Mid-July, I went to the Savonlinna Opera Festival for the first time. Hosted in the medieval Olavinlinna Castle, it is a unique venue for any number of classical opera. But it wasn’t Don Giovanni that charmed me off my feet. It was instead the passion displayed by the phenomenal pianist Peter Bence. And beyond envying his talent at the keyboard, banging away at the gorgeous Steinway & Sons grand piano, I envied his passion.
He began his Sunday evening performance with a few of his own compositions. One of them was inspired by the Fibonacci sequence (you can hear and watch a recording of the song on YouTube), a formula by which each figure is the sum of the two preceding ones (0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, and so on). I didn’t quite hear the Fibonacci numbers in the piece Bence played, but that hardly matters – what struck a cord deep inside of me was this source of inspiration for a musician. And that something in a discipline so seemingly far removed from his actually inspired him to innovate.
Curiously, this was not the first time I had come across this relationship between maths and music. For my eighteenth birthday, my mum got me a collection of essays by Daniel Tammet called Thinking in Numbers. In the essay ‘Einstein’s Equations,’ he gives examples of how Pythagoras, Gottfreid Leibniz, and Einstein himself, all found mathematics in music, in their rhythms, patterns, their harmonies.
In an earlier blog post, I wrote about being multitalented, or multipassionate, about generalists. The beauty of the prefix ‘multi’ is the ability to draw from any number of experiences and disciplines and to combine bits and pieces to form something new, to offer a unique view point. That’s why Bence’s piece that got its inspiration from Fibonacci numbers hit me so hard. He is, without a doubt, an incredibly talented musician. But he was also innovative at his instrument: he plucked the cords (a no-no for any classical pianist), he drummed at the wooden casket (a double no-no), he had all kinds of digital bits to help him get the sound and beat he needed. He was also a great showman, engaging the audience, with the stage lights flashing, blinking and twirling in perfect unison with his playing. And I think these, all of these additions that you don’t come across so often in the world of classical piano, or even with pop songs, are what give him that edge. There’s plenty of skilled pianists. But maybe not everyone can combine all the things Bence can. (Obviously, I know nothing of him aside from a great performance. Until proven wrong, I’ll stick with my theorem.)
As I walked out of the castle on the cobbled stones and the wooden pier, into an unusually warm and serene summer night, I felt elated and sad. Elated for such an unexpected joy (I had no expectation for the show, in all honesty, we just happened to book the tickets since we were in town anyway), and sad that I didn’t have my music, or my mathematics to be passionate about. There’s many things I like, and many things I’m good at. Mostly they overlap. But I don’t see a passion lying anywhere in that Venn diagram. Perhaps that’s quite alright, though: just because you’re not passionate over something, doesn’t mean you can’t be exceedingly great at it. I also think that not being fixated on a single outcome allows me to try different things and grow my experience. But sometimes you get to the point professionally where you’ve learnt everything you can in a job, and you want to try something new, become good at something else, too. That’s where I struggle with no clear passion. Where should I turn my attention to next?
I admire people with a passion for something. On occasion, I also envy it. Not so that I’d wish they lose it, but in the sense that I’d love to feel that, too. But what is passion, anyway? Something that you lose yourself in? Where time is irrelevant? Where any fatigue and frustration are just the inevitable side effects of doing what you love with a fervor? I suppose it lies somewhere between interest and obsession. Perhaps it’s also okay to remain inspired by others’ passion and seek meaningful things to do, even if you’re not passionate about them (yet).
Are you passionate about something? Is your profession or side-hustle related to it? What inspires you?
Sidetracked 
Leave a comment