Coro Manos Blancas

While in Venezuela, I got to spend the majority of my time with the Special Education program in Barquisimeto.  I have been inspired so much over the years by the Manos Blancas Choir and am excited about bringing back these ideas to the United States.  Stay tuned as more unfolds but for now I just wanted to give you a glimpse.  Please enjoy this video that unfolds more of the philosophy and commitment behind this truly amazing program!!

Changing Seats; Perspective and Humility

Changing Seats; Perspective and Humility

             “Student ticket for one please,” I asked.

 “Well you are in luck, we just received a complimentary ticket that you may have for free!” said the ticket saleswoman.  Shocked I said thank you and quickly made my way to the hall.  Every usher I passed kept pointing ahead until I realized I was in the very last row of the balcony, also known as the nosebleed section.  I have to admit working for a symphony I got spoiled with grand tier seats every performance.   In fact, the last time I recall being in the nosebleed section was for a Dave Matthews concert- quite a different atmosphere.

            As the lights dimmed, I ended my private conversation and got in “concert mode”- you know, not talking and sitting still.  However, I noticed I seemed to be the only one on autopilot.  Amongst me the chatter persisted with anticipation and excitement.  The music began yet the hushed conversations continued…for the whole concert!  At times, there were even children and young adults (!) conducting or playing drums along with the orchestra.  I was stunned.   Surrounding me were ticket goers who didn’t subscribe to the symphony and yet they were engaged.  For myself, I had a much more enjoyable experience being surrounded by people who were excited to be at the symphony simply because of the music.  I didn’t feel stifled by the typical museum culture of a classical concert and instead became enlivened.  As I drove home and reflected upon my experience, I began to ask myself how?  I confess that I used to be bothered by clapping and talking between movements or before the conductor dropped his hands, so how had my perspective changed? How was this experience so different?

            Simple-Venezuela.  My time there surrounded by humble musicians only broadened my perception of a musical performance.  Clapping is encouragement, joy, and pride so why wouldn’t we clap after a thrilling movement?  Musical experiences are different for everyone, so let’s encourage the difference not only in the orchestra but also in the audience.  If we want to break this third wall then we have to be willing to see what’s on the other side.  We have to be humble because with humility comes the chance to see and experience something new. 

            While in Venezuela, my perspective of what a musical experience should be changed.  For the first time, I saw musicians of all different ages and abilities see each other as friends and support one another through the act of music making.  My experience sitting in the balcony parallels this same notion of support.  Although it may be atypical of correct symphony etiquette the excitement is not to be ignored.  We can all learn from one another and everyone has something great to offer.  If we want to engage a wider musical audience then we have to humble and listen.  After all, life itself is just a lesson in humility.  

On Monday, March 18, our last day in Venezuela, we had the honor and privilege of meeting Maestro José Antonio Abreu.  Just moments after returning back to our hotel, my roommate, Andrea, and I tried to capture in a few words just how special that moment was for us.  

Braille

          My week with Braille

          Normally if someone were to ask me “What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done?” I’d probably say learning a language, completing a triathlon, or performing difficult repertoire.  Now I have a new one to add to the list, Braille.  This past week, I spent my mornings in Barquisimeto learning how to read and write Braille, the alphabet, numbers, and musical notation.  My most successful sentence thus far was THIS IS HARD. 

Some of my Braille work

            When writing Braille, you actually move from right to left; however, you read from left to write.  It’s fascinatingly difficult yet I really enjoyed it!  The students would check my work usually followed by a laugh and the very occasional- good job.  Every day I’d arrive at the núcleo and the teachers would ask, “So what did you learn last night?”  After showing them my work, I’d go back downstairs and begin again.  The more comfortable I became with the Braille (and I still have a long ways to go) the more I began to think about capability.  Just how much can we accomplish when we realize what were truly capable of?  Being in the special needs program these past weeks; I began to see how every single child is encouraged to reach his or her potential.  Most students not only sing but they play, compose, and arrange.  There are no limitations.  Almost every student is involved in several ensembles even down to the teachers.  Everyone is always learning.  I had the chance to talk with one of the students in the Manos Blancas choir after a rehearsal on Thursday.  That past week, I’d not only seen him sing, but also accompany and improvise on piano with the rhythm band.   As I began to talk with him, he said, “Oh I’m not a pianist.”  I laughed and responded, “But you play in two ensembles?”  He smiled and answered, “well yes but I’m a composer first.”  Let me also just add, he was one of my mentors in learning Braille as he is blind as well.  The students are unstoppable.  In fact I don’t even know if the words, no you can’t or we’ll get to that repertoire later even exist.      

