El Sistema Venezuela Wrap-Up: Meeting with Abreu, and Lessons Learned

We've reached the end of our 5 week journey discovering El Sistema in Venezuela. We taught all day, we met the warmest, most open-hearted people, we saw really, really hard work. We heard beautiful music everywhere we went.

On our last day, we had a chance to sit with Maestro Abreu and share a little about what we saw and what we'd improve. Sitting in a room with that man, after seeing first hand the work that is a result of his vision, was astonishing. This was a genius among us. And he sat there, smiling, and gave each one of us his full attention.

When he came to me, I wasn't sure what I was going to say. Should I talk about Soroco again, and how powerful an experience it was for me to see how music can literally live anywhere? Should I talk about how El Sistema isn't magic, but the result of strong vision and extremely hard work? Should I talk about the music making, or the intrinsic nature of access in everything El Sistema represents?

Instead, I spoke about 4 things that resonated profoundly with me on this trip:

1. The love of learning, permeating throughout the entire culture of Sistema. Everyone is hungry to learn. Kids want to learn more and more everyday. Teachers want to learn from experts. Families want to learn more about the music. Children want to learn from each other. What a beautiful space in which to live a life.

2. The love of teaching. Not just the love of teaching, but the need to teach, to give back. Great teachers gave so much to me time and time again in my life, and when I teach I feel that I have to give everything of myself because that is what my teachers gave to me. And this spirit of giving is so prevalent all throughout Sistema.

3. The democratic nature of music, both within the music itself and in terms of who can participate. Musically: jazz, folk music, choir, and orchestral music can (and according to many people I spoke to, SHOULD) live in the same place so that kids can have access to many ways of making music. Who can join: everyone can participate in music. Doesn't matter where you live, how old you are, who you are, what disabilities you have, or how much money you have. If you want to play, you can.

4. I didn't have a chance to mention this last one, but something that cannot be ignored, which my Fellow Jose Luis Estrada Hernandez talks about, is the music. The music! We heard so many beautiful concerts! So many children taking risks and committing to making daring musical phrases together, regardless of their level.

Maestro Abreu wanted to know what we'd improve. I learned so much from this trip that the few things I would suggest seem so minor in comparison to the great lessons I took away. But if I had to offer two thoughts, they would be:

1. Create even more opportunities for older students to thrive. The academy (a program for more advanced students to come to Caracas for private lessons with master teachers) is wonderful, but for kids in rural Venezuela and elsewhere who may not be going regularly to the academies, it would be great to get them accompanists on occasion and opportunities to solo with orchestra so that they can enjoy the full musical experience of the solos they're working on.

2. More opportunities for exchange among international artists, educators, administrators, and Venezuelans. The more people who can come to Venezuela and see the extraordinary work that's happening there first-hand, the more demystified the program might become so that many more people can bring the same energy, motivation, and commitment to music and children to their communities as El Sistema brings to Venezuela.

I would love to see a day when all of the world's major artists no longer see performance and education as two separate things. When institutions for higher education no longer separate music education from music performance. When there are more bridges between genres so that musicians can become more versatile musically, and in life. When young people no longer insist on hip hop, but also demand orchestras in their neighborhoods, and jazz ensembles, and choirs. I think that the more people who can come to Venezuela, and teach, learn, play, and ask questions, the better chances we have of tipping the scales in making music a focal point of society, to thrive in a life with a love of learning and playing.

Seeing El Sistema in Venezuela: The Music!

I realize as I'm re-reading my blog posts that there's something implied but glaringly missing: the extraordinary concerts and rehearsals we watched and participated in. And what concerts! As a French horn player, the chance to play alongside passionate, curious, and musical young musicians for me was both an honor and tremendous fun. And because El Sistema is all about that go-for-it attitude, I also enjoyed jumping into new waters and singing in choir rehearsals with my Fellows Aisha, Alysia, and Stephanie. Here, a few musical highlights from the trip:

• Attending a recording of Gustavo Dudamel conducting the Simón Bolívar Orchestra in Beethoven's 3rd Symphony.
  

• In Barquisimeto, Ben, Avi, Julie, Stephanie, and I played a concert with the Youth Orchestra of Barquisimeto. This is one of the rehearsals of Prokoviev's 5th Symphony, and it was wickedly exciting to play with several kids who have worked together for years.

