Violinist and Social Entrepreneur Aaron Dworkin

 

Music Credit: “NY” composed and performed by Kosta T from the cd Soul Sand, used courtesy of the Free Music Archive.

Aaron Dworkin: When we know, unfortunately still, less than one percent of all of the works performed by all American orchestras are by any composer of color, every single audience member-- white, black, Native American, Asian, whatever it might be-- are done a disservice, because they now are prevented from experiencing the music, the artistic creations, that reflect those cultures, those stories. We are all robbed of the artistry that could otherwise impact our lives.

 

Jo Reed: That is violinist, social entrepreneur, professor, author, MacArthur Fellow and member of the National Council on the Arts, Aaron Dworkin. And this is Art Works, the weekly podcast from the National Endowment for the Arts, I’m Josephine Reed. As you heard, Aaron Dworkin is a man of many talents. He’s also a man with conviction, passion and the ability to turn ideas into reality. A violinist from early childhood, Dworkin realized while an undergraduate he saw very few African-American and Latinx musicians in orchestras and those same orchestra rarely played music by people of color. Most people would have grumbled about this, but Aaron Dworkin got to work. In 1997, he founded the Sphinx Organization whose goal was to address the underrepresentation of people of color in classical music. Beginning as a competition for African-American and Latinx string instrumentalists, Sphinx has grown into a force in classical music. It’s developed four program areas reaching over 100,000 students and musicians annually. Its aim is to develop and support Black and Latinx talent in classical music at every level: from music education, to performing artists to repertoire. From arts leadership to administrators to audiences… It still has the Sphinx competition but the organization also has its orchestra known as the Sphinx Symphony Orchestra, composed of Black and Latinx professionals from around the U.S and supports five other ensembles. It is a powerhouse of inclusion in the classical world. 

 

In 2015, Aaron stepped back from leadership at Sphinx but he keeps on fighting the good fight. He became dean at the School of Music, Theatre & Dance; University of Michigan--where he is now a Professor of Arts Leadership & Entrepreneurship as well as a professor of Entrepreneurial Studies at the Business School. He is also the author of several books, including the recent The Entrepreneurial Artist: Lessons from Highly Successful Creatives and he is the host of the weekly public television show Arts Engines. And believe me, I’m just scratching the surface of his remarkable accomplishments.

While in the past year, many organizations including arts organizations, have been working on coming to terms with racial inequity and a lack of diversity, Aaron has been deeply involved with these issues for decades. And I was lucky enough to speak with him as 2020 was coming to an end….

 

Here’s our conversation

Jo Reed: Aaron-- well, first of all, thank you so much for giving me your time in this week between Christmas and New Year's. But there is a confluence of events that you seem singularly positioned to speak to: the pandemic and its impact on the performing arts happening with the long-overdue racial reckoning that is being felt throughout society, including-- maybe even particularly-- in the arts. So maybe we should begin with the Sphinx Organization, which you founded in 1997, which really speaks to this.

Aaron Dworkin: Absolutely. And first of all, it's just wonderful to be able to be here with you, and to, of course, have such an important conversation at a unique time. And I completely agree. I would say that, in my lifetime, there's never been both a time period of kind of greater strife and division related to racial issues and disparities, but also a time of greater opportunity-- and I really very much believe that-- and of the change that I've been at least seeing in terms of change beginning. Whether there will be follow-through, we'll have to see. So, but yeah, over 20 years ago, I had the opportunity to found the Sphinx Organization, which was really built out of my own experiences as an African-American, biracial violinist, and my experiences in the field of the arts; and looking at the field in its entirety, and seeing, is there something we can do to at least move the needle to make this extraordinary art form more inclusive and representative?

Jo Reed: Well, we all have great ideas, but birthing them in the real world, then, is the big part, too. And I'd just like you to talk a little bit about some of the steps you took that brought the Sphinx Organization into being, and that you see as necessary for any endeavor like this. Because I think this is also a time where we're all thinking, we're all talking, but we also have to start doing.

Aaron Dworkin: Yes, yes. Unfortunately, all too often, I hear a lot of people talk, or especially complain. And then, when I always ask, "Oh, what are you doing about that?", then there's usually a lot more silence, unfortunately. So, yes, a lot more doing, and unfortunately, dreams are not enough. And so when I had this dream that our world in the arts could be more inclusive, and could be diverse and representative of our overall population, that dream is pretty much, other than something to fall asleep to, is pretty useless to the rest of society, and certainly to any of the issues at hand, right? We have to translate that dream into reality. So, several things. One is that I certainly went about building the infrastructure, so that implementing the dream could take place; so, i.e. actually building an organization, and incorporating, and building a board, and understanding who are not only going to be the volunteer board members and people who could help begin to make this a reality, but also people who are either going to volunteer as staff, or initially intern or be paid, to be able to begin to do this work. So all of that, plus, of course, my own work in the issue, and in research, and in understanding what happened, and all of that, and then really laying out a thoughtful plan of how we could begin to make a difference. And so I think those types of steps are just critically important, because without that, you're really not going to be able to bring about substantive, sustainable change, in terms of whatever it is that you're trying to build.

Jo Reed: One of your first contributions, also, came from the head of the World Bank, and I'd like you to talk a little bit about that, because I think it's that mixture of taking every step you can, and just rolling dice. That's also really important when you're trying to build something.

Aaron Dworkin: Absolutely. Absolutely, and that did come out of that, and that was James Wolfensohn, who at the time was President of the World Bank-- and unfortunately, just very recently, passed-- and played an extraordinary role. To this day, I think that, potentially, absent of his commitment, it is substantially less likely that Sphinx would even exist as an organization. And so I didn't know him at the time, and so one of those functional things that I was doing, that you can actually plan for, is talking to whoever you can talk to about these issues, and about who should I be in touch with, and all of those types of things. So in the course of those conversations, someone said to me, "Well, you know, you should really reach out to James Wolfensohn, President of the World Bank." I'm like, "Hmm. Okay." Because he happens to be a cellist. So, yes, he's got all this finance role, but he understands and cares about music, and social issues, and equity, and all of these types of things. And so I did. So even though, as a student, I was able to engage, and he ended up responding, saying, "You know what? Here's a one-time $10,000 contribution. This seems like a good project. Go to it." And, of course, that set the stage for a year later, me having to go back and say, "Ah, I know you said one time, but because persistence is absolutely key for any good social entrepreneur." But his belief in a yet-unproven project was truly extraordinary. And so I think it's both the methodical approach of, "Okay, who's funding these other organizations in the arts? Who's funding diversity initiatives? Let's reach out to them with very targeted outreach, et cetera. But also, let's have these conversations, and let's just throw the dice with some very potentially unlikely sources, because you never know when you might be able to make that connection."

Jo Reed: Now, as you said, you came to this as a musician, initially, and you were a violinist; are a violinist. You still play the violin. How did you come to the violin?

Aaron Dworkin: So, I actually began when I was five. My mother, my adoptive mother, was an amateur violinist, and she had been listening to this recording of Nathan Milstein playing the unaccompanied Bach, which are amazing to this day. But there was a connection that she really had, and it kind of reinvigorated her own playing, and I loved it and picked it up. And I had an extraordinary opportunity very early on to have a great teacher, Vladimir Graffman, who really helped plant those initial seeds for me on the violin.

