The Music Settlement Musings

You don't know what you got til it's gone

2011-02-24T13:48:00.000-08:00

“Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone…” Joni Mitchell

I apologize for the lack of fresh copy from this blog for the past two months, as it’s been a busy time at The Music Settlement, and other priorities have jumped up to crowd blog writing off of my to-do list. Curiously, my lack of output has not been greeted by a great wailing and gnashing of teeth from the ether-world demanding new posts, but I will soldier on nevertheless and attempt to get back on track with more regular entries.

This week I noticed a story on the website of Americans for the Arts - www.americansforthearts.org , a national association of organizations and individuals advocating for quality arts and culture throughout our society - concerning the relative vigor of the arts industry in the face of the recession from which we hope we will soon emerge. The article concerned an update to Americans for the Arts’ annual appraisal of the health and vitality of the arts industry in America, the National Arts Index. The NAI was designed to measure a variety of socio-economic factors that indicate the success of arts and culture as economic engines of vitality and innovation in relation to the greater economy. The headline of the story was “Vitality of the Arts Industry Hits 12-Year Low.” Uh-oh….

As I read the article, it became apparent that what many of us know to be true locally is certainly true nationally - that the past four years have been very difficult for the arts in general and nonprofit arts in particular. Several NAI findings jumped out at me: the vitality of the arts sector dropped 6.2 points since the onset of the current recession, cutting in half the gains made from 2003-2007 and dropping a record 3.6 points in 2009 alone. Some notable results of this drop are that in 2008, 41% of nonprofit arts organizations reporting to the IRS failed to achieve a balanced budget, and that total public spending on the arts dropped almost 5% in relation to all expenditures. In addition, overall philanthropic giving to the arts during this period was down in relation to the past by $2.5 billion nationally.

Conversely, the number of college arts degrees conferred annually over the past decade has risen steadily from 75,000 to 127,000, and the percentage of individuals personally participating in or volunteering to support the arts has jumped by 11.6 %. During that same period, SAT results indicate that the high school-aged population interested in pursuing employment in the arts has risen from 15% to 20%. One additional dynamic to consider is, paradoxically, that the number of nonprofit institutions grew by 3,000 over the period of 2007 to 2009.

What does all this mean? It means that nonprofit arts organizations are currently trying to meet equal or greater demand with fewer resources and, in some cases, greater competition. It means that the margin for error is much smaller than even five years ago and the sustainability gap for this sector is widening. At the same time, the NAI indicates that enthusiasm for employment and service in the arts is growing and, to me, it seems critical that this development should not be blunted. The nonprofit arts sector needs to be able to support the next generation of creative artists and administrators, especially in a time when innovation can be the difference between success and failure.

Yes, that’s a lot of statistics and scenarios, but in every community there are real stories and examples that illustrate this same situation in our backyard. We’ve certainly had our share in the Cleveland area. A significant number of valuable arts and culture organizations have folded up their tents and several appear on the verge of doing so. Many programs designed to deliver quality arts experiences to our community are being scaled-back or suspended, and many funding sources have had to reduce or redirect support away from arts and culture-related projects.

At The Music Settlement, we have remained active and committed to our community partners and outreach efforts by inviting independent arts organizations to share our campus and administrative resources, in an effort to provide a more comprehensive experience for our community and preserve grassroots creative assets. We’ve also worked hard to stay within our means while strengthening our offerings, which is not an easy thing to do when many of efforts involve ramping up technology and communication methods.

In the past three years, The Music Settlement has been a primary partner in the development of a new comprehensive online registration and operating system for community schools of the arts. We have created a flourishing new American music and jazz curriculum in our Department of Music that has been chosen as a featured partner of the Berklee College of Music’s City Music national network. We have added new program offerings, such as post-stroke rehabilitation services in Music Therapy, and “Music, Math, and Movement” and Mandarin Chinese studies in Early Childhood Education. We’ve continued our commitment to supporting and producing academic-level research in the departments of Music Therapy and Early Childhood. At the same time, we have nearly doubled our financial aid resources and introduced innovative service options to better meet the greater demands of our students and their families. During this time we have not only hosted a variety of interns and students who seek future employment in the arts, but we have also hired them and created opportunities for them to keep their innovative ideas and energy right here in our community.

I believe that when the dust clears from the economic downturn or the “great recession” (or whatever it is we are living through right now), one of Northeast Ohio’s strongest contributors to recovery will prove to be the arts and culture sector. The Music Settlement will continue to be a part of that story, as it has been for more than 98 years and running.

They roared their terrible roars

2010-12-20T11:06:00.000-08:00

“…they roared their terrible roars, and gnashed their terrible teeth, and rolled their terrible eyes, and showed their terrible claws!” Maurice Sendak

Traveling for the holidays is just around the corner for many of us, and we all know what a joy that can be, but sometimes just getting there is the easy part. The fun starts when you decide to fill that holiday time away with as many “special” experiences as you can to make sure that this is the trip to top all trips - the one we’ll talk about for years to come…

Let’s face it, that’s a lot of pressure. Are you really going to outdo that first view of the Grand Canyon? Or the ride on the San Francisco cable car? Or even the visit to the world’s largest ball of twine? The chances are that you’re in for a disappointment, because in truth, the best memories are the ones that happen on the spur-of-the-moment, unplanned and unscripted. If you’re really lucky, you might be able to combine the search for the perfect moment with serendipity, which is what happened to my family this Thanksgiving.

First, a quantifier: I believe the search for the perfect moment differs exponentially depending on whether you’re traveling with kids or without. I suffer from the malady that strikes many people when they have kids - the need to overlay educational moments within any trip that is farther than, say, 20 blocks from your home. In the past I have been known to detour an otherwise straightforward zip down I-77 with a side venture to something like the final resting place of the dirigible “Shenandoah” or the “Big Musky Bucket” (whatever that is), even if it means driving two hours out of the way down the kind of unpaved and unmarked roads that send GPS into mute acquiescence. Is there a Civil War battlefield within 120 miles of our planned route? I’m there, baby, dragging catatonic kids to walk the rolling fields of Chickamauga, or climb the airless peaks of Kennesaw Mountain. On the other hand, if I’m traveling with just my wife, I can be perfectly happy to find a quiet retreat or expansive beach and just plop down and pull out my latest book. Bliss is often associated with inactivity in this case, and restfulness trumps revelation.

The challenge really comes when these two aspirations collide, hence Thanksgiving 2010. My little family decided to travel to the home of my sister and her husband outside of Lexington, Virginia, this November. They have a beautiful farm nestled between mountain ranges a good half an hour out into the wilderness from downtown Lexington. When I go there, I always think of one thing: relaxation. Sure, Lexington is a very historic town, the home of Stonewall Jackson, the final resting place of Robert E. Lee, home to two noted colleges (Washington and Lee University and Virginia Military Institute). It also has a thriving music and arts subculture; with something for everyone, it’s an ideal family vacation. But my sister has lived there a long time, and eventually visiting the grave of Lee’s horse, “Traveler,” starts to lose its luster, and sitting by the wood stove, dreamily reading back issues of The New Yorker appears to be as close to paradise as one can hope for. But no sooner had I put my feet up and started to snore lightly than I was disturbed by my sister regaling the 9-year old with tales of the wild animal safari park a few miles down the road. Immediately alarm bells began to ring in my drooping head. Little girls and big fuzzy animals! Ix-nay on the ark-pay! We already have a full schedule planned for the week! This was not on the radar screen.

Too late… before I knew it, our trip was being extended an extra day and a “safari adventure” was being planned. I knew resistance was futile, but I demanded one concession - that my thoughtful sister must accompany us as penance for bringing the whole thing up in the first place. Soon we found ourselves packed in my new Rav4 and heading to the “other” Lexington, a land of fiberglass dinosaurs, wax museums, an art installation named “Foam-Henge” (don’t ask), and restaurants painted electric pink. We entered the animal park through its faux-tribal arch, where a nice young attendant collected buckets of cash from us in exchange for four buckets of animal feed and our admission fees. A tiny voice inside my head said, “Huh, so this place actually allows you to feed the animals; I wonder how that works….” Then before I knew it, a stronger voice inside my head said, “Wait, we’re not allowed out of the car, we will have to feed them through open windows…” Then a LOUD voice (apparently it was mine) hollered, “Hold the buckets OUTSIDE the windows! Oh my [bleep], where did all these llamas come from!?”

There are few moments in life that can compare to having a full grown bison stick its head inside your car from one side, while a naughty zebra goes for the feedbag from another. As I watched in abject horror, food pellets, clumps of fur, saliva, and other unidentifiable secretions were sprayed around, inside, and on top of my new car! Everyone else in our car laughed uproariously throughout the assault until they were gasping for breath and, if truth be told, being that up close and personal with a gnu was pretty fun. But my mind could only focus on one thought - escape! My initial reaction was to hit the gas and leave the llamas and other large mammals in the dust, but hitting a wildebeest full-on with my little car was an even less pleasant prospect than getting slimed, so I soldiered on. As we moved further into the park I tried to hide my glee as the feed buckets were snatched away or dumped one-by-one (all over my seats, of course) by the wily critters until there was no more reason for them to hang around.

If you ask my family members, the hour or so we spent on safari that day was one of the most memorable ever. The photos and movies seem to back this up, as we created our own version of Where the Wild Things Are. And as for me, well, I’ll have the memories for a good, long, time; food pellets fermenting in my window wells, unaccounted-for stains and stickiness throughout my leather interior, and a nice little scratch in my car’s roof line from one very aggressive elk! Who was the one getting educated by this “special” travel experience anyway???

May you and yours have a warm and wonderful holiday season!

We make a living by what we get.

2010-12-06T08:29:00.001-08:00

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give. Winston Churchill

When an organization is more than 98 years old as ours is, conventional wisdom calls it a treasure of the community that should be held in the highest esteem. But in truth, the real measure of The Music Settlement’s worth after so many years is not the organization itself, but rather the people who have worked here day after day to manifest its mission. I would like to tell you about two such people who made a difference in the lives of so many others that their impact is really pretty hard to quantify in concrete terms. Let’s just say they affected generations of people in our community for the better, in very meaningful ways. We are all deeply saddened to have lost both of these people within the last 10 days, but the stories of Richard Kauffman and Jocelyn Chang are about so much more than their passing; they are about lives lived heroically and selflessly.

Dick and Jocelyn represent two different eras at The Music Settlement. Jocelyn began teaching harp with us in 1991 and continued right up until her untimely passing on November 19th, while Dick was the legendary founder and director of the Extensions Division of The Music Settlement from 1953 to 1986. We learned this week of Dick’s passing on November 27th at the age of 94. Even though Jocelyn and Dick’s eras at The Music Settlement were five years apart, they clearly were contemporaries in their spirited and generous approach to music and music education.

I’m not exaggerating when I refer to Dick as “legendary,” for he was a highly respected, admired, and honored member of the arts community in Cleveland for many years. He had the foresight to develop and lead a department that provided outreach efforts in many of the communities that defined The Music Settlement for 30 years and beyond. These efforts included the organization’s first forays into Music Therapy, and Dick is credited with being one of the strongest advocates for the establishment of this prestigious department. But the one thing I hear consistently from his colleagues about Dick is his truly joyful approach to his job and his life. Dick brought people together and inspired them to go beyond themselves and their limitations, from which great things resulted. I understand he particularly enjoyed hosting gatherings for the staff and faculty that still evoke warm memories and big smiles from those who attended them. Sometimes it’s rare that individuals with great vision also possess great compassion and understand that motivation is much more effective when it’s delivered by someone who so obviously cares about others. Dick was a perfect fit for The Music Settlement for that reason, where caring and responsiveness to our community is our reason for being.

“Caring” and “compassion” are two words that defined Jocelyn Chang as well. Her important legacy as a musician and a teacher is a reflection of that, and she was instrumental in the renaissance of the harp in our community in the last twenty five years. As a high profile performer of both traditional and nontraditional music and instruments, Jocelyn’s efforts inspired countless young people who might not otherwise have discovered the harp’s lyrical allure to consider it in a new light and turn to it as an instrument of choice. She took teaching very seriously and expected her students to do so as well, and as a result there is a generation of musicians out there who honed their talents under her watchful eye.

Jocelyn also championed the performance of works by new composers at the regional and international level, and helped to keep original composition vital in the eyes and ears of our community. This dedication led her to be a founding member of the Cleveland Chamber Symphony, a resident partner program of The Music Settlement and an award-winning professional ensemble dedicated to music by 20th century and living composers. Efforts like hers have helped keep classical music alive and thriving in a time of great competition and concern, which is of true benefit to all us. I had the great fortune to work with Jocelyn during my time at The Music Settlement, and I can personally attest to her impact as an artist and as a person. She was fearless artistically, stretching herself and her instrument beyond the boundaries of what is considered safe and traditional. She even redefined our perceptions of the harp when she fell in love with the sound of the Dilling Harp, an instrument on which she performed in numerous concerts and original works. She had great emotional strength and a depth of feeling that was evident in everything she did, and teamed with her husband and a fellow Department of Music instructor, Michael Leese, to be one of the most sought after performing duos in the region.

It is a frustrating exercise to try to distill a life of artistry, generosity, and humanity into a paragraph or two. I understand that I cannot begin to do justice to Dick and Jocelyn’s respective legacies, but I can tell you this: they courageously shared their gifts with others without a concern for any personal gain. They directly influenced thousands of others for the better during their lives and into the foreseeable future. They made this world a better place, and it is a bit less bright now because they have left us. Whether you knew them or not, celebrate their lives by living yours with the same attitude and you will light their way on the path to their next adventures.

Thank you, Dick and Jocelyn.

Have a great week!

I like to walk about amidst the beautiful things that adorn the world

2010-11-08T06:39:00.001-08:00

There are a lot of reasons why it’s cool to work at The Music Settlement, and one of them is our health maintenance program. You might be surprised to learn that a community center for the arts even has a health maintenance program; it probably seems a better fit for some large for-profit corporation, where you’d find an on-site gym and maybe even exercise classes, but we do our part. We provide incentives and encouragement throughout the year to our employees to help them adopt better habits and make better choices for their health and the health of their families. Not surprisingly, this practice also helps our business operation, as it has been a proven link to keeping our overall healthcare costs down while they are spiraling up elsewhere. But what’s even more appealing about these efforts is that they can be fun - well, maybe not the Holiday Weight Maintenance Challenge - but in general, they help build a sense of community and camaraderie.

A perfect example is last month’s program, Walktober. All employees were encouraged to create a routine of regular daily walking for significant lengths of time as a form of overall exercise with a variety of benefits. This program was a perfect match for me, as I have always been a big fan of just throwing on a coat and letting my feet carry me away on a voyage of discovery. It was also fun because I am fortunate enough to work and live in two communities that seem designed for the walker: University Circle and Cleveland Heights. It’s odd to think that, conversely, there are communities that are not friendly to walking, but increasingly that is the case in our country. One of my favorite authors, the witty and acerbic Bill Bryson, has written of this same phenomenon in several of his books (most notably, his classic A Walk in the Woods) - American communities built for the automobile and not for the foot. I remember a particular passage in which he tries to take a walk from a hotel where he is staying and he quickly finds himself in a “Wal-Mart World”, where there are no sidewalks, no pedestrian amenities, and in which trying to walk from point A to point B is tantamount to suicide. This is by no means the only example, but one that is becoming more and more frequent as the sprawl of the suburbs continues unchecked. But really, when did we decide that sidewalks and crosswalks were unnecessary? When did it become acceptable that driving a quarter mile to the Get-Go for a slushy was the preferred way to go?

I know, I know, I’m slipping into curmudgeon mode again, mea culpa, but last month’s Walktober experience has only cemented this issue in my mind. There are few areas in our region that can be as stimulating to the eye and the mind as a mile or so trekked around University Circle! I’ve been taking a half-hour at midday every day to stride around our neighborhood, varying my course each day but always including a circuit of Wade Oval and the lagoon. These areas were designed for strolling, with unexpected sights, both natural and man-made, that catch the imagination and blend together seamlessly, even though they represent more than a 100-year span of development. How cool is it that you can walk by the John Hay house, now home to the Western Reserve Historical Society, and come across the brand new Stephanie Tubbs-Jones Community Plaza? Or that you can let your vision drift from the historic to the modern to the contemporary in just one building, The Cleveland Museum of Art? While you’re at it, shift your gaze 180 degrees from CMA and looming over the more traditional structures that line East Boulevard you’ll see the striking shapes of the Peter B. Lewis Building on the campus of Case Western Reserve University. And there’s so much more.

Similarly, I live in the Fairmount/Coventry section of Cleveland Heights, where a short walk affords me views of three of the most beautiful churches in the area, a nature area of surprising variety and drama, and the unique commercial districts of Coventry, Cedar Hill, and Lee Road. Every walk brings a new adventure and reminds me of the immeasurable value of a community that is planned on a human scale, regardless of the character of residence or business that is represented around me. One might argue that such neighborhoods and business districts are a hassle to negotiate and challenging to navigate, but that’s the beauty of the thing. They are not designed to help you pass through quickly while staring straight ahead and talking on your cell phone, they demand that you pay attention, take your time, and that you gain more than just speed by the experience. I think it’s critical that we all take time to walk the neighborhoods of our lives, literally and metaphorically. I don’t want to measure my life from the window of an automobile and the clock on the wall. How healthy can it be for any of us to sit in our workspace, car, and TV room all day? Let’s celebrate “Walktober” every month of the year, and wear out a few pairs of shoes in the process.

Have a great week!

