After how much it’s been talked about, it’s hard to believe that 2021 is actually here.
This past year was filled with some of the lowest lows imaginable, for many of us both personally and globally. Irreplaceable (and large-scale) losses, a planet quite literally on fire, a long overdue (and too-little-too-late, so far) reckoning with deeply rooted racism in all parts of our lives… 2020 was unfathomably painful. 2021 does bring some hope — a vaccine developed in under a year (yay, science!), a promise for the US to rejoin the Paris Climate Agreement (a start!), a larger proportion of the society learning and working to unlearn what systemic racism is and how it permeates every facet of our lives, and seeking out ways to support, amplify, and become activists… there is a lot that I’m excited to see unfold in 2021.
When I came to write this blog, I noticed an incomplete draft blog from January 1, 2020. This time last year, life looked so very different. A lot of it feels so insignificant now — and I’m grateful for the perspective I’ve gained in 2020. It truly has been a blessing to reconnect with the simpler things in life — precious time sitting around the table playing games and chatting with my family, long walks in nature with no pressure (other than from myself) to rush back to anything in particular, time to practice freely and explore my own musical voice with no outside deadlines looming… gratitude for simply having another day with loved ones and waking up in good health.
On January 2, 2020, I raced back to NYC (from my family’s home in Canada) for a rehearsal that evening, knowing that I was going to have 1 day off between that day and the next time i was hoping to visit my family & home on June 18 (life of a musician: weekends are sometimes our busiest days of the week!). I was SO excited! There were so many concerts & events that I was looking forward to in 2020 — most of which obviously never came to fruition. But, in a year that was overwhelmingly calamitous — in many ways, especially for the performing arts community; some parts of which may never recover — one thing that kept me going was the musical community online. On January 1st (2021), I was inspired by others on Instagram to reflect upon some of the *highs* from this year (mostly cello-centric), and found it cathartic to reflect on some of the most meaningful, inspiring, and uplifting moments for me. So, I thought I’d share again here! I am so grateful that the internet provided a means of connection, both personally and professionally, in an otherwise largely isolating year (thanks to many of you for joining me through various livestreams, my recurring series Live from Lowville with Love, and of course, my frequent posts on Instagram — and inspiring me through your own shows and sharings!).
In January, I got to perform several times with Ensemble Connect — including Britten’s 2nd String Quartet, which is one of my favourite quartets, and a special, intimate “Music Room” at Carnegie Hall’s Weill Institute where we invited the audience with us on a through-concert involving music and dance — with us at the dancers (you can check out the closing piece here). I also continued my trial with the Bang on a Can All-Stars, and a very exhilarating highlight of the month for me was premiering Julia Wolfe’s Flower Power with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. What a dream! On January 31st, I was very fortunate to close out the month with the beautiful Musical Connections community at Sing Sing Correctional Facility, where we had our first ever Family Concert. Powerful, emotional, exceptionally moving… it was a night I’ll never forget and was so grateful to be a (very tiny) part of.
In February, we had our last Ensemble Connect residency at Skidmore College (you can hear one piece from our performance here), and, we didn’t know it then, but our last performance at Carnegie Hall. I also raced back and forth to Philly weekly, as usual, to teach my dear students and perform trios for Symphony in C Virtuosi. *And*, I got to perform my first Peoples Commissioning Fund show at Merkin Hall with the All-Stars, and embark on a thrilling Euro-tour! One of the big highlights for me was visiting London, England for the first time, where we performed with the BBC Concert Orchestra & performed Steve Martland’s intoxicating Horses of Instruction.
Then of course, March came and everything changed. Though ,not before I spent the first week in Europe finishing off our tour with the All-Stars! Our last concert in Northern Ireland happened to be my last indoor concert for an audience for… goodness-knows-how-long. I try not to think about that (the goodness-knows part) too much or I get quite depressed. I raced back ASAP after the concert to rehearse with Ensemble Connect for our last concert together in-person (which of course we didn’t know at the time — our fellowship didn’t end until June!). It was on March 10, which was the middle of the week where coronavirus began to hit NYC hard, so Juilliard decided (wisely) to close our concert to the public and livestream it instead. it was a very strange experience to perform for a completely empty hall — but, a taste of what was to come. Shortly thereafter, my jam-packed schedule for the rest of March, April, and beyond evaporated into thin air, and I decided to go to my home in Canada to be with my family (and nature).
The rest of March and April were spent getting used to our new virtual reality — something I’m sure we can all relate to! I joined a committee to produce Philadelphia Virtual Music Phestival in late March, which has now given over 100 performances and raised over $100,000 through the Philly AFM — for a Covid-relief fund for Philadelphia-area musicians in need. It was there that I gave my first public livestream recital on the first April of Saturday, which was so terrifying and awkward for me that i decided to start my own Facebook Livestream series, Live from Lowville with Love, so I could try to practice it and get better at it. Live from Lowville with Love turned into something I looked forward to weekly — a way to connect with people through music; something many of us have been so dearly missing. I’m deeply indebted and immensely grateful to everyone who’s become a part of it <3
Through all the ups and downs of these months, I was grateful that there was still a way to teach my students — both privately, and in Zoom classrooms with my Ensemble Connect partner school, PS 532 New Bridges. It also gave me some more time to work on my upcoming album with Scott Ordway and Alexander Bruscenev, to continue professional development and virtual engagement with Ensemble Connect, to adjudicate my first-ever online competitions, and of course, to reach out to friends and find ways to help each other through unprecedented and undoubtedly difficult times. (My family also got a new puppy, which has brought us incredible joy throughout the year!)
