Here’s what I’ve learned after connecting with strangers across the globe.
Socrates famously said “Know thyself.” And you’d think that having performed concerts since the age of 7, all while experiencing everything from wars to the trials of immigration along the way, I would already know myself and my limits quite well. If, before 2020, someone had asked me to create and perform my own livestream concerts for thousands of viewers from my home, I probably would’ve had a panic attack. And yet, here we are.
At around 8pm EST on almost every Friday night since March 20, 2020, I’ve done just that — sitting down at my old 1925 Boston Chickering piano, pressing “Start Live Video” on my Facebook page, and playing my heart out for the digital universe. On average, I play for about 2,000 viewers a week but I’ve played for as many as 10,000.
I’m from Yerevan, Armenia originally, and emigrated to Los Angeles back in 1998. And though I started playing the piano at a very young age, I only truly “woke up” to its magic around age 13, as I prepared for my first-ever performance with an orchestra, where I played the Piano Concerto no.1 by Beethoven.
For close to 20 years now, I’ve been based in NYC. In 2019, I had the year of my career dreams: my second commercial CD was released to wonderful reviews, and I performed in Europe and all across the U.S., including two sold-out solo recitals in Carnegie Hall. Then 2020 hit like a freight train. That very first week — the eerie quiet of the city — was hard to bear, so I did something I would never have thought I was capable of doing. As I was practicing, I felt a powerful nudge from within which made me post a question on social media: Would anyone be interested in watching me perform a short “mini concert” on Friday night? I was overwhelmed by an enthusiastic response from across the globe.
And so off I went that first Friday night: doing my hair and makeup, putting on a sparkly concert outfit, and playing my heart out. I figured maybe 3-4 people would tune in. But to my shock, the little number at the top of the screen was close to 100 that first night, and I got comments thanking me for helping take people’s minds off of their own lockdown blues. I told myself I’d keep going for as long as it felt right.
Prepping alone for my mini shows is a feeling that even I, as a professional concert pianist, had never experienced before 2020. I have no backstage staff, no magically handy sound/tech/lighting personnel to make everything sound and look good, and toughest of all, no audience in front of me giving feedback.
All this means that at 7:50pm every Friday, with 10 minutes to go before showtime, I’m scrambling to make last-minute tweaks to my hair and outfit, all the while double-checking that my old iPhoneX is secured on its tripod. Hopefully it won’t crash onto the floor like it did that one time, right as I was in the middle of a sweet, slow movement. I’m reminding myself to activate that pesky “mirror” feature, so all of my dear fellow piano nerds won’t come after me in the comments, asking “Why is your right hand playing that melody, when it should be the left?” Finally, after typing up the program and a few words of acknowledgements for my Patreon members, at about 8PM or so, it’s showtime.
“If I’m able to bring small sparkles of joy and inspiration into this world, then all the mad rushes are worth it.”
These 10 minutes of prep are absolutely the craziest ones I have all week, since I’m doing the “busy work” of about 10 different people — work for which I’ve never had any training. Yet what helps it all make sense is my “Big Why” — my lifelong, deep belief in Beethoven’s quote, “Music can change the world.” I believe this today more than ever, and ultimately the only thing that truly matters to me is bringing the enormous joy and rejuvenating energy of music to people, whether they’re in a concert hall or sitting in front of a computer desktop.
And so, every Friday, I focus on the joy of that real-time connection with listeners from across the world, coming together each week to bond over great music, watching alongside relatives stuck on different continents, even meeting strangers who become friends. One viewer had heard me perform Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition” in Italy years earlier, and was now ill. His friend asked if I could play the Mussorgsky piece as a special note of encouragement. I played it, then asked the viewers to put their prayers and good wishes in the comments, and within seconds, there was an outpouring of love for this man on the other side of the world from me. It was a truly incredible moment.
If I’m able to bring small sparkles of joy and inspiration into this world, then all the mad rushes at 7:50pm on Fridays are worth it.
For the past 99 Fridays, I’ve worked hard to prepare a unique short mini concert. And as incredibly trying and difficult the past 2 years have been, I feel such gratitude for the beautiful music that I experienced with my listeners, the tens of thousands of views, the comments, and the love and support that poured toward me from people I’d never even met.
This coming Friday, March 25, I’ll play my 100th and final Facebook Live mini concert. Frankly, the word “bittersweet” doesn’t come close to describing my emotions as this chapter comes to a close. In the absence of something more complex, I’ll simply say this: I pray and hope the world will find its way back to peace and wellness, when I can have the honor of playing for you all in person in a concert hall near you. Until then, I hope to see you at the grand finale this Friday.
Award-winning Armenian-American pianist Kariné Poghosyan has performed two sold-out recitals at Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall and has hosted a weekly livestream mini concert series on her Facebook page since the first week of Covid lockdown.
