When you first start learning music, teachers promise that if you have a dream and work hard, you can become a musician. But for many people with temporary and permanent disabilities, other health conditions, and neurodiversity, having a dream and working hard might not be enough to get them there.
"Although now the Arts industry has high levels of awareness and knowledge around the importance of access for audiences, there is still a great deal of work to be done to support artists and arts workers with disability," CEO of Arts Access Australia Matthew Hall says. The claim is backed by a 2022 Music Industry report Raising Their Voices, which highlights the prevalence of insecure work for musicians in Australia, especially when there are intersecting factors such as background, gender and disability.
Raising Their Voices claims "On average, arts workers with disability make less than half what their colleagues without disability do and are more likely to experience unemployment." The report claims although 7% of musicians in Australia identify as having a disability, there is little research regarding their experiences.
In Australia, there is no consistent system in place to support musicians with disability, or people who acquire life-changing illnesses throughout their lives. Instead, they must rely on the lottery of support of family, friends and colleagues during tough times.
These are some of the stories of aspiring musicians, people who work in the music industry and those who have left. They are sharing these stories in the hope that music can become a universal right for everyone.
An unexpected turn
"When I started primary school and there was an opportunity to take up a musical instrument, my parents picked the cello for me because essentially the sound range is closest to the human voice. They saw it as an opportunity to broaden my hearing experience and expose me to more sounds," Mack said .
Mack continued to play the cello until high school, developing a near-perfect pitch memory for the range of notes of his instrument. Although he had been studying tertiary level mathematics on his final school year, Mack chose to study music at university.
"At the time I didn't really see any other hard-of-hearing musicians so I was curious to explore that space and see what I could make of it."
Mack completed a Bachelor of Music from Melbourne University in 2010. He then went on to study science and acquired several qualifications in mathematics.
In his final year of studying Bachelor of Music, Mack experienced deep depression. He came to realise that as someone who is hard of hearing, he had to work harder just to be on the same level as his university peers. Although he completed his degree, Mack stopped playing his cello.
"Reflecting on it now, it was the lack of representation that contributed to my depression. There was no one I could reach out to on say 'hey, can we sit down and talk about the details – what can you, or what can't you hear? What kind of audiology tests can be run? Is there any audiologist specialising in music that might know the nuances to determine whether there was any adjustment I could make?'"
Mack says there is no networking group for musicians with hearing loss in Australia, and finding other musicians with the same experiences has been challenging. Of the handful of hard-of-hearing musicians he encountered, he found they were reluctant to discuss this aspect of their lives, which could have helped aspiring musicians with disability to develop their own performance strategies.
Mack has recently taken up his cello again. "I found a secure, full time job last year and set up my own place, which has allowed me to explore my hobbies. It's good to know I still have a creative side."
Mack's favourite pieces for the cello include the first movement of Shostakovich Cello sonata in D minor which reflects his sombre personality and Bach Cello Suite in D Major which embodies an optimism he aspires to.
Paving the way for herself and others
"It just so happened that because I was finally living on my own, I had the ability to … figure out more about myself," Mackson said during a previous interview with the ABC.
Mackson says that while her neurodiversity sometimes makes her doubt whether she could pursue a career in classical music, she also has a unique perspective which she values and could share to make the world of classical music a more inclusive place.
During a follow-up interview with ABC Classic, Mackson shares after speaking about her own experiences, she has been contacted by other musicians with neurodiversity, or family members who want to support someone who is neurodiverse to learn music. Mackson is not aware of any mentorship programs or other pathways for neurodiverse musicians, however she feels more encouraged to apply to grants and opportunities when they make it clear they welcome diversity in their application call out.
Mackson is still exploring her musical strengths through the opportunities her university course opens up for her. "I like playing as a solo violist, but I also like to be part of a large group," she says.
Mackson does find that playing as part of a chamber ensemble or an orchestra quite difficult because often it depends on the person who is running the group. However, she is quite open to exploring groups with the right support. "I'm part of this ensemble called Sketch at my university, led by composer Rob Davidson. It's really fun as we get to play each other's compositions including mine. Rob has been encouraging me to use my neurodiversity as an asset in my composition as it's an experience that's not often talked about in the musical sense."
Mackson also hopes to increase the research evidence for neurodiverse musicians. "I've learnt so much more about practising since speaking to the ABC in March," in which Mackson shared some of her strategies such as having a well-structured plan, putting on background noise or practising with other people in the room. "I've had so many resources and I'm preparing for a research thesis focusing on my own practice routine."
Mackson revels in the strengths of Australian classical music, especially by women. "I like listening to Ella Macens The Space Between Stars, which I love so much and Katie Yap performing Emily Sheppard's Aftermath for viola and voice."
