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Continual Renewal: Equity, Education, and an Evolving Organization

The Lewis Prize for Music, which supports the work of Creative Youth Development, invited each of the 2020 “Accelerator Awardees” to compose essays on responsive and collaborative leadership. CMW’s Founder & Artistic Director Sebastian Ruth contributed this piece on our organization’s evolving equity-focused work.

I started Community MusicWorks informed by experiences I had growing up in an alternative public high school that based itself on the educational ideas of Paolo Freire, among others. Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed was published just a few years before the school’s founding in the mid-1970s, and many of his ideas were central in the school philosophy– young people guiding their own learning, a democratic school governance where students carried significant leadership roles, and a curriculum that followed events of the day. I also had had experiences at Kinhaven, a summer music school in Vermont that fostered an environment for high school aged students to form deep bonds in a loving community surrounding the study of music.

The project of Community MusicWorks was to establish a musician residency in an urban community and to create musical spaces that could be a home for professional and youth musicians alike to grow in a musical community animated by values of love, self-guided learning, and social justice.

We have often defined our work as existing at an intersection of social justice practice and musical practice.

Guided by Freire and other philosophers, we have sought to combine the seemingly unlike fields of liberatory education and string music education. Despite this commitment from our founding, we have come to understand over the past several years that we need a deeper understanding about what social justice and specifically anti-racist praxis truly means across our organization—what is the evolving, dynamic understanding of justice in the organization that will inform and be informed by our actions?

A discussion two years ago focused on the most effective way forward: would it be most effective to focus first on setting policies and measurable goals, or to focus on learning at the individual and spiritual levels?

We decided the latter was the most effective way forward. Until every member of our organization is fully invested in their own learning of the histories of racism and its ramifications, of the oppressive truths of our present reality, of our own biases; and the unlearning of habitual patterns, assumptions, and adherence to the status quo, policies and new procedures won’t get us far enough. We have felt that as each person goes deeper into her/his own learning, decisions we make as an organization will be informed by an increasingly clear vision of what active anti-racist praxis can be—a constant interplay of learning and action where each informs the other.

This choice is one my colleague Ashley Frith, Director of Racial Equity and Belonging, advocated for. It is also consistent with Freire, who cautions against actions that attempt to undo oppressive conditions and only serve to re-inscribe the very patterns we’re looking to break because they don’t get at the root of the oppressions in ourselves.

The forces of structural racism are so deeply entwined with our country’s history, and white dominant culture so pervasive that it can sometimes feel that there’s no hope of making positive change as individuals, as a small organization, or even as a committed community of like-minded organizers across the country. That said, activist Grace Lee Boggs and others remind us that the patterns we set in our very local communities may be the most potent and promising actions we can take.

CMW’S EQUITY-FOCUSED WORK TODAY

Leadership and equity work at CMW has meant committing to a process of learning, with humility, on an ongoing basis.

The systems in which we work are all part of the problem, and there is no stepping outside these systems to solve problems. I think of it as swimming in polluted water: while you’re swimming you may be too close to the water to recognize how unhealthy it is to be there. Therefore we need to evaluate, analyze, reflect on an ongoing basis, and be willing to make significant changes. It’s about how we move through the world, it’s about how we examine decisions, relationships, repertoire choices, pedagogy. And from a place of increasing awareness, conversations become proactive and productive, instead of defensive and stuck.

We are now deepening our understanding of equity, diversity, and belonging through: 1) a social justice/equity task force; 2) a monthly seminar to support ongoing learning among our staff; 3) a new staff role (mentioned above), the Director of Racial Equity and Belonging, which will facilitate learning across the organization and across the MusicWorks Network of organizations; 4) a weekly reading for staff, board, and the Network focused on the societal oppressions that affect so much of our work; and 5) a weekly discussion hour, sometimes in racial affinity groups, to support our continued learning and dialogue.

Overall, we have come to understand that equity work is ongoing work. Just as Freire describes an educational practice that needs to adapt and change as the world changes, so organizational practice needs to be constantly attuned to a growing understanding of the systemic oppressions affecting people’s lives.