            It was a pattern that I began to see every day in the núcelo.  Students writing musical compositions in one night, learning Mahler 1, first movement in a day, and being proficient at least three instruments.  It’s inspiring.  As I continue my Braille studies back in the United States, I’m going to think of my mentors here in Venezuela.  Because they showed me that limitation truly only exist in our minds and once we let go of doubt, we truly find our capability.  Yet also for reminding me that this is truly on the beginning.  

Bring on the Tears

Bring on the tears…

Normally I try to hold back the tears in a work environment, but this week has brought out a different side of me.  Every day, I’ve cried.  Not a weepy cry but more glistening tears of pure joy and amazement.  This week, I’m spending all of my time in Barquisimeto in the special education program.  As many of you know, this is my huge interest in the field of El Sistema and what I hope to bring back to the United States. 

            So far, I’ve taken a class in sign language and musical Braille, observed a percussion ensemble for children with Down Syndrome, participated in rhythm band; which includes a large percentage of students with special needs, listened to a choir, and that’s just in about two afternoons.  Needless to say, this place is brimming with excitement and activity.  Barquisimeto is actually the central hub for special education in music in all of Venezuela.  It offers many workshops in teacher training, education, and about 10 or more ensembles in which students can participate.  It’s limitless.  There’s no such thing as a disability or a handicap but rather everyone has a different entry point.  It’s amazing to see how a student who is blind directs a choir of forty from behind his accompanist chair or how a child with a severe cognitive disability is playing Chopin beautifully.  The percussion ensemble and rhythm band were probably two of the most musical ensembles I’ve seen in El Sistema.  Resilience and tenacity shine in every child and I was just overcome by the passion, emotion, and energy of the room. For me, that meant tears.  As I told this to my close friend, Bekah, she replied, “Well see then you were meant for this!” And I believe she’s exactly right.  Often when we feel emotionally vulnerable usually that’s when everything falls into place.  So keep bringing on the tears!

The Road to Self-Discovery

The Road to Self-Discovery

            Every child enrolled in El Sistema receives a medallion imprinted with the motto tocar y luchar- to play and to fight.  A concise yet powerful message, this tangible pendant gives a child a dream he/she can physically hold and carry.  As I talked with my roommate, friend and colleague Andrea Landin, she reminded me that sometimes we see the beauty of El Sistema for its intangible items (social change, musical excellence, collective efficacy, etc…) but often a child is just looking for something physical to hold.  There’s power in the physicality.  It’s not something that you feel but it’s something you can touch, hold, and carry and with that comes sentimental attachment.  Paralleling with this idea is the notion of singing versus playing an instrument.  So many students I’ve met enrolled in the choirs are almost always instrumentalists.  Recently El Sistema even changed its name to the National System of Youth and Children’s Orchestras and Choirs of Venezuela “for the purpose of systematizing music education and promoting the collective practice of music through symphony orchestras and chorus as a means of social organization and communitarian development (FESNOJIV website).”

Monique and I with students in a núcleo outside Barquisimeto
(Diana is center)

            The notion of being an instrumentalist and a singer is something I’ve thought about a lot here in Venezuela.   Truthfully, it’s something I envy.  These kids have the opportunity to partake in both and gain different lenses in terms of not only the music but themselves.  As an instrumentalist, there’s an attachment to a physical thing, your instrument.  Your self-awareness stems from how you react to not only yourself but an object.  In return, you’re responsible for yourself and something else.  Singing is very different.  It’s completely done in the body.  You, nothing else, develop the sound, intonation, character, etc…  So how amazing is it that the kids of El Sistema have the capability to bridge the two every day?  By being in choir, you gain the opportunity of self-discovery and awareness so that when you get to orchestra you can apply that to your interaction with your instrument.  That’s not to say that orchestra doesn’t create self-awareness, quite the contrary, but it’s a different modality and approach.  These students are always gathering different tools to make themselves not only better musicians but also citizens.

Goofing around: we loved each other's sunglasses so much we traded!

            As I’ve watched the choirs and orchestras, I am still stunned by the level of commitment and passion.  The notes might not always be there but everyone sings and plays with such fervor and enthusiasm.  It can make even the toughest person tear up.  Here in Barquisimeto, hometown of Gustavo Dudamel, I had the opportunity to talk with a violin student, Diana.  When I asked her why do you come to the nucleo she said, “ Simple- it’s where I get to become a musician”. I thought about that response for a while, unsure if I was satisfied with her answer.  Then I began to dig deeper with her discovering that to her music wasn’t about proficiency on the violin or learning a choral piece but it was about becoming part of a family.  She said, “Sometimes I need my alone time, so I play my violin.  Sometimes I want to make music with others, so we sing.”  For Diana and many other kids in El Sistema, I’ve found that through music they are beginning the journey of true self-discovery and that through the help of others they are beginning to find themselves.   

