To Collaborate Like Water

This is an English translation of an article published in Nikkan San on Nov. 8, 2020, as a part of my column, “The Way of the Pianist.”

There are always things that will remain outside of our control. Natural disasters. Our mortality. The past. The future that will always remain uncertain.

Likewise, there are always things that remain outside of a pianist’s control in her performances. Once, in the middle of performing at a beautiful mansion, the pedal fell off under my foot. It was completely rusted through. I have had to play in halls so reverberate, I could not hear my own notes. Other halls have been so dry – playing in those dead halls feels like screaming inside a black hole, the sound you produce getting absorbed as soon as it leaves you. Under these conditions, the only thing you get to control is how you react. You can be angry, let your frustration be known. You can laugh, throwing your hands up in the air, making a comedy out of what can be a tragedy. You can also remain neutral, choosing to immerse yourself in the music.

Sometimes, it helps me to think the hall, its acoustics and the piano as my “collaborators,” my fellow musicians, personifying them. Often you don’t know who your musical partners will be until you get to the hall on the day of the concert. But you must resonate and empathize with each other in order to make the best music you can. Maybe they have beautiful musicality but painfully shy. Maybe they are obnoxiously loud, but hide a deep sadness. They may have some attitude issues. They may be impossibly demanding. Whatever the case, your personal priority is to make the best music that you can under the given condition with your partners. And the best strategy is to remain cool, unconditionally embracing and flexible.

You can choose to resist the given conditions and partners. You can assert yourself and try to lead, to insist on the beat of your drum. But it is also your choice to really hear what your partners/conditions have to offer as a unique opportunity, to reflect on, to accept, to shine your light on, and to embrace and to love.

It is your choice to become water, and not a rock, in relation to your fate, your context, your time, and your relationships. Sometimes, your choice to compromise is to preserve yourself and those you love. Life promises to be full of challenges, but the challenges seem especially formidable these days. I hoped that sharing some of the lessons I have learned on my musical path might give you some solace, today.