The musicianship nurtured at Marlboro will never change. The commitment to the art and the craft remains as necessary now as ever. The communion with each other remains as necessary now as ever. The music itself remains as necessary now as ever. And the sheer idealism of the place is what will carry us through.
Marlboro gives us time: time to work, time to listen, time to learn. And in giving us the physical and temporal space we need, this in turn encourages us to trust our instincts and to be more daring in our musical choices.
As performing artists, it feels as if we are asked with each passing year to take on more duties beyond performing. Some of these changes are welcome: I love that we are invited to speak to our audiences, and I delight in cracking open the canon to include deeply needed, diverse viewpoints. Others, though, can feel like a burden—too many hours spent writing grants or retweeting photographs, per the presenter’s request, instead of being able to practice. Even rehearsals can feel like an unattainable commodity when you’re busy rushing from one performance to the next.