2010-10-19T06:50:00.001-07:00

“None of us really understands what is going on with all these numbers…” David Stockman on the US budget, 1981

All of us are into numbers in one way or another; it’s unavoidable in our high tech world. We define ourselves by numbers: social security numbers, cell or home phone numbers (if anyone still has land lines these days), credit card numbers, lottery numbers….even the calendar seems to emphasize the issue, as we just passed October 10th, 2010 (10/10/10) on Sunday. We are surrounded by analog reminders of our daily life, and too many of us seem to think this is the only way we can effectively measure our impact and worth on this planet. What a sad commentary that is.

But don’t give up hope. There are ways to make numbers work for you and maybe even be your friends! You can start by finding real and redeeming value in numbers. Instead of starting each day with a roster of the challenges and expectations you’ll face in the race to 5:00 PM (another number!), take the time to count your blessings that make the whole thing worthwhile. When you calculate your relative success in a day or a year, don’t make the mistake of basing it only on dollars earned or items checked off your to-do list. Consider the people you’ve met and/or helped, and those who have helped you. I find it a telling sign of our times that people my age seem to be more and more obsessed with the count on their “bucket list”- the things they want to do before they kick the bucket. It seems to me that very few of those lists include items that focus on being of service to others, like “help a young person find their way in life”, or “build a home for someone who doesn’t have one.” Really, how many of us truly need to climb Kilimanjaro to feel fulfilled? Can we really”go gentle into that good night” only if we first visit every major league ballpark in America? I’m not knocking those things, I’m just saying that we should all be able to balance the need for racking up numbers of “thrills” with personal checklists of more altruistic goals. Maybe I’m just lucky because I work at The Music Settlement, where we strive every day to bring richness and impact to the lives of those we serve.

Let me cite some numbers for you that are really special: one instructor for every six children in our arts-enriched early childhood day school classrooms; four years of full scholarship to the Berklee College of Music for Jazz @ The Settlement student Jevaughn Bogard; 13 full-time Music Therapists on staff, making The Music Settlement the largest community-based music therapy program of its kind in the country; more than 40 years of bringing our community programs targeting the very young and people with special needs; 48 weeks of the year filled with activities on our Magnolia Drive campus for you to enjoy; more than 120 instructors and therapists ready and willing to bring you a life-changing experience in a one-on-one or group class format; more than 3,200 individuals directly served by The Music Settlement each year; over 50,000 square feet of building space on our campus to serve the needs of our students and clients in music therapy, early childhood education, and music instruction; more than $190,000 awarded by The Music Settlement in 2009-2010 in scholarships and financial aid to students and clients in all of its departments; and perhaps the most impressive number of them all: 98 consecutive years of bringing quality personal experiences in the musical arts to our region and beyond.

Of course, there are many more numbers associated with The Music Settlement than I can list within the confines of this blog, but you get the idea. There have been a lot of people doing a lot of things here for a lot of years to make a lot of folks' lives better - more than can be counted, actually. These are the kinds of numbers that really mean something. Numbers that you don’t mind be measured against. Numbers that tell a story that is worth paying attention to. The next time you’re stressing about the latest score of your sports team, or the numbers polled by your favorite contestant on a reality show, or the forecast for that Saturday on which you have plans; remind yourself of numbers that really do add up to something significant for you, in your own life and at places like The Music Settlement. I’m counting on you!

Have a great week!

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound

2010-09-22T10:24:00.000-07:00

From where do we draw our strength? How do we hold ourselves up and stand tall when life is at its most challenging? A surprising number of people turn to the power of music.

For some, it’s a source of relaxation or stress reduction; for others, it improves focus and concentration. Many others find it to be a very personal pathway to a state of grace. You can find many instances in this world, both formal and informal, where music heightens enlightenment and steels resolve; where it acts as a channel to greater clarity and unlocks answers hidden to us by our everyday tunnel vision. We’ve all experienced it - music conjuring up a memory, or calming a case of late night insomnia, or helping you “rev up” for a sensitive or demanding undertaking. Music provides for many of us the frame in which we place cherished or unforgettable moments. Whose heart doesn’t beat a little faster at the opening notes of a favorite song from years ago, or smile doesn’t broaden when hearing a young person’s first recital? For many of us, it is now impossible to hear Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings and not be reminded of the comfort and solemnity it provided following the terrible events of September 11th, 2001. I’m sure that each of you could add hundreds of examples to this list because, in one way or another, music frames the experiences of our lives.

This week, I wanted to share a story from one of our staff members that speaks to this issue in a very personal and moving way. It is a story that can be difficult to tell and difficult to read but, like the strains of Adagio for Strings, there is also great comfort amidst the pain.

The Department of Music Therapy here at The Music Settlement is staffed by an awesome group of individuals doing very important work in our community. We bring our programs to people through two main methods – in one-on-one or small group sessions at our Magnolia Drive campus, or more broadly-oriented outreach programs at a diverse group of partner agencies and locations throughout the region. We currently boast a staff of 13 therapists from a variety of backgrounds and areas of expertise who serve client needs ranging from post-stroke rehabilitation to autism spectrum diagnosis. Our therapists are involved in clinical research and publishing, medical, social, educational, and family services, and they develop and lead professional development efforts within the field of music therapy. But most of all, they are “angels” who provide critical help for people at all levels of need. Just such an angel is one of our newer therapists, Sarah Paczak Chappell.

Sarah actually rejoined us this year. She interned with us in 2008-09 during her last year of college, and when a position recently opened up in our department, we welcomed her to our professional staff with open arms. Like all of our therapists, her workload is made up of a combination of in-house clients and offsite agency assignments. Her story today concerns an agency assignment, Malachi House, which is a place that cares for patients with terminal illness and with limited family resources. Her story involves a resident client and the grace that music brought to both of them. But I’ll let her tell the story. The following is reprinted with permission from the Malachi House online newsletter.

As the music therapist for Malachi House, I have the privilege of sharing music with residents who are terminally ill. Music truly brings a sense of comfort, support and peace to those who are nearing the end of life. Nevertheless, I have come to realize that the residents at Malachi House bring the same types of feelings to my life, and Elizabeth was truly one of those residents.

When I first met Elizabeth, I knew she was coming to Malachi House with feelings of fear and anxiety. She was extremely tearful when I first met her but upon seeing my keyboard her tears quickly dried and an instant bond was created. She loved music, especially religious hymns. Elizabeth made an immediate request to hear the song, “Whatsoever You Do.” I knew the song well and was happy to sing it for her. Elizabeth expressed thankfulness for the song, as she felt that the song’s lyrics spoke to her in a special way.

As weeks and months passed, the song “Whatsoever You Do” became our theme song. It was played during every session along with Elizabeth’s other favorite hymns. Then, during one particular session, Elizabeth made a special request after the playing of her song. She reached out, held my hand and said, “When I die and have left his world, will you come back to my room, close the door and play me my song? Although you will not see me, I will be here listening to your music.” I immediately agreed to this request.

I continued seeing Elizabeth for several weeks after her request was made, and during each session we would sing “Whatsoever You Do” and she would remind me of her request. The day before she went to heaven, Elizabeth and I were able to sing her song together one last time. However, the following morning after her passing, I realized that Elizabeth and I still had one more song to sing. So I went into her room, closed the door and sang. As I sang and looked around the room, I felt such a sense of calmness and peace. Elizabeth was there. I kept my promise, and she kept hers.

By: Sarah Paczak Chappell,
Board Certified Music Therapist contracted from The Music Settlement to serve Malachi House through the generous support of the Kulas Foundation

Whatsoever You Do
Willard F. Jabusch

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people that you do unto me

When I was hungry, you gave me to eat
When I was thirsty, you gave me to drink
Now enter into the home of my father

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people that you do unto me

When I was homeless, you opened your door
When I was naked, you gave me your coat
Now enter into the home of my father

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people that you do unto me

When I was weary, you helped me find rest
When I was anxious, you calmed all my fears
Now enter into the home of my father

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people that you do unto me

When in a prison, you came to my cell
When on a sick-bed, you cared for my needs
Now enter into the home of my father

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people that you do unto me

When I was laughed at, you stood by my side
When I was happy you shared in my joy
Now enter into the home of my father

Whatsoever you do to the least of my people that you do unto me

Amen. Have a great week!

Without this playing with fantasy no creative work has ever yet come to birth

2010-09-09T11:56:00.000-07:00

“Without this playing with fantasy no creative work has ever yet come to birth. The debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalculable.” Carl Jung

As summer is ending, a new school year is beginning at The Music Settlement, and we are excited about all the great things that come with that. We have added new depth to our list of offerings in each department, including a Chinese language curriculum in the Early Childhood Department’s day school and preschool, World Music studies in the Department of Music, and expanded outreach and group opportunities in the Music Therapy Department, to name a few. We welcome new and returning faculty to upgraded facilities, including a new 10-station computer lab, a renovated room dedicated for Music and Movement classes, as well as a refurbished faculty lounge and expanded multipurpose studio in Music therapy, and brand new signage to help folks find their way around our Magnolia Drive campus. One look will tell returning students that we are dedicated to constant improvement in the on-campus experience, and that new students need not be concerned that their experience will be anything less than exceptional while they are with us.

Our faculty and therapists are returning after some much needed R & R during our brief slow period at the end of the summer, but we never really stop working to make things the very best they can be. Many of our teaching staff spent their time away in educational or performance pursuits, seeking to recharge their batteries and constantly grow in their ability to engage and involve their students and clients. Yes, you read that correctly - many of our music instructors went off to play music during their time away from the campus! In truth, so many of our instructors and therapists find themselves limited in their actual performance time during the year that they head off on vacation to play in a festival orchestra, to have an intensive study with a favorite teacher or take in a seminar or lecture, or just listen to live performances in as many places as possible.

A great example of this is Linda Miller, a Music and Movement specialist in the Early Childhood Department. She spent much of the last part of this summer preparing for a performance of a lifetime. She said to me the other day that, after years of teaching and performing music, “I finally am playing Severance Hall!” You can catch her special performance with the Ensemble du Monde in Reinberger Chamber Hall at Severance this Friday, September 10th at 8pm. They will be performing instrumental and vocal works by Mozart, Mahler, Dvořák, and Saint-Georges. Tickets are still available as of this writing.

That to me this is one of the things that make working in the arts so unique and special: you don’t necessarily want or need to get away from “the office” when your work is over. I also know that the same can be said for many of our students and clients, who spend significant portions of their summers in intensive education programs, camps, or continuing study. The arts truly feed the soul, to which anyone who has sat on the lawn at Blossom or Cain Park or numerous bandstands around the area can attest. At The Music Settlement we recognize that creative experiences should never be taken for granted and that a child given an opportunity to develop in a creative environment will more often than not carry that experience forward in life to their benefit.

Experts in the field of childhood development agree with this point of view as well. Here’s a brief excerpt from an online newsletter on the website ChildCareExchange.com that addresses the importance of a creative environment for childraising; I think you’ll agree that it presents reinforcement of the value of the environment we work so hard to provide to your family.

The Creativity Crisis

A recent IBM poll of 1,500 CEOs identified creativity as the No. 1 “leadership competency of the future," reveals Po Branson in her Newsweek (July 16, 2010) article, “The Creativity Crisis”. However, she also reported research that revealed that "...creativity scores [for American children] had been steadily rising, just like IQ scores, until 1990. Since then, creativity scores have consistently inched downward." Branson notes that one likely culprit to the declining creativity of our children "...is the number of hours kids now spend in front of TV and playing video games rather than engaging in creative activities. Another is the lack of creativity development in our schools. In effect, it’s left to the luck of the draw who becomes creative: there's no concerted effort to nurture the creativity of children." Other interesting insights in the article:

"Preschool children, on average ask their parents about 100 questions a day. Why, why, why — sometimes parents just wish it'd stop. Tragically it does stop. By middle school they pretty much stopped asking. It's no coincidence that this same time is when student motivation and engagement plummet. They didn't stop asking questions because they lost interest: it's the other way around. They lost interest because they stopped asking questions."

At The Music Settlement, our core mission is to engage all ages through a life enriched by the joy of music and the arts. We focus on helping each individual find their own joy, in whatever method they identify it. As our 98th year of service to this community begins, we know that that the enrichment we offer makes a lifetime of difference to so many. Please join us for the fun of it!

Have a great week!

How hard to realize that every camp of men or beast has this starry firmament for a roof

2010-08-11T07:14:00.000-07:00

“How hard to realize that every camp of men or beast has this starry firmament for a roof ...And are sailing the celestial spaces without leaving any track.” John Muir

One of the true benefits of growing up in a sleepy town on a lake is that you become quite well acquainted with the stars. Whether you’re lying in a sleeping bag at the lakefront on a quiet summer night, or staring skyward during a break in skating on the frozen expanse in the dead of winter, the stars in their courses were always there to greet you.

It also meant there were plenty of folks to teach you the finer points of the planets, the Milky Way, and the constellations. I became familiar with the fact that the appearance of Orion meant winter was right around the corner, and that his disappearance meant summer was here at last. I learned the story of vain Cassiopeia, forever destined to look towards the heavens for half the year, only to be forced to hang upside down facing the mortal earth during the other half. I joined the legions of children who learned that the “Drinking Gourd” (the Big Dipper) pointed the way to Polaris and freedom for escaped slaves heading north. I knew that the first and brightest star you saw in the evening sky was usually not a star at all, but the planet Venus - though for the life of me, I could never really distinguish a planet by its constant light as compared to the “twinkling” of the stars.

Growing up in the sixties, I also witnessed an early mark made by humankind’s hand on the nightly dance in the sky. I have vivid memories of a cold winter night when adults as well as children took a break from skating and cocoa to watch a shocking new phenomenon pass overhead. It was Echo, an early, very primitive weather satellite resembling a giant beach ball that caught our imagination that night. If you strained your eyes very hard and focused on the spot where it was expected to appear to the north, a very dim but constant light would emerge every 20 to 30 minutes or so and trace a stately arc across the sky. To those assembled, it was astonishing: we had added a star to the sky and put our thumbprint on the ageless heavens for the first time in history. Of course, by now we have added countless orbiting objects to our very crowded sky, but I still find it fun to point out the unblinking light of an artificial satellite to those around me.

But there are streaking lights in the night sky that were even more breathtaking to my young eyes, and they are at their peak this very week - the Perseid Meteor Showers! My mother claimed she once witnessed the night’s greatest light show, the Aurora Borealis, from our backyard, but that was years before I was born and I have yet to experience it personally. So for me, shooting stars are the greatest show off earth. The Perseid show hits its highest density in mid-August each year, with up to 90 to 100 visible meteors per hour during prime viewing hours. Whether or not you have seen the meteor showers, experts are predicting that this will be one of the best displays in the northeast in years, so try not to miss it!

Several factors contribute to this year’s forecast, not the least of which is that the moon will not be in evidence to work against the meteors with its reflected light. It is also expected to be relatively clear during the peak days, which begin this Wednesday the 11th and continue through the weekend. Observing shooting stars can take your breath away with their dramatic and unpredictable nature and can be a great family activity, if you don’t mind staying up a bit late. Here are some tips for the best approach to maximize your chance of seeing the Perseids in their full glory:

• First and foremost, get away from ground light. Go camping, visit friends out in the country, or just turn off all your lights; ground light is the biggest detractor from enjoying the night sky.

• You have to stay up late. Prime viewing is from midnight to dawn, so try taking a nap beforehand, or better yet, celebrate the end of summer by letting the kids (and yourself!) stay up later than usual.

• Find a spot that gives you a clear view of the northeast sky (the portion of the sky in which the morning sun rises). It’s the rotation of the earth towards the trail of the remains of the comet Swift-Tuttle that causes the shower, and the earth rotates towards the northeast.

• Give yourself some time to adjust to the lack of light. You may have to sit for at least 45 minutes to allow your eyes to fully adjust to the dark. If you need to bring along a light, find or make a red-filtered flashlight. You can use that and not cause your eyes to regress from night vision mode. Allow your focus to roam a bit; often you catch the beginning of a meteor trail best from your peripheral vision.

• Bring along a blanket or a lounge chair that allows you to recline comfortably, and dress warmly, even during our recent hot evening weather.

Give it a try - you won’t be disappointed, and you and those with you will be filled with the joy of the timelessness of the universe and the never-predictable nature of life. You can fill the time waiting for your eyes to adjust by telling the stories of the stars to a young person. Waiting for them up there is the fearless Perseus, the beautiful Andromeda, the strong Hercules, and bears, lions, scorpions, and other animals galore. They have been there for untold millenniums, tracing their steps night after night, just waiting for you to raise your eyes and learn their story. Oh, and don’t forget to make a wish…

Have a great week!

It was a bright cold day in April

2010-07-28T08:59:00.000-07:00

“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”
Opening line of 1984, by George Orwell

I’m sure we are all responsible adults and that, for the most part, we’re able to separate fact from fiction, but recent events have driven me to put something in print for all to read (if anyone is actually reading this, of course):

I will not use this blog or this medium of electronic communication to misrepresent facts or manipulate perception.

I know at this point you’re all saying, “Whew! That’s a load off my mind,” but for once, I’m not kidding. Even in this literary piffle that I write, I take very seriously the responsibility to not hand you a load of hooey in order to get my point of view across or to falsely influence your perception of an event, idea, or person. Occasionally I may push an agenda in my efforts to advocate or inform (read more books, make more time for the arts, complain about the weather…), but I will always make it clear that I am expressing my opinions or hopes, and any corroborating examples or facts I include have been backed up by fact-checking and research.

Now, at this point, you’re probably asking yourself, “What do I care if Charlie looks up the correct spelling of Captain Yossarian?” But in the big picture, this is something I am concerned about, and you should be, too: the relative nature of truth as represented in the media these days, particularly on the internet, and its impact on our overall perceptions now and into the future. When an individual can, intentionally or unintentionally, present information out of context or create spurious content that is spread to millions in a heartbeat, one has to question where we go for truth nowadays. I am, of course, referring to the deplorable incident in recent weeks surrounding former USDA official Shirley Sherrod. I am not going to climb on my soapbox to opine about shameful political motivation and outcomes that may be associated with it. I do want to shout my opinion regarding the core injustice in this story - that the whole mess was generated by information that was intentionally skewed and disseminated on the internet!

