The Orpheus Test

Much like Orpheus, I often struggle to attain the perfect balance of creative emotion and disciplined action. In the ancient myth, Orpheus and Eurydice, Hades permits Orpheus to bring his beloved deceased wife, Eurydice, back from the underworld under one condition: Orpheus cannot look back at Eurydice as they ascend to the mortal realm. This seems like a simple enough task. All that Orpheus needs to do is exercise some self-discipline. And yet, the great musician and poet fails, and Eurydice disappears.

The myth conveys a lesson in patience and faith: passion should not get the best of us. Music plays a major role in Orpheus’ story. After all, his musical prowess lands him the beautiful Eurydice, gets him past three-headed Cerberus, and convinces Hades to let Eurydice go. However, the passion that connects Orpheus so deeply to music also leads to his demise. Is he simply too creatively-driven to adhere to constricting instructions? Must he always follow his heart and bow to his emotions, whatever they may be? Perhaps, it isn't possible to get that ideal balance between discipline and creativity. It certainly wasn’t for Orpheus.

In my experience, balancing the heartfelt emotion of the violin with the exact precision necessary to perfectly create the tones is a constant work in progress. Since first playing the Overture to Orpheus in the Underworld with the National Children’s Orchestra at age 11, I have created a check on my emotions as I prepare for performances. I call it the Orpheus Test. If I feel I’m losing sight of the score, sacrificing exactness for emotion, I know to scale it back. If the opposite is true and I’m lacking in feeling because I’m overly focused on the notes, I crank up the passion. In this way, I strive to harmonise spirit and meticulousness in my performances.