Students in Barquisimeto rehearsing for an upcoming concert featuring Disney music.  This is the elementary level choir performing "I Just Can't Wait to be King".

*Try and find which one may be my favorite- hint- he/she comes through at the end!

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.

Listening for Something New

Listening for Something New

Last night, we attended Verdi opera scenes at the Center for Social Action.  As I walked in, I began to notice the amount of young adults in the audience.  As a singer and opera fan, I can never remember a time in which I’d sat beside someone my age- even at the Met.  Yet in Caracas, I was not only surrounded by young adults but I watched a young man with a mowhak give a standing ovation after La Traviata, a student independently filming the performance for further operatic studies, and a child sitting silently enthralled by the music.  I have to admit it was hard for me to focus on every performance because I kept finding myself scanning the room.  I was in awe.   What I was seeing is what so many symphonies in the United States dream of. How does this happen?  What is it that Sistema is doing that is attracting copious amounts of young people into its concert halls?  Well one answer could be the free tickets.  Anytime there is a concert at the Center for Social Action, all tickets are given for free and if the concert is anywhere else they come at a heavily discounted price.  Another answer could be…wait for it- it’ll shock you…the students actually like this music!! No way right? Young adults don’t really like opera, at least not this many of them… If you’d asked me years ago which I believed were more likely I would’ve said option 1; however, after being here for only a week I’m positive it’s option 2. 

It’s been said that you see what you look for and you hear what you listen for.  As I continue my travels here in Venezuela, I’m beginning to look and listen for something completely new.  Exactly how do you make classical music relevant to everyone?  It seems that in el Sistema they’ve found the way.  This week I’ll be in Barquisimeto, hometown of Gustavo Dudamel, with my eyes and ears watching and listening to music in a completely new way.  Stay tuned!

The Luthier Workspace

The Luthier Workspace

As many of you know, I am interested in beginning a program for children with special needs in the el Sistema field.  Above is a photo of a workspace at the Funda Procura.  Here students with lower limb paralysis work as luthiers for el Sistema creating beautiful instruments and bows.  I'm still processing the impact of my visit, so please stay tuned as I tease out this experience further down the road.

Venezuelan Maracas

The Venezuelan Maracas

This video is from a folklore class in the núcleo of Montalbán.  Here students learn traditional Venezuelan instruments such as the Venezuelan harp, maracas, and cuatro. It's also important to note that the students playing rotate instruments every song!   

Down to the Doorknobs

Down to the Doorknobs….

Before leaving for Venezuela, we were reminded that this experience is one of the few moments in our lives where we preemptively know that this journey will change us.  Often times, we realize significant moments in retrospect and don’t have the opportunity to prepare.  Yet even after months of preparation and inquiry I was still completely blown away by my initial encounters with el Sistema.  Intention creates reality and here in Venezuela the intention of creating social programs through music is meticulous.  I began to realize this on day one. 

Our first stop was a tour of the Center for Social Action.  This new, gorgeous building in Caracas welcomes 2,000 students A DAY into its orchestras and musical ensembles.  In addition, this building also serves as administrative space, a composition laboratory, rehearsal and performance venues, master class studios, lecture halls, practice rooms, and my favorite word of the tour- multi-purpose rooms.  Except, every room is multi-purpose.  When Dr. Abreu developed plans for this building he wanted every room to be created with the intention of musical functionality.  This meant that the room where we had our business meeting also was made for a chamber ensemble.  As if designing your workspace as a performance hall wasn’t enough, the building also has recording capability in each room.  This amazed me… I remember in college fighting over sound recording space and here it’s in every room.  Next, was something so simple-doorknobs.  Every door has push doorknobs, so that if you have a large instrument or need access to opening doors all you have to do is press.  I kept picturing my brother, a double bassist, being able to more easily grab his stool and bass and just walk out.  No doorknob turning required.  The practice rooms, probably the smallest in the building, were still created with such intention, purpose, and diligence. 

Alignment to purpose and mission was intentional even in the doorknobs.  After all, if el Sistema creates free, musical access programs why wouldn’t every aspect of the building be accessible to everyone? Everything is intentional.  Abreu knew what reality he wanted to create for his students and the communities of Venezuela and he continues to build even down to the doorknobs.  