• Look out, Broadway. In Valle de la Pascua, I played hookie from the orchestra rehearsal one day to experience a choir session that Aisha and Alysia were leading of "New York." I joined the altos. When the other girls found out I live in New York, they literally got up to move their chairs closer to me, then asked for my autograph. (Helllooo stardom!) Have I sung in choir before? No. Was this way more fun (and absolutely hilarious) than most orchestra rehearsals I've played? You bet...

• Up in Coro, we were invited to hear a concert for orchestra and four soloist singers. Each soloist was a couple years younger than the previous. So by the time this little girl (about 9 years old) came on the stage, we just about fell over when she opened her mouth to sing. The next Miss Venezuela, anyone?

• Also in Coro, some of the Fellows wandered over to a rehearsal for the all Ave Maria program. Stephanie, Ben, Aisha, and I joined the chorus, while Alysia sang the solo.

(For the dress rehearsal of this piece with the White Hands choir, visit the El Sistema and Special Needs blog and scroll down to the end.)

• During our final week, in Caracas, we had a chance to watch Southbank Centre's Marshall Marcus rehearse members of The Teresa Carreño Youth Orchestra in a Baroque program (unfortunately I didn't get footage of this, but believe me, it was very cool.) And another gem: hearing a beautiful performance of Mozart's Requiem, with the Symphonic Youth Choir Simón Bolívar and the Caracas Youth Symphony, led by Robert Göstl.

El Sistema and Special Needs

Two phrases we've heard frequently this year is "El Sistema is about access," and "El Sistema is for everyone." Jose Antonio Abreu really means it. As part of his vision for El Sistema, Abreu would say that if children with special needs cannot participate like other children in making music, then El Sistema needs to create opportunities for those children to thrive in music, too.

And that's exactly what El Sistema has done.

I had heard about the "Manos Blancos" choirs in Caracas and Barquisimeto, choirs of "White Hands," or, children who wear white gloves while making beautiful hand and arm gestures to the music because they are deaf or blind or mute. But it wasn't until Valle de la Pascua that I had a chance to experience the power of this program. Here, for the first time, we were introduced to the magnificent world of the White Hands choir:



After we watched them, the choir director brought all of the Fellows up to participate. It was really hard! According to the choir directors, there has been a whole curriculum developed around special needs choirs. The work is rigorous, and they rehearse just as often -- if not more often -- than the singing choirs.

I spent some time with the lead special needs teacher that day. She is almost blind herself, and finds the work with these kids to be extremely important in giving them a sense of achievement in participating in something challenging and beautiful.

This 7 year old was in a few of the special needs ensembles in Valle de la Pascua. When he played in the percussion ensemble, I was completely blown away. Check this out:



On our first day in Coro, we were brought to a room covered in old concert posters and awards of Jose Maiolino, the Coro nucleo director who started the program just a few years after Maestro Abreu started his first orchestras in 1975. The Manos Blancos Coro choir was rehearsing, and we had a chance to watch them in action (and sing along):



During our week in Coro, a few of us took a day trip to Punto Fijo, a small town that you get to by driving over a beautiful isthmus with goats frolicking along the beach (no, I'm not kidding-- there were frolicking goats.) After teaching horn for a few hours, I was shown around the nucleo by a lovely woman (who I later learned is the special needs director). She showed me to a room labeled "Manos Blancos," and, explaining that this was the special needs room, she apologized profusely that they didn't know we were coming and they were prepared for us. But once we walked in, a small choir of special needs kids stood up and gave me a private concert. It was some of the most impassioned singing I had heard the whole trip.


(For two more Punto Fijo special needs choir video, visit YouTube here and here.)

But what was perhaps the most moving moment for me was on one of our last days, in Coro. I had spent the week working closely with the horn players at the Conservatory and in Las Panelas nucleo, and the day before we left, the horn teachers asked if I would sit in on the dress rehearsal for their concert. The program was all Ave Maria works by different composers (Bach/Gounod, Schubert, Verdi, Brahms), with the professional choir from Coro, and the Manos Blancos.

I kept trying to turn around from the horn section (while playing) to watch, but when I finally had a piece off, I stood up and wept at one of the most beautiful performances I had experienced during the whole trip. (This clip is 5 minutes-- I'd recommend watching the whole thing, but even if you have 1 minute, you'll get the idea.)



Amen.

