So apparently, you can’t believe everything you read online after all.

Most performance notes found on the web of Herbert Howells’ Requiem (which the Oratorio Singers of Charlotte perform this Friday, February 25, 8:00 p.m. at Myers Park Baptist Church) relate the same tale of how Howells composed the eloquent and moving work in 1935 after the death of his young son, Michael. Poignant. Tragic. And yes, his son did pass away in 1935 at the too-young age of nine. Howells, though, had written Requiem three years earlier.

Herbert Howells, born in 1892, was regarded as something as a composing prodigy and upheld as one of the great hopes of English music. He had his share of troubles along the way, including his own near-death experience, the death of his son, and a sensitivity to criticism that caused him to stop writing for nearly a decade. In the end, though, he helped define and advance the voice of English classical music, particularly that of the Anglican church. He also provided us with the moving Requiem, a work full of texture, subtlety and emotional depth.

Howells shared a musical sensibility with Ralph Vaughan Williams. A September 1910 concert in Gloucester Cathedral included the premiere of a new work by the then little-known Vaughan Williams. Howells not only made the composer’s personal acquaintance that evening, but the piece, the Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis, profoundly moved him. Howells and Vaughan Williams met again, and after the First World War, their acquaintance deepened into a lasting friendship. Howells studied at the Royal College of Music under C.V. Stanford, Hubert Parry and Charles Wood. (Works by both Vaughan Williams and Wood are also featured in the Oratorio Singers program, as is a piece by the decidedly-non-British Johannes Brahms.)

In 1915, Howells was diagnosed with Graves’ disease and given six months to live. He became the first person in the country to receive radium treatment. His doctors had no idea how much to inject into Howell’s thyroid. They stopped treatments when his neck showed signs of radioactive burns. Howells lived for another 70 years.

Despite his prodigious compositional abilities, Howells was plagued by a disabling sensitivity to criticism. After a hostile reception to a performance of his second piano concerto in 1925, Howells simply stopped composing. By 1932, though, he had written Requiem, which was commissioned by King’s College, Cambridge. Howells never sent the completed work and Requiem remained unknown for nearly five decades. In the months after his son’s death three years later, Howells was unable to write. The following year, though, he used material from the previously unaccompanied Requiem to compose another work,  Hymnus Paradisi for soloists, chorus and orchestra.

So, how did the misconception about the Requiem develop? In 1980, an unreleased, undated Requiem for unaccompanied chorus was discovered. According to Dr. Robert Michael Istad, Associate Professor of Music at Cal-State Fullerton, who studied Howells for his doctoral dissertation, “It shared a significant musical connection with Hymnus Paradisi, which had first been performed in 1950. Howells, then elderly, indicated that this unreleased work was the inspiration for Hymnus Paradisi. The work immediately became popular throughout the choral community. Unfortunately, many assumed that the delayed release of Requiem indicated personal struggle and profound grief. Printed materials began to relay a connection between Requiem and Michael’s death as fact, and Howells was too ravaged by senility to engage in fruitful discussion.”

Herbert Howells Trust acknowledges that Howells wrote Requiem in 1932 and incorporated some of its material into Hymnus Paradisi, which he did complete in memory of his son in 1938. Mystery solved. But does the fact that Howells didn’t write this Requiem while grieving over his son’s death change the way we listen to it? Does the context of a composition change how we hear it? If, for example, we learned that Beethoven had his full hearing ability when he composed his Ninth Symphony, would that change our response to it? We like context. Our understanding of art is given meaning by our understanding of the artist. Besides, we just like to know where things come from, and if there is a good story behind it, so much the better.

In music, interestingly enough, this context serves us best when contemplating or discussing a work, but not when actually listening to it. When we listen, the music stands alone. During a live performance of a musical work, the composer, the context, and the story behind it all melt away and there remain only the performers, the music, and the listener. Further, if we as a chorus do our job well, even we “disappear” and what is left to the listener is simply the music. With Howell’s Requiem, what is left is a work of sheer beauty.

While rooted in the past traditions of English music, Howells was not afraid to experiment outside of traditional tonality. He did so to great effect in  Requiem. Like Faure’s Requiem, Howells’ is restrained—but it is richer harmonically with a rapt, almost hushed intensity and a more pointed sense of grief and loss. Only two movements use the traditional words of the Requiem as Verdi or Mozart employed them. The others are in English, based around Psalm texts. Throughout the work, Howells moves us between pleas on our own behalf and those for the ones who have gone before us.

