There was an op-ed in the New York Times today that I didn’t notice until just now. It was written by a former editor of the Wall Street Journal and founder of Condé Nast Portfolio magazine. It was a tribute to her former music teacher, a man by the name of Mr. K, who died recently. A concert was held in his memory in which all his former students returned to the stage one last time – no matter how rusty they were. It’s a beautifully written piece and I wanted to share it. Here’s the linky: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/opinion/28lipman.html
Reading it reminded me forcefully of my former music teacher (who as far as I know is still at it) Mrs. G. There are a whole ton of good memories of the orchestra rooms I spent so much of my childhood in. Some are good mostly in retrospect – like memories of Mrs. G waving a music stand threateningly over her head. At the time, terrifying. Through the veil of memory, quite comical. Others were hysterical when they happened – like the time she got so into directing a rehearsal that she accidentally flung her baton. It bounced off the nose of her assistant and piano player Mrs. E, leaving a little red mark.
I haven’t touched my viola in years. Not since I tried to play in the Skidmore orchestra and found that it just wasn’t the same. But what I wouldn’t give for the chance to return to Bloomington and play with the HYP one or two more times. Hey, maybe I’ll get the chance some day.
Anyway – reading this article brought tears to my eyes. I just wanted to share it.
