The People's Chorus

Greetings from a prodigal blogger!


My, how time flies.  It's the last day of April, and a perfect spring day in Colorado -- this evening's post is being typed outdoors in celebration.   


Degree work has been quite frenzied over the past two weeks, and there's been a heavy dollop of concertizing on top of that, the most recent of which was with the community chorus conducted by one of my very dearest friends.  He was short a soprano in his chamber group, so I filled in, and was thereby privy to two performances of a concert he'd entitled "The People's Chorus," a title I absolutely love...I find the concept inspiring.  Too many people believe that music-making is a rarified-air kind of activity, that people who are musicians had to grow up in a special kind of family or live a special kind of life -- that musicians are born, not made, and you either are one or you're not.  You either have a good voice or you don't.  You either read music or you can't.  How sad, especially in a world where people like Kodály have worked hard to get the message out: Music belongs to everyone.  Art is a birthright, a necessity, something everyone can make and learn about and benefit from.  Lots of people still don't believe this, and you'd think that a university town would have a greater proportion of people who do, who are courageous enough to be willing to take hold of their artistic inheritance and do something with it.  And, to its credit, this particular university town does have many enthusiasts for the arts in various forms.  However, the "rarified air" mentality is still hard to combat, maybe because it's either a cultural or a human tendency (and an extremely powerful one, either way) to choose to believe that one cannot learn/grow/change in order to fend off the guilt of not trying.  So, we tend to stay the same....we dabble and form opinions, but we never really get down and dirty and comfortable with who we are so we can make a proper start toward who we'd like to be.  Just think what would be possible if this were not the case!

One of the more magical parts of these concerts was a piece composed by another friend of mine on a text attributed to F.G. Lorca:

"The poem, the song, the picture, is only water drawn from the well of the people, and it should be given back to them in a cup of beauty so that they may drink - and in drinking understand themselves."


To my knowledge, Kodály and Lorca never interacted, but it definitely sounds like they were on the same page, doesn't it?  However, perhaps Lorca reveals something of the Catch-22 involved here: by engaging with art, people come to understand themselves.  But, without a pre-existing connection to their truest selves, how will they come to art to begin with?  How will they recognize the solution to their thirst if they haven't acknowledged the thirst?  This is the crux, and perhaps the hardest part of the musician's task.  Obviously, the solution of teaching the very young to value art is the best one for our future, and it's usually a pretty short reach to get kids to be and express their true selves.  But, what about the grownups?  How can we reach out to them?  Classical musicians can't out-spend Mark Zuckerberg or ABC, so how do we pry the public away from Facebook and "Dancing with the Stars" and get them out to a concert hall or a rehearsal or a class or a private lesson?  


It strikes me that the answer may be "one at a time," but I think there might be something even closer to us that we must consider.  In order to be compelling, in order to make art and teach lessons that are worth experiencing, we ourselves must be in touch with what compels us.  In order to change the world, we need to lead by example.  Heavy, I know, but necessary and beautiful....and maybe even sometimes fun.  As mentioned above, kids are almost always rarin' to go on the authenticity-honest-self front, and they don't ever like to not have a good time.  


So, despite the fact that you poor darlings haven't had a "real" assignment in weeks, I'm going to go with this as your task for the week:


All Levels


Spend time this week feeding your inner artist.  For more specific advice, look here.


Spend time this week thinking about how you'd like to impact your community through music-making and teaching.  Dream wildly.  Imagine that money is no object.  Be extravagant.


Feel free to email or call me up with your ideas -- 'tis the season for big dreams and brainstorming.


Also, get ready next week for the start of pre-AKI Solfa Boot Camp (my new idea for May and June).  I'll be taking requests for specific areas you'd like to address, so again, feel free to email!