People think of the performing arts as a glamorous way of life, but they don't often think of the hard work and difficulties involved. I am a soprano, and I practice most of every day. If I am not giving a performance, then my work is learning new pieces and practicing my skills. Singing is very physical, and I have to watch what I eat and also exercise regularly. Furthermore, performing is extremely stressful. Besides worrying about performing well, I worry about how audiences will receive me, which is a different issue. I have to deal with all kinds of people, who sometimes have strange ideas about music and musicians, and strong opinions about them.
Furthermore, traveling and working in many different venues bring their own challenges. situations. Touring is an important part of my career, because that is how I get to be known in the wider world and how I get more engagements, but it is also very difficult. I have to deal with travel issues like canceled and delayed flights, uncomfortable accommodations, bad food, and unsatisfactory performance venues.
As a solo artist, I also have to have a good piano accompanist. A good accompanist has to be, first of all, a good musician. Furthermore, he/she has to have musical compatibility with the soloist and also has to be a good work partner. I am so lucky to have Eric as my accompanist. He checks all the boxes. Also, while he has always been a complete professional, he supports me emotionally, something that I really appreciate.
One might think that a romance, or at least a physical relationship, might develop between a soloist and her/his accompanist. They are thrown together in all kinds of situations and have to work through them together. Those experiences usually create a special bond, but what kind?
Eric has been, from the beginning of our association, totally correct and professional with respect to me. While I really appreciate his support, he has been so physically restrained that I sometimes wondered if he was gay. After an especially good or an especially bad recital experience, he would often give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but that was all.
The one exception to that rule, prior to our most recent tour, about which I will tell more soon, occurred when I slipped, fell, and broke my ankle. Eric pretty much had to carry me to get help. I was draped over him, and our bodies were pressed together. I felt a bulge in his pants grow, press against my body, and then, eventually, shrink again. That somewhat answered the question of physical attraction, but, afterwards, Eric returned to his character of being a consummate professional, musician, and gentleman.
Our most recent tour started out as many tours have, but it turned into a logistical nightmare. I missed one recital when one of our flights was delayed, and we missed the connection to the next city. In another place, the piano on stage in the hall was poorly tuned. Eric, in a rage that was partly real and partly tactical, demanded that the piano be retuned, "Immediately," (which it was).
