Lonely; solitary; melancholy.
It might surprise some people to learn that I listen to other music while composing music. Similarly, I sometimes keep music playing in the background while I practice and learn music by other composers.
This is not a strict routine. As often as not I will surround myself in silence as I pursue these solitary pursuits.
It should go without saying that practicing music written by others can be a tedious endeavor. The mechanics of devising a strategy to deal with technical challenges and compositional vagaries are largely unconscious. One might go insane while attempting to fully contemplate the muscle maneuvers and choreography of playing even a simple piano piece. Conversely I find that I, having played piano since childhood, sometimes feel I am looking a mental abyss — a subconscious hive — when I watch a pianist’s hands unravel a complex piece of music.
There is that darkness about music, a solitude. Where, really, do the skills and energy come from?
