The last time Inna Perkis and Boris Zarankin were on the cover of The WholeNote was in October 2004. Their Off Centre salon series had just turned ten, and so had The WholeNote. A tenth anniversary felt like a big deal back then, so we chatted about it, at quite some length. And right at the end of the chat, one of them, probably Inna, but I am not sure, brought the conversation to a triumphant close (like the final flourish in a Perkis-Zarankin piano four-hander) by saying “and … we have a notebook with program ideas for the next twenty years.” And the other nodded and smiled.

BROADLY SPEAKING, Western classical music has been dominated by the human voice, strings winds and keyboards. The many faces of percussion music however, so central to many other cultures, have been marginalised for most of its thousand-year history.

It was only in the 20th century that percussion instruments began to be featured as (almost) equals alongside the violin and piano. In the auteur hands of European composers such as Igor Stravinsky and Béla Bartók, Americans Henry Cowell and George Antheil, and the Franco-American Edgar Varese, both tuned and un-tuned percussion instruments began to take their place on the classical concert stage alongside more established instruments. Then in the late 1930s, west coast American composers John Cage and Lou Harrison, both students of Henry Cowell, started to write for multi- percussion ensembles.

Up until 1751, the thing we now call New Year’s Day (in the Britannic tradition, which still ordains when we are entitled to get plastered and when we pay our taxes) wasn’t. Instead, the new year was celebrated right around this time of year. It made sense in lots of ways with spring busting out all over. A more convincing marker of renewal than a few more minutes of daily daylight, usually accompanied by an intensification of winter cold.

And speaking of “busting out all over,” this is also the toughest time of year to set editorial priorities. There’s a significant uptick in the number of regular-season performances. There’s a steady buildup of information about upcoming summer musical activity (educational and festival-wise). And the same presenters and venues that are flooding us with press releases and newsletters about March/April events are also clamouring for coverage of their newly announced 2026/27 seasons.

So instead, I am just going to mention a couple of things that particularly caught my eye, while wading knee-deep through the springtime data floodwaters. I chose them because they both, one way or another, speak to a very hopeful trend: for artists, presenters and venues to see what they do not just as a showcase for excellence, but as conduits to music as a vital, participatory community art.
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The first is an announcement from the Music Gallery’s latest newsletter (which is, by the way, chock-a-block with other participatory opportunities). With support from the Ontario Trillium Fund, they are embarking on a one-year project “to purchase special adaptive equipment, conduct training and consultations, and deliver programming in partnership with Deaf and Hard of Hearing artists, in partnership with VibraFusionLab, and Phoenix the Fire, among others.

Phoenix the Fire, a Deaf-led company, “will help design and facilitate a workshop process for Deaf artists, to “integrate and test haptic devices including vibrotactile belts, pillows, and floors” into the process, allowing the Deaf artist to experience sonic information converted into vibrations. “The ability to collaborate in real time, to develop works, and also play in an improvisatory manner is central to our process,” the announcement says.
First up will be an open call “inviting Deaf artists in any creative discipline to participate in a special residency program in September 2026. Five participants will be selected and paired into a collaboration with a music/sound artist to experiment with haptic technologies and workshop their creative ideas through a multi-day residency.”
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For my second example, also arising from a newsletter that caught my eye, you’ll have to make your way, eventually, to the back story in this issue (if you are reading this in print or at kiosk.thewholenote.com). If you have to search for it digitally, it’s titled Watching the excitement unfold: A conversation with Carol Olympus.

A happy old-style new year to you all.

David Perlman can be reached at publisher@thewholenote.com.

Most of our memorable live musical moments are things we plan for, but they are not necessarily the most memorable. Because there are other kinds of musical moments that tend to stand out even more – the ones where we stumble across some music unexpectedly and find ourselves enchanted – sharing the moment with complete strangers similarly bewitched. (Provided that, in such situations, we are prepared to take a chance on sticking around, because you never know, these days, when an accidental encounter with strangers might become too personal.)

I was all set to call this last Opener of 2025 “Flagships and Tugboats” and that’s definitely part of what’s on my mind. But only part.