From the New World Anonymous

A rush of patriotic horns and brasses bellowed with fire and passion. I closed my eyes and I envisioned Dvorak at the forefront of the ship as the land drifted out of sight, the vessel carrying him to America. From the New World set me with a journey of my own, through the vibrant pulsation of staccato beats and the delicate accarezzévole timbre.

Synchronizing with the waves of the water, I moved side by side as I brushed my hands over the battered ship. As we reached closer, the horns blared to signal our arrival in America. Startled, I awoke from the daydream and realized I was searching for an instrument to call my own. I was mesmerized by the mahogany-varnished violin in my hands, by its deep scars, which told of a tumultuous life reaching back into the 19th century.

As I stared at this violin, I remembered when music first captivated me. It was at a Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra concert where my chaotic journey began, when I was sitting in the very last balcony seat: this ticket was what my family could afford at the time. I was restless and distracted by everything around me, but when the somber B flat melody of Adagio for Strings echoed, I was pulled into an emotional whirlwind. The long, flowing melodic line from the...