Jo Reed: And that's when you were living in New York City. And then your parents moved to Hershey, Pennsylvania, which was difficult, because race really became front and center for you, for the first time.

Aaron Dworkin: Oh, yeah. So, 10 years old, literally moved from midtown Manhattan, where you see everyone, right, and all kinds of people, and all kinds of colors and shapes and sizes and all that, to Hershey, Pennsylvania, which, at the time, one black family in my school. And me, big afro, last name Dworkin, played the violin, definitely didn't appear to others to be black-- actually biracial. And so, yeah, it led to wonderful learning experiences and character-building. <laughs> I like to reflect back on it, but at the time, certainly very tough, very ostracizing, and my music, my instrument, was a key solace for me.

Jo Reed: And you spent two very formative years at Interlochen, a school for young artists in Michigan, the beginning of your love affair with Michigan. Tell me why those couple of years were so important to you.

Aaron Dworkin: Well, to this day, I still credit the Interlochen Arts Academy with saving my life. In Hershey at the time, I was really-- I was beginning to get into some trouble, becoming very rebellious, all of those types of things, and in large part because I felt so isolated and disconnected. There were the various cliques in school, and all of that, and I was just kind of outcast. And even in my violin, I felt outcast with other musicians, because I was the only black person in the orchestra, even though I was concertmaster of the Harrisburg Youth Symphony. And the musicians wouldn't-- other kids in the orchestra, for example, wouldn't be quiet when I got up to tune the orchestra, and things like that. And so I just was really, really having a tough time, and I think, if not for Interlochen, could've absolutely-- not only could've, but most likely would have-- gone down a much darker road and darker path, I think. Because there wouldn't have been a solace, or a point of comfort and empathy, for what I was experiencing. I certainly wasn't finding that anywhere. And at Interlochen, not only did I develop friendships that continue to this day, in terms of my closest friends are friends from Interlochen, but it was the first time I was surrounded by everyone who was in the arts. And so it was no longer, "Are you part of this clique or that clique?", but, "Are you a creative writer?" Right? "Are you a dancer? Are you an actor? Are you a musician?" Right? And so it was more about your art form and your artmaking that was kind of defining you, and I guess it gave me an opportunity to redefine myself. Whereas in Hershey, I really couldn't help but have others define me, at Interlochen, it was kind of the first opportunity in my life where I could define myself, and met extraordinary people with whom I've been able to kind of be on this wild adventure and journey of life together.

Jo Reed: You had seen yourself as having a solo career as a violinist-- when you were younger, when you were a teenager, high school. According to your memoir, you even had dreams of bringing the Cold War to an end, through the force of your music. But then you moved from the stage to being the founder and director of Sphinx. Was that a difficult transition for you?

Aaron Dworkin: <chuckles> So, yeah, and probably, I am sure that some could-- you know, in therapy, would probably say, at the very least, delusions of grandeur, if not worse, growing up, in terms of... you know, I really-- I was like, "I'm going to be the world's greatest soloist, and yes, not only bring together" -- because, as the first great black violin soloist, not only would I bring together people of all races in America, but I'd be the first to win the Tchaikovsky Competition, and bring Russia and America together with my music. So, yeah, just slight ambitions relating to my violin playing.

Jo Reed: Yeah, but I loved it.

Aaron Dworkin: And so, needless to say, they didn't bear out. And what actually occurred was that I started out at Penn State, and then actually ended up needing to drop out, which is a whole long story, but dropped out for four years and got a lot of real-world experience. But during that time, I also was not practicing very much. And so then, when I had the opportunity to go back to school at Michigan, I was now four years older than my peers. And basically, I came back as a transfer student, so, for my junior year, undergraduate, at Michigan. And at that time, all those things that used to be so easy for me to do on the violin-- and it was really just a matter of, was I practicing enough? But I could do anything I wanted, I felt like, and in almost all of the musical environments I was in, I felt like I could be first chair or whatever, as long as I put the work in. But now I was putting the work in, and the results were not coming, certainly, nearly as fast. And so that was very humbling, and it really kind of got me thinking about, what was I going to do? And I realized that if I really was going to either be a soloist-- and by that time, those dreams had kind of dialed back to, you know, get into a major orchestra, <laughs> which is, of course, extraordinarily competitive-- 10 times more competitive than getting into an Ivy League school. And so, I thought, reasonably so—I could get into a major orchestra. But the work that it would take, at that point-- certainly, at least six to seven hours a day in the practice room-- I realized that I did not love-- I had actually never loved practicing. It was always one of my big issues. I loved playing the violin, but not practicing. I did it, but grudgingly and minimally, so that I could play the violin well in public. And so I looked, and I said, "You know, I don't want to sit in a practice room and do that work. And around that time, I began thinking about my race and my violin, and the cultural experiences I was having, and the fact that there were almost no musicians of color in any of these circumstances, or that I didn't know there were any black composers, or go to any major orchestra concerts and not see anyone on stage or in the audience who looked like me. And so all of those thoughts started coalescing. And then that, of course, led to this idea of, "Well, what if I could do something about it? What if there was a competition for young black and Latinx string players, and we could come together, play music by composers of color? And if we do that, the whole world of classical music will become diverse." Again, I still had the delusions of grandeur. This time it wasn't about my own personal ability as a violinist, but now it was the impact that this idea could have. And so, as that was beginning to build, that question that you raised of, "Well, what about the volatility, the competition between my own playing and building this organization?" began to come about. And what I found was that I was spending more than six to seven hours a day on the organization, and loving it. Even though it was very, very hard, I loved it, and I felt driven to do it. And so I'd be up, two or three o'clock in the morning or later, very, very often, most days of the week, working on building Sphinx-- something I never would have done on the violin. I just never would've been in the practice room, two to three o'clock in the morning. And so I started thinking about that, and then one day, it completely dawned on me that Sphinx had become my primary instrument. And then I began looking at it as an actual, functional instrument that I needed to dedicate myself to. And when I made that switch, it became very clear, and I really did not regret, then, really backing away from a lot of my violin work.

Jo Reed: Of course, the Sphinx Organization went far beyond a competition. It’s a major player in classical music. Sphinx has vast programing in education, artistic development, entrepreneurial skills, arts leadership among other programs…Sphinx hosts major convenings. So, you have thought long and hard about inclusion and diversity. I’d like you to tell us why, "A," it's important to see someone who looks like you on a stage, in an orchestra, and why it's important for all of us to see the great diversity that is America on a stage.

