Shopping for a music school Part VI - Grad School

Most of the issues that music students face when applying to graduate school are the same ones that undergraduate students face - researching teachers, figuring out what you want from the programs, learning about ensembles at the various schools, etc. But there are some issues that are more unique to grad school applicants, and certainly some issues are far more important to grads than to undergrads. I'm going to create four "case study" grad music school applicants to look at the different issues that they bring up. All of these categories of grad applicants are based on the grad school applicants that we often see at Peabody, as well as on my own student experiences and the experiences of others I've met over the years.

#1: Plugging the Holes

This grad applicant has usually attended a solid undergraduate program and has a good grasp of most technical basics. He or she has also done a pretty good amount of playing over the years in his school ensembles, as well as probably participating in some summer music festivals. However, #1 may have a couple of technique issues holding them back from being ready for professional work. Perhaps they don't feel they've ever mastered their spiccato bowstrokes, or maybe they have difficulty controlling their vibrato. For this applicant, they need to focus first of all on finding the right teacher that can help them work through these issues, and then help them incorporate these changes into their solos and excerpts. It's probably not as important that they be at a school with a great orchestra program, or lots of fascinating music academics (see more on this below). Their two years at grad school will be very teacher-focused, so that should be their emphasis.

#2: Liberal Arts Convert

Applicant #2 went through a liberal arts program, planning to do their music on the side as a hobby, or perhaps as a minor. But at some point, they got bitten by the music bug and decided they wanted to switch to a music focus. Perhaps they did in fact switch majors, or perhaps they finished their original major choice while practicing more on the side. Their playing may be quite strong, and their commitment to music ensures that they will keep strengthening their technique. What they need more is the chance to work with a good ensemble and/or chamber music program, and also that they have opportunities to get some good music theory/history classes in. While they of course will seek a strong teacher, they should probably put extra emphasis on looking into the playing opportunities that they will have at various schools.

#3: On the Circuit

This applicant pretty much has it together professionally: good training, good ensemble experience, and good orchestral audition prep work. They are looking for an environment that will support them as they take orchestral auditions. They need a teacher who can be a great audition coach - a teaching skill that is very different from the skill set you need to work on more basic technique. Some teachers have both of these skills, while others are stronger in one or the other. They also need a school program that will not place a lot of demands on their time so that they will be able to practice, go to auditions, and hopefully seek professional freelance work to pay the bills. They should also consider school location carefully - flying to auditions in expensive and unpleasant, and choosing a school in the Midwest or on the East Coast will place them within driving distance of a lot more professional orchestras.


#4: Playing Catch-Up

Perhaps this applicant wasn't at a very strong undergrad music progam. Perhaps they just slacked off a lot in school. Perhaps their progress was hindered by illness, injury, or personal problems. For whatever reason, they may be arriving at their grad school application process lacking some core technical elements, or needing more ensemble experience. This person needs to first make sure that whatever issues were holding them back in undergrad are worked out before they go to grad school. They don't have the option of wasting time in grad school - they will need to hit the ground running and work hard to make it. They need to do what applicant #1 did, but on steroids - finding a teacher who can give their technique and musical knowledge a full-body workout, and making up for lost time in acquiring ensemble experience.



While of course no student will match any of these categories perfectly, many will find similarities with their experiences. Consider what you really need grad school for and make sure that you have as good a chance as possible to get what you need.

Now, for some general thoughts. Money is usually a stronger issue for grads than undergrads. Parents are often not able to help with graduate school tuition, and students already carrying loans from undergrad don't want to add on even more debt. Besides the standard strategies on getting financial aid, look for schools that are located in places with relatively low costs of living, and research what the gigging opportunities are for you, especially what sort of driving you might have to do to get to those gigs. Gigging can be relatively lucrative, but not if you're spending all your time (time that you should be practicing) driving to gigs in traffic!

