The SEISO Mission: Musicians Supporting the Community

Last weekend, I had the privilege of performing Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue with the Southeast Iowa Symphony Orchestra (SEISO) under the direction of Bob McConnell. I rarely appear as a soloist with orchestras these days. In college, I was a solo performance major, winning concerto competitions and performing with orchestras—my first appearance as a soloist was at age 12. But in graduate school my path shifted. I discovered the collaborative side of music-making, and it has defined my career ever since.

So when Bob called and asked me to solo with SEISO, I was genuinely surprised. By now, no one really thinks of me as a “soloist”—not because I can’t play, but because the collaborative piano world is almost impossibly demanding. Our lives revolve around a mountain of repertoire at once, constant travel, and the logistics of coordinating the schedules of 40 or 50 people across multiple states and countries. Sometimes I joke that we must all have a kind of built-in hyperfocus just to survive—diving into each project, each hour, each day. Competitions, recordings, auditions, conferences.… all while trying to accommodate everyone else’s timetable, weaving their schedules into our own. It’s exhilarating, but it leaves little time to prepare a concerto properly.

Naturally, I said yes—after all, what pianist wouldn’t leap at the chance to play Rhapsody in Blue? Still, I was concerned about finding enough time to prepare. Coming straight off ten days at the World Saxophone Congress in China, heading immediately into a festival in Switzerland, and managing two September festivals for my nonprofit, IOWinds Alliance, there was simply no way to maintain the consistent practice schedule I usually require for a solo concerto. I shared my concerns with Bob, and thankfully, he completely understood.

He explained that SEISO’s mission is to bring the community together by featuring accomplished regional musicians. Instead of spending huge sums to bring in a Yuja Wang or Khatia Buniatishvili, they aim to highlight the talent already in their own backyard. I found that inspiring and wondered ‘why don’t more orchestras do this?’ Why are we so fascinated by “the other”—by artists from faraway places—when our own communities are full of extraordinary talent?

I moved to Iowa in 2019 after marrying my incredibly talented and successful husband, saxophonist Kenneth Tse. Leaving a long-held teaching position was not easy, but I believed deeply in the value of building a home and a shared life within one community. And I truly loved Iowa—the state, the Iowa City community, the university, and the culture. I’ve never once regretted that decision. Still, I know that to some people I’m simply another “local pianist” living in Iowa City, not someone who has spent over 20 years cultivating an international career and connections around the country that sustain me as a freelance artist.

Bob’s story embodies the same spirit. He’s a pig farmer and an oboist turned conductor who still straddles both worlds. When he told me this during our first phone conversation, I was instantly captivated by the story and its unexpected intrigue. As someone who grew up in rural southern Indiana, I immediately related to his dichotomy and admired how naturally he connects with audiences and communities as a result. It’s a big part of why SEISO’s mission is so compelling—and successful.

Reflecting on the weekend, I’ve been struck by how often orchestras, schools, and festivals seek community support while overlooking the talent within their own communities. Universities recruit outsiders to teach, orchestras book big names, festivals prioritize international artists—assuming, perhaps unconsciously, that “different” means “better.” In doing so, these organizations often fail the very communities that sustain them. Despite their best efforts, orchestras fight to hold their audiences, universities wrestle with recruitment, and festivals frequently vanish after only a few short years.

I’m not comparing myself to Yuja or Khatia, but SEISO’s concert in Burlington, Iowa, was sold out. Attendance records were shattered—double what they’d been two years ago. People who had never attended an orchestra concert before felt a genuine connection to the music and may now become regular concertgoers. I even received a standing ovation. For one brief moment, I wasn’t just the collaborator behind the scenes; I was the soloist again—and it felt wonderful to show that these two roles can coexist.

Best of all, I know I may run into someone from that concert at the grocery store. We’ll talk about the performance, about what it meant to them and to me, and about the shared experience we had. And for that, I am grateful.

This is exactly what makes communities stronger. It’s how you connect with future audience members and inspire students to join our schools. It’s how you build support for the arts, for university programs, for symphonies.

What I love about SEISO’s mission is that they aren’t only asking the community to support them—they’re actively seeking out ways to support their own community in return. That reciprocal spirit is rare, and it’s why this weekend’s concerts felt so meaningful. I was reminded that the future of the arts doesn’t hinge on bigger budgets or star names, but on communities and artists investing in each other. With the SEISO approach, everyone thrives—audiences, performers, and future generations of musicians alike.