Draw What You Hear

I had the great privilege of seeing the 20^th Season Opening Night Concert of Northwest Sinfonietta this past Saturday night. On the menu for Act I was an emotional Brahms Concerto in A minor for Violin and Cello, Op. 102, "Double Concerto" (1887). The remarkable soloists were violinist Marie Rossano and cellist Julian Schwarz. Act II served up an invigorating experience of Beethoven's Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, Op. 55, "Eroica" (1802-03). Conducting was the NW Sinfonietta's founder, the charismatic and talented Christophe Chagnard.

As I sat in the beautiful, vintage Rialto Theatre in the heart of Tacoma's Theatre District, I thought back to my childhood when listening to classical music was, not just a daily event, but a daily, all day event. My mother played piano constantly and when she wasn't playing piano she had a huge collection of classical records that rotated in rep on the hifi.  The point is; all I knew was classical music for the better part of my formative years.

On Saturday mornings my mother would put us in front of the black and white television to watch Leonard Bernstein's "Young People's Concerts with the New York Philharmonic". This program ran on and off between 1958 and 1973; quite a remarkable run, but, not surprising since Leonard Bernstein was nothing short of a music genius and national treasure. The Young People's Concert was an amazing combination of music and education sometimes mixed with art. As Bernstein conducted these programs, explaining potentially dry music terminology to a Carnegie Hall fill with children from ages 3-15, he would light up with excitement and get every child in the audience completely involved and entranced with where he was going. For instance, I remember him speaking about what "development" of a piece of music meant or how symphonic music differed from jazz or pop. At one point he did this by involving the entire audience of children by having them sing the popular French rhyme "Frere Jacques" in a variety of ways. It became a clear demonstration that brought a complex idea to life.

On another program I recall Bernstein had an artist draw on a gigantic canvas while he conducted Prokofiev's "Peter and the Wolf". How brilliant is that? My mom took this idea and ran with it. She used to put me on the floor with large craft paper, spin one of her favorites like Vivaldi's Four Seasons and would say, "Now, draw what you hear!, tell me a story."

I have been so inspired by Leonard Bernstein in my life that I recently wrote a rhyming manuscript that I turned into a TV pitch. It has morphed into a children's play and is titled "Pica & Moba; Draw What You Hear!" It's a work in progress that is trying to find its voice. At some point this work will be produced or published or maybe even both!

You see, all of these art forms are related – music, rhythm, rhyming, word play, drawing, painting, acting, singing, dance – they all share this; expression of the human spirit in it's purest form. And many times one art form influences another. A song can lead to writing a rhyming story that can lead to an idea for a dance which can lead to a painting. . . and on and on and on. That's what we want to teach our children to tap into; bringing ideas to life without editing to see where that expression lands. And it doesn't matter how they get there, as long as they get there. It is our job to be their guide and give them the freedom to experiment with their own voice.

Listening to that incredible music on Saturday night I thought, "I wonder if a version of The Young People's Concert is possible today". Leonard Bernstein influenced an entire generation of children and their love of music. Maybe there is someone out there as captivating as Leonard Bernstein. 

Hmmmm, maybe I should give Northwest Sinfonietta's Conductor Christophe Chagnard a call?