From where I stand, this is among the issues in our society that cause me the most fear for my children and grandchildren’s future: the increasing trend to accept information as truth, without any attempt to check its veracity. It’s not the deficit, it’s not global warming, it’s not the decline of civility (although that may be related) that cause me to question our legacy, it’s history’s lesson that when the people stop demanding truth or are too comfortable, naïve, or biased to question the status quo, bad things follow.

I know that since the beginning of recorded history, truth has always been elusive, and that the winners are always going to report the story with a bias towards their interests. I am aware that history is replete with examples like George Armstrong Custer, who was considered a hero and a martyr for 100 years or more until his life became synonymous with the dark history of European/ Native American relations and conflicts in North America. But throughout history, there have been repositories of fact and truth that conscientious individuals could call upon to try to discern and distribute the real story. What worries me is that in 2010, people are increasingly relying on the internet to be that source, especially young people. I myself often turn to online resources to gather facts (such as the spelling of Yossarian), and when I do, I feel a twinge. For the most part, the open source process that provides reference sites with their info is fairly successful and accurate, but you should never take what they present at face value. The creep of inaccuracy into listings and data in sources such as these can be very slow and unintentional, but it remains that you cannot take the information you read there as gospel. And there are certainly cases, such as the Shirley Sherrod / Andrew Breitbart debacle, where facts seem to have been intentionally edited out of their original context and posted on the web without warning the viewer that this was the case. Once something is posted, many folks accept it as truth, and in this age of digital editing, manipulation, and technological wizardry, that is a very scary thing.

I pledge, for whatever it’s worth, that I will do all I can to not exacerbate this situation. It would be wise for each of us to make that pledge - to not accept information outlets as being wholly accurate unless we can verify them as such, and to not perpetuate the cycle by forwarding unverified information without a disclaimer labeling it as such. In the battle for truth in this very complex world, the onus is upon each of us to hold the line and to exercise a healthy skepticism whenever necessary. Otherwise, we may find ourselves and our descendants in a society of individuals who not only no longer have the ability to do so, but aren’t even aware that they once could.

…and that is my opinion!

I couldn’t send out my message this week without including an excerpt of a note we received from Department of Music and Jazz at The Music Settlement (J@MS) faculty member Ken LeeGrand, who just returned from the Berklee College of Music’s PULSE Training Institute (PTI) and filed a report on some of our current jazz students who he observed participating in Berklee’s five- week Summer Performance Program. I think you will agree from the evidence that the music education currently being provided to these young people by The Music Settlement is second to none!

I wish everyone [from The Music Settlement] could see the fine job our students are doing at Berklee College of Music!!!! ....They are representing us in excellence!!

So far I have seen 4 of the 5 students we have attending. First I saw Jack Laskey (J@MS) in a Fusion Jazz Quartet rehearsal (keys, bass, drums and guitar). It was his first time rehearsing with this group and he wasted no time not only fitting in but writing the bridge to the original piece they were working on! He displayed his excellent solo "chops" and drew very complimentary comments from the director Robert Schlink. Even though the amp Jack was playing through was problematic, Jack did not get rattled and continued to display all of the fine musical and personal qualities we teach and talk about in J@MS!!!!!

Next I went to an R & B ensemble under the direction of Winston Maccow. Winston explained that he hadn't written the charts for Aretha Franklin's “Rock Steady,” so he sang the part and told a young trombonist from Memphis to teach it to the rest of the horns (2 trmpts, 2 alto and 2 tenor saxes). He was close but Brian Plautz (J@MS) nailed it and showed it to the section. In the meantime, Brian Benton (J@MS) was drawing great reviews on electric bass. After the rehearsal many PULSE viewers complimented him on his skills.

I've now been in 4 hours of rehearsal but I wasn't going to miss Jevaughn Bogard in his Mainstream Jazz rehearsal.... The person directing this ensemble was an older gentleman and explained that he had been at Berklee for many many years. (I'm sorry but his name escapes me.) It was obvious he knew Jevaughn because at the opening of the piece he turned to JB and asked for some of that "Ben Webster sound" for the opening solo, that JB delivered in fine fashion. He was very much like the other directors with his compliments on yet another one of our players! As he knew I was there with JB he gave me the "look and the thumbs up" many times during this rehearsal as signs of his approval with JB. He really likes JB's sound!!!

Every ensemble was filled with very talented young musicians but it was quite obvious that the students from J@MS not only are holding their own but are emerging as humble players with ability that is really being recognized by their directors. As a representative of TMS, I'm very proud of these students and the humble way they present themselves. The J@MS' Saturday school has been a great thing for these and all of the students involved!!!

Regards,
Ken LeeGrand

Have a great week!

All Good Books are Alike

2010-07-22T12:22:00.000-07:00

All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened…
Ernest Hemingway

I’ve noticed lately that there is a lot of media time being given to a personal entertainment option that not only provides information and in-depth factoids, but also immerses the user in vivid imagery that engages the senses in flights of fancy, guaranteed to make the hours whiz by. This device allows users to digest its output at their own pace, and can be set aside and left for long periods of time without losing any fidelity or reverting to a default setting. What’s more, you can avail yourself of this product in several formats, and you never have to worry about a power source, adaptors, or attachments. It works just fine at either the beach or the living room and comes in very sturdy packaging. Best of all, it’s reasonably priced, and is sold at just about any retail outlet you can imagine, even at the airport.

Naturally, your first question is, “What has Steve Jobs come up with now, and how can I get it?” But you would be wrong - this device has been around for at least 550 years, and probably a whole lot longer. I am referring, of course, to a book. Not a Kindle, or an iBook, or even an Etch-a-Sketch; I mean the printed word, bound in hard or soft cover and maybe illustrated, but definitely filled with fantastic things.

Now before you start on me about being an old fogey or a Luddite or some other form of over-the-hill crank with a keyboard, here’s my point: books are hot again! As we amble through this summer, which is shaping up as the toastiest overall on record, I catch repeated stories in the media about how spending the summer reading a great book is more popular now than ever. Some librarians may disagree, but the fact is that certain authors of fiction have really lit up minds across this country. I think there was concern that the fever that gripped the younger generations (as well as us old fogeys) through the run of the Harry Potter series would abate with the conclusion of the seventh and final book, but there is ample reason to believe this is not the case. Whether its young folks devouring Diary of a Wimpy Kid, or it’s their older siblings reading any one of the vampire/ werewolf/ supernatural-themed series that abound today, good old books appear to be in demand with the “Kindle generation”. And for those of you who may question the quality of the literature, I can say personally that I don’t care what the subject matter is, as long as it’s well written, and most of my generation cut our reading teeth on fantasy anyway. C’mon, how many 50-somethings out there first got caught up in a love of books through the imaginary worlds of Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia and Dune? If it gets young folks to dig reading, I’m all for it!

It’s also interesting to note the apparent boom in book reading amongst the fogeys. I know that the best-seller lists remain full of self-help books and screeds of political diatribe, but there is also plenty of more traditional summertime fiction to be found, led by Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy. I’m sure, too, that there are plenty of folks using various electronic devices to read their selections, but everyone I know is doing it the old fashioned way -putting aside an hour or two, finding a comfortable spot, and cracking open a book. This to me is the real hook of great (and not so great ) literature - the chance to slow down the pace a bit, maybe get your mind off the day’s drudgery, and climb a tree with Captain Yossarian, get lost with Ralph and Piggy, or have a cup of tea with Emma. Reading is a solitary enterprise, of course, but a good book will deliver you into a world of complexity and fill your time with witty conversation, life-long friends, intrigue, and quite possibly danger. And guess what? If you’ve finished your book and moved on to other things, you can revisit it, and nothing will have changed, unlike almost anything else in life. Atticus Finch will still hold true to his beliefs, Gus McCrae will still ride off into the sunset, and Holden Caulfield will be waiting for you out in the rye.

What really seals the deal for me is that you can also share these worlds with others and ponder their interpretation, even if it’s different from yours. Books as gifts come with the promise of more than momentary impact, and often can provide the basis for conversation well into the future. Give one to a young person and think of it as a way to keep the cycle going; open another person’s mind to the power of the written word and give them something to do on a sultry summer afternoon. Sometimes we all need an escape from the daily grind.

Have a great week!

The other day I met a bear in the woods...

2010-07-08T08:47:00.001-07:00

The other day (the other day), I met a bear (I met a bear), out in the woods (out in the woods) a way out there (a way out there)….
Anonymous

Does the concept of vacation seem different to you nowadays? Do you return from a week or two away from the office feeling less relaxed and refreshed than when you left? Do you feel like you need a vacation from your vacation? Apparently, you’re not alone.

It seems that we are becoming a society that doesn’t know how to relax. Personally, I have great difficulty just kicking back and watching the clouds roll by. I’m much more prone to try to kick, hit, shoot, and toss as many balls, Frisbees, beanbags, and horseshoes as possible while simultaneously watching, attending, visiting, and experiencing as many things as I can. Trying to relax is exhausting! You get up too early because that’s when the fish are biting, and then you stay up too late playing one more hand of Tripoley or singing one more camp song. And what is it with songs around the campfire, anyway? Is there any other time in your life that you willingly engage in singing in the round? Or, for that matter, would you ever in your right mind substitute silly hand gestures for words and phrases in mixed company without being under the influence of too many s’mores?

But I digress. Because campfire songs and food that sticks to your face for the next three days are actually verifiable signs of a summer vacation well spent, in my book. It may lead to embarrassing Facebook postings and major dental work, but it was well spent. No, what gets to me are two common trends I see (and of which I am guilty) that seem guaranteed to turn vacation time into anything but a rejuvenating experience.

The first trend is this strange need for the “power vacation”. You know the symptoms - trying to fill every minute of every day with activities and experiences. We’ve all heard the neighbor or coworker talking about how they just got back from visitingYellowstone-shootingtherapids-climbingthatmountain-seeingMountRushmore-takingcampfirecookinglessons-joiningacattledrive-etc. over the recent three-day weekend! Maybe it’s our greatly increased mobility, or our more informed world, or our early 21st century madness, but many of us have this overwhelming urge to visit every giant ball of string or two-headed calf within a tri-state area, otherwise we don’t feel as if we have really done anything on vacation. If we’re not exhausted, if we haven’t had a full sensory immersion in every waking second of our time away from the daily grind, well then we just haven’t had fun, by golly!

The other trend is the really scary one - the dreaded “working vacation.” Now this one is the result of some very real modern day curses: cell phones (or even worse, smart phones), laptop computers and wi-fi, Facebook, Twitter and all the social networks, and this weird sensation that so many of us seem to suffer from these days - namely, the fear of being disconnected. Guess what folks? If you’re sitting in the sun on the deck of a boat lazily drifting down some foreign body of water and you take just a quick glance at your iPhone to check your e-mail, YOU ARE AT WORK! If you’re gauging the wind before your tee shot on hole #3 at a golf course in some other time zone, and you hear the “ping!” of an alert from a pocket in your golf bag notifying you that there’s an update from Wall Street, YOU ARE NOT RELAXING! Finally, and most depressingly, if you’re sitting cross-legged before the grandeur of some breathtaking natural wonder, and your immediate reaction is to fire up your Blackberry and update your status on a social media site so “all my friends can share this with me,” YOU ARE NOT EVEN IN THE MOMENT!

Please excuse the preachy capitals. As I have mentioned, I am as guilty as others in both of these trends (well, maybe not the Facebook part…), but I am passing this on to you as a public service. Do as I say and not as I do. The summer is still young and there are beaches and campsites and wilderness trails and sticky s’mores galore awaiting you, so make the most of them. Dare to disconnect, strive towards solitude, and reach for rest and relaxation. Try something new - do nothing for a while. Haven’t we earned it?

Have a great week!

2010-06-22T06:57:00.000-07:00

It is probably not love that makes the world go around, but rather those mutually supportive alliances through which partners recognize their dependence on each other for the achievement of shared and private goals.
Fred Allen

Over the past few years, The Music Settlement has reached out to like-minded organizations to develop partnerships that go beyond the traditional parameters of collaboration. We follow several principles in this process. We seek out grassroots organizations that connect to the same communities and people we serve with our own programming, we look for an artistic product that expands what is already offered here on our campus without duplicating it, and we search for partners whose artistic product and mission can align with or enhance ours. The expression I often use to describe this last notion is that we build a “creative cauldron” on Magnolia Drive - that is, an environment in which artists interested in collaboration can cross paths and new and interesting things can happen.

What makes our partnership offer a bit different is that we give these artistic organizations a home on our campus: an office space along with some basic support and resources, at a significantly reduced monthly fee. We help them with the back-office structure that is often one of the greatest challenges to survival that a small organization may face. They excel in their artistic, mission-based efforts, but their physical office space is often in someone’s kitchen, spare bedroom, or basement. Maintaining an office presence, administrative support, and all that goes with it is sometimes the straw that breaks the camel’s back in such situations, and what we offer can lighten that weight for them.

The latest addition to our list of affiliated partners is Inlet Dance Theatre, which has been producing contemporary dance since its founding in 2001 and has established a solid reputation for a significant artistic product, with a true commitment to arts education and community development at its core. It is the brainchild of Artistic Director Bill Wade, formerly a faculty member at the Cleveland School of the Arts and founder of YARD - Youth At Risk Dancing, and the former Director of Footpath Dance Company. Here’s a portion of Inlet’s mission statement:

Inlet utilizes the art form of dance to bring about personal development in the lives of individuals through training and mentoring, and to speak creatively about life and the issues we all face.

Bill Wade backs that up with a commitment to bring his vision to neighborhoods in and around the city of Cleveland, and he has dedicated his artistic life to enhancing the lives of young people of our community who are at-risk and underserved. As he says on the company’s website, www.inletdance.org:

In a community where people are often used to further dance, Inlet Dance Theatre is committed to using dance to further people.

We are very excited to be the new home of Inlet Dance Theatre, and welcome Bill, his staff and his company to their new office on the second floor of Burke Mansion, right next to the offices of another affiliated partner, the Cleveland Chamber Symphony.

Joining the qualities of two or more organizations to strengthen a whole is not unlike the act of making music together. I was reminded recently of the power of that effort within the walls of our very own recital hall. On Sunday, June 6^th, our performing ensemble-in-residence, the Almeda Trio, performed their final concert of the season here in Lester Glick Recital Hall, concluding an excellent inaugural concert series which was generously sponsored in part this year by BNY Mellon. The trio consists of faculty members Robert Cassidy, Ida Mercer, and Cara Tweed. Their performance on June 6^th included an exhilarating blend of works from Robert Schumann, Paul Schoenfield, and Dmitri Shostakovich, and culminated what has been a terrific year of accomplishment and challenge for this group of faculty from The Music Settlement, who have, amazingly enough, been playing together for less than three years. While those who attended the concert raved about the trio’s keenness to embrace challenging and eclectic selections with such thrilling success, one should also be aware of all the effort and dedication that went into this and all of their performances to date. I thought I could best capture that by reproducing a letter in its entirety that the trio included in the event’s program to their audience:

Dear Friends-

With today's concert we conclude our first season as an ensemble-in-residence at The Music Settlement. It's been a busy year for us not only on this campus, but in the Cleveland area, with concerts at the Solon Center for the Arts, Cleveland State University, and educational concerts at numerous schools of Northeast Ohio. Our performance at CSU was broadcast live on WCLV, and we were featured guests on Around Noon with Dee Perry on WCPN. In mid-May we hosted a Chamber Music Invitational, at which student chamber ensembles performed and were coached by us. We also went beyond the Ohio state line, performing in Bloomington, Illinois and Indianapolis, Indiana, and played some "friend-raiser" house-concerts in February and May, which were great fun.

That describes our public presence. However, we thought our "behind the scenes" activities might be of interest to our audience as well, as they are what make it possible for these performances to take place. So, this year found us meeting for rehearsal every Tuesday and Thursday from 9:30 am till noon at The Music Settlement (and additionally in the weeks immediately before concerts). We studied piano trios by Beethoven, Copland, Mendelssohn, Piazzolla, Schoenfield, and Schumann, as well as maintained the works by Brahms, Haydn, and Shostakovitch that we had learned last season. Exploring these pieces together for five hours each week is a pretty thrilling experience. We have grown tremendously through this shared effort and feel so lucky to be making music together. As Philip Ball says in his book The Music Instinct: How Music Works and Why We Can't Do Without It, "Music is a mystery. It is unique to the human race: no other species produces elaborate sound for no particular reason. It has been, and remains, part of every known civilization on Earth ... It engages people's attention more comprehensively than almost anything else: scans show that when people listen to music, virtually every area of their brain becomes more active."

Thanks so much for your support. We are honored to be sharing this marvelous, intangible, uniquely human art form with you.

We are truly blessed to have such focused and talented faculty and musicians here at The Music Settlement. Please make an effort to catch the Almeda Trio’s 2010-11 season, beginning next fall at The Music Settlement, where great artists are gathering every day!

Have a great week!

In Flanders fields the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row.

2010-06-04T06:04:00.000-07:00

“In Flanders fields the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row.” John McCrae

Wasn’t that a great Memorial Day weekend we just had? I can’t remember when the weather was quite as enjoyable, as May slipped into June. Now those of you who know what a lousy memory I have may comment that you’re not surprised I can’t remember, since I barely can recall what I had for dinner yesterday let alone what the weather has been like on a certain weekend of any year. But the truth is that I have a special mnemonic device that keeps this weekend fresh in my mind through the years - muscle memory.

