A Conversation with Sandi Sigurdson (Part One)

As we know, Sandi Sigurdson is stepping down after fifteen years as Executive Director of the symphony. She kindly agreed to be interviewed for the blog. I arrived at her house on a Saturday morning. "Are you hungry?" she asked almost as soon as I was in the door. "I had some coffee and yogurt earlier," I replied. "So, you're probably still hungry." I was. "I thought so. Let's have some breakfast!" Sandi said excitedly. "Do you like poached or scrambled eggs? Aren't these little potatoes cute? Do you like salsa? This is the best salsa in the world. I'll make more coffee." Properly fed and caffeinated, we got down to business.

David Hennessee: Tell me about your early life. Did you want to run a symphony when you grew up?

Sandi Sigurdson: (laughs) I’m the oldest of five -- five children born in six years. I was born in British Columbia, but spent my childhood in San Diego and later Los Angeles – Inglewood. When I was a kid, across the alley from us lived an older couple, Mr. and Mrs. Large. They were about sixty, and I thought of them as “ancient.” Mrs. Large died and Mr. Large moved away, but before he did he gave me his portable record player and enormous collection of 78s – almost all classical… and Mario Lanza.

DH: Lanza was sort of the “Il Divo” or Andrea Bocelli of the time, right?

SS: Exactly. I loved organizing this huge collection of records, and I especially fell in love with Tchaikoivsky’s “Swan Lake.” I knew the story and put together performances with my siblings as ballerinas, and myself as the star, of course. We’d charge my parents and anyone else five cents to watch the performance.

DH: So even as a little kid you were organizing and managing performers?

SS: I guess I was! Also, unlike my mother who never sat down, my best friend’s mother listened to jazz and classical in the evenings, and I just thought that was the most refined, civilized thing to do. We were fortunate to live close to several major performance venues. We’d go to the Pilgrimage Theater (now the Ford Theater) and to Hollywood Bowl for jazz and Fourth of July concerts. We’d get seats in the nosebleed section ($2 per ticket – can you believe that!), pick up some KFC and watch the LA Phil. There’s something about Tchaikovsky and fireworks.

DH: We’ve spoken before about how Tchaikovsky is a great “starter” composer – repetitive, hummable melodies, no dissonance… I used to listen to the symphonies and ballets a lot as a kid.

SS: Me too – with Tchaikosky the emotions are so big and in-your-face, and that’s where you’re at as a kid and a teenager. These days though, I like big-old-ballsy, complex music: Mahler and Metallica! And Barber!

DH: So you went to a lot of concerts in LA?

SS: Yes, especially after two performance spaces came on the scene: The LA Music Center and the Forum (did I hear that it was getting torn down?). When these opened, there was a ton of buzz; everyone wanted to go, me included. I was like twelve or thirteen and saw the Supremes with Little Stevie Wonder (who’s the same age as me), BB King… Grand Funk Railroad was my first rock concert. They were so loud, I couldn’t hear for days! OH! And I loved your blog entry last year, David, that included Petula Clark video. I saw her and met her family at the Coconut Grove. It was great to have this easy access to music and have these venues as part of your life. It’s my hope that we do something similar at the San Luis Obispo Symphony, make music an easy part of people’s lives through the concerts in the PAC, the free dress rehearsals, the Pops concerts at Avila Beach, and the chamber music concerts around the county.

DH: Do you still make it to LA for concerts?

SS: I do – my husband (Steve McGrath), myself, and our friends the Spatafores are subscribers to the LA Opera. On performance days we leave SLO at 8am, eat lunch on the plaza at the Music Center, and then the performance starts at 2pm. It’s over about 6 or 7pm, then we drive back. Lately we’ve been getting in to Wagner and the Ring Cycle. I’m coming late to opera, and it’s a revelation. It’s like the first time you eat Thai food – you never knew that food could have flavor combinations like that. Our first LA Opera was an amazing production of Tannhauser. The set was all in red and there were people simulating sex onstage, and the virginal and holy heroine was all in white – it’s hard to explain how powerful it was, but five hours later I was on the edge of my seat, sobbing at the beauty and nobility of this woman. I felt the same way about the Pacific Repertory Opera’s production of “Madama Butterfly” last spring. The music, the modern sensibility, the exploration of racism – I was dazzled.

DH: What other performances stand out in memory?

SS: As I got older, if I wanted to see a concert but couldn’t find anyone to go with me, I’d just go by myself. I saw Dave Brubeck [legendary jazz pianist], and in college I got to see Aaron Copland conduct at the University of Colorado at Boulder (Go Buffs!). I’ll never forget that; I was on the first row just mesmerized by this tall, thin man conducting with a lifetime of experience behind him.

DH: How did you wind up in San Luis Obispo?

SS: I worked for fifteen years in Southern California in hotel and restaurant management. After Steve and I married, we made a conscious decision to “live the SLO life.” I worked part-time at a doctor’s office in Cambria, and in 1988 we bought a house in SLO (twenty-one years later we’re still in this house. They’ll have to take us out feet first.) I began looking for a job and heard that the SLO Symphony was looking for a secretary. I got the job and worked for two years under Cricket Handler, who was Executive Director at the time. Then she stepped down, and I took over as Interim Director. I didn’t think I’d do it for very long. Then they did a big search; I applied and got the job.

DH: What changed your mind about doing the job on more permanent basis?

SS: I liked the musicians! I also saw that I could do valuable work for the organization. Mike was building this talented orchestra with strong community ties and Cricket had laid a strong foundation for the group to become more professional in terms of policies and organization. Together they launched the music education program. I saw a lot of potential and room for growth, and wanted to be part of that.

DH: The orchestra certainly has grown over the years. Why do you think that is?

SS: Well, Mike Nowak is a brilliant programmer and nurturing conductor and our musicians are so talented and dedicated. We owe a lot of it to the completion of the Performing Arts Center in 1996. It was a big, sexy draw for audiences when it opened. The first year we played there, we were sold-out on subscriptions. There were hundreds of people we just couldn’t seat, the demand was so high. A lot of groups using the PAC experienced the same demand, so they doubled or even tripled their programming. There was some pressure for us to add Friday night or Saturday afternoon shows. It’s much, much to Mike's credit that he said: no, let’s see how it goes and not respond to this immediate pressure. Then demand tapered off, and some of those other groups faced half-empty halls, but our demand stayed high. Then in 1999 tech stocks crashed. All of a sudden no one had any money, but we rode that out, and were able to continue serving the community and even add the free dress rehearsals. We continued to sell out the Saturday evening concerts. We expanded music education and merged with the Youth Symphony, which was an investment in the future. Kathleen Lenski [Grammy-award winning violinist] moved to the area in 2000, and with her we started the chamber music concerts, bringing what we do to different parts of the county.

DH: How did your job change as the orchestra grew?

SS: I used to do a lot of the bookkeeping and payroll, record keeping and such. There was a wonderful and oh-so-curmudgeonly volunteer to help with that, Alan Goldsmith, a Jewish-Austrian expatriate who actually experienced Kristallnacht. Can you believe that? When I first started it was me and part-time secretary and a part-time music education/marketing coordinator. Think about it: those are two very different jobs. Now we have a brilliant staff of seven, lead by Patty Thayer, dozens of volunteers, and of course the hard-working Board of Directors. A big change from the old days. We used to do it all: take out the trash, vacuum… oh! A great example of that: when we played in Pismo at the Church of the Nazarene, I’d hand-write Row A, Row B, Row C, ect. on adhesive file folder labels and put them on the carpet to show people which row their seats were in!

