A Call to Arms

I've been away from this for almost a year now, I'm realizing. While I'm making no promises as to the longevity or frequency of posts, there have been a few events lately that have inspired me to write.

A few weeks ago, Les Mis played Calgary, Alberta. For those in the States who haven't been keeping up with Canadian news, Calgary experienced substantial flooding around that time. In fact, on the day of our arrival, the majority of downtown Calgary was still underwater, with no power and hundreds of thousands of people evacuated from their homes. A lot was up in the air for us, not to mention for the city. After settling in our new (less desirable...) hotel, far from downtown (and far from any decent restaurant), we grumbled and speculated on the status of our fast approaching opening night. The theater was far from the flooding, however with such turmoil in the city, it seemed highly unlikely that we wouldn't open on time, and like school children awaiting a snowstorm, we wished for a cancelled show.

The news of our timely opening came the next morning and elicited further grumbles from our company, as was to be expected. As we begrudgingly set up for the first show, we complained openly about our anticipated low attendance. Showtime rolled around and a surprisingly large number of people showed up, in fact we were almost sold out. Not tragic floods, nor water damage, nor displacement would keep Calgarians from seeing this show. Right before downbeat, the President of the theater came to the stage with a small speech prepared. (Side note: as orchestra members, we typically scoff at curtain speeches, because they usually entail some plea for money or ticket sales and can be a real drag before the opening chords of our show) The President seemed timid, slightly flustered as the speech had been written earlier that evening, but she addressed the audience warmly and explained the theatre's decision to open Les Mis that night, rather than postpone the show to the following evening. She acknowledged the tragic events of the past few days, acknowledged that the rebuilding work had only just begun, but she stressed the great need for community, family, and strength, all things that the story of Les Mis embodied so strongly, as she pointed out. She felt that the ailing community needed, now if not more than ever, the message of hope that Les Mis brings, thus they had decided to present the show that evening.

This may seem inconsequential, but her small speech struck me as an artist. I had spent the previous afternoon complaining about the inconvenience of the day's events, and the disappointment of not having the night off. In fact, I wasn't looking forward to playing the show at all, until hearing her speech. Her words were a precise reminder of the reason we artists do what we do. Our work, the message of this show, is so powerful and touches so many every night, but the monotony of playing the same show each day gets in the way. Being there in Calgary, presenting this material at such a difficult time in the city's history is what we live for as artists. We strive to move people with our work. We hope to inspire, to comfort, to bring strength in time of trial. It might be the 900th time I've played the viola part, the same harmonies, the same countermelodies, but to the audience, this experience is brand new and fresh. And to that Calgary community, our show was a beacon of hope, a reminder that community, family, and strength in times of adversity are core to the human existence.

So let this be a call to arms, or a call to arts, as it were. As artists, we can get caught too firmly in our own work, in the details, in the notes, the rhythms, the intonation, the personal dramas amongst our colleagues. In getting caught, we lose sight of the immense power of our work. Let your art be not for you, but for the betterment of those who attend it. Be it floods or small personal trials, every audience brings with it the same necessity. It is our duty as artists to affect, so let us put down our selfish affairs, pick up our arts, and make a difference in the world today.