Lake Charles

April 20, 2022
Population: 77,832

We camped overnight on the beach of the Gulf of Mexico, but the winds were so strong that I eventually had to evacuate my tent and sleep in the van, smushed in between the piano, ramp, and Joel.

Especially in southern Louisiana, devastation from powerful storms was all around us everywhere we went.

We headed to Lake Charles, a city of 77,000 an hour north from the coast. This was another day of chasing down clues and recommendations for performance locations, and continuously striking out. We even went to the local mall - definitely where the most people were hanging out on a weekday, but security told us, “no music without permission.” I found a highly rated community center in the Black part of town so we headed over, only to find out it had been ruined by a hurricane a couple years back.

I wandered into a HIV care clinic to gather more clues, where the kind staff took interest in my project and spent an hour sitting down with me and chatting about life in Lake Charles. They said they were struck hard by two hurricanes within a month in 2019, then suffered flooding and freezing in 2020. All the while, cost of living is going up and insurance companies are pulling out of the area. Lake Charles has one of the worst pollution in the country, caused by nearby industrial plants.

We eventually set up the piano at their lakefront park, which like many other public spaces visited on this tour, was beautiful but sparsely used. In contrast to the depressing conversation at the care clinic, my audiences were mostly bubbly teenagers and children, including this sweet girl who just started learning piano and played for me a piece that she is playing in the very first recital of her life next month. After we parted ways, they came back to give me goodies from her mom’s baking small business!

This was a day where I felt like I floundered; although I learned a good amount, I didn’t feel like I made any impact with my playing. But my definition of “success” was continuously evolving on this journey. What is a “successful” performance, anyway? In conservatories, we’re told many things: being faithful to the instructions composers gave us on the score, but finding creativity in our own interpretations. Accuracy, virtuosity, individuality, charisma, a depth of emotions, yet all with a certain humility. Playing in prestigious concert halls on top-notch instruments for a full house. Was making one meaningful connection with a stranger who yearned for validation in his existence - like with Jonny from New Iberia - a successful performance? Even though I only played about 10 minutes of music for him? I thought so. Is one such encounter in an entire tour enough? I didn’t think so.

What I really wanted out of this tour, it was clear by this point, was to unlock the keys to a gathering space - a place locally beloved and truly a hub for community. But I didn’t know how to find out where they were, much less how to be invited to play. For now, I had to keep driving, keep showing up, keep throwing darts.