October Read: Caesura
Daniel Anastasio
For musicians in 2020, there is a terrifying stillness. Freelance work has evaporated, teaching positions are in jeopardy, more orchestras are on the verge of folding, and performing for a live audience, even where legal, is now a logistical quagmire. And bigger questions loom: what relevance will classical music have in our society once we’re on the other side? Will concert halls still exist? Will technology-driven experiences kill off live, acoustic events? Is this pandemic one big nail in the coffin for a field that has been struggling for decades to grow its audience?
For years the classical field has struggled to sustain relevancy. There are many contributing issues, but for me the most apparent is one of identity. Being a classical musician is both archeological and performative: we interpret and realize notated scores written hundreds of years ago, conjure up that ink into sound, and attempt to imbue the stylistic context with our own unabashed individuality. At our best, we give presence to the past by illustrating to an audience that at its core, the expression of a Bach or Schubert is profoundly relevant to our human condition, and will likely remain relevant so long as we’re human. Love, humility, fear, acceptance, loss, and infinitely more permeate the repertoire, just as any great art is meant to evoke, reflect, and inspire these emotions in us.
The issue is not with the inspiring repertoire (severe lack of programming diversity aside), but with our unwillingness to present and frame the repertoire in a way that meaningfully connects to a contemporary audience. Baby boomers are the last generation to have been broadly exposed to classical music at an early age and through mass media, with commercials, cartoons and films hiring orchestras to perform classical works and commission new ones, and figures like Leonard Bernstein making esoteric concepts digestible and relevant. That we should experience diminishing returns on an interest in a centuries-old art form, which continues to disappear from mainstream view, only makes sense unless we provide a good reason, and context, for listening. Because it’s great art doesn’t cut it as a meaningful connector for someone today who has never been exposed to classical music, nor should it— framing, context, cross-artistic pairings and directed listening provide the tools needed to hear the music in an emotionally rich and relevant way. It’s OK if a work by Brahms or Mahler doesn’t ‘speak for itself’ for everyone living in the 21st century. Written in an entirely different era and culture, how could we expect it to? For the average American today, going to a classical concert today probably feels like you’re watching a 3D movie without the 3D glasses, and if you ask for the glasses, you’re scolded for not being able to appreciate the movie without them.
COVID-19 has exacerbated the growing crisis of classical music’s relevancy by forcing the matter. Will we adapt or die? Will we find ways to meaningfully grow our audiences through technology, innovation, unusual venues, programming, education, or extra-musical aids, or wait with fingers crossed for concert halls to open back up, for elderly audiences to risk their lives to attend performances and return to a decaying model?
One of the many silver linings in this summer’s forced caesura has been to discover the ways we can connect with audiences outside of a traditional, concert-hall setting. Many series and festivals have converted to online, streamed concerts that are enjoyed from the comfort of your home. While aspects of a live, acoustic concert are missed, there are perks to these experiences: artists have complete control over the product, there are no bad seats, and pre-concert Zoom interviews and live chats can provide a surprising level of connectivity. For the performers, these events are important motivators that renew our sense of purpose during this drought of concerts. The Yellow Barn Music Festival in Vermont has been on the road with their Music Haul truck, a transportable stage that literally brings the music to our communities, in a safe way. Many of my friends and colleagues have given concerts from their porch to socially distanced neighbors. Drive-in movie theaters and other outdoor venues, now more open about the types of events they host, provide more alternatives.
The field is in a state of profound opportunity. I suspect that many of these alternative forms of experiencing a concert will stick, even past the pandemic, and I’m excited for what the shake-up of format, packaging, environment, interaction, and delivery will add to the profession. COVID-19 has been a wave of destruction to a centuries-old model for experiencing classical music. What we choose to grow from the ashes is up to us.
Daniel Anastasio the Director of Keyboard Studies at San Antonio College, Artistic Director of the local chamber ensemble Agarita, and Co-founder of the new music group Unheard-of//Ensemble based in New York City. Daniel has been a member of the Board of Directors of the San Antonio Chamber Music Society since 2019.