Every year since I don’t know when, my family has celebrated Memorial Day with a handful of rituals. Sure, we have a picnic and a gathering at the old homestead on Chautauqua Lake, and we even gather on Monday morning to watch the Bemus Point Memorial Day parade (don’t blink or you’ll miss it!), but there are a couple of other rituals that are less anticipated: taking down the storm windows and putting in the dock.

The less said about the storm windows, the better, except to mention that the process involves balancing on a shaky old ladder, manhandling crumbling old storm windows the size of a sports car, and enduring the sensation experienced when your life flashes before your eyes 14 times in one day. But this isn’t the real killer; that experience is reserved for putting in the dock.

Living on the lake requires having a dock. It’s as American as apple pie, and few places are more pleasant at the end of a long summer day than one-third of a football field stretching out over the water. However, like sausage making, the installation of the dock is a sight best left unseen. First of all, the sections of the dock are all back-breakingly heavy, the lakeshore is foot-breakingly rocky, and the water in late May is inevitably a spirit-breaking few degrees above freezing. I promise myself three things after I help complete the task each year: that before next year I will buy a wetsuit, hand off the really brutal jobs to the next generation, and plan to take out the dock in the fall in a systematic and easily replicated fashion. Then the pages of the calendar turn, another May rolls around and I find myself doing the heavy lifting, unable to figure out which section goes next and feeling numb from my chest down as my leaky waders slosh with icy water. Maybe this is just the inevitability of the human experience, but so often this is what first comes to mind when I think of Memorial Day.

But in the last 20 years or so, my point of view has broadened beyond my own narrow definitions. As a youth, I was growing up in a country struggling with a very unpopular war and that seemed to have no idea how to reconcile that with the sacrifice young men and women were making far overseas in our name. As I watched the Memorial Day parade in my 20’s, I admit that I didn’t connect the men at the front of the procession in their once well-fitted uniforms with their compatriots’ sacrifice through the years. I was the son of a World War II veteran and the friend and relative of several others who served in Korea and Viet Nam, but by the fortune of time, I did not face the option of national service myself. But as I grew older, the realization strengthened in me that they occupied a strata of humankind that deserved my highest level of respect. Whether or not you agreed with the reason a conflict started or intensified, the sacrifice others made for each of us was undeniable. Perhaps the fact that most cemented my growing respect for these individuals was that I was named after my mother’s cousin, who died in the service during World War II and is buried in France. In some small way he lives in me, and I am proud to bear witness to his legacy.

So when that parade comes my way each year, I stand and I applaud the folks up front, and I forget my aches and pains and disappointments and frustrations, and I say a quiet thanks for my cousin and all his fellow soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice.

But then they danced down the street like dingledodies

2010-05-24T12:01:00.001-07:00

“But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me…” Jack Kerouac

As Memorial Day looms on the horizon, a young (well, middle aged) man’s thoughts turn to… festivals! Anyone who knows me can confirm that I often write of my enthusiasm for public gatherings that center on the mutual celebration of creativity. These can range from functions that have art as their focus, such as Parade the Circle, to events that celebrate more esoteric arts, like horticulture at The Great Geauga County Fair. I always try to get to new events every year, dragging my family and friends to the full range of out-and-about activities that our incredibly eclectic region can offer.

This past weekend I added a new entry to my list; despite the fact that the event was celebrating its 41st year and that it happens only a couple of blocks from where I have worked for more than 12 years of my life: the Hessler Street Fair. I can’t explain why it’s taken me so long to get over to one of Cleveland’s most unique celebrations. I’ve been aware of it for more than 20 years, and each year pledge to go, but life gets in the way, I guess. The event reminded me of the old Coventry Road Street Fairs that I used to attend, as it was a true counter-culture experience in every way.

A couple of factors I look for in festivals are that they have a unique and definable theme and that they feature top-of-the-line people watching opportunities. In truth, county fairs, civic celebrations, and arts & crafts fairs tend to look alike after a while. There are only so many strung beads you can look at, funnel cakes you can eat, and bar bands you can hear before your eyes start to glaze over. This is definitely not the case with the two days in May that make up the Hessler Fair each year.

Let’s start with the theme, if it can be called such. The event celebrates a spontaneous gathering of like minds in a picturesque city neighborhood a generation ago. The themes you encounter include open mindedness, freedom of speech, and alternative approaches to food, clothing, transportation, politics, and everything else. The Fair even seems to encourage a sense of being part of an unplanned happening, even after all these years and despite the presence of a funnel cake stand. Some folks might argue that the event is a bit dated, targeting sensibilities and points of view that disappeared with bell bottoms and granny glasses, but I disagree. The two small blocks that make up the site were crowded with young people just starting to make their way in the world, and many of the issues and ideas being promoted or proclaimed were as pertinent as oil spills in the Gulf of Mexico or the right for individuals and organizations to disagree with current leadership. And hey, bell bottoms and tie dye are back in a big way anyhow.

But the real fun this past weekend was the people watching. In fact it was more like “people meeting” rather than people watching. The street is pretty narrow, and the day was very hot and sunny. If you want to get a sense of just what a broad mix of people makes up Northeast Ohio, this is the place to see it. A wonderful blend of inner city, near suburbs, and far-flung folks, the crowd (and it was packed) was as colorful and engaging as the clothes for sale in the booths. Many of them were accompanied by their dogs, which were as diverse as their owners: a mix of tiny to large, pure-bred to mongrel, and all of them friendly. You constantly heard the exclamations of folks who had just run into an old friend, a friend they may only see once a year, at this celebration. Many of the vendor booths featured folks from exotic locales or points of view as well, as proven by my step-daughter’s new henna tattoo running up her right wrist and arm. I must admit that the Hessler Street Fair wins the award for people watching, with more interesting people per square foot than any place I’ve yet experienced.

You would think that an event like this one - small quartered, somewhat politicized, and featuring a broad socio-economic mix of patrons - might feature an atmosphere that was either closed to the outsider or confrontational, but it was neither. In the parlance of the day, it was a true “love-in,” full of smiles and handshakes and embraces; a very welcoming trip back in time to remind us that “love is all you need” is not such a naïve sentiment after all.

I would be remiss if I did not take the opportunity to mention the passing of a great leader and patron of The Music Settlement and the arts in Northeast Ohio, Allan Zambie, who passed away last week. All of us who knew him recognized the dedication and energy that Allan brought to his role as a current member and former Chair of our Board of Directors. His voice was one of vision tempered by reason in the board room, and no one could question his love for the arts and music in particular. Though he was in failing health recently, he overcame great personal difficulty to keep his attendance active and his voice heard right up until the last month or so. The Music Settlement and much of the arts and culture community owe a great debt to Allan and we join together to say, “Safe journey and Godspeed, faithful servant” to this very special man.

We have met the enemy, and he is us

2010-05-13T11:56:00.000-07:00

“We have met the enemy, and he is us.” Walt Kelly

Someone recently brought to my attention an article found on Yahoo! the other day. Its headline was the “Ten Worst-Paying College Degrees,” and I thought, “Uh-oh, this could be bad.” Well, that’s an understatement. The ten worst degrees according to Payscale.com (that noted source of irrefutable truths) were, in order:

1. Social Work
2. Elementary Education
3. Theology
4. Music
5. Spanish
6. Horticulture
7. Education
8. Hospitality/ Tourism
9. Fine Arts
10. Theatre

My first thought was, “What, no philosophy or large animal husbandry?” No, actually, my first thought was “what a poor commentary on the priorities of this world we live in.” Now I know if I looked up the highest paying degrees, I would see many of the usual suspects, and I don’t pretend to begrudge these fields their worthiness, but must the caring and creative arts always land so far down the line? Is there really so little value placed by our society on the fields that most often have direct contact with our children and families? Must the most creative and empathic people in our culture be marginalized not only by their medium, but also their moola?

I want to make a stand right here in this blog and take issue with a few points in this report, the first being the idea that the economic strata assigned to those in the categories listed above are appropriate, market-driven, and reflect truth. What they really reflect are what the Hopi Indians of the southwest referred to as Koyaanisqatsi, translated roughly as “world out of balance.” They reflect a culture that seems bent on denying that it has any culture, that it places no value on those who enlighten, inspire, and advocate. To me, this data reflects a country where there is little effort to steer the best and the brightest to positions where the emphasis tends to be on interpersonal skills and empathy. Why would we assign less value to a person who educates our children than one who markets products to them? Why is a profession which profits from interpersonal conflict considered to be of more value than one which is dedicated to providing solutions to conflicts before they begin? Again, my point is not to disparage those professions, but to ask the question, “why?” World out of balance, indeed.

I work in arts education and have done so consistently for my entire adult life. Let’s see, that puts me in roughly five of the top ten categories above, and if you factor in my nearest family and closest friends, we’ve pretty much got all ten covered. Do my friends and family and I represent an unproductive subculture of our highly productive world? Far from it. Each of us brings value, joy, and hope to the lives of many, every day. Is it frustrating to do so in a context of receiving less in return? No doubt.

But this is not just a rant; there is more to this story, which leads to my second point. I am constantly asked by anxious parents to assure them that their children who have identified the arts and related nonprofit fields as their profession will either a) snap out of it soon and come to their senses, or b) discover that pot-o-gold that awaits the very fortunate few who transition from undervalued to uber-valued in these professions, despite the odds that are stacked against them. I take a different tack in answering them: I tell them that the opportunity their children have before them is to achieve a different kind of value - personal value. The unreported flip side of stories like “America’s Ten Worst-Paying Degrees” is “America’s Highest Self-Worth Professions.” When such reports are published, one after another lists many of the professions in the caring and curing arts as having some of the highest satisfaction levels measured, indicating that there really is more to work than just compensation, and could explain why many top business executives seek out volunteer opportunities or arts-related avocations in their “off-time.”

What does this tell us? It tells us that individually, we tend to choose the heart over the wallet. We derive true value and satisfaction from making a difference in the lives of others, not just from making a dollar. The real tragedy is that when the collective mind converges, somehow the wires get crossed. This doesn’t have to be the status quo; it begins with each of us. Support working artists and arts educators, public and private school teachers, and those who battle for a healthy social balance in our world. Don’t discourage young folks from pursuing important professions that happen to pay less than others. Instead, advocate for a society that bases its values more on the difference one makes. But also remember to back off on ranking the dollar as the ultimate measure of things. There really is more to life.

By the way, Koyaanisqatsi is also the title of a terrific dialogue-free movie that features the music of the composer Philip Glass, and which presents a truly moving photographic portrait of our cockeyed world. Check it out and be reminded of the eloquent voice of the arts in our upside-down world.

2010-04-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

“The human race is challenged more than ever before to demonstrate our mastery - not over nature but of ourselves.” Rachel Carson

I was very pleased to see the amount of attention and action that was generated by the celebration of Earth Day last week. When I think of the many efforts to identify and formalize national days devoted to a certain subject that have popped up in my lifetime, few rival the importance or long range impact of being good stewards of our blue planet.

I think we have all come a long way in our awareness of the difference each of us can make in taking better care of the earth. At The Music Settlement we have worked hard to be greener, with efforts that range from a shift to mostly electronic communication and information distribution, to replacing incandescent light bulbs with energy efficient fluorescent ones. But the change really starts with each of us, and it is requires diligence to change habits and ways of life.

When I look at the environmental movement from that personal perspective, I certainly see progress being made. As a youngster, I recall that my family often spent pleasant summer weekend days engaged in an activity known as the “Sunday drive,” a now-archaic effort that has been replaced by malls and DVD players and gas at nearly $4 a gallon, or so it seems. Now don’t get me wrong, aimlessly driving around the countryside in a carbon monoxide spewing old station wagon is hardly the best way to “go green,” unless of course you mean me sitting in the way back seat, sucking in fumes and getting green in the gills. But I distinctly remember that even if our drive took us out into the wilds of Cattaraugus County, NY (and that’s pretty wild), it would not be unusual to see lots of trash along the side of the road. I know this is hard to believe for some of you younger folks, but back then the average American treated the shoulder of the road as their own personal trash can. The unfortunate convergence of the fast food craze with the automobile really exacerbated this, by the way; cups and wrappers and napkins would find their way out the window and onto the flora without a second thought! Hard to believe now, isn’t it? At some level, the country’s relatively successful campaign against littering was one of the first real beachheads in the battle against pollution.

Nowadays, of course, we realize there is a lot more required for success than just the level of behavioral modification that resulted from the national Litter Bug campaign. If all we do is remember to bring in from the car the wrappers of our Big Mac and toss them in the trash can, it won’t be enough, to which the ever rising mountains of landfills across this country attest. Every one of us needs to change our habits and our lifestyles. If our conspicuous consumption is not altered, history tells us the result will not be pretty. Indeed, I was watching the history of the Earth Day movement on American Experience on PBS last week, and there was a revelatory message that hit home with me on several fronts.

If you happened to see the show, it featured first person interviews with many of the folks at the vanguard of the movement in the early seventies. Many of them were “hippy-dippy” counterculture folks with odd names and even odder dress codes, who nonetheless worked through the systems and the hearts of America to foster real change. They saw it as a higher calling and were spurred on by concerns and events that focused attention on the gathering evidence that our world was sending us an urgent SOS. Interestingly, many of the individuals also mentioned that a seminal moment in the movement was when Apollo 8 astronauts sent back to Earth the famous photo of Earthrise, the first image of our planet taken by man from outside its orbit. This life-changing artwork forever redefined our planet as finite - a small, fragile, dot in the celestial heavens, and one whose balance could easily and irreparably be upset.

This wasn’t the only reference in the PBS show to the central place of art in the story of mankind and the environment. A researcher who was one of the first to identify the threat of catastrophic climate change cited the example of other great cultures on our planet that appear to have fallen due to unwise environmental practices. As he rattled off the examples of Incan, Babylonian, Egyptian, Greek, and Roman civilizations, each was accompanied by a photo of all that remains of their glory: artworks, great and small. Those who look for irony in this life would be quick to note that art and culture not only inspire us to great things, but they also may be ultimately all that is left to tell of our passing. The rest of us can cling to the fact that great art represents truth that transcends and inspires; it’s something that raises our sights and opens our eyes when mere words and actions fall short. We just need to be open to the message.

Let’s hope that our new worldwide civilization can grasp the lessons contained in that photo of Earth before our legacy is one of silent structures and colossal statues to events long forgotten and buried in the sand. We should incorporate good stewardship of the planet into everything we do, making everyday Earth Day for our little blue dot in the universe.

Have a great week!

2010-04-20T11:46:00.000-07:00

“The history of an art is the history of masterwork, not of failures, or mediocrity.” Ezra Pound

The Music Settlement is in full celebration mode this month as we find ourselves surrounded by reminders of the impact we have made throughout our history on the people of our community. It’s an interesting alignment of the stars, because this time of year is traditionally when our students are presenting recitals and performances that exhibit their growth as musicians, and many of our faculty members are out performing as well.

There are many things for us to be really excited about as we move through the month. On Wednesday the 21st, a representation of instructors, staff, board members, and friends will join us in Columbus as we gather to support our beloved Director of Early Childhood Education, Sylvia Easley, when she will be awarded the Governor’s Award for the Arts in Arts Education. I wrote in detail about the OAC committee’s selection of Sylvia for this prestigious honor in a previous blog, but I want to spend a few more minutes on it because she has meant so much to so many people throughout her 44 years of service at The Music Settlement. It doesn’t matter where I go or who I talk to across the area, there will be someone in the crowd with a connection to Sylvia, and they always say the most wonderful things! She has been a key player in the early development of so many people, either through our programs or through her own advocacy, that she truly can be called one of the most influential people in Northeast Ohio over the past half century. That’s something to celebrate!

We also should raise a big cheer for our jazz faculty and students, who continue to reap accolades for their mastery of this unique American art form. Last week, piano faculty member Jackie Warren (who was chosen as “Best Keyboardist” by the readers of Cleveland Scene magazine this year), was a featured performer in the Women in Jazz concert at Mount Zion Church. Our Settlement Jazz Orchestra (SJO), Jazz @ The Music Settlement (J@MS) ensemble, and the Jazz Impact ensemble were featured prominently at the Tri-C JazzFest where they enjoyed master classes and blew the roof off in performance.

At The Cleveland Museum of Art (CMA) earlier this month, four members of our cello faculty were featured in the Viva & Gala series performance by renowned Finnish cellist Anssi Karttunen. Nick Diodore, Ida Mercer, Julie Meyers King, and Robert Nicholson made up four of the seven members of I Cellisti, the resident ensemble of the Cleveland Cello Society, which joined Mr. Karttunen in a truly magical evening of performance that ranged from J. S. Bach to Kaija Saariaho. It is our hope that we will continue to partner with CMA and the roster of international performing artists they bring in for their concert series as we launch our World Music curriculum this summer.

April and May are months in which many of our students perform in the culmination of a year of dedicated music study. Hardly an evening or weekend will go by without the sound of accomplishment ringing through the campus; it’s a sound I never get enough of! I guess it’s particularly fitting that April is the month that The Music Settlement was founded so long ago.

By the end of April, we will have begun our 98th year of providing meaningful personal experiences to our community through the joy of music. When Almeda Adams, an accomplished vocalist and educator who happened to be blind since the age of 6 months, founded The Cleveland Music School Settlement in 1912, she must have had future Aprils in mind - rooms and hallways full of music made by folks of all ages, on all manners of instruments and in all kinds of styles. Won’t you join in the fun?

Have a great week!

Busy as a one-armed man pasting on wallpaper

2010-04-08T07:28:00.000-07:00

“…Busy as a one-armed man… pasting on wallpaper.” O. Henry

Most people try to plan their lives so that the pace they create is bearable and the demands on their time and productivity are balanced and reasonable - but not me. When most families decide to schedule a major vacation during their kid’s spring break from school, logic would suggest that they clear the decks up until departure time to allow for appropriate planning and preparation. You put in a solid period of work at the office and at home that allows you to feel like you’re on top of things before you whirl away to vacationland. You leave your nights and weekends leading up to the trip in the family “truckster” free for itinerary planning, packing, and calm periods of reflection and meditation - but not me! Instead, I filled the 11 days leading up to this spring’s halcyon holiday with nonstop events and activities that left me barely packed as we headed out the door.

