Warm-Up

 -Music is everywhere and it’s for all of us, every single one of us.

I’ve been in the community music biz for almost 3 decades, and have witnessed the evolution – or in many cases, de-evolution - of music in community over that time. A funny thing happened on the way out of graduate school, where I was on track to academia. But as mysterious things often happen, people and events converged and I was swept up in some serious energy to start a brand new community music school. The main person was my colleague and eventual work wife, P, who is the hardest-working, funniest, most passionate and thoughtful educator, musician and human I’ve ever had the honor and good fortune to work alongside. We started from scratch. From nothing. Researching, planning, maxing out a couple of credit cards and having no real road map, we created the Rocky Mountain Center for Musical Arts and never looked back. The founding vision, “Music for all…for life!” has been the driving force behind the school since Day One. We wanted a place where everyone would be welcome – for life, and here it is.

In this blog, I’ll share stories about that adventure along with tales from the freelance world, inspiration from amazing teachers, lessons learned from amazing students, and miscellaneous other tangents as they come along. Thank you for being on this journey with me. Some of you may recognize a situation or two or even yourselves. I’ve decided to refer to anyone currently on the planet by initials only, and I’ll use first or full names of those who have departed. I find this freeing and respectful.

What does “community music” mean, exactly? It’s a place, both physical and metaphorical, where everyone has a voice, or can find their voice. It’s a safe, nurturing space where anyone of any age, background, ability or financial circumstances can explore their own creative self-expression. Community music is fully participatory, in any way that an individual might want. That could include playing, singing, learning, listening, appreciating, or sharing. Music in community gives us a place to celebrate, remember, appreciate, respect, grieve, acknowledge, play, explore and learn. Most importantly, there’s a sense of belonging. Music just does this. We learned along the way that if we get out of the way, the community coalesces around musical activity. And community music is not this: elitist, competitive, judgey, exclusionary, bigoted, critical, hateful, or snotty. In case there was any question…

At first, we tried to figure it out. Is community the people who live nearby? Or are there mini-communities based on musical interest? Or are musical communities centered around a particular culture or tradition? What began to happen was that people simply showed up and the school became its own community. Because there was something right in our welcoming formula, diversity happened right before our eyes. We didn’t have the language or the right-minded strategy that is happening everywhere in the arts, and in the world right now. It grew organically. It was magical. Every day I reflect on this magic.

I’ve forever been fascinated by how we, the collective “we,” come to love music. Is it something that happens in an instant, in childhood? We come into this world ready for music and wired for it. Some of us forget about music along the way, and grow up into our adult lives. We turn into consumers instead of music makers. We place all sorts of value judgements upon music and those who perform publicly. We start out as kids singing “This Land is Your Land” (by the way, there’s context to this song that people should know before they teach it to kids) and turn into adults who only access music via apps or superstar Vegas residencies where tickets can’t be found for less than $600. And we’ve decided that if they’re not already superstars, only the winners of American Idol or The Voice or X Factor are also worthy of making music in public. We judge – pretty harshly – those who get kicked off the island. (Oh wait – that’s a different show.) And the judges on these shows. (Who is this Simon Cowell guy and who is he to judge anyone and why do we let him?) We lose the depth and potential of music when we make it a commodity, a competition.

Every single day I hear students (in varying degrees of ability and aptitude) in their lessons or rehearsals. Tiny violinists getting the hang of bowing, breathy little flute students whoofing into their instruments. A choir of senior citizens singing Sentimental Journey. This is where music lives for me, in those who reach for it and discover how powerful a thing music really is.

Music makes us better people, I’m convinced of this. It doesn’t feed us food, but it does nourish us, and that nourishment goes a long way toward forming us as humans. I like learning about all the ways that this happens, and I want to share those stories with you. Maybe we’ll find ourselves in a community here, which is how I experienced it happening 25 years ago when all sorts of people showed up to paint, drywall, repair, raise money, move pianos and do anything else that needed to be done so that the school could open. Watching it flourish over the years has been amazing. Getting stopped in the grocery store by someone I don’t know (or remember) who thanks me for their kids’ lessons or their own experiences at the school happens on a weekly basis. I didn’t do any of that – the music did.

Thanks for reading! If you’re a music educator, I appreciate and applaud you. If you’re a professional player, I also applaud you (because I know what it takes to do what you do). And if you’re here just because you love music, I thank you and hope you enjoy reading these tales of things musical. I’ll be posting at least once a week for the foreseeable future. Subscribing is free for now.

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