Flash Mob - Performing "I Will Follow Him" & "Jupiter"

What a Wonderful World (Louis Armstrong) | Playing For Change

Playing For Change is proud to present this video of the song "What A Wonderful World" featuring Grandpa Elliott with children's choirs across the globe. In these hard times, children and music bring us hope for a better future. Today we celebrate life and change the world one heart and one song at a time!!

Alison Gopnik, a conversation with Tyler Cowen (children as scientist, Freud & Piaget, AI)

Tyler Cowen, Alison Gopnik on Childhood Learning, AI as a Cultural Technology, and Rethinking Nature vs. Nurture (Ep. 265), Conversations with Tyler, Dec. 17, 2025.

The introduction:

Alison Gopnik is both a psychologist and philosopher at Berkeley, studying how children construct theories of the world from limited data. Her central insight is that babies learn like scientists, running experiments and updating beliefs based on evidence. But Tyler wonders: are scientists actually good learners? It’s a question that leads them into a wide-ranging conversation about what we’ve been systematically underestimating in young minds, what’s wrong with simple nature-versus-nurture frameworks, and whether AI represents genuine intelligence or just a very sophisticated library.

Tyler and Alison cover how children systematically experiment on the world and what study she’d run with $100 million, why babies are more conscious than adults and what consciousness even means, episodic memory and aphantasia, whether Freud got anything right about childhood and what’s held up best from Piaget, how we should teach young children versus school-age kids, how AI should change K-12 education and Gopnik’s case that it’s a cultural technology rather than intelligence, whether the enterprise of twin studies makes sense and why she sees nature versus nurture as the wrong framework entirely, autism and ADHD as diagnostic categories, whether the success of her siblings belies her skepticism about genetic inheritance, her new project on the economics and philosophy of caregiving, and more.

Kids as Scientists:

We have some good computational models of how scientific theory change works. It turns out that those apply to children as well. The specific thing that I’ve looked at is, what is it that scientists do? Here’s this big, hard problem. All we seem to get from the world are a bunch of photons at the back of our retina and disturbances of air in our ears, and yet, children know about people and things, and scientists know about quarks and quantum phenomena. How do we ever get from the data to the theory?

One subcategory of that is, how do we ever get causal structure which is so important in science? How do we ever figure out what causes what just from a bunch of data that we have?

What’s happened is that philosophers of science and computer scientists have found some systematic ways that you could talk about that. Scientists — I think, mostly, not necessarily consciously, but just as part of what they do — and little kids are looking at data and systematically figuring out what kind of structure out there in the world could have caused this pattern of data. That’s not the only thing, of course, that’s going on in science. There’re lots of other things, too, but it’s at least one central thing going on in science that we’ve started to really understand. [...]

If you asked a three-year-old, “Do you think that this pattern of conditional dependencies is giving you a confounding causal structure?” They would probably not give you a very sensible answer. Even when you ask scientists that, they don’t give you a very sensible answer. But when you look at their actual practice, what you see is that, in fact, kids, for example, are Bayesian, and so are scientists.

Now, the thing is that, in fact, in many respects, kids are better Bayesians than scientists, but a lot of it depends on your prior. If you have, as they say, a very peaked prior, you have a lot of experience, you have a lot of reason to believe that this prior assumption is right, then it’s rational not to change it when you just have a little bit of evidence. You should require a lot of evidence to overturn something that you have a lot of confirmation for.

It’s interesting that the kids, actually, are better at solving problems that involve unusual outcomes than the scientists are. I think what happens in science — we’ve just been doing some work about this — is that there’s also a social factor, where having a big distribution of people who are more likely to go with the prior versus people who are more likely to go with the evidence, which seems to be true in science, that collectively can get you to the right answer. There’s no arbitrary principle you can have about when should you abandon the theory and when should you hold onto it. [...]

One thing you can do, which is like what you’re describing about the money supply, is just make little changes to what you already know. That’s what you mean about moving in the predictable direction. You’re just changing things a little bit. Then seeing, “Okay, if I change it a little bit, is it doing a better job of accounting for the data?” That’s what people think of as a low-temperature search. The other kind of search you can do, the high-temperature search, is just bounce around the space. Try wild, crazy things. Exactly as you were saying, have just a more random walk.