Regardless of the context of its origins, Howells’ Requiem is ineffably beautiful. Mournful, pleading, and ultimately, dare we say it, hopeful—or at least peaceful—it is a work full of rich harmonic texture and immense emotional depth. We hope you will be able to come and hear it.

By Mary Catherine Rendleman Edwards

Last week, while driving home from work, I heard the L’Arlessiane Suite by George Bizet.  It took me back to the first time that I heard and played the piece with the Charlotte Youth Symphony (as the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra was called then).  The memories came flooding back.   I remember being enthralled with the huge sound of the full orchestra that I was part of: the beautiful flute solo wafting over my head, the mesmerizing harp arpeggios, and the brass in the fiery last movement that was so exciting.  I smiled as I drove, remembering how proud we were of that performance in 1965. 

Youth orchestra rehearsals were some of the best times of my high school years.  On Saturday mornings, my sister Ruth and I would join our carpool, which frequently included Ann Cooper (cellist) and Robert Allen, (bassoonist), on the ride over to Piedmont Jr. High (as it was called then) for weekly rehearsals.  Most teenagers looked forward to sleeping in on Saturdays, but we cherished the comradeship we developed with peers from our high school as well as others from across the region.  In those days, we enjoyed playing under the baton of Charlotte Symphony Music Director Richard Cormier.

Margaret Tait and her younger sister Kathryn drove up from Rock Hill, S.C. for the rehearsals.  I became friends with students from South Mecklenburg and Garinger High Schools, among others.  One time in the parking lot after the rehearsal we crammed a cello, a bassoon, a violin, a viola, a clarinet, and four people into a Volkswagen Bug – just to see if we could. (We did not attempt to drive home like that!)  It was always sad when the season came to a close with the last concert of the year. Many of us played during the summer, winning scholarships to Transylvania Music Camp, Governor’s School in Winston Salem, and Eastern Music Festival.  The North Carolina School for the Arts opened up, and quite a few Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra students migrated to Winston-Salem for the inaugural year in 1965, including my sister Ruth. 

Playing in the youth orchestra and hearing performances by the Charlotte Symphony, I became addicted to the sound of a full symphony orchestra, and it became my life for many years. This past Friday, I took all of my Eastway Middle School Orchestra members to a dress rehearsal of the Charlotte Symphony.  Today in class I asked them what their favorite part of the trip was, and one after the other in so many words said, “The sound of the orchestra” or “the loud parts when everybody was playing.”  I know what they felt.  There is nothing like it in this world.  Thank you, Charlotte Symphony for the inspiring performance!

A former Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra member, Mary Catherine Rendleman Edwards has enjoyed a carreer as a professional violinist for over forty years. She holds a Bachelor of Music from Boston University and a Master of Music from University of Michigan/Ann Arbor.  A Salisbury resident, she drives to Charlotte daily to teach orchestra at Eastway and McClintock Middle Schools.

Classical music critic Anthony Tommasini has got something crazy up his sleeve over at The New York Times. The blogger’s newest idea for a story is so daunting and controversial, its consequences could be catastrophic. It has the potential to, in fact, upset classical music aficionados worldwide.

Tommasini has recently announced that he is on a mission to name the 10 greatest composers of Western classical music. Anti-climactic? Hardly! At the end of the day, there must be a Number One to end every countdown. To construct a list leading up to the number one composer of Western classical music — now that is no easy feat.

Think about it. Is this even possible? Is the winner chosen based on the number of works they composed? Which is more revered – pioneering a new style, or being the master of an older one? Does Beethoven get extra points because he was deaf? Or is Mozart boosted to the front because of his child-prodigy status? Then there’s the issue of varying types of composition. For instance, how does one compare Wagner’s opera to the oratorio of Handel… and then determine the better composer?

Well Mr. Tommasini, I fully support your decision to compile this list. After all, everyone has a favorite piece by a favorite composer – what’s better than taking the time to really think about why that piece is special, and what it is about that composer that makes him/her stand above the rest? Exploring why you are passionate about something and coming to its defense can make you appreciate it even more.

