Carol McAnn, the theater teacher, told me a chilling story last night. Last summer, at the ballet academy, there was a ten-year-old girl from Baghdad who was really the star of the academy. She showed a huge amount of progress and potential and the teachers felt that she would ultimately be the core of a future Iraqi ballet program.
This past fall, after they returned to Baghdad, the girl and her whole family were killed by fundamentalists after they found out about the girl's dancing. The crime was sensationally brutal, even by Baghdadi standards-- in a city where extreme violence is the norm, the crime remained at the top of the headlines for a week.
This causes me to reconsider what we are doing here in a different light. As it is, I have been wondering how much good we are doing. Especially for the more talented students, I feel like we are holding out the promise of something which is really unattainable for them. It is nearly impossible to get a visa to leave here, even to study in another country, no matter how talented, and it seems unlikely that Suleimany or Kurdistan in general is going to have a viable classical music scene in this generation, even if it manages to remain peaceful and stable. Are we really doing them a favor to train them and instill this love for music in them?
The question gets infintely more complicated if we must worry that we are training them in a skill that might ultimately put them in danger. I don't know where my line of responsibility ends. Carol consoles herself with the fact that she brought so much joy and pride to the girl in the last summer of her life, but if I knew that my horn student would be killed for playing, I think that I would send him away and tell him to find another way to occupy his time. Since there is no way to know, I keep on teaching as best as I can and hope the consequences are mostly good.
Things continue well in these last few days at the academy. The band is improving remarkably and today I was able to announce that we would add the more difficult Danse Diabolique to the program. Smiles and and a spontaneous round of self-appreciative applause. An Iraqi television crew arrived in the middle of rehearsal to interview me. I gave them some boilerplate about how well the band had been prepared by Mr. Najat. Hopefully he remains an ally.
A funny incident in band rehearsal-- like any band director worth his salt, I have been cajoling and pleading for more dynamics almost unceasingly with sparse results. Today at break the clarinet section called me over to witness a presentation. Apparently they feel that one of their number has consistently failed to play anything but forte no matter how much I lean on them. So they presented him with a cheap charm necklace with a little "p" on it (for piano). He took it well, and it was a good laugh all around.
Tonight, my horn student, Goran; my translator, Fazil and one of their friends took me out for a bite to eat and to see a little more of Sulemani. We first went to an antique shop in the museum district. It was filled with dusty detritus from the past century and a half of occupation and wars here. Russian samovars, Turkish scimitars, coins from Iraq, Syria, Jordan and Saudi Arabia, old phonographs and rifles, photographs of a Kurdish martyr being hanged in Iran.... It was dusty and disorganized, but it gave a real sense of what this area has been through over the generations.
Afterwards, we went to the Zara market, a new and brightly lit supermarket filled with items both local and imported from Europe and America. Upstairs was a cafe serving both local and western-style items. I think Goran was a little disappointed when I opted to have Shwarma instead of "humburger" but I did get what the Kurds call "finger chips"-- french fries. Is that a british-ism?
Must be up bright and early tomorrow. We drop by the visa office as our ten-day tourist visa is about to run out!
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9 comments:
Andrew- Today's blog brought me nearly to tears, and I can tell you in absolute terms that this is greater proof than ever that your work is crucial. Music is about hope and healing. Not everyone is ready for that message, but those who are need it desperately. You're right, many of the students you teach will remain in danger for a long time, but you're bringing them the vision of something else, a different possibility for the future. That vision is the most powerful gift that you can give them; even if they don't play with dynamics.
This was indeed a difficult posting to read. What a tragedy! I wonder how the dance teacher feels. Is she able to discuss her emotions at all?
Your information continues to be incredible. Stay safe, and congratulations on the band's success.
I've been reading a collection of Bartok's letters and in reading them tonight (during very long periods of dialogue while sitting in the pit) I kept thinking of your post.
I always have admired Bartok's ethnomusicological work, particularly because he seemed to find sheer joy in discovering the diversity even within cultures of central and eastern Europe - cultures which were threatened with extinction by the dominant political forces. Even under extreme oppression, people clung to their folk songs, their music, dance, costumes, and fables - not because of any sense of nationalism or ethnic identity.
Art (whether moral or immoral[!]) is the connective fabric of humanity. The need to create, to be expressive, to gain knowledge through expression is as essential to life as food and water. In the US, it's easy to consider art a luxury. During my headier days of reading Howard Zinn 24/7, I used to wonder if somehow the propagation of western art music wasn't some form of cultural imperialism. In fact, I was wrong. A folk musician and a symphonist fundamentally have the same basic need for expression.
My sense of what I read about the young dancer is that she had to dance. If someone had tried to talk her out of it, I think she would have ignored that person and danced even more, with greater purpose.
These students, it seems to me, once you remove the language barriers and the defensive mechanisms that are common to young students all over the world, are there because they want to be. Or, maybe because the have to be - not out of some kind of dramatic geo-political reason, but because of a fundamental need to be human.
If these students wouldn't be learning from you, they'd be searching for other people and other ways to be able to create. Given that perspective, who better than you to give them what they need?
I'm reminded of something John Mack used to say. I hope you'll forgive the Christian origins of it, but he was a preacher's kid after all. When asked about teaching he would paraphrase Luke; "If a child asks you for bread, would you give him a stone?"
I agree with oboeadam. And I would add this--that the presence or viability of a music "scene" is almost irrelevant. I doubt your students have illusions of a career in music, and to me, that almost makes your work more valuable.
I'm sure you've heard this quote, from Leonard Bernstein's speech following JFK's assasination: "This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before."
Thanks Andrew, Adam and all for your comments--
You make the world a better place with your music, your teaching and your love.
I am not good at this. I just wrote a very long philosophical and encouraging response to your last post and then lost it all by clicking in the wrong place. Oh well, perhaps it is for the best.
The gist of it was that music and art have been motivators through out history and have helped people survive incredible hardships and muster the courage to challenge the worst situations. They bring people together and even humming a song can be an act of defiance against oppression. You never know the affect many of your actions have on others. Having known you for most of your life, I can assure you that many people are a lot happier because of yours.
I have been an active and avid reader of your blog. I thought that I had to get a gmail account before I could respond, so that is why you haven't heard from me before. We are all very excited about the possibility of having you back in Boston. In any case, we always love to see you when you have time in your schedule. In the meantime I will continue to kvell (even if I am not really entitled to) as I follow your adventures through life. As you must know, I love you a lot.
Karr-Karr,
Your blog is fascinating! I've told several people to check in on it.
Nice comments Adam, eloquent as always. No need to apologize for the Christian origins. Would you have apologized had the text been Buddhist, or from the Hindu tradition? Poor Christianity, so out of fashion these days.
Karr, the accounts of your students are heart-breaking and poignant. You're doing great things, and they love you!
When do you return? It sounds as though your work is very worthwhile, but I think we will all be relieved to have you back.
If you put a smile on their faces for even 5 minutes and help them believe that life can be normal for even a short time, your work there is worthwhile, and it's clear you are doing much more than that. I can't philosophize eloquently as so many of your friends (and your sister) have, but I know you are doing good things there. In this very same blog, you describe the great success you're had with the band--you didn't believe they could play your Danse Diabolique, and think how good they must feel about themselves now.
Keep it up, but keep safe, too.
Okay, you have rendered me speechless..and overflowing with emotion.
This is why we do this!
You know that old quote "I know why the caged bird sings"? You have to have some release from insanity, and there's no better way than with art.
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