First, there was the wedding thing. Now, please don’t get me wrong: your son’s wedding is a blessed, life-altering event, but it does require a bit of your time and energy. It was a beautiful event that perfectly reflected their thoughtful and fun-loving personalities, but like all family weddings, it absorbed all the attention and energy of those around it like a giant sponge. A great time was had by all, but when I woke up the following day I was startled to remember that I had agreed to report for duty that afternoon to judge short subject films for the Cleveland International Film Festival (CIFF) for the next eight days straight! Just to make sure we weren’t too comfortable, we had also agreed to take care of my son’s dog (Atlas, the 100 lb. Labrador retriever) for the next five days while the wedded couple enjoyed their honeymoon.

So, to recap: that’s three days, one wedding, a house full of relatives, a very large black dog on the way, and eight straight days in the dark coming right around the corner…

In the interest of fairness, I need to state the following: Atlas is an absolute sweetheart. He’s a very smart (one might even say devious), somewhat overweight (one might say fat), happy older dog that was rescued by two very loving people who adore him, and so do we. He also gets along famously with our greyhound, also a rescued pup of older vintage, the two are inseparable. The challenge is that they are both large dogs, they both shed like the dickens (we went through two or three lint rollers in a week), and - in the words of my wife - “Atlas is a world class opportunist.” Under no circumstances do you leave him unsupervised within the vicinity of anything that can be interpreted as food. Likewise, be aware of his uncanny ability to choose a moment when all are distracted to sneak away and surprise us all with a surprisingly light-footed leap onto any nearby piece of upholstered furniture. And I’m not going to even get into the slobbering issue (ick!). Needless to say, the old boy kept us on our toes, but we were smiling the whole time, because like any dog worth his kibble, he is truly a charming rogue.

But who was I to complain? For most of Atlas’s time with us I merely walked him in the morning (two big dogs was a handful) and patted his big old head at the end of the night as I stumbled in from watching shorts at CIFF. The rest of my week consisted of working at The Music Settlement until 4pm or so, and then racing downtown to watch seven to eight short films a night and maybe another full length flick or two. If you’ve read this message before, you know what a great fan I am of CIFF, but this year I had an insider’s glimpse of the process like never before. The crowds were larger than ever (more than 71,000 attended!), and they screened more films than ever (300 plus), but it still ran like clockwork. I, however, ran more like a clock that needed new batteries. By the time the weekend rolled around, I was watching an average of nine individual films a day, counting shorts; still small change for a CIFF veteran!

To recap again: by the end of the week from Hades, wedding a distant memory, relatives shipped off to wherever, dog gone (doggone?), home chores and duties neglected, more than 100 movies seen, nine awards given to shorts, no packing done, no idea what day or time it was, and a plane to catch.

I then rise from the ashes and search everywhere for the shorts and polo shirts I hadn’t seen since Labor Day and throw it all in a suitcase and prepare myself for six days in the theme parks of Orlando, Florida (yippee?). Surprisingly, I take everything I need and things are absolutely fantastic in the world of Disney, where “magic” isn’t just a word, it’s the law. But there is no doubt I have some overlaps from the hectic days before heading to the sunshine, such as the gnawing sense that, like a good CIFF judge, I should be scoring the Muppets in 3-D movie for content and character development, and the strange compulsion to yell at Pluto when he sits in a chair during the Breakfast with the Characters event. I even end up running into my sister and her husband at the Hollywood Studios theme park (won’t those pesky relatives ever leave?). But the really odd part is that the whole crazy 14 days will forever make up some of the very best moments I will ever experience, and also some of the craziest.

To recap one more time: 18 days, one son married, one daughter-in-law gained, one dog watched like a hawk, dozens of flicks seen and miles driven, hundreds of theme park miles walked, tons of photos taken, millions of smiles logged. But I wouldn’t trade any of it for a billion dollars!

It’s good to be back- Have a great week!

It is at the movies that the only absolutely modern mystery is celebrated

2010-03-16T13:56:00.000-07:00

“It is at the movies that the only absolutely modern mystery is celebrated.” Andre Breton

The sudden turn for the beautiful in our weather notwithstanding, I have a great idea for an indoor activity to help you round out your late winter in proper style. And if you happen to find time to get out and about in the process, by all means take advantage of this balmy turn of events.

The sudden onset of pleasant weather brings to mind for me the spring of 1978, the year that will always resonate with folks here as the year of the big blizzard. That winter was unrelenting and life-threatening in the northeast, with the one-two punch of two straight winters of brutal conditions and record-breaking snow accumulation. But just when we couldn’t seem to take it anymore, a curtain lifted and spring came on like gang busters! From April on, we went into the hottest, driest summer I can remember, with the grass turning brown in early July and staying that way through September. So who knows, maybe this will be the year when all our suffering is erased by waves of sun and fun, and we remember again why the heck we would want to live here in the first place.

While you’re waiting for the good weather to take hold, don’t forget that next Thursday is the beginning of the Cleveland International Film Festival! This yearly celebration of all things cinematic has become a major force in the movie industry world-wide. After attracting more than 66,000 participants last year, generating more than $3.1 million in revenue, and increasing their attendance by more than 23% from the record-breaking previous year, CIFF looks to reach even greater heights this month. The Festival opens with a gala on March 18^th, and continues with day-long features at Tower City Cinemas through the 28^th. Featured will be a vast array of local, national, and international films in a variety of genres including shorts, animated films, documentaries, commercials, and feature length film that are either enjoying their first run in our region or are world premieres. If you enjoyed last week’s Oscar presentations, you’ll be pleased to know that CIFF now has a hand in helping to identify short subject movies for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences. We may find a flick that premiered in Cleveland winning the Academy award soon!

If you go to the Film Festival, please try to find the time to see Soundtrack for a Revolution, this year’s film sponsored by The Music Settlement. It tells the story of the indelible link between the protest songs of the 1950’s and 60’s to the American civil rights movement. It includes interviews with the people who were at the center of the movement as well as archival footage of the period that ranges from the uplifting to the brutal, portraying the transformative power of music in our daily existence. While it includes some harrowingly frank imagery of the period, it centers on an uplifting legacy that resonates in our music and our lives to this day. The movie shows on Friday, March 26^th at 9:35pm, and Saturday, March 27^th, at 4:40 pm. Please find the time to see this important documentary.

One of the other great aspects of CIFF is that for a two week period, much of downtown is really alive and kicking! There are crowds in the restaurants and at Tower City, and you can get a real feel for the potential that could exist with a truly vital downtown. Throw in a Cavs game or a concert at “The Q” and things get positively crowded downtown. Make time for you and your loved ones to enjoy some of Cleveland’s number one winter arts & culture happening!

While I’m at it, I want to remind you that Cleveland’s number one summer arts & culture happening is right around the corner: save the date for the 12^th of June for Parade the Circle, our very own people-powered celebration of creativity. I’ll bring you more details in a later message, but it’s not too early to step up to volunteer with The Music Settlement that day. We are seeking individuals who can help us in our activities tent where we encourage folks of all ages to try out a variety of instruments that we provide. It’s a lot of fun and a great way to introduce the joy of music into people’s lives. If you’re interested, please contact Rob Bruder at rbruder@themusicsettlement.org .

I hope to see you in the crowds real soon.

Have a great week!

Citius, Altius, Fortius

2010-02-24T13:43:00.001-08:00

“Citius, Altius, Fortius” (“Faster, Higher, Stronger”) - Olympic Motto, Father Henri Martin Didon

Yes, I am an Olympics junkie. I have been in Nirvana for the last two weeks as I revisit the wonders of the Nordic combined, half-pipe, skeleton, short program, and best of all - curling! I am perfectly willing to sit glassy-eyed in front of the tube, evening after evening, breathlessly waiting for the big hill ski jumper from Kazakhstan to hit his telemark landing on his third and final jump to the roar of a crowd of, say, 50 to 60 very cold spectators.

Equally odd is that the rest of the time, I wouldn’t be caught dead watching a couple ice dancing to the music of Love Story, dressed in something out of John Phillip Sousa’s worst nightmare. I couldn’t tell you who the reigning world champion is in any sport requiring snow or ice, let alone who is America’s best at anything remotely related to winter sports and skin tight sequined suits. I can tell you, however, where this odd, every-four-year obsession of mine originated from: the convergence of a world-wide sports event with that great world-wide media, television.

I was 11 years old in 1968 - a pretty memorable year for many folks, but on a personal level it was the year I discovered two gloriously flawed cultural icons in my life: The Olympics and color television!!!

Now don’t get me wrong, I didn’t grow up in a cave; a television was part of my consciousness almost as far back as I can remember. I can still see John F. Kennedy’s funeral and The Beatles on Ed Sullivan as clearly as anything, but for me, those images will be forever etched in black and white. I grew up in a black and white world as far as media was concerned, with the exception of the glorious full color of Life Magazine every Friday, so I suppose pageantry and pomp and hoopla would always leave me a bit cold. But sometime in the fall of 1967 my neighbors got the most magnificent machine I had every beheld - a Zenith (I still remember the brand!) color TV! It was about the size of a davenport, as I recall, and featured lots of cabinetry and knobs and fabric, and took about ten minutes to warm up, BUT IT WAS A COLOR TV! I worked hard to find excuses to hang around and get a glimpse of the Holy Grail-like appliance, but back then children were expected to be able to occupy themselves without the electronic babysitter, and besides, there was that issue of the radiation from the color tube cooking your eyeballs to little cinders if you watched for more than a few minutes at a time. Watching color TV for more than, say, an hour at a time was considered to be just one step below staring at the noontime sun. Then it would be, “Outside, kids! It’s only 20-below out there, it’s good for you!” Plus the networks hadn’t really gotten programming for 11 year old boys down yet. Kid’s shows were lame and parents tended to dominate primetime with junk like Gunsmoke, and Father Knows Best…yuck!

But as February rolled around that year, my neighbors told my parents that they were going out of town for the unheard-of span of two weeks - and they needed my brother and I to “check on the house and the pets while we’re gone, and if they want to watch a little of the TV, that’s OK too….” Needless to say, we jumped at the idea, and a few days later we were ensconced on their couch in full winter gear (the neighbors insisted the heat be kept very low during their absence), watching Charles de Gaulle preside over the opening ceremonies of the 1968 Winter Olympic Games from Grenoble, France in living (if somewhat fuzzy) color. Over the next week or so, we thrilled to the heroics of Jean-Claude Killy in alpine skiing and were smitten with figure skater Peggy Fleming, who won America’s only gold medal. Apparently we weren’t the only ones who were swept up by the 1968 Winter Olympics, because the combination of the first satellite broadcast of a live sports event and the first color broadcast of an Olympics has been identified by scholars as the beginning of the world’s infatuation with all things Olympic.

All I know is that, from that moment on, my brother and I were hooked. Unexpectedly, the Olympics have provided me with life lessons ever since, and while not all of them have been pleasant, they have been important. Tommy Smith and John Carlos’s black power salute during the medal ceremony that very summer in Mexico City would raise my awareness of issues regarding race and human rights. In 1972, my brother and I sat in stunned horror as the terrorist age dawned on live TV in Munich. In 1980, I vividly remember trying to tune in the USA vs. Russia hockey game on the AM radio in my old Ford Maverick while driving in central Ohio on a snowy night. I rounded a hill and picked up the last few minutes of the biggest victory of what would become the “Miracle on Ice.” Politics reached frenzied levels in the 1980 and ‘84 Olympics, when boycotting seemed to be all the rage and became something I could only lament as a great concept dragged into the mud. The non-sport related happenings have continued, but they don’t tarnish the central concept for me. Now I know that at some level the Olympics are certainly political, and that I often measured great triumphs and disappointments in terms of whether we won or lost. But that boy in me who was thrilled in 1968 still likes to believe in the principle at the heart of it all - competing together as brothers and sisters regardless of language or cultural barriers - and I still stop what’s going on in my world to take it all in. I still see it in all its bright and shining colors.

Have a great week!

Follow Your Bliss

2010-02-15T12:17:00.001-08:00

I want to take the time today to pay tribute to a life well lived.

I haven’t figured out the great big questions of life just yet during my tour on the planet, but one thing I think provides a true measure of a person is how many lives have been impacted by them for the better, and how deeply they cared about others. Our world lost a person last week who embodied that concept - a quiet man who made an impression with his deeds more than his words, and with his passion even more than his works. His name was Greg Stiles.

I knew Greg only peripherally; his youngest daughter and my stepdaughter are best friends, but he certainly made an impression on me. He was a big bear of a man with a flowing ponytail who struck you as a person who did not suffer fools gladly, and who clearly was a leader who had his feet solidly on the ground. Many of you may know him through his two professions, both of which he approached passionately: teaching and music.

Greg taught science at the Cleveland School of the Arts, where he was known as a no-nonsense, “old school” kind of guy, who nonetheless cared deeply for his students and their welfare. He expected a lot from those who entered his classroom, but they knew that he would return their commitment back to them threefold if they were up to the task. At his memorial service last Saturday, one student after another spoke of the influence he brought to their lives, and how his legacy lived in them still. He expected every student to be the best they could be and didn’t tolerate a half-effort. Not surprisingly, the students who embraced his approach felt it to be a profound source of strength in their lives from that time on. What better lesson could a teacher give than that?

But Greg’s real passion was music. He owned Heights Guitars on Lee Road in Cleveland Heights, and played in various bands and venues over the years, lately performing in a local bluegrass band. From testimonies provided during the service, it was clear that Greg’s true voice was music; it’s when he was most eloquent and pure, and the medium through which folks could best read what was going on in his mind and in his heart. He was rarely far from a guitar, as the candid family photos filling the room attested, and music was his pathway to grace.

What struck all of us at first was the tragedy of the story: a strong and vital man in his prime who was struck down by an illness, suffering a shockingly rapid decline and untimely passing. A family and large group of friends were left with little time to prepare for the silencing of his voice. But what we all began to comprehend over the weekend is that Greg led a life on his own terms, in his own way and at full speed ahead, but it was a life that he opened up to so many others in such a generous way. Think about it: he chose to engage the world in entirely unselfish ways. He was a teacher, giving of himself tirelessly for years to an unending line of young folks who really needed to know that there were adults who expected great things of them and who didn’t just phone it in year after year. He was a teacher who challenged them and then rewarded them as they blossomed. He was a true mentor, the kind that changes a person’s life forever. He was also a musician and a performer, who attracted a wide circle of fellow musicians seeking him out for both performances and conversations, and for the fellowship that is shared by creative people banding together to make something much greater than the range of their individual talents. His store became a Mecca for those seeking to understand the creative process, the complexities of chord progressions, or the meaning of life. They’re really all the same thing, don’t you think?

Greg spent his life reaching out to people in the most personal way, through expression, expectation, and sharing, and so many people received what he gave. His life was relatively short, yes, that can’t be denied. But it was full of joys, and it was lived on his terms. He filled it daily with the joy of music, family, learning, and full-out living. We all can understand, admire, and even envy the life he lived, but we can also learn from it.

Share your gifts with those you love and with those around you; be quiet and listen to the melodies of this crazy world, and then join in the harmony with everything you’ve got.

Godspeed, Greg, and thank you for the lessons. We will try to live up to them.

Have a great week!

I'll See You in the Funny Pages

2010-02-03T12:39:00.000-08:00

“I’ll see you in the funny pages!” Bugs Bunny

Happy Groundhog Day! No matter what that rascally woodchuck decides, let’s hope sunshine is on the way.

OK, it’s time for some pop culture. A couple of items came up in the news today that caught my eye. They are both topics that hold special places in my pantheon of personal preferences: movies and the funny pages.

Item #1 is the announcement of the Academy Award nominations today, inflated for 21^st century tastes, of course. I admit that I watch only one awards show each year: that glorious train-wreck, the Oscars. I have been known to sit glassy-eyed in front of the tube long into the night as all the rest of my clan have hit the sack and are snoring away. Now that the number of nominees for Best Picture has been doubled, the thought inspires worries that I’ll be staying up even later than usual to discover the soon-to-be-forgotten news of who won what this year. I wonder if they will add twice as many mini-tributes of nominated movies now, and allow space for significant face time for key actors from each flick to the evening as well? Maybe they’ll do the right thing and eliminate any production number nightmares from the proceedings to best keep within the four or so hour format. Honestly, it seems like presidential campaigns are finished faster than the Oscar broadcast, yet I’m still a sucker for them. What can I say? I’m a cinephile from way back. When you get right down to it, I really only have one real complaint about the event - bring back Billy Crystal as the host, please!

On to Item #2. There are folks out there that know of my addiction to the funnies, the comics, the daily cartoons. I was very fortunate as a child to enjoy one of the golden ages of the daily serial: Lil’ Abner, Gasoline Alley, Blondie, Wizard of Id, Beetle Bailey, Steve Canyon, Prince Valiant, Peanuts, and my favorite, Pogo, were just a few of the beautifully drawn, insightful and thought-provoking masterpieces of humor and drama that brightened a few minutes of every day. As my sons were growing up, I got to pass along the joy through some of my favorite funnies as well as new ones, such as Garfield, Fox Trot, The Far Side, Hagar the Horrible, and Jump Start, which were just as deserving of time and attention. For me, one of the truly exciting aspects of gaining stepdaughters has been that I can keep passing along the fun uninterrupted, thanks to Get Fuzzy, Pearls Before Swine, and Rhymes with Orange, right up to the arrival of grandchildren and so on, ad infinitum. I do not doubt that in doing so, I have helped improve literacy, imagination, and an ear for dialect in those I have read them to and with, and had a lot of fun along the way.

