Time for that blog
by Stephen Deazley, Artistic Director ~ July 2020
“When are we getting your blog?”
“Why haven’t you written a blog?”
“Are you writing that blog?”
“Where’s the blog?”
These are often used, always politely delivered requests in our internal communications at Love Music, usually followed up with a “sorry” reply from me. I’ve run out of excuses. I wonder why.
It might be to do with time – we know a lot about this now, about how it stretches and contorts, slows down and challenges our ability to live with ourselves without distraction, about how, before, there seemed to be little enough of it to do what was needing to be done.
It might be to do with confidence – about writing words, as music is the language that comes most naturally to me, or about anyone being remotely interested in anything I write. The rehearsal room is where I rarely mistrust what is about to come out of my mouth, all other wordy conversations are susceptible to overthinking, to over-scrutiny. But community singing and providing space, opportunity, momentum and encouragement to inspire others to sing together is, for me, a place of ease.
There is a focus and flow to music-making that deals, in a slippery way, with the tensions of time, where you can hit a zone and feel entirely like you are living in the present, in the here and now. In part, that’s why our community choirs are such valuable and valued resources, they are human resources; ‘time for me’, ‘time to relax’, ‘time to forget’, ‘time to connect’, ‘time to feel’ all sorts of emotions – singing can easily pop you open when you’re least expecting it. They offer little hooks for us to hold on to, timely counterpoints to messy weeks of getting on with life stuff, the thing that we love to do rather than the things we are simply doing for family, for work, for others.
So, there’s lots of time now to write that blog, right? No, not really, but there is something to write about.
What happened first? We cancelled our spring concert at the Usher Hall a couple of weeks before lockdown. It was to be a typically grand offering scaled up: 450 singers featuring four invited community choirs in a joyous celebration of inclusive singing. And then, after absorbing the shock and the unfolding realities of living in collective isolation, we went through a recalibration, personal and professional, and found a question – what should we do that would be useful, that would actually be of any use to anyone at that particular moment?
Almost instantly, there was a social media explosion of digital performances, some super shiny, some maybe even a bit showy, a lot of them not, but many laced with a lingering sense of loss. Despite good intentions and committed efforts to stay connected, to keep going regardless, to keep spirits high; they seemed sad.
We are a small team at Love Music with no one working full time and all in portfolio careers (an interesting word – career – for the type of work we do). Our charity is mostly self-funded and we’re very proud of the reach, impact and contribution to Scotland’s cultural life we manage to achieve within limited resources. As artistic director I know I can be accused of ambition, of working at a particular scale: isn’t 500 better than 200? Of course it is! Cue regular checking of the safety limits of the Usher Hall to see how many more people we can squeeze onto the stage… a brass ensemble, the Highland pipes, 25 young guitarists, 60 young percussionists… and the Usher Hall organ, yes of course we need that too. Guilty as charged. But this ambition, necessary or not (need – an interesting word, these days undergoing its own recalibration), never got in the way of the culture of care and consideration that underpins our work.
Our published ethos is that we are curious, creative, adventurous, raising aspirations and changing lives. If we do have a USP it was forged, formed and is held together by asking good questions: how can we make the experience better for those taking part; how can we make it more inclusive; what supporting systems do people need? The quality of the questions dictates the quality of the offer. What is important? can easily be improved to Who is important and what do they need?
Careful and considered questions helped us shape our first digital term of Community Choir, set against the seemingly impossible challenge of creating a shared singing experience, in which no-one can actually hear each other or sing together in real time!
Who? Our Community Choir has grown over the last 8 years to include 330 singers from across Edinburgh. Many had already signed up for another term of singing at the Usher Hall, with a mystery programme of songs already arranged – a ghost programme that will return one day featuring a typically eclectic mix of music and song choices, another surprise group of guest musicians and collaboration with our extended family of 100 children from Junior Choir. See what I mean? Guilty as charged.
Why? Because we are a community that cares about each other and so it seemed obvious: you make an effort for those around you, to offer support when it’s needed. And it did seem like it was needed, something familiar in a new world of separation. The familiarity of our online choir sessions proved useful anchors in uncertain times, a space to meet and recognise friendly faces, and not (as I had feared) just to remind us of what is missing with a lingering sense of loss, but also a gentle reminder “to hope”, to sing in the here and now, and to look forward.
A few comments from members of our Community Choir:
“It’s good to have these regular things to look forward to as each day can seem like the next.”
“The connection with the choir is so important during this tough period during the past 10 weeks. You helped to lift my spirits.”
“I have missed choir greatly and just connecting with choir on Monday night and seeing so many familiar faces was such a boost. When I finished the session, I commented to my husband that it had given me quite a buzz and a sense of normality in this surreal world.”
“I always feel better and happier after the rehearsal.”
Re: our recording of How Can I Keep From Singing: “This is my amazing choir, wayyyy out of our comfort zones, & missing each other fiercely – yet singing together nonetheless. This song means a lot to many of us, and to us as a choir. It reminds me to hope, ESPECIALLY now.”
What? So that’ll be in the next blog. Time comes and goes.
