About a year and a half ago, I heard about a possible opening for a resident artist position at the Claridge Court Independent Living Community in Prairie Village, Kansas. A few interviews and weeks later, I performed a short concert with a fellow UMKC Conservatory graduate student, followed by a conversation about my background, career goals and love for puzzles.
From that moment on, I felt right at home.
For a full year, I lived as the student resident artist at Claridge Court. In exchange for room and board, I put on a full-length concert each month and regularly performed in more casual settings. I also took part in weekly community activities to help build bridges between the Claridge Court community and UMKC Conservatory.
I became good friends with my fellow residents and, little by little, learned everyone there has a connection to music, even those who don’t consider themselves musical.
Scientists have found that music can be beneficial mentally, emotionally and even physically. But what makes it so powerful is that someone can recall decades later exactly when and where they saw their first live performance, what song an older sibling used to play growing up, or which composer they were drawn to as a child?
To better understand the impact of music over time, I asked residents in a survey about their experiences with music throughout life. I received 30 responses in total. While gathering their stories about music, I realized I’d also been collecting my own stories about my time at Claridge Court — unforgettable moments I’ll carry for the rest of my life, just as the residents have carried theirs.
‘It was such a blessing’
When I first moved into Claridge Court, I got to work learning peoples’ names and faces over breakfast, in “Ageless Yoga” and chair volleyball classes, and at the mailroom, where an impromptu party seemed to commence every night around 8.
One of my first friends was Pat.
I had dinner with Pat the evening before the UMKC semester started, and I invited her over to meet my foster kittens. I was feeling nervous about school, and we ended up sitting at my piano, trading musical ideas and singing our favorite hymns.
That evening we were both in need of a piece of home.
Pat grew up in a small farming town, and she played bassoon in her high school band.
“It was such a blessing,” she told me about her music director, Thomas Price.
“Nobody worked harder than he did,” Pat said. “He really was very dedicated. Every kid in the band, he gave private lessons to — everyone — (and) he didn’t charge any of us.”
According to her recollection, Price began to teach after serving in World War II and receiving a Master of Music degree from Northwestern University.
“He taught us what you have to do to be good at something,” Pat remembered, “and we were good!”
“Nobody worked harder than he did — he really was very dedicated. Every kid in the band he gave private lessons to — everyone. He didn’t charge any of us,” she said.
I showed Pat a few of my favorite Christmas melodies, especially those written by my grandpa. She shared memories of meeting her husband for the first time.
“He played the French horn, and, when he was in high school, their band director said, ‘This is an assignment, you do not have a choice: You have to go hear the Maysville High School band play,’” she said.
“That was our band,” Pat added, and “that was the first time we were in a room together!”
A true celebration
The first two concerts I put on for Claridge Court consisted mostly of traditional classical music: a solo piano concert in July featuring music by Ludwig van Beethoven, Alexander Scriabin, Johann Sebastian Bach, and Franz Liszt, and a voice and piano concert with one of my collaborative partners at UMKC that featured operatic arias and art songs.
But leading up to my concert in October, I did my best to brace residents for a less traditional musical experience: a concert of all modern classical compositions performed by my chamber quartet, Full Gremlin.
When the group formed in early 2023, we found exactly one piece written for our unusual instrumentation — flute, clarinet, percussion and piano. Everything else we played was an original work that we created, or written for us by composers at the UMKC Conservatory.
When the concert day arrived, I wasn’t sure if we’d draw an excited crowd, an apprehensive crowd, or a crowd of just Jill, the Claridge Court lifestyle director. But I’d never seen Claridge Hall so full. So many people showed up that they overflowed out the doors of the modestly-sized hall.
Our audience was gracious and enthusiastic in their applause after every piece. They were excited to hear about our plans going forward and lined up after the concert to ask questions and meet the quartet members.
That evening was a true celebration.
“It was the most enjoyable event I’ve experienced in my four-plus years as a resident,” wrote Susie, a resident (and neighbor whose can opener I’ve borrowed on too many occasions), to Conservatory board members about the concert. “To hear and to watch those four young musicians produce such contemporary, K.C. area composers’ compositions…was educational, lively, quirky, and joyful.”
Our group was invited back to perform a Christmas concert, which included a sing-along and matching Christmas pajamas for the performers.
“It was more unique, more modern music,” said Charlie, a resident who came up with the idea for my Claridge Court residency with his wife, Mary Kay. “I think people enjoyed the variety and the contrast, and getting a little better feel for the scope of activities and skill sets being developed at the Conservatory.”
Charlie and Mary Kay have a special connection to the UMKC Conservatory. Charlie’s grandfather founded the Horner Institute of Fine Arts which, in 1926, merged with the Kansas City Conservatory, which came to be known as the UMKC Conservatory.
Charlie’s mother was also a musical influence.
“My mother gave me piano lessons, and I wasn't very good and had very little talent, so I dropped out early on,” he said. “But I've learned you can marry talent and it's almost as good.”
‘Better than listening to politics’
In a survey I sent to residents asking about their music background, Karl, a resident and breakfast friend, said he didn’t consider himself a musical person. About having live music available at Claridge Court, he said, “It’s here, it’s convenient, and it’s better than listening to politics.”
“Strangely enough, both sisters took piano lessons,” he continued when asked about his experiences with music growing up. “But I took them for a while, and the teacher gave up.
Yet, when I walked past Karl’s apartment, I frequently heard him listening to recordings of his wife, Pam, singing classical melodies and opera.
“My wife could pick up sheet music and know what it was supposed to sound like and sing it,” he said. “I went to one of (her choir) rehearsals, and I had to go outside in the hall, it was so discordant. But Pam and these two other guys, they loved doing things like that!”
Karl also described Pam’s recent funeral service, and how Pam wanted the Brahms Requiem sung at her funeral. After early doubts if it would happen, he said, “they came from various symphony choruses…to sing with the choir at Village (Presbyterian Church). There were about 40 people in the choir.”
The mystery couple
As I was playing piano during a late-November dinner, a resident named Bob approached me and said he “doesn’t know music.” Then, Bob proceeded to tell me he loves Peter Tchaikovsky. In response, I decided to play the piano reduction of Tchaikovsky’s famous Violin Concerto in D major.
Shortly into the 20-minute piece, I noticed a couple walk out of the dining room and stop to listen from some nearby armchairs.
I usually recognize my impromptu audience — especially regulars like Zoë, the West Highland white terrier who walks to the lounge with her human caregiver each week so she can listen, wag her tail and get pets from me. But I didn’t recognize these two.
The piece was relatively long and I was worried it was becoming an inconvenience, but, once the piece came to its dramatic close, the couple clapped and walked over to greet me.
One of them had a father who had died a couple days prior. She told me, after feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, listening to my music made her feel hopeful again.
Music has done the same for me in my worst moments, and I was beyond grateful to provide hope and a healing space for somebody else.
I’ve realized that music itself is a language — one that can communicate past differences, ease pain and unify a whole room of people all at once.
With such incredible power for connection, and with the joy and meaning that music brings to so many individuals, it needs to be more available at every stage and circumstance of life.
Although my residency at Claridge Court is behind me, I'm excited to keep learning from, and connecting with, the amazing friends I've made there. Whether it’s through making art, practicing yoga, performing music, or chatting over breakfast, we all have stories to tell. I can’t wait to keep listening.