The item in the news that brought this to mind was a front page article in the Plain Dealer about the 15^th anniversary of the end of publication of one of the finest comic strips ever, the short-lived but magnificent Calvin & Hobbes, which is also one of several comic strips to be commemorated by the U.S. Postal Service with its own stamp later this year. Calvin & Hobbes was my sons’ absolute favorite strip - intelligent, thoughtful, self-effacing and artistically brilliant, and by a Northeast Ohio artist to boot! It was a black day in my house when Bill Watterson folded up his tent and quietly crept away, but the article in the PD shed new light for me on the situation. One thing he mentioned that particularly rang true was that he wanted to step away before he became stale and his work suffered in the eyes of his fans. That certainly has been the case in several comic strips over the years. The challenge of when to end such a personal expression is always a tough one, subject to much conjecture and second-guessing. It’s a struggle we all wrestle with to some degree.

Take me, for example. I started writing this weekly journal/blog a little over a year ago, and have enjoyed it immensely, but I recognize that the content has lately become a little less than I had hoped for in terms of interest and impact. It is with the wisdom of Bill Watterson in mind that I have decided to scale back my effort a bit to help strengthen the value of this message to you who choose to read it. Beginning with today’s installment, I am going to cut back to roughly two entries a month, issued as the spirit moves me, and with the value of your time in mind. I welcome suggestions and contributions to the content, and plan to continue to keep in contact with all who are interested in the goings on at The Music Settlement and beyond.

Thanks for your support, and have a great week!

2010-01-26T14:01:00.000-08:00

“Listen my children and you shall hear…” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This week I’ve decided to give equal time to an art form I really enjoy but never have written about in the past: poetry! I guess that isn’t surprising; it seems to me that while poetry is certainly a very ancient form of artistic expression, it often garners a relatively low level of attention these days. Maybe that stems from the personal nature of poetry, but that could be said of many individual artistic undertakings. It just seems to me that poetry is the National Hockey League of the art world - enjoying a rabid but limited fan base, and only to be found in the public eye when the other major sports are in hiatus.

But poetry can be found thriving throughout the world. You can experience it in its purest forms, in poetry “slams” for the young and in more traditional “readings” for those a little longer in the tooth. At a more subliminal level, it is woven throughout both high and popular culture, often disguised as lyrics, jingles, or prose, but the broad range of what is considered poetry allows for a lot of variations. To me, the pervasive nature of rhythmic, cadenced writing and speech is a paradox to the minimal amount of attention poetry receives in our own culture.

I have a theory -which is just that, a completely uninformed theory - but I think that the way many of us were introduced to poetry as children has had a less than beneficial impact on our appreciation for the medium. Think about it - sometime in the third or fourth grade, you are assigned to memorize The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere by Longfellow, a daunting task to be sure. You do seem to have some advantages going in: it’s narrative in nature, it’s a story from American history full of action and suspense, it features famous refrains such as “One if by land, and two if by sea…”, and it has a pretty basic rhyming structure. But it is really long, and was written a long time ago, and then there’s all that goofy language like muffled oars and belfry tower and, worst of all, Middlesex- everyone snickers when you say that. No wonder you approach the experience with mounting anxiety until you pass out during the fourth stanza from hyperventilation!

I think a better approach can be offered, and much of it starts way before the third or fourth grade. Filling children’s earliest years with poetry is easy, and it doesn’t have to be limited to the great standards like Green Eggs and Ham. Seek out and read to the very young selected works from the poetry of Lewis Carroll, Percy Bysshe Shelly, A.A. Milne, Langston Hughes, or other names from classic and modern literature. Their stories are often vivid and playful and intelligent and come across almost as music to young ears. Expose children to classes that infuse rhythm and cadence into contexts they can understand, such as movement or volume or group play. The Music Settlement offers several classes that offer just such an experience in our homegrown Music and Movement program, and in general Dalcroze instruction. Identify with a child’s natural inclination to alliteration and rhyme in their own speech patterns, and help them recognize it in others. There are plenty of examples of enthralling orators out there - folks who understand and display the characteristics of poetry in everyday language and voice modulation. One of my favorites is Muhammad Ali, whose street-wise banter in his prime always sounded completely unrehearsed and spontaneous.

From iambic pentameter to haiku, from Irving Berlin to hip-hop, from Abraham Lincoln to Barack Obama, poetry infuses life and pulses to the rhythm of our collective hearts. The world that waits the next generation might be scary enough. Let’s not rob it of its most eloquent voice.

Art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstone of our judgment

2010-01-21T11:14:00.000-08:00

“…Art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstone of our judgment.” John F. Kennedy

The arts are popping up all over the news these days, both locally and nationally. While the anxiety around our Cleveland Orchestra has died down for the moment, its example is hardly unique to Cleveland or even to America. Several large orchestras are facing similar challenges, and we are all aware of arts organizations, both large and small, that have had to make major sacrifices or are teetering on the brink of extinction. How is a concerned supporter/patron of the arts supposed to react to the ongoing issue of keeping our artistic and cultural heritage alive?

Some choose to decry that we are already on the path to ruin, or to claim an inevitable outcome: a community and nation bereft of original, time-honored, or expressive art. A world in which the vast majority is focused on pop culture geared towards a common denominator and indulging in offerings oriented for mass consumption, while only the ever-shrinking elite can afford and enjoy “high art”. This is a real Barbarians at the Gate mindset: an oft-cited example of the natural evolution of a truly open and free society, where all consumption is ultimately defined by the middle-focused masses. It’s used in tandem with a warning that we’re losing our way, and that in a world where American Idol is the ultimate definition of cultural expression, there’s no more room for Live from the Met.

I’m not ready to jump on the “end of the cultural world” bandwagon yet, however, just as I’m not going to say that everything’s fine and dandy in the creative world, thank you. To me, the key is to remain open to ever-changing definitions of what constitutes art while not abandoning that which has come before. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to grasp that every generation will demand some leeway to define its own tastes and preferences, and that it’s in the natural order of things for those preferences to reject some of what was favored in the past. But there is also some obligation on the part of those of us who are no longer on the cutting edge of cultural definition to be open to that rejection, and to understand that over time some of it will gain a whiff of legitimacy. I struggle with this concept as much as anyone: I could not necessarily tell you what defines gallery-worthy visual art in 2010, but I can explain in great detail why the works of Renoir are considered masterpieces.

I used to take a group of 3rd through 5th graders to the Cleveland Museum of Art each year as part of an art class, and I always ended my tour in the contemporary art section. Invariably during that part of the tour, the kids would ask, “Why is this painting good enough to be in the museum?” They had no traditional reference for judgment, such as,”it’s a good drawing”, or “it looks just like a horsey”. I would tell them to pick out one piece of art in the room that they liked and “tell me why.” Once they did this, I would say to the group, “We live in a time when YOU determine what a work of art is. If you like this painting, it’s a good painting, and if you don’t, then it’s not.” Simplistic, yes, but it also gets to the message of our times. Contemporary art is often about a visceral connection, linked to color and method and composition that forego literal subjects or images. If it stirs you in some way, even if it agitates or puts you off balance, it can be considered successful.

Each of us has a vast amount of information at our fingertips to better comprehend creative efforts, and we also have a tremendous amount of control over what we choose to patronize or ignore. If the concept of Cleveland losing its orchestra bothers you, yet you have never attended a concert or performance, you are not exercising your power to influence the outcome. If you lament that pot-boiler, episodic, shallow thrillers are replacing great literature, look for the new works of authors who challenge and bedevil their readers. Better yet, take your children to a chamber music concert, or read to them from Wind in the Willows, or Rabbit Hill. I believe this world has room for both American Gothic and American Idol, but that there will always be a little effort expected from each of us to explore and celebrate the difference. Take some time this leaden winter to get the lead out and discover what YOU like.

Speaking of the Cleveland Museum of Art, I have a bit of Music Settlement news from one of our very active faculty members, Ida Mercer, Chair of Strings in the Department of Music. She writes: The Music Settlement Cello Ensemble made its debut at the Cleveland Museum of Art Monday as part of their Martin Luther King Day events. I was SO very proud of them! They played twice through their 30-minute set at a high level and with lots of energy and focus (my favorite combination). And the CMA was literally flooded with people. It was exciting for the kids to be part of such a populated affair.

Excitement, high energy, and a crowd of people - sounds like real art is happening!

If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant

2010-01-12T08:58:00.000-08:00

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.” Anne Bradstreet

Is cabin fever beginning to set in? Despite just recently having some time off for the holidays, do you find yourself furtively Googling tropical escapes when no one is looking? Do you regularly check the weather forecast for Honolulu and sigh longingly? Does it completely freak you out when you realize that we aren’t even half way through January yet? Well, join the club.

I read with surprise last week that the first two weeks of January are consistently the most wintery in Northeast Ohio. Right now is traditionally when we get the most snow and face the most challenging driving and walking conditions. This completely surprised me: isn’t February usually the cruelest month? In Cleveland, doesn’t March traditionally come in like a lion and go out like a Tyrannosaurus? Isn’t there a week or two within those two months where we always have to hunker down and hibernate, or take 30 minutes to wrap ourselves in 20 layers just to get the newspaper out from under the porch where it was thrown the night before? I guess our memories are wrong because apparently those months are officially harbingers of spring’s eminent arrival!

Well, maybe that’s simplifying things a bit, but the fact remains that we went from the last whispers of a really nice autumn and into the deep freeze of the wonderful white world of winter in a little over three weeks. No wonder we’re all a bit edgy - it’s like a curtain fell, and it’s a bleak and chilly curtain at that!

But don’t despair, for if there is one thing we Ohioans are good at, it’s making the best of things. Every week, our University Circle area brings opportunities galore, inside or out, to embrace this time of year in creative and unique ways. For those who enjoy sitting in the dark and traveling far away this month, The Cleveland Cinematheque, located on the campus of the Cleveland Institute of Art’s East Boulevard campus, features the unique vision of the reclusive filmmaker, Terrence Malick. He is best known for stunning visuals and quirky characters set in a historical context. He hasn’t made many movies, but Badlands(1974), and Days of Heaven (1978) are two of my favorites. Check out www.cia.edu/cinematheque.com for show times and ticket prices.

If you’re seeking something more physical, return to the simple joys of youth and visit The Rink at Wade Oval, University Circle Inc.’s great new skating rink located on Wade Oval between the Museum of Natural History and the Cleveland Botanical Gardens. The skating is free and skate rentals are only $3.00! You don’t need to worry about a heat spell either, as it’s a polymer-based skating surface (not that we’re going to see a heat wave anytime soon). Find out more at www.universitycircle.org .

Here at The Music Settlement this month, we have several offerings to lift you out of the winter blahs. If you are a musician, you really should consider getting out and joining us in one of our monthly open ensemble events called Musical Mix and Mingle, which allows you to join other musicians in themed ensemble activities for a pleasant afternoon. The next scheduled meeting date is February 21st from 1:30 to 4:30pm; the theme is Chamber Music and includes a participation fee of $20.00. Reservations are required: call (216) 421-5806, ext. 109 to get on the list. If you prefer to listen, on January 22nd at 7pm we feature our piano students playing Bach, Handel, Pachelbel and others on both piano and harpsichord in Baroque Fest!, or take in our awesome Suzuki students at their recital on January 29th at 6pm. Both recitals are free of charge. Our campus always has lots of fun happening, even in the depths of winter, so why don’t you drop by and warm up to the joy of music?

All I know is just what I read in the papers…

2010-01-05T12:05:00.000-08:00

As another decade dawns, I find that remarkably little has changed in my world to reflect this unstoppable march of time. My day and my week are made of routines that differ very little from five years ago, with the possible exception being that I rarely, if ever, use my land line telephone anymore. In fact, I don’t even know the number!

For the most part, I function just fine on 2005 mode, but I have been noticing (and fearing) a major shift on the horizon: the loss of my daily newspaper. You have to understand that I am a read-aholic; I need to indulge in the printed word at least three to four times a day. It goes something like this: wake up in the morning, walk the hound no matter what the weather, read the PD over breakfast, grunt sleepily at family members and trek off to the job. At lunchtime, hide away with some eats and whatever there is to read that’s handy. At bedtime, prop myself up with a few pillows, grab my latest book (The Steel Wave by Michael Shaara) and try to read without waking the spouse. Mr. Excitement, right?

Now, an essential piece of the routine outlined above (maybe THE essential piece) is the local newspaper. I’m a confessed newsie, but I have to read it in print - not on a monitor, Notebook, or a Kindle, but on good old cheap and greasy newsprint. I love the hassle of it…taking up half the table, knocking things over, losing my bagel under the Art & Leisure Section. I like to take my time, reading all from page A-1 all the way to G-12, enjoying the thrill of the hunt and the joy of discovery. Many are the times I have been late for something because I got caught up in an article on the capture of a giant squid in a far away sea, or reading the box score of yet another Indians loss, or checking out the latest exploits of Rat and Pig on Pearls Before Swine on the comics page. And don’t get me started on the crossword puzzles!

But I am not oblivious to the almost daily shrinking of both the text and the number of pages in the paper that is left in my front yard (or in my bushes, or on my roof) each morning by some mysterious pre-dawn visitor. Early in the week, when ad sales are low, the paper is barely thick enough to line a bird cage, let alone fill my brain with informational minutiae. Things get a little more promising as the week progresses, but today’s paper bears little resemblance even to the little local paper I enjoyed reading as a youth back in western New York. It will be a sad day indeed when it becomes impossible to support printing costs any longer and the real daily paper goes the way of the dodo.

I am saddened at the thought of what kind of world will be left behind when this is the case. Personally, I cannot imagine waking up to my laptop, silently scrolling my way through world, national, local and feature news. I know that I suffer from an information gap as a result of being a media dinosaur. I understand that while most everyone in the western world will know the timely details of some breaking story to the nth degree, I will probably just be made aware that there is a story. I’m fully aware that any weather forecast I may quote will be so horribly out of date as to be useless, and that I will have to wait two whole days to learn how well the orchestra played last night, but I’m OK with all that. For most of my life that kind of gap was perfectly acceptable, and life is a mystery anyway, so what’s the big fuss?

I’m trying not to sound like a cranky, Luddite geezer. I’m really not. I adapted to microwave ovens, I can adapt to anything. But in the meantime I will continue to bang the drum for the print media, and I will do my part to keep newspapers alive. And I will mourn deeply if they become a thing of the past. There is still great value in newspapers, magazines, and journals. If you feel the same, please continue your patronage of these media and their advertisers. There may still be life in the old rags yet!

Have a great week!

Children don’t read to find their identity… They still believe in good, the family, angels, devils, witches, goblins, logic, clarity, punctuation and

2009-12-22T06:18:00.000-08:00

This will be my last blog of 2009, and it’s hard for me to believe that I’ve been at this for a year now; do I really have that much to write about? I guess I have to let you be the judge of that…

The end of the year in the journalism world means you get to use up an issue or two highlighting predictions for the year ahead, so I thought I would take a shot at it as well, but with a little twist. Instead of trying to identify random occurrences that happen outside of our influence or control, how about I suggest actions we all can take that will have real impact over the year, decade, and century ahead? I’m sure you can add many more as well. So, here goes - some simple, personal things we can do to shape the year 2010.

What can we do in the year ahead to make this world a better place?

Devote significant time to the well being of the children around you. Provide good examples to them in areas that will allow them to work towards a better world as they grow up.

Show them responsible interactions with others, even those who make you see red on the road, cut ahead of you in line, or foul up your order at the checkout counter.
Instill in them the importance of understanding money and financial issues that go beyond accumulating the most you can regardless of your resources.
Give them a sense of personal responsibility for the world around them: help them question whether or not the quality of clothing is only defined by its label, the advertising budget, or the inflated price, and whether the conditions of manufacture were humane.
Help them decide where they stand on the state of our environment and whether its condition matters enough to make personal sacrifices.
Ask them questions about the world around them - its people, politics and history. True curiosity only comes when one seeks more than what they are comfortable with.
Reinforce literacy and self-learning: read to them, and make it something a little challenging. Talk with them about it, or better yet, listen to their ideas as they spring up - the joy of a book is that it is uniquely shaped by each reader and they get to say what’s what.
While you’re at it, let them read their favorite book to you. Close your eyes and remember the pleasure of hearing a story.

Lighten up! We’re all wound too tight nowadays, and I’m certainly no exception to this rule. Let go of the worry and go into glide mode. You’ll live longer and happier.

Try not to talk on your cell phone while driving. Period.
Turn off your cell phone when asked - don’t just set it to vibrate.
Don’t “catastrophize” everyday inconveniences - it doesn’t make them go away any faster.
Leave earlier for your appointments. You really cannot get there as fast as you think you can, even though you’ve been trying to for 25-plus years now.
Find things to do that require more than 20 minutes of your time: weed your garden, stop e-mailing and write a real letter, play a round of golf and don’t keep score.
Try watching one hour of TV without touching your remote. Betcha can’t do it!

Invite the arts into your life. It won’t hurt, I promise.

Visit museums, galleries, theatres and other assorted venues in any city that you visit. Take the time and treat yourself and those around you to the creative process.
Read a couple of the classics this year. Jane Austen will remind you of your in-laws, Chaucer will make you laugh, and Twain will surprise you with his modernity.
Support an arts institution beyond the price of admission with your dollars, time, or leadership. I’m not writing this to be self-serving; the world would have only popular culture if all we did was to pay the going price.
Try to see art in the making - attend open rehearsals, visit an artist’s studio, attend premieres of new work.
Find a creative outlet at home. Write a journal, paint furniture, sing with your Wii game, have a poetry reading night, make a home action-movie with your kids. Sounds corny? So what? No one is keeping score!