Now before I make this bold statement, please keep in mind the following: I do not have a PhD in music. I am not a world-renowned conductor, composer, or performer. I hardly know enough about classical music to serve as a critic, or write a book on the subject. I do, however, have fond memories of listening to public radio on long car rides with my father as a child. I am a senior in an undergraduate music program, and survived a grueling year of the most feared course sequence in the curriculum – music history.

Based on these things, and my own personal opinion, I must say that my vote for Number One is Ludwig van Beethoven.

Let me begin by saying that I admire Beethoven’s unwavering passion for music. Beethoven stayed true to himself, composing music the way he saw fit, and never relinquishing artistic control to patrons or audiences. Music came from his heart and from his personal experiences. He experienced periods of both extreme darkness and triumph. I don’t just hear music when I listen to Beethoven, I hear his soul; it’s as if the composer is interwoven into every melodic line musical phrase. When I say this I don’t mean to take away from the god-like status he has been promoted to over the centuries, but I understand Beethoven on a more personal level. Human to human, we relate.

Like many other great composers, Beethoven altered the course of music history. His radical and revolutionary composition techniques aided in ushering in the Romantic Period. Beethoven broke from and expanded traditional musical forms, expanded instrumentation, and pushed performers of his music to the brink. He also had a knack for taking a theme and hiding it in a piece for the listener to experience again and again. Beethoven’s harmonic explorations keep audiences on the edge of their seats, and I for one particularly enjoy the unpredictable nature of his symphonies.

In fact, I will now take this moment to be completely cliché and acknowledge that my favorite Beethoven work is Symphony No. 9. Hey, it’s one of classical music’s greats for a reason! From the fiery first movement to the recitative of the cellos and basses that introduces the “Ode to Joy” theme in the low strings – I love every second of it.

I place Beethoven at the top for his innovativeness, passion, and ability (in my opinion) to have an impact on every composer that followed him. Who is your Beethoven? Who is it that, at the drop of a hat, you are able to say, “Now that is Western classical music’s greatest composer of all time!”? Join the debate. Write to me at intern1@charlottesymphony.org and let me know who you think should get that number one spot. After the Charlotte symphony music director reviews the responses, the winner will receive two tickets to a CSO concert of his or her choice and a backstage pass to meet Christopher Warren-Green! Deadline is January 20.

And don’t forget to follow Tommasini’s countdown on his ArtsBeat blog at http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/.

Liz Weger has come to Charlotte from Westerville, Ohio to serve as the Charlotte Symphony’s newest intern. A senior at Otterbein University, Liz is a music and public relations major. With a vocal concentration, Liz studies voice privately and is a member of the Otterbein Concert Choir – Otterbein’s most select vocal ensemble. She recently accompanied the choir on its tour to China, where students participated in joint-concerts with university students in Beijing, Tianjin, and Xi’an. In 2009, Liz was the education intern at ProMusica Chamber Orchestra in Columbus, and served on the orchestra’s student advisory board. Hoping to soon have a career in arts administration, Liz is thrilled to have the opportunity to experience the arts scene of Charlotte.

Creating music and listening to music are among the core activities that make us human. Every human culture has music. There is evidence that even the Neanderthals sang, and bone flutes, with multiple holes to play sophisticated scales, have been discovered and dated from 35,000 to 40,000 years old.

 Birds and whales sing; coyotes howl at the moon, but no animal’s music-making is as widespread, as complex, or as creative as humans’. And no animal’s music demonstrates the vast innovation that human music demonstrates.

Studies of music and the brain are on the cutting edge of neurological research. Questions of how our brains process music, how music impacts the human body and mind, and how much of our response to music is based on cultural upbringing have fascinated scientists and philosophers for centuries, but in the last decade, technological advances have created new opportunities for intense study.

Through sophisticated imaging technologies, it is now possible to actually see the brain at work as we listen to or create music. While scientists once believed that there was just one center in the brain for processing music, they now know that music is processed all over the brain, activating cells and neurons throughout our gray matter. We process melody with one part of the brain, for example, and harmony and rhythm with other parts. Engagement with music, in fact, is just about the most complicated mental activity that human beings do.

Music affects emotion, memory, motor control, attention, imagery, pattern perception, and learning. It also impacts our health. Because of its many touch points, neuroscientists are now using music to learn about the brain and how it operates, and the medical field is using music to aid in therapy and healing. Music helps steady the heart rates of premature babies. It helps stroke victims regain the ability to speak. The presence of a steady beat helps people with Parkinson disease control their motions in an orderly fashion and walk with greater control.

