Effort Undefined

"The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without the work".

French writer Emile Zola is credited with these words . Coming off of the 25th anniversary concert of the Indianapolis Children's Choir last night, these words ring true. The sheer number of hours worked by hundreds of people - before the concert even began - is staggering.

ICC founder and artistic director Henry Leck had the vision - and those around him believed in it enough to help supply the effort. Effort is somewhat a mystery. We all know it is needed to do a job well; but how much more to really be outstanding?

Art in particular is somewhat difficult to gauge the success of. A business owner can check her bank account. A student has their GPA. A runner can clock his time. Art is a bit more intangible. The same lack of boundaries that draw some people to arts various forms - that fills their creative soul just by taking part in it - is also what makes it hard to measure. When does art go from merely good to touching the heart of an audience?

Should the conductor run the rehearsal just 5 more minutes? Should the violinist challenge herself with a more difficult piece? Should the dancer prepare a little longer? Should the film maker revise the script just one more time? Should the plein air painter paint again because the sun moved more to the west? It's hard to know.

However, when the right amount of effort is indeed put forth, it's crystal clear.

Give a Little

Imagine this: You're walking in downtown Indy. You find that the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra no longer fills the Hilbert with music, the stage has gone dark at Theatre on the Square, art is no longer hanging at all the art galleries around town, and screenings have been canceled for the Heartland Film Festival.

You wouldn't want to live in a city like that, and neither would I.

That's why community support is so important. These past few weeks, grant submission deadlines aligned themselves perfectly to ensure that development personnel in many arts organizations were going nuts. The Indianapolis Children's Choir relies on contributed income to support its expenses, and grants are a piece of that pie.

Watching how tirelessly my colleagues worked these past few weeks was inspiring. "Burning the midnight oil" was a reality, not a cliche. Dotting all the i's in the narratives, making sure the budget data added up, creating artistic documentation that would speak to the grant panelists with a message that says, "Look at all we are doing! Look at how we are making the world a better place! Look how we are touching lives!"

It's no small task. Along with the ever-present efforts to raise money, people in the arts multi-task like no other. Because on top of everything else going on, so must the show.

So the next time you feel moved by a dance performance, wander into an art gallery for a quiet moment in your hectic day, or find your toes tapping to some fabulous live music, give a little.

LIVES IN TUNE: "You've changed the way I'll look at music forever"

The conductors were in the audience for a change.

We premiered Lives in Tune: The Legacy of the Indianapolis Children's Choir. What started out about a year and a half ago as a note I had jotted during the first 25th anniversary committee meeting had a screening tonight in the Basile Theater at the Indiana History Center.

I have a tendency to editorialize my own meeting notes. Next to "Documentary" I had written "not likely".

Glad I proved myself wrong. This was a job worth doing, but had we done it well? You get tunnel vision at times with a long project. I liked it, but would others?

Many in the audience were ICC alumni and family - they were somewhat pre-disposed to seeing the positive in the movie. Even my friends were a bit biased simply because they knew me.

However, there was a gentleman who showed up and had no bias at all. He simply had read about it in the paper today. It was his comments that meant the most. He said, "I simply never knew singing could do that. You've changed the way I'll look at music forever."

Forever? Now that's a compliment. Especially given the fact that neither myself nor the filmmaker had any musical background to speak of. It's certainly a reminder of how powerful this medium of film can be, and it unique ability to tell a story.

Lesson from Chicago

We had nothing in common except.... Wait: We had nothing in common. I rode a bus today sitting next to a 28-year old black male, moving to Indy for a while to help his wheelchair-bound cousin who had been shot. He asked me, "What are the women in Indy like?" Although I'm rarely at a loss for words, I just didn't even have a clue about that one!

He made me think about the other people on the bus. The older couple, the college girls, the mother and child. None of us would really have any reason to come together, but our common experience of a drive to Indy created an artificial community - if only for a few hours. Our status and careers outside of the bus were irrelevant.

I was in Chicago for the American Choral Directors Association conference. The Indianapolis Children's Choir had a presence at the conference in that our founder and artistic director Henry Leck conducted the National Children's Honor Choir.