The strategy that you see in computer science, this annealing, is start out with this wild, crazy, out-of-the-box, high-temperature search through the space, and then cool off and just fill in the details. If you think about your four-year-old, who do they sound like? Do they sound like the creature that’s just moving a little bit, or do they sound like they’re noisy and bouncy and random and doing all sorts of weird things? The four-year-old seemed to be a really good idea of this kind of random search. [...]

I think you see both things happening. When you get big paradigm shifts, as Kuhn said, when you get big changes in science, a lot of times it’s because someone found an idea that looked like it was improbable. The nice thing about kids is, because they don’t have to worry about grant proposals, they can be off in the wild space all the time.

[...]

With scientists, we underestimate how much that — we sometimes dismissively call it a fishing expedition — how much that very general experimentation is playing a role in scientific progress. In the grant, you’re supposed to say, “Here’s my three hypotheses, and here are the four experiments I’m going to do to test them.” But I think in practice, a lot of times, scientists are being like the little boy with the avocado and the spoon. They’re saying, “I don’t know, what will happen if I try this? What will happen if I try that?” Then they write the grant to get money to do the things that they’ve already done by doing all these experiments.

FWIW, I've known about simulated annealing for years, a couple of decades at least. For awhile I was one of my go-to metaphors/analogies, though I've not used it recently. In terms that I've been developing in other posts and in some working papers, high-temperature search is ludic (Homo Ludens) while low-temperature filling-in-the details is economic (Home Economicus).

LLMs tend to be used in economic ways. All those benchmarks are based on specific problems in well-specified domains. That's why they aren't particularly creative. My series of blog posts on humans in the loop contains case studies of three of my own ludic explorations.

Fuzzy cuddly chatbots for kids

Amanda Hess, They’re Stuffed Animals. They’re Also A.I. Chatbots. NYTimes, Aug, 15, 2025.

Curio is a company that describes itself as “a magical workshop where toys come to life.” When I recently visited its cheery headquarters in Redwood City, Calif., I found it located between a credit union and an air-conditioner repair service. I stepped inside to meet the company’s founders, Misha Sallee and Sam Eaton. And also Grem, a fuzzy cube styled like an anime alien.

Curio makes chatbots wrapped in stuffed animals. Each of its three smiling plushies has a back zipper pocket that hides a Wi-Fi-enabled voice box, linking the character to an artificial intelligence language model calibrated to converse with children as young as 3.

Eaton plunked Grem on a conference table and positioned it to face me. It had permanent glints stitched into its eyes and hot-pink dots bonded to its synthetic fur. “Hey, Grem,” Eaton said. “What are the spots on your face?”

A bright mechanical trill originated from Grem. “Oh, those are my special pink dots,” it said. “I get more as I grow older. They’re like little badges of fun and adventure. Do you have something special that grows with you?” [...]

Grem, and its pals Grok (an apple-cheeked rocket ship not to be confused with the chatbot developed by xAI) and Gabbo (a cuddly video game controller), all of which sell for $99, aren’t the only toys vying for a place in your child’s’ heart. They join a coterie of other chatbot-enabled objects now marketed to kids: So far I’ve found four styled like teddy bears, five like robots, one capybara, a purple dinosaur and an opalescent ghost. They’re called things like ChattyBear the A.I.-Smart Learning Plushie and Poe the A.I. Story Bear. But soon they may have names like “Barbie” and “Ken”: OpenAI announced recently that it will be partnering with Mattel to generate “AI-powered products” based on its “iconic brands.”

A mongoose in the playroom:

In my home, the morning hour in which my children, who are 2 and 4, sit in front of a TV-or-something is a precious time. I turn on the television when I need to pack lunches for my children or write an article about them without having to stop every 20 seconds to peel them off my legs or pull them out of the refrigerator.

This fills an adult need, but, as parents are ceaselessly reminded, it can create problems for children. Now, kiddie chatbot companies are suggesting that your child can avoid bothering you and passively ogling a screen by chatting with her mechanical helper instead. Which feels a bit like unleashing a mongoose into the playroom to kill all the snakes you put in there.

Hmmmm....Behind the bot:

These anthropomorphized gadgets tell children that the natural endpoint for their curiosity lies inside their phones. Now that these kinds of characters are entering children’s physical spaces, in the form of cuddly toys, the terrifying specter of “the screen” has been obscured, but playtime is still tethered to a technological leash. As children speak to their special toy, it back channels with the large language model — and with their grown-ups too.