DH: You’re open about not having formal musical training. What’s that been like, working for an orchestra?

SS: Well, I did sing in high school and still love to sing…. badly. Former Music Ed Director Jaime Lewis and I are going to LA Master Chorale in December for a sing-along Messiah. But sometimes in discussions with my more musical executive director peers, I don’t get all the classical references or jokes. I’m so lucky that Mike has always very been kind and patient about schooling me. He’s never been anything but willing to educate me about classical music. For example, I simply didn’t know there was a trombone and a bass trombone.

DH: Does a bass trombone burn longer?

SS: Bad joke! But I get it!

G is for Getting There

Woody Allen once said that “90% of life is just showing up.” For musicians, it’s sometimes challenging to show up at a rehearsal or performance at the right place and time. Fortunate are those who land positions with major orchestras. They plant themselves in a city, do that job, and take in some students, maybe work at a local university. On the other hand, to make ends meet, freelance musicians often must play in several groups in different locations and do lots of occasional work (weddings, parties, etc.). This career path can involve a great deal of driving. For many, being a “freeway flyer” is the price one must pay for a career in music.

And there is a price: check out this blog entry that details the efforts of a musician to cobble together a living wage. The pay for four positions (with gas and car maintenance figured in) comes to $11/hour, $18,000 a year.

http://doublebassblog.org/2007/10/this-crazy-business-part-5-driving-for-dollars-–-life-as-a-classical-music-bottom-feeder.html

Our own conductor, Mike Nowak, describes how some three-hour jobs in LA pay $150. Adding in his drive time from Los Osos, that’s about $15/hour – before taxes, gas, and food.

Then there can be snags in “getting there.” You never know what will happen. Violist Karen Loewi Jones relates one of her “horror stories of LA commuting”:

“I always had to drive myself because nobody lived in Long Beach. I was driving to an LA Opera matinee on a Sunday and figured there would be no traffic, but still gave myself plenty of time. Hit the Hollywood freeway and bam...dead stop. I didn't think I was going to make it. Got to the pit, dripping in sweat, literally 30 seconds before the downbeat.”

Mike Nowak agrees that you never know what will happen in LA: traffic, earthquakes, mudslides, car trouble. He describes how, currently, for a 10am session, he leaves around 8:15am to arrive at the studio around 9am, with time to warm up and settle in. This extra time also allows a cushion for anything unexpected, since as he says, in LA “you’re just not allowed to be late” or you won’t be asked back.

And then there’s Murphy’s Law. Case in point: in college I played with the Oklahoma City Philharmonic, which rehearsed in downtown OKC, an hour away from my home. Some background: I usually have a 5 o’clock shadow because my face is very sensitive. If I try to shave every day my face looks like it’s been attacked by rabid hamsters. This was even more the case when I was 22. Once, in an effort to save money, I switched to cheap disposable razors. Big mistake. It’s like shaving with a butter knife. Before a concert, I shaved with one of these 99 cent wonders, and the result… rabid hamster face. I couldn’t get the bleeding to stop. Running very late, face covered in bits of Kleenex, I did 80 mph all the way to the Civic Center, ran backstage, unpacked, walked quickly onstage, sat down and 10 seconds later played the downbeat of Scheherazade. That was cutting it too close! Currently on concert days I shave around 9am so that by 1pm dress rehearsals, the carnage is under control.

Commuting isn’t all low pay, traffic, and profuse bleeding, however. There can be positive aspects. For example, a while back, Violinist Valarie Koos accidentally shredded her parking pass, so she carpooled with Kaoru Miyanouchi. Valarie obtained a new parking pass, and both she and Kaoru live in SLO, so not much gas money is saved by their carpooling. Still, they found the conversation before and after rehearsals so enjoyable, they continued riding together.

I’ve had some similar experiences. In high school, I played in the Oklahoma Youth Orchestra, and some friends and I would make the hour and forty-five minute drive from Lawton to OKC in the comfort of a trumpet player’s dad’s plush van. We could relax, listen to our Walkmen (remember those?) and talk about whatever 17 year-olds talk about. Moreover, for several years my dad and I drove one-and-a-half hours to my viola teacher’s home. During that time we talked about all sorts of things, and he taught me the ins-and-outs of highway driving.

It was a coming-of-age when I gained enough experience to drive myself. I mostly listened to music. It was during these trips that I learned all the words to West Side Story, The Sound of Music, and Joni Mitchell’s first two albums.

Commuting can also provide time for reflection. Mike Nowak relates that to maximize this opportunity for quiet time, and to minimize stress, for him “a one-day gig [in LA] turns into a three-day project.” He leaves Los Osos the day before, then stays with friends in LA. He works the next day 10am-5pm (or 6pm), then drives to Santa Barbara that night, usually staying in a hotel by the ocean. When driving, he used to listen to talk radio. These days, however, he often works on music in his head, thinking about scores and programming. Sometimes he’ll listen to a ball game on the radio, imagining what it looks like. He doesn’t talk on the phone or listen to music often, except for recordings friends and colleagues have given him of their concert performances and studio recordings. Repertoire can range from standards (for example, Shunske Sato performing Ysaye) or new music, including pieces by contemporary composers. “LA is so noisy,” Mike says, the quiet time in the car, spaced out over a few days, means that he arrives home rested, not hungry or stressed from driving after dark. As he says, “I don’t bring LA home with me.”

Commuting is a fact of life for many in the SLO Symphony since its musicians come from all over the county. We receive a mileage compensation – even people like me who live a stone’s throw from the PAC. However, for musicians who live farther away, drive time can pose a problem on concert days. The dress rehearsal is usually over around 3 pm. By the time one packs up and gets out of the congested parking lots, it can be 3:30. To drive back to Santa Maria, Cambria, San Simeon, or Paso Robles would not only be costly, but only allow a couple of hours of downtime before the concert. To avoid this problem, some musicians stay with friends who live closer to the PAC. For example, violinist Margaret Berrio hosts a number of these “orphans” in her home. Instead of rushing to and from SLO twice in one day, they can relax, have a nap, a nice dinner, and socialize with other musicians.

So while the cliché “Getting there is half the fun,” may be an overstatement, neither does commuting have to be an onerous experience. Perhaps it’s the price we pay to take the most rewarding journey: the musical one.

Please feel free to leave your best-and-worst “getting there” stories in the comments section.

Up next, "I is for Intonation."

DH

Viola jokes:

What's the latest crime wave in New York City? Drive-by viola recitals.

Why do violists leave their violas on the dashboard of their cars?
 So they can park in handicapped zones.

F is for Flow (air flow, that is)

By guest blogger, oboist Linda Ashworth.

After reading the blog on bowing, I knew this one had to be written, but probably not by our regular blogger. This story from David illustrates why:

“I'm the youngest of 3, and growing up my brother played horn and sister clarinet. They were always talking about and working on their embouchures. I didn't really know what that was, just that it had to do with the position of the instrument relative to your body. So when I started playing viola, I proudly stood in front of them and said, "How's my embouchure?"

