I am not sure if my title is correct. Do we still call it “the zone” these days? Or is it that we are “hot”? Or that we “groove”? I am sometimes lost in the hip English lingo. Forgive me, I’m French.
What I am talking about is that particular state when everything falls into place and you get the stars aligned. Not only are you having a great moment, but your environment feels it and cheers you.
The zone is rare. As musicians, we work so hard to create magic and it so rarely happens, it’s almost unfair. We usually feel tense, uninspired, anxious. We are afraid it’s going to go south and we will end up making fools of ourselves. That fright is what drives us to pile up the hours on the preparation. We don’t want to leave anything to chance. And yet, sometimes, like the finger of some god touching your forehead, you feel yourself oozing light and spraying great vibrations.
Vibrations, is that a term from the 70’s? Did I mess up? Actually, no, I didn’t. In order to have a sound, any sound, the air needs to vibrate. But people do too, we all have a frequency. And, as I was saying, as musician, sometimes, we have the vibrations so strongly tuned to the ether that we feel omnipotent. Every time I play I am looking for that vibration. I try to feel the audience, where they are, how they view the moment and I guide them to my way of feeling, of thinking. I am looking to be in the zone. Actually, let me close the door brutally on that one, no, I am not trying to be in the zone. Because the zone is that elusive, that shy, if you try to conjure it, it won’t happen. You have to relax and trust everything: the place you are in, the people around you whether they are fellow musicians or the audience, and, of course, yourself. You have to trust yourself. And then, always like a familiar surprise, it comes. You are there and your performance makes sense, your motion becomes fluid, your ideas obvious, your music as natural as a clear stream.
I’ve been visiting that holy of all places sometimes, that zone that so many covet. I don’t mind telling you I understand why artist want to make it their natural habitat. A rare few live in it for more than a few seconds, a few minutes. Bach and Mozart rented the place for years, so did Beethoven or Bob Marley. They were touched by the grace of Music, everything they produced was fascinating, enchanted. They all got off the horse eventually. Maybe not Bach, though, but he’s an exception.