After a busy weekend I enjoyed the opportunity to do nothing on the bus but think. I thought about how the singers created their own community for a few days too, and details outside of their common experience were inconsequential.

That's what participating in a choir does best: It allows walls to be broken down by the very nature of studying the music, soaking in the text, and creating a beautiful sound together. These singers in Chicago may never see each other again - but they will remember the work they accomplished, and the lesson that we are more alike than different.

If I had an experience like that with my seat mate, perhaps I would have found that common ground as well.

The Focus is Children; the Result is Excellence

I happened to be driving by the Children's Museum of Indianapolis yesterday. Having spent a fair amount of time at the museum when my own kids were younger, I have to say I had never seen quite so many cars parked there. The lot in front was crammed. The parking garage had the "Full" sign out. As I continued driving north on Illinois Street, several smaller lots I hadn't even noticed before were packed to the gills with cars.

An annual gift to the community is free admission on Martin Luther King Day. The museum has been doing this for years, and I quickly made the connection.

Hats off to the Children's Museum. Think about it: the museum opened its doors for free, on what is a day off for the rest of us. The museum most likely had to add extra staff, extra volunteers, extra food and a healthy dose of extra patience.

It takes very special people to dedicate their lives to children. The Children's Museum first opened its doors way back in 1925, and those people had a vision. It's the same vision I have come to learn that the founder of the Indianapolis Children's Choir has. Henry Leck has made an art out of looking past the frustrating nuances of working with children. He gives them his passion, new experiences and a place to grow, along with expectations higher than they would have given themselves. They are better people for it.

From one youth organization to another, to the Children's Museum I say, "Job well done!"

A Long Day's Lesson

As Marketing Director for the Indianapolis Children's Choir, my days are full. Today was fuller than most. It began with meeting a group of singers at a local TV station for a live segment, then shopping for a reception, uploading photos, selling a few tickets, putting the finishing touches on a press release, answering email, answering voice mail, writing a thank-you note to a local news editor for a print story, submitting some information to a choral publication, reserving ad space in another, reviewing a video project, delivering CDs to a retailer, and loading toys into my van that were donated for a local toy drive.

What struck me as I was leaving the concert venue where the toys had been collected was a smile and a wave from a parent who had been at the TV station early this morning as well.

Her day had been as long as mine.

It was another reminder that our parents are one of our finest assets. They sacrifice, rearrange schedules, and put up with last minute changes. A week like this - leading up to a concert - is especially taxing.

Thanks to all our parents, for all you do. When your children file flawlessly into the sanctuary at St. Luke's United Methodist Church this weekend, when you hear the first measure of the first song, when the conductor takes the podium and raises the baton, you'll be reminded why it's worth it.

Collaboration at its Finest kicks-off 25th Anniversary

Aside from the occasional street musician playing his own songs, most projects involving the performing arts are collaborations. Nowhere was this more evident than Friday evening, when the Indianapolis Children's Choir performed the world premiere of The Lost Son.

Collaborators in this concert were many. The company commissioning this piece, Soli Deo Gloria, their talented and visionary CEO and an equally visionary board of directors and artistic director were just the beginning.

The librettist then eloquently penned the story of the prodigal son into poetry and the composer infused song into those words. The narrator and the orchestra and the genius of the ICC founder and artistic director Henry Leck tirelessly rehearsed until the musical score and the voices melded into one.

The Indianapolis Youth Chorale began the concert is such a classy fashion and set the tone for what the audience would experience next. The local Indianapolis media, the ticket buyers, and the financial sponsors all did their part to fill the house. The staffs of the ICC, St. Paul's Music and SDG did dozens of tasks of that go unrecognized.

The videographer and photographers whose work will preserve this moment in time and even the ushers at St. Pauls who hurriedly added extra chairs as the audience was filling the sanctuary all added to the concert's success.

What sets this collaboration apart from our colleagues in the arts community is the keystone without which none of this would happen: the parents.

Thanks to them, the night was divine.