An El Sistema Lesson: Music Can Grow Everywhere

Video of Soroco, a modulo near a dump site near Calabozo

All throughout our trip, we've been taken to various modulos (in-school Sistema initiatives) and told that many of the children both in the modulos and nucleos come from neighborhoods with very high crime, drug-use, and lack of essential resources like water and electricity. We've driven by neighborhoods with tin shack houses and concrete rooms missing doors and sometimes ceilings. We've heard stories of children who come to the nucleo because it's actually another -- and safer -- home.

But I didn't fully grasp this until a few of us visited Soroco, a school located next to a dump site near Calabozo. When we arrived, a lovely violin teacher took me on a walk around the school. She explained that the parents all work in the dump site, and, pointing to the shacks without doors surrounding the school, explained that this is where the children live.

Only 40 children attend this school, but we saw about 20. Some children were playing soccer outside, while a few others were studying in classes. Outside in the hot sun, a woman was cooking something while a baby played in a cardboard box as a playpen. The music teacher took me to a little kitchen, and said, "What you see here is all they have to eat. There is not enough money for meat, so they eat whatever we can get on a given day." I saw some rice, tomatoes, and something that looked like a root vegetable, but certainly not enough for 40 children.

"The culture is completely different here," the teacher explained. "It's an incredibly difficult life for these children. They have nothing."

So I asked her, "Would it be possible to create an after-school program here so that these kids can have a safe place to be after school?" And she looked at me and said, "That's not possible. These children, ages 5-8, go to work at the dump site after school so that they can make some money for their families to eat."

She continued by explaining the goals of this program here. The modulo is only a year old (having started with Venezuelan folk music), and children just received classical instruments in January. At this point, the goal is to prepare these children to be able to play well enough to participate in the ensembles at the main nucleo. But the longer term goal is to keep these children in the Sistema so that, instead of living a life at the dump site, they can identify other opportunities in their lives, such as working in music through teaching and playing.

Meanwhile, the other teachers were setting up some chairs, and the children began to take out violins, cellos, quatros, and even a bass. Julie Davis led a string class to the children outside, giving a few of the students opportunities to lead the lesson.

There weren't any brass players, so I found my way over to two little cellists to see what they were learning. Both of my parents are professional cellists, but I never really learned how to play. So I asked the 7 year old if he could show me how to hold a bow. (The following photos and videos courtesy of Albert Oppenheimer.)



After some time teaching, the nucleo leaders asked us if we'd like to go fruit-picking. Which might seem like a normal activity in other rural places, but looking around the school at the arid landscape and fields ridden with garbage surrounding us, we couldn't possibly imagine what they were talking about. Maybe we misunderstood the Spanish?

We began to walk down a path alongside the school. There was garbage everywhere. It looks like the people living in these houses have been using their backyards as a trash-dump. Everywhere you look (besides the path), you see garbage, half-dead dogs, some pigs, and chickens. And then we looked up, and there were hundreds of trees, bearing fruit! The nucleo leaders started picking the fruit for us, tamarinds, and something else (a small green fruit shaped like a walnut but smooth on the outside). Here, in the middle of a wasteland and dump site, grew fruit-bearing trees.

And as those children and music teachers back at the school strive through music, they, too, are planting the seeds of a tree that will bear them fruits of possibility for the rest of their lives.

Rural Sistema Programs, Part 3: Getting Started, and Teacher Training

What does it take to get a modulo or nucleo up and running in a place like the outskirts of Calabozo or Valle de la Pascua?














This is where the Sistema lends itself particularly well to programmatic development. Teachers from neighboring cities come regularly during the course of one year (twice a month in many cases) to train older students on their instruments so that they can take over the teaching and leadership. Over the course of the year, the master visiting teachers come less frequently and the student teachers take on more leadership responsibilities.

Some programs might have an advanced teacher move to or near the town for awhile to help get the program started, and to be as invested as possible in developing the student teachers who will be running the program once the advanced teacher leaves.

Imagine! It's like setting up an extraordinary leadership academy for young people: they receive intensive training by master teachers, they're given lots of responsibility, and then they have the honor of teaching for and shaping the program. Brilliant.


