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The Jukebox Album – Tom Poster (piano) and Elean Urioste (violin)

Few of us believed the 2020 lockdown would go on for more than a couple of weeks. In the midst of the initial announcement by government, many musicians – and others – watched in horror as their work dried up overnight. When it became apparent that this was no “two weeks to flatten the curve”, musicians had no work in prospect with concert halls and venues closed for the foreseeable future. Bereft of live performances, many turned to the internet as a means of sharing their music with others and a number of very imaginative projects grew out of the weeks of isolation.

#UriPosteJukeBox, created by violinist Elena Urioste and pianist Tom Poster (the handle is a portmanteau of their surnames, and they are a husband-and-wife duo), was originally intended “to simply to keep our minds sharp, fingers busy, and friends smiling” (Elena Urioste) by sharing a daily music video for each day spent in isolation. The inclusion of the word “jukebox” in the hashtag gave the project “an old-timey method of enjoying music” and the musicians invited their virtual audience to suggest what they might play, thereby adding another “jukebox” element to their performances. Flooded with requests, the project that took off in ways the duo had never dreamed of, capturing the imaginations and hearts of listeners around the world, and embracing requests that traversed many musical genres – from Bach to Britney Spears, Mozart to Messiaen, Sondheim to nursery rhymes and even mash-ups of pop songs of the 1980s! The pair entertained their virtual audiences and followers with daily videos, featuring increasingly elaborate costumes, props, additional instruments, and multi-tracking. In all, they made 88 videos – one for each key on the piano. The impact of the endeavour and the joy it brought to so many during an extraordinarily challenging time was formally recognised with a Royal Philharmonic Society Inspiration Award

The project also led to new commissions – An Essay of Love by Mark Simpson (conceived for the pair even before they approached him), Bloom by Cheryl Frances-Hoad, Emotiva by Clarice Assad, Arietta by Huw Watkins, Bha là eile ann (There was a different day) by Donald Grant, and Peace by Jessie Montgomery-,  pieces written in response to or reflections on lockdown and the strange, uncertain days of 2020. These pieces were premiered in the daily music videos and have now found their way onto The Jukebox Album, a collection of 16 of the duo’s favourite pieces from the project.

In keeping with the eclecticism and imagination of the original project, the album presents a wide range of music – from much-loved favourites like A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, Send In The Clowns and La Vie En Rose (all given a wonderfully “vintage” sound through Urioste’s silky violin tone and Poster’s warm piano sound) to works by Lili Boulanger, Cecile Chaminade and Gabriel Fauré.

The opening track, Jerome Kern’s Look for the Silver Lining, reflects the spirit of the whole Jukebox project: bereft of concert work, Poster and Urioste sought a silver lining in their own situation, and embarked on something primarily to keep themselves occupied and to give them focus (“I probably would’ve put the violin in its case and not seen it for a month or two” – Elena Urioste), but which quickly became something joyful and uplifting to lighten the darkest days of lockdown, providing comfort and pleasure to the many people who craved music and connection.

The resulting Jukebox Album is a ‘recital disc’ of great variety and charm, all performed with commitment, care and obvious affection. Perhaps it is just the effect of listening after 18 months of lockdowns, restrictions, heightened anxiety, loss….but many of the pieces are tinged with poignancy – Bha là eile ann (There was a different day) by Donald Grant is a real tear-jerker track, but this is quickly dispelled by the jollity of the finale, Jukebox Toodle-oo, which features Tom Poster on piano, cello, descant recorder, kazoo, and swanee whistle, and has a delightful 1930s foot-tapping swing.

“This is the music we’ve loved our whole lives. The music world likes to pigeon-hole people, but this felt like the most authentic version of ourselves musically that we’ve ever been able to be publicly, because this is the music we’ve always loved playing.” – Tom Poster

The Jukebox Album is available on the Orchid Classics label

Tom and Elena chat about The Jukebox Album:

Tom: Which was your favourite track to record on The Jukebox Album?

Elena: I think I’d have to say the opening track, Jerome Kern’s Look for the Silver Lining. Not only did I get to multi-track four violin parts using the shimmeriest old-school sound I could produce, but the whole track had an authentic sense of #UriPosteJukeBox spontaneity, as Tom decided to arrange it the night before the recording sessions!

Elena: And which was your favourite track?

Tom: Almost certainly the closing track, the Jukebox Toodle-oo. Prior to this whole project, I really never expected to find myself laying down tracks on recorder, cello, swanee whistle and kazoo at the Menuhin Hall for Orchid Classics…

Tom: What was the funniest moment in the Jukebox Album recording sessions?

Elena: Sitting with our engineer, Patrick Allen, both of us crying with laughter as Tom recorded his kazoo tracks. I wish the adrenaline-fuelled (and wildly inaccurate) first take had been preserved on the final recording…

Elena: What was your favourite costume in the original #UriPosteJukeBox video series?