The irony is that at the very time scientists are discovering how music stimulates the brain and promotes learning, arts education resources are disappearing from the schools. As scientists learn more about music and the brain, it is becoming apparent that learning to actively listen to an orchestra or play an instrument or sing in harmony is vital to a healthy, well-developed mind.

We should insist on high-quality musical experiences for all children. And we should seek out those opportunities for ourselves, to keep those synapses firing.

“Be a pixel.”

That is tonight’s instruction from our director, Scott Allen Jarrett, as he prepares the Oratorio Singers of Charlotte to perform Franz Joseph Haydn’s The Creation (Die Schöpfung) with the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra on November 19-20.

With just a little more than three weeks until the performances, tonight’s rehearsal is a physical and mental workout. A successful performance, as with most things in life, lies in the details. That takes work, and even more so with the classical style of Haydn.

Just the other day, I was reading through one of the classical music discussion forums on amazon.com that questioned why Haydn doesn’t engender the same kind of passion from classical music lovers that the Romantic era composers seem to.

One contributor surmised that Haydn’s music, while beautiful, engaging, and at times profound, rarely touches the sublime. His theory was that to our post-Romantic ears, the classical style doesn’t deliver the dramatic tension and release that we crave and typically get from the music of the Romantic era composers. In other words, we love our emotionally-fraught Beethoven and Tchaikovsky, but Haydn is just too…organized. It’s nice to listen to, but it never really soars.

Apparently, that contributor has never listened to The Creation. Considered to be Hadyn’s masterpiece, The Creation is beautiful, profound, and yes, sublime. The oratorio consists of thee parts. Part I unveils the creation of light, the earth, the heavenly bodies, water, weather, and plant life. Part II unfolds the creation of sea creatures, birds, animals, and lastly, man. Part III celebrates the happy first days of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. The oratorio kicks things off with an overture representing chaos. Its initial notes are devoid of perceptible melody. Gradually one instrument after another attempts to extract itself from the chaos, and a sense of order emerges. As the discordance settles, the music gently illuminates the spirit of God moving over the waters. Then, God commands that there to be light, and in response the orchestra and chorus burst forth with the joyous reply, “und es ward Licht!” — and there was Light! Brilliant. And that’s just the overture.

Haydn began composing The Creation in 1796 at the age of 65, after a highly successful tour in England. While in London, he attended several performances of George Frideric Handel’s oratorios. These large scale works inspired Haydn, and The Creation became his most personal composition. A deeply religious man, Haydn no doubt reveled in the opportunity to compose something that would enable people to enjoy a musical representation of God. He would later remark, “I was never so devout as when I was at work on The Creation. I fell on my knees each day and asked God to give me the strength to finish the work.” Haydn appended the words “Praise to God” at the end of each completed section.

He completed The Creation in 1798. It was the longest time he had spent on any of his 750+ compositions. When urged to bring it to a conclusion more quickly, Haydn replied, “I spend so much time over it, because I intend it to last a long time.” In fact, he worked on the project to the point of exhaustion and collapsed into a period of illness after conducting its highly successful premier performance in Vienna.

“Picture an old television set. If you get close enough to the screen, you can see the individual pixels. Step back, though, and you see the whole picture.”

The Oratorio Singers and the Charlotte community are extremely fortunate to have Scott Allen Jarrett. His musical taste is impeccable, but he also has the unique ability to convey both the necessary specific musical instruction and the insight into the larger context of the music — the pixels and the picture if you will. That he does so engagingly and without a trace of personal ego is probably even rarer. (If I had his talent, I’m pretty sure I would have the ego to go with it.)

“…Men, you have to stop the tone at the dot. If you sing into the 16th note, you can’t articulate the note and the whole passage gets bogged down….

…Women, you need to be sturdier, less dainty here. Make the quarter notes shorter.”

Details. Pixels. The classical style of Haydn demands it. The actual notes may not be as hard to sing or to play as those of other composers, but the precision required to perform them successfully is probably more difficult to achieve.

The Oratorio Singers of Charlotte is composed of professional singers, musicians, music educators, music students, and amateur singers like myself who have had musical training but don’t make our living in music. It’s Scott’s job to bring us together as a cohesive ensemble.

