Project tempo and the existential void

It’s been a while since I’ve posted here or sent an email update. It turns out that a concert every weekend, seven weeks in a row, in the midst of a full-time teaching semester, is a little too much. (As I’ve said before, it’s not just playing the concert, it’s learning the new Scarlatti sonata and the collaborative music each time, composing the elaborate post-concert web write-up, plus ongoing work of booking, promotion, and grant-seeking.)  That 7-concert run concluded last Sunday, and I’ve been catching up with school, and just without the oomph even to write a short paragraph like this explaining that I don’t have energy to post. 

After a sparse holiday season schedule (only one concert in December) we’re going to aim for two weekends a month in the spring semester, maybe trying to make every other one a two-fer mini-tour when playing farther from home. My life partner (and principal project advisor, videographer, roadie, and driver) thinks even this may be too much, for our relationship if not for the project. While I think it might be fine in a semester with two classes instead of three, or with a Tuesday-Thursday teaching schedule. We’ll see.

To stay on track for my stated 5-year timeline, I need an average tempo of one concert a week. My wife asks, “Why five years? Who cares?” It’s a fair question. Maybe we will adjust it, but I do have some reasons. 

I love this project, but don’t want it to define my musical life indefinitely. And the project is my response to the climate emergency—taking my time and moseying along doesn’t feel very emergent. I feel it’s more newsworthy if more compact: “Guy says he’ll eventually play everywhere in Vermont, probably” doesn’t make as compelling a story (though I concede I may be exaggerating the significance of this particular point). 

Finally, there is this existentialist, life purpose angle. I’m happier when hyper-engaged with something I feel I have to do, even while I realize it’s only me saying I have to do it. It’s built on air, but as long as I’m fully immersed, it feels real and compelling. I do better overcommitted than at loose ends.