Another way to reduce costs and increase your available work time is to look into programs with minimal academic requirements. Many schools - Peabody is one of them - offer some type of degree that offers all the performance requirements of a Masters' degree with few or no academics. This degree is usually cheaper and, for an applicant who doesn't have a strong need or desire for more academic work, can be a great way to get the teaching and ensemble work you need. Peabody's degree is called the Graduate Performance Diploma, but at other schools the name is different; be careful not to confuse this type of degree with an Artist Diploma, which is usually very competitive and oriented towards those contemplating solo careers.

Finally, consider whether grad school is really the right thing for you. If you can find a way to get high-quality teaching on a private basis, you might be better off freelancing - or even working at a non-music job - and practicing independently. This option certainly isn't for everyone, and you shouldn't undertake it if you're not extremely motivated and able to work independently.

Shopping for a Music School, Part V: The Culture

Around this time I like to point readers to the series I wrote about looking at music schools - the various parts are here, here, here, and here. Many seniors in high school and college are looking at their school choices and planning research trips around now, and hopefully some of the ideas I mention in these articles might help.

Upon rereading the series, I've decided to add some new chapters this Fall touching on some other topics related to choosing a school. I'll be doing a chapter especially for grad school applicants later on this month, and one on taking school auditions as well. Here are some thoughts on a mysterious and hard-to-define thing: the culture of a music school.

Any institution as large and long-lasting as a music school develops a culture - a shared set of attitudes and beliefs - that last and are transmitted through the students, faculty and staff of the school. Within that culture are all sorts of subcultures that interact with each other in various ways. Peabody has a culture. Orchestral instrumentalists at Peabody have a subculture. Bassists at Peabody have another subculture. The same is true of every conservatory and music school. That culture colors and effects the experience of students in various ways. In a school with a culture of competition between students, those who thrive on striving to do better than their colleagues do well. Students who thrive in a more collaborative environment may feel isolated and stressed. In a school with an inward-looking culture, students with a strong need for community and continuity will excel, while those needing lots of stimulation and input from the outside world will be frustrated.

What makes up the culture of a music school? Some answers include:

- The personalities and beliefs of its teachers
- The culture of the place where it is physically located
- The history and famous graduates of the school
- The physical characteristics of the campus
- The cultural origins and socioeconomic backgrounds of the students

The degree of importance given to these (and other) categories for each school depends on an impossible-to-define blend of history, choice, and dumb luck. Defining the culture of an institution is a tricky thing, and of course no school or group of people can be simplistically labeled or pigeonholed; every school has people and attitudes of all sorts. And I'm sure that some would argue that even trying to define or discuss these matters is useless and counterproductive. But I feel that trying to understand the basic tendencies of a particular music school can help you consider whether that place would be a good fit for you.

Here are some elements that are often part of music school cultures. You can use them as yardsticks to consider elements of the schools you are looking at. Some of them are offered with more than a little tongue-in-cheekiness.

Community: Do students value their social time together? In some schools, the music students (or bass students in particular) socialize and hang out together outside of classes and practice time; in others, students' social lives may rotate around a wider circle of friends and acquaintances. Some students want the chance to mix with a wide group of friends, while others love the intensity of friendships that can be formed among a smaller group of dedicated fellow musicians.

Competition: Do students feel that they are competing with each other to be the best in the school, or that they are each helping the other to achieve their own personal best? Are there particular venues of competition - juries, concerto competitions, orchestra seatings - where the students focus their competitive fire? Competition is a big part of life as a professional musician, and any school worth attending is going to have chances for students to compete against each other. But for many students, too much competition can be anxiety-producing and counter-productive.

Tradition: Does the school emphasize that its students are joining a great ongoing tradition, or does it focus on how students will impact the future of music? Some students feel pride and belonging in joining a historic tradition, while others enjoy a culture more focused on change and innovation.

Teacher as Mentor/Teacher as Advisor: Do students see their teachers more as mentors to revere and study, or more as advisors or even co-collaborators in their learning? Some students thrive in an atmosphere where the boundary between teacher and student is more sharply and traditionally defined. Others prefer a culture where they can have a more relaxed atmosphere of dialogue with their teachers.

