'Tiring but replenishing': one pianist's commitment to the community

I am often asked how audiences benefit from the concerts I give in schools and prisons, though few inquire what I gain from this work personally. Yet these endeavours are not purely altruistic. The benefits to musicians of doing what we term ‘community engagement work’ are manifold, and can profoundly influence our artistic pursuits.

Throughout my career, I have dabbled with community projects, giving isolated concerts in care homes and schools. It was only when we moved to Gloucestershire four years ago that this became a meaningful strand of my work. As an itinerant musician, it is difficult to feel rooted in one place. We are continually traveling, engage superficially with many people over the course of a tour, and are under considerable pressure to perform well under scrutiny. The psychological toll this can take is significant. Indeed, at this time I was grappling with severe anxiety.

As a result, I was determined not to treat our new home as a transit stop, but to forge links with my community. I approached Gloucestershire Music and proposed an ongoing series of school concerts across the county for children who might not otherwise have the chance to engage with classical music. This is tried-and-tested territory and I was certainly not the first musician to tread this path. It was a valuable way to feel connected to people and the rewards were palpable from the outset. To sense the children’s enthusiasm on hearing Rachmaninov, Unsuk Chin or even a glissando for the first time, is energising.

Just under a year later, I gave birth to our second daughter. My anxiety morphed into postnatal depression which became severe as time progressed. As I lost touch with reality and became less capable of making rational decisions, I sensed a potent and overwhelming guilt that was unbearable. I was sucked into a vortex of self-reproach and interpreted everything I saw, read or heard in the most negative light possible. Eventually, I became incapable of experiencing joy or even remembering what that felt like. I needed to find an outlet, some way to escape these toxic and debilitating thoughts.

I decided, almost on a whim, to start giving concerts in prisons and my husband put me in touch with the Chaplain at HMP Onley. I had no idea whether the recital would be well-received by the in-mates, but I was willing to take the risk. I developed spoken introductions that highlighted struggles the composers had experienced, particularly to do with mental health. As it turned out, this was the key to engaging my audience. Restless energy in the hall transformed to an intense focus as I described Schubert’s experience of syphilis and social isolation, then performed his Impromptu in G-flat major.

My path to recovery was long and difficult, but was materially helped by my encounters with prisoners and schoolchildren. Apart from the psychological and social benefits, the experience of communicating music to an audience who may be unfamiliar with the genre has had long-lasting artistic ramifications. I am now a more engaging speaker, feel a renewed commitment to music, and value what I can contribute in familiar concert settings more highly. Many promoters have asked me to design mixed projects for them: to give recitals alongside pre-concert talks, community concerts or Q&A sessions for example. I have a sense of vocation that was lacking, and am more fulfilled personally in every way.

Given my own positive experience, I would certainly encourage other musicians considering this kind of work to take the leap. It is vital to go into it with a genuine intention to contribute and to engage with others. Sometimes that will be dependent on personal experience. I am certain that I could not have performed in prisons, and created an authentic connection with audiences there, if I had not suffered from mental illness. Although the work can be tiring, it is also replenishing and offers a positive way to offset the psychological demands of a traditional concert career. I have developed resilience, joy and purpose in a way that would have been unimaginable to me two years ago.

As an introvert, it took me longer, perhaps, than most to fully understand that humans can only exist as social beings. We know ourselves exclusively through our relationships with others, something the pandemic has thrown into sharp relief. Moreover, music can only ever mean something when it is communicated. I have been grateful over the past year for recordings, broadcasts and live-stream recitals, but they can never replace live performance. In concert, I am continually inspired artistically by encounters with audiences in any and every context. Seeing how profoundly music can connect us, particularly in challenging environments, gives me real and lasting hope.

To learn about ways to contribute, visit Live Music Now, Changing Tunes, The Irene Taylor Trust and Koestler Arts.

Clare Hammond’s new recording of 20th and 21st century variations for piano is out on 5 March on the BIS label: Variations - BIS: BIS2493 - SACD or download | Presto Classical (prestomusic.com)

Watch the trailer below.