Location, Location, Location

Recently I was scrolling through my photos looking for a particular shot to show a friend. Like many of you, I have a lot of pictures of all kinds of stuff, most of which could be (and should be) deleted. However, I have a lot of photos of many of the places I’ve performed at and I realized just how beautiful most of these places are.

I haven’t played in public in three years and there are parts of that work that I don’t miss. But the locations were special. How many people retire from their work and miss the actual workplace? I mean there are people we miss and certain parts of the job that we really enjoyed, but the physical space?

In the early years, when I was still strumming and singing, I found myself playing in some pretty peculiar places. Some were OK, but some were real dumps. And I had to deal with drunks regularly. A couple of places were affectionately referred to as “knife and gun” clubs. The joke went, “When you go in they check you for weapons. If you don’t have any then one will be issued to you.” It was only marginally a joke. Talk to anyone in a band and I’m sure they will have similar stories of their own.

In my 30s, after nearly a ten year hiatus, I began performing classical music instead of popular music and the nature of my gigs changed. I played at a few nice clubs, private parties, corporate events, etc. Instead of a bar, I found myself in hotel conference rooms, private homes, art galleries and other very nice venues. When I played concerts I performed in auditoriums, churches, libraries, and private homes.

About twenty years ago I began to specialize in destination weddings. I played both ceremonies and receptions throughout northern Michigan, but particularly on Mackinac Island. These venues were beautiful and elegant. Most, but not all, were outside.  I would usually arrive early to set up my equipment and then have a few moments to warm-up before the guests arrived. I almost always took time to appreciate how fortunate I was to be there. I was getting paid well to play beautiful music in a beautiful location for some very joyful people.

No job is perfect and it’s easy to get caught up in the things that make you grumpy. Usually when autumn arrived I was happy the season was over and that I didn’t have anymore weddings to play for awhile. But by the time spring arrived I was getting excited all over again.

So today, as I look out my window and see the sun shining and hear the birds singing I miss the promise of a new season of events. The excitement that I remember is now replaced with peace and calm. I don’t miss the work. I’ve played a lot of gigs and was thrilled to do so, but it’s time for the old man to get out of the way and make room for the next generation. But I miss the venues. The beauty of the architecture. The palpable reverence of each church I was invited to. But especially the outdoor spaces with their gardens, well groomed, manicured, fragrant, bursting with color, and alive with bees, butterflies, and other critters. Many of these places are not open to the general public, so I’ll never see them again except for the photos in my phone.

Not surprisingly, I follow a lot of musicians on social media. When they post pictures of the venue they are about to perform in (usually with the caption, “Today’s office”) I think “Gee, I’d really like to play a concert there”. The lure is not the concert but, rather, the lure is the room. The performance is an excuse for being swallowed by the space and to know that I’m one of the lucky few to have the privilege.

I don’t expect to ever perform in public again, but I practice every day as if I still have one more concert in me. A once and always showoff I guess.