Just some thoughts…

There’s been a lot of talk about bubbles, lately.  

On social media, I’ve seen discussions about the ‘classical music bubble’ and how it seems ready to burst. I’ve read and listened to many convincing arguments citing the ‘conservative’ nature of a music conservatoire education, as well as the issue of programming concerts to please the palates of a select demographic while neglecting current/new compositional voices and minority/marginalised voices. I’ve also seen my fellow musicians stand up for Black Lives Matter, joining in physical protest, posting (or not posting) music and articles and books and videos and thoughts and declamations. There is so much swirling around, heightened by the inescapable reality that we are still locked down, even as nonessential shops open up, parks overcrowd, and ‘support bubbles’ amass in a torrent of desire, necessity, and confusion. 

I have been trying to stay afloat and absorb as much as I can, educating and re-educating myself, sorting out my implicit biases and identifying entrenched narratives while having conversations with others. I do this to feel like I’m supporting the black community and contributing towards the fight against systemic racism. I also do this to prepare for the changes taking place in the classical music world that seem totally necessary, if a little forceful. In reality though, I have no idea what I’m doing. There is tension inside my head and body; I have trouble eating and sleeping. At the same time, I am privileged in so many ways. 

We all have our individual ways of processing and reacting to these current events — mine has been to retreat further inward and reflect. However, this does not mean that I don’t have an impulsive desire to fight. I also want to feel a sense of purpose, to pick a battle, take a side, and act. But as usual, my reflections warn me of the incompatibility between my impulses and my rational mind. I know that I wouldn’t be able to sustain my actions for very long. I would quickly recognise my lack of awareness of the wider perspective, as well as a reflexive need to know more and experience more. I would become anxious and insecure, faced with an inadequate understanding of myself and what I truly believe in. That’s right, I’m still trying to figure out who I am. 

And so I reflect on myself. How did I become a classical musician and why do I continue to be one? Why have I only ever learned and performed music of the Western canon? Why have I barely ever played the music of someone who is still alive today; someone who is a woman, or non-white, or a member of a minority group? I think about my own experiences as a Chinese-American woman living in the UK, leading a life of mixed and overlapping cultures and never feeling fully grounded in any place. I think about my career, a trajectory that has, seemingly out of nowhere, branched off into several smaller arms. They desperately try to reach towards the centre (back to where they came from), but to no avail because that’s not how things grow. I also think about my friends, family, and loved ones and how different (generationally, politically, culturally, professionally) yet connected we all are. 

There is difference around as well as within me. Recently, through conversations with an inspiring friend about multiplicities (his brilliant recognition, not mine), I have begun to consider my own. I seem to be made up of multiples that are in constant transformation: goals, passions, cultures, experiences, skills, and interests. The variability scares me, but then I remember that I am likely not the only one feeling this way. After all, we are living in a globalised world. The internet has given us access to everything we could ever imagine, a seemingly infinite amount of information, resources for discovery, and possibilities for connection. It makes sense that we have developed, now more than ever, multiplicities within us. The question is, how do we make use of this? Once recognised, what can we do to contribute positively to the world?