Surveilling the kiddies:

Curio ensures that every conversation with its chatbots is transcribed and beamed to the guardian’s phone. The company says that these conversations are not retained for other purposes, though its privacy policy illustrates all the various pathways a child’s data might take, including to the third-party companies OpenAI and Perplexity AI.

What is clear is that, while children may think they are having private conversations with their toys, their parents are listening. And as adults intercept these communications, they can reshape them, too, informing the chatbot of a child’s dinosaur obsession or even recruiting it to urge the child to follow a disciplinary program at school.

Of course there is Neal Stephenson's The Diamond Age: Or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer (1995), as one of many fictional progenitors of such things. And then there's my own venture into this world The Freedoniad: A Tale of Epic Adventure in which Two BFFs Travel the Universe and End up in Dunkirk, New York.

The Boy and the Tsunami, a simple story for a 4-year-old [illustrations by ChatGPT]

I’ve appended a conversation I just had with ChatGPT. What’s going on should be self-evident from the dialog. Now imagine what you could do. You could, for example, expand the story to six panels by adding one at the beginning to show the tsunami developing and one just before the end when the tsunami is in retreat, but the sun hasn’t yet come out. Why not make it eight panels? Or you could add other incidents, the boy confronts a volcano, a raging bull, and so forth. Or you can make it about a little girl instead. A different race.

Or a different visual style. When you read the dialog you’ll see that I said nothing about visual style. I could have specified anime style, in the manner of Cardcaptor Sakura, or Warner Brothers, Wylie Coyote. Whatever you want. I have no idea how accurately ChatGPT would mimic those styles, or whether it would balk at such imitation because it guidelines don’t permit it. But it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

Come to think of it, if I knew that the story was being created for a specific child, I’d upload a photo of the child to ChatGPT and as it to model the protagonist on that child. Cartoons being what they are, regardless of the particular style, much detail will be lost. But general body type, facial shape, and coloring – complexion, eyes, hair, not to mention clothing – should survive. There’s a reasonable chance that the child would recognize themselves in the resulting comic.

I wouldn’t say that anything is possible. But, yes, a lot certainly is.

* * * * *

Some years ago I was invited to a birthday party for a four-year-old girl, whom I knew. What was I going to get her? I knew that she’d been talking a lot about monsters recently, so I decided to write a little book for her, “Valerie and the Monsters.”

In this story a little girl named “Valerie” – the four-year-old’s name – was given a magic pencil. Whenever she came across a monster all she had to do was draw a picture of it with the magic pencil and she’d tame the monster. So, in the book I drew pictures of the monsters, wacky semi-funny monsters. I left the facing pages blank so that Valerie could use her pencil to draw a picture of the monster.

When her mother read the story to her at the birthday party she wanted to draw the pictures. But of course her mother didn’t let her. Still, when the story was over, Valerie went around and hugged everyone in the room.

I’m thinking of something similar. I want to make a comic book with a series of four panel episodes. In the first panel a little boy is confronted with a large and frightening “monster,” broadly understood. In the second panel the monster tells the boy, “Guess my name or I will harm you, or your friends and relatives.” In the third panel the boy stands tall and says, “You name is...” And he says the name. In the final panel the monster is chastened and the boy is triumphant.

Let’s try one. In this one the monster is a tsunami. In the first panel we see a little boy standing on the beach in the center of the panel. There’s a rocky hillside behind him. In front of him there’s a large tsunami wave looming high over him, as high as the hillside behind him. He’s cowering down and looking up the way. The sky is cloudy and overcast, maybe with a lightning bolt in the distance.

Now let’s draw the second panel. We see a word balloon at the top of the wave. It’s saying, “Guess my name or I’ll drown you.”

OK, the third panel. The boy is standing tall, a look of defiance on his face. He says, “tsu...tsu...tsu, tsunami!”

In the forth panel the sun has come out, the sky is bright, and the boy is standing tall on a surfboard atop the tsunami wave.

Masaka Kids Africana - Celebrate [Official Music Video]

31,385 views Premiered Jul 18, 2025 MASAKA KIDS AFRICANA New Music video by Masaka Kids Africana performing Celebrate🎈
🎉 Thanks for watching! Don't forget to SUBSCRIBE, Like & Share 🥰❤

Stream / Download Now:👇👇👇
https://www.youtube.com/redirect?

