America: Diverse Land of Creativity

"The arts cross international lines and boundaries by definition. We depend on and benefit from cross-pollination and ensuring a fertile and rich landscape of creativity. As we debate the merits of immigration, we do well to remember that music and art, to say nothing of many other disciplines, require and benefit from, indeed soar higher by integrating the views and talents of others from around the world." —Official statement from Peabody Conservatory Dean, Fred Bronstein, about the contributions of immigrants at Peabody.

The Score of Creativity

Lately, the word protest evokes images of thousands of people taking to the streets, holding large signs with powerful words and images to inspire action. On February 16, 2017, ‘A Day Without Immigrants’ saw protests fitting this description across America. The impact of these types of protests is critical mass. The ability for people who feel undermined and silenced to be seen and heard. But in the melodic halls of the Johns Hopkins Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore something else was underway-- a monthly performance of the top string students.

The Peabody Conservatory is housed in a beautiful historic building that is located in the heart of Baltimore. It was created in 1857 by George Peabody who grew up one of seven, in poverty, in Massachusetts. He came to Baltimore to apprentice as a merchant and banker and upon finding success gifted the conservatory to the city because “he believed in the power of the artist to enrich the lives of others.” His philanthropy led the way for his peers to create Johns Hopkins University, Enoch Pratt Free Library, and The Walters Museum- all in central Baltimore.

The school now draws students from 16 countries and is almost 50% students of color. I have walked the hallways many times to take my daughter to class with deliberate slowness as each step revealed beautiful operatic voices, melancholic and feisty string instruments, and persistent pianos. The score of creativity never gets old. The Thursday noon recitals are a celebration of the focus it takes to perform at a world renowned level.

I made the trip because Yoshiaki Horiguchi, Mr. Yoshi, my daughter’s cello teacher was performing. Mr. Yoshi’s musical career was largely due to the support his family, friends, and teachers gave him. When he was accepted to the University of Maryland Baltimore College as an undergrad on a full music scholarship he knew part of his musical pursuit would be in music education.

He received his teaching certifications as he continued to practice three hours a day determined to improve his skills with the bass but also the cello and violin. Post graduation he made a professional living with his passion through orchestra performances, private school lessons, and individual lessons. However, he also joined the Baltimore Symphony Orch Kids Program designed to create social change and create musicians in Baltimore City Public Schools. Yoshi joined Peabody as a graduate student to continue his growth as a musician.

Positive Contributions

My daughter and I entered Griswold hall with its gilded bronze doors and its massive organ. Elegant, pristine, serious. Juhyeon Kim opened the recital and drew the audience in with her brilliant and intense passion. Then it was Yoshiaki Horiguchi's turn. Tall and smiling he walked in with his massive double bass and greeted the audience. Instead of playing he said this, "Today is 'A Day Without Immigrants' . I am an immigrant[…]”

Mr. Yoshi, or Yoshi as his friends call him, emigrated with his parents from Japan when he was five and his brother was three. His mother handed him a violin as a toddler but it didn’t really stick. During middle school in Montgomery County, MD he was matched with the bass after he walked into orchestra with the same violin he had as a toddler. His teachers told him he had to be in Jazz Club and gave him lessons during their lunch time and after school. Yoshi absorbed it all. By junior year in high school he was principal bassist at his school orchestra, the state orchestra, and top of the youth orchestra. This dedication took him straight through college.

“[…] and instead of playing my four pieces I invite you to take these next twelve minutes to silently contemplate on the positive impact that immigrants have had in your life. If you are bothered by this I urge you to contemplate on the work of Shostakovich who used his music to subvert the communist regime."

The audience paused, suspended, unsure. I closed my eyes and kept saying "love is love is love," because I had never been in a protest surrounded by strangers whom I didn't know where their allegiance lay. I held my five year old daughter's hand.

Communication Through The Song of Silence

A few minutes later a woman behind me pretending to whisper began to express her disdain for Yoshi’s performance. "This is so stupid. If you don't appreciate what you have here then you should leave. I pay for tuition that's the difference. This is absolutely ridiculous."

