Performing Music

Spending my life as a performing musician has been and continues to be full of great joy mingled with extreme anxiety. In my teens and onward through my twenties, I experienced excessive performance anxiety nearly all the time on stage. The symptoms ranged from shaking to breathing problems to a near catatonic state of neurological misfiring. Often unable to speak, feeling like an impending stroke, and wondering if the shimmering waves of death were upon me, I played my horn with dread, anticipating the conclusion so I could live in the normal world again until the next time.

Part of the problem of my performance anxiety, in addition to my excessive adrenalin and desire for perfection, is my need to be better than last time. Each performance should provide a basket full of musical lessons that can be applied for the next performance. In this manner, a lifetime of performances ought to result in perfection at some point. Yet for me, the elusive dream of flawless performance seemed to slowly but surely be unattainable. And in truth it is. I can never be good enough in that there is always room for improvement. Intonation, articulation, phrasing, technique, communication, dynamics, precision, expression, accuracy. All of these and more must get better at each performance.

This kind of commitment causes an inevitable neurosis of confusion for a performer. The need to be bold like a lion yet sensitive like a lamb adds to the myriad demands, not to mention the expectations of others. For me it has both added to and subtracted from the joy of music. My dissatisfaction with myself as a musician has torn me into emotional shreds while teaching me to accept the ultimate truth of imperfection being okay. So I dedicate myself to excellence, offer my best, work diligently for it, present it, and then let it go.

The result is a deepening awareness of my own failings but also a greater sense of the joy of making music. I cannot be perfect but I can love what I do. Ultimately it is about communicating and manifesting to the world what is inside. And as my friend Mike Ewald used to say, "Keep your mind, your body, your music, and your spiritual life strong by working on them constantly."

Performance anxiety gone replaced by joy--as it should be! That said, I need to practice more to be ready for the next gig.