Sorry David. I imagine you know what an embouchure is by now, if only by osmosis, but someone else better write this column. So with the foreknowledge that you are now reading a column written by a geneticist instead of a college English professor, here we go.....

Airflow. Without it, my instrument is mute. Wind instruments like the ones I play (English horn and it’s little sister the oboe) create sound by producing vibrations “out of thin air”. No plucking or bowing of strings to get vibration, no striking a mallet against some kind of surface. Air. Coming out of my lungs.

As a general rule, the larger the instrument, the more air is needed to produce sound. Think tuba: large mouthpiece, large diameter tubing, lots of air needed. At the other end of the spectrum is the oboe. With the smallest opening for the air to pass through of any wind instrument, oboists actually use very little air to produce their sound. The exception to this rule is flutes & piccolos, falling in a category all their own. To make sound, a flutist blows air across a hole – similar to making sound on an empty Coke bottle – and only a portion goes into the instrument. Our piccolo player Martha Uhey tells me they need more air than any other wind player. I’ve tried playing flute a couple of times and I believe her! How a flutist plays a phrase longer than 2 bars, I will never know.

In the same way that air is used to vibrate your vocal chords when you speak or sing, a second element is needed to create sound besides just that airstream. Different wind instruments offer different types of “tools” to be vibrated by that stream of air. For brass players, their lips vibrate in the mouthpiece. For single reed and double reed players (clarinets, saxophones, oboes, bassoons) there is a carefully carved bamboo reed (made from Arundo donax; see photo) that does the vibrating. And flutes – well, the best I can understand is something about the air bouncing off the interior back wall inside the flute ‘mouthhole’ that sets up vibrations in the air column. For any more than that, you’ll have to consult your local acoustician or physicist.

Ideally, a player prepares to play a musical phrase by taking a breath, and begins sound production at the exact moment defined by the music. Ideally that single breath will be enough to get through the entire phrase. Ideally, at the end of the phrase the player has time to take another breath and prepare for the next note or phrase. If only it were always that easy. In reality, planning where and how to breath can be as important for wind players as planning bowings is for string players. Maybe more. Getting caught at the end of a phrase without enough air to finish is simply not kosher.

So what do we do when the phrase is just too long for a single breath? There are lots of tricks, depending on the situation. First, if possible, you exhale deeply before inhaling in order to clear CO2 out of the lungs. Maybe more than once. That alone will allow you to extend a phrase just a bit. If the problem occurs in a tutti passage, you can plan your breathing with others, so that no one breathes in the same place, effectively hiding breaks in the phrase. In a long solo line, a wind player may need to find somewhere logical mid-phrase to sneak a quick breath, hopefully without disturbing the line of the music. This is probably the most commonly used solution. There is also something called circular breathing that some players use. It involves filling your cheeks with air while you are playing. Next this stored air is expelled from the cheeks to continue sound production while you inhale through your nose. It’s kind of a parlor trick, but can occasionally be used to good end. (If you want to try it, get a glass of water and a straw and shoot for continuous bubbles.)

Sometimes an understanding composer solves the problem of a “too-long” phrase for you. In the opening oboe solo in the Adagio of Bizet’s First Symphony, the solo is passed to the second oboist (seamlessly hopefully) so that the first oboist gets a break. Then the first comes back in to finishes the solo. Take a listen to the two oboists of the Bilkent Symphony Orchestra (of Ankara, Turkey) performing the Bizet solo – about one minute in to the movement.

Okay, here comes the hard stuff...how to make this vibration sound GOOD. The place where your instrument meets your airstream is called the embouchure (pronounced ahm-boo-sure). The embouchure is all-important for stable pitch and great tone quality for all wind instruments. What part of your lip touches the mouthpiece/reed, how much of the lip, and how firmly all matter. The reason many people think a young oboist quacks like a duck is for lack of a mature embouchure. (Okay, so some of you still think we quack like ducks.) The good news is that the muscles that form any embouchure can be trained and strengthened. Practicing keeps those muscles in good shape. Lay off playing for a week or two, and it is your embouchure that suffers the most.

In addition to the embouchure, there are several other parameters about airflow that affect the quality of the sound produced. Without going into lots of details, here’s a laundry list:

• How is the airstream started?

• How is the airstream supported?

• Is the throat open?

• Where is your jaw placed?

• Where is the tongue in the mouth?

• How fast is the air moving?

• What direction is the air moving?

• How focused is the airstream?

• What are your lips doing?

• How do you stop the airstream?

You get the idea…..there are A LOT of elements involved in controlling airflow, and the quality of the sound produced is affected by them all. Not only that, they interact. Here’s an example: In order to play a crescendo, wind musicians will make the airstream move faster. However, this also increases the pitch of the note produced. Uh oh. So how do I play a crescendo without raising the pitch of the sound? I subtly change the shape of my oral cavity as increase the airflow, which allows the volume to go up while staying in tune. Okay, okay, most of the time.

Another important element involving the airstream is also how to separate notes. We call it tonguing. Slurred notes require no tonguing, but to create any kind of note separation, wind players use their tongue to interrupt the airflow. Think “ta-ta-ta” or “da-da-da”. And for really fast notes, some players can double tongue and even triple tongue. Think “ka-ta-ka-ta” or “ta-ka-ta-ta-ka-ta”. Of course players of each instrument approach tonguing differently. There is a big difference between tonguing for brass players, whose mouthpiece sits OUTSIDE their lips, and reed players, who have something INSIDE their mouths. There could be an entire blog on this: “T is for tonguing”. Maybe a trumpeter would volunteer to write it. They are always the ones to play those fanfares with lots of tongued notes in rapid succession.

The practicalities of tonguing can sometimes run up against the dictates of fashion; for example the trend among youth today for body modification. The following quote from the web is was written in response to a sax player considering tongue piercing:

“I play the clarinet and during my senior year I got my tongue pierced. I always left it in while playing and it didn’t make a difference. I also was 1st chair and the band director never questioned me. Of course there are some contradictions as far as placement. I have a longer tongue so it was never in the way. If you have a shorter tongue, it’s possible it may be a problem, but when you “tongue” while playing it’s w/ the tip and the tip of the tongue is usually not pierced. I would recommend going to see a body piercer to see what you’re placement options are. If the piercing is placed close to the tip, there will also be a higher risk for damaging your teeth. I played after having the piercing for 3 days; there was minimal swelling left, but I was able to still play well.”

Ick. I just can’t imagine that.

Finally, just the fewest of words about airflow and vibrato. Not all wind players use vibrato. But technically speaking they could. There have been thousands of words written about how to play vibrato on oboe alone. And no, we don’t wiggle our finger like a violinist. So how do we mimic a lovely string vibrato? We have to vary speed the air travels through the instrument. It is somewhat similar to a series of swift crescendo/diminuendos. And it starts clear down in the abdomen. For those who might be interested, oboe professor Martin Shuring (Arizona State) has written a brief description of vibrato production:

http://www.public.asu.edu/~schuring/Oboe/vibrato.html.

If you’re still reading this, thank you. That’s probably enough hot air on the subject of airflow. Except for an obligatory oboe joke:

Q. How do you get an oboe to play A flat?

A. Take the batteries out of the tuner.

LKA

E is for Ensemble

Hi everyone. What a fun Pops concert! Great film music, and the Damon Castillo Band “rocked the house,” as the kids say. (Do they even say that anymore? I’ll have to ask my students). I’d never seen so many people dancing at a Pops concert. Dancing to the 1812 Overture is a little hard. I’d also never found dead gnats stuck to my forehead at intermission. I’m up for new experiences, but there are limits.

