Hello everyone, this is David Hennessee. You may know me as principal violist in the Symphony. The Symphony started a blog last season, and this summer Patty Thayer asked if I’d be willing to maintain it. I thought about it. I already have a lot on my plate, but I decided to do it for two reasons. First, to be of service to the symphony, and second, it’s good stay in the habit of writing.I welcome suggestions for topics. I’m thinking of writing about music on upcoming concerts from a violist’s perspective (viola jokes included), doing profiles of orchestra members, and providing links to other online points of interest. Please let me know if you have other ideas for blog topics, as this blogging thing is new to me.
For this first entry, though, I will write about a sad topic -- not perhaps the best way to get started, but I feel must recognize this great lady. This summer, Patricia Tallman, a longtime member of the second violin section, passed away. Our first concert is dedicated to her. What follows is my tribute to Patricia. Please feel free to add your comments.
I first got to know Patricia in 2003. She and her fellow second violinist, Quin Haus, organized string quartets to perform at weddings and other events. I guess they had heard that I was an OK violist and had had experience playing wedding jobs. Since then, we have played a lot of gigs together. I will really miss Patricia and miss performing with her.
Before going on, let me give you some background on this kind of work – weddings, receptions, parties – where you’re basically playing background music. You get a call for a job, confirm, get an address (maybe directions) and a time, and a promised fee. Most groups don’t rehearse, or do so minimally. You show up, someone gives you a gig book containing light classical, not-very-difficult, crowd-pleasing music (e.g. Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, Pachelbel’s Canon, maybe some show tunes). Sometimes you’ll throw in some more challenging music to keep it interesting, but let’s face it, no one has ever wanted to hear a Bartok quartet at a wedding. Most of us who have done this sort of work have played the same pieces for years, and sometimes performed with the same musicians for years. For example, after seven years with the same group in Seattle, I had some of our repertoire memorized, which meant I could play and watch the wedding party have fun at the same time.
On the plus side, this kind of work pays well, and it’s fun, and a real honor, to be part of someone’s special day. Here in SLO county, weddings often are held on the coast or at wineries, so one gets to take in some beautiful scenery. Sometimes they let you graze the buffet. On the minus side, the weather may be too hot, too cold, too windy. And in truth, weddings are basically theatrical productions put on by amateurs. Things can go wrong, and often do. One issue that recurs (take note, potential brides and grooms) – some folks want separate pieces for the entrances of the groomsmen, the families, the bridesmaids, and the bride. This can be a logistical nightmare. Unless someone who can tell the difference between Bach and Handel is telling people when to enter, they will walk whenever they want. Then the quartet scrambles to keep up, and there are silences as people walk in, because at outdoor weddings (usually windy), changing pieces requires affixing a byzantine system of paper clips to keep the music on the stand. My advice: one piece for everyone to walk in. Pachelbel’s Canon is nice.
It’s in playing these kinds of jobs that I got to know and respect Patricia Tallman. I’ve been playing for these affairs for about 20 years, and in all that time, I never worked with anyone like Patricia. She was impressively thorough, detail-oriented, and organized. She’d ask about a date, I’d confirm. Then, regardless of how far off the job was, at the next symphony rehearsal, she’d have the gig books for me, in case I wanted to practice. Then I’d get a letter (snail mail, not email) with detailed directions, an even more detailed playlist, and other helpful information. These letters were invariably written in Patricia’s perfectly scripted handwriting. She’d remind me of the upcoming date at almost every rehearsal. The day of the event, Patricia always wanted to rehearse. We’d meet a few hours beforehand to go over the playlist and have a snack. This meeting was the most enjoyable part of the day, as we’d rehearse in someone’s home, where the temperature was regulated, there was no wind, and most importantly, we could really hear each other and enjoy making music together.
At the weddings themselves, Patricia was unflappable. She got everything organized; she knew exactly what was going on and when, and she led brilliantly. She never got flustered; she easily solved problems. If we didn’t have the right chairs, or an umbrella for an outdoor wedding, all it took was Patricia’s talking to the wedding coordinator and five minutes later these necessities would materialize.
It was always a pleasure to perform with Patricia. She was a very fine violinist: excellent intonation, rhythm, and expression – and one could tell she had not only practiced her part, but she knew the other parts, too. Most importantly for weddings, she knew when to start and stop playing. She’d always ask, "what’s the last thing the minister will say?" and after that we’d know when to play the recessional.
I think that Patricia was so detail-oriented about weddings because she really wanted our contributions to these events to be perfect. She was deeply religious and I imagine that she believed we were contributing to a ceremony that was sacred. After the ceremony, we’d review how it went. If something wasn’t quite right, I’d try to tell her that no one noticed (I doubt they ever did), but Patricia would never have it. She was a true perfectionist.
One of the first weddings we played together was at Ragged Point, up Highway 1 at the beginning of Big Sur. We carpooled from my place in Cayucos (where we, of course, had rehearsed). I felt nervous on that curvy road with its sharp drop-offs. Now, I grew up in Oklahoma. "The wind comes sweeping down the plain" there because that plain is totally flat, as are the roads: flat and straight. I learned to drive on those roads. Needless to say, on roads like Highway 1, I’m white-knuckling it. That was me this day, in the back seat, nauseated, white as a sheet. Meanwhile, Patricia is behind the wheel, happily buzzing around hairpin turns in her 50-foot-long Suburban, relaxed, chatting up a storm with Patty Manion and Drew van Duren. If I’d known Patricia better, I wouldn’t have been worried. She was, as always, totally in control.
Recently, several other Symphony musicians and I (Michelle Meyers, Quin Hauss, Tracy Sparks, Randy Garacci, Sharon Holland, and Sally Anderson) were honored to be asked to play at Patricia’s memorial service. It was wonderful to learn more about Patricia’s early life, her lifelong devotion to music, and to hear stories from so many who had been touched by her violin playing over the years. It was moving to hear the tributes given by friends and family. As someone who lost his father in 2004, my heart goes out to Patricia’s family.
Sandi Sigurdson spoke at the memorial, referring to Patricia as "a stalwart musician." On the tours to Carnegie Hall and Australia, she never complained about challenging travel situations. She was at every rehearsal and performance, ready to go. Based on my too-few years of knowing her and playing gigs with her, I can confirm that "stalwart" is the perfect adjective for Patricia. Stalwart in her religious beliefs, her love for friends and family, her attention to detail, and stalwart in her devotion to music. I think she knew that music is a path to God, and I’m honored to have walked that path with Patricia.
--DH
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