Aaron Dworkin: Absolutely.Yes. So, I love Chimamanda Adichie, and she has this wonderful quote about the danger of a single story. And she says that the danger of a single story is not that it is untrue, but that it is incomplete. And the stories that we weave in the arts, in our nation, are incomplete. They are not sharing the breadth of the diverse mosaic that comprises the tapestry that is the American experience and the American culture. And... so, for example, when we know, unfortunately still, less than one percent of all of the works performed by all American orchestras are by any composer of color, every single audience member-- white, black, Native American, Asian, whatever it might be-- are done a disservice, because they now are prevented from experiencing the music, the artistic creations, that reflect those cultures, those stories. We are all robbed of the artistry that could otherwise impact our lives. And so one of the things that I would always share with orchestras, I say, "If your goal as an orchestra"-- because there is always this thing, people say, "Well, we have artistic excellence. If we get more diverse, we won't have as much artistic excellence." And I always shared, I said, "Well, if your definition of being an excellent orchestra is by playing the music from Western Europe very excellently well to a subset of your community that represents less than three percent of your community, and you do that very well, and that that is how you define excellence-- playing a sliver of music to a sliver of people-- then yes, great. You're doing great at that. But if your goal of excellence is to perform the breadth of great orchestral classical music at the highest artistic level, you are failing significantly at that. Because there is this breadth of music that, "A," exists; and/or that, "B," you could be participating in the creation of, through commissioning that you are not engaged in. And is that work not part of what is the artistic excellence of what it means to be an American orchestra?" And so that's just kind of, say, on the creation part. But then, also, absolutely, of course, if you take a young person of color, and you bring them into an amazing orchestra hall, and they sit there, and they listen to this extraordinary music and symphony, and they look, and they don't see themselves, while they will be moved by the music-- I certainly was the first time, when I was eight years old, and we went to Carnegie Hall-- but then you look on stage, and you go, "Do I belong? No one there looks like me, so clearly I'm not welcome." And it brings in all of those. So, there is both, if you will, the impact relating to specific communities of color, but then there is something that is robbed of all of us, as a society, when we don't hear the breadth of all of the stories that are able to be told by Americans and others around the world.

Jo Reed: You have long made clear that you think a big factor why African Americans and Latinx musicians have not been accepted into the top ranks of orchestras is that orchestras have not made inclusion a priority—either on stage or in the repertoire.

Aaron Dworkin: So, there is a complexity to that. So, there are parts where I would say it is very clear. For example, composition, the repertoire. The fact that less than one percent of all the repertoire performed by all American orchestras is any composer of color, absolutely, the music director and president of any orchestra could change that next week. I absolutely hold them 100-percent accountable. The music exists. Great music exists. Of course, a whole bunch of amazing new music could be commissioned by all of the extraordinary composers of color that are working today, or hoping and wishing they could work today, if they were receiving those commissions. And that decision could absolutely be made by orchestras, immediately. They could absolutely change their repertoire. I do hold them 100-percent accountable. Now, when it comes to the representation, say, of, let's just say, black musicians on stage as full-time members of the orchestra, there are additional complexities there, related to, of course, tenure; related to screened audition process; related to how we determine musicians. But also-- so those are things that could be affected by orchestral administrations, players' committees, audition committees, et cetera. But, absolutely, there is a smaller pool of musicians, because when we look at young people and their ability and access to high-quality instructions, to high-quality instruments at an early age, we see those disparities. So there it brings in a lot of other factors that we have to look at, and that is part of, of course, what drove the breadth of Sphinx's programs; that we can't just come together with orchestras and say, "Let's partner and really begin to rethink and to evolve our field," but we have to look at elementary schools and say, "As we look at young kids who are having the opportunity to be able to pick up a violin, what percentage are black and Latinx, and why is that, and what can we do about that?" Because, of course, if you don't start at an early age, your ability to advance to a high level by graduation, and get into a major music school, will be less. So, then, summer programs. What are summer programs doing, right? So we have all of these levels, and this is why Sphinx now has programming at the elementary-school level in cities like Detroit and Flint. It has summer programs addressing middle-school and high-school students, and helping to prepare them and develop them so they can be competitive for the top music schools in the country; and then, of course, scholarship programs and other support programs, like the competition, for those who are in college; and then programs to help from the transition from college into the professional world. So the reality is, is that there is complexity to systemic change, and what I would posit to orchestras is there are certain components they could absolutely do, and it's simply they are not either willing, able, or courageous enough to make those changes, like repertoire, that are relatively easy; but then, as it relates to the membership of orchestras and/or their staffing, which is a little bit easier, that, I would say, that certainly, obviously, from my perspective, most orchestras could do more. And that's my role, as a catalyst, to say that. And I would say it would be pretty impossible for them to ever be doing as much as I think they should be doing. So my role is to encourage, cajole, pressure, and to make the case so that they can understand why, financially, ethically, morally, these types of commitments of resources and of initiatives are imperative.

Jo Reed: Adding to this complexity is the fact for the past few decades arts education in public schools has been gutted, is just being gutted, and because often there's an economic disparity that is aligned with race, the impact on students of color is profound.

Aaron Dworkin: Completely. <laughs> And so it's a huge issue, and why not only should, of course, Sphinx and other similar organizations be doing this work that is, let's face it, supplemental in our public schools-- and then there's some work that's being done in private schools-- but we have to do what we can to encourage and to make the case to those who are determining public policy, and especially education policy, the importance of the arts, and that the arts are integral; that we should be moving from STEM to STEAM, and what are the arts requirements in our schools? And, obviously, the National Endowment for the Arts and other agencies are working on this. There is a STEM to STEAM Caucus in Congress. There is additional work that needs to be done, but we do need to look at public policy, because that is also, of course, as it relates to education, the only real way we're going to bring about the type of systemic change that is necessary. One of the things I mention a lot is I talk about Motown, right? Because we've got Detroit here, and such an extraordinary musical history. I often make the case that I think that the equivalent of Motown would be very, very difficult to replicate today. Because Motown was able to from the extraordinary music education that was taking place in schools, and the swath of young musicians and those who had extraordinary artistic talents that were able to be furthered and developed in school, and be able to build upon that with Motown.

Jo Reed: You call yourself a social entrepreneur. And in fact, you're a professor of arts leadership and entrepreneurship at the University of Michigan. And you recently wrote a book called The Entrepreneurial Artist: Lessons from Highly Successful Creatives. Tell me about the book, and who you spoke to, and why.

Aaron Dworkin: Yeah. So, one of the things that it wanted to do was to really be able to, again, capture the real world, right? When we're in a classroom, it would be very easy for me to kind of just delve into the techniques of entrepreneurship for my students. But what I wanted to do is connect them as best as possible, through case studies, but of real-world entrepreneurs; mostly current, active, but then also historically. So, what I wanted to do was to go and interview these entrepreneurial artists, engage with them, really reflect their stories, some of their adventures, in a narrative in the book, but through that really pull, what were the best practices that they brought to bear? What did they do that either enabled them to be successful, and/or how did they overcome some of the challenges or failures that existed in their lives? And so each chapter is built around a specific entrepreneurial artist and their experiences, as well as the best practices that are then laid out at the end of that chapter. So I took two historical, in that I wanted to take Mozart and Shakespeare, and so for them I interviewed kind of leading scholars on them, to capture those experiences; but then, also, wanted a breadth of disciplines. So, for example, Bill T. Jones for dance, Lin-Manuel Miranda for musical theater, Jeff Daniels for theater, Marin Alsop for conducting, right? So, really, a nice breadth across disciplines, so that a reader could really delve into these experiences, both for their own specific artistic discipline or interest, but also in a broader sense, too, because I think a violinist could absolutely learn from Bill T. Jones's experiences in dance.

Jo Reed: And you have a weekly public television show, Arts Engines, which, in a way, is an extension of the book. It's conversations with arts administrators. How does that show speak to this moment?