Song: Celebrate🎈🎉 By Masaka Kids Africana
Music Producer: @felixproducer

The Met Children's Choir: Born to Groove

Javier C. Hernández, The Pint-Size Singers Hoping to Be Opera Stars, NYTimes, June 12, 2025. The article opens:

The Metropolitan Opera’s stage door, a plain entrance hidden in the tunnels of Lincoln Center, routinely welcomes star singers, orchestra musicians, stagehands, costumers and ushers. But a different bunch of visitors arrived there on a recent afternoon, carrying stuffed toy rabbits and “Frozen” backpacks.

They were children, ages 7 to 10, dressed in patent leather shoes, frilly socks and jackets decorated with dinosaurs. They were united in a common mission: to win a spot in the Met’s Children’s Chorus, a rigorous, elite training ground for young singers.

What it's all about:

Singing in the shower or in a school choir is one thing. But these students, who came from across New York City and its suburbs, were vying for the chance to perform at the Met, one of the world’s grandest stages, a temple of opera that presents nearly 200 performances each year. Chorus members have a chance at roles like the angelic boys in Mozart’s “The Magic Flute”; the Parisian kids in Puccini’s “La Bohème”; or the street urchins in Bizet’s “Carmen,” to name a few.

“It’s a lot of pressure,” said Luca Aceves Baldissoni, 7, who was curious about how it felt to perform on a big stage. “Opera is really hard. I just hope I can sing well enough.”

The Children’s Chorus is one of the few such programs for young singers in the world. The children who are admitted undergo intensive training, attending free music classes twice a week, with instruction in singing, stage deportment and diction in a number of languages, including Italian, French and German. They sing in the chorus until about age 14, when they grow too tall or, in the case of the boys, their voices change.

They agree to comply with the Met’s strict rules. No yawning onstage. No playing with props. And absolutely no skipping rehearsals.

The audition:

With Piccolo at the piano, and their parents watching, the students joined together to sing “Happy Birthday,” the audition song of choice at the Met for decades. (Everybody knows the song, Piccolo said, and the octave leap in the third phrase is a revealing challenge.)

“Sing bravely!” he said. “I’m sure you’re all brave!”

Then the students took turns singing “Happy Birthday” alone. Piccolo tested their ability to match pitches on the piano and sing scales, and he peppered them with questions.

About performing:

The Met’s chorus attracts a mix of students. Some have grown up singing and have dreams of appearing on the Met’s stage or on Broadway. Others have little experience but are curious about opera. If they are cast in one, the children must attend all costume fittings, rehearsals and performances. The Met provides tutoring to make up for missed classroom time, in compliance with state law. Chorus members are required to have child performer permits from the New York State Department of Labor, and they are paid the minimum wage of $16.50 per hour for rehearsals. They get a flat performance fee of $33 per opera act, though they can earn more than $1,000 for solo roles.

Diverse things I find interesting

Friday Fotos: Hoboken sampler

Let's Groove: Hoboken Spring Arts & Music Festival

Kidz these days seem stripped of agency, don't know how to build

Akim Reinhardt, Fly, Be Free, 3 Quarks Daily, April 23, 2025.

Reinhardt starts by complaining about over-parenting in the contemporary world, something I've been reading about for at least a decade if not two. He's concerned about the consequences:

The point here is not to criticize modern middle class parents or make them feel bad. That would be hypocritical as I have no children of my own. But as someone who has been teaching college students for a quarter-century, it seems to me that the overprotective parenting style along with other factors, such as modern K-12 education and near constant attention to screens, have had a profound effect. Ask any long time college instructor. They will tell you. Things have changed.

Today’s 18–22 year olds are nowhere nearly as competent as their predecessors. Note: I did not write “smart.” Today’s students are plenty smart. But they are less competent. And they know it. Their ability to do has been crippled. Denied a childhood of self- and peer-directed discovery, problem solving, dispute resolution, and genuine play, many young adults no longer know how to make their way through the world in basic ways.

They’re well aware of this and it causes many of them great anxiety. It has also engendered many of them with very unrealistic expectations about what others will do for them. Because the parents and other adults in their lives constantly directed them in nearly all endeavors, they expect that direction to continue as they themselves become adults.

In the classroom, they now require detailed instructions for every assignment. When I began teaching, I didn’t even bother giving them an assignment sheet, and they were fine with that. They knew what to do when I said “write a paper.” Now my assignment sheets can run as long as a double-sided, single spaced page, and some of them still complain that it’s not enough direction.

