Going Solo

I'm not like a lot of other musician friends of mine. I'm not afraid to play solo in public.

Maybe that's because I've also been in theatre for about 31 years. Or more, if you count playing Goldilocks in kindergarten. I wore a blond "wig" made of crepe paper.

Maybe its because my Uncle Joey is a jazz musician, and I grew up thinking improvising was vastly superior to reading music.

I can improvise with ease. I'm a lousy sight-reader.

I do love to be part of a group, adding harmonies, making a good sound together.

But sometimes, it's just easier to go solo.

I say this with some melancholy. Yet again, in yet another group I'm a part of, there has been unrest and bad feelings that have come to a head, and the group is no more. In an effort to make peace, I said I'd do the next gig solo, to take pressure off the group having to perform until problems got resolved. That just seem to bring the problems to a head until the container holding the trio together burst.

I can just cancel the gig. Or I can do a substitute performance, solo.

This kind of angst reminds me of the years and years of offstage drama in the Albuquerque theatre scene's very "small world." That's one of the reasons I stopped doing so much theatre - I crave the drama that's onstage, but I'm so weary of the drama off the stage. Then I found that the music world in our small-big town has its share of angst-ridden moments, too.

But I guess that's just the nature of the human beast, right? We all have our own opinions, feelings, reactions, and actions - and we'll never be able to please everyone all the time.

I need to leave work and go home. By the time I get home, my husband - who's nursing a migraine - will be asleep. I'll go home, sit behind my harp, and play her for a while - solo.