Fellow Jose Luis (left) translates for Sergio about the young teachers in Valle de la Pascua

On Rural Programs, Part 2: Different Models of Modulos

I love this! Venezuelan folk music, accompanying little dancers at a modulo near Valle de la Pascua

Modulos take many shapes and forms. The modulo in the above video is in a rural school near Valle de la Pascua. They have string ensembles, Venezuelan folk ensembles, and choirs. In the case of Mahomito (the modulo mentioned in Part 1), Sergio explained that they had initially tried to start an orchestral program with strings. However, due to limited resources (money for instruments) and to children not really taking to the music or the instruments (he said that after 3 years, they didn't really improve), the instruments went back to the central nucleo and Mahomito started a Venezuelan folk music program instead.

This, too, has been difficult. There aren't enough folk music teachers to come teach the kids as often as it would take to help them improve quickly, and the individual lessons may be taking time away from group learning, which – according to Sergio - is the most important component of a program like this for social development. So Mahomito is focusing on choir, and seeing if the Venezuelan folk music program takes off (in other words, if kids continue to want to do it).

We saw choirs in every modulo we visited, and it seems that the modulos implement choirs as a way of advancing their social development goals by getting as many kids as possible engaged, even if they don't have money for instruments.

Around Calabozo, the nucleo director Rodrigo explained that some of the modulos in surrounding areas may focus on only one type of instrument. For example, there may be a cello-only modulo, a violin/viola-only modulo, and a brass-only modulo. Next August, the children from these programs will come together to perform in an orchestra. Because some of these modulos are so small (one town called San Francisco only has population 1,000), a full orchestra may not make sense financially or programmatically, but the modulo leaders are still finding ways to engage children in music and connect them with teachers and other students around the region.

On Rural Programs in El Sistema, Part 1: The Music

(The next few blog posts are based on interviews and observations in Valle de la Pascua and Calabozo, in the state of Guarico.)

The state of Guarico, in the center of Venezuela, has different nucleo models than others we've seen in Caracas and Barquisimeto. There is at least one central nucleo in each city, with modulos, or satellites, in the rural towns that surround it. The modulos are basically school-based programs, run by an administrator hired by the nucleo. Each modulo is its own program and makes decisions based on the needs and interests of its community. The students can travel to take lessons and participate in larger group ensembles at the central nucleo, and if they cannot get there (transportation or otherwise), the teachers from the nucleo will come to them.

Case in point: Mahomito near Valle de la Pascua. It's about a 30 minute drive from the center nucleo, down pothole-ridden roads and arid farmland (that may not actually be used for farming) where white cows with jowels and droopy ears roam freely. The school in Mahomito is tiny, and it's the only school for miles. When we arrive, Sergio (the nucleo director and our lovely host) points to a small, modest one-room building. He explains that when the school/modulo decided to have a choir program, it was necessary to have a separate room for rehearsals. To raise money for the building, parents and children made ceramic art pieces that they sold at the main nucleo during concerts. They raised enough money to build the building.


Sergio explains the choir room

We walked in, and a choir of about 65 children was waiting to sing for us. They were of mixed ages, some as young as 5, others as old as 15. They sang several beautiful songs, but the one that got us weeping was at the very end. The choir director explained that there's a song they always like to sing to visitors, and would it be OK if they could sing it for us. (Of course it was.) What came next was 65 children pouring their hearts out to us. I don't know what they were singing, but it was evident that every child loved that song passionately. And there we were, in the middle of a field in central Venezuela, where -- even though life might be difficult for these children outside the walls of the school -- inside, they were making beautiful music together.


One song with harp and the Mahomito choir



The song the Mahomito choir loved the most

Peer Teaching in El Sistema: Part 1

"Trust the young, and give them the mandate to lead."
-Maestro Abreu

We hear a lot about kids teaching kids in El Sistema, and I was beginning to think that we were romanticizing the idea a bit. Like, “Oh! Look at that 14 year old working with the beginner 6 year old! How lovely! It's peer learning at its finest!”

I wasn't so sure. It seemed great for some reasons (empowering student leaders, saving money), but it also seemed more like a solution to get around there just not being enough professional musicians and teachers, and less like a strategy to empower young leaders. I kept thinking, "how are the teenagers supported in their musical and social development? Who's continuing to take care of them?"

I'm beginning to think that these questions are inconsequential, or at least partially so.

All of the teachers I speak with, professional and student, tell me more or less the same thing. The older students receive free music instruction, and therefore it is their duty to give back through teaching. They don't question it; teaching is just part of life in the same way that learning is. How are they kept engaged and supported? Many of them get to travel to other cities, like Caracas, for intensive lessons twice a month with master teachers. They also feel a sense of ownership in developing and guiding group classes and individual lessons.

