Finding a Way
Spread Joy campaign. Photo courtesy of Michael Hicks.
By Michael Hicks
It’s 5 am on a Saturday morning as I begin this personal essay for the third time. The computer screen stares back at me, impatient with my lack of input and hesitation. I’ve had false starts, heading down a path before realizing that it didn’t ring true.
I’m struggling to capture what it’s like living during the time of COVID-19. Every day is a different story, a different challenge – what works today and seems like the right answer might feel outdated by the same time tomorrow. My professional and personal lives are in constant flux, and I struggle to make sense of it at times. Whenever I do feel I’m getting a handle on an aspect of it, something else appears and throws me off track. It’s akin to the old whack-a-mole arcade game that frustrated me as a child.
Even the fact that I’m up at this time on a Saturday morning is a testament to the ever-changing nature of this year. I cannot sleep. In the last 24 hours I learned that two students are being tested for COVID-19 at the high school where my girlfriend is a teacher.
Then, my mom called last night to tell me that she was furloughed from her job in a small, rural Montana town. My mom has worked at the business for 28 years, and her partner for nearly 15. I would have been less shocked if she had called to tell me she had COVID-19. I always thought if we’d have a phone call with one of us detailing the news of a furlough or layoff, our roles would be reversed. Now, I can only sit here and wonder how she is feeling and what she is thinking – helpless to offer much other than empty platitudes and moral support.
That’s the thing about this year, I never know what the next phone call, text message, or email is going to bring. Within the span of two weeks in March, the staff of the Reno Phil had to cancel its first concert in recent memory, transition to a remote work environment, and I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. My head was swirling, and I wanted to call a Zack Morris time-out on the world to catch my bearings, but I long ago learned that life does not stop for anyone.
At that time in mid-March I knew things would be different. I like to think I was more realistic about the path this year would take than most people, but I even underestimated what to expect. Do you know that Kobe Bryant died earlier this year? Doesn’t that feel like it was at least a year ago, if not longer? It’s been that type of year – one that I now measure in minutes as gauging it by days, weeks, or months feels futile.
At this point dear reader (all apologies to Stephen King for stealing this trope), you might be wondering if this will be mostly negative and scattered. Yes to the latter, but no to the former. Despite all the challenges, heartache, fear, and anger this year has brought – it’s also had moments of true beauty and perseverance that fill me with inspiration and remind me why this crazy journey of life is well worth the ride.
A quick aside. I wanted to spend much of this time reflecting on the social unrest from this year and the long overdue justice that many in this country are rightfully requesting. I’m afraid though that the words are not coming to me at this time. Maybe a couple months ago I would have had them, or if you came back to me in a few weeks, but right now I’m at a loss. I could try and work through it, but I would do a disservice to the powerful work already being accomplished by so many on a variety of fronts this year. I’ll just say that I’m continually inspired to learn more and be better by the number of passionate people out there fighting for real change in the face of great odds and resistance.
So I’m going to focus on another bright spot of inspiration and that is the work of my colleagues at the Reno Phil. As a staff, I am continually amazed and humbled by the resilience, creativity, and flexibility of my co-workers. Each member of our staff has had to learn an ever-growing list of new skills. We had to. When your operating model consists of live concerts with over 60 musicians and thousands of attendees, then you’re in for a long road of challenges when a virus hits that keeps gatherings to less than 50.
As the Director of Development, I spend most of my work hours on the telephone touching base with donors, foundations, and business partners. As a 40-year-old still living with Follicular Lymphoma and now Type 2 Diabetes, the days of meeting for long lunches and hosting social gatherings for 50-100 donors are on hold. Although it’s not the same, the connection is still there. I’ve had more meaningful conversations with our supporters over the last nine months than I could have ever imagined. Most are looking for any social interaction they can find, myself included.
The first couple months were the hardest. We had to cancel our March concert one week before it happened, and the logistics of communicating with over 2,000 ticket holders when the staff is separated and all working from home is daunting. It didn’t stop there. The Reno Phil postponed two concerts from the spring and cancelled a slew of performances during the summer. Every couple days brought a new round of discussions as the next concert neared and the reality of the pandemic took hold.
Spread Joy campaign. Photos courtesy of Michael Hicks.