EVOLVING OUR YOUTH PROGRAMS

As we think about students who move through CMW’s programs, we have been focused on how students gradually add skills of artistic citizenship at age-appropriate levels along the way. The hope is that young people increasingly see their musicianship as a pathway to greater agency and participation in their communities through music.

For a six-year-old entering the programs, this may mean that in their lesson they are doing technique-building exercises alongside short interviews with their teacher in which they are considering what fairness means to them related to current events. When they’re ten or eleven, artistic citizenship may mean participation in a group discussion with their ensemble peers about a current event, and what they are learning about it from school, home, or from peers. And at age sixteen, students may be working with peers in the Phase II program to consider how they can use their voices as young artists to make a significant contribution to discourse in the city.

A growing thread in our work involves reimagining the ways students engage with the music they learn, including with pieces we all play together around social justice themes. A few years ago, the whole student body learned and wrote new lyrics to the protest anthem We Shall Overcome. Studying the history of the song, we learned that people in different struggles have contributed lyrics specific to their times. Inviting CMW students to dig in and reflect on the question of overcoming in their communities animated the experience of learning that song in new ways. That sparked an annual tradition of choosing a song for us all to engage in, and also sparked a new class theme of students writing their own music as part of the experience of learning violin, viola, or cello.

Every spring when teens in our Phase II program create and host the annual “Youth Salon” I am filled with a sense of hope and excitement for a youth-led future in our programs and our city. Seeing young people tackle complex contemporary challenges and creatively weave their musical voices into an event of dialogue, performance, and interaction affirms the belief that a liberated future starts with the wisdom of young people.

More broadly, I think a liberated future grows out of the proliferation of youth arts spaces like CMW, which nurture in young people a sense of belonging, and where young people grow to expect their voice and leadership to effect change in both their local communities and in civic spaces across our society.

The path to social justice practice, anti-racist practice, and equity in our organization is an ongoing project without a singular destination. We know that considering young people’s lives, our work cannot proceed on their behalf without a deep commitment from all adults in the organization to be learners, and to be understanding of the implications and roots of our work. No project of equitable practice situates that work only in young people and their outcomes. The whole project takes on its significance when everyone is on a journey of awareness and change.

— Sebastian Ruth
Founder & Artistic Director

Learn more about the Lewis Prize for Music and read essays by Accelerator Awardees Ian Mouser and Brandon Steppe here: www.thelewisprize.org

Illustration by Cesali Morales

 

Welcome to Season 24!

Welcome to Community MusicWorks’ Season 24!  

Each spring we look to the coming season and consider the musical projects, ambitions, and themes we want to realize. This year we are also staying tuned to the hidden opportunities.

In the early months of the pandemic, we realized we could invite far-away friends to join us for student performances, have guest artists teach from anywhere in the world, and we could compose pieces for our musicians to play separately from home. We are learning about the hidden opportunities of virtual performances, remote learning, and sustaining bonds of community at safe distances.

Clearly, as we carry on during this remarkable year, our plans need to remain adaptable to the evolving conditions in front of us. 

So, for Season 24 our theme is: flexibility!

Season 24 begins in the open air with mobile concerts staged from a rented truck in as many homes and neighborhoods as we can visit, and with outdoor safe-distanced performances of solos, duets, and quartets. 

Our Sonata Series continues with streamed concerts of solos and duos, and our overnight Bach marathon returns as an online audio-only event with guest musicians appearing from far and wide. We are excited to continue a partnership with Dorcas International to collaborate with musicians from the refugee community in Rhode Island and feature new arrangements of traditional songs and compositions created for the occasion.

This year, as we launch our 2020-2025 strategic plan, we deepen our commitment to anti-racist work, including intentional choices in musical programming that honors the many voices in our community. 

When possible, we look forward to being together for music making and community building in person and thank you for joining us in the multiple formats Community MusicWorks explores this season!

–Sebastian Ruth, Founder & Artistic Director

Click to read our Season 24 Program Book

 

Watch: CMW Fellows Quartet Online Event

Solo Quartet: CMW Fellows Quartet Online Event

How does a string quartet make music in isolation?

The CMW Fellows Quartet presents Solo Quartet, a virtual concert experience reimagined for and reflective of this time when many are separated and alone. In this presentation, our four Fellows share solo performances in an wide-ranging mix embracing classical, pop, improvisational, vocal, and Gamelan forms, and pair for insightful conversations that draw us deeper into their musical sources of comfort and inspiration.