After teaching (group) lessons to 3 horn players at the Antonio Estévez nucleo in Calabozo, I came the next day to find the oldest -- a 15 year old -- giving a lesson to a beginner (who is 7). The 7 year old was insolent. He stubbornly refused to continue to try to play lower notes. What I noticed most (besides the child's attitude) was the 15-year old's patience. He just get working with the boy, finding new ways to keep the learning moving forward. At one stage, I asked the boy why he chose the horn. He looked at me (still with a sour face) and said, "Because I love the horn! I like the sound." And so he and the 15-year old kept working away.



I still wonder in which ways the teenagers are receiving mentor-ship by adults, and if there could be more and better ways for some of these kids to continue to be as supported as their younger cohorts. But I'm understanding something else that more seasoned educators will already know: that embedding student leadership opportunities into all learning experiences is very powerful. These kids feel really proud to be in this program, and they carry with them a deep sense of responsibility for passing on their knowledge to the younger kids.

Here's another account: on our first day visiting this same nucleo, I started chatting with a lovely woman, a young clarinet teacher in her 20s. She told me a little about her work, and offered this:

"I came through this program, as did all of my friends. I went on to study accounting in university in another city, but I came back here because I had to, for the children and for the music. I have my own business - a clothing store - where I work during the first part of every weekday, and then afterward I come to teach here. It's exhausting, but I do it because I need to. The reason we do this is for the love of music. We feel drawn to this to give to children what we were given."

At first I thought this might have been planted fodder to feed to a visiting Sistema Fellow, but then it occurred to me that she might not know why 10 people from the US were at her nucleo and who on earth we were. It turns out she hadn't a clue; her explaining why she teaches came entirely from the heart.

It seems what she, and others, are telling us is that the question isn't "how do teenagers and young adult teachers continue to receive mentorship and support?" but rather, "how can we teenagers and young adults better help our younger peers who need it most?"

Seeing El Sistema: One Student's Journey

They come to experience music through a vision that is guided by a spirit of solidarity. And this same spirit, provides them with a new family within the nucleo: a safe-haven to learn, socialize, and feel valued.
-Sistema Fellow Jose Luis Estrada Hernandez

In Barquisimeto, I met Victor Santana, a 15-year old trumpet player from Barquisimeto who lives in New York and attends Juilliard Pre-College. He was visiting home on a school break.

I had been quite dazzled by the closeness of the brass players and the intensity with which they work together as groups. I wanted to know more about their experience growing up at this conservatory, and Victor very graciously allowed me to interview him.

Getting Started in El Sistema



"You Live For This"
He says it's not a music program, but more like a school. And almost in the same breath he says, "You Live for This." Imagine if that's how kids felt about going to "regular" school!

Becoming Like One Through the Orchestra



Here's what I took away from talking with Victor: It's no joke. Group learning and intensive ensemble playing really do impact community. Warming up together, hanging out together, learning from one another, feeling part of the ensemble as a whole with all of your closest friends. Knowing that you can rely on these people for support; truly believing that the orchestra (community) sound comes from your shared love for and commitment to the music.

(This got me thinking: What can this mean for education of high school and college students in the US and elsewhere? How can we offer this experience to young people, who are 12-15 years old right now? How, if they have only played once a week in orchestras their whole life? What would a youth orchestra or other ensemble that worked together everyday look like?)

The "Naked in the Sauna" Revelation about El Sistema

It's taken me a week to find the words to express my biggest take-away from Barquisimeto. My fellow Fellows have shared their experiences beautifully: about teaching, about playing, about observing. My take-aways have surprised me, because they were not at all what I'd expected. They have to do with the older students, and how a program like El Sistema has shaped them and the music they make together.

The best way I know how to describe the impact that Barquisimeto had on me is what I'd like to call the "naked in the sauna" revelation.

When I was 21, I studied abroad in Vienna. Some friends and I went to a sauna, and -- accustomed to saunas in the US -- I walked out of the dressing room in a bathing suit, wrapped in a towel. My Austrian friend looked at me aghast and said, “What are you doing? We go naked in saunas here, otherwise people think you're hiding something. Oh, and the saunas at this place are co-ed. But don't worry-- when people are in a sauna, they're not looking at you, they're just there to relax.”

Um, really?