Nerdiness: Let's face it, some of us are just bigger music nerds than others. Hopefully you are at least somewhat music nerdy - you're applying to music school, after all - but maybe you're not as hard-core as that guy in your youth orchestra who literally stays up until 2:30 am listening to bass soloists on YouTube. Some people love an environment entirely focused on their instrument and it's every minutia, while others want to take time off from music nerdiness now and then.

Partyosity: This is of course related to Nerdiness, but certainly isn't always correlative - some of the nerdiest music schools are also big party schools. The key here is not only whether you like to party, but rather how the partying affects the musical life at the school. Some schools have a "work hard play hard" culture where intense partying coexists with intense work. At others, the partying may end up interfering with your musical efforts.

This is of course not an exhaustive list, and it bears repeating that no school is black and white on any of these cultural traits - indeed, people at the school may disagree passionately amongst themselves about whether or not their school has any of these characteristics. Still, it's worth asking students and faculty at the various schools that you are considering about these cultural traits and seeing if their answers tend to match up or not. If they do, it can provide you with some interesting and informative data for your school research. In this area in particular, I recommend not taking any one person's views too strongly. People's attitudes about a place can change over time and be affected by their mood or by minor events. Try to get as large a group of opinions about the school as you can, and then take the average of the opinions you've collected to get an overall sense of things.


No one wants to spend years in an environment that may be stressful to them or that works against their own best path to musical growth. Learning about the culture of a school can give you a sense of what your life might really be like at that school that no amount of glossy brochures from the admissions office can ever reveal.

Know Your Brand

I am a hopeless political junkie, and especially in this election season, I manage to waste astonishingly large amounts of time reading a huge array of political blogs and websites. I pore over polls, read analyses and insider reports, and watch video clips of candidates and pundits. (What can I say? I guess living in DC gets to you after awhile.) Beyond just following the latest news and horse race data, I'm always trying to understand how the "average" voter, if there is such a thing anymore, thinks about politics and elections. I have already figured out that I am an atypical voter - very interested in politics, and generally much more informed about the issues and candidates than most. Because of this, I often feel like I can't understand why the parties and candidates make the choices they make. "Why is Bush saying that? Hasn't everyone seen that clip from the last Judiciary Committee session?", I think. The answer, of course, is that he's not speaking to me and the other 25 nerds who were checking C-SPAN last week. He's speaking to the folks out there who spend very little time following politics, and whose political views are often heavily influenced by the brief soundbites they catch on the TV news.



One thing that political strategists often discuss is brands and branding. In our consumerist society, every candidate and political party is a product, sold in the same way that cars and computers are. A political brand is a gut sense of the basic characteristics and style of a candidate or party, and is a stronger indication of how a voter will behave than are the actual views of the voter on the issues of the day. People have political brand loyalty: A young person who votes Democratic in two elections in a row is very likely to remain loyal to the Democratic "brand" for most of their life. Brand identity can change over time, but only very gradually as events conspire to create a new narrative associated with that brand: some pollsters argue that more and more voters today associate Democrats with fiscal responsibility, certainly a change of brand for the "tax-and-spend" party of old.



There is an analogy here to our playing (you knew there had to be one, right? Why else would I post this?). We each have a "brand" to our playing - a basic set of sound and style characteristics that hold true through everything we play. That brand is created from our core technique elements, the influence of our most important teachers and mentors, and our most basic musical preferences. I make the type of sound that I do on the bass because at some level I like it - it feels right to me, for reasons that I honestly can't even define exactly. It developed through my early years of study and my student days. Even as I have developed a more diverse palette of tone colors and styles in my playing, I still keep one foot (or at least a toe) in this core sound concept that I bring to my musical work.