While concert stages sat empty and silence engulfed our community, we made the decision to forge ahead and find new ways to bring music to the people. We ran a Spread Joy campaign in the spring that featured Reno Phil musicians recording videos of themselves playing pieces of music that brought them joy. It culminated in June with a recording of over 80 musicians and chorus members performing the Nevada state song, Home Means Nevada.
Then, when the weather warmed up we had our musicians hit the streets of northern Nevada. Each Saturday night in the summer, small ensembles would pop up and play short surprise concerts in parks, plazas, driveways, and more. It was one of the bright spots of the years – seeing the reaction of the unsuspecting public when a string duo would begin playing or our percussionists started banging on buckets.
Now, as autumn settles in and hints of winter knock on the door, the Reno Phil is back in a sort of hybrid place that is combining both the old concert model and new way of doing things. We made the investment in the summer to install a state-of-the-art camera system into the Pioneer Center for the Performing Arts. The decision was not made lightly. We understood that our 2020-2021 year would not be able to feature full concert halls, but that we still wanted to make music and share it with the world.
This is where I’m proudest of the staff. Virtual concerts – a concept that was not even a blip on our radar six months ago – is now a reality. The amount of new technology we needed to learn in a short time, both in the recording of a concert and getting it pushed out to thousands, was massive. The dedication and coordination it takes to make a concert happen is multiplied when conversations and meetings are done virtually and you can’t have everyone in the same room at one time.
Out of the Silence. Photo/David Calvert.
We presented our first Classix performance of the year on October 3 and 4 from the Pioneer Center. Audiences watched from the comfort of their homes as Maestro Laura Jackson, pianist Jim Winn, and a number of string players took to the stage and performed works from William Grant Still, Benjamin Britten, and Mozart.
I have to admit I was dubious at first. Don’t get me wrong, I knew we made the right decision back in the spring when we became one of the first orchestras in the nation to call off our planned 2020-2021 season. We postponed it to 2021-2022 and now are programming and planning concerts out two months at a time to have more flexibility and adjust to ever-changing trends.
My hesitation came merely from the fact that I wasn’t sure how good the virtual product would be. I was envisioning other online footage I had seen with one static wide shot of an orchestra. It was that same view you’d get if sitting in the middle of the balcony. It felt old and stale – a remnant of that long ago time I call February 2020. With the technology at our disposal, I was hoping we could do more, and boy was I pleased with the final results.
Maestro Laura Jackson. Photo/David Calvert.
We are now able to offer an intimate concert experience and a way for people to watch Laura Jackson and the orchestra from a whole new perspective. Audiences can now see Laura’s expressions and gestures, in addition to close-ups on the faces and hands of musicians.
It’s the wave of the future that now has to be the reality of the present. As COVID-19 cases reached their highest one day total in Washoe County two days ago, I realize that we still might be at least a year away from a time when every seat in the Pioneer Center is filled and the stage is overflowing with musicians. Technology – often regarded as an encroaching evil by the performing arts world – is now a saving grace and a way to stay engaged with our community and offer the world the inspiration and beauty of live music.
I cannot predict the rest of the season. To be honest, I cannot predict what the rest of my Saturday might bring. I do know that I’m not afraid to face it because of those around me. There will be frustrations, road blocks, and moments that continue to gray my hair. Yet, I’m excited and ready to embrace each challenge because I know I will not face it alone. When you have colleagues like I do, the odds always seem in your favor.
Photo/Michael Hicks.
Michael Hicks is the Director of Development for the Reno Phil, where he raises money for the symphony orchestra and its education programs. Michael has been with the Reno Phil since 2012, starting as the Box Office Manager before moving into the development role in 2019. He is a member of the Planned Giving Round Table of northern Nevada and Association of Fundraising Professionals-Sierra Nevada Chapter – for which he’ll be a board member in 2021. He’s lived in northern Nevada since 2008 with his life partner and friend of 20 years, Erin. Michael was born and raised in Montana and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from Montana State University, Bozeman. He worked as a reporter for four small weekly newspapers after college in rural Montana. In addition to his love of music, he’s a self-proclaimed film nerd that spends much of his free time watching movies. Some of his favorites include The Third Man, Seven Samurai, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Dazed & Confused, and Do the Right Thing. He’s also an avid basketball fan and loves getaways to the mountains and northern California coast.
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