She continued, “You just have to pretend like you're really confident, like you do this all the time, so that people don't sense your discomfort. Believe me, once you've experienced being naked in the sauna, you'll never want to wear a bathing suit in one again!”

So I gave it a try. Put on my best acting face, walked right in as if I do this all the time, took off the towel, and sat down like my friend. The sauna was full of men and women. No one looked up. Everyone was in their own world, relaxing. I can't say I could actually relax that time around, but over the next few years living in Germany and visiting many saunas, I came to know no other way to enjoy them. Why on earth would you have extra clothes on when you can enjoy the heat from the sauna as freely as possible?

When I was growing up playing the French horn, I was lucky to play in top youth orchestras throughout the year, attend really good summer music camps, and study privately with the best teachers (thanks mom and dad). Youth orchestra met once a week, and we performed fairly frequently throughout the year. The summer camps and festivals were life-changing, intensive months in gorgeous locations, and I remember wishing that my whole year could be as enriching musically and personally as those summers.

In college, there were about 20 students in Gail Williams' horn class. We played solos in horn class for each other once a week, and I recall the experience feeling inordinately stressful. Yes, this experience was essential as practice for performing in front of people. But I certainly didn't want to put myself through it any more than I had to. I had work to do! I had excerpts to learn perfectly! I had Mozart and Strauss concertos to work on! And in addition, we had tons of rehearsals and classes to boot! On the rare occasion, some of us would get together and play through duos or quartets. All this to say that I generally remember trying to figure things out in a practice room alone, with my teacher, and sometimes in orchestra rehearsal.

While doing graduate work in Germany, I saw a culture of group learning for my first time while studying at the Hanns Eisler Musikhochschule. The horn class of Marie Luise Neunecker shared a big horn room, practicing together and playing for each other. They seemed to enjoy working on their horn with one another. It was a totally different (and quite pleasant) learning environment, and while they invited me to join them, I always felt a bit like an outsider because I studied with a different teacher (Fergus McWilliam). While this feeling may have been based on nothing, I usually chose my comfort zone and opted to find a separate room where I could practice individually. After all, that's the best way to focus, right?

Cut to this week in Barquisimeto, Venezuela (commonly known as Gustavo Dudamel's hometown, and a home to Dr. Jose Antonio Abreu in his childhood). On our first day at the conservatory/nucleo, I thought I'd understood from a nucleo director (in Spanish) that I'd be giving a master class to the horn students, and all I could think was, “Oh god, I'm totally out of shape, please give me a few minutes to myself to warm up before anyone hears me play.”

I said hello to the 3 horn players standing around (between 17-22 years old), and they asked me for lessons. I said sure, and suggested later in the morning. Then I found an empty room, ducked in as quickly as possible hoping no one would see me, took out my horn, and started warming up. It was so great to play again! To be in a room alone with my horn! And then, not 2 minutes later, the door opened and all of the horn players walked in. They didn't say anything, just came in with their horns and sort of stood there, waiting for me to say or do something. I finally understood that they wanted me to teach them or play for them. Fortunately, I had some quartets and we started by playing quartets together.

But I was back in the "sauna" without a towel. I kept thinking, “No! I need more time alone to warm up! This is not good for me! I don't want them to hear me before I've played a little more! I won't be able to teach them as well if I don't have a few minutes alone!” But, like in Vienna, I decided to put on a poker face and pretend like I'm as confident as ever on my horn (walking naked into a co-ed sauna).

Slowly, I realized that playing quartets was the perfect way to warm up. You get to blend with other peoples' sounds, work on articulation by trying to match what everyone is doing musically, and play beautiful music first thing in the day.

That same day, I got the music for Prokoviev and Wagner, which I'd be playing in the Orchestra Symphonica Juvenil de Lara (the top youth orchestra in Barquisimeto) later that week. I needed to practice, so after teaching lessons to the 3 horn players, I said, “OK, I need to practice now.” I thought they'd understand that I needed some space, but instead, they all stood around looking at me while I went through the music. Finally, I turned to them and said, “This is weird. Can one of you please play along?” And so Daniela, the only woman brass player in the orchestra, played along with me. Practicing had never been more fun.

