[gamin’s musical Odyssey] Episode 3. From Silence to Song: My Pandemic Journey

(Script)
As a full-time performing artist living in New York City, the pandemic was cruel. It wasn’t just about canceled shows or closed venues-it was about losing the heart and soul of what we do: connecting with audiences. But out of those challenges came moments of unexpected beauty and resilience. Today, I want to share a unique and unforgettable experience I had during that time. New York City during the pandemic was unrecognizable-its bustling streets fell silent, its cultural hubs went dark.
At the beginning of 2020, I was filled with excitement. My Carnegie Hall debut concert was scheduled for March 21, in collaboration with a Korean orchestra, hosted by the Robert Browning Associates in partnership with Carnegie Hall Presents. It was such an honorable opportunity as a soloist, and I’ll never forget the joy of seeing the publicity materials and receiving heartfelt congratulations from friends and colleagues even before the year began. Everything was ready-the orchestra had secured visas, flights were booked, and I was in full preparation mode. Even though we knew COVID-19 was spreading in Asia, we believed, 'The show must go on.'
But as March approached, everything started to change. Early that month, I performed in an improvised ensemble at Roulette in Brooklyn, led by the incredible Adam Rudolph, alongside some of my favorite musicians like Kaoru Watanabe and Sumie Kaneko. It was a beautiful moment of creativity, but little did we know it would be one of the last live performances for a long time. Shortly after, New York declared a state of emergency, shutting down all businesses, including concert halls. I vividly remember the day we were rehearsing for another concert with String Noise, Pauline, Conrad and composer Kiyoung. We heard the news, and it felt like the world had stopped. Streets emptied, subways grew quiet, and the city went dark. The silence was haunting, and the daily news brought terrible updates.
I stayed in New York, stuck at home, with no trips for over two years. As someone who traveled frequently for concerts, the stillness was unbearable. Spring 2020 was particularly depressing. My weekly escape was a walk in Central Park, just to feel some sense of normalcy.
The uncertainty was overwhelming. As an immigrant artist, I faced not only career challenges but also questions about visa status and eligibility for government assistance. Many artists I knew decided to return to their home countries to be closer to family and find stability. I felt unsure of what to do, hoping this would all end soon.
Middle of darkness, I found new ways to adapt. I started baking and cooking, something I’d never really done before. I also began creating music at home, recording myself, and even playing outdoors in small, socially distanced settings. I’ll never forget how New York City transformed. The vibrant streets I loved became eerily silent. As musicians, we grieved deeply during this time. We cried for justice, for those we lost, for the inability to share our music, for hope, and for our family and friends who suffered.
One of the most profound moments during the pandemic was the Black Lives Matter movement. It was a historical event that shook the nation and impacted all of our lives. I remember watching the protests unfold, feeling deeply moved and compelled to contribute in my own way.
Instead of marching in the protests, I turned to music as my voice. I recorded music from my heart, channeling my desire for justice and unity into something meaningful. It reminded me of why I became a musician in the first place-to create something that can inspire, heal, and bring light to the world. This idea became a guiding light for me during those dark times. It’s a reminder that even in the midst of uncertainty and grief, we have the power to create something that matters.
During pandemic, I lost all my gigs, my main source of income, and, for a while, my sense of purpose. The silence that replaced the music felt overwhelming. But there were small lights that kept me going, and one of those lights was the Max Kansas City Project. Then, something wonderful happened. I got a call from a colleague, letting me know I had been selected as a resident artist at HERE Arts Center. I screamed with joy! It was a lifeline during a time of despair.
Link: gamin’s music
album: Impermanance
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adamrudolph.ba...
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-Background Music [album: Attraction 가민의 매혹적인 마술피리]
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www.gugakcd.kr/...
gamin's Podcast (Korean)
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