Public Space and Private Space

I am finally able to play violin again for an hour or so at a time. Viola still has its physical stresses for me, so I'm trying to only play a little bit of viola every day. When I was not able to practice, I spent a good deal of time scrolling through public spaces on the internet. I even joined Twitter, a format that doesn't do much for me as a participant (i.e. tweeter). And though I got a lot of help with recovery from my playing injury from the helpful and kind people in the viola Facebook group, much of Facebook seems to me like voices in the wilderness calling out for meaningful interaction, or making posts to "document" meaningful interactions they have had with friends.

I have, in the past, anticipated that I would have a sense of connection (or relief from disconnection) when something has been "released," like a recording or a publication, but the rare response (a comment rather than a "like") on Facebook seems so very fleeting.

When I play music in real time with friends, the satisfaction I get feels anything but fleeting. In the case of my weekly meetings with my pianist friend John David, it lasts for the whole week. In the case of playing Haydn quartets with my friends, where the interval between meetings is two weeks or more, that connection with Haydn sometimes lasts until the next meeting. And the satisfaction I get from completing a writing project is, in my private space, enough to make me feel satisfied by the effort I have put into it. But once that project is finished, and the parts are made and submitted either to the IMSLP or to a publisher, it feels kind of "gone."

I don't like to amplify my work the way many musicians (composers and performing musicians) amplify their work daily in their various social media worlds. One post about it is enough for me. And if what I have written is of any value to anybody, I would feel better if that value comes from a personal connection or from playing something with others or for others.

I try my best to ignore the quantification of engagement, and I try my best not to care about whether it does no or does not give validity to the work I do, but once in a while, during periods of physical isolation from a larger musical community (not because of Covid but because of basic geography) I start to wonder about my place in any musical world larger than my rather small physical circle of people.

I know that I am not alone in not knowing. Perhaps the whole musical experience concerns the connections that happen between one private space and another, scattered across time.