The common sense dictates that in order to make a living in music, you need to spend some time on an instrument. Quite some time. A considerable amount of time. All you time. Yes, but that’s a maybe. It depends.
We all know the artists that has killed themselves over practice, the people who never stop obsessing on the details, on the tippy top of what they can do, trying to leave nothing to chance, get the audience enthralled in their art. Pick up almost any classical music album and the players listed are all in that category. They are so taken by what is done, the how, the when, the how strong, how weak, how subtle, that it becomes a disease. Sometimes not a healthy disease either. Robert Schumann, for example, the great 19th century composer, ruined his fourth fingers by attaching a sling to it. His ring finger became limped, destroying any dreams he might have had to become a concert pianist. Instead, he dedicated his energy and time to composing.
His wife, Clara, was one of the pioneer of female concerto pianist, her talent and skills recognized the world over. She became Robert’s interpret. Clara was a child prodigy, you see, she had developed her playing under the tutelage of her father, a piano teacher of renown. As it was, since we are talking about Clara, it needs to be said that growing up, she was homeschooled, had no friends and was burdened by a full schedule imposed by the needs of the instrument she had to master. She was not exactly a lonely girl since she had a family to surround her with her 2 brothers, for example, but I can’t say I would wish her fate to any child. The case of Clara illustrate my point, though: if you want to become a famous pianist in the classical music world, you give it all, that’s what it takes.
But is it what it takes, really? Does one have to spend every waking moment on the instrument to have a chance at making a living in music. That’s the part of the “It depends” title of this blog and I’ll develop it in the second part.
This is Clara Schumann, by the way.