Aaron Dworkin: Yeah. So, there we wanted to take a little bit of a different approach. So, whereas my book is really capturing the entrepreneurialism-- those who are building sustainable enterprises around their artmaking, but, you know, our field is sustained by the engines, right? The administrators who keep all of these organizations going, and hopefully consistently evolving. And they're doing extraordinary work, day in and day out. But oftentimes that work is either lost, in that others aren't aware of it unless, once a year, we come together for a particular conference, and you learn about what a few colleagues are doing. But we were like, "What if we could help develop a platform where we could all be learning from each other, these arts administrators, on a consistent basis throughout the year?" And so that's what that focus is. So I interview a leading arts administrator, and not just on who they are, and why they do what they do, but also, are there any particular initiatives they're currently working on, so that our audience can look and see and learn, and maybe want to replicate or emulate, learn from, what some of the work of their peers are doing around the country.

Jo Reed: And I'm curious. Since you've spoken to so many arts administrators, you really must have a sense about the impact of the pandemic on the performing arts-- on orchestras, for example. What are you hearing?

Aaron Dworkin: Oh, well, it's, of course, just been devastating, and obviously the recent support in the stimulus package includes the Save Our Stages, which will help, to some extent. But, it's been the most devastating thing, I think, to happen, obviously, across our whole nation, but especially, certainly, in the arts field. And artists have been affected to a greater extent. A lot of times, we look and we think of the frontline workers. We think of service workers. We're thinking of restaurants, and so on and so forth, so many of which have had to close and face all of these issues. But musicians and the arts have been affected, statistically, to a greater extent even than the restaurant industry. And so that's why it's so important, and why it's so great, that relief for our field is part of this relief package and stimulus package. So, definitely been devastated, but I think in any of these times, right, it is there are huge areas of opportunity. And so I think that those orchestras, those arts institutions, that just look to say, "Let's just get back. Let's get back to normal." Right? And a lot of people talk about the "new normal," but it is the orchestras, it is the arts organizations, who are now thinking about how they're going to redefine what they do; how they're going to take these experiences and changed behavior, some of which will not completely revert, of what we do as society, and build upon it so that when they come back, they will be better institutions than they were before the pandemic. Because it's those institutions that are going to define the new normal, and are most likely going to be the most successful in the new normal.

Jo Reed: And, Aaron, you're a member of the National Council on the Arts, which I think of as the Arts Endowment's Board of Directors. <laughs> And I wonder how you see the Arts Endowment and the part it plays to both increase diversity in, and accessibility to, the arts, and what else you would like to see the Arts Endowment do.

Aaron Dworkin: I've been deeply honored to be able to serve with some extraordinary colleagues on the council. And obviously, I think, first and foremost, we're the nation's largest arts funder. So I think, first and foremost, and if you ask, I think, any arts organizations, they're going to say, "Honey, the NEA. We want grants, so that we can do the work that we do. We need this help, and we need the support." And so, as an individual, I am a huge advocate and proponent of a significant-- I wouldn't say "increase," I would say "transformation," in the appropriations and funding for our government's, our nation's, support of the arts. And, obviously, in this shape and form, that is the NEA, and I think that that should be transformative. So the resources that we would be able to have at our disposal, I think, really do need to be increased. When we look at them percentage-wise, obviously, they're extraordinarily tiny. So I think the funding role is critically important. Like many government agencies, the agency is built on various disciplines in the arts field, but one of our main focus areas is accessibility. And so looking at that and making sure that the arts are accessible is also critically important, and D&I (diversity and inclusion) is very, very, very important to the agency, to all of the grantmaking that's done. And I think that should not only continue, but continue to be redefined and evolve, especially given a lot of the things that have been learned over the past year. And I think momentum in our field, in the arts, I've been seeing things and organizations and leaders talking and acting in ways that I have not seen in the entire history preexisting that. And so I think we need to build on that momentum and support those who are really looking to evolve their organizations.

Jo Reed: Well, Aaron, I think that is a great place to leave it. Thank you so much.

Aaron Dworkin: Oh, well, thank you. It's been wonderful to be able to be here with you.

Jo Reed: Thank you. That was violinist, social entrepreneur, professor, author, founder of The Sphinx Organization, MacArthur fellow and member of the National Council on the Arts, Aaron Dworkin—You can find his public television show at dptv.org. For more information about The Sphinx Organization, go to Sphinxmusic.org.

 

You’ve been listening to Art Works, produced at the National Endowment for the Arts. Subscribe to Art Works and then please leave us a rating on Apple because it will make us happy because it helps people to find us. Kept up the arts endowment by following us on twitter @neaarts or by checking out our website at arts.gov. For the National Endowment for the Arts, I’m Josephine Reed. Stay safe, and thanks for listening.

 

Chairman's Corner: January 14, 2021

Jo Reed:  I'm Josephine Reed from the National Endowment for the Arts with The Chairman's Corner, a weekly podcast with Mary Anne Carter, Chairman of the Arts Endowment. This is where we'll discuss issues of importance to the arts community and a whole lot more. 

Mary Anne, I know today, you wanted to talk about the intersection of history and art—particularly the art of public monuments….

Mary Anne: Yes, Jo I do…and I want to begin with the beautiful memorial dedicated to Martin Luther King Jr. located in Washington, DC which is the first to honor an African American individual on the National Mall.  Monday, the 18th of course, is the national observance of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday, a chance to reflect on the legacy of Dr. King and his message.  That message, as stated in the vision statement for his memorial, “eloquently affirms the commanding tenants of the American Dream – Freedom, Democracy and Opportunity for All.”

Cool fact. The official address of the memorial is 1964 Independence Ave. SW, in recognition of Dr. King’s pivotal role in the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

Jo: Mary Anne—Not everyone has had the opportunity to visit the memorial, why don’t you describe it?

Mary Anne: It’s stunning. The main entrance of the memorial from Independence Ave. takes visitors through two large slabs of rock called the Mountain of Despair. From there you walk to the 30-foot tall Stone of Hope with its imposing sculpture of Dr. King seeming to emerge from the rock. His arms are crossed, one hand grasps a rolled document, and with furrowed brow, and penetrating vision, he looks steadily to the horizon.

The two sets of rock represent a line from Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech when he says, “Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope.”

Surrounding the statue of Dr. King is a 450-foot long Inscription Wall, with 14 quotes taken from his speeches, sermons and other writings, adding an important literary component to the sculptural and architectural elements. Once past the Stone of Hope, visitors come to a beautiful plaza, wide open to the sky and the surrounding vista.
 Harry E. Johnson, the president and CEO of the memorial foundation said, “The King Memorial is envisioned as a quiet and peaceful space. Yet drawing from Dr. King's speeches and using his own rich language, the King Memorial will almost certainly change the heart of every person who visits.” 

And that’s the incredible thing about the arts, they can pull us out of ourselves and provide a place of beauty, nobility, and healing to reflect on our thoughts and emotions.

Jo Reed:  Mary Anne, Thank you….

Mary Anne Carter: Thank you, Jo.

Jo Reed:  That was Mary Anne Carter Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts.  Keep up with the arts endowment by going to arts.gov or by following us on twitter @neaarts.

For the National Endowment for the Arts, I’m Josephine Reed. Stay safe and thanks for listening.

Music Credit: “Renewal” composed and performed by Doug Smith from the cd The Collection.

Six Documentaries Supported by the National Endowment for the Arts to Stream Now

Film projector

Photo by Noom Peerapong on Unsplash

Explore amazing documentaries that have received Arts Endowment grants throughout the years.