He makes a point of apologizing to the chorus for the TV/pixel metaphor, but as with all his illustrations, it’s spot on. As he says, it’s very difficult for an individual to extract the kind of skill required to honor what is in the score — to execute the details that unleash the sublime. It’s even more challenging to produce that as an ensemble. So our rehearsals are spent developing the focus, the agility, the cohesiveness, and the attention to detail that are required to deliver all the subtleties and all the glory of this music. Individually, we are charged with the responsibility to sing accurately — in tone, rhythm, diction, dynamics, and emotion — and to be available to the music and to the director.

To be a pixel. Singularly precise, but part of a bigger picture.

Like I said, it’s physically demanding. At the end of rehearsal, my feeling is that of one who has just had a good workout at the gym. Spent, but also fully engaged and energized in body and spirit. And what a thrilling experience it is when you get a glimpse of the big picture. When all the individual voices work together to create a glorious musical portrait of nothing less than the creation of the world. No, not thrilling. Sublime.

My only regret is that I won’t be in the audience to hear the whole “picture.” But you can, and you should. If you think the music of Haydn doesn’t have a place in your life, come and let The Creation change your mind. It will, and you will be forever glad that it did.

Born and raised in Aurora, Illinois, Tim Parolini grew up listening to a wide range of music, but mostly classical, jazz and blues. A graduate of Aurora University, he studied voice with Mr. Sten Halfvarson and performed with the Fine Arts Chorale under the direction of Dr. Elwood Smith. His fond memories of attending concerts as a youth include many Chicago Symphony Orchestra performances under the direction of the late, great Sir Georg Solti. Tim runs a brand marketing and design business that specializes in helping niche-oriented businesses and nonprofit organizations identify and effectively communicate their brand value. He is excited to be participating with the Oratorio Singers of Charlotte and currently serves on its board.

By Mary Catherine Rendleman Edwards

I will never forget the first time I heard a Charlotte Symphony concert.  My parents had Charlotte Symphony season tickets, and on this particular evening my mother was ill.

 I was a fifth grade violin student in the Eastover Elementary string class taught by Dominco Scappucci.  There was a guest violinist slated to play, so my Daddy took me to the concert.  I felt very special all dressed up and was introduced to grownups as we took our seats.

I remember that I was feeling sleepy towards the end of the first selection, but then Sidney Harth walked out on stage with his violin.  He played the Beethoven Violin Concerto. His long bow strokes producing silky sounds were mesmerizing.  I was engaged not just for the moment, but for the rest of my life. 

No longer was being the first chair in the Eastover Elementary String Orchestra enough.  It was just the beginning.  There was music to learn and places to go.  I went on to be a Charlotte Symphony Young Artist Winner in 1968 and joined the youth orchestra as a violinist while in ninth grade, going on to play in the Charlotte Symphony my senior year.  Being a violinist was a ticket for me to see the world.  I have played under conductors Leonard Bernstein, Seiji Ozawa, James Levine, Leonard Slatkin, George Solti, Daniel Barenboim, and many more.

That night many years ago I was lucky enough to have parents who loved music, a violin given to me to play, and opportunities provided to me by the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra and the Charlotte Symphony.  I sure hope they keep up the good work!  I am now back in the Charlotte area teaching orchestra at Eastway and McClintock Middle Schools, hoping – like the musicians of the Charlotte Symphony – to pass on the wonderful lifelong gift of music.

Mary Catherine Rendleman Edwards has enjoyed a carreer as a professional violinist for over forty years. She holds a Bachelor of Music from Boston University and a Master of Music from University of Michigan/Ann Arbor.  A Salisbury resident, she drives to Charlotte daily to teach orchestra at Eastway and McClintock Middle Schools.

“We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams”

So begins Arthur O’Shaughnessy’s ode to the creative class. Like many others my age, I first head this refrain uttered by Gene Wilder in “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.” (The source of a number of many of my early cultural references…) It wasn’t until years later that I took the time to read the whole poem. (It’s good.) What reminded me of this poem recently was an article about an American symphony orchestra (not ours) that was in the process of laying the groundwork for some hoped-for long term financial stability (like ours…and so many others). In the article were quotes from civic leaders, corporate recruiters, politicians, and music professionals all hailing the importance of a successful symphony orchestra to their city.

