My first week in el Sistema

My first week in el Sistema…

It’s hard to reflect on my week here in Caracas.  It seems as if everything I’ve seen, heard, and felt is still not yet real.  My inner dialogue still spins with questions such as; did that class of 40 violin students actually just sit quietly for 20 minutes while the teacher explained curriculum to us?  Is that girl really practicing her flute fingerings every time another section rehearses?  Do I really not see an empty seat for a classical music concert and almost all attendees under the age of 35? The answer is yes- to all of them.   For me, it’s hard to imagine such a rich, young, and vibrant music culture that everyone wants to be a part of; yet here in Venezuela, it exists. 

Forty minutes and still focused...

            As we visited the núcleos of Montalbán, La Rinconda, and Sarría this week, the high level of student concentration, dedication and respect constantly amazed me.  Yes, the students would give a look to all the visitors but nothing more than an acknowledgement and then straight back to the music.  At the núcleo of La Rinconada, I watched a beginning cello and bass class play the same passage for 40 minutes.  I kept thinking okay when are they going to completely lose it?  It never happened.  I observed that if most students weren’t playing they were practicing or at least following along in the music.  I can’t even think of a time when a teacher repeated which measure he/she was beginning.  So what could hold their attention for so long? I am starting to believe it must be the high frequency of performance.  Students are constantly under pressure to perform and well.  It’s a part of the culture and the students know that they are always performing, even if nobody is the room.  Having the mindset that performance is only on the stage just does not ring true here in Venezuela.  Eventually, many hope to be part of the Simón Bolívar and they know that by acting as a performer even in the classroom they’re more likely to be under the baton of Gustavo Dudamel. 

Percussionists at Sarría practice outdoors!

             I’ve found that often times our life is spent watching out for what’s to come and we often lose the time to enjoy where we are.  Imagine if every day we took that time to perform.  Not our own concerto or aria but a performance for ourselves, recognition of our improvements and a reflection of how far we’ve come.  The ovation isn’t just about the beauty of that performance but more a self-realization of the work you accomplished to create that successful concert.  That’s what I believe is truly so beautiful here in Venezuela.  Every day as the students perform they have the opportunity to realize how far they’ve come, and how far they have to go.  While they watch for what’s to come they are also enjoying that moment of realizing where they are.