Sound Health Network Launches with Virtual Event on January 26, 2021

To promote research and public awareness in the area of music and health, the National Endowment for the Arts is partnering with the University of California, San Francisco (UCSF) on the Sound Health Network, a collaboration with the National Institutes of Health (NIH), the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, and Renée Fleming, the center’s artistic advisor. To launch this new network, the Arts Endowment and UCSF will hold a free, virtual presentation on Tuesday, January 26, 2021 at 5 p.m. ET/2 p.m. PT.

Dance Guidelines Webinar

02:00 pm ~ 03:00 pm

FY22 Visual Arts Guidelines Webinar

03:00 pm ~ 04:00 pm

FY22 Museums Guidelines Webinar

01:00 pm ~ 02:00 pm

FY22 Media Arts Guidelines Webinar

03:00 pm ~ 04:00 pm

Suni Paz

Music Credits:

"San Sereni” from the album Alerta Sings & Songs for the Playground, written and performed by Suni Paz.

"Prisioneros Somos” (We Are All Prisoners) from the album Brotando del Silencio: Breaking Out of the Silence, written and performed by Suni Paz.

"Mujer” (Woman) from the album Entre Hermanas: Between Sisters, written and performed by Suni Paz.

"Al Ajo” (To Garlic) from the album From the Sky of my Childhood, written and performed by Suni Paz.

"NY” from the album Soul Sand, written and performed by Kosta T

(music up)

Jo Reed: You’re listening to the music of nueva canción Singer and Songwriter and 2020 National Heritage Fellow Suni Paz.

For half a century, Suni Paz has written and performed performed socially conscious music, Latin-American folk music, and traditional children's songs…She’s a cultural force, who engages people of all backgrounds and ages.

Born Elsa Calandrelli Solá, she was raised in Buenos Aires, Argentina, in a large extended family of musicians, writers and artists. By her teens, she was already dancing, singing, writing, and playing guitar.

Her life changed when she heard the music of Atahualpa Yupanqui, an Argentinian legend, who championed the music of indigenous people and awoke in Suni her passion for “music with a conscience.”

She moved to Chile with her husband and they began performing publicly. It was in Chile that Suni learned more about the struggle of workers and they became the subjects of her songs. After her husband passed away and the political situation in Chile grew treacherous, Suni moved to the United States with her two sons and began working at the Latin American Studies program at the University of California, Riverside. She also began performing in folk festivals, singing about farm workers, political prisoners, the salt of the earth.

She chose the stage name “Suni Paz,” which means “everlasting peace. After earning her master's degree, she wrote a curriculum for teaching Latin American culture through songs, stories, and dances, and began performing in schools.

In 1973, she recorded her first album, Brotando Del Silencio/Breaking Out of the Silence, on Paredón Records, accompanied by her son, Ramiro Fauve. Twenty-two albums followed, including 11 on Smithsonian Folkways. She has performed alongside singers like Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, Don McClean, and Phil Ochs. And for decades Suni has collaborated with celebrated children’s authors Alma Flor Ada and Francisca Isabel Campoy—in fact, Suni has composed over 500 songs for children.

Suni Paz has received many awards and now she is a National Heritage fellow—I spoke with her late last year and—fair warning—our phone line gets a bit spotty, but she’s a vibrant storyteller which comes through clearly….so, here’s our conversation.

Well, Suni, I want to begin by saying congratulations at being named a National Heritage Fellow.

Suni Paz: Yes. That was quite a surprise to me. Music Credits:

Jo Reed: I read your wonderful memoir, “Sparkles and Shadows.” What’s really clear, at least to me, from reading that memoir is you say music has been a central part of your self-expression and it really just seems so tied to your upbringing. Tell us about your upbringing and where you were brought up and that vast, talented clan that’s your family. And please begin with your aunt.

Suni Paz: My aunt was a writer. She was a superb writer, poet. She had awards in Europe, in France. She got two awards from her poetry written in French-- imagine. She was so incredibly talented and I sort of grew up in the same house. We were all living in the same house. We were like 14 people living in the same house. My grandparents were there, my aunts. And my grandma was there who was an artist and she painted incredible miniatures and every kind of painting. I mean, she was extraordinary, and then my grandfather-- my grandfather was a poet, a writer, and a musician. He played violin. He played piano and viola and he was a doctor, but before he took care of his patients, he would play the violin for half an hour before every patient, and the patients would come early to listen to the doctor play the violin and I would sit with the patients and sometimes fall asleep in their laps listening to my grandfather play the violin. I love it so much. I wouldn’t miss that for anything. We always went in the evenings to his room and we said “Tata...” We called him Tata. “Tata, can we draw?” “Yes, of course,” and he would sit at all the tables he had there for us to draw and when he died, they discovered in his room a folder with all the paintings that we did when we were little and he always told us “Put your name and put this date,” and he would give us the date. So, he had all the paintings with our names and with the dates and we would not have recognized the paintings were not for his taking the trouble to write-- to make sure that we had signed and put the date. I mean, he was incredible. ... He was an original.

Jo Reed: And your father insisted that you all listen to an opera before you went out on the weekend.

Suni Paz: Oh, yeah. We couldn’t go out at all unless we sat with my father and my mother, both of us, listening to a complete opera and sometimes, he gave us the-- what do you call it? I don't know what you call it...

Jo Reed: Libretto?

Suni Paz: Thank you, the libretto. So, we would be following the libretto, my father with his finger will guide where we were going and we heard from Wagner to every conceivable French opera because my mother spoke perfect French. So, that’s why French became very familiar to my ear, because we were listening to every conceivable French opera that was there and then sometimes if we didn’t listen to the opera, he would put the recordings and he would put recordings of Marian Anderson. That was our superhero. We adored Marian Anderson. So, we were listening to her for hours on end because we thought that there was not another voice as beautiful as hers. So, it was a real musical education. I mean, very complete, very complete.

Jo Reed: And when did you begin singing, Suni?

Suni Paz: Well, I sang for myself only when I was 13 years old that I wrote my first bolero, a loving song. I wrote two boleros, two loving songs and I sang it only for myself and to my sister, Ana Maria, who was my pal, and I will share with her whatever. And the only one that remembered the bolero was Ana Maria. I wrote it. I sang it two or three times and then I forgot about it, never remember it. One day I hear Ana Maria singing and I say “Ana, that is a very familiar song. Where did you get it?” and she said “You dummy, you did it. It’s your song. That was your love song. Remember?” No, I didn’t remember. She remembered my songs. I didn’t remember at all. I had forgotten my only songs.

Jo Reed: When did you start playing instruments?

Suni Paz: I was probably 16, I start to play the guitar. My father, who doesn’t play the guitar, taught me-- he felt sorry for me because I had the guitar in my hands and I couldn’t do anything and I was just struggling and struggling and he said “Look, I don't know how to play guitar, but I’m going to teach you three chords that I know. Do you want to learn them?” I said “Yeah.” So, he taught me three chords and with those three chords, I start playing everything in the world, every bolero that I knew at that time-- it was my time of boleros, I play every bolero I could with three chords and then I began going to the peñas folklóricas, folk gatherings, with my mom and the musicians were there on the stage playing folk music all the time and we were dancing.

Jo Reed: Excuse me, just one second. So, you and your mom used to go out to gatherings where there were folk singers.