Alas, it’s not just in college.

I know dozens of people in management positions in industries as varied as entertainment, software, and auto repair. Absolutely all of them, when I ask, complain about how their new, young workers can’t seem to figure out basic tasks by themselves, or even think it reasonable that they should, instead expecting their superiors to explain everything for them.

Here's my response:

Color me sympathetic, Akim, deeply sympathetic. I grew in Western PA in the 1950s and 60s in a neighborhood that was suburban on the edge of rural. One good friend lived on a one acre lot. As I recall there was a small cornfield in the middle of the lot and plots for various vegetable. At the rear of the lot, away from the street, and next to a small wooded area there was a place where we tunneled into the ground a bit and built a small underground chamber which was central to many of the games we played. I can almost remember shoveling some dirt out of the hole and putting it elsewhere.

There was another spot in the wood where we cleared a small area and carpeted the ground with moss. We would find patches of moss, lift them from the ground very carefully so they didn't break and them move these "tiles" to where we wanted them. In another place we piled rocks across a small stream to dam the water. We then saw the water build up behind our small dam and become a small pool. In middle school we had shop class where we learned to build things with hand tools. We also had mechanical drawing, where we learned how to make precise engineering drawings that could be used in building things.

Johnstown was a steel town. My friends had fathers who worked in the steel mills. When they became old enough, some of them went into the mills as well. The mills themselves were large physical structures that I saw often.

Now, I've spent most of my life thinking about very abstract things, and exploring abstract worlds. But that intellectual activity rests on a childhood of experience where I moved freely about the physical world, worked on it and with it, changed it.

I can't help but think that a lot of the hype and craziness that surrounds AI – something I know a thing or two about because that's a world in which I think – is the result of not having a strong enough grasp of the physical world. I don't know how often I've heard a complaint that we're not a nation of builders. Some of that complaint is directed at the plethora of regulations which makes is much easier to NOT-BUILD than to build. But I fear some of it is the result that too many adults never learned how to build during childhood and so they can't do it as adults. Rather, they want the machines to do it for them.

This is not a formula for a propitious future.

Soaring brass [Mnozil rocks out] and dignified kids [Nakagurose Elementary School]

I love Mnozil, and I love those Japanese kids. I'm bumping this to the top of the queue on general principle.

 

I love these guys, and I love this particular clip, crude, rude, loud, and bombastic though it is. And funny too. 

But I particularly like the passage that starts at about 3:23 and continues through 3:49, where the trumpets play in harmony, to about 4:14, where they're switching gears to move into the next section of the melody. That passage has been haunting me for the last two or three days. It pops into my inner ear and plays over and over until...it doesn't or until I listen to this clip.

Why? Well, I suppose in part because I'm a trumpeter and the trumpets get to soar. I know what it is to play like that. But you don't have to be a trumpeter to get there. You just have to like music.

* * * * *

I love these guys too, the whole clip. But they're not guys, most of them are girls–though there are a few guys here and there. I've been listening to this one for maybe 10 years. That long?

They clearly love what they're doing. They're serious about it. Above all, they're dignified. And, in a way, they're adult. Better, when they're performing they're no longer kids–for, as you can plainly see, that's what they are–they're just people making music.

No particular age. Age doesn't matter here.

Just musical beings.

Lessons in laughter

Lessons in laughter:

Dozens of you have shared this lovely video with me over the past couple days. And I just love that it illustrates two baby lessons in one.

First, as I’ve shared many times in the past, there’s nothing funnier than the unexpected. And just as a standup… pic.twitter.com/htfWM3F6EY

— Dan Wuori (@DanWuori) March 24, 2025

A new study in Nigeria shows the usefulness of GPT-4 as a tutor

No working paper yet, but the results and experiment are written up here. They used Microsoft Copilot and teachers provided guidance and initial prompts: https://t.co/F2cdnAsdkk

— Ethan Mollick (@emollick) January 15, 2025

And since it isn't clear to everyone who doesn't read the blog post - the fact that this is teacher-led is likely very important. We know that independent use of AI as a tutor can harm learning in some circumstances, because it gives the illusion of learning.

