What is success to you? – Kevin

Life is shallow without dreams, but dreams are impossible without humility, respect and a constant thirst for excellence. (Kevin)

Prologue

250 years ago, Captain James Cook sailed from Yorkshire across the world, making landfall in New Zealand. His objectives to observe the transit of Venus across the sun in Tahiti, and to search for the fabled great southern continent were inspired by instinct and dreams of discovery. 469 years before Captain Cook landed; the Polynesian people arrived in dugout canoes, having sailed thousands of miles across the Pacific fuelled by the same instinct and dreams of discovery. Instincts are the catalysts for change, and trusting our child-like response to hopes and dreams is the key to unlocking doors into new worlds.

Musical beginnings

I am the descendant of British settlers who went to New Zealand in hope of adventure and discovery, and I grew up in that distant, beautiful and mysterious land watching penguins from the South Pole waddle onto the beach, similarly driven by their natural instinct to paddle towards new territory. At the age of five, I watched a brass band march past in the local park. Transfixed by the sight and sound of the trombonists leading the way, my life’s obsession began. Waiting for my arms to grow long enough for a trombone, I began on the trumpet and listened obsessively to recorded music. On my tenth birthday, I received a recording of the Philip Jones Brass Ensemble and the shiny vinyl LP ceremoniously played during the family meal revealed lyrical sensitivity blended with power and purpose, and the most gorgeous trombone tone on earth from John Iveson.

Living the dream

My second obsession began at that point, with a letter sent to John Iveson at the Royal College of Music stating my desire to study in the UK and become a professional orchestral musician. I practised day and night, listened to music whenever I was not playing the trombone, and took as many part time jobs as possible in order to save money for study in the UK. I completed an academic undergraduate degree at University in NZ and in 1989 landed in London with a suitcase and a trombone to start life afresh, trusting my dream and the instinct that life as an orchestral musician in the UK was possible. In 1991, I joined the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic as Principal Trombone and went on to marry a fellow RCM student. Teaching roles at RNCM and Chetham’s School of Music followed, along with a new baby every four years (we stopped after our third child!). Life felt easy and natural, with a real sense that the work invested in my teenage years had created a deep-seated craft, which could be trusted and which enabled musical individuality and artistic exploration within an orchestral context.

Pain replaced the joy of performing

In my early thirties, opportunities beyond my greatest dreams came along with trials for Principal positions at RPO, LSO and Royal Opera house along with unexpected freelance opportunities including touring with Stevie Wonder. I said “yes” to everything, driven by the joy of performing and surprised that I was sitting in the same seats as my childhood heroes. Pleasure and joy sadly turned into pain and confusion, with a chronic shoulder injury resulting from the relentless work schedule and practise routine. I was unable to hold my instrument, and took 9 months off to see 38 medical specialists and therapists. Playing no-longer felt instinctive or joyful and my sense of physical balance, mental trust and emotional faith transformed into physical tension, mental fear an emotional anxiety (see the attached illustration). A judicious mix of medical and therapeutic support enabled me to re-join the orchestra, with new physical and psychological strategies for performing also informing my approach to teaching and professional mentoring. My compromised faith and self-belief as a performer counterbalanced a renewed and invigorated approach to instrumental teaching, enhanced empathy and a desire to understand my injury, preventative strategies for musicians and ways to develop support and help for performing artists. Combined self-doubt and a desire for reinvention led to a new role as Head of Brass at RWCMD and drew me to a meeting at Cardiff University to discuss the Bioscience of Musical Performance with Dr Alan Watson.

Exploring the balance of an artists’ body, mind and emotions

I shared my personal experience of performance-related injury and within a few days, I became Alan’s personal lab-rat, trying to play my trombone whilst connected to a spider web of electrodes and a blinking bank of computers whilst pretending to understand his detailed scientific analysis of my muscle activity and biofeedback. Ignorance and curiosity led me to attend Alan’s evening classes on the Bioscience of Musical Performance, where I first began to appreciate the delicate balance of body, mind and emotions that performing artists must maintain. Alan patiently endured my questions, and provided incredible opportunities to develop knowledge and insight, including the humbling experience of viewing a human brain. Alan’s work generated a book on the Biology of Musical Performance, which inspired the structure and content of a comprehensive RWCMD Enhancing Performance module, with additional modules on Biology for Musicians, which cover performance physiology, ergonomics and injury prevention. We also developed RWCMD research projects focused on the physiology of wind playing, fed by generations of patient electrode-covered students, leading to a series of published papers and student-devised projects.

Bioscience of Musical Performance

I shared my personal experience of performance-related injury and within a few days, I became Alan’s personal lab-rat, trying to play my trombone whilst connected to a spider web of electrodes and a blinking bank of computers whilst pretending to understand his detailed scientific analysis of my muscle activity and biofeedback. Ignorance and curiosity led me to attend Alan’s evening classes on the Bioscience of Musical Performance, where I first began to appreciate the delicate balance of body, mind and emotions that performing artists must maintain. Alan patiently endured my questions, and provided incredible opportunities to develop knowledge and insight, including the humbling experience of viewing a human brain. Alan’s work generated a book on the Biology of Musical Performance, which inspired the structure and content of a comprehensive RWCMD Enhancing Performance module, with additional modules on Biology for Musicians, which cover performance physiology, ergonomics and injury prevention. We also developed RWCMD research projects focused on the physiology of wind playing, fed by generations of patient electrode-covered students, leading to a series of published papers and student-devised projects.

What are you without your instrument?

My fundamental challenge throughout the transition from full-time performance into education and mentorship was to maintain a sense of musicianship and creativity in all aspects of life. The daunting prospect of life without a trombone in my hand challenged my self-image and generated a daunting question: “what are you, without your instrument?” The illusive answer eventually became obvious; I am a musician- a professional listener and interpreter living in service to others. I live to encourage those who systematically devote their lives to develop disciplined craft in order to find an artistic voice that reflects thoughts, emotions and dreams. The concept of success is dangerous if not tempered with a sense of humility and respect for our craft and art, and a thirst for excellence. Every day we begin again, re-establishing fundamental skills and discipline in hope of achieving freedom during performance, revealing personal depth and sincerity. These core values hold true for all people, but as musicians, we face the prospect of public humiliation or tribulation every time we perform, and as professionals, we constantly seek out the opportunity to be tested. Life is shallow without dreams, but dreams are impossible without humility, respect and a constant thirst for excellence.