A couple of days later, they said they'd like to do a group warm-up with me. Again, the panic (“but I need to sneak a warm-up by myself first so that I'm ready to play with them.” Or, “if I just keep my towel around me the whole time, no one will notice.”) Again, the letting-go and just going for it. And again, that feeling of dismay that I hadn't done this my whole life. It felt great! Playing long warm beautiful tones with 4 other people, echoing each other, commenting on sound quality or the dynamics. It was like a prayer, like singing a song you love with people who love that song, too.

Suddenly, feeling naked felt like the most natural thing in the world. I wanted to play in groups as often as possible. To go back through my music education and insist with all of the musicians I knew that we warm up together, practice together, learn from each other as our best resources for growing.

My awakening really came during the orchestra rehearsals and concert: group learning has affected every aspect of these horn players' lives. They have been playing together for many, many years. They know each others' musical backgrounds, and they know each others' families. They have gone through hardships together, they have been there for each other over the years. They watch out for each other. Their competition is positive (according to what they tell me). They constantly strive to get better to try and surpass their friends, as a fun and spirited competition among friends.

And the evidence was in the sound of the orchestra. They move together as a section effortlessly. They're constantly listening to each other in a highly sophisticated way, making minor adjustments based on what they hear, giving each other feedback (not as colleagues finding the most diplomatic way to communicate musical decisions, but as buddies who are looking out for each other and for the orchestra as a whole).

So my big naked question: What would a program like this (rigorous musical group learning) look like for teenagers in the States? Particularly for at-risk teens, how can a program like El Sistema instill a sense of positive community among youth, and from youth to their own communities? Imagine teenagers around the country with as much love for one another and for their communities, with sophisticated communication skills, and with a burning desire to strive for excellence as the kids we met in Barquisimeto. What would it take to create an environment like summer music camp, like El Sistema in Barquisimeto, all year long?

Seeing El Sistema: Motivation and Staying Awake

Pedro Vasquez, the tuba teacher at the Conservatory/Nucleo in Barquisimeto, and his lovely family, took some of us out to a beautiful spot on a hill overlooking Barquisimeto tonight. It's a hotel of sorts (more like cute little cabanas) with a courtyard with live music and a restaurant. The owner-- a plastic surgeon -- has a wonderful old car collection, and many of the cars were parked around the place. (One of the other Fellows may post an incriminating video that involves several of us dancing on the outdoor stage at the request of the MC.)

We chatted at length that evening (in Spanish! Success!), and - unprompted - he offered this to me:

"The two most important elements of El Sistema are... Not being tired, and motivation."

According to Pedro, he and his colleagues work 7 days a week, Monday-Sunday, tirelessly. And even if they feel tired, they never let the kids see that. "They see us committing to them 100% and they see us invested in working with them to constantly grow on their instruments and in their lives."

He went on to explain that embedding motivation at every level is an essential part of El Sistema. The child in the beginner's string ensemble feels motivated when, after a week of working on scales, he can play something he's never played before in a short period of time. As he becomes more advanced, he finds motivation through performing a full piece with the orchestra that they have worked hard on. Maybe he has a chance to play with older students in a side-by-side with a more advanced orchestra.

The older students who teach the younger students earn money for their work-- another motivating incentive. And more seasoned teachers in the Sistema find motivation through their multi-faceted careers: as teachers, playing with their chamber music groups in international festivals, performing in their orchestras, working with world-renowned musicians who come to perform and teach in Venezuela. One story in particular surprised me: the horn players in the professional orchestra in the state of Lara were given brand new horns (any model and make they chose) as a gift from the Interamerican Bank, one of the main supporters of Sistema.

But getting back to the “getting tired” idea. I didn't quite have the Spanish skills to convey “do you ever experience burn-out?” but my sense was that the leaders I spoke with (teachers, administrators, administrator/teachers) find great joy and energy from having multi-faceted careers and some of the rewards that come with them. Some have even gone back to school to get advanced degrees in pedagogy or business, enjoying the experience of being a student again.

The lesson on that hill with Pedro: stay awake, and constantly seek motivation whenever and wherever you can.

Seeing El Sistema: Caracas, Sarria nucleo

The nucleo Sarria is located in a school in the middle of a barrio (neighborhood). After the school day ends, the school is taken over with hundreds of children learning to play music.

Most of the space is outdoors, and the students and teachers take advantage of any space they can find. As we wander around, we find dozens of small groups of children learning together with teachers. Along one corridor, children whose feet don't touch the ground work on flute, bassoon, oboe, and clarinet. (In this picture, the kids share instruments because there aren't enough flutes.)