Most comments focused on a successful orchestra being a source of civic pride, an important corporate recruiting tool, or a local cultural benefit. These benefits notwithstanding, many orchestras in America are struggling. Blame the economic downturn, changing demographics, or the proliferation of entertainment options, but orchestras are fighting an ongoing battle to justify their existence. A few have folded. It got me to thinking.

What if a symphony orchestra could actually be an educational, economic, and cultural catalyst to a city and its surroundings? What if that happened here?

Radical thinking, I know. But just for the fun of it, let’s continue down this less traveled road. Charlotte perpetually strives to become a world class city. I know that because I read it in the paper every other day. Just what that means, of course, depends on your perspective. To some, it means the crime is low, the schools are good, and the train runs on time. To others, it means a vibrant cultural and sporting life. To others, something completely different. People inside and outside of Charlotte often poke fun at our civic status-seeking. And sure, as a city and as a region we aren’t yet comfortable in our own skin. We try too hard to impress. But isn’t this drive to become a better version of ourselves exactly the stuff that made Charlotte what it is today? We do not accept that this is all we can be. We desire. We hope. We aspire.

Great strides have been made in Charlotte to lay the financial groundwork for a viable symphony orchestra for years to come. There is much work to be done, of course, but thanks to the generosity and support of so many, the orchestra is in better shape than it has been for some time. What if we took things further, though? What if we adopted a vision to make Charlotte a recognized home for the arts and a leading cultural and musical center in the U.S.? Sure, there are many reasons why it wouldn’t, couldn’t, or shouldn’t happen. But what if it did? What if we put together a plan to integrate the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra into the very fabric of life in Charlotte?

For years, music education has been considered a luxury, and is often one of the first programs to get cut when the budget tightens. But music education shouldn’t be a luxury in our school systems; it should be an integral and irreplaceable part of the curriculum. A few years ago, Jonathan Fanton, then president of the MacArthur Foundation, put it this way: “The arts deepen our understanding of the human spirit, extend our capacity to comprehend the lives of others, allow us to imagine a more just and humane world. Through their diversity of feeling, their variety of form, their multiplicity of inspiration, the arts make our culture richer and more reflective.”

Beyond that, there is strong evidence that music education that includes instrumental music performance from kindergarten through high school delivers measurable improvements in the math and science performance of students (another blog for another day…) The Charlotte region is moving to diversify its economic base and attempting to become a hub for energy and technology and other areas of economic development. It will increasingly need an employment base equipped with not only specific trade skills, but also with people who have broad ranging abilities in science and math. Music education can help. As a bonus, we develop a population of residents who are interested in and understand the value of the arts.

About three years ago, the nonprofit organization, Americans for the Arts, conducted an economic impact study and concluded that nationally, America’s nonprofit arts and culture industry generates $166.2 billion in economic activity every year. Closer to home, some folks launched an arts festival back in 1977 in Charleston as a companion to a similar festival in Italy. Today, Spoleto Festival USA is recognized as one of the world’s leading festivals. Organizers estimate that the annual economic impact is over $55 million ($44 million from visitors) for the 17-day event. The festival also supports the equivalent of just under 1,000 jobs and over $20 million in local household income. I’m not suggesting that Charlotte attempt its own “Spoleto” necessarily. And yes, a 2-week music festival with out-of-town guest artists is a different animal from a resident orchestra. But rather than looking at the orchestra (and the arts in general) as a debit in the civic checkbook, we should recognize, develop, and promote the arts as an economic asset. I love sports, but they are not the only pursuits that deliver economic impact to a region.

“World class” or not, Charlotte is fast becoming an international city. We can fear that or embrace it. In making the transition from a “small town with a lot of people” to a true city-region, one of the benefits of attracting a broader scope of individuals is the cultural heritage they bring. Charlotte has always done a good job of embracing people with different backgrounds. Not diversity for the sake of being diverse, but embracing diversity as a means of enriching the cultural and economic fabric of the city. Already, we are seeing the Charlotte Symphony Orchestra begin a new venture with its KnightSounds concert series at the Knight Theater. Designed to engage audiences and let them experience the orchestra in a whole new way, KnightSounds is not about dumbing down the musical experience, but rather about opening it up to an expanded audience. It’s a good start, and I hope we will continue to do more to reach out to the community that is not part of the traditional concert-going audience.

