Walker State Faith & Character Based Prison

This time I was overwhelmingly awed by the intensity, both physical and emotional, of the performance. The energy of these artists and the range they displayed was amazing from intense depth of passion to the energy of other sections of their performance. The intensity of the responses, esp the standing ovations, said it all. The audience was totally engaged and I have no doubt that some of them were amazed themselves at how deeply they were involved in the recital. After talking to Holly, and listening to her explain how that final piece all came together, I came to realize the magnitude of the degree of artistry in that room that night. It was clear that each, in her own right, was incredibly talented. But to see all that talent come together in that manner under those circumstance was mind=blowing. Words cannot describe how that conversation elevated my appreciation for being allowed to witness something so spectacular. Not only was being invited an honor but realizing the men, themselves, who we had met at our last meeting remembered and engaged with us in a truly personal manner. That was a totally and very welcoming surprise. I, for one, wish I lived closer so that I could join the volunteers to continue some of those conversations. Thank you, Arts Capacity, for allowing us to share this wonderful experience. The residents are not the only ones who experience a change in these moments.

“The whole experience gives myself and others a sense of self-worth.”

“It was a blessing to get my mind out of prison for a few hours. I really enjoyed the music, and the fact that y’all cared enough to come perform is amazing!”

“A chance to experience the outside world in a place where culture lacks. I thank all involved for the opportunity to be a part of this, your dime and time away from your families for us. Thank you.”

“The violin recital gives me peace, it helps me cope with everyday life.”

“I particularly enjoyed hearing from the composers. We rarely get an opportunity to know the music from the composer’s perspective”

“I was nervous and excited about the opportunity to observe the violin and piano recital at Walters State Prison on June 23, 2017. I’ve heard great things about the work Holly and her colleagues are doing in this faith and character based prison, so I was eager to see it for myself. What I saw that day far exceed my expectations. Was I impressed with the work my colleagues and friends were doing at the prison? Yes, more than I can say, but that is not what impacted me the most. The way the inmates and prison staff listened and responded to the music being performed was completely unexpected. I heard an inmate express how the music reminded him of a conversation he recently had with his estranged daughter. He commented, “the silence in the music was just like the silence that took place during a face-to-face conversation with her.” He related the fact that just as the silence in the music had a purpose, so the silence in their conversation had a purpose. Another man reflected on how one piece felt like his personal journey of finding purpose and meaning in life. As I listened to these beautiful reflections, I realized something. I went to be part of a group that brought beautiful music to broken people, but instead, I was the recipient that day. The inmates reminded me that we are all broken people and that music can help heal our fractured spirits if we learn to truly listen.”

“As a classical musician, I tend to listen to music as a synthesis of forms, harmonies, textures, and styles. I frequently find myself focusing on the details in music, rather than stepping back and losing myself in a work. I have long held this to be a strength, a mark of “musical aptitude,” but our visit to Walker State Faith and Character Based Prison made me realize that I have a handicap. The music performed during our visit truly spoke to the men at Walker: when asked about their impressions after each piece, they spoke of complex emotions, of memories, and of vivid imagery evoked by the music. I was dumbfounded hearing the beautiful and articulate responses to works like Wang Jie’s “The Yearning”; I can’t remember the last time that music “spoke” to me. The men at Walker made me re-evaluate my relationship with music. On the ride back from the performance, I searched Mischa Zupko’s “Rising” on Spotify and let it play on repeat. I thought of my first experience with the composition—Holly and Mischa’s performance just a few hours before—and laughed to myself for my initial thoughts of harmony and form. It took the men at Walker to make me hear “someone running through a long hallway of doors, searching for someone they had lost; opening each door and seeing them from a distance, from across a field, each time getting farther and farther.”

“I had learned from the coordinator of this special program, Alan Bonderurd, that these men had gone through a thorough application procedure before being transferred to this particular prison. However, I also knew that this was no country-club, low-security facility. And, this was quickly borne out during the process of entering the prison, past barbed wire fences and through sequentially accessed security chambers. There were men who were convicted for serious, sometimes violent offenses. I had, of course, expected that the prisoners would be respectful and attentive to the performer and the music. But, I was frankly unprepared for the degree of focus, concentration and response – both emotional and intellectual – to these recently composed, truly wonderful, but sometimes challenging musical compositions. Upon entering the large open hall with about 150 folding chairs lined up, Holly asked me if I would be willing to turn pages for composer/pianist Mischa Zupko during two of the pieces they performed on the program, I was happy to assist in any way that may be helpful. But, what I could not know until I was actually on the platform/make-shift stage, was the unique perspective being a page-turner would give me to observe the facial expressions and body language of the seated prisoners as the music was being performed. There was little or no observable body movements from the prisoners while the music was being performed. Were they just behaving as they thought they were expected to, or was it something deeper, much more sincere than that? As the performance progressed, and as the prisoners offered verbal comments about the music following each piece, it became apparent that many of these prisoners were profoundly and genuinely affected by the music and that it was somehow filling a need in their lives. I could only hope that they would take that experience and use it to help them improve their lives in the future.”