What it means

No doubt that these are rough times for all. Although here in southeast Texas (where I am for a guest conducting week), the economic climate is a bit more upbeat. Still, it's hard not to get swept up in the sense of gritted uncertainty.

But sitting on yet another flight (my sixth in 12 days!) today I have a small moment of clarity and conviction. I'm reminded that whenever I need comfort, I turn to music. Whenever I need a brief escape from the pressures of life, I turn to music. Whenever I need a reminder of my essential humanity, I turn to music.

And I think of the audience in Orchestra Hall last week, at the end of a dreadful tumble of days, some faces preoccupied, of course, but some faces transported. It reminds me that what we as musicians do is vital, now perhaps even more. And that all art provides an imperative reminder of what it means to be a thinking and feeling being. And that no number of bank closures can change that fact.

And that the world is always better with a bit of such idealism.