When I was 11 years old my mother and I traveled to New York City to visit my aunt, Orin O’Brien. She was the first woman hired full time by Leonard Bernstien and the New York Philharmonic in 1966. Once there, my mom and I sat at Orin’s table in an apartment crammed with records, CD’s, cassettes, sheet music, a baby grand piano, and Orin’s beloved instruments; six handsome double basses, as big and tall as professional athletes. I loved it. 

Orin had the life I wanted for myself. A New York City artist’s life. An independent woman’s life. A life dedicated to music, art, making and teaching. I wanted her dedication, her discipline, and her practical and elegant style. She has navigated getting older better than anyone I’ve ever known. How does she do it?  She hates being placed on a pedestal, but I can’t help it.  I agree with Leonard Bernstein: Orin O’Brien is “as impossible as any miracle.”

At midlife, I find myself and my peers asking difficult questions about the last act of our lives. What legacy, if any, do we want to leave behind? In a culture that puts a premium on career achievement, it can be difficult to know the difference between what we desire and what actually gives us pleasure and purpose. There are so few places we can look  for alternative narratives that lift up the elder women among us. 

In making The Only Girl in the Orchestra, I was surrounded by a multi-generational team of mostly women ranging in age from early twenties to mid-seventies, who were all equally passionate about Orin’s story. The Only Girl in the Orchestra is an attempt at capturing Orin’s passion, essence and perseverance…bottling it and offering it to audiences as a visual perfume.

• Molly O’Brien, is a primetime Emmy award-winning documentary producer and director. Another title she proudly wears is niece to the great Orin herself.