Insights - April 2024
Robert Howard - Co Artistic Director
Managing people 10,000 miles away has its challenges. The past week had more than most. Some are avoidable, others are not. Electricity goes out all the time, especially in the slums. Last year, someone took off with a transformer, leaving everyone in the dark for months. Leading up to the last election, we all worried about riots. Community centers were closed for weeks. Foreboding doom hovered as everyone waited. Luckily, no disasters erupted. But once it was over, the losing candidate staged riots every week for months, refusing to admit defeat.
The 11 hour time change doesn’t help either. Every night as I’m preparing for bed in California, my WhatsApp feed lights up like a Christmas tree. Live interactions are relegated to early mornings and late nights. (I’ve learned to ignore the 3am texts that inevitably come in.) Punctuality has been an issue. (One set up a Zoom meeting only to schedule another meeting!) After a few crossed wires, frustration can definitely set in.
Then there are sessions like this morning; they make it all worth it. For the past 6 weeks, I've been coaching a new string ensemble from Nairobi’s Mukuru slum. These young men and women meet on their own a couple of times a week. Their ensemble is completely self-driven. So far, they’ve played “Remember Me’ from Pixar’s Coco and the Holst “St. Paul Suite”. Just as I’m getting to my second cup of coffee here in San Francisco, they’re watching the sun set in Nairobi, eagerly awaiting their coaching. So far, they’ve chosen their own rep; I simply work with what they present.
They love playing- absolutely love it. Like most other Kenyans, these young adults share an enthusiasm and authenticity I’ve rarely encountered in the States. You can see them beaming in our photos. It’s even more palpable in real life. They all want to be there. There’s no jealousy. Competition only exists in the best sense of the word. In one concert after another, these students encourage each other and offer sincere praise as another colleague shines. They’re tickled when they master a new skill; epiphanies are gratifying for me too, even over Zoom.
Most students I work with in San Francisco have much more developed techniques. This week in California, I’ve coached a Shostakovich concerto, an Arensky Piano Trio, and the Kodaly Duo. My Kenyan students aren’t there yet. Although it’s impressive to play scales and thirds with flawless intonation (we all want to transcend the technique, after all), too often students in the US have lost their zeal. Performances can be perfect, yet generic. Accuracy and consistency are rewarded above all else. Spontaneity and individual interpretation can seem like alien concepts, even to some advanced players.
Most of the students we work with through KICF are teachers themselves. Many dream of studying and performing abroad. And almost all want to give back. But the vast majority have had limited, if any, proper training. They love music though! We had to turn away 100 people at our final Nairobi concert this January. Others were standing in the aisles. When does that ever happen in the US?
When I first visited the Korogocho Slum in 2019 I was overwhelmed. Stephen Kamau played the Bach G Major Prelude right in front of the main Nairobi landfill- plastic burning, vultures circling. He’d taught himself off a million YouTube views. Once we began working together on Zoom, I was reluctant to say anything critical. Who was I to even comment, given the vast difference in our circumstances?
But over the years, I’ve gotten to know Stephen and many others quite well. I know their families, their passions, their strengths, as well as their blind spots. We’ve learned to trust and respect one another. Sometimes, that involves honest feedback, not just sugary platitudes. At times, I’ve struggled to find ways to foster critical thinking and curiosity without killing that innate zeal. Some have really taken to the curious, but disciplined approach. There’s so much in the world we can’t control; some days playing a perfect scale can be strangely gratifying.
I recalibrate my worldview every other day when I open up Zoom. Music sparks all our imaginations and provides the ultimate passport into different cultures. We feed off each other’s energy, teacher and student alike. We get to know ourselves and one another, deepening our understanding and mutual respect. We each remember the world elsewhere and life seems lighter on both sides of the divide.