Suni Paz: Yes. It’s called in Buenos Aires, it’s called peñas, and they were folk gatherings and we were going there to dance folk music and also sometimes we sang with the singers that were there on the stage, but the singing and the playing was in the hands of the folklóricas that would come to the peñas, get on to the stage and start playing and then we start dancing. It was a lot of fun and was a familiar place for the kids to go with the parents. It was a very family place and I learned-- I was looking, sometimes getting to the top of the stage on the back, where I couldn’t be seen, but I was seeing very closely the way the musicians were playing because there were songs that I wanted to learn how to play and I couldn’t do it because I didn’t know the chords and I would struggle imitating them. So, one of the musicians saw me and when they have the break, he came and he said “You want to know this chord? Okay. Here they are. This is what you have to do,” and he showed me and he taught me and that way, I was improving every time I went to the peñas, I came home with a new song with new chords. So, that improved my playing the guitar enormously. Now, I can play and sing.

Jo Reed: When did you first play publicly?

Suni Paz: Well, the funny thing is I was on a stage but not for singing. That didn’t happen until I came really almost to the United States because in Argentina, I was in the stage, yes, but I was dancing Spanish dances. I learned how to dance. I play the castanets. I was a very good dancer and I was a very good player of castanets. I play castanets still today. I play for the children when I go to the school. So, my first stage performances were with dancing, not with singing. In Chile, I performed a lot in parties with my husband, who was a great singer, great guitarist. He played wonderfully and we started a tour with him. So, in Chile with my husband, we went to every party they invite us. Every time there was a party, we were invited because they wanted us to sing at the end of the party. So, we were singing. That was my performance and then I did a program for the University of Chile for the TV after my husband passed away. They offer me if I wanted to do a program a week for the University of Chile on TV and I said “I’m going to do it only if I can sing and talk only about Atahualpa Yupanqui. They were so surprised and they said “Okay, fine.” So, I did this program, Atahualpa Yupanqui and all I was singing were the songs of Atahualpa Yupanqui.

Jo Reed: For those of us who might not know-- tell us who is Atahualpa Yupanqui? Describe his influence on your work.

Suni Paz: He was my idol. Atahualpa Yupanqui was of Indian descent, indigenous descent. He lived in Northwestern Argentina, where that’s the cradle of folklore. He was a collector of folk songs, but also, he wrote his own songs and his own songs paint a portrait of the countryside of the Andes, of the struggles of people there, I loved those songs that he created and his poetry is extraordinary. It’s beautiful and many of those were songs, became songs. He put the music to it and he sang. He became very political and eventually, he had to leave Argentina and went to live in Paris and he died in Paris. I met him in New York exactly the year before he died. He was 84 years old. So, it was very important to me, very, very important. He opened a world that I didn’t know existed. Imagine, he was opening a world for me that didn’t exist for me. I was just a little girl in the capital sitting in my house going nowhere, just around the block. So, all of a sudden, he came, painting portraits of the real world and he talked about the farm workers and their struggle, the miners and their struggle. It was fantastic. To me, it was opening my eyes to the world. So, I adored his music and I became very political eventually because of him, because I saw the plight of the working man and of the farm worker that was mistreated, looked down, and they were putting the food on our tables. We owe our health and our life to them. They were treated like they were no one and that was very painful to me. So, when I came to the United States, I met Cesar Chavez and the farm workers and I became a singer for their cause because it was very important to me.

Jo Reed: I’m also assuming that you saw was how powerful music was to tell their story.

Suni Paz: Exactly. Exactly. Thank you for saying that because that is exactly what it happened, the way it happened. I said “Oh, look at that. He opened a whole world for me, a world,” and I said “How? Through a song, through music.” So, when I came to the United States, started singing for the children, I said “These children have to see their world open like a map in front of their eyes so they can see themselves who they are, how important they are, how vital their function in this society,” and I began finding songs and when I didn’t have them, I had to write them and I would write the songs for them. So, they would see themselves with strength and power and see how important they were. They were put down all the time. There was an incredible amount of racism. Do you know that when I arrived, I went to the park and I went to the bathroom and I saw outside a sign that said “For blacks only, for whites only,” and I said “What am I going to do? I am not black and I am not white. So, where am I going?” and I had to go back to the people that brought me to the park and said “Can you please tell me where do I go to the bathroom?” I was overwhelmed by racism. I didn’t know anything. So, I began studying about civil rights and everything. I became educated.

Jo Reed: Well, Suni, when and why did you come to the United States?

Suni Paz: Well, I came to the United States. I had to leave Chile. That was no question about that. In ’65, I have to leave because there was Communist Revolution. I could see that very clearly that was going to be bloody and that was going to be horrifying and I was with two little kids, barely two and four-- two and four, what am I going to do with my kids? I had to get out of there. So, my neighbors, who were North American, they say “You have to come to the United States. That’s the place for you. You will be able to study. You will be able to do all the things that you haven’t done that you want to do and you told us about. You can do that in the United States. You have to go to the United States,” and I said “No, I don’t know anybody and without a contract, and she said “No, no, no. We’re going to get you a contract,” and they put themselves together with three other guys that I had helped in Chile, they were North American, and I had helped them with their PhDs. So, between all of them, they convinced the Department of Latin American Studies in Riverside that I was the person they had to hire and a contract came my way. When I received the contract, I said “Okay. I’m going to the United States.” So, I came here.

Jo Reed: You have written so eloquently about the loneliness of leaving one’s country. You talk about immigrants reinventing themselves and I wonder how you reinvented yourself.

Suni Paz: Well, if I didn’t reinvent myself, I would have died. Why? Because I realized that the loneliness of not having people around that speak your language and that you can move around and all the time hearing a language that is not mine, I said “If I don’t sing, I die. It’s that simple. I have to sing.” So, I asked the teacher that I met. They said “Do you have a curriculum in your school?” “Yes, sure.” “Can you lend it to me?” She lent me the curriculum. I wrote all the songs following her curriculum and then I told her “Can I sing in your classroom?” So, she invited me in. The other teachers became crazy. They were all at the door listening “Can you come to my room? My room? My room?” So, I began singing in every room. So, I would go to school and sing for the person that had invited me and then I would go room after room after room singing and doing the program. So, I began getting instruments that came from Africa and other places because I had to relate to these kids. I had ponchos so I could relate to the indigenous people that were in my classroom and drums and beads from Ghana that were just gorgeous and I would bring those oldest instruments and invite them to play with So, thus started my career as a singer first in school for the children.

Jo Reed: And you also renamed yourself.

Suni Paz: Oh, yes, of course. With the last name Calandrelli, an Italian name, very difficult to pronounce, more difficult to write, I couldn’t sing folk songs. It was ridiculous. So, I said “Okay, for my folkloric life, I need a new name.” So, I named myself Suni Paz, means lasting peace, comes from Bolivia. The instrument that I play comes from Bolivia, the charango, and also, it’s in Quechua. In Quechua, it means “lasting peace.” I like that. Also, Paz, I love it because it’s the last name that you find in every conceivable class. So, I said “Okay, that is my name.” I am from the top all the way to the super bottom all the way to the middle, all the way around and so, that was my folk interpretation of the world with the name Suni Paz.

Jo Reed: You taught in my hometown of New York City. Tell me about that experience.