Click here for your direct link to the event!

 

Reflections

This week, as we are made painfully aware yet again of the urgency to address systemic racism, some reflections. 

CMW has been working to define social justice in our musical practice since our founding, but more intensively over the last four years. As with any deep investigation, it seems that every question we raise reveals five more questions to ask. 

We have come to the realization that to be an organization dedicated to the practices of anti-racism and anti-oppression, we need to operate at multiple levels simultaneously: at the level of investigating policies and practices, repertoire and pedagogy, board and staff hiring, diversity and equity plans. And on the other hand, we need to devote ourselves to the ongoing work of education and healing for individuals in our community. 

While we swim in polluted waters, while we live in  a society that takes for granted the idea that white is “normal,” saying nothing of male, cis, and straight, there is so much to unlearn. And there is so much history to relearn about the very real history, as CMW alum Liam Hopkins so poignantly put it, that racism is a tremendously resilient force that has not been successfully legislated away, despite efforts 150 years ago, 50 years ago and at many other points in our history. 

Only through the difficult yet liberating work of reading, talking, reframing and reflecting; only through the work for those of us who are white, of coming to terms with our resistance, our privilege, our oblivion can we begin to shift in ourselves the way we see the world, and the way we act in it.

The oppressive forces of structural racism are too vast for any of us to tackle alone or even in our organizations or political groups, and that fact can itself be devastating to consider. However, as Grace Lee Boggs reminded us in her final years, revolutionaries are people who change the world by changing themselves.

As we reel from the tragedies of George Floyd’s death, the deaths of Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and the countless numbers of Black people before them, many in our community of students, musicians, and families are traumatized yet again. 

As an organization whose purpose is to put music into the role of bringing people into community so that their voices – musical and otherwise – are heard and amplified, we mourn, and recommit to the urgency of action.

Sebastian Ruth
Founder & Artistic Director

Finding Spring

Downcity Providence in early spring.

There is an unexpected sense of adventure that comes with the unknown. When I first moved to Providence as a new CMW Violin Fellow nine months ago, I was eager to experience new adventures. I was no stranger to moving around frequently, having lived in different places every 2 to 4 years since I started college. What made this move particularly exciting was that I had finally found the perfect job. I had learned about CMW in my sophomore year of college, but had never been free to apply for the Fellowship due to my schooling and work schedule. It seemed too good to be true: a job where I could teach music in a meaningful way, tackle and understand problems like racism and social inequality, and perform for the community. It checked every single box that I was looking for when I was an optimistic sophomore piecing together my life. Six years after, I was offered the opportunity to see if this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

I am now 8 months into this job. It still checks all of the boxes for me, but it has had its unique struggles. The teaching is not the hard part. The rehearsing and collaborating with my coworkers don’t really present the biggest challenges. It’s the racism part that comes back to me all the time. There is never a moment when I don’t notice it.  Let me explain: Almost like a hazing ceremony, the very first thing that I had to attend as a Fellow was the MusicWorks Network Institute, where other non-profit organizations joined with CMW for a week to discuss the topic of racism in classical music. It was exactly like being pushed into frozen lake water without warning. I had taken race-relation courses in college and was also a part of a multi-ethnic Christian student group that frequently talked about these things, but I had never looked at it in the context of classical music. I was made to question several things. Why do we play the music that we do? Who determines what is good and what isn’t? Is music theory really the only way to understand music, and why don’t we teach other musical concepts from different cultures? What kind of role do Asians and Asian Americans play in the classical music field and are we perpetuating racist ideologies? Who is allowed to participate in classical music? As of now, I can tell you that I don’t have concrete answers to any of these questions, but I frequently think about them, especially when pondering what and how to teach my students.

And after a while, you find that it seems useless! Why waste all this energy swimming upstream if the tiny things you’re changing in your lessons or concert programming don’t even really stick with your students or audience? I started to think that I was mistaken in my endeavors or that I had a sense of self-importance that was misplaced. For many kids, playing the violin is just another extracurricular activity amidst the myriad other things they have to deal with every day, and they treat it as such. While this is definitely not my first encounter with this attitude, the meaning that I had assigned to my job made this realization a much harder blow to my spirit than in previous encounters.

