My husband and I are musicians. I play violin and he plays viola. He plays with the national orchestra, while I play freelance. Since quarantine began, we’d occasionally have time to record videos of us playing together. Truthfully, with a young child to take care of, scheduling such projects is no easy feat. But for our wedding anniversary this year, we made the effort to record in the wee hours. I wanted to be able to celebrate by making a video of us playing his song for me, “Lakambini” by Ebe Dancel.
Recording together was challenging, because we only have one decent recording device at home. We considered recording separately, but I knew that we had to play it together or it would not be as meaningful. This meant that our sound would bleed into each track, and thus, the imperfections in our playing could not be edited out easily. The final mix was not perfect, but we ended up loving it. The imperfections made the rendition sound authentic and sincere. Each scratch of the bow, each slight quiver in tone, expressed the fragility of two people constantly learning how to love. And with every imperfection, we rebounded, found ourselves in better sync and harmony. Enduring, much like our relationship.
I realized through our project that marriage is a lot like making music together. It’s a constant learning process of listening, adjusting, expressing, and responding. If you’re playing and recording alone, it’s easier to correct your mistakes, but it’s not as fulfilling as playing with someone else. When playing together, you need to be dynamic, attentive, and forgiving. And your efforts will be rewarded, not with perfection, but with synergistic beauty.