When Hilary Hahn tucks her violin under her chin and raises her bow as a soloist on stages the world over, all eyes are on her — the workaday world and everything else forgotten.
As her musical notes fluttered around a classroom in the Humboldt Park neighborhood on Tuesday, almost none of the 30 or so people there was looking at Hahn. Most of them were staring at the floor. One young woman, wearing a black hoodie and a COVID-19 mask, had her back to Hahn for almost the entire 1 1/2-hour performance.
And Hahn was absolutely fine with that.
Hahn, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s artist-in-residence, made a stop at the Chicago High School for the Arts Tuesday, dropping in on a class of art students. She played a dazzling rendition of Pablo de Sarasate’s “Carmen Fantasy,” among the better-known pieces. But it wasn’t a performance, so much as a collaboration or — “just a big experiment,” as she called it.
“Art of all kinds is about emotions and is about connecting with others,” Hahn said before things got underway. “So I want to see if there is common ground we can find, where I play, and they feel, and they do art about what they feel [from the music].”
So as her bow twitched and danced, the only other sound in the room came from the scrape of charcoal pencil and a rainbow’s palette of pastel crayons.
Hahn has become almost as well-known for her unorthodox way of reaching audiences as she is for her playing. She just wrapped up the sixth season of #100daysofpractice on Instagram, where she has 430,000 followers. Her viewers get to see her work progress from unpolished to gleaming, and she responds to viewer comments.
She also recently completed a series of BYOB [Bring Your Own Baby] concerts with the CSO.
“I do that everywhere I can,” she says. “The whole point of those concerts is it’s for the grown-ups, and they bring the babies. I organize it so it’s not too busy — not too many babies, not too many grown-ups. Everyone can stay in a peaceful zone, however they want to be, just like they are at home.”
The “zone” Tuesday felt a bit like home, too, with students lying and sitting cross-legged on the floor. Several of them didn’t know who Hahn is — beyond being a professional violinist.
Hahn’s staccato notes prompted jagged lines and churning oceans of fiery lava; and her dreamier sequences, turquoise-and-purple seascapes and swirling plumes of ebony smoke.
“I was kind of out of it with the music. I was definitely paying more attention, like staring at her body and the way that she was moving,” said student Ora Aika Light, 17. “I’m not so much for instrumental classical myself, but I still can really appreciate it.”
Light drew a charcoal Hahn — all fractured and shifting lines.
At the end, Hahn declared herself delighted with the experiment, urging the students to let music color their work however they can.
“Just hum to yourself as you draw,” she said. “You can listen to a favorite radio station. You can listen to the sounds outside, a jazz band.”
