Music Stories: How Mainque Melipan’s Orchestra Transformed His Life

Original article: Historias de música: Mainque Melipan y la orquesta que le cambió el ritmo a su vida

It’s six in the morning on a Saturday, and 12-year-old Mainque Melipan is already awake. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t ask for five more minutes. He rises with a clear purpose: to attend the rehearsal of the Metropolitan Children’s Symphony Orchestra (OSIM) at the Foundation of Youth and Children’s Orchestras of Chile (FOJI).

For any child, this could be seen as a sacrifice. For him, however, it isn’t. “I love playing my instrument; it brings me joy, it gives me peace, and I have so much fun,” he confidently states. With enthusiasm, he talks about his viola, his inseparable companion since 2022, when he joined the organization.

Mainque lives in Renca with his family. He is on the autism spectrum (ASD), and before joining FOJI, socialization was one of his biggest challenges. The pandemic worsened this isolation: online classes, few meeting spaces, and long days spent at home.

“He was one of those kids who were locked inside: ‘No, I don’t want to go out, not now.’ So, for me, it’s already an immense achievement that he comes with joy now. It’s difficult for a 12-year-old to wake up so early on a Saturday for classes. But when he genuinely enjoys something, it’s not a struggle,” recalled his mother, Daisy Belmar.

The First Step

The connection to the Foundation began thanks to his older sister, a double bassist who has been participating for six years. Through her, the family discovered the educational work and the musical environment that it fosters.

However, Mainque’s entry wasn’t immediate or easy: there was an audition and some jitters.

“I was a bit nervous. Being around many people makes me anxious, but I did my best,” he expressed. The evaluation was in front of several teachers, a demanding moment for any applicant; even more so for someone who faces challenges in unfamiliar social settings. When he learned he had been selected, the excitement was immediate.

For Daisy, that news marked a turning point. She particularly highlights the support from the team, especially the psychological guidance.

“It was a triumph. They were always there, always motivating him. There is constant concern: if he lacks something or finds something difficult, they are present. It’s like a family here,” Daisy notes, adding that in this environment, her son found more than just artistic training: he discovered a community.

“What I love most is playing together and listening to the orchestra. I feel happy, joyful, that we are all there playing with happiness,” the young musician shares.

The year 2025 was pivotal for Mainque: “Last year was my fastest evolution; it was when I socialized the most. I talk more with my classmates, and we hang out during breaks,” he says, mentioning that he has made several friends, laughing and joking with instructors, and sharing moments beyond rehearsals.

What may seem ordinary to others represents a personal victory for him.

The Stage as Celebration

Performing in front of an audience has also been a fundamental part of this process. “My experience is happiness and joy because we show everything there: each rehearsal we had,” he reveals.

Moreover, being part of FOJI entails lessons with high-level instructors, which presents a constant challenge for participants. Mainque embraces this responsibility and acknowledges that the repertoire has become increasingly demanding. The pieces are more complex, and the technical difficulties greater.

But far from intimidating him, this motivates him: “We are playing more difficult pieces every time, with melodies, with rhythms, everything,” he notes, expressing a particular enjoyment for energetic and dynamic pieces.

“The very slow, funereal music… that’s the only bad part,” he jokes, stating that he prefers performances filled with energy and movement. Perhaps because, just like his own journey, they have been full of drive and growth.

For his mother, the impact has been profound. “The fact that he can share is crucial for him. Since he has ASD, it’s still a bit difficult for him to integrate, but not as much as when we started,” she explained.

Mainque himself believes that sound art transcends any barriers. “Sometimes we can’t communicate through language, but with music, you can connect anywhere. It’s a universal language,” he asserts confidently, aware that this space has granted him friendships, security, and a clear place within a team.

Looking ahead, the young boy envisions a future intertwined with this world. He wants to continue playing and even teach someday, although he laughs as he admits, “I’m not very good at teaching, but I am at playing instruments.”

Mainque has already assisted other applicants, accompanying them to face their auditions with calm. He understands what it means to be in that position. Therefore, when he thinks of those still seeking to belong to a group, his advice is straightforward: “Don’t be afraid to apply. When you get in, don’t be so embarrassed because the teachers are really nice.”

Going a step further, he leaves a message for those experiencing similar situations: “If you haven’t found a group yet, keep searching because you will eventually find a place where you will be happy.”

Mainque has already found his. Among violas, rehearsals, and shared laughter, the orchestra not only tunes notes: it strengthens bonds, builds confidence, and opens spaces where every child, with their own rhythm, can feel like they belong.

By Javier González Merino
Journalist, Foundation of Youth and Children’s Orchestras of Chile (FOJI)