Along another corridor, a group of brand new brass players works on scales with their teachers.

This little boy is 7 years old. No joke.

Under a large tree, we discover a percussion ensemble. The teacher explains to us that because there isn't so much for percussionists to play in orchestra at this stage, they have several hours of percussion ensemble every week to work on their own repertoire.

In a small auditorium, we find a large children's orchestra, that plays beautiful Venezuelan music for us. The children play with unbridled passion.

A few things become clear at this nucleo:

• The children feel very proud to be in this program (as evidenced by our chatting with numerous children, who expressed joy and pride in being part of the orchestra)
• Repetition is emphasized to achieve perfection (while observing classes, I notice that many teachers ask the students to repeat until they get the phrase or notes perfect). In other words, continuously striving toward improvement.
• They make do with what they've got: Not enough instruments? Share them (taking turns in group lessons). No free classroom? Take a music stand and go outside.
• Group lessons reign supreme here. Within the group lessons, many teachers attend to each individual, while the other kids wait patiently, or work on the same technique that the teacher is demonstrating. (RE: waiting patiently, it's also possible that the kids were on very good behavior because they had a bunch of guests in the room. But still, it was impressive.)

Teacher working with students who have been playing for 2 days!

Seeing El Sistema: A day in the Montalban nucleo

When you walk into the nucleo Montalbán, you see dozens of children hanging outside a large building. The backdrop is a green mountain, and beyond the gates to the center, adults and children line up to buy ice cream and snacks from a couple of vendors (the parents among them will have several hours yet to wait). As you walk inside, you see a few posters displaying the nucleo’s name, and some posters have pictures of various children. Several children sit around during their break.

You ask one child what he plays and he responds, “Cuatro.” Then he takes it out of a case and plays for you. (Apologies for the video quality-- old camera with some health problems.)

You wander into the building and there are several rooms on each of the three floors. In every single room, children are packed in, playing music.

In one room, we see a group of little children singing.

In another room, a more advanced choir sings gorgeously for us (many of these singers performed in the Mahler 8 with the LA Phil and the Simon Bolivar Orchestra)

Upstairs, a large group of string players works for hours on paying attention, proper positions, and scales after only a few weeks of playing. (Notice that the kids are singing along while they play.)

Down the hall, we find a sectional of brass players. In El Sistema, everyone works very hard, but it is through the hard work together that they find joy.

This boy is 7 years old:

A second string orchestra works on their music (singing along, clapping, counting the rhythms together)

A brass, wind, and percussion ensemble works on their own pieces in addition to the orchestral repertoire. The El Sistema leaders believe that wind bands and other ensembles help the orchestras.

There’s a cuatro class! Cuatro is a traditional Venezuelan instrument. These students have only been playing a couple of months, and they’re working on theory, position, paying attention, and basic cuatro techniques. Over time, the nucleo plans to start a traditional Venezuelan folk ensemble with some of the cuatro students. Other cuatro students will go on to orchestra once they get basic music concepts down.

A cuatro teacher balances fun with disciplined work, and positions one student as a leader by showing her how to conduct.

An orchestra rehearses their repertoire. Our very own Jose-Luis inspires them. (My editing software is sub-par-- please scroll to 30 seconds in for the music. )

Some of the younger cellists in that orchestra…

Seeing El Sistema in Venezuela: Day 1 at Montalban Nucleo, The Info

On our first day in Venezuela, we visited the nucleo (or, program site) Montalbán, one of the oldest in Caracas. It's located in a building that would have been torn down, but the community insisted on using it as a space for a nucleo.

The nucleo director, a lovely young woman named Sobella, explained a few facts:

• There are almost 2000 kids at the site
• 110 teachers
• 40 administrators
• The teachers mainly come from within El Sistema
• They receive teacher training prior to starting, and during the year
• The little kids have choir to learn musical basics, 2 times per week. After age 6, children can start an instrument and join the orchestra program
• Children older than age 6 come everyday (sometimes 6 days per week) for 4 hours per day.
  
• They may not play in full orchestra each day, but will play in group sectionals (and take theory if they're beginners)
• For young beginners, there is an initiation phase to prepare for the orchestra: music theory, literacy, solfege
• For older beginners, choir is the best tool for them to learn the language of music before starting on an instrument
• Once or twice a month, all of the kids go to the main theater in Caracas to hear concerts of the professional and other children's orchestras