logistical issue of moving and storing equipment—eyewitnesses can attest to red-faced, weary students hauling printers, keyboards, and bulky music stands across the campus. Working with people also proved to be challenging: there were talented instrumentalists who couldn’t commit to the organization, or disagreements riled by conflicting interests. But Philippe finds himself dwelling most on their efforts to learn and teach music in a university with no music faculty. The Jesuit Music Ministry and certain individuals from UP College of Music generously lent their help with music scores and arrangement. Meanwhile, the Loyola Schools of Theology and Jesuit Communications provided rehearsal spaces, whereas Dr. Maria Luz Vilches, Dean of the School Of Humanities at the time (and aptly dubbed Blue Symphony’s “number one supporter”) assisted the founders with advice and necessary permits. Blue Symphony didn’t function on its own, and it wouldn’t have been able to. But the challenge of learning on the go produced a sense of doubt for Philippe: “You naturally have an insecurity, because what if what you’re doing is not traditionally correct?” This insecurity trails Blue Symphony, finding shape in feats of resourcefulness or uncertainty. The early years may not be the most glamorous, but they were not without heart. “You’re all obsessed, you all want to be heard, you want to make things perfect,” Philippe says. While there’s something formidable about this drive, the later years would prove that Blue Symphony needed more. Informal help could only last so long; they needed an anchor. Blue Symphony Today Fourteen years later, Blue Symphony finds itself in a situation similar to its beginning years. While the organization reached its
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