And last but not least, as I have mentioned again and again this past year, invite celebration into the lives of you and your loved ones - loud, messy, contagious celebration that is spontaneous and non-judgmental. Invite everyone to the dance, and let them pick the steps. It doesn’t have to be in honor of anything important, just make it happen. Let the music be loud, and the energy real, and don’t worry if it doesn’t turn out exactly the way you planned. Life rarely does. The next time the whole gang is together, hand out the noisemakers and get everyone up and out of their chairs and identify a couple of important landmarks from the past year and run out on the lawn and “let the wild rumpus begin!”

2010 can’t help but be memorable if we all just give it a try.

Have wonderful holidays!

Music is one of those things that make us feel a little less alone in the world

2009-12-15T13:04:00.000-08:00

As we near the end of another year and another decade (where do they go, anyway?), I want to take the time this week to remind everyone of the wonderful benefit we bring to our community through our offerings, staff and students. Let me cite some examples of recent happenings that reinforce the good work we do in our own unique way at The Music Settlement.

There are few experiences more moving than a roomful of children, ranging in age from preschooler to young adult, making beautiful music together. Last Saturday was one of those moments for The Music Settlement. It was then that our Suzuki Program and our Jazz Prep Program performed at Eaton Collection in Beachwood, as part of a week-long sponsorship opportunity with Northeastern Ohio’s Barnes & Noble bookstores.

The Suzuki group filled a section of the lobby with nearly fifty performers and an equal number of audience members, and featured nearly 90 minutes of selections ranging from the classical canon to holiday favorites. Nearly all of our Suzuki students in violin, viola, cello, and bass were represented. Each section and age group made contributions to the performance, with several pieces (notably Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star) played by the entire ensemble. It was quite a sight to see this group of children, aged from 5 to 17, playing beautiful music together with discipline and feeling. The Music Settlement’s Suzuki faculty is doing terrific work with their students and, as is traditional in the Suzuki Method, was also making great music that day as they played along with the group. My hat is off to Rachel Schultz-Zeithamel, Nicole Castleberry, Callista Koh, Rachel Bernstein, Kate Homer, Kim Lauritsen, Lisa Whitfield, Rei Sakurai-Cohen, and any other instructor who helped to make the day so special for everyone.

The Jazz Prep Progam combo wrapped up the day in their usual stellar style. Under the guidance of Eric Gould and Glenn Holmes, they mixed a variety of instrumentation around a selection of jazz classics that were delivered with their usual high level of musicianship and interpretation. The young people who have sharpened their talents through this relatively new program at The Music Settlement have become highly sought after to perform at various functions throughout our area. Catch them if you can!

One of The Music Settlement’s most distinguished faculty members, Ida Mercer, Chair of the Strings Department in our Department of Music, and founding member of the Almeda Trio, an ensemble-in-residence at The Music Settlement, was singled out for a very special honor this past week. She was awarded a $20,000 Creative Workforce Fellowship from Cuyahoga Arts and Culture, the cigarette tax-funded cultural arts initiative for Cuyahoga County. She was one of 20 individual artists chosen from an applicant pool of over 160 to receive the honor, which consists of undesignated support to be used to strengthen both her personal artistic vision and the region’s arts in general. All of us who know Ida are not surprised she received such a prestigious award. She embodies a life dedicated to the arts and to the creative possibilities inherent in self expression, collaboration, and experimentation. She has brought great energy and ideas to our campus, and infuses her individual art with an imagination and verve that captivates those of us who experience it. Bravo, Ida - this is a very well-deserved honor.

This is just a hint of the kind of value we provide every day in our efforts to spread the joy of a music-based educational or therapeutic experience. If you don’t already enjoy the benefit of our many talents, please join us in the new year ahead!

One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, 'What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?

2009-12-08T11:38:00.001-08:00

“One way to open your eyes is to ask yourself, 'What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?’” Rachel Carson

As I walked onto the campus of The Music Settlement today, I was startled to see a large red-tailed hawk sitting on the rearview mirror of a station wagon parked in our Mistletoe Drive parking lot. It allowed me to get to within about 10 feet of it, then made a casual leap to a low tree limb not 15 feet away. While this sighting was momentarily surprising, it occurred to me that it was far from unusual nowadays. Just yesterday, I saw a similar sized red-tail in my backyard in Cleveland Heights, hopefully taking care of a pesky chipmunk infestation for me. Now, many of the younger folks out there will be thinking to themselves at this point, “so what?” But therein lies the impact of this experience.

When I was young and growing up in the wilds of Western New York (this sounds like the opening to a Gilbert & Sullivan tune…), where there were more woods than houses and more open spaces than congestion, the sight of a hawk of any kind was rare. In truth, aside from skunks, raccoons and squirrels, nature seemed to be in distinct remission, not only in New York but across the country. In particular, there were few raptor-type birds aside from turkey buzzards circling in the sky overhead.

I distinctly remember a period in my 20’s when I began to notice signs of change. I remember vividly the shock of seeing a beaver building a dam in a water retention pond along the Southern Tier Expressway between Erie, Pennsylvania and Jamestown, New York. Zipping by at 60 mph, I would note the progress of its efforts and the change in the environment that ensued. I even stopped along the highway once to get a better look, hoping a highway patrol car didn’t sidle up and ask me what the heck I thought I was doing.

Since that time, I have paid close attention to the comeback of top-of-the-food-chain animals to the northeast, and have seen very encouraging signs. Common sightings of large birds of prey and a larger variety of songbirds, increases in sport fish species in lakes and rivers, and the uptick in bear, bobcat, and beaver populations give testimony to a reversal of a trend that is hard to deny. There is little doubt that efforts for environmental improvement, beginning with the Clean Air Act of 1970, have had a profound impact on our region and the country as a whole. Our area used to be known for high levels of ground and air pollution and biologically dead lakes and rivers, but things have begun to change, and the results are all around us.

Now, I know we have a long way to go environmentally and that, for some, the re-emergence of nature has meant deer eating their shrubs, beavers changing their drainage pathways and, worst of all, the appearance of coyotes in our area. But you can’t possibly argue that a barren, toxic, grey world is preferable. A more fully-populated animal environment in which to live is certainly a wonderful option, reminding us daily of our place in the greater scheme of things, and allowing us those breathtaking moments of observation and interaction which I, as a young person, thought were lost forever.

The campus of The Music Settlement was jumping this past Sunday as we pulled out all the stops to get the season off to a merry start during Holiday CircleFest, a joint effort by many of the institutions of University Circle that offers a free, fun day for families in the Circle. University Circle, Incorporated manages the event, and institutions like The Music Settlement offer programming, activities and experiences for drop-in visitors of all ages and interests who seek to “find themselves in the Circle”.

Here at The Music Settlement, we put together a schedule of programming that went from 1pm to 5:30pm, showcasing the awesome talents and imagination of our teaching staff and some special guests. I want to extend my thanks to all who helped make the day so special for our guest families and friends, including many staff and faculty members who took on new roles for the day - greeting and informing, directing and path finding (always a necessity on our campus). We couldn’t have done it without you!

Have a great week!

No house should ever be built on any hill or on anything. It should be of that hill, so hill and house could live together each the happier for the o

2009-12-01T11:47:00.000-08:00

While we were off for the Thanksgiving holiday, I ventured out among the hoards on "Black Friday" weekend, but not for any sales, and not at 5 in the morning! Instead, my wife and I paid a visit to the beautiful Laurel Highlands of southwestern Pennsylvania and visited one of my favorite places on earth - Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpiece, Fallingwater.

Fallingwater was built as a summer home for Edgar and Liliane Kaufmann and their son, Edgar Jr., on property they owned on Bear Run Creek, which they frequented as an escape from the rather oppressive industrial environment of their native Pittsburgh. They owned Kaufmann's department store - familiar to anyone who lived in our area and is now merged with Macy's. It must have come as a shock to the Kaufmanns when they first laid eyes on Wright's plans for the site; they had asked him to incorporate the vista of the 30-foot waterfalls on the property into the plan, but Wright took it a step further. Fitting perfectly with Wright's love for the synthesis of nature and design, he placed the home directly over the falls themselves!

His revolutionary approach was guided by his interest in incorporating the sound and the cooling nature of the waterfalls into the floor plan while building the structure using local materials and craftsmen (talk about a "green" approach to building!). Needless to say, the Kaufmanns were a bit put off by the concept, but to their credit they accepted it with little revision and lived on the site for almost thirty years. It was finished in 1936, a guesthouse was added in 1939, and it is preserved today in pristine condition, with much of the original furniture and artwork. In fact, it is the only publicly accessible original design by Wright that is preserved with its intended environment and interior completely intact.

Almost everyone knows the look of Fallingwater, with its emphasis on outdoor spaces enhanced by the use of gravity-defying cantilevers and the use of windows as walls in wide open floor plans that are designed to encourage residents to spend as much time as possible in the open air rather than in the somewhat cramped personal spaces. What you can't really understand without visiting it is the music-like presence of the sound of moving water throughout the space. Wright has created an aural masterpiece that one cannot help but find relaxing and meditative. In a time before the infusion of electronic stimulation and in a valley that was inaccessible to radio signals of the day, Fallingwater must have been the ultimate retreat and rejuvenation spot. It's no wonder that much of the wall space indoors is filled with bookshelves. If you add in the visual stimulus offered by the use of windows throughout the structure, it's almost like a temple to nature, with the entire focus on the gifts that are provided for us if we are quiet and wait with open ears and eyes.

As an added bonus, the few spaces that are taken up with natural stone walls rather than windows display original works by Pablo Picasso, Diego Rivera, and other famous artists of the period. The Kaufmann family felt it was critical that the art they selected for the house should remain for the public as well - a real treat for those of us who only get to see such works in the rarified air of a museum.

It's impossible to come away from Fallingwater without a sense of a time and a point of view lost to our modern world. Too often, the approach today is to make the structure the entire focus and to give little thought to a more holistic orientation. We build homes that feature "entertainment" in every room and sprawl across a landscape in a way that encourages us to stay indoors and pay little attention to our greater environment. I bet the first thing some folks think when seeing Wright's masterpiece is "the bedrooms are cramped, the living space is too open, and the pathways are too complicated." But step out on a patio, or open a window, or just sit quietly, and you'll get it. Nature is our original orchestra - it's a gift that can be given, but cannot truly be owned. But it sometimes takes real genius to point this out in such a sublime way.

I recommend you visit Fallingwater if you haven't already. It's less than a 4 hour drive from Cleveland, and there are many other wonders in the area to enjoy when you go, including another Frank Lloyd Wright house open to the public right up the street - Kentuck Knob. There is a great website you can visit to learn more - www.fallingwater.org. But don't forget to listen.

Sweet music’s melting fall, but sweeter yet the still small voice of gratitude.

2009-11-24T07:43:00.001-08:00

The end of November is rapidly approaching, which brings to mind several thoughts, not the least of which is trading leaf raking for snow shoveling.

The next thought that pops into my head, since it’s Thanksgiving week, is that I want to put in a plug for a concept that we all associate with this time of year, but that we don’t necessarily practice in our lives as much as we should - gratitude. Yes, we will gather together this week, surrounded by our respective bounties, be they food, fellowship, family, or friends, and we will find some moment or two to offer thanks with our words or actions or thoughts, but do we take the time to really be thankful? I believe thankfulness is learned behavior, and as such it is dependent on each of us to practice it and to pass it on to those around us. It goes beyond the act of an individual counting blessings or following a long-established tradition of perfunctory statements offered and quickly forgotten. Gratitude comes with recognition of the worth of everyone’s effort and the great good fortune we enjoy in this time and in this place.

We have so many great folks to be thankful for here at The Music Settlement, from the fantastic instructors and therapists who bring the joys of music into so many lives, to the administrative staff who provide excellent service and thoughtful information, to our outstanding maintenance crew who make our campus the most welcoming place it can be. I am thankful for their efforts every day. I’m sure the same applies to you in your life, and I urge you take this opportunity to spread the good karma around a bit.

In my opinion, there is never a case of too much thanks being offered, and this rule should apply to the whole gamut of opportunities life presents to us. Thank the people whose work is often taken for granted but makes our world better - people who clean and serve and repair, or those who deliver or prepare or haul away. Make sure that your thanks include spoken words, so that they know it’s not just an obligation. Thank the people in your world, your co-workers, your friends and your family; never take it for granted that they know what’s in your heart. Best of all, try to be someone who accepts the thanks of others graciously: don’t brush it off and say, “Oh, it’s nothing,” which negates the gratitude being offered and leads to it being offered less and less frequently. Let’s face it - in these challenging times, when we witness the rise of thoughtlessness, rudeness, and incivility every day in even the highest levels of discourse, a bit of thanks goes a long way.

Another thought that occurs to me as we approach the end of 2009 is the oddness of the decade that is coming to an end. I don’t mean the events or history that occurred during those years, but rather the way we pronounce the names of the years themselves! Here’s an example: I was born in 1957 - that’s nineteen fifty-seven to you and me, not nineteen hundred and fifty-seven. My step-daughter was born in 2001, which is two thousand and one to you and me, not twenty-o-one. Why do we make this spoken choice? Is it because of the influence of literature? In 1968, Arthur C. Clarke wrote the novelette (and later co-wrote the film), 2001: A Space Odyssey, which we universally pronounced “two thousand and one.” Did it set the tone? Or could it have some relation to the flow of speech, with “two thousand and one” being a more mellifluous choice than “twenty-o-one?” Or could it be related to the general queasiness we all seem to have with this odd decade, the aughts? We have had a hundred years to forget how polite speech described the first decade of each century; perhaps it’s not surprising that we seem to struggle with the right approach. Well, whatever the choice -you say twenty and I say two thousand - we are rapidly approaching the year 2010. Time to make up our minds already!

Well, enough about that. Whatever you find to be thankful for on this last Thanksgiving of the “0’s”, make sure to share your gratitude with all who deserve it, and they will thank you in return.

Peace, and have a great week!

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire

2009-11-18T06:54:00.000-08:00

We received great news late last week that, once you hear it, may not be so surprising to many of you. Sylvia Easley, the Director of our Department of Early Childhood Education, was selected from a very large list of nominees from all across Ohio to be honored with the Governor’s Award for the Arts in the category of Arts Education, which is presented by the Ohio Arts Council (OAC) and the Ohio Citizens for the Arts Foundation. This highly competitive award recognizes individuals and institutions in several categories that have made a significant and measurable difference in the lives of the people of Ohio through the arts, and will be presented by the Governor and representatives of the Ohio legislature at the annual Arts Day Luncheon in Columbus on April 21^st, 2010.

Those of us who have the privilege of working alongside Sylvia every day knew she had an excellent chance to win this prestigious award. First and foremost, her legacy is unsurpassed in this region. Starting in 1965, Sylvia has been at the forefront of the development of our world-class early childhood program. She recognized long before it became accepted practice that linking education and social development in the very young to a music and arts-based curriculum enhanced each child’s opportunity to succeed. “I remember lobbying for the expansion of our arts courses for children,” Sylvia says. “We began offering Dalcroze in the early 70’s and Music Explorers ten years later - two essential classes that reaffirm my belief that an early immersion in the arts is so very important to the cognitive and emotional development of young children.” Sylvia lead the effort to introduce full and half day preschool programs to our offerings in the early 1990’s, an unusual choice for a community arts institution, but the need to support working families aligned perfectly with The Music Settlement’s mission of service to the needs of the whole community.

But I think the reason Sylvia was chosen to receive such a high honor goes beyond the long list of achievements she has brought to our campus and region. I think that it is impossible to relate the story of her impact without focus on her finest attribute - her great and generous heart. Throughout the process of gathering information for Sylvia’s nomination - from compiling her biography to interviewing her co-workers and peers, and to reading the letters of support from others that were provided to the OAC - anecdotes abound that illuminate her positive influence. At the core of it all, she deeply cares about children, especially those just starting out on the path of life. Today, more than forty years later and even though she isn’t in the classroom anymore, she touches each young life daily and makes a difference in their future. For three generations and counting, she is the most special grandma of all!

Sylvia would correct me if I didn’t add one more quote from her: “I am very honored and humbled to receive this award, but it’s important to emphasize that the success of The Music Settlement’s Early Childhood programs is the result of the work of many people who believe in the power of music to shape lives.” Humility is clearly one of her assets as well. Congratulations, Sylvia , on this well-deserved honor!

I had the opportunity to attend a concert this past Sunday which marked the official debut of the Almeda Trio as our latest ensemble in residence. The trio, all of whom are faculty members of The Music Settlement, consists of Robert Cassidy on piano, Cara Tweed on violin, and Ida Mercer on cello. They presented a wonderfully performed and artistically challenging program that included the Trio in D Major (“Ghost” Trio) by Beethoven, the folk music-inspired Vitebsk by Aaron Copeland, and Trio No. 1in D Minor by Felix Mendelssohn. The selections highlighted each performer’s virtuosity and provided a stimulating balance for the listener. We are very proud to have the Almeda Trio in residence, and look forward to many more special listening moments in the future.

Can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?

2009-11-10T13:53:00.000-08:00

No one can deny that it’s been a rough week both nationally and here in Northeast Ohio. The news has been unrelenting, reporting the negative side of the human condition with little respite to allow for any sunshine to slip into our consciousness. To be truthful, it’s been hard to feel optimistic about our impact on this little blue and green world. But there is no doubt that compassion, caring, and fellowship still thrive all around us; they just don’t seem to make for good press when tragedies and inhumanity abound.

There are a couple of items in the news this week that are particularly apt examples of the better side of our collective nature. One is the 20^th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. The other has been flying a bit further under the radar with everything else going on, but one that’s near and dear to our hearts here at The Music Settlement - the 40^th anniversary of the premiere of Sesame Street, and the advent of the Children’s Television Workshop (now the Sesame Workshop).

