An adult making music is like a child at play

(or it should be)

The act of making music brings back an essential experience of childhood — although filtered through greater awareness: play.

When a child plays, they are not simply entertaining themselves: they are building their own world, with internal rules, a particular logic, and also its zones of disorder. In that playful space, nothing external exists; even when others are involved, everyone belongs to the same universe of play. When play is authentic, there is no “outside”: everything happens within that frame.

That small world is complete in itself.

Both in play and in musical practice, three fundamental components can be identified: the one who plays (or performs), the specific game (or the piece), and the means through which that game unfolds.

In the same way as in music, the child projects their inner world into the playful activity. Play functions as a channel of inner expression: to play is a way of speaking to oneself, of externalizing who one is.

There is no purpose that transcends the play itself. Its goals are contained within it.

When play ends, it leaves no material trace. If it was lived with enjoyment, the child will feel somewhat more whole; if not, a little less so. Nothing more than that.

Something similar happens with the musical act. When the concert ends, nothing tangible remains either. The musician has played and has managed — to a greater or lesser extent — to connect with themselves.

A child who plays often comes closer to happiness. And a musician who makes music frequently and genuinely enjoys doing so also moves closer to it.

Does any of this resonate with your own experience?