Suni Paz: Well, I lived there for 14 years in New York and I love New York and I sang there. They start inviting me to the coffee houses. I start singing in coffee houses. Then I began singing in all the folk joints that were in the Village. So, I began interacting with very famous people, which was not my interest at all. But I was very happy and was very pleased and I was very proud that I was singing. I was singing with Phil Ochs, who I absolutely went crazy with his music. I was singing with the man from “Bye, Bye My American Pie.” You know who he is?

Jo Reed: Don MacLean?

Suni Paz: Don MacLean, he was in the Village the day-- we sang together in a place in the Village the day that he put out, I think, for the first time “Bye, Bye Miss American Pie.”

Jo Reed: Suni, when did you begin to record?

Suni Paz: I began to record-- let me think. I would say probably ’71.

Jo Reed: Yeah. Do you remember that first experience in the studio?

Suni Paz: Oh, yes, of course. My first recording was for Paredon Records for Barbara Dane. Barbara Dane called me out of the blue and he said “I’ve been listening to your political songs and I want to record you,” and I was so surprised “Okay.” So, Ramiro, my son, who always played with me, always sang with me since he was seven years old, he said “Okay, I’ll accompany you.” So, we recorded on Paredon Records my political songs and it was such an extraordinary experience and then later on-- it’s only a couple of years ago, not very long, they put a book that is called “The Social Power of Music,” and in that “Social Power of Music,” they put a whole page with one of my songs with a translation, with everything and words that I said about my music. I have it right here if you want to hear it. It was very interesting. Those were my own, very own words.

Jo Reed: Sure.

Suni Paz: I said “The work of poets and singers is like the wind. One may choose to blow sun in the eyes of the people, blinding them to reality or one may scatter seeds of consciousness that help to nurture in the people’s heart a passion for justice,” and I think that explains exactly the reasons why I was choosing my songs, the way I was choosing them, and the way I was singing them. And so, that book “The Social Power of Music” blew my mind. It was an enormous book and there is a whole chapter of me there with my thoughts. I thought that was unbelievable. I was very moved by that.

Jo Reed: Yeah. I can see why you would be. Suni, you’re such a prolific songwriter. Is that what fuels your music, that passion for culture and belief in social justice?

Suni Paz: Oh, definitely, of course. Of course. But it’s also the respect that I feel for the children. The children, people don’t sometimes respect them for who they are and they don’t give them the certainty of who they are and very important that they have a culture behind that inspires them to learn about themselves, about where they come from, about their origins, the parents-- what do the parents do? Where do they work? They have to know and be proud. You know what I did? I’m so proud of that-- there was a guy in the corner of my college, my high school, that was selling ice cream. You know those ice cream, little outfits that are in the corner in the summer at the pier?

Jo Reed: You mean an ice cream cart?

Suni Paz: Yes. Okay. So, I thought he was so kind and such a nice-- I see him every day and I bought always an ice cream and so, one day, I began talking to him “Who are you? Where you are from?” and this and that and he told me about him, his children, his life. He had been selling to make a living for his children, but he wanted his children to be someone and to study and he had already one of his sons was going to be a doctor and the other one was going to be like a lawyer or something like that. It was incredible and this guy was-- did all his life, rain or sun, he was in the corners of the school, in the corners of the neighborhood selling little ice cream in a little ice cream thing. So, I said “Would you come to the classroom and talk to my students and tell them about your life?” and so, he said he was surprised. “Well, yes. It’s kind of weird. What am I going to tell them?” “Everything. What you just told me, tell them. Tell who you are, how you struggle, what was your life, what are you doing, what kind of family you have-- everything, so they can open the eyes to reality and to see the value that they have in you standing there. You are a powerful person, an important person,” and so, he came to my class. My children were so moved and I think after that, they didn’t work the same. They made an effort to study. They become new children for me and it was the inspiration that this man brought to the class and we don’t do that. It’s very, very, very important

Jo Reed: Suni also had a long-time collaboration with the children’s author and poet Alma Flor Ada. Alma Flor Ada asked Suni to put her poems to music. Suni was uncertain, but Alma Flor came to her apartment with a book of her poetry…. And the rest is history

Suni Paz: I open the book and I see a poem and I said, “This is a perfect Cuban song,” and I sing the song from beginning to end with a Cuban rhythm. Turn the page and I began like that and I said “And this is a perfect, an absolutely perfect corrido, <musical sounds>,” and I sing it. At this point, when I came to the third song and I say “This is a perfect song from the heights of Bolivia,” she said “Wait a minute, wait a minute, let me take this little cassette.” She took the cassette out and she began recording because I was singing the songs as I was reading. That is the kind of poems she writes. They come with the music. So, I was singing every one of the songs. So, at the end, she said “Tomorrow, I’m picking up the cassette to take it to Addison Wesley that wants to have a contract on my songs,” and I said to her “No, no, no. Leave it here. I’m going to re-record them properly, every one of them with an instrument, not acapella like that.” So, I record them with an instrument. I was amazed at the quality of her poetry and intelligence of her poetry and I did the recording and in the morning, she pick it up and took it to Addison Wesley. One week later, Addison Wesley, the owner calls me and I signed the contract for 84 songs. So, I wrote 84 songs. I sang and recorded 84 songs and that was my biggest contract ever. It was the first time that I was making money in the first place. But I was so happy and then after that, I continued working with her forever until today, until now because last year, we just put together 34 songs of everything that we wrote.

Jo Reed: Let me just ask you this, Suni. When you’re writing music on your own, when it’s your own songs, the lyrics and the music, how do you begin that? Is it with the words? Is it the rhythm? Is it the style? Is it an idea?

Suni Paz: It depends on the message. My best song was about Chile, “Chile, Paloma Herida.” That was my best song and we did a phenomenal recording that Ramiro did with that one to have it forever. How did I write it? I wrote it almost together. The words were coming out like a river and together with the words was the music was coming as well. So, I have all the lyrics very quickly and then I began working more with the music and I finished with the music. So, in this day, it was always the lyrics. I think that that was more like I did it. Sometimes I said “I want this rhythm. That is very important.” You know, my best song was also called “To Garlic,” “Al Ajo.”

Jo Reed: “To Garlic?”

Suni Paz: “To Garlic.” I’ll tell you why it was so fantastic. When I went with Alma Flor, we were teaching in Spain in the summer. Alma Flor said “Hey, I know the head of the Spanish language.” It’s the most important organization of language in the whole of Spain. It’s the top. They make the rules on the Spanish language. She said, “I want to present the Ajo song to him.” “The Real Academia Española, the head is going to hear my song on ajo? Okay.” Well, I went with a guitar and I sang it. He said “This is the most poetic song I ever heard. Can you record it for me and make me a recording for me so I can keep it?” “Yes,” I said, “Of course.” Nobody can imagine that you can write a song that is poetic to garlic, but I love garlic. I adore it. I blame my mom because my mom as a Catalonian, Catalonians use garlic for their cooking always. So, I blame my mom, my love for garlic.

Jo Reed: And Italians do too.

Suni Paz: And Italians also. So, I have a double whammy, the Italians and the Catalonians, both of them. So, I love garlic. So, to me, it was a poetic song.

Jo Reed: So, Suni, tell me what you’re doing now.

