Recently, I have been thinking about the importance of mentoring and legacy. Legacy has been on my mind because my grandmother is preparing to be welcomed back home to the Divine, and she has been leaving a lasting impression on my mom and my aunt who are her caregivers. She has no physical illness, but suffers from dementia, although she knows the members of her family. She seems to be between worlds, but despite not being completely grounded in reality, she prays without ceasing. When I was a child and did not know what my next step in life would be, she would unequivocally say, “ Pray for guidance, Tania.” Those are the words of wisdom that have made an indelible impact on my life. As my grandma approaches her 103^rd birthday in January, I will send her prayers to assist her on her journey.

My dad has had several health challenges in the last few years, but he has not let them interrupt his daily routine of visiting the sick and secluded, serving mass and volunteering on committees that are important to him. Although my mom has been begging him to slow down, he continues to press on. He retired from his day job seven years ago but intends to be a full-time deacon until the Church retires him. His passion and enthusiasm for his life’s work and dedication to his job inspire me. We don’t have to be at the end of our lives or the end of our careers in order to inspire others to live their best lives.

This past Sunday, my husband and I attended a party for my flute teacher and mentor, David Cramer, who retired from the Philadelphia Orchestra after 37 years of being their Associate Principal Flute. I was thrilled that my husband got the opportunity to meet my mentor at this party. I was able to reconnect with people I had not spoken to since the mid 1990’s and was reminded of the lessons I had learned as a student. From the very first lesson I had with David Cramer, he insisted I raise my standards in regard to executing the music with a beautiful tone, flawless fingers, even technique and the utmost musicality. If anything was amiss, the etude, study or piece had to be redone. I spent many hours practicing to get as close to perfect as possible. Any free time I had left was spent listening to recordings of great flutists, great orchestras and attending live performances of the Philadelphia Orchestra. Waiting in line at the Academy of Music for amphitheater tickets was a Saturday night ritual for eight years of my life because the amphitheater was considered the best place to hear the orchestra. I met many people from all walks of life in those Academy lines. Some had been making the pilgrimage to the Academy for those tickets for decades and could tell interesting stories about the various conductors and soloists who had debuted with the orchestra. They had seen so many performances that they could offer an educated critique of each person sitting on that stage, and they talked as if they knew the members of the orchestra personally. When the orchestra moved from the Academy to the Kimmel Center, the patrons I had met in line bought subscription seats, so the wait for tickets was not nearly as entertaining. I managed to hear the orchestra from every tier of the Kimmel Center, so I felt as if I got the most balanced listening perspective. When I completed my lessons with David Cramer after nine years of study, I tried to emulate everything he stood for in the orchestra – beautiful sound, even technique and an exquisite level of artistry. He was the “Power of Elegance” personified. I never made it big by winning an orchestral job, but I was able to apply the level of excellence he commanded by sharing his knowledge and teaching philosophy with my flute students and Art Institute students.

My Music Appreciation lecture at the Art Institute this week highlighted the works of Bach, Handel, Haydn and Mozart. I have four hours per class to develop the material around this subject matter, and the students in my classes are primarily audio, video and culinary majors with no prior knowledge of music history. A few years ago, I read a book by Randy Pausch, entitled The Last Lecture. Dr. Pausch was dying of cancer and wanted to impress upon his students the importance of achieving your childhood dreams. At the end of his final lecture he stated, “It’s not about how to achieve your dreams, it’s about how to lead your life. If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself, the dreams will come to you.” I don’t believe you have to be dying in order to share the tools of success with your students. The people who enroll in my class with each passing quarter will leave my class and perhaps never see me again. I don’t have to be dying in order to give them my best, but every lecture is essentially my “last lecture” on the subject matter. It is not my goal to get them to love classical music, but I can show them ways to better identify with it and teach them the type of discipline associated with it, which will help advance them to the next level of their development.

