Time to get back on the horse.

Five months after my end-of-summer podium appearance in Frontier Park, I found myself wondering if I could still conduct. This was not on account of any ailment or indisposition but rather because I would soon be returning to some aspects of performance life.

About a month ago, I received a message from the artistic administrator here in St. Louis. The SLSO was going hi-tech for some presentations from Powell Hall. Among other pieces, the Stravinsky Octet was on the docket. With anti-social measures in place, the musicians would be situated about six to ten feet from each other. These days, the Octet can be done without a conductor, as most wind players have performed it several times.

Those of you who are performers know that we typically had no patterns when it came to a daily schedule. Rehearsals and concerts would occur at any time. This variability affected virtually all our regimens, including diet and family. We settled into a life of inconsistencies.

That is how it was for more than fifty years of my existence. Ten months into pandemic life, things are quite different. It is almost impossible to remember the time when I had to set my alarm clock, which very rarely had the same waking time as the previous day. Even though I have had my share of either sleepless nights or trouble entering the Land of Nod, a 7:30 reveille has now become the norm, as has falling asleep well before midnight.

Hallelujah! 2021 has arrived, perhaps a bit more slowly than any of us would have preferred. And with it comes a very slight degree of optimism. Many believe that things could not get much worse, but that remains to be seen. Vaccine distribution has signaled a possible return to life as it was a year ago, but alongside signs of hope are some hidden warnings that our behaviors have forever changed.

For me, one of those warnings is apparent in how I get my entertainment fix these days. Being an avid movie fan, I have the opportunity to indulge in classics from years gone by and view previously undiscovered gems of the silver screen, all from the comfort of home. Meanwhile, I can devour whole seasons of worthwhile or escapist television in just a few sittings.

When I received a request from violinist Holly Mulcahy to write about what music we might use to improve mental health as we cope with the pandemic, I focused my attention on the words she used to describe our possible emotions (“anxiety, sadness, fear, anger, manic energy, lack of motivation”) as well as her directive: “pick a single work that reflects and supports that emotion, and then pick a secondary work that alleviates that feeling just a notch up or down.”

Hmm … that was a tough one. Were the musical remedies limited to the world of classical music? How could one really choose just one emotion? Was this request adding to the already burdensome weight of isolation?