Do we really need it anyway?

Moving house is not an easy thing to do at the best of times. To move in the middle of a pandemic is almost impossible. And yet, recently, I have done just that finally completing a move process which started nearly a year ago. With all the ‘i’s’ dotted and ‘t’s’ crossed moving day arrived and with it the removal company who began to load my worldly possessions onto their van. A throwaway comment from one of the removal staff got me thinking. “You’ve got a lot of funny shaped boxes mate – do you need all of these instruments? 

What a silly question! Do I need all these instruments?! Of course I do! 

Or do I? 

It is a question I’ve asked myself a few times lately and, even now, I do not have an answer. I came to music fairly late. Having learned to play as a child I stopped when I was still very young, taking quite a lengthy break from playing before discovering brass banding in my final year of high school. A hasty reworking of my subject choices led to me being able to undertake my music degree and a whole world of new and exciting playing opportunities opened up in front of me. 

As a trombone player, there were perhaps more opportunities than the other brass players with most ensembles wanting a trombone player for one reason or another. Jazz, Wind, Orchestral, Big Band, Swing, Funk, Jump Jive, Brass ensembles (particularly at Christmas) and even a pirate themed folk group. Naturally of course this required additional instruments and equipment – small, medium or large bore, no trigger, one trigger, two triggers, and mutes of all shapes and sizes. 

But now, working full time with (usually) a commute and with a family to look after, my playing time has nose-dived. As I have eluded to before, the reason for starting this blog was a means of reconnecting with music because my playing time had dwindled so dramatically. 

In recent days still with the comment in my mind I have begun to think about which of my instruments could go. My first instrument I was bought as a child? The first instrument I bought? Two I have inherited? A Custom job made by a family member? My garishly coloured P-Bone? 

No. And for one simple reason. I have an emotional connection to each one of these instruments. A quote attributed to Plato states “Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything”. In times when making music in an ensemble setting here in the UK is not possible, when people across the globe are suffering in the midst of a pandemic and when government officials are quoted as telling musicians to ‘retrain’ it is important to remember and reflect on the importance of music and creative arts in our lives. Music evokes and stirs our deepest emotions. Memories of loved ones, shared experiences, special events and of happier, simpler times when we
could gather with friends, make music together and simply share with each other on a weekly basis. Composers write from the heart, and we as players perform from the heart. 

To sell some of my instruments is to sell a part of me, part of my connection to the musical world. Music is an indefinable, intangible presence for everyone and at this time in particular, music is more important than ever.