When I googled “How does art inspire personal growth?”, it returned with the following answer: “Art inspires personal growth by encouraging self-expression, fostering creativity, and helping us see life from new perspectives.” Based on my experience, I would humbly take a step further to say that music cultivates humility and deepens empathy. In this regard, I have two stories to share: first on my joining a rock band, and second on my weekly visits to an assisted living facility called Knollwood.
My Rock Band, “The Policy”
Throughout my life, even from a young age, I have loved classical music. I often wondered how my life would have differed if some composers — Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt — did not exist. I love popular music, too, and would often go out with friends and dance the night away. I still do! Popular music, however, was entertainment for me, while classical music was much bigger. I would save money to purchase expensive tickets to immerse myself in classical music concerts, whereas for popular music, I was fully content with radios and YouTube videos. Like many classical music lovers, I felt slight elitism towards popular music, subconsciously viewing it as inferior to the grandeur of classical compositions. This perspective persisted until a recent experience that shifted my perspective of music entirely.
Two years ago, I was presented with an unexpected opportunity to join a rock band, “The Policy.” My boss, aware of my classical piano background, approached me and asked if I wanted to become the keyboard player for a new rock band he was forming. He had already set up a complete set of instruments in his basement (drums, keyboard, guitar, and bass) to create a rock band with his four kids, but none of them were interested. So, he was recruiting his colleagues and employees at work to join him in playing rock music. In two weeks, the band “The Policy” was formed (the name “Police” was already taken by Sting in the 1980s). We have performed about 17 times in public venues including music festivals, corporate parties, and bars. We play ‘80s, ‘90s, and 2000s rock music by iconic artists like ACDC, ZZ Top, Bon Jovi, Guns N’ Roses, Journey, and Oasis.
Jumping into a new genre of music has been a precious and eye-opening journey. Apart from camaraderie built through late-night jam sessions and beer afterwards, playing rock music has humbled me profoundly. I did not realize how much I had yet to learn about music! Shortly after joining the band, I searched for a synthesizer with 88 keys. I visited music stores and talked with experts in electronic instruments. It was there that I discovered there was so much knowledge, technique, sophistication, and history behind electronic music. Even the slightest adjustment of a button on a synthesizer could produce a completely different depth of sound. The ability to generate a myriad of sounds and beats using various control keys within one single machine was astonishing. I became fascinated by the endless possibilities of sound manipulation within a 3-minute song. Biographies of some popular music artists were as intense and heartbreaking as some written about well-known classical composers. The music technicians I encountered, often talented musicians themselves, were so eager to show me the types of sounds the instruments could orchestrate. It felt as if I had stumbled into a hidden world, equally beautiful and sophisticated, but in a different way. This experience deepened my appreciation for pop music’s impact on people’s daily lives, especially its convening power and emotional resonance.
As I continue to play Chopin and Liszt, I hold a deep-seated love for classical music that will never fade. However, I am also immensely grateful for the journey that has allowed me to embrace and appreciate the raw energy of rock and electronic digital music (EDM).
My Knollwood Opportunity
I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have the opportunity to perform regularly at a senior assisted living facility, The Knollwood Assisted Living. I have a repertoire of about 1.5 hours of piano music, and I rotate the list of songs to play for 45 minutes every Thursday evening. My journey with Knollwood began in 2016 when my family relocated to the Northwest part of Washington, DC. I was walking through the neighborhood to familiarize myself with the area and came across Knollwood. I went inside and volunteered to play piano for anyone interested in classical music. Except for during the Covid-19 lockdowns, I have been returning ever since. This weekly commitment is of high priority to me. I make it a point to be there unless I am traveling for work, visiting family abroad, or feeling ill.
This gig has proven to be an invaluable opportunity for me because the cost is relatively low, yet the benefits are so high. The staff and residents at Knollwood express their huge gratitude for my weekly visits, when in fact, it is not a difficult task at all. Knollwood is a 5-minute walk from my house, eliminating any need for additional efforts to get there. Furthermore, performing at Knollwood serves as an excellent opportunity to practice the pieces I have learned over the years, ensuring that I do not forget them. The audience prefers softer music, so I play nocturnes and romantic pieces, selections that are suited for a variety of social occasions. While my weekly visits require commitment, they provide a wonderful escape from my office work, allowing me to dive into music, even for 45 minutes, before returning to my desk later in the evening. I intentionally block my Thursday evenings.
Most of the audience at Knollwood face challenges such as dementia and Alzheimer’s disease and require assistance from nurses. It is not unusual to see confused and frightened expressions on their faces when they see me. Some do not remember me, even though I have played in the same room, often the same music, countless times before. However, once I begin to play pieces like Debussy’s Claire de Lune, I often hear a collective sigh of relief and see soft smiles. These familiar melodies seem to evoke a sense of comfort and calmness. One lovely lady, a regular attendee, once shared that when she hears me play, she feels like her late husband, whom she dearly misses, is in the same room with her. Another lady, who is usually silent and seemingly asleep in her wheelchair, surprised me one day by approaching the piano and spontaneously playing Bach’s Goldberg Variations, then returned to her slumber shortly thereafter. One gentleman always calls me “Christine” and asks me to rub his back after I play, mistaking me for this wife. At the conclusion of each session, I am met with warm gratitude, whether spoken in words or in facial expressions from those unable to speak. It is priceless.
Knollwood has been an extraordinary place for me, offering far more than just a platform for me to perform. It is challenging to express my emotions about playing there in just a few words. Sometimes it is warm, inviting and deeply rewarding. Other times, it is slow, draining, and painful, particularly when familiar faces disappear, knowing I will never see them again. Yet, I am profoundly grateful and humbled that they invite me there every week. In truth, it is I who benefit the most, not the audience.