I am probably the only current Juilliard student residing in northwest Iowa, where cows and corn stalks outnumber people, and the skyline is comprised of silos and water towers. I have spent the past two years in a town called Orange City (pop. 5,000), where I teach piano and ear training at Northwestern College, a liberal arts institution. Although rural America has seen its share of well-known and talented musicians reside in these types of settings (the Ying Quartet was based in Iowa about a decade ago, as the first recipient of an N.E.A. grant to support chamber music in rural America, and the Chiara String Quartet was in North Dakota as a recipient of a Chamber Music America Rural Residency), I was not expecting to find a vibrant music culture here in the heartland of America, having spent five years in cities such as Boston and New York. But as I approach the end of my tenure here, I realize that I have developed a deep appreciation for the passion and enthusiasm from the musicians in these farmlands.

The author on the campus of Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa.

No experience has made this clearer for me than a recent performance I gave in Cherokee, Iowa (pop. 6,000), a town that claims to be the smallest in America to have an orchestra not affiliated with a college or university--the Cherokee Symphony. This ensemble asked me to perform the Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 4 in G Major, Op. 58, with them in February. Driving to Cherokee for our first rehearsal after a long day of work, a 50-minute trip on one-lane highways during which I was mostly surrounded by extreme darkness, I was not in the best of moods. My spirits did not improve when I first walked into the performance space. It was a run-down, aged auditorium, with folding chairs and an old black curtain framing the crowded, elevated stage. Let's just say that the Cherokee Community Center Auditorium is not exactly Avery Fisher Hall.

My mood began to change, however, as I conversed with the orchestra members. I met Vonnie, a violinist in her 60s, who drove two hours with her husband, principal flutist Walter, to get to the rehearsal. There was Jorge, one of several high school students in the group, a budding young violinist and pianist. A medical doctor, David, led the viola section. Many of these orchestra members came from far away to meet together in this tiny town, and to my shock, were all volunteers. Lee Thorson has been directing this ensemble for 22 seasons. He is a modern-day renaissance man: a professional conductor, cellist, professor, farmer, and pilot. "The synergy between the audience and the players is amazing," he says. "We play for nearly full houses all the time and occasionally standing room only."

Once we started to rehearse, I began to understand what made this orchestra special. The members played with an intense enthusiasm that inspired me. It was apparent that even the Kawai grand piano on the stage had been rebuilt with great care, given its beautiful tone. Leading up to the concert, there were severe ice and snow storms in the region, but I was sure that all the orchestra's members would come to perform even if a tornado ripped through town. (In fact, on the day of our performance, a few of them were stuck in winter weather but persevered to arrive just in time.) The concert ended up being one of my most memorable; the appearance of the auditorium faded away, replaced by the warmth of a packed-house audience that was one of the most respectful and appreciative I've ever experienced.

"Charles Ives at the Crossroads: Tradition and Innovation in His PIano Trio" Lecture-Performance by Brian Lee With Stephen Clapp, Joel Krosnick, and Leena Chopra Morse Hall Wednesday, April 23, 4 p.m.

Despite being hundreds of miles from Juilliard, in some ways, I feel closer to the School than I did while I was in residence. Performers and composers with Juilliard ties are ever-present; last year I heard the Northwestern College Symphonic Band, led by my colleague Tim McGarvey, a marvelous conductor, perform two works I had never experienced before: former Juilliard faculty member Vincent Persichetti's Symphony for Band, and a piece by former Juilliard president Peter Mennin called Canzona. I found it ironic that I heard these wonderful works only after coming to rural Iowa. A year ago, I had the privilege of being a soloist with the Sioux City Symphony Orchestra, performing a piece by Juilliard alumna Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, conducted by another former Juilliard student, Stephen Rogers Radcliffe. Yes, the impact of Juilliard is being felt here next to the corn, cows, and silos.

I am grateful to be a small part of that influence. It has been a profound privilege to teach, work, and make music with this community. Although I came to northwest Iowa thinking that I would inspire them, I will leave this summer with the realization that it is they who have inspired me.

Brian Lee, a fifth-year doctoral student, is assistant professor of piano at Northwestern College.