Suni Paz: What am I doing now? Now, I’m trying to write the story of Chile and I never talk about Chile. So, it’s about time that I have something on the story of Chile and I have incredible stories about Chile. I’m also writing about my trips. Like, I did a trip throughout Puerto Rico singing with a group of people. It was a group, pretty big. I think we were 14 and we went through town after town after town all around Puerto Rico and the islands. The women there were out of their minds because they never have seen a woman alone singing and playing the guitar with such a flare like it was nothing and playing the guitar like a drum at times because I do that a lot. When I finished singing, they would not let me get out of the place. The women were all talking at the same time and asking questions and questions and questions because they wanted to know how a woman could have done such a feat, such a thing. They couldn’t believe it and I realized at that moment how oppressed women were. We were very oppressed, but I didn’t never notice. I never really realized it and I decided “Okay, I have to do something about this,” and I put out a recording called “Entre Hermanas,” “Between Sisters.” That one, I had all the things to say in that recording, “Between Sisters,” “Entre Hermanas.” It was necessary and important that I would do something for women and so, I did this recording. It was nothing really fabulous, the recording, but it was important.

Jo Reed: But you have been given many awards and now, a National Heritage Fellowship and I’m just so curious about what receiving this award means for you.

Suni Paz: Well, I’m astonished. I have to say I am surprised and overwhelmed. I was not expecting that at all.

Jo Reed: Well, it is so well-deserved and I love your music and your writing is extraordinary. That memoir is wonderful and it’s one that will stay with me for a long time, Suni.

Suni Paz: Oh, thank you so much. Thank you. Nobody told me things like that about my writing. Thank you so much.

Jo Reed: No, you’re welcome. Thank you for writing it and thank you for giving me your time. I really appreciate it.

Suni Paz: Thank you. Thank you for taking the trouble to do this incredible interview. Really, I appreciate it. I appreciate it. I thank you so, so much, Josephine.

Jo Reed: Not at all, Suni. It was my pleasure, truly.

That was nueva canción Singer and Songwriter and 2020 National Heritage Fellow Suni Paz.

On March 4, take a virtual trip across the country to visit the Heritage Fellows in their homes and communities. Celebrate the 2020 National Heritage Fellows in an online broadcast on March 4, 2021 at 8pm ET at arts.gov. That’s 8 pm eastern March 4 at arts.gov…mark those calendars

You've been listening to Art Works produced at the National Endowment for the Arts. And don’t forget to subscribe to Art Works and leave us a rating on Apple it helps people to find us. And follow us on twitter @NEAarts. For the National Endowment for the Arts, I'm Josephine Reed. Stay safe. Stay Kind. And thanks for listening.

Chairman's Corner: January 7, 2021

Jo Reed: I'm Josephine Reed from the National Endowment for the Arts with The Chairman's Corner, a weekly podcast with Mary Anne Carter, Chairman of the Arts Endowment. This is where we'll discuss issues of importance to the arts community and a whole lot more.  Well, mercifully, 2020’s come to an end, and I know you are as relieved as I am, Mary Anne, but I also know you wanted to pause for a moment to think about where we’ve been, and just as importantly, where we’re going.

Mary Anne Carter: Yes, I do, Jo.  I want to take time to reflect on this past year, and then look forward to the new year.  You know, obviously 2020 was a tough and challenging year for everyone, and quite frankly, it was especially tough and challenging for me, as I lost a member of my family at the beginning of the year, and, you know, soon after that we started hearing about this strange sickness.  On March 13th, I sent an email out to staff, Jo, you might remember, letting staff know that they should consider teleworking, and by the 16th we announced the entire office would begin teleworking, and here we are, nine months later, still teleworking, and like so many of our listeners, we were unable to do so many of our normal annual events.  Our Jazz Masters concert was canceled in April, Poetry Out Loud finals canceled in May.  Our Heritage Fellows concert canceled in September.  The National Council meeting, which we were supposed to be in Puerto Rico for was canceled in October, and we missed out on some really special events planned for 2020.  For example, in June, we were planning on hosting a conference for the Ministers of Culture from the Americas, from North, South and Central America, and also, we had paired five American artists with five Japanese artists, who collaborated on projects that were to be presented at venues throughout Tokyo during the Olympics, which, of course, were canceled.  But I want to talk about what we did accomplish, because despite the pandemic, we still had an amazing year.  First-- and some in our audience may not realize this-- our fiscal year 2020 budget for the endowment was the largest budget for the agency in the past 10 years, and the 12th largest budget in the 55-year history of the agency, and if we include the 75 million the agency received in CARES Act funding, it is by far the largest budget in the agency’s history, and we had no loss of productivity.  We had been working on disaster preparedness for the previous 18 months, so we were extremely well prepared to move from the conference room to the living room overnight, and right before the pandemic, with our friends from NEH and IMLS, we hosted the first-ever convening of Native Americans, Alaskan Native and Native Hawaiians on federal cultural resources available to them, and then once we did begin to start teleworking, our work continued steadily.  We still held all three National Council meetings, although virtual.  We produced a virtual Jazz Masters concert that premiered in August.  We produced a book commemorating the 100th anniversary of women’s Suffrage.  We convened the National Service organizations together twice to discuss effects of the pandemic and reopening strategies. We still released so many reports, including an analysis of the folk and traditional arts portfolio at the agency.  We released a report on how the arts can help in opioid recovery.  We also released two surveys on reopening strategies for arts organizations across the nation, among many other reports.

And in addition to all the work we do all year, we also received 75 million through the CARES Act that we distributed to the state and regional arts organizations and including direct grants, which helped provide some financial assistance to more than 5,000 arts organizations throughout the country.

Jo Reed: That was quite a year.  But let’s look forward to 2021.  What can we expect?

Mary Anne Carter: Well, the first big event that we are looking forward to is our Heritage 2020 concert.  That was canceled in September, as I just mentioned, but we are now in production and are putting together a celebratory concert, and that will premiere on March 4th.

Jo Reed: And then of course we have jazz right behind that in April.

Mary Anne Carter: Absolutely, and just as we did for 2020, we will also produce a virtual concert.  We will not wait until August to play that though.  We will premiere it in April on the usual schedule of Jazz Masters.

Jo Reed: And Poetry Out Loud is still going strong even as the students recite virtually.

Mary Anne Carter: That’s right, Jo.  We have encouraged all the states to hold their competitions virtually, and the final competition that usually takes place in person in Washington, D.C., will also be held virtually, and we’ll keep it to the same time period, late April, early May.

Jo Reed: And then there are two events that aren’t ongoing programs, Americas Cultural Summit and the Olympics.

Mary Anne Carter: Absolutely.  Both canceled for 2020, but it does look like both will happen in 2021.  The Americas Cultural Summit will be held virtually in June, and as much as we would like to hold that in person, we just don’t know where all the countries are going to be by June.  We don’t know where visas might be, travel restrictions per country, or even vaccinations.  So that will be held virtually, and Japan has indicated thus far that the Olympics will go on, and they are hoping and anticipating spectators.  So we are hoping that our artists who have been working in collaboration with Japanese artists will be able to present their final products in Tokyo during the Olympics in July.

Jo Reed: Mary Anne, we all anticipate moving forward into the new year.  Thank you. <laughs>

Mary Anne Carter: Thank you, Jo.

Jo Reed:  That was Mary Anne Carter Chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts.  Keep up with the arts endowment by going to arts.gov or by following us on twitter @neaarts.

For the National Endowment for the Arts, I’m Josephine Reed. Stay safe and thanks for listening.

Music Credit: “Renewal” composed and performed by Doug Smith from the cd The Collection.