Most successful politicians are able to connect to voters because they are true to their branding and they believe in and like it. John Kerry was not trusted by many voters because they didn't believe that the brand he was being sold as (tough-guy war hero) was the brand they were hearing when he spoke to them (nerdy policy wonk). Likewise, when we try to play in a way that is too far from our brand - too different from the core sound we like and believe in - we can come across as not "solid" or "consistent" in our performance.



Our brand can change over time. When we hear a performance that deeply affects us, we may incorporate elements of it into our own playing, and as we become more comfortable with those changes, we gradually "own" them, incorporating them into our brand of sound. When I first heard cellist Anner Bylsma, I was transfixed by his musicality and sound concept in his performances of the Bach suites. I feel that my "brand" of Bach playing has changed as a result, although I still don't play Bach exactly like him - that would have been more rebranding than I was comfortable with. But there has definitely been an effect.

Our brand can change over time, and if you are a student player just starting out, you may not even fully know or understand your brand of playing yet. You may not yet have the technique to fully realize the sound that you want. You may still be experimenting with your sound and style. But over time, each of us has to accept and learn to "sell" what truly moves us as musicians.



This is NOT to say that we should adjust our sound and style to the music that we are playing, or that we should play everything the same way! Successful politicians have to sell all sorts of ideas to all sorts of people, and they switch up their style to suit. But in the end, they always come back to their core brand. Likewise, we have to make musical choices that are informed by the history and style of the music we are playing, and by the style and temperament of those whom we are playing with. But if we are always trying to play in a way that we don't really believe in, it will be hard for us to "sell" our performance to the listener.



When talented students who are preparing for orchestral auditions come to me, I often end up addressing this topic. These players usually have great technique, and have studied the excerpts carefully. They know just what is involved in the preparation of every part of the audition. They may have already made it to the finals of many auditions. They are looking for the final ingredient to push themselves to the top and win an orchestra job. In many cases, that ingredient is making sure their playing doesn't veer too far away from their core style and sound. Sometimes players will hear that a particular orchestra likes a certain sound - that they are a "ballsy" orchestra, or a "chamber-music-ey" bass section. They will then try so hard to change their playing to match that concept of sound that they end up losing their brand - the very thing that makes their playing distinctive and enjoyable. I encourage these players to dial back these changes and instead focus on authentically selling what they are about as musicians. In the end, I feel that an audition committee will always be more sold on a sincere presentation of one's core brand than they will by someone trying to sell a playing style that isn't coming naturally from them.

PBDB Book Review Dept.: Sound in Motion

Sound in Motion: A Performer's Guide to Greater Musical Expression. By David McGill. Indiana University Press.

Having introduced everybody to the influential and important American pedagogue and oboist Marcel Tabuteau in my last book review, I thought I should review a couple of the books that focus on his teaching and playing methods. Certainly one of the most informative and entertaining of these is “Sound in Motion,” by Chicago Symphony principal bassoonist David McGill. While not a student of Tabuteau himself, he is a Curtis grad who was exposed to Tabuteau’s methods through his own teacher, Tabuteau student John de Lancie, and through his general influence in the Curtis and Philadelphia communities. The book is a well-written and opinionated treatise on almost every aspect of the art of musicianship, taking as its basis the methods of Tabuteau, but moving well beyond into discussions of auditioning, intonation, and an extended section on the Baroque performance movement.

His discussion of the Tabuteau system takes up the first half of the book, and is definitely the most approachable of any I’ve read. He organizes the chapters of this section around core musical concepts - rhythm, harmony, motive, and musical function - showing how Tabuteau’s concepts can help organize and structure each facet of musical analysis. His frequent and clearly organized musical examples are especially effective in showing the many ways that Tabuteau’s system and clarify the musical structure of any line. He shows both idealized examples that work perfectly in the Tabuteau system and real-world excerpts that show that no perfect, all-encompassing “rules” can ever completely define how to approach musicality.

