Mozart, Mendelssohn and mmm....
Recently, I found myself sitting in Derby Cathedral, completely mesmerised by Sinfonia Viva's performance of Mendelssohn's Hebrides Overture. This piece holds a special place in my heart, as I studied it as part of my Music O Level (yes, I'm THAT old!), dissecting its structure, themes and historical context. Yet, despite knowing its technical elements intimately, the emotional impact remains undiminished. As the music swelled around me, I felt a profound sense of presence that I hadn't experienced in quite some time. The outer world faded away, and I was simply there, breathing in harmony with the ebb and flow of the orchestra.
The programme also included Mozart's Clarinet Concerto, and I must confess, it absolutely made me melt. There's something about the way Mozart weaves silence with light and shade into his compositions that creates space for profound emotional response. His famous observation that "The music is not in the notes, but in the silence between" refers to the crucial importance of silence in music, emphasising that pauses and rests provide context and allow the music to breathe.
Think about it: without silence, music would be nothing but noise. The deliberate pauses, the held breaths, and the moments of quiet anticipation give the notes their power. The silence allows the music to be heard and appreciated, it creates the canvas upon which the musical colours can shine.
This is true not just of music but of life itself.
The Spaces Between
In our relentlessly busy world, we rarely pause to notice the spaces between. We fill every moment with noise, with scrolling, with doing. Yet it's in those quiet moments, the silences between the notes, where we often find our greatest clarity.
Just as Mozart understood that silence gives meaning to sound, we might consider how the pauses in our lives give meaning to our experiences. The breath between words in a meaningful conversation. The moment of stillness before we respond to a challenge. The quiet reflection after a day's work. These are the rests in our personal symphony.
Live music forces us to enter those spaces. Unlike recorded music that we can pause or use as background noise, a live performance demands our attention. It creates a shared mindful experience that's becoming increasingly rare in our fragmented world. When that clarinet sang its heart out in Mozart's concerto, the audience was held in those pregnant pauses, breathing together in the silence.
Attending a live performance, we're not just listening with our ears. We're feeling the vibrations through the floor, watching the passionate expressions of the musicians, and experiencing the audience's collective energy. It's a full-body, multi-sensory experience that recorded music, brilliant as it can be, simply cannot replicate.
Think about your favourite film for a moment. Now imagine it without its soundtrack. Without its visuals. It becomes something entirely different, doesn't it? The same applies to our lives, when we engage all our senses, we experience life more fully, more richly.
Musicians as Mindfulness Teachers
Have you ever watched a musician fully absorbed in their craft? They embody what psychologist Csikszentmihalyi called 'flow', that state of complete immersion where time seems to stand still and the mind is fully focused on the task at hand. Musicians must be utterly present and utterly focused. They become unwitting teachers of mindfulness.
Through my MSc research on orchestral musician well-being, I discovered that when musicians are truly flourishing, with good working conditions, fair treatment, and proper support, their ability to reach that flow state and share it with audiences is dramatically enhanced. Happy, healthy musicians create better music. It's that simple.
Next time you attend a live performance, observe the musicians closely. Notice how they breathe with the music and how they connect with each other through subtle glances and movements. When you see that genuine joy and engagement, you're witnessing the fruits of good musician welfare. It's a profound lesson in communication, with ourselves and with others.
There's something almost primordial about experiencing music with a group of others. For thousands of years, our ancestors gathered around fires to create rhythm and melody. When we attend a concert, classical, rock or pop, we're tapping into that ancient tradition of communal experience.
Research in positive psychology shows that such shared experiences significantly boost our well-being. They remind us that we're not isolated individuals but part of something larger, a truth that's easy to forget in our increasingly individualised society. These shared experiences create a sense of belonging and connection, which are crucial for our mental and emotional health.
Preserving This Precious Resource
Live music, like all performing arts, faces challenges. From funding cuts to the digital revolution, there are very real threats to this precious resource. Yet its value is immeasurable.
When we support live music, whether by attending concerts, funding community music programmes, or advocating for fair working conditions for musicians, we're not just preserving cultural traditions. We're safeguarding a powerful tool for collective well-being and individual self-care. We're ensuring that the people who create this magic can thrive in their craft.
A Self-Care Practice
Consider making live music part of your regular self-care routine. It doesn't have to be classical, it might be folk music at your local pub, jazz in a small club, a community choir in which you participate, or even a rock concert in a stadium. Whatever resonates with you.
The beauty of using live music as self-care is that it combines so many well-being practices: mindfulness, community connection, sensory engagement, and the emotional catharsis that music so often provides.
A Simple Practice to Take Home
Even when you can't attend a live performance, you can bring some of its benefits into your daily life:
Create a mindful listening practice. Choose a piece of music you love. Perhaps, like me, it's Mozart's Clarinet Concerto or Mendelssohn's Hebrides Overture. Sit comfortably, close your eyes, and listen as if you were in a concert hall. Notice not just the notes but the silences between them. Feel the music in your body. When your mind wanders (as minds do), gently bring it back to the music.
Five minutes of this practice can reset your nervous system and bring you back to the present moment.
Are you allowing space for the silences between the notes? Are you paying attention to the whole sensory experience of being human? Are you connecting with others in meaningful ways?
Live music invites us to consider these questions. In a world that often feels too loud, fast, and disconnected, we need to gather together and listen, not just to the music but to the silence, each other, and ourselves.
What piece of music has moved you most deeply? I'd love to hear about your experiences with live music and how it connects to your self-care.
I'm Sarah, The Positivity Pathfinder. I help you develop realistic optimism, acknowledging difficulty whilst maintaining agency. Like trees that bend with storms rather than break, we grow by adapting to what is, not forcing what isn't ready. Real change takes imperfect work.
It'd be great to work together. Get in touch hello@sarahgatford.co.uk