Last month the local daily ran a series called “Free Arts Month.” The premise behind it was that only the rich can afford to attend paid arts, and so on behalf of ordinary folks the reporter devoted an entire month of columns to sniffing out and promoting free events.

I must confess that I groaned inwardly when I first ran across it.  It’s not that I think people should never be able to see an arts event for free, and if the series got more people out experiencing the arts, that's a good thing.  But many Americans already believe the Arts are only for the wealthy (with one hand); while horribly undervaluing the services of artists and musicians (with the other).  I hope that such writings don't help to perpetuate this.

I would rather have seen a series on the many inexpensive opportunities to attend professional arts events in Tacoma; for example, the TSO offers an entire section of the hall for just $12.  And yes, we do give away tickets – but only to those who would otherwise truly be unable to afford it, via our Community Ticket Program administered in cooperation with The United Way of Pierce County.

But ultimately, there are no free arts events.  Trust me, someone is paying for it even if you’re not – either the sponsor, the host, or the artists themselves.

This post comes in the middle of a series of blogs (here, here and here) about orchestra finances stretching back into December, as we have explored both the specifics of the Tacoma Symphony Orchestra’s business model and the generalities of business models throughout the American orchestra industry.  It's a timely subject due to the many orchestras experiencing financial hardships across the nation.  (The TSO remains stable due to exemplary community support; yet all orchestras are fragile institutions, and constant vigilance is the price of financial stability.)   But let's also remind ourselves of the human aspects of all this.  Why does it matter whether orchestras survive or perish?

In November, I blogged about the effect of TSO concerts on a new subscriber (read it here).  Today I want to write a bit about the view from the musician’s seat.  Because ultimately, when we talk about a sustainable business model, we’re talking about being able to pay musicians to practice their art form for the benefit of the community.

The orchestra musician I know most intimately is actually a member of a different TSO:  the Traverse Symphony Orchestra in the middle of Michigan’s north woods.  She is my Aunt Judy, who has spent the last 57 years performing and teaching viola and piano – nearly half of that time as a member of “TSO East” (as I now must call it!).  You can read more about Judy’s life here.

Aunt Judy was my first piano teacher.  I remember my first lesson with her vividly. It was a hot August afternoon; I was six. She sat me down, legs dangling, at an old upright piano.  The setting was my father’s music studio, a converted ice house in a grove of hemlock, cedar and pine just a stone’s throw from Lake Michigan.

That was 43 years ago, and I think my hands have touched a keyboard most days since then.  I’ve never had the single-minded focus of my father (an incredible musician), and I never wanted to be a concert pianist (although at age 17 I wouldn’t have minded being Keith Emerson).  But the piano has been my friend and companion ever since – partly, I think, because of Judy’s soft and loving approach to teaching children.

How many young musicians have benefited from Judy's gentle first musical push over the years?  It must be in the thousands by now in a career spanning the Louisville, Atlanta and Traverse orchestras, coaching student ensembles in the schools, at all times maintaining a large private studio.

There’s not an ounce of pretension or elitism in Judy.  To her, classical music is as natural as the woods, water and critters that are nearest neighbors to her snug little cabin.  It hasn’t made Judy financially wealthy (though she would say she is rich in other more important ways), but she’s been able to carve out a living doing it all this time.  Musicians get good at making a little go a long way.

This is one reason why I believe so strongly in the value of paid professional musicians in our midst.  When you see them onstage at a symphony concert, you’re seeing the visible tip of the iceberg, but the vast underpinning of what they do is invisible to most people.  The next time you sit before an 80-piece orchestra, try to picture not only the individual musicians onstage but also the unseen classrooms, school bands and orchestras, and dozens of individual students each of them touches.  That's a major impact on the community, and it all happens outside the concert hall.  Stable institutions like symphony orchestras, operas and ballets provide the anchor that makes it possible.   Believe me, none of those players are getting rich doing this, and they earn every cent they make.

It’s fine to enjoy an occasional free outdoor summer concert, but you can feel especially proud the next time you buy tickets to a local arts event.  Every ticket you buy – whether box or balcony; and every donation you make – whether estate bequest or widow’s mite – helps keep these unsung musical heroes -- like my Aunt Judy -- working in our midst.