The audience member had a right to her protest as much as Yoshi. The difference is that her protest was filled with assumptions that he did not earn the right to be where he was and was taking something from her. And in a way she was right. He was abstaining from the traditional performer audience relationship. The recital was free and open to the public and he used his greatest gift to make a point—the humans behind the music have value. We all benefits from the sharing of the talent immigrants bring. But she only saw Yoshi as undeserving and ungrateful. If she actually had spoken to him this is what she would have found out.

Yoshi is an AEGON USA Scholar. While his mother made sure they lived in the best school districts in Maryland and D.C., financially it was very difficult. “Home was not a great calm situation. It [music] was my refuge. The place where I could find security and develop myself as a person and feel I have family and that I was worth something because I wasn’t getting so much of that at home throughout high school. When I got put into foster care in junior year I had that. Music was the only thing stable in my life and track n field.” It was this desire to contribute, to belong despite the odds, like most immigrants, that fueled his desire to excel and give back .

A gentleman behind me turned around as the woman’s distaste grew. He asked her to be respectful. She refused. He reminded her that she didn't have to stay that she had a choice. Another woman chimed in with, “this is so stupid, I didn't come for this”.

Many times protesters are seen as provocateurs not having any impact beyond that day, but protesters are just that an interruption in the every day. They mean to stir feeling, provoke introspection, inspire action. Yoshi describes this effect in music.

“When you play what people don’t expect it invokes a reaction. Did I make you feel something? The difference between a technician and a musician is a musician communicates emotion by playing differently. Music is when you make people feel something, when It stands for something, when you are not just playing notes .”

At the heart of all protests is risk. We have seen the ‘Fallout From of the Day Without Immigrants' as workers lost their jobs for their participation. Yoshi aware of his acquired privilege as a musical scholar in a prestigious school, a long way from the family stress, uncertainty, and hunger he felt throughout middle school and high school, weighed heavily all the positive and negative consequences. He identified his purpose as one of highlighting the positive impact immigrants have played and how quiet our world would be without them.

“I hoped that my protest was for the greater good... It all leads back to trying to make the world as best as I can, as better as I can. Every time I practice it is my intention to serve as a bridge between worlds.” ”

I held my daughter close and opened my eyes once to see Mr. Yoshi with his eyes closed, head bowed, standing firm with his double bass playing the silent song of resistance in solidarity. I closed my eyes and listened to the resounding lull that vibrated through Griswold Hall.

“I didn’t take a poll or a demographic survey but generally with a classical music audience, [whom] never are really have to think about a life without immigrants or the life of immigrants; the full twelve minutes reflection without music takes away the contribution immigrants make.”

A GREATER LESSON

The twelve minutes ended. Mr. Yoshi thanked his audience and they mirrored the sentiment with a deafening applause. He bowed and walked off stage.

The recital was a perfect balance of the intellectual, artistic, and social contributions immigrants make as Ankit Anil on viola and Hsiang Lin on piano followed with a stunning performance. The recital ended with a flawless Minjin Lee on violin. There was no mistake that these students are exceptional. Their brilliance echoed Yoshi’s message as they played beautifully not despite of who they are but because of who they are.

There were probably over a hundred people in the hall. Everyone dispersed afterwards. The couple behind me who were in town from Canada expressed how appropriate the protest was. I agreed. He had modeled for my daughter a greater lesson— we do not create or exist in isolation.

Quickly social media responded as his protest was shared.

Yoshi has received continuous positive response and even thanks for speaking up, with the exception of the two women in the audience and some folks on Facebook who shared their dissent, for reminding us how much global artists enrich the lives of others and how somber our communities would be without their world view.

“My actions reflect what I want to do with my life and my life’s work with music. Ultimately, for me when I’m on my death bed I want to look back, I think I would find happiness if the world was a better place after everything I could do with the help of my friends, family, and community than if I never lived at all.”