In the second half of the book, he moves gradually away from Tabuteau and into his own views on a vast array of musical topics. A section on specific issues of woodwind playing then moves into a long section headed, appropriately, “Controversy.” In this section he lays out his views on vibrato, tone, intonation, ornamentation, and engages in a long discussion on Baroque performance practice. Without going too extensively into his views on any one of these topics, I would characterize his overall musical worldview as conservative in character and evolutionary in outlook. He idolizes the style of the early- and mid-20th Century Romantic master performers such as Fritz Kreisler and Maria Callas, and has a dim view of most, if not all, of the Baroque performance movement. He makes many valid points about some of the more dogmatic and thoughtless exponents of Baroque style, but in my opinion goes way too far in his criticism, often getting more than a little strident and polemical as he goes after even the very idea that performing on original instruments can be musically equivalent to performance on modern instruments, much less superior:

The baroque performance practice movement of the late twentieth century resurrected many of the original instruments used centuries ago. It is interesting to hear what these extinct instruments sound like with modern players... It can also show us quite clearly why these instruments were improved.

Note the use of the words “extinct” and “improved.”

McGill’s is not an unusual view among many musicians, and few can deny that the rich tradition of performers like Callas and Kreisler are priceless resources for us all to draw from as performers. McGill seems reluctant to consider that the alternate styles that come from Baroque instruments - that indeed come from the very nature of these instruments - can be as enriching and profound in their way as more Romantic styles can be in theirs. He is clearly an intelligent person and a strong advocate for his position, but I come away from the second half of his book with the feeling that he views the evolution of ideas of phrasing and musical expression that differ with the late-Romantic styles of Tabuteau and Callas as distasteful, unnecessary and even dangerous to music. From the section on his recommended listening:

When I tell people about the recordings of the musical artists whom I most admire, I am often met with the question: “Yes, but who do you like who’s alive?” It is disconcerting to hear this question because I believe that, through their recordings, the great performers of the past are as alive today as they ever were.... Their greatness is not related to fad or fashion. It is timeless....

McGill sees an evolution of musical ideas through history (peaking with artists of the early and mid- twentieth century) that, in an almost Darwinian way, led to “better and better” musicality. However, this approach neglects the role of culture and society in musical style, and can turn changes or developments in style - which are real and important - into “improvements” that mean that what came before is by definition inferior.

I cannot recommend this book enough. It has been some time since I have seen any book on musical style and phrasing this good. While I encourage readers to seek out a variety of views on the topics he lists in his “Controversy” section, none of them should be a reason to turn down the opportunity to learn from Mr. McGill. Thought-provoking, well-organized, and well-written, his book is an invaluable resource for anyone who wants to seriously apply themselves to learning greater musicality. Indeed, McGill’s most important point throughout the book is that, by studying the structural elements of music, and by analyzing the core principles that guide great performers like Tabuteau, we can apply basic principles to our own phrasing that can dramatically improve our musicality. Interpretation is not primarily about “feeling” or “talent,” he writes, but about study, logic, and hard work:

Musical expression is not just the posession of the chosen few. By virtue of our innate intelligence and human capacity to express and feel our emotions, we are all born with the potential to be musically expressive... The real talent that leads to musical expression is intelligence. The development of expression is the development of the intellect.

This smart and inspiring book is one that any serious music student or performer should seek out and read.

Great classical music post - what is "elitism?"

I just read this post by Anthony McCarthy on the blog Echidne of the Snakes - a (lefty) political blog in general, but with some occasional fascinating bits of cultural commentary as well. I love what he has to say about the worst part of being a classical musician:

... there is, in fact, a snob audience for classical music who consider it their property, or at least their exclusive franchise. Anyone who has worked in classical music will have run into them. Some who aren’t musicians imagine that one of the greatest pleasures of being a musician, practicing, is the worst part of it. Actually, speaking for myself, it is the after concert reception that is the most brutal form of torture inflicted on musicians. The snobs who frequent and often are the reason for those events can be some of the most trying and obnoxious people in the world and you have to experience them at a time you are absolutely demolished by the experience of performance.

