Secrets to Happiness

Picture: www.everything-inspiring.com

I know it from experience, so I know it for sure. And I'm grateful to God because I got to know these things before I turn 40.   

When The Lights Go Out

At the beginning of this year, I uploaded a picture of fireworks in my Facebook wall and wishing everybody is doing well and having a good year. Just before the end of November, a good friend of mine commented in that picture, "you are doing well!"

I had started this year with a clear set of goals: (1) one event each month, and (2) more local musicians. Measured by these alone, I have, indeed, done well. But since I worked with people a lot, I already saw that this year has presented quite a series of disappointments. 

My first disappointment: I'm losing crowds. I've probably said this somewhere before, but after 5 years of working in the classical music business, I am really sad to tell that in terms of public appreciation, I'm back to square one. There are many reasons why people don't come to concerts, or go to master classes, which for me are too lame to be listed here, but I have to face it, this is the place where I live and work. People buy Justin Bieber; they don't buy classical music CDs. They go out to fine dine, not to concert. They'd spend 5 dollars for a movie, a popcorn and a soda, but 5 dollars for a live show by top international pianist is considered expensive. They save months after months, live on instant noodles and 2 meals a day so they can get their Blackberrys, and then they have nothing left for their education (but of course, Blackberrys are more important because you can show it to people, whereas the content of your brain stays inside your head). Anyway, in short, people are not buying classical music here. And it's what I'm selling. To continue selling will mean that I'm a retard. A persistent one, yes, but still, a retard.      

My second disappointment: I've got very few help. Indonesians are not people who are passionate about what they do, and this is especially true to the classical musicians. A lot of fellow piano teachers are classrooms-only musicians. They don't listen to classical music recordings at home, they don't read books about music, and they hardly show up at concerts. So it would be futile to ask them to promote concerts to their pupils. And for me, if music teachers don't care, then it's difficult for music to thrive. Classical music is not in our genes, it's not something people hear in shopping malls, and it's definitely not in school's curriculum. It takes people who are really crazy about it to convince people to listen. If the man and woman of the profession don't even give a damn, what hope do I have? 

My third disappointment: the quality of local musicians I work with is deteriorating. And in my mission to develop classical music in this country, I think it's crucial, because I can't always depend on help from overseas. Now if the local musicians are rubbish, it becomes lethal. They only make it worse. People will actually believe that classical music is that boring and awful and when I finally bring some good and solid performance, people already form a prejudice, and I'm wiping the slate clean. All over again.  

I used to enjoy working with young amateurs in the city and watched them grow as artist in concert stage. I think it's a very rich experience, and an important one in the formation of a good musicians. I think they should be grateful for it, not take the opportunity for granted, and work to give their best. But since gigs are more interesting these days, with TV shows using more and more orchestrated music, I've dismally watched them say goodbye to idealism.

Too bad. I wish my work is not so much related to other people's feedback, but that's just the way it is. Given the circumstances, I think it would be wise to take a distance from all of this and think about my next steps. 

So, enough with trashing people now. Concert management is a found passion, a world I've chosen to enter with all my heart and soul. So I think I will always do it. But I also know that this profession is not something applicable in all parts of the world. At the moment, it's not very useful here, in my home country. I might find a place where I can realize my full potential, but I realize now that this will have to wait. Maybe I'll come back to it, in this very place, in a few years from now. Or maybe, God will finally let me go to where I want to be (knowing that I'm not really needed here). In the meantime, I think it's time for me to pick up pieces of myself I left behind when I decided to pursue my new career 5 years ago. There are so many things to do, even when the lights go out. We can still talk, and sing, and think. And for me, the best thing to do when darkness comes is to have peaceful moment, to pray, and to enjoy and be grateful for solitude.