Summer came and I “graduated” from Ensemble Connect in June — and got to officially join the Bang on a Can All-Stars! Truly, an honour, and a dream come true. I began performing in the remarkable online marathons they’ve been regularly putting together — which allowed me to work closely with 3 incredible composers (so far!): Helena Tulve, Annika Socolofsky, and Daniel Bernard Roumain. In July, I also got to head back to the States to give my first in-person show since March 8 with my colleagues in the All-Stars!!! I cannot describe how magical it felt to step onto a “stage” again and perform for (an outdoor & socially-distanced) LIVE audience. There’s truly nothing that can replace the feeling of being in the same room with others; of performing for an audience full of people whose generous spirit and energy can only be felt in close proximity, but are such a huge part of music-making and sharing.
My reflections wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t also share that I can’t think back on the summer (May/June in particular) without thinking of George Floyd, and the protests & reckoning that his death sparked, both publicly and personally. It shouldn’t have taken his death to get there, period. But, I learned & realized so much more about racism, and how it thrives in classical music (and beyond) beginning then (the work continues, and always will) — and I was also really grateful to begin to explore and share fantastic music by Black (and all BIPOC) composers.
A lot of summer was also spent planning for my October album release, [in]verse, with Fall for Dance North Toronto. Their Artistic Director, Ilter Ibrahimof, called me while I was on a hike in April inviting me to be a part of their virtual season and curate + perform on an album of poetry and music, inspired by the 1996 Academy Award winning Il Postino. I can’t begin to describe how creatively invigorating and joyful dreaming up this album was for me. From selecting a long list of poems that I love, to connecting with each of the dance-makers and hearing them read the poems they’d landed on while trying to imagine what music might most compellingly complement their selection… it was a dream I never knew i had.
And, of course, in late July I announced on social media that I wanted to collaborate with composers in creating miniatures for solo cello via #SeptemberSoloCello. I honestly didn’t think it would garner much attention, and was overwhelmed and thrilled when my desire to create with other musicians in isolation turned into working with 24 fabulous composers from all over the world! It was truly an honour to work with every single one of them, and I’m so grateful to each of them for making isolation far less lonely — and far more meaningful. Collaborating, creating, and sharing their pieces took up a great deal of my time from August through November, but most of the pieces are now available on Instagram, and we are working on recording them all into an album to release publicly later in 2021!
I was grateful to close out the year with one final trip back to the States for a couple of recording projects — both for Tippet Rise and some personal projects — and am looking forward to sharing those soon as well. While it feels like my field of work has in some ways evaporated into thin air, and it’s very scary looking forward and not having a chance to make a living doing what I love for the time being, and not having any idea when regular work will start up again… I’m also extremely inspired to see how some organizations and individuals have managed to shift and pivot, and am hopeful that we will continue to do so until this pandemic is over and it’s safe to resume the work we love so deeply.
At the end of the day, a year is just a number. While we’re seemingly and understandably eager to close the door on 2020, there’s a lot we should hold onto (at the very least, so that history does not repeat itself). And while there’s hope for 2021, a new year doesn’t bring change unless we do. Since initially writing this post, that has become more evident than ever — with acts of domestic terrorism, racism, and of course, thousands new coronavirus casualties in just this first week of the year. I am hopeful that if 2020 taught us anything, it’s that we cannot be complacent or sweep things under the rug, but that we have to speak, and act, if we ever want to see change. In the recent words of Wynton Marsalis, “Change requires imagination, courage, and dogged dedication.”
A few things from a surprisingly long list of things I’ll be holding onto from 2020: inspiration from these women (and generally actively seeking out & amplifying Black & BIPOC voices* — see bottom of post for a few artists & activists I’ve found most inspiring recently), appreciating the simple things in life, not taking health & family for granted, slowing down on occasion, and a couple of quotes:
“I am not optimistic, nor pessimistic. I am determined.” -Stacey Abrams
“Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens.” -Kahlil Gibran
“I don’t want your love and light if it doesn’t come with solidarity and action.” -Rachel Cargle
May 2021 bring a significant push in all of us working to create a more just, more loving, more peaceful world. Stay safe, healthy, and vocal, my friends!
*Cover Art for this blog post by @alex.albadree. I have also recently felt very inspired by & grateful for @morganharpernichols, @ohhappydani, @mariebeech, @ckyourprivilege, @mspackyetti, and @thecfsy.