Last October, while getting ready eparing for a performance in a park, I surprised the makeup lady who had asked me if I was nervous. I replied that I was not nervous, because I got used to accepting unexpected events. She kindly said: “Oh, but I am sure there will be no unexpected events.” “Of course there will”, I thought, but since I had to be quiet so she could apply the lipstick, I kept my mouth wide shut.

I did not want to sound pessimistic, blasé or anything like that. I just knew that something would go wrong, simply because it was a live performance, in a public place. For starters, you cannot control the weather (although humanity has systematically proven that it is possible to make it considerably worse).

What experience has taught me is that live performances are subject to unforeseen events (of course, studio recordings are too, but in these cases, repetitions and corrections are made until the desired state is reached, and if you are interested in recordings, you will probably like to read about my most recent recording experience, reported here), they are is a kind of playground for the unexpected. The stage is a place where every corner invites spontaneity and surprise. Good and bad ones, of course.

In my first live performances I was nervous precisely because I wanted to control everything that happened, from the technical part, through the musicians, to the interaction with the audience; I wanted everything to be rehearsed to the millimeter. This desire for meticulous control stemmed from my deep passion for music and an unwavering commitment to providing an unforgettable experience, but despite its noble origins, this type of behavior can be quite harmful in the end.

The very thought of an unforeseen was responsible for a good amount of totally unnecessary anxiety, until I understood that live performances are unpredictable, it does not matter who is on stage. It is not a question of being a professional or not. Even the performer with the largest team and infinite financial resources will still be acting under the influence of several factors that he simply cannot control. And if we are talking about a festival, with several acts, the unpredictability factor increases exponentially.

I realized that this exaggerated fear of the unexpected was limiting and, above all, very frustrating. It held me back from experiencing the richness of the stage experience. Worst of all, it kept me from having fun while performing, and darling, if you are not having fun on stage, neither is the audience.

Learning to appreciate the beauty of uncertainty can be a difficult exercise, but the more you practice, the easier it becomes, and once you learned the ropes, nothing can make you nervous anymore. In fact, I believe it is a dynamic process that extends not only throughout a career, but also into our daily lives. By accepting and embracing the unexpected, I have become not only a more confident performer, but also a less fearful human being.

Let us not forget that the great Nina Simone once stated that freedom is to live without fear. And this is the kind of lesson that you take from the stage to life.

Be seeing you!

G.F.