After I concluded my lecture material on Mozart, I showed my students a clip from the movie Amadeus. This movie premiered in 1984 and was the recipient of two Academy awards, including best picture and best actor (F. Murray Abraham). The students enrolled in my class were not even born until the late 1990’s, so they had never seen the film. Since so many of them are Star Wars fans, I couldn’t wait to tell them that Mark Hamill actually auditioned for the roll of Mozart because he had played him in the theater production of Amadeus. Tom Hulce won the audition because the director did not want Luke Skywalker on his set. The segment I showed is when Mozart meets the Emperor, the court composer Salieri, the Kappelmeister, the opera director and Baron van Swieten. Salieri composes a melody to mark the occasion of Mozart’s visit, which the Emperor muddles through on the piano at sight. As Mozart processes into the room, he is perplexed to hear an adult stumbling to play such a simple melody. The Emperor commissions an opera from Mozart, who is thrilled because he has discovered a “wonderful libretto.” This opera will eventually morph into The Abduction from the Seraglio. What I find amusing about the scene are the superior attitudes, sarcasm and almost open hostility geared toward the well-known genius. Mozart, however, maintains a healthy sense-of-humor in the midst of his older, respected colleagues. After graciously accepting the opera commission, the Emperor tries to give Mozart the score to Salieri’s melody that had been composed in his honor. Mozart tells the Emperor to “keep it” because “it is already in my head.” The Emperor is quite astonished at this pronouncement and asks Mozart to demonstrate his skill. Mozart sits at the piano and plays the melody exactly as Salieri has composed it, and then improvises on it.

I believe that at any given point in life, we can identify with every character in that scene. We might be the Mozart with the genius idea, or the Salieri who is extremely jealous of the genius, or the person who appreciates the genius idea as being the “most promising work I’ve heard in years,” or, perhaps, the critic who claims the genius is “a young man trying to impress beyond his abilities; there’s too much spice, too many notes.” It is enlightening to see all the different personalities exaggerated on screen. A few years ago, I saw the theater production of Amadeus. I hate to admit that I enjoyed the film much more than the play, however, there was a scene in the play I found particularly compelling. The scene occurred just before the production concluded. The house went completely dark, and a spotlight projected down on Salieri. He began randomly pointing to different people in the audience and saying, “I forgive you for being mediocre, I forgive you for being mediocre, I forgive you for being mediocre…” He had created nothing but mediocre music his whole life. It was popular at the time, and, according to Salieri in the film, “Everyone liked me; I liked myself, “ but his music did not endure. In the film he prays to God that his music make him “immortal,” and, in exchange, he “will give Him his chastity.” None of Salieri’s music is performed today. He was fully aware of the fact that his talent could not match that of Mozart, no matter how hard he tried. With the Salieri character uttering that he forgives the mediocrity of others, he was also forgiving himself, whom one might label the “king of mediocrity.”

Did my students enjoy the short segment of this Oscar award winning film? Absolutely! A few even said they would be curious enough to see it through to its conclusion. Although it might not be historically accurate, it’s highly entertaining, plays Mozart’s amazing music consistently throughout the film and imparts some compelling life lessons, when analyzed from a philosophical standpoint. Mozart’s music has made its way into pop culture and thus appeals to my pop culture obsessed students. They might only know this great classic artist from the sound bytes they hear in television or film, but it does not mean they cannot be inspired by the journey of a child prodigy who accomplished more than most in his thirty-five years of life. I hope the immediate lessons they can take away from this week’s class are: (1) Genius ideas can appear at any age of development, so it’s never too late to live the dream. (2) When in doubt, pray for guidance or immerse yourself in the joys and passions, which ignite your temperament. (3) Do everything to the very best of your ability, and go the extra mile to be considered a genius your audience simply cannot live without. The human condition is the same from era to era, so wisdom permeates every generation in life. Recognize and appreciate when you’re in the presence of greatness, for everyone has the spark of the Divine burning inside them. The path to a lasting legacy is paved with love. Enjoy the journey!