Finding a highly specialised niche
In 2014, while living as a busy performer and teacher, Christensen started to experience back pains which continued even after she stopped working for a month, going to physio and seeking other therapies. Two years later she was diagnosed with spondylolisthesis, a spinal condition which causes pain on her lower back and leg.
"Depending on how far it progresses, spondylolisthesis can cause displacement of the vertebrae from the spine and in my case, for example, I have chronic nerve pain which affects my posture," Christensen explains.
Christensen underwent three major surgeries through the public hospital system in 2017.
"My main supports were my family who I'm tremendously grateful to and a few select close friends. I also received great supports from a pain clinic in Sydney and rehab programs such as the use of a heated pool." During this time, she did not receive additional support from the various institutions and workplaces which meant she was unable to keep her jobs.
Although the spinal fusion surgery healed the leg nerve pain, there wasn't much to be done about Christensen's lower back, which directly affects how she plays. She explains, "Normally, when you play the cello, the weight of it rests against your upper body which presses your lower back." The ongoing back pains also affects every part of her daily life.
Christensen gave her last public performance as a cellist in 2020. "Even though I enjoy playing for people, I find getting to the venues takes a lot of energy. I can't practice for more than 30 minutes without experiencing pain, which makes me feel I'm not up to scratch, or able to perform at a level that I feel happy about in front of people." Christensen says these limitations have also affected her mental health. However, she is proud to still be part of the music world.
Christensen carries her immense knowledge and experience to her current work as a Braille music transcriber. "I've known really amazing blind musicians in my life who uses Braille music, so the code has always intrigued me. Transcribing music from print to braille makes me think differently. Some things like music theory, which as a sighted musician I find quite easy to do requires a different approach because of the unique Braille music format."
Christensen does not identify as a person with disability, but her health condition means she has to manage her expectations on a daily basis. From her home, she transcribes Braille music for students who are studying music at university, performers, conductors and people who want to learn music recreationally. She also teaches the code to private students and is considered one of the leading experts in the field.
Playing and writing music is also part of Christensen's own practice. "I've started a project where I'm recording layered cello pieces at home. I'd get up early in the morning, and create a one or two minute piece by improvising on my cello and recording a track, then write my idea. It doesn't require a long sit and I can delete the recording if I don't get the result I'm happy with and try again the next day." Her work Above And Below showcases the light and dark on life's journey.
After the recovery
It took a few weeks for Harrold to find out this wasn't an ordinary swelling but a manifestation of Ankylosing Spondylitis (AS), an auto-immune condition where the body attacks its own connective tissue. Later, the AS also affected his other hand.
Harrold chronicles his diagnosis, treatment and progress in a blog which lays bare the physical and mental tolls of ill health even for an established musician.
"As a freelancer, I rely on having good connections with institutions such as ANAM and the MSO to provide contractual work. So when something like this happens, I am very aware I was at the mercy of these institutions doing the right thing, which fortunately for me, they did."
Harrold adds "As a freelance musicians, there's no legal rights to worker's compensation or to access sick leave because most of the times I haven't accrued any. And even though I have these great relationships, there's still that terror of what might happen if I say no."
Harrold's experience occurs in the context of pandemic lockdowns and expanded public health measures with its accompanying financial supports. "Out of all the institutions I was connected with, ANAM was absolutely the best in terms of setting up the right supports for me which includes adapting my work expectations and creating new opportunities by funnelling me to other aspects of the institution. And I didn't have to suffer financially while I was dealing with the AS."
Harrold says in his blog how he has to adjust his expectations from being mostly a performer to working in a hybrid environment of playing, writing and other administrative tasks.
He acknowledges the work of the medical team around him as well as his colleagues in the music world who have supported him over the last 18 months. "I'm probably getting up to 85% of what I can do before the AS got into my hands," he says .
Setting up networks of supports
Harrold is relieved that for now, he can go on to work as a performer. However his experience with AS has highlighted the importance of having the right support network for musicians.
Harrold hopes to advocate for the music industry to create a network to support musicians to recover from playing related injuries, or to transition to other professions. "These kinds of support networks exist in other industries like sports," he says in reference to initiatives such as Sports Australia's Intensive Rehabilitation program which help Australian athletes return to performance through the delivery of intensive, integrated, complex rehabilitation solutions.
"I'm optimistic that the music industry will get on board – we're about a generation behind in those things."
"But we've made progress especially in tertiary institutions to realise the importance of wellness, performance anxiety and the psychology of what it meant to get on stage."
Christensen says to other musicians, "It may be costly, but insuring yourself for any sort of medical crisis such as this that impacts your ability to work as a musician is recommendable. I think if I had either or perhaps had both private health insurance and a coverage for injury impacting work I would have fared better on the financial front." She echoes Harrold in saying that navigating injuries and medical health issues is "an area that certainly deserves attention to prevent pitfalls; to truly show the importance of this is a challenge when speaking to fresh inspired 20-year-olds embarking on their dream career!"
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