Cony Lecaros took part in the research project “Reverse Ethnomusicology: Migrant Musicians as Researchers”1. Here, she shares her experiences as a migrant musician and impressions of her work as a musician-researcher.
During my first few years in Vienna, I often awoke with my body drained of energy, physically unable to get up. Part of me feared that this overwhelming discouragement would never fade, and I grew frustrated, questioning whether I would ever again find joy in making music. I had not expected the experience to be so challenging: adapting to a new culture, language, and social environment brought more darkness than light. At times, I wondered whether I should abandon music altogether. Only with support from friends and family as well as professional psychological help was I able to overcome the obstacles of my initial years in Austria.
This struggle led me to question whether other migrant students, particularly Latin American musicians, had similar experiences. Though each journey is unique, the process of adaptation is rarely easy. It was just as these questions arose that I discovered and subsequently joined the research project “Reverse Ethnomusicology: Migrant Musicians as Researchers”. Together with five other migrant musicians, I received training geared toward developing a research project of one’s own. My question was ultimately formulated as follows: How does migration affect the well-being of Latin American musicians in Austria?
Guided by the project’s team of ethnomusicologists, I conducted interviews with six Latin American musicians of different genders and nationalities as well as diverse social and instrumental backgrounds. Their stories confirmed what I had suspected: our experiences featured common struggles, highlighting issues deserving of academic and institutional recognition. The following are some key insights.
Many of us came to Vienna not only for the refinement of our musical skills but also for its renowned quality of life. However, the first major challenges we faced were language and mentality. Even for those who had learned German beforehand, dialects and bureaucratic terminology made integration difficult. Administrative hurdles—visa applications, university enrollment, health insurance—felt insurmountable at times. I strongly believe, however, that these barriers could be alleviated with more empathy and communal support within institutions and society at large.
Beyond language and bureaucracy, academic challenges arose for most of the interviewed musicians. Socioeconomic differences came into stark relief: access to quality instruments requires significant financial resources, and balancing often precarious work with one’s studies is demanding—especially without state subsidies (Studienbeihilfe). As one interviewee put it: “For us, the effort is triple what it is for an Austrian. We literally have to sacrifice sleep to be able to catch up with our studies.” What’s more, even the way we’d previously been taught to study and perform was different. Professors often overlook these realities—”assuming you’re not making enough of an effort”, as one interviewee put it. They hence unintentionally add to students’ disconnect and frustration.
Despite such struggles, Austria offers immense artistic opportunities: “You can hear the Philharmonic practically every week.” The sheer volume of cultural events is inspiring and provides an unparalleled environment for musicians. “Here, people are used to paying to attend a concert and be entertained, which isn’t all that common in Latin America.”
Once language barriers have been overcome, yet another challenge emerges: competition and the relentless pursuit of excellence in Vienna’s music education system. In my opinion, music should not be a vehicle for elitism or rivalry. The emphasis on individual success over collective growth can result in stress, particularly for those from cultures where music is predominantly a communal experience. In Latin America, music often serves as a social glue that brings people together instead of driving them apart. My research shows that the contrast with Vienna’s university environment—where individualism prevails—can be jarring, making adaptation even harder for migrant students.
Conducting this research has been deeply personal. It confirmed my hypothesis that language and academic struggles unite many Latin American musicians in Vienna. “Daring to ask for help from locals and to consider psychological support when it gets rough” was key for some interviewees. Challenges will always exist, but I strongly believe that they can be eased by fostering a sense of community. The call to action is simple: EMPATHY. We never know the burdens that others carry, so we must ask questions and show understanding. If we aim for excellence in our craft, then let us also strive for excellence in social connection—ensuring that future generations of musicians find not just professional growth but a true sense of belonging.
