For almost six years, my trio has held a residency at an underground Manhattan club, performing twice monthly for enthusiastic locals and curious travelers alike.

When we played on an early-March Wednesday—running through McCoy Tyner’s “Passion Dance” in memory of the fallen giant; Nine Inch Nails’ “Head Like a Hole” with its wonderful angularity and inspiring defiance; our otherwise usual mix of dirty funk, modal jams, and intertwined romantic harmonies—news of the virus was getting loud, fast. I avoided shaking hands and leaned into the piano as though it would be my band’s last gig for a very long time.

It turns out I was right.

Starting the next day, cancellations due to Coronavirus slapped every musician I knew; bookings, often representing months, years, or even decades of work, turned to mist. Not long after, our residency also received an indefinite fermata. And similar variations have reverberated around the world for musicians who populated an economy of gigs long before “gig economy” became a cultural catchphrase.

On the arts blog, musician Michael Gallant writes about weathering the pandemic, personally and creatively.