Tom: Probably the (accidental) Tin Teletubby of Oz. Or perhaps Olaf the Snowman, except for the carrot nose which kept poking me in the eyes, and the fact that Elena made me crouch down behind a piano as she attempted multiple takes of her opening monologue.

Tom: What’s one piece/song that was never requested which you’d have loved to include?

Elena: Boyz II Men’s On Bended Knee, though I’m afraid I don’t think I could do Wanya’s vocal pyrotechnics justice on the violin.

Elena: Who were you most worried might see the Jukebox series, and which video were you most hoping for them not to see?

Tom: My longtime piano teacher, Joan Havill. Having spent many years poring over the finer details of late Beethoven sonatas with her, I felt particularly nervous about the idea that she might see me playing Beyoncé on the recorder in the bath. In fact, I know she did see some of the videos (“well it’s lovely for people to see a lighter side of you, darling“) though I’ve no idea if she saw that one…

Elena: As many of our die-hard viewers know, Joey Urioste (Elena’s parents’ dog) starred in a few Jukebox videos. If you could invite any other animal to guest star, what/who would it be?

Tom: Gerald the proboscis monkey

Tom: Would you rather (a) walk out on stage to play the Mozart Bassoon Concerto at the Proms, having never played the bassoon, or (b) play every recital for the rest of your career with a pair of trousers hanging off your head, without ever being able to explain the reason?

Elena: The latter – in fact I think I’m going to do it regardless.

Elena: Koalas or wombats?

Tom: Wombats

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I have been very touched and moved by the many responses I received via this site and also on Twitter and Facebook in response to my article about my own estrangement from the piano during the past year, and I’m very grateful to people for writing with so much honesty – like David, a friend from my piano group, who has felt the loss of live music and singing with his choir really acutely:

Music was my release, my passion, my individuality and this was all taken away from me. Overnight. – David, amateur pianist & singer

Like me, David has found it difficult to engage with music via livestream, and regards making music, either solo as a pianist or with other people through his choir, as a more than just notes, but rather a “lifestyle” – something which brings not only pleasure, stimulation and self-fulfilment but also a sense of living a full life.

Others told me how the piano has been a lifesaver for them during a very challenging year. For Andrew, who was made redundant and had to move house, the piano has provided important continuity in his life:

I have played everyday through this whole traumatic period and I simply went back to the beginning. Bach. I opened book 2 of the ’48’ (I always seemed to play from book 1 in the past) and selected 2 preludes and fugues to start with and have slowly added another as I gained some sort of mastery over each one. The concentration, attention to detail, constant twists and turns in the part writing, compelled me to focus on this, and this alone for 60- 90 minutes a day. It was time away from the outside world and the pressure that surrounded me… without it I would have collapsed.

(It is interesting to note that several other people cited the music of Bach in providing much-needed stability and focus on their life, and I do think there is something about the structure of Bach’s music, coupled with its depth and beauty, that perhaps makes it a good choice for the long days of lockdown.)

It was my friend Rhonda who articulated so well what I had been feeling

In my experience, the loss of the music industry as I knew it feels as if the world has been upended. What had great meaning the day before the first lockdown felt drained of all relevance a month later. 

***

Few people would dispute that the last year has been difficult. Many of us have lived under extraordinary restrictions for months, unable to see family and friends and enjoy social and cultural activities. Largely confined to our homes, we have had to adapt to new ways of working, socialising and interacting with colleagues and friends.

For professional musicians, the last 12 months have been very challenging indeed. The almost complete shut down of concert venues and opera houses has led to loss of work and has highlighted the precariousness of the working life of musicians in an already insecure profession. The disruption from such a big external event as a global pandemic, and the loss of the music industry as they knew it, feels as if the whole world has been upended, and this has caused many to question whether live music will ever recover, and if so, what will it be like in the future? Some musicians are even considering leaving, or have left, the profession altogether.

In addition, many musicians – and I include amateur players in this too – have felt estranged from their instrument and the music they love. At times of stress, many of us turn to music for comfort and refreshment, as a listener and/or player. Yet the pandemic has, for some of us, put a huge gulf between us and the music we used to love to play and/or hear in concert. It no longer speaks to us or is meaningful in the way it was previously.

Rekindling that love will take time and patience. I felt a huge sense of loss when the London concert halls were forced to close in March 2020 and for many months I simply did not want to listen to or engage with classical music. It was akin to a sense of grief. Finding a way back to enjoying and playing music has been slow for some of us, and at times frustrating, but it is possible to rekindle the love.

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I am grateful to the people who have contacted me in response to my earlier article, who’ve shared their experiences, and who have offered practical advice, some of which I am sharing here:

  • Don’t feel guilty about not wanting to practice or listen to music. Be kind to yourself and accept that these feelings of dismotivation/disengagement will pass.
  • Seek out music that speaks to where your mind is now, even if it’s not what you would usually play or listen to. In recent months, as I’ve re-engaged with classical music, I have found myself drawn to more gentle, meditative or ambient “post-classical” repertoire.
  • If practicing feels like a huge chore, revisit previously-learnt repertoire which you like and know you can play well. Give yourself permission to just play, not make progress.
  • Try to gradually re-establish a routine, even if you’re only playing for 30 minutes a day. Routine fosters creativity and can also be very steadying in times of stress.
  • Talk to others. Many people are feeling the same and knowing you are not alone can be very supportive.
  • Listen to music – and listen randomly. Some of the music streaming services create random playlists based on your listening; this is a great way to discover new repertoire and may even encourage you to learn new pieces.
  • Be patient. The passion will return, don’t force it.