I’m getting ready to start teaching at Poly, entering pedagogue mode. Not easy after a summer off, so for help I’m going to channel Julia Child, or at least Meryl Streep doing Julia Child.

An “Ensemble” (said with authority in a flutey upper-class voice) is a group that’s performing, whether musical or otherwise. An ensemble should never be overcooked to the point of tastelessness. Be sure to lubricate the ensemble well with butter and duck fat… the best way to express the duck fat is with a press. How about dinner in half a minute for your ensemble! Omelette! Next on the French Chef!

I have no idea what she’s doing or what she’s talking about (my cooking skills extend to boiling water for French-press coffee) so I’ll stop the Julia imitation. However, I am an academic, and good at definitions. Lead with your strengths, here goes…

In addition to a performing group, “Ensemble” can also refer to what someone is wearing. For example: “Michelle Obama wore a stunning ensemble today.” Bare arms? Long sleeves? J Crew? Health care for millions of uninsured Americans? No more war? Stay tuned.

So what is Ensemble? Here’s an example of what NOT to do with ensemble playing, courtesy of Jack Benny and Liberace.

“Ensemble” can also refer to a set of furniture. If you’d like a little British-humor diversion, check out this video – Keeping Up Appearances – “Three-Piece Suite” – about the social-class perils of buying a new furniture ensemble.

“Ensemble” also refers to the group of supporting actors, dancers, and singers in a theatrical production. That is, the ones who hope the lead actors will get sick/get old/die so they can take over their roles.

For musicians, though, “ensemble” means how well a group plays together.

I remember as a small child having one of those lightbulb-over-the head moments on the way home from one of my siblings’ band concerts. I’m the youngest of three; my sister played clarinet and my brother French horn. So as a kid I got carted to their High School Band, All-City Band, All-Region Band, All-State Band, All-Planet Band etc. concerts. I went to football games to watch them march at halftime, enduring the cold and the hard concrete bleachers. In many ways it was worth it. All that exposure to music must have rubbed off. I guess I was about five when returning home from a concert, I had the epiphany that the sounds I’d been hearing – indeed the sound of most music – came from individuals playing their own instruments, together. That really blew my mind – that this big wall of sound was really a mosaic of individual sounds, coming together as if by magic.

It’s not really magic, I later discovered, but the result of hard work. As far as I can tell, good ensemble boils down to a few basic principles. These are some that I’ve learned over the years. What follows will be common knowledge to symphony colleagues, but perhaps of some interest to them and other readers.

Don’t Rush (as in, don’t speed up the tempo of the music). This is easier said than done. When the adrenaline gets going, we want to speed up. For some reason, we tend to rush difficult passages (maybe to get them over with faster?). This must be a basic human tendency. For example, when people are nervous about public speaking, they tend to speak too quickly. Younger players (older too) rush during staccato passages, coming in early during the spaces between the notes.

Don’t Drag (as in, don’t slow down or play behind the beat). Often this problem is a result of fatigue; the body slows down, and so does the music. Or there may be technical issues with playing something in tempo. I tend to drag more than rush. I’m a Slow Panda. Or maybe I’m too in love with the sound of the viola. Either way, it’s a challenge.

Don’t Come in Wrong. The rule of thumb I’ve always heard is: don’t be the first one in. If you’re about to play, but no one else in the section is, chances are you’re wrong. Then again, we can’t be timid, waiting for someone else to come in. Cues from the conductor can help but can’t be solely relied on. Conductors have more to do than cue every single entrance.

Don’t Get Lost. I didn’t really learn counting till I was a sophomore in High School. Our orchestra conductor was really a band conductor (didn’t know jack about strings) so we mostly would sight read new music. As the only violist, I had a crash course in counting, which was tough since I’d done Suzuki till then, a method that involves playing by ear. After that, I learned to internalize the beat, to the point that when listening to radio, I find myself counting 1-2-3-4. One trick when counting rests is to use your fingers: the thumb is 1, index finger is 2, etc. Musicians get very good at counting to 3 and 4 over and over again. Too bad this skill doesn’t help with taxes or balancing the checkbook.

Don’t Don’t Don’t – this is all so very negative. What are some positive principles of ensemble?

Watch section leaders. Usually, someone is a section leader, or principal player, or first chair (I prefer the term “His Great-and-Powerful Viola Eminence”) because they tend to be “right” more often than not. Right about entrances, bow style, dynamics, breathing, etc. Though not always. As the viola section will affirm, my radar goes out with some regularity. Concentrating from 7:30-10 can be tough when you’ve just worked 9 to 5. What a way to make a livin’, barely getting’ by, it’s all takin’ and no givin’… (especially when the CSU institutes furloughs – stupid recession.)

That reminds me, this summer I found a great video of Dolly Parton performing at the Oscars. If you’re Dolly, you don’t need an “ensemble,” just a big stage and a big wig:

Listen. It’s important not to get so wrapped up in your own part that you become oblivious to the others. One always has to know whom one is playing with, and try to fit in with them. This is especially a challenge for violists. I think of the viola section as the sluts of the orchestra. Metaphorically, of course. We’re as moral as any other section (though I plead the fifth on my 20s). What I mean is, violists get around. Since we’re an inner voice, we play at various times with all the different sections. Sometimes we’re with the violins, doubling a line. Sometimes we’re reinforcing the cellos. Sometimes we’re with the winds and brass and even percussion. A real pleasure of playing the viola comes from this variety. That, and the beautiful sound the instrument makes.

Lighten up. This is Mary James’s mantra. When in doubt, lighten up. Don’t bear down in the thorny parts. Lighten up and let it happen, and then you can listen better. Easier said than done, as we tend to play louder when under stress. Weird how the exact opposite of this tendency is the solution.

Have fun. Last season, I was pretty nervous about playing the Mahler. It’s a tough viola part in many ways. And, you know, it’s f-ing Mahler, so that’s intimidating. About half way through the first movement, I remember thinking to myself, “This is sounding good. You’re here playing great music with great people. Enjoy it.” I did, and it got easier, and I played better.

I’ve heard theories about how a musical ensemble becomes sort of like its own organism, everyone thinking, breathing, moving, counting, and emoting together. Perhaps this is why the opening of a piece is so difficult – the group hasn’t synched up yet. It’s sort of like a blind date – you start off tentatively, but hopefully find common ground and connection. When you do, the results can be spectacular. I guess in some ways it really is like magic.

Before getting too New Agey, I’ll end with this video spoof of the Bartok Viola Concerto. Wish I’d learned this version!

Best, DH

PS: Viola joke – what’s the difference between the first and last stand of the viola section? 1. Half a measure 2. A semi-tone.

Fun on Broadway: Shrek and West Side Story

It’s hard to believe that summer 2009 is drawing to a close, time for Pops and then the 2009-2010 season. Summer is fun, but a bit strange. No other season seems to be invested with so much meaning and expectation. For example, I never heard anyone say “have a great winter!” or “how was your fall?” Or “can you believe spring is almost over?”

