Inspiration and Perspiration

Stravinsky (somewhat contentiously) said he was inspired to compose the Rite of Spring after a ‘waking vision’. The contentious part is that various scholars have suggested there might have been a bit more to it than that, but he is one of many creative minds who have suggested dreams as a basis for inspiration. Personally speaking, since the start of the Pandemic my dreams have been a little bit too inspired to be of any use, with any number of subsequent mornings spent thinking ‘what was that all about?’. But even before Covid, in general, I’ve always found inspiration is more likely to be derived from some form of movement or exercise. 

I first noticed there was something in this when I was studying for my A-Levels (a long time ago now!). I noticed that if I paced around the room whilst trying to assimilate assorted quotations and facts that I was much more successful than when I sat still.  When I sat still the concepts and ideas were there, but then they were almost instantly gone. Although this revelation wasn’t anything to do with inspiration, I became aware of the link between mind and body, or in this case, body and mind. The fact that my legs were doing something seemed to help my brain to function more effectively. 

I was never particularly athletic growing up. Not for want of trying – I really would love to have actually been good at Football or Cricket, but unfortunately (being diplomatic) my talents lay elsewhere. When I went to study music at College I wasn’t in the habit of jogging or doing anything active, but I did do a lot of walking. I had a half an hour walk from where I was living to the College almost every day, and these walks were incredibly important to my musical development. I found myself thinking of melodies, motifs and ideas, trying to visualise and internalise modes and musical concepts whilst navigating between irate commuters around Ealing Broadway. 

After studying in London, I moved back to the North East and began Postgraduate study at the University of York. I was travelling from Durham to York on the train, and then walking from the station to the University campus for most of my 5 years whilst studying there. The half an hour walk from the station to the campus was invaluable in the same way it had been in London. Whilst I was living in Durham I would also walk around the Riverbanks before beginning my Composition work on most mornings. It’s a very beautiful place, filled with the sound of Cathedral bells and birdsong, but I think it was the walking that got my brain in gear for the day. There was a lot of waiting around on train station platforms as well with time to kill. I remember trying to get to grips with tuplets and polyrhythms whilst sat on a bench on a platform at York station. Assimilating this rhythmic concept still involved movement – even though I was sat down I was basically drumming on my thighs and moving my legs and feet. I may have looked a bit out of place, but it really helped with my musicianship!  

 In 2008, on my birthday, my brother asked if I would like to run a fell race (a strange sort of present I might add). I had never done this before, in fact at this point the most strenuous exercise I’d done since before college was walking. I was both proud and ashamed that I came second from last in the race, a little shocked at how out of shape I was compared to before I went to study in London. There were some really, really old runners involved too who left me panting a long way behind and considering my mortality! 

I started to be a bit more proactive about exercise. Not always managing, but always being aware that I should go for a jog, or something else other than just walking. Durham Council then opened a new swimming pool in the city centre which I joined and found myself going swimming at least 3 times a week. Whilst swimming lengths I remember thinking through Coltrane changes in different keys, trying to recall standards and improvising melodic lines in my head (and making sure my actual head stayed above the water!). 

On different occasions I also tried specifically to not think. Effectively I was looking for some form of meditation. I’d try to count the lengths and focus on the numbers, but this didn’t always work. My mind is often very determined to wander, and at times exceptionally anxious. One thing is a constant though, after exercise the anxiety has always subsided. There isn’t necessarily an obvious overwhelming joy after every bit of activity, but things always feel more ordered and logical; what were previously impossible problems suddenly seem to have a solution. 

Moving later to Newcastle and then Tynemouth, I took up jogging more seriously instead of swimming. I realised that it’s really good for me to go running first thing in the morning. Sometimes when I get up (perhaps because of lingering dreams?) I feel like I have a head full of wasps, everything seems fuzzy, and often anxiety about the day can result in some intense internal monologues. 

I set off on a run, pushing past any sense of ‘do I have to?’ and in no time I feel so much better. Not only does everything seem to calm down and make more sense, but inspiration often strikes along the run. Musical ideas seem to just appear in my head. The challenge then is to keep the ideas in my mind - sometimes developing them as the jog continues – so that when I get home, I can write them down before they disappear.  

I’m probably verging on being a serious jogger now. I’ve started wearing short shorts, proper shoes and using an app to measure the distance covered. I’ve even started checking my pace after each run. As the running obsession has developed, I also think my musical practice routine has become more committed. I realised at one point that I was getting more interested in my running than my piano practice. I decided to change the way I was practising. Introducing new approaches combining technical and creative exercises, and not being afraid to mix things up every now and then. As the expression goes ‘a change is as good as a break’. Which is something else I discovered in my jogging after running the same route for months, before one day deciding to run somewhere different and stumbling on a much nicer route. 

Just as music is a balance of variety and repetition, exercise I find needs to be both. In fact, you can probably consider it more broadly. As humans, we need to find and feel a groove, but then over time, a groove can become a rut, and nobody wants to be stuck in a rut.