I have often experienced a similar sensation myself at various receptions. The difficult truth that musicians need to always deal with is that many classical music snobs in fact are the reason for the performance - at least financially. When you work in a business that is in perpetual financial crisis and is fueled by the donations of the (mostly) well-to-do, you literally can't afford to in any way alienate anyone who might be in a position to support your performances. And sometimes you get the feeling that what those supporters really enjoy, even more than the performance itself, is the chance to make you listen to how much better than others they are for having attended it. This is by no means the norm for me - most classical music supporters are sincere fans who love and support the art form in many ways, and they usually aren't snobs at all - on the contrary, some of the biggest financial supporters of my orchestra are some of the most down-to-earth and non-elitist people I know. But there are certainly snobs in the mix as well, amongst both donors and listeners to classical music.

Anyone who works in classical music, or who wants to, has to deal with the perception of many that our art form and our work is "elitist." By this they usually seem to mean that we (classical musicians and music lovers) feel that our music is inherently better than other forms, and that by listening to it we place ourselves in a superior cultural position over others. The mistake they make is in conflating complexity and elitism. Classical music is, generally speaking, more complex than most other forms of Western music, harmonically, rhythmically, and structurally. The only other Western musical genre that can equal it is jazz, another art form that is sometimes considered an "elite" taste. But far more important to refuting the elitist charge is to look at a crucial aspect of classical music that is absolutely equal to other forms of music: it can provide the listener or performer with intense emotional and/or even spiritual experiences. I think that the difference between a classical music snob and a classical music fan is that the fan doesn't imply that the emotions one experiences when listening to a Mahler song are any more or less valid than the emotions that one feels when listening to a Bob Dylan song, or a Madonna song for that matter. The fan may argue that the emotional world that the Schubert song can reveal is more rich and complex than the Madonna song, precisely because the musical materials being used are so much more rich and complex. But all music can transmit emotion and express ideas - I have had profound musical experiences while listening to pop songs, jazz sets, and operas. The snob tends to feel that the emotional experience of the Mahler is by definition better than the emotional experience of Madonna because the emotions produced by the Madonna song are "lesser" than the more "refined" emotions of the Mahler. By defining the music as base and common, they make the emotions it produces base and common. But emotions aren't high- or low-class. The experience I have while hearing a pop song I like is just as valid as the experience I have hearing Mahler 5th Symphony, even if one is very different from the other. Classical music elitism, like all elitism, is relativistic; it is obsessed with ensuring that classical music is defined by how much better it is than other types of music. I'm a fan; I just really, really love the stuff, think it reveals unique and important truths, and I want everyone else to have the chance to experience it.

So next time you find yourself at a post-concert reception with a musical elitist, try to respond with some fan spirit! Maybe you'll turn 'em into a fan. It's happened before....

PBDB Book Review Dept.: Marcel Tabuteau - How Do You Expect to Play the Oboe If You Can't Peel a Mushroom?

So who the heck is this guy? Why is this book worthy of any bassists' attention?

If you are interested in anything related to woodwind playing, string playing, phrasing, music education, orchestral performance, musicianship, the history of American orchestras, rhythm, sound, or the Curtis Institute, the name and teachings of Marcel Tabuteau are worth your attention. Marcel Tabuteau was one of the most influential figures in American music teaching from the 1920's until his death in 1966. As one of the founding teachers at the Curtis Institute, he trained generations of leading musicians. He was an oboe virtuoso in his own right and played in many of the great American orchestras, finishing with 49 years in the Philadelphia Orchestra under Stokowski and Ormandy; however, he was not only hugely influential as an oboe teacher. He also taught classes in woodwind and string ensemble work that resulted in his impacting almost every student at Curtis. His ideas of how to approach phrasing and rhythmic groupings are legendary. I've always been very interested in how great teachers approach the challenge on transmitting purely musical concepts of phrasing and musicianship to their students, and Tabuteau's ideas in this area have always piqued my interest.

