If anyone has been reading this (or the facebook posts for ‘Bach in the Dark’) they will know that at the end of January I’m recording a disc.
This is a big deal for me, as every recording project I have ever done has been hugely unpleasant. There is always something that goes horribly wrong – someone can’t play something, there’s too much noise outside, it’s freezing cold, egos get in the way…. this list goes on and on.
But after two years of a dear friend (and a musician I admire so very much) asking me to record with him, I have said I’d try it one more time. If I was going to record with anyone, it would be him. I have decided not to listen to raw takes – I am bringing down a very trusted pair of ears (that do not belong to me) to listen to the takes, as I know that at the first whiff of an out-of-tune anything, I will stop being creative and imaginative, and become some kind of uninteresting cello-playing robot. And that wouldn’t be true to everything I hold dear as a performer.
So, for better or worse (hopefully better), I am going to Melbourne to be a creative cellist with lots of patience as we have to do things a number of times to get everything right. (I am not so patient. That will be hard. Not as hard as the last Bartok piece we’re doing, though.)
We rehearsed a lot last weekend. We gave a little concert to some friends who gave up their Sunday afternoon to come a tell us what they thought. We’ve talked endlessly about how things are going to go. A recording schedule has been drafted. I have so many callouses I could stick pins in most of my fingers and not feel a thing.
So it’s nearly upon me. I am reminded of my favourite quote (at the moment) about creativity, by Anna Funder. “This is the trick to creative work : it requires a slip-state of being, not unlike love. A state in which you are both most yourself, and most alive and yet least as sure of your own boundaries, and therefore open to everything and everyone outside of you.”