O’Shaughnessy’s poem later reads:

…For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.

We all know that times are difficult. That shouldn’t stop us from dreaming or doing. Spoleto USA was launched in 1977. If you have forgotten or weren’t around, the 1970s was the worst decade economically since the Great Depression. High inflation (over 13 percent by 1979), double-digit interest rates (the prime rate had hit 21.5 by the end of 1980), and not one, but two oil crises all contributed to  a sluggish cynicism throughout the country and long lines at the gas station. If the Spoleto organizers had tried to “time the market” and waited until times got better to launch their festival, it may not have happened.

The Charlotte Symphony is working hard to get its financial house in order and develop a sound business plan for the future. It has a new Music Director who is talented, experienced, and passionate about his mission here. It is reaching out to new audiences. Now is the time to bring to birth a new age of music and the arts to Charlotte. Let’s do it.

On Sunday, Dennis Scholl, the Vice President for Arts for the Knight Foundation, called the Charlotte community to action. Those who love culture and this city have “taken a big step toward fostering a creative environment by making a significant investment in its arts infrastructure,” he wrote in The Charlotte Observer. The new Levine Center for the Arts, which includes the Knight Theater, the new Mint Museum, the Bechtler Museum of Modern Art, and the Harvey Gantt Center for African-American Arts + Culture, is an extraordinary addition to the city’s cultural facilities – a set of architectural jewels.

Scholl congratulated us for investing in the arts infrastructure, but he challenged us to “redouble” our efforts. “You have a plethora of world-class buildings that now need to be filled with world-class programming,” he wrote. (Read more: http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2010/08/29/1650780/now-charlotte-must-take-the-next.html#ixzz0y7f5xKTU)

The plea to fund programs as well as buildings is not new. In 1963, the then-new Music Director of the Charlotte Symphony, Richard Cormier, addressed the Charlotte Rotary Club, issuing the same challenge:

“If we are to maintain a vigorous, vital cultural life in our cities, we must think not only of buildings, but of people – artists, actors, musicians, writers, performers, teachers, students, philosophers, and administrators in every area of the cultural spectrum…. The big problem, as I scarcely need tell you, is money. Money not merely for theaters, concert halls, and museum buildings, but money to develop the public in its role as patrons and appreciators of the products of an artistic civilization….We must come to accept the arts as a new community responsibility.”

Nearly half a century later, we still need to hear those words. The Charlotte community must demand and support excellent culture: “fight for vibrant arts programming that engages the community and brings it inside these incredible structures to have an equally compelling cultural experience,” Scholl wrote.

The Charlotte Symphony is ready to do its part. New this season, the Symphony launches KnightSounds, a set of three concerts that aim to fill the new Knight Theater with “vibrant arts programming.” We challenge the community to be a part of this process. Come join us!

For more about KnightSounds, visit http://www.charlottesymphony.org/KnightSounds.asp

Outside the sun is scorching, in spite of the breeze that blows through the Converse College campus. Fortunately, though, Twichell Auditorium is air-conditioned, and the young brass players of the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra are oblivious to the August heat as they work through a difficult passage of Grieg’s Norwegian Dance.

The musicians of the CSYO are attending the orchestra’s annual summer camp, sponsored by The Symphony Guild, gearing up for a new season of music-making. Mornings are dedicated to full orchestra rehearsals; after lunch, the students divide into sections, led by members of the Charlotte Symphony.

Last Thursday afternoon in the lobby of Twichell Auditorium, CSO Principal Tubist David Mills was warning the trumpets to make way for the horns: “There’s something that comes right after you, so hit that note and get out of the way.” Inside the auditorium, CSO Principal Timpanist Leo Soto was teaching a student about the power of pianissimo. With his ear down, his whole body alert to sound, Leo caused a magical shimmer to arise from the drums. The effervescent sound made the hairs on my arm stand up, and demonstrated to his young protégé that you can command as much attention with that hush as with a resounding thunder.

The appointment of Gustavo Dudamel as Music Director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic has brought spectacular national attention to Venezuela’s youth orchestra system and the philosophy of its founder José Antonio Abreu. Abreu’s system is building amazing orchestras, but he aspires to accomplish much more: He maintains that orchestras build community, create good citizens, because the varied members of an orchestra come together for the common good – to perform great music.

