Playing music for the youngest set

I regularly take my 2-year old daughter to a certain playgroup. I have become close with some of the other moms and my daughter has made some great friends. It came to the attention of one of the facilitators that I am a professional violinist, and today's demonstration/performance was the result of her asking me to bring in my violin to play for the children.

The age range of the children at today's playgroup was 6 months (I think) to 5 years. There was a sizable number of 1 and 2-year-olds. In total, I estimate there were about a dozen children and 10 adults: mostly mothers and some grandmothers as well as the facilitator.

I was to play at "circle time" the 15-minute period at the end of playgroup when we sit in a circle and sing songs and sometimes hear a story. Just before circle time began, I tuned my violin. The silence that ensued was instant and intense. Parents holding infants appeared stunned as their tiny charges STARED, completely rapt, while I unceremoniously tuned my four strings. When I stopped, the facilitator broke the spell by singing the circle-time-is-starting song.

I am very comfortable talking to young children, and have a lot of experience describing what I do to young audiences. I showed the kids how I make sounds with my bow and how I love to make special effects on my violin. "But," I told them, "what I love most of all, is playing songs with my violin." I played them songs I suspected they knew, and took some requests. Some sang along, many just continued to stare. I finished with a very short piece by J.S. Bach that is standard repertoire for very young violinists: I teach it to all my students. I then told the children that they could each try my violin because I'd brought along a tiny bow. I told them that I'd move around the circle, but, I was quickly MOBBED (albeit in a gentle and even reverent way) by preschoolers and toddlers. They seemed drawn like magnets to my violin. Only one child was too shy. I reassured his grandmother that observing was just fine and that there was absolutely NO pressure to try the violin and bow. Interestingly, my own daughter showed no interest in trying my violin. I found this funny because she has frequently tried to play it at home. But, she is a very social creature, and was happily snuggled in the lap of one of the other mothers.

So, that was the play-by-play. Now, here are my only-somewhat-well-formed thoughts.

It is clear to me, and it has been for decades, that children of all ages love to listen to and want to make music. I've never heard a very young child respond negatively to classical music. Unless they are taught that classical music is uncool, boring, elitist, snobby, lame, difficult, intellectual and hence not populist, un-hip -- they will love it. And, teaching hatred for classical music doesn't have to be overt or even intentional. Where does this aversion to classical music come from? Certainly not from any children I've ever encountered. When I spoke with some of the parents after the performance, they expressed real shock at how attentive their children were. Now, don't get me wrong, there was a fair bit of noise while I played, but for the most part, the kiddies were really attentive, and parents were not scolding them, they were just being attentive too. (Ah -- a topic for another post, perhaps?) Why then, don't more parents play recordings classical music for their children at home? And, why is it disappearing from the airwaves? Is it because most of today's adults never heard any classical music at school, or when they did, it was in stuffy, grim, SILENT environments, where teachers glared at you if you breathed too heavily? Having performed often in schools, I can tell you that teachers still glare at students, and that classical performances are made out to be precious, delicate, archaic museum pieces -- weird relics of a distant past, akin to stuffed dodos. I even have an extended family member who repeatedly told me how weird I was as a child and teen to have studied classical music. REALLY? This is what you say to someone who is not only developing an excellent work ethic, but an appreciation for something other than the fast-food-style pop music that is shoved down our consumer-throats every time we venture into a mall or store? OK, I'm starting to rant. (But, isn't that what a blog is for?)

A message to all the adults out there: your children love classical music. They have no prejudices, you do. So, give them the chance to experience something deeper than Bieber. (How about Biber?) They will love classical music not because it's popular, but because it moves them. I've stared into the eyes of a toddler, and I've seen the truth.

I'll be back.

Playing at a long-term care facility

I have been so neglectful of my blog. My zero followers are sad for sure...

Yesterday, I performed with three colleagues at the Carleton Lodge: a long-term care facility.

The performance, on Baroque instruments, went quite well. That said, we played in a lobby, with an elevator going up and down in a glass case, behind the harpsichord. The sound was boomy, and we had trouble hearing ourselves and each other.

It was so easy to get worked up by inadequacies in the performance venue, that it was easy to forget why we were there: to play for those who don't have the freedom, the capacity to just get up, drive downtown, and attend a concert, a movie, a play, whatever.

I got to sit and observe my colleagues and our audience during the two pieces I didn't play. That is when I began noticing the effect our performance was having. One woman was draped with an overly cheery, cherry-red, institutional blanket. She wore white sneakers that have not seen many a sidewalk. She sat, eyes shut, in a large, electric wheelchair. She looked, this will sound strange, elegant. I imagine that for some of the residents, the process of loosing their independence has been a dehumanizing one. For some, a rapid stroke caused their lives to change. For others, the changes were perhaps more gradual. In any case, they must wait to be moved around, to eat, to use the bathroom. Their voices or bodies do not obey their brains, or perhaps their bodies are fine, but their brains are scrambled. Back to our "elegant" audience member. I could easily imagine her sitting primly, calmly at a concert in a large concert hall: her hair, just so, in a modest but fashionable dress. During the concert, her toes swayed gently. I hope she was enjoying the music. Maybe it provided some salve.

After the performance we milled around and chatted with the residents. The staff were quickly taking them back to their rooms, so not many were left to chat when I made my rounds. I missed the elegant lady, but had a lovely chat with a woman who just could not stop singing. Another woman beckoned me with arms open -- ready to hug me (albeit awkwardly, since I was still holding my violin). I soon realized she had lost her ability to speak. Her face was BEAMING at my. Her smile was contagious. I thanked her for listening to our music. She expressed, with her smile, that she loved it. It could not have been more clear, she *really* loved it.

As I left Carleton Lodge, I was overcome with thoughts of life, and aging, and my baby (now 19 months old!). We all want to age -- who wants to die young? But, at the same time, no one really *wants* to age... I don't have any answers right now. I'm grateful my daughter only speaks in one or two-word fragments, for, at this moment, I could not handle any existential questions.

I think I need to perform more for the elderly, and less for the "well-to-do"... I need to think of who needs my music the most.