One highlight of my summer was visiting New York to see my brother and his family. My 20-month-old niece Audrey certainly deserves her nickname: “Little Devil.” Look at all that red hair! As my sister-in-law Rebecca says, “Audrey has a lot of energy,” and that’s an understatement. She wakes up ready for action, stopping only for food and sleep. She loves to play and to color – and not just on paper – on tables, chairs, the refrigerator, other people, and on herself.

During this visit I saw two Broadway shows that also exist as movies (that was my lame attempt to tie this blog in with the Pops theme of movie music): Shrek the Musical and West Side Story. I thought I’d tell you a little bit about them and share some videos.

I saw Shrek with my seven-year-old niece Chloe. She thoroughly enjoyed it and so did I. The costumes and sets were impressive and the performances were solid. Tony winner Sutton Foster stole the show as Princess Fiona with her hilarious send-up of a typical Disney princess. Check out her singing and dancing in “Morning Person.” This song comes at the beginning of Act II, after Fiona has been liberated by Shrek and is full of hope for her upcoming marriage.

A lot of the music in Shrek isn’t terribly memorable, except for this number, “I Know It’s Today,” which serves as the introduction to Fiona’s character. Catchy tune -- Chloe and I were singing it for days. Using three actresses of different ages was really effective in setting up Fiona’s backstory and her frustration over not living a fairytale life.

If you’ve seen the Shrek movies, you know that most of their humor comes from in-jokes deconstructing fairytale clichés. In the stage version, though, these jokes often seemed forced and heavy-handed. The films’ message about accepting differences also seemed overly didactic and obvious when delivered through show-stopping song-and-dance. OK, enough carping; it was an overall enjoyable theater experience. Best seen with a seven-year-old. Even more so if she’s your niece or other close relative whom you love, sitting on your lap, so she can see better. Eating M&Ms helps, too.

After Shrek, my brother Paul and I saw the revival of West Side Story. Despite 90+ weather (New York in August), the house was packed. WSS is well known and beloved, so this version was deliberately trying to “make it new.” For example, the Sharks spoke in Spanish much of the time, and two songs (“I Feel Pretty” and “A Boy Like That”) were sung entirely in Spanish. The staging and acting emphasized the grittiness, violence, and sexuality of the story, undermining the sappiness and sentimentality that can creep in with songs like “Somewhere” and “Tonight” and “Maria.”

I saw the film version of WSS at the Fremont a while back, quite an experience, and then as now I was struck by how the ballads seem a bit dated, while the dance numbers, set to Bernstein’s music, still hold up.

One advantage of sitting in the cheap seats, as Paul and I did, is that you can see the dance routines from above, really appreciating their symmetry, geometry, and energy. The highlight of the show was “America,” led by Tony award winner Karen Olivo. Here she is performing the song with the cast on David Letterman.

See you soon for Pops! Looking forward to the Damon Castillo Band. Last time we backed up a band was Pink Martini, and that was a blast. Warm regards, DH

French Horns Rule!

Principal French Horn Jane Swanson posted this as a comment a while back, but I think it deserves to be in the "main" part of the blog:

"David writes about various ways musicians unwind after a performance. I offer a few comments about what some of us do to prepare for a performance.



Some orchestra members have probably observed over time that the horn section tends to do mini-problem-solving before, at breaks, and after rehearsals. What you wouldn't have a chance to observe is that for every concert, we also have one or two section rehearsals at one of our homes. Scheduling these is no small feat, but we find them very useful. We can hear each other better so that we get each others' parts in our ears and fine-tune lengths of notes, intonation and style. It is kind of magical how it boosts confidence.



I would also like to take this opportunity to thank each member of the horn section for her/his terrific teamwork. I am the main beneficiary, as the section helps me pace my chops and offers kindly words of wisdom when performance anxiety rears its unwelcome head. Larisa, Jennifer and Kelli have long felt like immediate family, and for the last two concerts with "heavy" horn parts, it has been very helpful to have Greg Magie on board as assistant first horn.



The Tuesday before our Mahler performance, Jennifer ( who is young) and I (not young) drove to Disney Hall to hear the Vienna Philharmonic perform Bruckner Sym. #9, getting back to SLO after 2 a.m. Nutty but very worthwhile! It was inspiring to hear Vienna's clean playing, perfect blend, and huge dynamic range. I do think it helped us to aim a bit higher as we approached the Mahler performance. Hopefully we can keep some of that inspiration alive for Beethoven in May!



Enough of what the horn section does! We really could not have any fun at all without the rest of the orchestra, so thanks to strings (devils included), winds, our brass friends ( and spouses of Larisa and Jennifer) across the way, and the percussion and keyboard sections for making the whole picture work!"

Blog Updates and Michael Jackson

Hi everyone, I hope the summer’s been fun and relaxing for you so far. The blog’s on a summer hiatus, but recently Patty Thayer and I attended a “webinar” (isn’t that a great word – means web seminar) on blogging called “Is Blogging Yesterday's News? No Way!: The Why and How of Blogging.” We were pleased to learn that a lot of what we should be doing, we’re already doing. What can I say, we rock. Nevertheless, we did pick up a few tips.

We’ve added a few features to the blog. You see to the left that you can now subscribe via email. Just click the link, follow the instructions, and you’ll have new blog entries delivered right to your email inbox. (Don’t worry about clutter – as you know, I only write about 2-3 blogs per month). At the bottom of the page, there are other options: adding the blog to Google Reader, following, etc. Also I’ve updated with links to a few other blogs of note (if you know of any others that would be good to link to, let me know).

In terms of content, I’ll keep writing about A-Z in the orchestra plus anything else that comes up. We’d also like to have some guest bloggers – perhaps we can encourage our soloists to write a bit, and if you would like to write something, that would be great. The more the merrier! If you have any ideas for the blog, please let me know.

As must be known by now, I have a serious YouTube addiction. Here are a few videos I’ve found recently that I thought you might enjoy. In honor of summer, here’s “Summer Nights” from Grease.

Following up on the webinar, I did some checking on the SLO Symphony’s online

presence and found this gem: our own Peggy Whitson, violist, teacher, TV star.

While I’m writing, I can’t not mention the biggest news in the music world we’ve had for some time: the death of Michael Jackson. You’re probably tired of the non-stop media coverage, so I won’t add more commentary. Except for a few things: when the video for “Thriller” premiered in 1983, I was 12. Even at that age I was aware that it was event television. I knew kids in junior high who wore the red jacket and one sequined glove to school. I was never a huge MJ fan: never bought his albums or attended a concert, but his music was all around, inescapable. I was talking about him with my 20-something viola student, whom I suspected of not remembering him in his prime, but she replied, “My older sister had a fan club! We would dance to his music at slumber parties.”

People have spoken at length of MJ as groundbreaking, a trailblazer, crossing boundaries. Here are a few videos that speak to his influence on young classically trained musicians. First is a violinist.

This version of “Billie Jean” for cello quartet (same guy on all parts) is pretty awesome.

This is not for faint of heart: an electric violinist improvising on “Billie Jean” in a subway tunnel.

This guy is too much fun.

Here’s MJ himself.

