Remembering Interlochen

During my junior year of high school, I applied to study at the Interlochen Arts Academy. At that point in my life, I was certain that I wanted to become a professional musician. Nothing besides playing the violin really interested me. I practiced more then then I ever had before or have since. I started to make some sacrifices that I thought I needed to make - I spent less time on schoolwork, with friends, with family. I thought, if I want this, I have to give up everything. I knew that thousands of other people my age wanted my spot at music school and in professional orchestras, and if I gave an inch, I could lose everything.

In this mindset, I started to think that I would be better off at Interlochen for my senior year. I would have more time to practice, no friends to distract me, and supposedly better teachers. I would be able to play in an orchestra full of kids who had similar goals and go to school with people who understood why I wanted to practice for three hours each day. I convinced my eternally supportive parents that all of this was true and important. So we went to see the Interlochen orchestra perform in Cleveland, combined with a college visit to the Cleveland Institute of Music.

That concert affected me deeply. The orchestra performed, among other things, Five Variants of Dives and Lazarus for string orchestra and harp by Ralph Vaughn Williams. But because it was a student group, they featured not one, but five harps. There was something about experiencing those five harpists, performing in perfect solidarity and flanked by a sea of strings that moved me beyond words. I thought to myself, I belong here - I need to be a part of this.

I remember driving back to the hotel after the concert. I had immediately called my closest friend to tell him about what I had just felt. And for the rest of the trip, I remained in a sort of daze, fixated on my need to go to Interlochen.

I'm not really sure what happened next. We scheduled a visit for me to see the campus and meet with the violin teacher. Upon my arrival, I was almost certain that I would enroll, and just two short days later, my parents and I departed knowing that I would not. Something just didn't seem right. Maybe I started, finally, thinking about the friends that I would miss. Maybe it occurred to me that I would only have a few months to improve before I had to go off to college auditions anyway. I noticed that many of the Interlochen students didn't even have orchestras at their hometown high schools. This made me realize how lucky I was to have been at Niskayuna for my first three years and what I might miss during my fourth. How much did I really need Interlochen, and how much did they just need my tuition?

Perhaps most of all, for the first time I thought about what I was willing to give up for music. I don't think I even realized I was thinking about this; they were more like proto-thoughts. But up until that decision, my logic was that if I prioritize anything ahead of music, I am hurting my chances of success. It didn't occur to me to consider whether success in music really is more important than spending time with friends, my last year living at home with my parents, taking more challenging courses. Because if it's not, then I'm not really winning by giving up any or all of those things in the name of blind, thoughtless determination. By the end, what will be left?

I love music and always will. But I am learning that there are other things in life that deserve my attention as well. For someone else, Interlochen might absolutely be the best place. For me, the whole experience was an opportunity for growth and thoughtful consideration of what the heck I'm doing with my life.