Making Music

Hello, Musicmakers and Dreamers of Dreams!

Whew!

Well, my friends, I have just arrived home from a looooong and very fruitful day of collaboration, organization, occasional near-asphyxiation, and ultimately, jubilation. What could cause this veritable casserole of human experience, you ask? The 49th Annual Madrigal Festival at the University of Colorado at Boulder.

A grand total of 23 high school choirs from as far afield as Pueblo South High School and as close as Boulder High School made the journey to Macky Auditorium to spend the day working with a great clinician (Dr. Jo-Michael Scheibe, from the University of Southern California) and singing for and with one another. This was my second year acting as the main logistical go-to person for this event, so I knew better what to expect this time around, but it's still an ENORMOUS job to cover all the details leading up to the day, and then see that everyone is taken care of on the day itself. I have never been more grateful for the cool heads, warm hearts, and generous spirits of my colleagues and teachers in the choral program. Not only did they show up early and stay late, they thought on their feet, anticipated needs, and kept their remarkable good humor through all of the day's twists and turns. The kind of work they do and the giving of themselves that they exercise is rare and inspiring.

So, as I watched Dr. Scheibe conduct, listened to 600 young voices sing, and felt the day sweep by me at record speed, I got to thinking about music-making and the backdrop of organization it requires. Just as music itself manifests the intention of its composers and performers, the events wherein music is made also show intention -- at the end of the day, it becomes obvious when the motivation behind a musical phrase or gesture is disconnected or half-hearted, even if it is executed accurately and skillfully. There are ways of disguising this, but the truth nearly always comes through -- for better or for worse. Similarly, it is possible to make a chart, buy a box of bagels, send an email, and host a festival in a completely dispassionate, perfectly orchestrated fashion, and some people will walk away not knowing the difference. No one can force a person to do more or better than this, and not everyone consciously knows they want more and better than this. However, I cannot look at the sincere and heartfelt efforts of my fellow students and my teachers and conclude that they are simply going through the motions. They have looked at the task at hand and made a decision not just to do the work, but to give of themselves in doing the work. This is Boethius' musica humana. This is the human side of music that will inspire young people to keep singing, playing music, and going to concerts. Why? Because we're all human, and we all need to feel connected, but one can only connect to people who make themselves available, and not everyone is willing to do that, especially not for a roomful of singing teenagers.

So, from my vantage point of gratitude, I ask you, gentle readers, to consider this. Make music, not as a matter of course, not because you're earning a paycheck, not because it's an assignment, not because you want to earn a degree, not because you want to be a star. Make music because it is inside you, because the world hungers for what you have to give, because you will discover a limitless supply when you have the courage to share it. Give freely, think about the details, and do it whether you're on the stage or organizing behind the scenes. It will never be unimportant, and it always has the potential to change the world.