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Amateur pianists – how has lockdown been for you?

What have you been playing?

Have you practised more or less during lockdown?

How has your motivation been?

Have you been able to continue with piano lessons? (If you have regular lessons.) How have you found Zoom lessons?

What has lockdown “taught” you?

Please share your thoughts in the comments section or contact me if you’d prefer to talk in confidence

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This week I was reminded that it’s a year since the Royal Opera House, English National Opera, the Wigmore Hall and countless other music, opera and theatre venues shut their doors in the wake of the growing coronavirus pandemic.

At the time, it felt shocking, because for those of us who frequent these venues (and despite living in Dorset, I was travelling up to London at least twice a month to attend concerts and opera performances) it was a stark reminder that this virus, which until that point had felt rather unreal, was something we should now be taking seriously. That week, I had tickets to hear Chick Corea and Yuja Wang in concert at the Barbican; both events were of course cancelled, and now the virus had encroached directly upon my world, and my cultural and working life. The directors of a music festival, with whom I was working, hung on until the absolute last minute to announce the postponement of the festival, and then all my publicity/PR work dried up. The next weekend, the UK went into its first lockdown.

Looking back, I recall feeling anxious; I wasn’t worried about catching the virus (in fact, I think I almost certainly had it in January 2020 when I had what I can only describe as “a weird ‘flu”), but I was very concerned about my family, in particular my chef son who was out of work, and my mother-in-law, who lives on her own. When previously I might have taken refuge in music to alleviate or distract myself from the stress, I found I could not play the piano nor listen to classical music on the radio, or on disc. It just served to remind me what we had lost, and I found the prospect of no live music for goodness knows how long a depressing one.

In those early, anxious months of the first lockdown, the only classical music I listened to was the complete Beethoven piano sonatas performed by Jonathan Biss. This was special music – and I don’t need to elaborate here why Beethoven’s music is so meaningful to many of us – not only because I thought it was one of the most interesting interpretations of the piano sonatas I had encountered in recent years but also because the last concert I attended at Wigmore Hall was given by Jonathan Biss, playing a selection of Beethoven piano sonatas, just a few weeks before the Hall was forced to close. So this music felt significant for a number of reasons.

Meanwhile, amateur pianist friends were filling Facebook and YouTube with videos of them playing all manner of repertoire. For many of my pianist friends, this period of enforced isolation was a wonderful opportunity to do more practising, and, confined to their homes, they found they had the luxury of time. I wished I had their motivation – there was plenty of music I wanted to learn and play – but instead I felt a growing sense of estrangement from the instrument and music which I loved. My piano was out of tune as well (the tuner was due to come in the last week of March) and that quickly became another excuse not to practice.

So BBC Radio 3 and my classical playlists on Spotify were exchanged for my son’s playlists of hip hop and rap, reggae and (curiously) mixes of 80s pop music which took me back to my teens and student years. We listened to this music when we were cooking and it quickly became the soundtrack of most of 2020 (my son left London to live with us during lockdown). Occasionally, I would dip back into the music I thought I loved, but it just served to remind me, yet again, of what we missing.

By the early summer of 2020, things began to feel a little more positive and the Wigmore Hall launched a series of livestream concerts which were at once brilliant and incredibly poignant (I cried while watching Stephen Hough’s opening concert – it was wonderful to see beloved Wigmore Hall again but rather tragic to see it devoid of its audience).

As society began to unlock in early summer 2020, my piano tuner was able to work again and came to give my 1913 Bechstein some much-needed TLC. I played a little after that – the piano sounded wonderful and I had some new repertoire to learn and old favourites to revisit, but still I felt a strong sense of estrangement from the instrument and its literature.

I know I’m not alone in feeling this. Several professional musician friends expressed similar feelings of detachment from their music and instrument – perhaps understandably since the covid restrictions had decimated their concert diaries, and without the prospect of performances, and the focus and motivation which these bring, there seemed little point in practising.

The issue I have now is that I have spent too long away from the piano. It sits in its room in the basement of my house, and where previously I found its presence benign, I now find it rather hostile. It seems to be challenging me, and I feel guilty for neglecting it.

Of course I have nothing to feel guilty about. I don’t earn a living from playing or teaching the piano and it is entirely my choice whether or not I play it. But I am mindful of the fact that without regular practice, or simply playing for pleasure, it becomes harder to get back into the routine of playing. And routine is what I need.

I hope that when the concert halls reopen and I can enjoy live music again, with other people, the sense of estrangement will pass and the stimulation to play the piano once again will return.