In, he paused meaningfully, wherever it is you live, the South Bronx, Marcus said evenly. I live in the South Bronx. A murmur ran through the crowd. To these people, the South Bronx might as well have been another planet, a place they drove past on highways but never actually entered, a name synonymous with everything they've been taught to fear and dismiss. The South Bronx, Harrington repeated, as if the words themselves proved his point.
And tell me, what cultural opportunities does the South Bronx offer for classical music? What concerts have you attended? What master classes? What exposure to the great tradition you presume to be part of?
I listen to recordings, Marcus said. I study scores at the public library. I watch videos online of performances. And Mrs. Chen teaches me. Recordings, libraries, the internet, Harrington repeated, turning to address the audience.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is precisely the problem with modern education. We've convinced people that watching videos is the same as actual study, that self-teaching is equivalent to proper instruction. It's like someone claiming to be a doctor because they read WebMD. Laughter rippled through parts of the crowd, but Marcus noticed that not everyone was laughing.
Catherine Worthington's expression was thoughtful, almost sympathetic. Several other faces showed uncertainty, as if they weren't quite sure what to think anymore. Mr. Harrington came a new voice from the audience. An elderly black man stood dressed in a simple but well-maintained suit.
My name is Dr. James Crawford. I'm a professor of music history at Columbia University. I've been listening very carefully this evening and I have to say that young man's interpretation of the Rachmaninoff was not merely competent. It showed genuine understanding of the piece's historical context and emotional core.
That's not something you get from mimicry. Harrington's eyes flashed dangerously. With all due respect, Dr. Crawford, understanding context and executing at a professional level are two entirely different things. Yes, the boy can play.
I'll grant him that, but there are levels to this art that simply cannot be reached without the proper foundation. Then give him that foundation. Catherine Worthington said standing once more. Vincent, you run the Harrington Foundation.
You have scholarship programs, mentorship opportunities. If this young man has such raw talent, why not help him develop it properly? Because, Harrington said sharply, then seemed to catch himself. He smoothed his expression back into something more controlled.
Because there are hundreds of talented young people who apply to our programs every year. Students who have already proven themselves through years of dedicated study at recognized institutions. Students who understand the commitment required. What makes this boy more deserving than any of them?
Maybe the fact that he taught himself to play like this on a broken keyboard. Dr. Crawford suggested quietly. I've trained musicians for forty years. Vincent, real talent is rare.
Real talent combined with that kind of determination is even rarer. When you find it, you nurture it, regardless of where it comes from. Easy to say from an academic's perspective, Harrington countered. In the real world of professional performance, raw talent isn't enough.