Perched on a stool in his family’s one-bedroom apartment, 11-year-old Sebastián Rodríguez runs his fingers over the black and white keys of a plastic keyboard, filling the space with the joyful melody of a children’s song.

Above him, remnants of gang skirmishes in the shape of six bullet holes dot the flimsy tin roof of his home – a common threat in Petare, Caracas, one of Venezuela’s toughest slums.

Sebastián lives with his older sister and mother, nestled together inside a cluster of redbrick buildings and narrow streets.

“As long as he’s this age I don’t even send him to the local shop, I keep him indoors,” says the boy’s mother, Gusmerida Rodríguez. “It looks calm from up here, but it is so unsafe,” she adds peering out of the window on to the neighbourhood – more than 16,000 people were murdered in the country in the first 10 months of 2016, according to the Venezuelan Violence Observatory.

But Sebastián hardly spends any time here; instead he is one of some 700,000 Venezuelans who are part of the world-renowned music programme El Sistema, allowing him to dedicate most of his afternoons to playing piano in his music school – or nucleo – far from Petare.

Founded in 1975 by conductor José Antonio Abreu, the musical and educational project has garnered as many supporters as it has critics. It has been both applauded for making classical music accessible to the lower classes, and bitterly criticised for its alleged nepotism, corruption and mismanagement.



Caracas has experienced protests and looting due to the scarcity of food and medicine. Photograph: Miguel Gutierrez/EPA

Nevertheless, while the country implodes under the weight of a crippling financial crisis – where inflation is heading towards 1,000% – and extreme shortages of food and medicine are close to causing a humanitarian emergency, President Nicolás Maduro’s administration and a number of private entities continue to provide a substantial amount of financial support to El Sistema.



El Sistema’s perceived success has been such that eight consecutive Venezuelan governments have poured money into it throughout the years. One teacher told the Guardian that the funding has even increased.

Indeed, many students and families believe El Sistema is needed more than ever: a free social project that gives the country’s neediest children the chance to escape the dangers of poverty. It is firmly supported by its most famous former student, internationally renowned conductor and director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, Gustavo Dudamel. “Many see art as a luxury that we must cut back on during times of crises,” he said in a recent speech at an awards ceremony. “These people must understand that it is precisely during these times that eliminating access to art becomes an unforgivable sin.”

“All investment in education and culture is justified,” agrees Solveig Hoogesteijn, a Venezuelan film director and head of the cultural initiative Trasnocho Cultural. “El Sistema is not only musical education, it is an important social project that takes children and adolescents from poor areas off the streets,” she says. Yet, there are those who view it as a corrupt system and a soulless PR campaign.

I want to tour everywhere and demonstrate that Venezuela is not a country of destruction Sebastián Rodríguez

In his book Orchestrating Venezuela’s Youth, music professor Geoffrey Baker accuses Abreu of tyranny and discloses tales of alleged sexual abuse within the programme.



“Programmes like El Sistema have historically been reactionary, aiming to support the social status quo, discipline the poor, and produce docile, productive subjects for capitalism,” Baker wrote in a recent essay.



Exiled Venezuelan pianist Gabriela Montero is also one of El Sistema’s main critics, claiming that only the top players benefit from the programme, while everyone else “suffocates”.

But for Sebastián Rodríguez in Petare, joining El Sistema at the age of three allowed him to grow up in a controlled setting where he was taught discipline and hard work, and where he became passionate about classical music.



Students of the José Martí School in Caracas, one of El Sistema’s ‘nucleos’. Photograph: Vladimir Marcano

“From the day he was born I knew I wanted him to be part of El Sistema, I felt like I’d won the lottery when he got into the programme,” says Gusmerida, echoing the thoughts of many Venezuelan parents.



Gusmerida dotes on her youngest child and dedicates the majority of her free time to him and his music; waking up at 4am every day and working seven days a week to keep food on the table. As a single mother she has relied heavily on the education provided by El Sistema to guide her son, putting her utmost faith in it.



The system has also given the young pianist big dreams and expectations that perhaps he may not have had without his teacher’s encouragement.



“I want to tour everywhere and demonstrate that Venezuela is not a country of destruction, I have faith that [the country] will change,” says Sebastián over the deafening noise of the afternoon downpour.

I always saw the system as something magical amidst a crazy situation Sandro Segnini

Far from the dangerous streets of Petare, in one of the programme’s many buildings around Caracas, a trio borne out of El Sistema rehearses for an upcoming local jazz festival. The conversation inevitably turns to Venezuela’s crisis, and like Sebastián, the young musicians are hopeful that the situation will soon change.



“It’s a transitional phase; at some point we will come out of it stronger,” says Grheri Barcelo, the 20-year-old trumpet player of the Tajada Jazz Trio.

Inflation in Venezuela has reached 1,000%. Photograph: Mario Tama/Getty Images

Products of El Sistema’s discipline and education, the young men are eloquent and balanced in discussing their country’s troubles. All three come from humble backgrounds where it is uncommon to own instruments like a double bass or a trumpet.



“They tell you to study, graduate, work and have a family – and you’ve lived your life. Instead, I thought: I can make music and if I can make music I can travel,” says Barcelo. “There are no limits for people here.”



Like Barcelo, countless other children have had the opportunity to travel outside of Venezuela with the system, showcasing their talent and visiting new countries.



Pianist Sandro Segnini, 19, is adamant that El Sistema gives Venezuela’s youth a choice they might not otherwise have.



“Without El Sistema the Venezuelan child would not have the option to choose. [Abreu] founded the system to rescue future generations, because [Venezuelan society] was already deteriorating,” explains Segnini. “Venezuela won’t change with a new president unless the people change.”



Former pupil and El Sistema director Eddy Marcano says: “We power on despite the difficulties. The kids fall in love with this [music] and have an incredible passion for it.”



While there is no official evidence of how the programme has improved Venezuelan society as a whole, it is difficult to find a parent or a child that is not enthusiastic with the idea of belonging to El Sistema. And in a country that appears to be falling to pieces, Abreu’s social project continues to offer a safe haven for the most vulnerable people.

“I always saw the system as something magical amidst a crazy situation,” says Segnini. “I believe [Abreu] has saved a huge part of the population.”



Join our community of development professionals and humanitarians. Follow @GuardianGDP on Twitter using the hashtag #LatAmNow