At youth orchestra camp, the members of the CSYO are experiencing this first-hand, all day, every day. “It’s great doing music all day,” said flutist Sarah Sullivan, a rising senior at North Meck High School, earlier that afternoon. “You’d think you’d get tired of it, but it’s really fun. It’s really a relaxed atmosphere – everyone is open and willing to get to know each other.”

And the students are doing more than music all day. They’re getting music lessons, but they’re also getting lessons in life. Like David Mills’s comment to the trumpets: Be respectful of others’ space and time. Or Leo Soto’s demonstration: Listen, focus, be precise, and remember that you do not need to yell to be heard.

“In sectionals and in the full orchestra, you realize that you have to listen,” oboist Michael Smith, a rising senior at Providence High School, told me during a break from sectionals. “It’s a great mantra for a community, because if you’re not listening to other people in a community, how can ideas be shared?”

“They say music is the universal language,” Elizabeth Honeyman agreed. Elizabeth is a junior at Peabody – a CSYO alum who has come back to lead the oboes. “But you have to learn how to work with others; you have to learn when to lead and when to follow. You connect to everyone else. What you do on your own is not nearly so important as what you do when you link into everyone else.”

Not bad.

And when these students “link into everyone else,” they look for unity among the differences, another CSYO alum, Loren Taylor, added.

“It’s like a family; if there is any conflict, it’s like sibling rivalry. Coming together like a family is what makes people in the youth orchestra better citizens – contribute to society. We’re building something together. Even if you’re in a lower chair, your part is still contributing to the whole.”

Meg Whalen is the Director of Public Relations and Community Engagement.

In the summer before seventh grade, I entered into a long and devoted alliance to a formidable but wonderfully giving master: the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestras. My orchestral career, at that point, was still in its developmental stages, and I could barely read music. Thanks to my Suzuki training, I memorized everything, and learned notes through finger numbers. This would be the method to my madness in the “Sizzling Strings,” small youth string orchestras in the Charlotte and Matthews community that would later expand to include the “Blazing Band.”

Led by CMS teacher Bruce Becker, these groups truly nurtured my desire to perform in any sort of ensemble and introduced me to fellow musicians that I still frequently gig with today. Through his encouragement, I auditioned for the CMS Middle School Honors Orchestra, and it was there that I first understood what it meant to compete for a chair; more importantly, it was where I heard about the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestras. From my stand partner and others, I came to the understanding that each of the principal players of the Honors Orchestras that year was in either the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra (CSYO) or the Junior Youth Orchestra (JYO). I heard tales of how these kids, orchestral warriors of their time, had won auditions that were legendary in their intensity. My mother spoke to other parents at the final Honors Orchestra concert, and then worried about what would clearly become a near-obsession for me. As I picked up the glossy brochure, one particularly snotty kid, and my biggest competition at that time, muttered “I heard they make you cry in the auditions,” as he sauntered by. I was hooked.

Upon taking my JYO audition [in which I did not cry], I felt an excitement that I had not experienced up to that point in my “career.” My Suzuki training had served me well. The night before the first rehearsal, my mother spent nearly three hours straightening my long unruly hair, and I polished my violin until I could see my reflection in the varnish. When I arrived the next morning, I was met with a surprise: the JYO was a full symphony – with strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion – something I had not anticipated.

From the back of the second violin section I barely hung on as the orchestra read down an arrangement of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite. Panicked, I realized that I would have to work harder than I ever had in order to keep up. More importantly, I was carnivorous in my desire for a better chair. Like most of the kids in Charlotte, placement trumped “musical experience,” “cultural enrichment,” or any other “reason for the season” the adults had thought up to justify the existence of these ensembles in the community. I had to know what it felt like to be first chair of THIS orchestra. Nothing else would suffice!

As I plotted my practicing moves from the back of the section, equally focused and distracted by flutes?! clarinets?! timpani?! I realized that this was the start of something very big. Though I spent the next six years trying to decide whether or not I would major in literature or fashion marketing, I now realize that thanks to the JYO, and later, the CSYO, my career path has been set since the seventh grade. And I don’t regret a minute of it.

Jessica McJunkins was a Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra violinist from 1998-2004. She served as principal second violin for the CSYO Carnegie Hall debut in 2002 and Assistant Concertmaster for the 2003-04 season. For more about the youth orchestras, visit www.csyo.net.