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.