One day, during one of our monthly teaching discussions, Sebastian brought up something in response to a statement about how playing the violin is a privilege. This sentiment is something that I had always believed growing up: treat your instrument like a treasure, don’t forget that most kids don’t have this opportunity that you do. Sebastian challenged this idea, saying that we actually don’t want the kids to think that violin is a privilege. This misplaced idea is just another piece of the racism that is prevalent in classical music. That’s when it all clicked into place. My mind drew this parallel: education was at one point seen as something that only the upper class could receive, but now, it is seen as a right for all, especially with the internet at our fingertips. How strange would it be for someone to say “This child shouldn’t have the right to learn math if he can’t even pay attention in class. He doesn’t even have adequate school supplies.” There aren’t very many people who would voice this kind of opinion. And this is how I came to realize that I am not changing a person’s life by allowing them to become a talented violinist; I am changing the system by saying that every child can and should learn an instrument if they want to.

As COVID-19 brings us further into the unknown, I am stuck at home, but still blessed in so many ways. I am teaching my students and having meetings with my CMW coworkers through video calls, and it brightens my day to be able to see everyone once a week despite the lack of physical connection. I try to maintain some semblance of a routine, although I can confess to you all that I am rather hopeless without obligations or a schedule. If I can get one thing done in a day, that is enough for me.

Sometimes, I feel guilty about not taking action when so many people, like healthcare workers, retail workers, delivery service workers, and city workers, are risking their lives to give us a shot at returning to normalcy. But I believe every person has a role to play, and I want to fulfill mine, especially when it’s something as easy as staying home. As we were brainstorming different ways for CMW to reach out and stay connected to the community during these times, the idea of getting a glimpse into the teachers’ lives through social media channels was suggested, and it felt like the right thing for me to do. I play violin and sing and share these things because that is what I have to offer, even if it is out of my comfort zone as a very introverted and shy person. Just like Sebastian provided that one glitter of gold wisdom that helped me to look past the surrounding sedimentary rock, I want to try and provide my own speck of gold while navigating this new territory of social isolation.

In my small group for the church that I attend, we had a very poignant discussion about hope that really helped me to work out my own emotions about this situation. Truthfully, I’ve been feeling a little more hopeful as things have gotten further and further away from normal. I wonder if this sliver of unknown is like a chance to restart for the broken world that we live in, or even a way for us to remember the things we really should be cherishing. Without this uncertainty, I don’t think hope can actually exist in the powerful way that it has been these past couple of weeks, as I feel the community band together and try to give a helping hand to each other. One of my favorite quotes comes from the Korean journalist Kim Dae O: “Spring doesn’t come to us from afar, but even now, it is coming from beneath our feet. We were born without a reason, and we should keep on living without a reason.” I always feel something stir inside of me when I read these words, as if to remind myself that I’m only human, that I can only accomplish a finite amount of things. And that is enough.
One of my favorite quotes comes from the Korean journalist Kim Dae O: “Spring doesn’t come to us from afar, but even now, it is coming from beneath our feet. We were born without a reason, and we should keep on living without a reason.”
These days, I find myself looking for spring with increasing fervor as I ponder the events that are going on without me outside my window. Perhaps it looks like the moment when you’re stopped at a light on a dirty metropolitan road, shocked by the delicate baby pink flowers bursting forth from the tree beside you when everything else is in monochrome. Your eyes widen for just a moment at the blossoms, and then you continue to drive on home when the light turns green, your mind lingering on the audacity of the tree.
Kimberly Fang
Violin Fellow 2019-2021
Kimberly Fang, violinist, is a native of Florida and was always curious about what else the world had to offer. Once she got a taste of the transformative power of music as a teen, she was determined to bring that same awe-inspiring experience to the next generation. She graduated from Northwestern University with a Bachelor of Music in violin performance and music education and earned a Masters in Violin from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Before coming to CMW, Kimberly lived in Taipei, teaching English and freelancing as an opportunity to learn more about her heritage and to expand her teaching experiences. Working with young children is her passion, and she has taught in many capacities, including privately, in public schools, online, and in all kinds of subjects. In her spare time, she loves to sing and was a part of a collegiate a cappella group, the Northwestern University Treblemakers.

