The year of beginnings.

It's almost the end of my freshman year of college... the year of "beginnings" so to speak. It's an overwhelming thought. I'm excited because of the tremendous growth that I've experienced this year, and I'm excited at the prospect of many years to come. And yet, it's bittersweet, because the year of beginnings is coming to an end, and I now have to leave this place with which I've grown so comfortable. I was fortunate enough to engage in a very intriguing conversation this week, one that I feel is in desperate need of telling.

I was browsing the Container Store one afternoon with my friend Lauren. It was warm, muggy and overcast - the type of weather that makes you uncomfortable and cranky. We were searching for, well, containers. And where else to go but the Container Store? After finding a couple totes that we found were most suitable for our summer storage needs, we both realized that neither one of us had the least bit desire to trudge back to our dorms with the extra burden of 66 gallons of space and plastic. So, we hailed a cab. Or rather, two cabs.

After I hopped in the taxi, the driver struck up a conversation with me, which I normally find odd and sometimes annoying. I hate making small talk, especially when I can't understand what someone else is trying to say. But this man, dressed in boots, jeans, a denim jacket and a cowboy hat, was a conversation guru. He began by stating that containers were growing increasingly expensive, which to my disappointment, is completely true. (This is one of those moments when I miss things known as Wal-Mart and Idaho Falls, where you can buy a large tupperware tote for under $10.) He asked me how long I had been living in the city and what I was doing here, which inadvertently led to his inquiry about my major. After telling him that I was studying opera, he brought up the topic that has been plaguing my mind all week. My roommate Betty posted the link to a very incredible article on my Facebook wall regarding the under appreciation and lack of funding for not only the arts, but for opera in particular in America.

I highly recommend reading it. It's a short read, super simple, and very thought-provoking.
http://jenniferrivera.squarespace.com/blog/2012/4/6/arts-in-america.html

This woman, Jennifer Rivera, wrote this blog in response to a prompt that was projected by Spring for Music as part of their annual blogger challenge. Their prompt was, "Many countries have ministries of culture. Does America need a secretary of culture or a secretary of the arts? Why or why not?"

Rivera posits that as artists, we have a social responsibility to uphold, protect and advance the arts. While studying at Juilliard, she was involved in an "Arts in Education" class in which she taught two classes a week for under privileged first and second graders in the New York public school system. The experience that she gained was life-changing and rewarding - not only for her, but for the students. By the end of the semester, she said that "their collective excitement was absolutely unabashed" - and what an incredible image! First and second graders excited - truly excited - about opera.

And so, you can imagine my surprise at this Bulgarian taxi driver's deep appreciation for opera. His sister was a singer, he said, yet she never studied professionally. It was incredible - this conversation was so timely and coincidental. And as he continued to express his utter disdain for popular culture, I brought in the idea of educating our youth in the classical arts - both visually and musically. It has to start young, I posited, as echoes of Rivera's article reverberated in my head, and we have to take action. Because art appreciation can only lead to increased interest, which consequentially will provide more funding. And more funding will inadvertently turn into more opportunities for performers that have spent their lives working twice as hard for under-appreciated, mundane gigs with little pay. Because the life of a performer, unfortunately, is only defined in terms of "fame" and "success". But I have to agree with Rivera, whose vision for opera is echoed in the hearts of opera singers and advocates around the world. The extent of our career does not stop at the stage door - we are forever artistic ambassadors - our own "ministers of culture".

James Baldwin once said, "The world changes according to how people see it, and if you alter, even by a millimeter, the way people look at reality, then you can change it." And when we take the malleable perceptions of children and expose them to the beautiful production of an art that has become so foreign and estranged to a culture that recognizes auto-tuning and synthesizers as musical talent, we can and do change reality. Rivera confidently believes that the first and second graders she worked with will "have a different association with opera than most of their peers, who simply have never been exposed to anything like it". American culture has long associated classical music to a very specific target audience. In the words of Alex Ross, "The classical audience is assumed to be a moribund crowd of the old, the white, the rich and the bored" (Listen to This). But when I picture Rivera's second graders, begging to hear her play the opera L'Enfant et les Sortileges to sing along to, I feel as though I'm drowning in potential.  

The solution to this problem is so accessible, it leaves me thirsty for change.

It's not just up to opera singers, classical musicians or rich old patrons. If my Bulgarian semi-cowboy taxi driver is talking about it, you can be too. So please, I ask you, share your thoughts with me. Share my thoughts with others if you concur. Help me to be an artistic ambassador - because the potential for change is at our fingertips!

Altering millimeters,

-Emily