‘We often think of music as enrichment, a luxury to be enjoyed when academic basics are covered. But growing evidence suggests that music is foundational, especially in the formative years.’
LAST Saturday, I had the privilege of hearing the Manila Symphony Orchestra perform a program that felt at once unfamiliar yet strangely close to home. The evening featured the works of Brazilian composer Heitor Villa-Lobos and Philippine-born composer Jeffrey Ching, brought to life by two remarkable artists, guitarist Fabio Zanon and cellist Fabio Presgrave. The coincidence of their shared first name, their mastery of string instruments, and their common Brazilian roots lent the evening an added charm.
This concert, organized in partnership with the Embassy of Brazil, was my first time immersing myself in a tradition of classical music born far from our shores yet resonating with rhythms and cadences that echo our own. Brazil is often introduced to Filipinos through the gentle sway of bossa nova or the exuberance of samba, but here was another facet, intricate, solemn, expansive, showing us that there are more connections between our countries than trade statistics and diplomatic cables.
While listening, I realized how music operates as a form of soft power. It is not merely entertainment but an instrument of influence, a bridge of understanding. Diplomats speak of “track two diplomacy,” informal exchanges that bypass formal negotiations yet cultivate goodwill between nations. Music, I believe, is track two diplomacy at its finest. It allows us to connect without translation, without agenda, simply by listening together.
The Danish author Hans Christian Andersen once said, “Where words fail, music speaks.” Sitting in that concert hall, I felt this truth. No one had to explain the yearning in the cello’s low register or the light-footed joy in the guitar’s runs. I understood it without knowing the cultural specifics, because music bypasses our linguistic barriers and speaks directly to the emotional core.
This is why concerts like this are more than a toast to various cultures; they are acknowledgements of our shared humanity. They remind us that we can understand each other’s feelings without uttering a word, simply by being open to feeling. Neuroscience supports this. A 2024 study in Frontiers in Psychology showed that listening to music activates brain regions tied to emotion, empathy, and social connection, regardless of the listener’s native culture. Even when we cannot decipher the lyrics, we can decode the emotion.
Music also teaches harmony, not only as a musical term, but as a social ideal. In an orchestra, the cello does not compete with the guitar; each has its place, its moment to lead, its moment to listen. This mirrors the kind of coexistence we hope to see in communities and nations.
The benefits begin early. Research from the University of Southern California’s Brain and Creativity Institute found that children engaged in consistent music education develop stronger neural connections in areas associated with language development, reading skills, and sound processing. Another study published in Frontiers in Psychiatry this year confirmed that music therapy in children with autism spectrum disorder improved not just cognitive skills, but also social responsiveness and emotional regulation. In simpler terms: music doesn’t just make children better musicians; it can make them better communicators and collaborators.
We often think of music as enrichment, a luxury to be enjoyed when academic basics are covered. But growing evidence suggests that music is foundational, especially in the formative years. Singing to infants, for instance, is shown to regulate their mood, improve sleep patterns, and strengthen parent-child bonding. A 2025 longitudinal study from Canada revealed that children exposed to daily musical activities between the ages of 2 and 6 demonstrated higher emotional resilience and greater capacity for empathy in later years.
And it is not just about private enjoyment. Collective music-making, whether in school choirs, community drum circles, or marching bands, fosters teamwork and a sense of belonging. In a fragmented digital age where young people are more likely to interact with screens than with peers, music provides a shared, in-person experience that can counter feelings of isolation.
The concert I attended was an example of cultural diplomacy at work. The Philippines and Brazil are separated by more than 17,000 kilometers, yet our histories share echoes of colonialism, resilience, and creative expression. A night of Villa-Lobos and Ching is not just an exchange of melodies; it is an unspoken affirmation that while geography and language may separate us, art binds us.
Brazil’s investment in such cultural outreach is strategic as well as generous. It is what Joseph Nye, who coined the term “soft power,” described as the ability to shape the preferences of others through attraction rather than coercion. When a young Filipino guitarist hears Fabio Zanon perform, they may be inspired not just to learn Brazilian music but to explore Brazilian culture more deeply. That is an influence that no trade agreement can replicate.
Yet the reach of such concerts remains limited if they are confined to ticketed halls in major cities. The challenge and the opportunity lie in making music accessible to all. Community outreach programs, school partnerships, and free public performances can democratize the experience. Imagine if the performance I heard last Saturday had been broadcast live to public schools in Pasig, Quezon, or Davao, accompanied by an interactive Q&A with the artists. The diplomatic value would multiply.
Countries like Venezuela have already demonstrated the transformative power of such accessibility. Its famed El Sistema program, which offers free classical music education to children, has produced world-class musicians and, more importantly, created safe, aspirational spaces for youth in vulnerable communities. Studies have linked El Sistema to reduced dropout rates and improved social cohesion, proving that music can be as vital to nation-building as any civic policy.
Of course, not all music-related exposure benefits children equally. In Australia, a recent controversy erupted when gambling advertisements were played in the middle of children’s Spotify playlists. This incident underscores the need for careful curation in how music is delivered to young audiences. Content and context matter.
Similarly, debates around whether certain pop stars should be considered role models for children remind us that music’s influence is shaped by both the art and the artist. It is a reminder for parents, educators, and policymakers to remain actively involved in guiding young listeners. In the end, the Manila Symphony Orchestra’s evening with Brazilian artistry was not just a performance. It was a living argument for why music matters in childhood, in diplomacy, in the way we understand each other. Nations may shake hands in boardrooms, but lasting understanding often begins when a song from far away finds a home in our hearts.
Music is not simply the sound of notes arranged in time; it is the sound of our shared human story. It promotes harmony, not just in chords but in communities. And in a world increasingly divided by words, music offers us the rare gift of unity without translation, a universal language spoken by the heart.