Best, DH

Faces in the Orchestra: Wayne Asbury

Wayne Asbury has played oboe and English horn in the Symphony since the 1975-76 Season, joining for the January concert. In the fall of 1975 he played for West Side Story at P.C.P.A. He had heard about (but never met) a great clarinetist in the San Luis Obispo Symphony named Virginia Wright, and she happened to be playing for the same job. Not long after that, Wayne got a call from Clif Swanson, asking if he would like to play in the SLO Symphony. Clif had learned of Wayne through Virginia, and he had also heard Wayne perform in the Santa Maria Symphony, with which Clif also played.

So Wayne began his drives from Lompoc to San Luis Obispo to play with the orchestra. There he met Alice McGonigal, Virginia Wright (again), and Diana Sheridan. Diana had also just been recruited to the orchestra and Alice had joined at the beginning of that season. They have been the core of the woodwind section ever since.

Wayne’s favorite memories of the symphony include the trips to Spain and Carnegie Hall: “What great trips!” Most memorable was the Carnegie Hall concert. As Wayne says, “I will treasure that experience for a lifetime.”

On his time with the Symphony, Wayne says, “The Symphony has been a part of my life for thirty-four years. The people of the orchestra are my second family. We share our music and our stories. I hope the ride will continue. I am sure we will continue to play great music with great soloists!”

Piccolos at Pops!

Sandi Sigurdson was the lucky baton winner at Pops by the Sea 2004! You can see Sandi on the right with the dreadlocks (yikes!) The colorful, and patriotic piccolo players are (from left): Bonnie Richan, Alice McGonigal and Martha Uhey.

Scroll down the page just a bit and you can view Martha's musings on her many years with the Symphony. And below that, you'll find Alice's thoughts on her time with the orchestra. Your turn next, Bonnie!

By the way, you can read through ALL of our Symphony blogs by using the links on the left to pull up different posts. Or just keep scrolling down the page for all the 2008-2009 blog posts by David Hennessee. Feel free to leave a comment at any time - we'd love to hear from you!

Hope to see you at the Classics Finale Concert this Saturday, May 2nd!

Faces in the Orchestra: Martha Uhey

Martha Uhey (flute and piccolo) joined the orchestra in 1971, the same year that Clif Swanson became conductor. She had just graduated from UCLA with a degree in Music Composition. Her parents had moved to Los Osos from Los Angeles to open a piano store (Martha’s father was a piano tuner). He set up an appointment for Martha to meet Clif. At the time, Clif was starting the Mozart Festival, and he mentioned that there was a Symphony, but he wasn’t involved with it yet. Shortly thereafter, Clif called to tell Martha that he’d been asked to conduct the Symphony, and he invited her to be principal flutist. “And that was that!” as Martha says.

Life Before the PAC:
Muddy Pools and Close Calls

Martha faced some challenging situations in the days before the Performing Arts Center opened:
“Cuesta Auditorium in the rain: this was always treacherous, especially for the women of the orchestra! Once one made it across the muddy parking lot, this did not mean that one was “home free” so to speak, because there was the dreaded jump to the hall yet to complete! You see, there was a short stairway down into the backstage area, and at the bottom of the stairway was a landing that turned into a muddy pool during the rainy season. BUT . . . that was not all – there was no door handle on the outside of the very heavy double doors leading into the backstage, but rather a rope that one would hope happened to be caught between the doors. All one had to do was balance their instrument, music, gig bag, and (in the case of a female musician) gather up her skirt while in high heels, grab the rope which was 3 feet away across the muddy pool, and hope for the best. I am proud to say that I never fell into the pool, but I can honestly admit that I was thirty-five years younger then. I’m glad I’m no longer put to that test!”

Martha has had a couple of other close calls over the years.

One time, Helmuth Rilling was guest conducting, and due to a misunderstanding about the program order, as Martha remembers:

“Alice McGonigal and I thought we weren’t playing until the second half of this concert, so we were in the balcony of the church down in Pismo. There were many late patrons, so we decided to help the ushers seat people. The lights came down, the audience hushed, and Mike walked on stage and introduced Helmuth. And then he said, ‘And by the way, if there are two flute players in the audience, we could use them onstage.’ At that point, Alice and I started waving to the orchestra and assembled choirs on stage. I still remember the look on Gary Lamprecht’s face (he was singing that night). All of a sudden Alice and I got it – we were the flute players who were supposed to be onstage! You’ve never seen two grown women in floor-length tight skirts and high heels run so fast! We got to the back of the church panting, collapsing on the floor at Mike and Helmuth’s feet, apologizing profusely as we jammed our flutes together in the back hallway of the church, and then walking ‘calmly’ on stage to the clapping and laughing of the audience. What a way to start an all-Bach sacred choral music program!”

Martha also made it in under the gun for the Carnegie Hall concert, but fortunately she did so in time:

“I was warming my piccolo up backstage and had really waited too long to get onstage, so I was in a hurry! I remember coming through the backstage area as fast as I could without running and seeing Mike just off stage – and then I saw it: I stopped short and looked up . . . and up . . . and up – there were people all the way up to the top of the Hall – ‘We have an audience!’ I marveled. I was so excited just to be playing in Carnegie – that we had a huge, appreciative audience made the whole evening layer upon layer of magic. There was so much flash photography going on at the beginning of the concert that the ushers gave up trying to stop it (it’s usually strictly forbidden). It seems that our spunky Symphony from California playing the wonderful music of Craig Russell was a breath of fresh air.”

What to Wear for POPS: “A Hat or Something?”

Martha and the other flutists are well known for the inventive headgear they sport for the “Stars and Stripes Forever” piccolo soli at POPS concerts. Martha was relieved when the POPS concert found its home in Avila Beach:

“No more private ranches (as beautiful as those could be, my teeth were chattering at the last one when I was attempting to play). NO MORE Budweiser Stage at the Fair Grounds - that just didn't seem the right place for a symphony orchestra, and the stage was too small.”

Here’s how the colorful hats came to be a tradition:

“For a few years at the Fair Grounds the piccolos would stand up at the appropriate place in ‘Stars and Stripes,’ and Tony the Tuba [Tony Clements] would start playing our solo. We'd shake our fingers indignantly at him and sit down. That was the sum total of our shtick. One year Bonnie [Richan] called me and asked if we couldn't do something different - a hat or something? And that was the beginning of the POPS thematic piccolo garb. I was going to stop doing it after a few years, but people have told me that they look forward to seeing what we're going to do next. What started out as Uncle Sam hats has burgeoned into the Statue of Liberty, red-white-and-blue Carmen Mirandas, Hollywood starlets, 1-2-3's (with 5 foot headdresses), and hula girls. Two of us in the flute section have our storage sheds full of costumes. To me, the high point of this wonderful concert is the baton auction [the highest bidder gets to conduct ‘Stars and Stripes Forever’]. The story of why the baton has been purchased is always a moving one, and to be a part of it is very meaningful!”

A Poignant Memory

“When Dave Stade died, his empty chair was onstage for the concert and when Mike walked onstage, he put a bouquet of flowers on Dave’s chair. Dave was in the orchestra when I started – the orchestra meant everything to him and he was such an important part of it for years. Mike’s gesture was so poignant.”

Martha’s Thoughts on the Symphony: Past, Present, and Future

“I am still continually amazed at our orchestra. I remember the days when we couldn’t even play through a movement of a piece and when we had to wait until the weekend of the concert for the ‘ringers’ from out of town to fill the woodwind, brass, and string sections. There were pieces that Clif wouldn’t even attempt because we just weren’t able to play them. Now we can sight-read them with ease.

