This past Saturday I played at two different memorials back-to-back. The first one was traditional with visitation from 10:00-11:00AM and then a service from 11:00-12:00. During the visitation I played light classical music and then I accompanied a singer for three songs during the service.
She was an experienced singer with a nice voice so that helped a lot. However, I had to record backing tracks for her to practice with because she had never worked with a guitarist before. We were able to get together once to rehearse a few days earlier so when Saturday came we performed well together.
The second memorial was from 1:00-4:00 at a different facility just down the road. There was no service, just a couple of speeches during a reception-like event. I had enough time to get from one to another and set up my equipment. However, lunch was only a granola bar eaten during the drive and a sip of water to wash it down.
The family had requested I play as much '60s and '70s pop and folk music as possible so I spent a lot of time in the preceding weeks arranging and preparing new songs. I think the final tally was about twenty. These were mixed in with the usual classical pieces that I play as background. Sort of like chocolate chips in the cookie dough.
Unsolicited remarks at both events were positive. Many of the guests went out of their way to compliment me and I truly appreciated it. Most of the events that I play are customized like this so I'm never quite sure if my efforts are good enough until after. I worry obsessively (to my wife's annoyance).
The previous week my teaching studio was on spring break so luckily I had additional time to make it all work. This week, when I returned to teaching, my students asked me what I did over the break. I think they were a bit disappointed when I told them.
A point that I constantly try to make is that being an artist is not a regularly scheduled job. It's a lifestyle. I refuse to glamorize it because some of my students may be influenced and they need to know the truth.
But a life in the arts is also a privilege. The music I play at a memorial helps people say "Good Bye". The wedding music helps couples kick off their life together. When I play at church I am able to help people worship God. And when I play a recital I am able to help people remove the shackles of their worries and rest a bit. So, although I sometimes complain about being tired, I am also aware of just how lucky I am.