Sesame Street, to me, is humankind at its very best. You can talk about Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling, or Beethoven’s 6^th Symphony, or Shakespeare’s Hamlet, but give me Big Bird and Cookie Monster every time. In my mind, there is no better example of the few impacting the welfare of many in a stimulating and creative way than the efforts of Joan Ganz Cooney, Carroll Spinney, Frank Oz, the late, great Jim Henson and company. For more than two generations now, they have been opening the minds of young and old alike to the lessons that can be learned from the world around us in the simplest terms possible.

But make no mistake - there is nothing simple about it. From day one, the creative geniuses behind (and literally under) the scenes created exacting work that appeared to be effortless. They made brave and innovative choices; they took the age-old villain of children, monsters, and made them lovable heroes. They set their happy world in a location considered by most people at the time to be anything but happy - an inner city neighborhood - and populated it with a broad array of ethnicities and ages, all of whom had the same problems, experiences, and joys as we did. Best of all, they infused every lesson and story with color, humor, and creativity. They passed on to many of us from an early age the joy of self-expression and used it to diffuse our youthful anxiety of learning concepts like math, reading, language, social justice and equality. It didn’t judge and it didn’t appeal to a narrow truth. It was brilliant and it was fun, and we all knew it implicitly from the first moment we saw it.

But there is more to the Sesame Street story. I had the opportunity a couple of years ago to see a wonderful documentary at The Cleveland Film Festival called The World According to Sesame Street, which shows a side of the Sesame Street story that few of us know. It relates the continuing efforts by the Sesame Workshop (SW), the parent company of Sesame Street, to create programming for children in countries torn apart by conflict and war that was custom designed for their own lives and realities. The SW folks are portrayed setting up shop in South Africa, Bangladesh, and Kosovo, and partnering with local artists and performers to create a children’s television show that regularly deals with the horrors of everyday life through sensitive and caring approaches. An example that remains vivid in my memory for its sensitivity and boldness was a featured Muppet character on the South African show named “Kami,” who was young, female, and HIV-positive. Imagine the powerful message this sent to children and communities in a region where HIV infection was widespread and those afflicted were shunned as modern lepers. It is a testament to SW’s sensitivity and vision that this character became the most popular Muppet on the show, beloved by millions. This is the legacy of a group of artists who are truly focused on changing things for the better, and starting the process with those who are most vulnerable - the very young. For me it is very special that the folks who showed such courage and vision 40 years ago are still doing so today and into the future. What a very special, sunny day it was on November 10^th, 1969, and what a debt we owe to those visionaries who made the magic happen.

By the way, don’t you think it is just the perfect cosmic tribute that the 40^th anniversary of the premiere of Sesame Street occurs on 11-10-09? The Count must be so proud…

Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest art of all the arts.

2009-11-03T09:50:00.000-08:00

“Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest art of all the arts.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

How often do you drive by one of the many great architectural treasures we have in northeast Ohio and not give it a second thought? Do you ever stop to think about or try to discover the story associated with that treasure? Do you know that it is these stories that help to define the uniqueness of our region - a region that some tend to downplay or disparage?

I have lived in the Cleveland area for over 28 years, more than half of my life now. I have lived on the east side of the city that entire time, and have used the Shoreway (Route 2) as my main corridor to the east and west. When I drive into the University Circle area, as I have done thousands of times over the years, I have always passed and noted the building known as the “Holy Oil Can,” the Epworth-Euclid Methodist Church. It’s a true landmark building in this area, perched on a rise of land overlooking Wade Lagoon and anchoring one end of Rockefeller Park on Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive. The copper roof, dating from the 1920’s, gives it a profile and identity unlike any other in our region and is the church’s most notable feature, but the structure also features graceful granite walls adorned with buttresses and sculpture. These elements combine to give it a sense of soaring height with a spire that seems to go on forever.

All of us know it by sight, as it sits on one of the busiest intersections in the city, and yet how many of us really take the time to appreciate it?

I had the occasion to attend a meeting in the church last week, and I anticipated it greatly. I was finally going to get inside the “oil can,” and I got there early so I could snoop around. What can I tell you? It’s a glorious interior, with soaring but austere stone walls reaching up to a beautifully vaulted ceiling with a lovely and arresting oculus that appears to open to the pure whiteness of the heavens. The only breaks in the walls are absolutely breathtaking stained glass windows, with the focus being a large rose window that evokes the cathedral at Chartres. As I walked in, the lights were very low and the organist was practicing a complicated melody on their very fine pipe organ, and it was sublime. I admit I would have skipped my meeting if I could have, and would have allowed my mind and body to drift up with the melody to the ceiling so high above.

When I finally rose and turned to exit the sanctuary, I was surprised to see eight or ten other folks lingering in the pews, enjoying the same moment - all there for the same meeting. One man turned to me as we hurried on to our obligation and said, “I have been passing by this place twice a day for 25 years, and I had never taken the time to walk inside.” I understood the feeling. Not only was I struck by the experience created by entering the building, I was also humbled by the craftsmanship and audacity of the builders of the space. I don’t think I am exaggerating in stating that the use of such skills is rare in contemporary construction. Don’t get me wrong - I love much of the work being done today, in which flights of fancy that were formerly impossible to realize can be manifested in structures like the Peter B. Lewis Building at Case Western Reserve University. But the art of the stone mason seems to be rarely evoked with such effect nowadays.

I work in a building that has a similar pedigree. The Burke Mansion, built in 1909 and the home of The Music Settlement since 1939, is a beautifully preserved, 44-room mansion from the “Millionaires’ Row” age of home building in Cleveland. It features ornate plaster ceilings and floating oak and walnut paneling throughout the first floor, and rich carving and decorative ornamentation throughout all three of its floors. Our employees and customers are privileged every day to be surrounded by the glory of the skills of fine carpenters, plasterers, and architects from 100 years ago. University Circle, and our street, Magnolia Drive, are blessed with many examples of the labor and imagination of artists trained in the old world secrets of their craft.

It’s mind-boggling that the historic buildings we currently enjoy represent only a small percentage of those that existed in this neighborhood during the golden era of 100 years ago. I urge you to find the time to check out the unique structures and places from times gone by that we so often take for granted around Cleveland. Visit the steamship William G. Mather, now part of the Great Lakes Science Center, to experience the big-shouldered history of manufacturing that’s tied to our own lake and river, or check out Gray’s Armory on Bolivar Road in downtown Cleveland, or the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Monument on Public Square (yes, you can go inside!) to find out more about Cleveland’s role in war and peace. Or better yet, take a stroll through Lakeview Cemetery off of Mayfield or Euclid Avenues and stop to gaze at the treasure that is the Wade Memorial Chapel, a wonderful little gem designed entirely by and featuring the glass and mosaic work of Louis Comfort Tiffany. This is just a taste of what lies out there; I’m sure many of you can add even more examples to the list. The key is to not just look, but to experience. The next time you drive by that building or park or garden for the 400th time, plan the time to stop and venture inside. You’ll be glad you did!

Have a great week,

o we’ll go no more a-roving, so late into the night

2009-10-27T14:10:00.001-07:00

Halloween has been one of my favorite holidays for as long as I can remember. First, I’ve always liked fall - the colors all around us, the smell of the leaves, and the change of the season. Then, for at least a little while, you enjoy the transition into a warmer wardrobe; shorts and t-shirts are put away and you dig out the boots that were last seen somewhere in the basement. Now, this gets a bit tedious by about February, but we northeast Ohioians are blessed with amnesia when it comes to the baggage that accompanies shorter, cooler days. But Halloween comes along at the best possible time, when summer’s memory is still with us and fall hasn’t yet slid into winter’s icy grip.

Alas, much of my abiding affection for All Hallows’ Eve is also based on a world that is no more - the smell of the burning pile of hickory leaves that my brother, my dad and I piled up each year and set aflame (dangerous air pollution); the thrill of spending three hours alone with my friends canvassing every possible house in town for goodies (dangerous lack of parental supervision); and the amazing individually hand-dipped candy apples that the kind-of-scary elderly lady down the street made for every kid brave enough to knock on her door (dangerously unsealed food samples). Please don’t get me wrong - I’m all for clean air and safe choices, but there is a part of me that misses that more innocent time.

What really set Halloween apart from many holidays for me, though, was one thing (and, to the surprise of those who know one of my greatest weaknesses, it wasn’t ending up with a bag full of chocolate). It was carving jack-o’-lanterns! This activity has always allowed free range to my creative side and was anticipated for weeks ahead. I learned from one of the best. My dad was a pumpkin-carving artiste, able to knock out a snaggle-toothed face straight from his imagination without using sketches or stencils (not that those existed back then…). I can still remember the one October when he handed me a pumpkin and a carving knife for the first time and trusted me to come out at the end with a reasonable facsimile of a ghoulish face and all of my fingers still intact (come to think of it, add this to the list of banned pleasures in the paragraph above!). From that point on, I planned each year to top the effort of the preceding fall with a pumpkin face that was scarier, goofier, or more surprising than the year before. This became quite challenging by the time I was an adult, so I resorted to carvings that resembled famous characters (Bert & Ernie, Jack Skellington, Garfield, etc.) or to topical symbols of the day. While the challenge of being freshly creative can be difficult, I still enjoy the process of “creating by taking away” that each Halloween pumpkin presents. Its one simple pleasure that continues to be enjoyed by children of all ages, and I highly recommend it.

In my Music Settlement spotlight this week, I want to mention another October tradition in our area: the S. Livingston Mather Scholarship Competition for Male Voice Students, which occurred on October 4th at Judson Manor. The competition awards cash prizes to full-time or part-time students who are enrolled in college-level studies towards a degree in music, and the judges this year included Hazel Zehner, our Chair of Vocal Studies in The Music Settlement’s Department of Music. Hazel brought this competition to my attention, highlighting the fact that participants came to Cleveland from all over the country, with winners representing The Curtis School of Music, The University of Cincinnati Conservatory of Music, The Oberlin Conservatory of Music, and Indiana University, among others. Hazel felt inspired, in spite of the challenging times we currently face, that there was a strong artistic and broad geographic representation of vocal students at the competition. She and I agree that the arts are still very much alive all around us, and the talent and dedication of those performers reinforce that perception in a very real way. I also want to emphasize the fact that it’s instructors like Hazel who engage our youth in vital arts experiences, providing the framework for their future impact. Her expertise and dedication are legendary here at The Music Settlement. She also gives more than her share, as is evidenced by activities such as judging the Mather Competition. She works hard every day to be a positive influence on young people through the arts, and we are very grateful for her for doing so.

Have a great week, and a Happy Halloween!

Children are like wet cement. Whatever falls on them makes an impression.

2009-10-20T09:12:00.001-07:00

I’ve noticed a ton of articles, stories, and reports lately about the growing lack of civility practiced in public discourse today. It’s impossible to deny the evidence - we see it every day, through every media outlet; even those who serve in our august bodies of governance seem to be unable to control their own incivility. Whether or not we are at a level of anger above and beyond any time in our collective history in this country may be debatable, but there is no doubt that vitriol is one of our most common exports right now.

I have no fresh insight into this unfortunate phenomenon, other than to say, regardless of your beliefs or point of view, that it’s always best to treat people fairly and with respect if you want to receive the same in return. My approach is to avoid those who spew froth at all ends of the spectrum and engage with all who approach our complicated world in a thoughtful and courteous way. I suspect the vast majority of you feel the same. I do not find hate entertaining, nor do I feel it is without consequence when it is linked to an individual’s opinion, and thus is protected speech.

One of the things that most concerns me about this issue is that it is natural for subsequent generations to build upon the excesses of those who came before, which leads one to worry about what the future may hold. We need to raise our children to respect and embrace reasoned debate; it is, after all, a principle on which our country was founded, but where is there room for others when you are standing (and speaking) for “absolute” right? We are burdening coming generations with quite enough right now; let’s set examples for interaction that we can be proud to pass on.

There are, in fact, many wonderful examples of positive efforts being made to prepare our children and our future for success. Here’s one that incorporates music into the mix.

I had the opportunity to attend the Ohio Music Educators Association’s (OMEA) High School Honors Event for District VII this weekend, which featured performances by an all-schools Honors Band, Jazz Ensemble and Honors Choir. The event brought together young people from 15 area high schools for just two days to form three outstanding ensembles, and to then perform challenging works with great results.

One of the real joys of music is also one of its greatest challenges: working with fellow musicians to perform in ensemble, blending sound and expression seamlessly and communicating at split-second intervals. When you see this process in action, especially in the context of the accelerated OMEA schedule, there is no doubt that studying music provides benefits far beyond personal artistic expression. Clearly you need a good work ethic and concentration skills, but you must also hone an ability to be both “in the moment” and skipping ahead at the same time. You have to discipline you mind to go beyond notes on a printed page and embrace the dynamic of those around you under the leadership of the conductor or director. It is not for the faint of heart, but like all such personal challenges, the reward is so much greater than the effort, and the effort is always worth the reward. The study and love of music helps a person grow and prepares them for success. It brings with it benefits both tangible and intangible - it is truly food for the soul.

I also wanted to thank the people who work so hard to make great events like the OMEA Honors Event come together. First of all, Tim Niederkorn, Brett Baker and Ben Richard, the chairs of the event, who worked tirelessly to ensure the best possible experience for all involved. Guest conductors Drs. Birch Browning, Scott Garlock, and Matthew L. Garrett artfully coaxed great sensitivity and expression from each of the ensembles; they truly seemed to be enjoying themselves on the dais, and their joy was echoed by their student musicians.

Finally, the greatest praise is reserved for the directors of each of the represented schools music programs who contributed so much to the preparation and participation of their students. These individuals, many of whom are carrying terrific workloads in light of continuing educational budget reductions, are the true heroes of the day. They give all they can to the benefit of their charges, and if they don’t nurture the talent, train the dynamics, and even sometimes drive the van, then none of the other efforts would matter. If you truly enjoy playing or listening to music, please thank a school music teacher.

Each of us should make every effort to provide examples like this one for future generations - working together, sharing ideas, listening and learning, open to the range of life’s lessons.

Have a great week!

“In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future.” Alex Haley

2009-10-13T10:51:00.000-07:00

I had the opportunity this past weekend to see relatives who I don’t get to see as regularly as I would like, since much of my family is spread fairly far and wide. We were helping my Aunt Jody move from the house she had lived in for 50 years or so into an apartment and, as you would imagine, such a task doesn’t happen in one day. Cousins and second cousins had spent countless hours going through a lifetime of stuff with my aunt, trying to winnow down the mass into a manageable amount that would fit in a much smaller place.

My sister was also there to help and took the opportunity to give me an envelope full of items that she had in her possession – in particular, some copies of my late father’s “V-Mail” to his parents in the later years of World War II during his service in Europe, documents which I had never seen before. “V-Mails” were sort of a of hybrid telegram that allowed a serviceman or woman to dash off a note to those at home in a relatively brief and informal manner, which was perfect for a soldier serving on the front lines under trying circumstances.

What struck me at first was their conversational nature: it was almost like my dad was chatting about the weather, except of course for the repeated use of words like “foxhole” and phrases like “artillery fire.” He clearly tried to avoid sending stressful messages home, but as the war progressed and he moved into close combat in Germany, it became harder for him to seem casual and carefree. More and more, his messages began to reflect a sergeant in the 3rd Infantry who didn’t know for sure what day it was or when he was going to get his next change of clothes, let alone fresh food.

What struck me next was how important it was to hold onto the little things that for him defined home and comfort. Before he was shifted into combat, he had used his artistic talents to work as an illustrator and sign maker for special services, and in his messages home, he never stopped looking at his situation with an artist’s eye. He noticed both the beauty of the countryside and the devastation that devoured it. He wrote about his fellow G.I.’s in descriptive and evocative words that made it easy to place yourself alongside him, even though his reality was inconceivable to those who weren’t experiencing it firsthand.

But most of all, he worked hard to keep his mother, father and sister’s hearts at ease. He constantly wrote about his concern for them, and even when writing from circumstances of great discomfort, he had a simple gift for shifting focus from himself to how the folks at home were holding up.

The most moving passage was only a few sentences in a single note. He had spent several nights in a foxhole in deep cold, eating K-rations and listing to the sound of heavy guns up ahead, and he realized that it was Easter when he heard the bells of a nearby town ringing out clear and true. He called it “the most unusual Easter I ever had & probably will ever have,” speculating that it was the first time the village had been able to ring church bells for Easter in a long time. By the end of the messages, V-E Day had come and gone, and he was relieved but worried about the possibility of being transferred to the war’s “other front,” the Pacific.

I come from large families on both my mother’s and father’s sides. My aunt is the last surviving member of her generation on my mother’s side, and my father was the last surviving male on his side. I treasure every moment I got to spend with all of them through the years, and yet am always surprised to discover that I know little about how they really lived. Completely by chance, my sister gave me my father’s V-Mail on what would have been his 92nd birthday. I can’t help but think that happened for a reason. Family folklore is our birthright; it is an art form to be treasured and nurtured, for it is so easily misplaced in our hectic world.

At The Music Settlement, we have been part of this community’s folklore for nearly 97 years, through four generations and counting. We continue to build on the vision of our founders and predecessors, to transform lives for the better. This evening, Tuesday, October 13th at 6:30pm, The Music Settlement is joining with the Cleveland Heights/ University Heights City School District and the Office of the Mayor of Cleveland Heights to host a community forum to discuss our ongoing plans to develop a comprehensive early childhood learning center at the site of the former Coventry Elementary School in Coventry Village. The forum is free and open to the public and will take place at the site of the elementary school at 2843 Washington Boulevard in Cleveland Heights. All are welcome!

We are expecting a great crowd for this meeting, which is the first in a planned series of forums aimed at offering the public a chance to become better informed and more deeply involved in what we know will be a major community development project for Coventry Village and our region. We hope to see you there!