Spring Events Update

Due to the ongoing health crisis, all of our CMW spring performance events have been canceled, postponed until the fall, or will be reimagined for online viewing. We will update calendar information in the coming weeks as we work to shift programming.

To get the latest in CMW updates, click here to sign up for our enews, print mailings and to follow us on social media.

We are sending our wishes for your well-being and safety during this time, and look forward to being together again for music soon.

 

 

CMW Community Resources

Mesmerizing and Perplexing: Prokofiev’s Sonata in C Major

Cellist Holly Dyer recalls her first impression of Prokofiev’s piece in anticipation of her performance at Thursday’s Sonata Series Event. Photo by Erin X. Smithers.

I remember the first time I heard Sergei Prokofiev’s Sonata in C Major for Cello and Piano, Op. 119 in a student master class during my freshman undergraduate year at Boston University. I was immediately drawn into the sonorous opening solo cello line played in the rich lower register of the instrument. The entrance of the piano a few measures later, also in a middle-lower register of the instrument, sublimely complimented the cello as the pair began the journey of this sonata. The cello then introduced a contrasting childlike second theme played in canon with the piano, followed by a contrasting theme of energetic runs as if a parent were nagging that childlike theme. At the end of the movement, the cello launched into a fury of runs in the higher register that juxtaposed with the piano’s grandiose chords. This rather quickly dissolved into an airy, almost haunting swirl of harmonics in the cello, which, considering the touch of post-War themes, has been considered to echo Prokofiev’s violin sonata as a “wind over the graveyard,” as if the fury that precedes it touches on the terrors of the fatality of the war.

Prokofiev wrote the sonata in 1949 and it premiered shortly afterward at the Moscow Conservatory. This piece was written toward the end of the Russian composer’s life–he died in 1953–and he was in ill health and could not be present for the performance. The piece was written for and premiered by Russian cellist Mstislav Rostropovich (1927–2007) a musician considered to be one of the greatest and most prominent cellists of the 20th century, and who inspired and commissioned a number of works for cello that have been added to the standard cello repertoire.

The intense post-WWII political climate had an effect on this piece, in both reflecting on the horrors that the war brought and having being written during the time of Stalin’s regime in Soviet Russia, where any piece of art that showed disobedience to the Russian government could have resulted in death.

The themes, sounds, and sonority in the first movement of Prokofiev’s sonata are mesmerizing just as the motives in the second and third movements are perplexing. In the second movement a light-hearted, witty, almost satirical main theme is interrupted by a warm, and beautiful second theme that almost seems like it should exist in the first movement. The third movement shows a variety of themes in contrasting colors where it’s difficult to see the line between what is ironic and what is genuine. This final movement would also be considered the most virtuosic and musically-complex of the three, and the finale of the piece ends in a flourish that shows positivity in response to the wit and horror that one experiences throughout the sonata.

When the opportunity came to present for this year’s Sonata Series, I knew that I wanted to explore Sergei Prokofiev’s Sonata in C Major for Cello and Piano. I love this piece, and it is one of my favorite sonatas of all-time. I look forward to sharing it with all of you this Thursday, where I am joined by pianist Jeff Louie and my colleague, violinist Sarah Kim, who’ll perform Ravel’s Violin Sonata No. 2.


Holly Dyer is a cellist and CMW Fellow.

Join us Thursday, February 20 at 7pm at RISD Museum’s Grand Gallery, 20 North. Main Street, Providence. Admission to the Museum and concert is free as part of the Museum’s Third Thursday series.

 

 

CMW Receives the Lewis Prize for Music

We’re proud to be one of three recipients of The Lewis Prize for Music‘s inaugural “Accelerator Award” and share the honor with two amazing non-profits building positive change through music. Learn more about them in this inspiring video!

Community MusicWorks has been selected as one of three organizations to receive an “Accelerator Award” from The Lewis Prize for Music, a newly established philanthropy that’s ambitiously investing in music leaders to facilitate positive change and increase access to music education.

