For the past few years, I have attended at least one performance of the LA Philharmonic, at the Hollywood Bowl, to watch Gustavo Dudamel conduct. This year, I was contacted to see if I had any interest in season tickets; I did.

My first venture to the Hollywood Bowl was a solo trip to see Dudamel conduct Carmen. I had managed to snag a seat in a box that was relatively close to the stage. I fell in love that night…with Dudamel, with the Hollywood Bowl, with Carmen…and with box seats! Watching Dudamel is fascinating; he conducts with his entire body and as the evening wears on his curly locks seem to grow like a Chia Pet. I also admire the work he does with YOLA (Youth Orchestra of LA).

Tonight, a friend and I went to see violinist Ray Chen and the LA Phil being conducted by Ben Gernon. As we settled into our seats, I noticed the U. S. and California flags flying at half-staff (note: half-mast is when it is on a ship). I was overcome by sadness and felt my eyes tearing up, but I blinked them away. The musicians took the stage, Gernon came out, the lights were lowered except for 2 spotlights; one on each flag. We all rose to our feet as we recognized the opening notes of the Star-Spangled Banner. This was the first time I was not able to sing our national anthem; I was holding back sobs as tears ran down my face.

The current political climate coupled with the events of the past few days (weeks, months, years…) have left me feeling sad, hopeless, and helpless. How much more must people endure? Like many of my friends and colleagues I am exhausted; political fatigue.

Then I remembered something I had read….an open letter Dudamel had written about the political climate in Venezuela. The content could easily apply to the current situation in the US.

He wrote:

My entire life has been devoted to music and art as a way of transforming societies. I raise my voice against violence. I raise my voice against any form of repression. Nothing justifies bloodshed. We must stop ignoring the just cry of the people suffocated by an intolerable crisis. Extreme confrontation and polarization cannot seize common conscience and peace, constituting borders and barriers to understanding and peaceful and democratic coexistence. Historically the Venezuelans have been a fighting people but never a violent one.

For democracy to be healthy there must be true respect and understanding. Democracy cannot be built to fit the needs of a particular government or otherwise it would cease to be a democracy. The democratic exercise involves listening to the voice of the majority as the ultimate bulwark of social truth. No ideology can go beyond the common good. Politics must be exercised from conscience and in the utmost respect of the Constitution, adapting itself to a young society that, like the Venezuelan, has the right to reinvent itself through the healthy and unobjectionable democratic checks and balances.

Venezuelans are desperate for their inalienable right to well-being and the satisfaction of their basic needs. The only weapons that can be given to people are the necessary tools to forge their future: books, brushes, musical instruments; in short, those that embody the highest values of the human spirit: good, truth and beauty.

I urgently call on the President of the Republic and the national government to rectify and listen to the voice of the Venezuelan people. Times cannot be defined by the blood of our people. We owe our youth a hopeful world, a country where we can walk freely in dissent, in respect, in tolerance, in dialogue and in which dreams have room to build the Venezuela we all yearn for.

It is time to listen to the people: Enough is enough.

–Gustavo Dudamel

In those moments when I feel sad, hopeless, and helpless about the current state of the world, I follow the classical music tradition of a caesura. A caesura is a break or a silent pause in the music; the conductor determines the length of the pause. Essentially, I put myself in a time-out; no news, no social media, and no political engagement. As the conductor of my personal pause, I turn my attention to music, poetry, reading inspirational works, dancing, and creating (I knit); I seek out that which will nourish my soul.

How do you navigate the moments of overwhelm? How do you orchestrate your life? How do you nourish your soul?

Gustavo Dudamel. (2017, May 4). Levanto mi voz/ I raise my voice. http://www.facebook.com/gustavodudamel [Facebook update] Retrieved from https://www.facebook.com/notes/gustavo-dudamel/levanto-mi-voz-i-raise-my-voice/10155493367329683/