This orchestra is successful because of four incredible parts: talented dedicated musicians, a talented dedicated conductor, a talented dedicated staff, and a talented dedicated board. If any one of those parts were missing, our orchestra wouldn’t be the very special organization that it is. This has been true for years, and this is why we are where we are today.

With the talented leadership and community following that we have, there is no reason that this symphony shouldn’t thrive into the future. Our education programs are an important focus of our organization as are our No Ties Allowed dress rehearsals. When I am on stage I always feel that the audience cares so much about us – the feeling is mutual! That is something that I treasure – our relationship with our audience.”

Faces in the Orchestra: Alice McGonigal

Alice McGonigal has served as principal flute in the Symphony since September, 1975. Additionally, she plays piccolo, alto flute, bass flute, fife, Irish-folk flute, guitar (for Kinders at school), some viola and cello – plus singing, conducting and arranging. Here are some of Alice’s favorite memories of her thirty-four years with the Symphony.

In Which Alice Auditions (or, “Little San Luis Obispo Has a Symphony?”)
In 1975 Alice was living in Van Nuys, just beginning her Master’s degree in music at CSU Northridge (then San Fernando Valley State College), which she completed in 1979. During these years, Alice worked as a Music Librarian at CSU Northridge. She also performed actively with the North Wind Quintet (formerly the Northridge Woodwind Quintet) and was a frequent recitalist and session musician. Alice had a number of flute students in Santa Maria, so she commuted there twice a month. Sometimes she would stop by Hancock to consult Chris Kuzell’s MGG Encyclopedia (Chris worked at Hancock then and was concertmaster of the SLO Symphony). It was during one of those visits that Alice learned about an opening in the flute section of the orchestra.

“Chris and I were playing duets (flute/violin). Afterwards, he asked: ‘would you be interested in auditioning for the San Luis Obispo County Symphony?’ I answered, ‘little San Luis Obispo has a symphony? Wow! I didn’t know that. Sure! Is there an audition list?’ Chris said, ‘I don’t know. I’ll call the conductor Clif Swanson and ask. Do you know who Clif Swanson is?’ I replied, ‘No. Never heard of him.’”

At this point, Alice’s knowledge of San Luis Obispo and Cal Poly was limited. She knew that Cal Poly had a PE department and a swimming pool because she would sometimes ride with her older brother there to swim laps.

After a few days, Clif arranged to meet with Alice at Cal Poly within a day for her audition. Alice asked what she should play, and Clif replied, “whatever you have will be just fine.” Here’s the rest of the story in Alice’s words:

“I arrived at the time set by Clif. Well… Clif didn’t show up at the appointed time. I didn’t know what he looked like, so any fellow going into the music building could have been him. I figured he forgot or we had missed one another, so I waited twenty minutes (a standard wait time for college professors), then I started to walk to the parking lot when someone called out: ‘Are you Alice?’ I turned around and saw a tall man, and I said ‘Are you Clif Swanson?’ He said, ‘yes! I’m sorry I’m late.’ We went into the band room; I got my flute out and put my music on the stand.

As I was looking through my music, I saw that the music I was going to play wasn’t there. I was going to play the first movement of the J.S. Bach Flute Sonata in E plus the pieces I had just learned for an audition for the Denver Symphony the week before. Very embarrassed, I asked Clif, ‘what would you like to hear from my stack of music? The pieces I had prepared aren’t here, but I do have these Handel Sonatas with the bass line underneath the flute part.’ Clif all of a sudden walked away, took out a bow, and then got a double bass from one of the large, long cabinets in the room and proceeded to tune the bass to the piano. I then tuned to the piano and while I was tuning, Clif walks over and stands just slightly behind me. We started to play the Handel sonatas together. We played for about forty-five minutes to an hour, then he put his bass away. I asked if he wanted to hear me play piccolo. He said no. Then he started to talk about the orchestra and what was available in the flute section as well as other sections and about the players of the Mozart Festival. He asked several questions about my music background. Then he told me that he had to hear one or two more flute players and then he would call me. I thought, ‘Is that it?’ He did say that he was pretty sure I would be first chair, but I wasn’t too convinced because I actually thought I was auditioning for second chair. He even talked about payment for the chair placement and funds for mileage. He wanted me to drive up from Van Nuys each week and not every other week. Two days later he called me again to confirm the principal flute position. I agreed to his offer. Now… almost thirty-five years later, I’m amazingly still principal flute in the San Luis Obispo Symphony.”

In Which Alice Reminisces

Alice writes of her time with the orchestra: “each year has a memorable moment.” Some that stand out: “Of course the trip to Spain and me cracking a whip I bought in El Escorial. The trip to Carnegie Hall and to George Washington University with my younger brother tagging along. And I can’t forget the Australia trip with me catching a sick bug on the plane to Sydney and being sick for the rest of the trip! Ugh. The Walt Disney Hall was great and some of my colleagues in Los Angeles had a chance to hear me play in the orchestra.”

However, according to Alice, “what comes to mind is the unexpected.” Picture it: the Cal Poly band room packed with enough musicians to play a Brahms symphony. Clif is conducting, and Alice is playing flute. At one point the entire orchestra – strings, winds, brass, percussion – were playing such loud chords that the vibrations in the room actually shook Alice’s music off the stand. It was sheet music, so the pages fell every which way.

In Which Alice Further Reminisces (or, a Slip-Up)

Sometimes I envy women who play in orchestras: they don’t have to perform in bulky, hot tuxedos. Even at the “no-ties-allowed” dress rehearsals, I catch myself, out of habit, reaching up to straighten my tie when taking a bow. When I got my first tux at fifteen, I had a devil of a time keeping the cummerbund in place. It tended to slip down and look not unlike a loincloth. Still, as this story of Alice’s shows, ladies can face wardrobe “slips” of their own. Here’s a “blog-exclusive”:

“The scene: the orchestra was playing a Beethoven symphony. During the first movement, I felt my slip rising up and my concert dress bunching up. So, I reseated myself during the next few bars of rest. Boy, was that a mistake! The slip contracted up around my waist and (just in time) I grabbed my skirt to keep it from following the slip. I realized I had brought the wrong slip when leaving home with my change of clothes. For the whole first half of the concert, I was trying to keep that slip down. Finally the intermission came and I had to walk very slowly offstage and into the ladies room to remove the slip, taking very small steps, like a Geisha girl. My skirt was very black, but rather thin – like something Madonna would wear! So for the second half of the concert, I had my black coat hanging on my chair and wore that to get on and offstage.”

In Which Alice Sums It Up
“Over the past thirty-four years, I have experienced two conductors, a few guest conductors, and performed in several venues: the old Cuesta theater, the church in Pismo Beach, the Pop’s Concerts in Paso Robles and now Avila Beach, and of course the new Performing Arts Center at Cal Poly. I’ve had the chance to perform chamber music with guest artists, and even solo myself with the orchestra. I’ve seen the orchestra grow from a small chamber orchestra to a healthy Beethoven/Brahms-size orchestra. I feel very fortunate to still be in the orchestra even after having a stroke in January 2007 -- I was back playing with the group in the May concert of that same year."

"I truly feel lucky to be part of this group of people who love to play music and are members of this orchestra called the San Luis Obispo Symphony. I love this music family. Blessings to you all!”