Photos

View of Caracas from the Center for Social Action 

The performance stage at the Center for Social Action

Student from the nucleo of Montalbán

Cuatro Ensemble- Traditional Venzuelan folk instrument

Journey to Venezuela

My Journey to Venezuela Begins

As I prepare for my journey to Venezuela today, I am struck by excitement, anticipation, joy, and inquiry.  So far, I’ve spent months just thinking about el Sistema- personal questions, philosophies, and just “how does this work?”  I am very fortunate to have the opportunity to go learn, discover, and be immersed in the rich musical culture of el Sistema.  I’ve been delving over personal questions such as; teaching practices, pedagogies, choral excellence, and of course, the amazing programs for children with special needs!  Over the next few weeks, please join me in my journey throughout Venezuela as I begin to witness firsthand this program that has changed thousands of children and families and also the communities and country of Venezuela.  I look forward to sharing this part of my fellowship with you.  Lots more to come from Venezuela!!!  

Performer to Present Day

My journey as a performer to the present day…

            Being a performer was my identity.  In high school and college, I always wore the label of singer.  It was my pass into being accepted in the music world and I cherished that.  Growing up I always heard rumors that to be part of the music world you must perform.  After all, the old saying is if you can’t do-teach.  I believed that for a long time especially since my musical journey did not begin as a “happily ever after “ fairytale.  Instead a discouraging 7^th grade choir teacher would not allow me to audition for a state competition because he believed I would “never make it in the music world.”  Luckily for me, I also had a strong-willed mother and an amazing community choir teacher, Mrs. Claire, who made sure my teacher’s denial didn’t discourage me.  Mrs. Claire pushed me to continue.  I knew that if I wanted to audition next year, I’d have to work for it and I did.  I practiced scales, arpeggios, sight-singing and took theory lessons just to make me a more well-rounded singer.  The next year, I auditioned on my own for the choir and got accepted.  I began to work even harder and in 9^th grade switched teachers, and took private lessons to prepare me for life as an opera singer.

Now auditioning for competitions, summer festivals, and music programs, I found myself relying heavily on my new teacher, Dr. Toppin.  Not only was she my source of knowledge and growth but she also emerged as my encourager and believer.  In her, I found strength, dedication, and tenacity.  And to be clear- it was her hard work and mine that made my successes a reality.  In order for dreams to work, you have to work and I worked harder when I knew someone believed in me.  As soon as I began to succeed in auditions, I realized that a life as a performer is not what I wanted.  I looked up so much to Mrs. Claire and Dr. Toppin for believing in me and encouraging me to pursue music and knew that encouragement is what I wanted to give to others.  As I began my college years, I found my voice teacher, Dr. Pedigo, really empowered me to discover that side of myself.  She encouraged me to explore all areas of my life that interested me and gave me a direction. Soon, that direction led me to Charlotte.

            I moved to Charlotte and began teaching kids through the Charlotte Symphony’s Winterfield program.  It was a part of the week I always looked forward to and I enjoyed the mystery of never knowing what was going to happen; no matter how much I’d planned. I began to realize that although I was the “music teacher,” I felt more like the student.  The young musicians that surrounded me became my sense of inspiration, hope, and commitment.  The hard work and long hours didn’t matter.  Hard work isn’t hard when you work for students who yearn for what you give.  I learned that lesson early on in my performance years.  When you work hard, you know it and even if others don’t notice, the work provides the confidence you need to continue.  That confidence, however, sometimes wavers. That’s happened to me.  Yet waning or flourishing, confidence is all part of the journey.

            Choices mapped my journey.  I wanted my dreams to work, so I worked for them.  I may not be a performer, but I still consider my life a performance.  A performance created through lessons, mentors, teachers, personal choices, and hard work.  Every day, I have the choice to give it my all or throw in the towel.  Music changed my life.   I’m ready to encourage that change or the stage to someone else.                       

Honoring the Silence

Honoring the Silence

Lessons we learn as a child have a funny way of coming back to us.  I was reminded of a childhood lesson the other day while in a session on group dynamics with my fellows.  The day was full, yet at the end, we took a moment to be silent, breathe, and take in the thoughts of the day.  During that time, I began to think about something my father always said.

It began in high school; I always struggled with the “in-class essay.” The thought of reading the essay question, having to quickly decide what I wanted to say, and then eloquently present the ideas AND with legible writing was frustrating.  Often, I would overwrite, my essays becoming a jumbled mess of run-on sentences and incomplete thoughts.  One day, I was complaining to my father, so he stopped me and said, “It’s simple.  All you need to do is say what you to want to say and stop.  Nobody ever wins by saying too much.”  At that moment, my father was referring to my Grapes of Wrath essay; however, years later I still remember those exact words and for different reasons.  The idea of only saying what you wanted to say, then stopping and listening seemed like a much more authentic, humble and respectful approach.