— Ethan Mollick (@emollick) January 15, 2025

I wrote more about when AI helps and hurts education here. https://t.co/5wqT3JmsB4

— Ethan Mollick (@emollick) January 16, 2025

Ellen plays bass [does she ever!]

Friday Fotos: Let's Dance

Colt Clark and the Quarantine Kids Drive the Beatle's Car

From the YouTube page:

Hey guys! IT’S BEATLES WEDNESDAY! We haven’t said that in a while! One of our New Year’s resolutions is to get back to Beatles Wednesdays. It won’t be every Wednesday necessarily, but we want to bring them back. We’ve covered 171 Beatles/ solo Beatle songs in the last (almost) 5 years! We plan to replay some of them because it has been so long since we first performed them for ya’ll. We played tonight’s song for the first time 4 years ago! On another fun note, something is missing in our video today. Could you see it? Cash got his braces off this morning! 😊 He looks so handsome if I say so myself. Next week he gets his learner’s permit to start learning how to drive. How did we get here so fast?! In honor of that milestone, we hope you enjoy tonight’s song. Don’t forget to get your “pay-what-you-can” January 14th Livestream Living Room Show ticket where we’ll be celebrating Cash’s 15th birthday (link below)! 😊 This is Colt Clark and the Quarantine Kids playing, “Drive My Car” by The Beatles.

If you haven’t purchased your ticket for our January 14th Livestream Living Room Show yet, get your pay-what-you-can ticket here: https://evt.live/ccqk-jan14

Fer Chrissake! Let kids move, plan, and act.

Jenny Anderson and Rebecca Winthrop, Giving Kids Some Autonomy Has Surprising Results, NYTimes, 1.2.25.

In a polarized nation, one point of agreement deserves more attention: Young adults say they feel woefully unprepared for life in the work force, and employers say they’re right.

In a survey by Gallup and the Walton Family Foundation of more than 4,000 members of Gen Z, 49 percent of respondents said they did not feel prepared for the future. Employers complain that young hires lack initiative, communication skills, problem-solving abilities and resilience.

There’s a reason the system isn’t serving people well, and it goes beyond the usual culprits of social media and Covid. Many recent graduates aren’t able to set targets, take initiative, figure things out and deal with setbacks — because in school and at home they were too rarely afforded any agency.

Giving kids agency doesn’t mean letting them do whatever they want. It doesn’t mean lowering expectations, turning education into entertainment or allowing children to choose their own adventure. It means requiring them to identify and pursue some of their own goals, helping them build strategies to reach those goals, assessing their progress and guiding them to course-correct when they fall short.

Learning to "drive":

No adult can force a student to be self-driven. Children develop the skill the way they learn anything else: with practice. The act of setting the goal makes it more meaningful. When we visited Carmen Arellano, a teacher at Arthur Kramer Elementary School in Dallas, she had students set learning goals for every class she taught, and when they met them, “they chase me down in the hallway to tell me,” she said. “I think it just really makes them proud of what they’ve accomplished.” [...]

As the developmental psychologist Aliza Pressman says: “Let kids do for themselves what they can already do. And guide and encourage them to do things they can almost do. And then teach and model for them the things that they can’t do.” This is how parents can help their children build agency.

Change the goal of eduction:

Maybe it’s time to define a higher ideal for education, less about ranking and sorting students on narrow measures of achievement and more about helping young people figure out how to unlock their potential and how to operate in the world. Amid the drumbeat of evolving artificial intelligence, wars, rising authoritarianism, political polarization and digital disconnection, they need to learn a lot more than how to follow instructions.

The children's New Year's concert

The Russian (from the YouTube page):

По традиции мы подготовили к Новому году праздничный концерт. Все произведения дети разучивали самостоятельно, в свое свободное время. Надеемся этот концерт подарит Вам радость и хорошее настроение.

С наступающим Новым годом!

Мира, здоровья, благополучия!

Translated into English

Traditionally, we have prepared a festive concert for the New Year. The children learned all the pieces on their own, in their free time. We hope this concert will bring you joy and a good mood.

Happy New Year!

Peace, health, prosperity!

And why not Japanese?

伝統に従って、私たちは新年にお祝いのコンサートを準備しました。子どもたちは自由時間にすべての曲を自分たちで学びました。このコンサートが皆さんに喜びと良い気分を与えてくれることを願っています。

あけましておめでとう！

平和、健康、繁栄！

Gavriil on the piano at 3 years and 3 months