A total of nearly $2 million is being awarded to leaders of music programs and organizations across the country. Each of the 2020 Lewis Prize for Music awardees is doing extraordinary work to ensure every young person has access to high-quality music learning, performance, and creation opportunities by building community, fostering engaged citizens and supporting the holistic growth of young people.

“My vision is to ensure opportunities to learn, perform and create music are available to all young people,” said Daniel R. Lewis, Founder and Chairman of The Lewis Prize for Music. “Ideally, this would be happening in every school, but that isn’t the case, especially in low-income and historically marginalized communities. It’s inspiring to see smart, focused, motivated leaders of community organizations addressing this gap by collaborating with schools and other youth services, such as foster youth, juvenile justice, and other arts organizations.”

Lewis, whose father co-founded Progressive insurance company, spent most of his career there before retiring over 19 years ago and becoming an active philanthropist in the musical arts field. With this year’s launch of The Lewis Prize for Music, Lewis has committed to awarding at least $15 million over the next five years.

The Lewis Prize for Music has established an innovative three-tier awarding approach in announcing its inaugural awards of the following amounts:


Accelerator Awards – $500,000 each

Accelerator Awards provide multi-year support to enable leaders and organizations to make sustained progress toward ambitious community change initiatives that align with The Lewis Prize for Music’s values and vision.

  • Sebastian Ruth and Community MusicWorks (Providence, RI) are identifying and rethinking the euro-centric norms of classical music to foster more egalitarian and inclusive musical practices.
  • Brandon Steppe and The David’s Harp Foundation (San Diego, CA) have developed “Beats Behind the Wall” as a pathway for incarcerated young men and women to develop job skills through music and “Beats Beyond the Wall” for their further development and employment as instructors and audio engineers upon release.
  • Ian Mouser and My Voice Music (Portland, OR) bring songwriting, recording and performance to lockdown facilities, such as mental health treatment and detention centers, to help young people heal. My Voice Music counters the effects of trauma by engaging young people as artists and poets with powerful stories to share.


Infusion Awards – $50,000 each

Infusion Awards provide single year support to leaders and programs creating new musical platforms and pathways in their communities.

  • Clare Hoffman and Grand Canyon Music Festival’s Native American Composer Apprentice Project (Grand Canyon, AZ) inspire the next generation of Native music educators and composers.
  • Michael Reyes, Liz Stone and We Are Culture Creators (Detroit, MI) train and open employment pathways for 18 to 24-year-old music creatives.
  • Eugene Rodriguez and Los Cenzontles Cultural Arts Academy (San Pablo, CA) ensure children of immigrants feel pride, value their roots, and share their culture through the study of traditional Mexican music.
  • Derrick Tabb and The Roots of Music (New Orleans, LA) support and instruct the next generation of New Orleans brass band musicians.


Finalist Awards – $25,000 each

Finalist Awards provide single year support to leaders and programs with impressive impact and reach.

  • Joseph Conyers and Project 440 (Philadelphia, PA) provide teen musicians with entrepreneurial training so they develop the competencies to thrive as individuals and collectively.
  • Kasandra VerBrugghen and Spy Hop Productions (Salt Lake City, UT) mentor young people in musical and digital media arts to help them find their voice and tell their stories to affect positive change.

The Lewis Prize for Music received a total of 188 applications from 32 states and the District of Columbia. Awardees were chosen through a rigorous process that incorporated input from diverse music leaders and young people involved in creative youth development. Additional information about the process and profiles of The Lewis Prize awardees can be found at: https://www.thelewisprize.org/finalists-2020.

About The Lewis Prize for Music

The Lewis Prize for Music believes that music in the lives of young people is a catalytic force to drive positive change in our society. It partners with leaders in diverse and vibrant communities who invest in young people by providing access to safe, inclusive spaces where they can build powerful relationships through music.

The organization is the brainchild of philanthropist Daniel R. Lewis, who has spent the last 19 years focusing on philanthropic efforts in the social and musical arts field, including founding the Miami Music Access Fellowship, serving as the founding chairman of The Cleveland Orchestra Miami Residency/Miami Music Association, chairman of the Spring For Music Festival and chairman of The Management Center. Learn more at www.thelewisprize.org.

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