I was first made aware of Tabuteau years ago through a friend of mine who attended Curtis and was later was a graduate student at Peabody. She wrote her dissertation on Tabuteau's influence on string players at Curtis and awakened an interest on my part in learning more about him. Unfortunately, at the time there wasn't a whole lot of material available that provided any primary source information on Tabuteau. Now, that situation has been corrected, and in spectacular fashion. Laila Storch, one of Tabuteau's only female students during his years at Curtis, has written a massive and surprisingly entertaining book examining Tabuteau's life and career. An intriguing mix of scholarly research, extensive interviews with musicians and family members in the U.S. and France, and Storch's own reminiscences and contacts with Tabuteau over many years, this book delivers a wealth of information on Tabuteau in a format that will intrigue both oboe scholars and musicians wanting to learn more about this amazing teacher and musician.

Storch covers the material relating to Tabuteau's childhood in France, his training at the Paris Conservatoire, and his arrival in the US mostly as a historian and researcher, since there are few friends or colleagues still alive from that time to provide much eyewitness information. But as soon as he arrives in America in 1905, the scholarly tone of the opening chapters slowly begins to mix with interview fragments and reminiscences from former colleagues, students, and friends of Tabuteau. by the time you reach the years when Storch was a student of Tabuteau's the book has transformed into a memoir, featuring reprints of the many years of (often hilarious) letters she wrote home to her parents while studying at Curtis. Then, as Storch graduates and moves on to professional oboe positions and a long teaching career, the book gradually morphs back into a primarily historical document. It's a difficult format to pull off, and the personal memoir material could very easily have been a cloying distraction from the main topic of the novel. (I greatly disliked Martin Goldsmith's book Inextinguishable Symphony for this very reason - his personal commentary on his parents' lives and how they affected him always seemed to intrude into and interrupt the narrative of their experiences as Jewish musicians in Nazi Germany.) Storch manages to mostly succeed where Goldsmith failed, using her personal story and the reminiscences of others to provide insight and revealing anecdotes about Tabuteau, rather than turning the reader's attention towards her.

In fact, Storch's letters home from school are my favorite portion of the book. They provide a first-hand window into the intense, "old-school" teaching environment cultivated by the largely European Curtis faculty, and are also interesting reminders of life during the war years, when rationing and the draft colored everyone's life (the only reason Storch was at Curtis was that there weren't enough available men to recruit due to the draft - she was literally the Rosie the Riveter of oboe!). All the students at Curtis in these early years recall being in constant terror of displeasing their teachers, and it is made clear to all of them that they have essentially no rights or boundaries as regards the faculty - Tabuteau makes his students get his dry cleaning and pick up his groceries.

And they also provide a reminder that there was a time when Curtis was a brand new school struggling to establish its reputation, rather than the eminence grise it is today. Interestingly, much of Tabuteau's teaching methodology came not from the great talent of the Curtis students he was working with, but rather from their often astonishing lack thereof! Tabuteau had to find a way to systematize the teaching of phrasing because there were so many Curtis students in need of his help.

The book is not specifically a textbook dedicated to explaining every detail of Tabuteau's teaching techniques, although it describes many elements of them. The book does include a bonus CD featuring a recording of Tabuteau at the end of his life, playing orchestral excerpts and discussing his musical ideas; it's very hard to discern what he's saying on this recording, but Storch helpfully includes a transcript in the book.

I heartily recommend this book to anyone wanting to encounter and learn from one of the great pedagogues of all time.

Welcome Back

Hi all - PBDB is slowly waking up from its summer semi-hiatus. We're putting some coffee on and getting some new posts set up for the new school year. We're gonna have a busy year at school, with a big and talented incoming class of freshmen and some good recitals and special events in the offing by both students and faculty. We'll be blogging all of that, plus whatever else may cross our minds. Coming up soon: some reviews of a few interesting music-related books I Read on My Summer Vacation. See you soon!