When he first said those words to me, I believed him because that’s exactly the person he is.  I’ve always admired my father because he has an uncanny ability to always honor and embrace silence.  I too observed the power of silence at college orchestra and choral concerts. I found myself most engaged the moment right before the conductor gave the first beat or after the last chord was played.  The stillness created a haze of anticipation between the orchestra, conductor, audience, and me.  Though these moments were rich with energy, nothing was said, only felt.  There is so much power in the nonverbal, the pause, and the rest.  Just like in music, sometimes the unexpected rest says more than the melody.  Allowing oneself to be at peace with life’s pauses is difficult and challenging and requires patience beyond measure.  I used to believe that not speaking meant I had nothing to say; yet as I grow older I am realizing that often times it’s more important to honor the silence and simply listen.   

Encouraging the Heart

            As a child, we are told that it’s okay to be scared.  There are night-lights in our bedrooms, parent’s beds to crawl in after scary dreams, and a Babar (my teddy bear) to hold.  Unfortunately, as we grow older, there are no tricks to help with the scary reality of “real life”.  The first reality test for many is leaving home.  For me, this was at 18 when I left for college.  I craved independence, new challenges, and the thought of no curfew.  Bekah, my roommate/incredible friend, and I used this to our full advantage.  That meant late night doughnut runs, weekends of doing nothing but watching One Tree Hill, and most importantly, taking a road trip to West Virginia to get a chocolate lab/new roommate, Daisy.  Soon all of that ended, and I was tested with the reality of leaving behind school and joining the “working world.”  Scary.  Yet I came to enjoy my new life in Charlotte and absolutely loved my job at the Charlotte Symphony.  I had a fantastic team and amazing kids! They were all hard to say goodbye to when I moved to New England.

Now, in Boston I feel like I’ve been tested in unimaginable ways, not only mentally and intellectually, but also spiritually and personally. The reason I moved to Boston, my passion to use music as a tool to strengthen communities, is also my struggle.  I say I’ve struggled because often times I am scared by own vision.  I’ve noticed that theoretically I can talk about what I hope to see change, but the actual “doing it” part is far more intimidating.  Recently, when speaking with a Venezuelan administrator he said something very powerful to me, “Just stop worrying. It’ll come.  If it is in your heart, you will find a way.  Just encourage your heart.”  Encourage my heart?  The only person who had every said this to me was Greg Kandel, our Arts Nonprofit professor and arts consultant.  I was stunned by the same message.  Was fear written all over my face? Probably, and yet I’ve decided a little fear isn’t a bad thing.  In my childhood, I had safety, my night-light, parents, and Babar.  As I grew older, I maintained this safety net through amazing, supportive friends, family, colleagues, and also the music.  Sometimes we need our heart to be scared in order to become courageous enough to try.  So stay tuned…. J

A donde el corazón se inclina, el pie camina.

While living in Madrid, I studied art history, visited amazing museums, ate the best tapas, paella, and churros, and attended the most exciting soccer game ever- Real Madrid vs. Germany.  Although my daily schedule varied, I always ended my night by watching soap operas with my host mom before she made nightly calls to her children.  After a week, I noticed she always ended her phone conversation with the phrase “A donde el corazón se inclina, el pie camina.”  In Spanish, this is similar to our saying, “home is where the heart is.”  However, it has a slight difference.  A donde el corazón se inclina-means “where the heart is inclined,” el pie camina-“the foot will follow.”

              During the holiday break, I began to think about this saying more and more.  I had spent the last five months taking classes, traveling, meeting new colleagues, and learning as much as possible about el Sistema.  It seemed as if my passion for the work was growing stronger, yet I still felt a reluctance to let all inhibitions go and just follow my heart, always over thinking everything.  I find reassurance in believing wherever your heart is inclined, your feet will follow and that our paths are simply made by our heart’s intuition and our own hard work.  Often our logical thinking leads our hearts and our feet are dragged along for the ride. 

My heart is full with precious memories of family, friends, and music, shaping my life and my soul, fueling my passion.  Home, music, passion-these all morph into one solid shape, one direction, one image.  Not only does this image comfort and strengthen, but always includes and combines memories filled with loved ones and music.  I was very fortunate to grow up in a supportive home filled with harmony.  My parents always encouraged me to pursue my heart because wherever my heart went; they knew my feet would follow.  I want to provide this confidence, THIS HOPE, and this dream for all the children I will teach.  For if home is where the heart is, why not have every heart filled with music?  Remembering to always allow the music of our hearts to guide our footsteps.