When I was a freshman at the Cleveland Institute of Music, my teacher Yolanda Kondonassis gave me a perplexing worksheet to fill out. It wasn’t about excerpts, repertoire, or harp repair, although she had handouts for all these topics that were extremely helpful. The worksheet was about goal setting, and it was titled “Mission Statement Worksheet.” I stared at it with a mix of emotions. My “mission” up until now was getting into my top-choice music school. Mission accomplished! Wasn’t that enough? Get into a great music school, practice hard, and then—poof—you have a career in music. Right? 

I couldn’t come up with a mission statement because the path I wanted to take in music simply didn’t exist back when I was in school.

Why was this piece of paper asking me to list where I saw myself in five, 10, and 20 years intimidating me? 

I would continue to stare at the paper, knowing I had major dreams and ambitions, yet struggling to articulate anything specific. The truth is that I couldn’t write anything on that piece of paper for years, even after graduating. I would jot down goals, but they never felt authentic or aligned with what I loved about music in the first place. The typical paths presented to me in school didn’t feel true to who I was as a person and didn’t encompass what motivated me about performing. I couldn’t come up with a mission statement because the path I wanted to take in music simply didn’t exist back when I was in school.

I grew up loving the orchestral sound world of composers from Debussy to Bartok. I also listened to a huge variety of music from jazz, pop, R&B, hip-hop, world music, Latin music, electronic music, and more. However, I never thought I would merge the two for my career. 

There was very little harp representation on non-orchestral records when I was growing up. When I did  hear harp on specific records like The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, I would wonder who the harpist was and what their story was. I was not yet aware of pioneering harpists like Dorothy Ashby and Alice Coltrane (although her husband John was a staple in our house!) who have since become encouraging influences for me.

Fast forward to the pandemic: I found myself with extra time, so I began to take the music I loved listening to—specifically R&B and soul—and adapting it to the harp. What resulted was a whole new journey of learning to arrange and improvise, allowing me to embody and play freely within these genres I adore so much. The experience also brought me an innner and personal joy to play my favorite songs on my instrument. It truly carried me through some dark times. As live music returned and people became aware of my work, I began to get bookings specifically for my arrangements. This has been a gratifying new chapter in my career. People are excited to work with me for my personal sound and musical perspective, and I am much more creatively engaged throughout the whole process.

The career I have today would have made 18-year-old me so happy and excited.  Whether it’s performing with artists like Stevie Wonder and Philly rapper Tierra Whack, playing at New York Fashion Week, or touring Europe with Chineke Orchestra, none of these opportunities are what I could have envisioned for myself as a young harpist. 

This past December, I played a tribute to the legendary Notorious B.I.G. at Lincoln Center. I took to Instagram afterwards to share highlights of this concert writing in my caption, “It’s truly a dream when the music you listened to your whole life merges with your orchestral training, creating a whole new genre that is exactly what you want to be doing with your musical life!” 

For this concert, the conductor and arranger Miguel Atwood-Ferguson wrote an extended harp solo that involves cadenza-like virtuosity, and he also encouraged me to improvise on top of what he had written. This solo mimicked the sample used in the Biggie track “I Got a Story to Tell,” originally played by harpist Andreas Vollenweider. At long last, my love of discography, sampling as an art form, and mixing of genres were truly coming together in what I was being asked to do as a harpist. My lifelong commitment to learning the classical idiom and lifelong love of listening to every other kind of music had finally evolved into my new artistic task at hand. This gave me so much confidence to not only play my best but have an amazing time on stage doing so. A great team of top-notch sound engineers amplifying my harp and the stunning acoustics of the new David Geffen Hall didn’t hurt either! I knew that my knowledge of the genre was not just a bonus, but an integral part of the aesthetic, feel, and interpretation I could bring to this music in front of a sold-out audience of riveted Notorious B.I.G. fans in NYC. I believe that these are the moments we are seeking as musicians. Moments where your knowledge, skills, and passions intersect with the music you are being asked to play. Moments where you get to perform with other incredible artists to deliver something you all love and something the audience can deeply appreciate. Moments like this create such a satisfying experience for all involved. 

Honing what you love to do and then sharing it with the world will give back to you in dividends. We are living in a very exciting time in which we can amplify our talents to be recognized for our individual voices. 

I’m happy to report I can now easily fill out the worksheet that stumped me so many years ago. I have so many ideas for how I see my musical life evolving that I have run out of space on the page. I wish the same for every artist who has caught the divine affliction of the creative bug. Keep creating and see where it will take you. •