Beethoven's Fifth, a New Mahler Glossary and Zuill Rocks!

How nice to play Beethoven 5 on one’s birthday, not to mention have “Happy Birthday” played for one by the orchestra! A real treat after a day of individual conferences with writing students, repeatedly saying things like “Yes, ‘there’ ‘they’re’ and ‘their’ actually are different words,” and “No, I don’t think you can safely cite ‘personal opinion’ as evidence for the claim that ‘most Americans are going bankrupt right now’” – you get the idea.

Here are a couple tokens of gratitude...

Linda Ashworth sent the first along. I wish we’d had this for the last concert! “Mit Parodie” is my favorite.

A New Mahler glossary
Langsam = Slowly
Schleppend = Slowly
Dampfer auf = Slowly
Mit Dampfer = Slowly
Allmahlich in das Hauptzeitmass ubergehen = do not look at conductor
Im Anfang sehr gemaechlich = in intense inner torment
Alle Betonunger sehr zart = with more intense inner torment
Getheilt = out of tune
Von hier an in sehr allmaehlicher aber stetiger Steigerung bis zum Zeichen = From this point on, the spit valves should be emptied with ever-increasing emotion
Hier ist ein frisches belebtes Zeitmass eingetreten = Slowly
Hapttempo = Slowly
Noch ein wenig bechleunigend = slowing down with a sense of speeding up
immer noch zuruckhaltend = with steadily decreasing competence
sehr gemaechlich = With indescribably horrific inner torment
Etwas bewegter, aber immer noch ruhig = Somewhat louder, though more inaudible than before
Gemaechlich = Intermission
Ganz unmerklich etwas zuruckhaltend = Slowly
Etwas gemaechlicher als zuvor = Slowly
Zurueckhaltend = Gesundheit
Von hier ab unmerklich breiter werden = As if wild animals were gnawing on your liver
Ohne cresc. = Without toothpaste
Immer noch zurueckhaltend = slowly
Allmaehlich etwas lebhafter = Screaming in agony
Ohne Nachschlag = Without milk
Kraeftig bewegt = Slowly
Alle = Second violins tacet
Mit dem Holze zu streichen = like a hole in the head
mit Parodie = Viola solo
sehr einfach und schlicht = Slowly
Daempfer ab = eyes closed
Den ersten Ton scharf herausgegeben = Do not play until buzzer sounds
Am Griffbrett = As if in tune
Aeusserst zart aber ausdrucksvoll = Radiantly joyful despite the itching
Wieder zurueckhaltend = Increasingly decreasing
Noch breiter als vorher = Better late than never
Nicht eilen = No eels
Allmaelich (unmerklich) etwas zuruckhaltend = Much faster (slower) than conductor
Lang gestrichen = Heads Up
Lang gezogen = Heads down

Tracy Sparks found this one. It’s Zuill Bailey performing the last part of the Tchaikovsky “Rococo Variations” at the February dress rehearsal. wow...



Best, DH

(And yes, I do sometimes get carded, though mostly by very old checkers with thick glasses and senile dementia.)

Faces in the Orchestra

When I interviewed Michael Nowak for Moebius over a year ago (the interview that’s been serialized for “Classics in the Cohan” programs this season), we had a brief conversation about moving around, living in one place versus several, etc. I remarked that even after six years, I still felt “new to the area.” Mike replied, “yeah, six years; you’re still new.”

I’ve led a fairly peripatetic life (nine locations), but in thinking about it, I saw that I haven’t always been so keen to move around. For example, in Seattle, I lived in the same apartment for eight years. (I loved that place!) I realized that perhaps I’ve been following Holly Golightly’s advice: when you find a place where you and things go together, buy some furniture and give the cat a name.

Many members of the SLO Symphony must have come to this same realization at some point in the past. So, on the suggestion of Quin Hauss, and as a corollary to Mike’s twenty-fifth anniversary, the blog will feature a series of profiles honoring Symphony members who’ve played with the orchestra for twenty-five years or more. First up: Barbara Blanke and Pat Lamprecht.

Barbara Blanke
Barbara’s primary instrument is violin, though she also plays guitar and piano, mostly for children. She joined the Symphony in 1982 after a neighbor brought over the Tribune to show her a two-line advertisement with audition information.

Barbara recalls those days:

“I had lived in SLO for one and 1/2 years and did not know there was a symphony. I had played in the Bay Area for the San Jose Light Opera and various community groups and really missed not having a musical home in SLO.”

Barbara has “so many!” fond memories of her time with the orchestra, and here are just a few: “Michael's audition was so memorable! Since I was a music major and loved conducting, his style and energy was awesome.” She enjoyed being on the Symphony Board for three years as the orchestra representative, and she also loved “assisting with the start up and initial research for Everyday Etudes,” describing the experience as “so much fun to be a part of.” Barbara holds out “hope that there will be classical music lovers in our future.”

Here’s the Everyday Etudes video, in which Barbara is featured:



Barbara describes the Carnegie Hall and Australia tours as “incredible.” On Carnegie Hall: “We played and then embarked on a midnight cruise around the New York skyline. As we circled the Statue of Liberty about thirty of us out on the ‘cold’ bow of the boat simultaneously broke into song, ‘God Bless America.’ This still gives me chills thinking about that night!” On Sydney: “I loved going to the zoo with Mike, Suzette and Julia and other orchestra friends in Australia. Any time to have real-life time with my musician friends on a different level is what life is all about!”

Barbara is optimistic about the future of the Symphony: “We are so lucky to have Sandi and the incredible, incredible staff at the Symphony office. They are what keeps the heart beating and they do it with such a flair!”

She also has some advice on how to keep music alive in our community: “If all musicians commit to give time and/or money and believe in the music that we all love, the symphony will thrive. Build relationships and give anything you can and classical music will be an important part of San Luis Obispo forever!”

The picture posted above is of Barbara and her husband Dan on the day of her doctoral defense.

Pat Lamprecht
Pat is a longtime member of the viola section, and she also performs in the alto section of the Vocal Arts Ensemble, directed by her husband Gary.

Pat recalls her early days with the Symphony:

“I joined the symphony viola section in 1972 as a newlywed. Clif Swanson was the director at that time and we performed at the old Cuesta Auditorium. The members of the orchestra were very kind to both Gary and me and made us feel very welcome to this community after we had left the Los Angeles area. I have played with the orchestra most of the years since then, only taking time off to have babies, for the most part.”

Ed Lowman was the orchestra manager during this time, and he called Pat to play viola only after she’d had time to recover from having her twins, Amber and Carey, and later, son Darby.

Pat recalls some fun times commuting: “Ed Harris (who still plays bass in the symphony) and I would carpool to rehearsal from Cayucos in his huge Buick -- top down, lots of chrome and gigantic fins -- what a ride!”

Pat sums up her experience with the SLO Symphony: “It has been great pleasure for me to have had both of my daughters (violin and oboe) and husband (rookie percussion) play in the orchestra with me at various times over the years. I know that our symphony will continue to grow and flourish, even in uncertain economic times. I am thankful for the gift of music I receive each time I am allowed to be a part of our symphony. There is no better seat in the hall than where the violas sit.”

And there’s no better seat onstage than the one next to Pat Lamprecht.

Stay tuned for more profiles.
Best, DH