BSO Fellow - Tami Lee Hughes

It was a beautiful sunny morning in Baton Rouge.  

After a quick breakfast, I grabbed the few remaining items in my room and put them on the back seat of my car- my laptop, a few toiletries, and, of course, my violin.  When I finished loading, I shared hugs and “goodbyes” with my family before getting in the car and turning the key in the ignition.   I took a deep breath and said a prayer as I pulled out of the driveway.  This was a big day for me.  I was beginning a twenty-hour drive across the country to embark on the opportunity of a lifetime: to play with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra as its first Fellow.

Tami Lee Hughes - BSO Fellow

A little over one month later, I took a deep breath as I pulled out of my driveway in Owings Mills.  I was heading to my first rehearsal with the Baltimore Symphony. 

A million thoughts raced through my mind.  

Would I remember everything I practiced?  Would I be able to follow the conductor?  Would my sound blend with the orchestra?  When I walked onto the Meyerhoff stage thirty minutes later, I was overcome with emotion.  The hall is even more breathtaking from the stage than it is from the audience . . . the tiers of balcony cascading from the ceiling, the plush red velvet seats, and the beautiful wooden paneling onstage.  I paused for a moment to enjoy everything my eyes could see.

After tuning, we began rehearsing “The Golden Age of Black and White,” a program that featured classic tunes from the 1940’s and 1950’s with BSO SuperPops Conductor Jack Everly and vocalists Karen Murphy, Kristen Scott, and Chapter Six.  When Maestro Everly began the rehearsal, I knew I would love performing this concert.  His baton seemingly became a magic wand, transporting all of us to an age of black and white television, girl singers, doo-wop groups, swing and jazz tunes, and even early rock and roll.  I was captured by the music- the nostalgia, passion, energy, and warmth infused in rich luxurious melodies.  It reminded me of the music my grandmother played on the radio when I was young. 

On the night of our debut performance, I arrived at the hall a few hours early.  There was a buzz backstage as orchestra musicians, singers, stage technicians, and other staff members prepared for the performance.  Although I didn’t feel nervous, I was very excited.  I felt a swift rush of energy as Maestro Everly gave the opening downbeat.  With the audience lights dimmed, the stage came to life.  Lights, costumes, singers, and instrumentalists filled the stage with Maestro Everly  at the center of it all waving his magic wand.  By the time we played my favorite tune of the night, Mambo Italiano, we were in full swing!  The energy was so contagious I wanted to get out of my seat and dance.  For a brief moment I imagined I was in a fiery red dress doing the mambo in the streets of Sorrento.  A quick glance at the audience assured me that I was not the only one dreaming of dancing in Italy!

During my drive home after the concert, I reflected on the evening.  I thought about the sheer wonderment and joy of experiencing live music with everyone- musicians and audience members alike- and of indulging in an era in which I didn’t live but one that held special memories for so many concert goers.  I also thought about how much my life had changed so much since I’d left Baton Rouge. . . there are new faces, new places and new friends.  I sang bits and pieces of the music we’d performed as I got out of the car and opened the door to my home.   

So far, I’m having the time of my life and I love every minute of being part of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra!

2012 BSO Academy in the New York Times

Every Chair in This Temporary Orchestra Holds a Story

By DANIEL J. WAKIN

Published: July 13, 2012

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(This is a re-posting of an article written by New York Times reporter Daniel J. Wakin, who took part in our 2o12 BSO Academy program as a clarinetist. The views expressed by Wakin are not necessarily the same as those held by the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. To view the article on the New York Times website, please visit: NYTimes.com. Enjoy!)

BALTIMORE — The judge’s assistant who practices her viola in a courthouse jury room. The retired neurosurgeon who once flew surveillance flights for the United States Navy and who took up the clarinet at 63. The accountant who began oboe lessons to connect with her severely disabled daughter.

The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra brought together these musicians and others — a total of 104 amateurs of startling variety — last month for a weeklong fantasy camp of lessons, rehearsals, master classes and, finally, a concert at Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall.

It was a musically enthusiastic, even obsessive, bunch. Most spend countless hours a week practicing and playing in wind bands or community orchestras or chamber groups, in many cases more than one. It’s an older group. Many returned to music with fervor in retirement or in homes recently emptied of growing children. For some, music-making is the backbone of their social ties or an escape from the pressures of work.

Credit: Matt Roth for The New York Times

“It’s these kinds of people who guarantee the interest in classical music,” said Andrew Balio, the orchestra’s principal trumpeter. “They do everything in life well,” he said. It’s also these kinds of people, the Baltimore Symphony hopes, who will buy more tickets and make more donations.

Among the participants in what the symphony calls the BSO Academy were Deborah Edge of Washington, a double-bassist and retired internist who works part time for an organization that helps the homeless. She stopped playing in college, then resumed in 1986, after a 20-year lapse.

Jane Hughes, an oboist who works for General Dynamics, and her husband, William Jokela, a bassoonist and former United States Army chaplain, of Annandale, Va., met in a community band, play in a trio and came to the academy for the first time last year to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary. “This is our social life,” Mr. Jokela said.

William G. Young, an actuary from Norwalk, Conn., who practices clarinet an hour every evening, arranged to be in a chamber group with his brother-in-law, Harry Kaplan, a bassoonist and internist from Towson, Md. A half-dozen enthusiastic members of their family descended on Baltimore to hear them perform.

Matthew DeBeal of Laurel, Md., 25, one of the youngest players, spent his Saturdays as a youth studying violin at the preparatory division of the Peabody Institute, Baltimore’s conservatory, and now teaches string playing to middle schoolers in Howard County, Md. Mr. DeBeal, one of the more accomplished musicians among the participants, played solos in the academy’s final concert, on June 30.

Credit: Matt Roth for The New York Times

Ann Marie Cordial took up the viola just three and a half years ago. A judge’s assistant at the Baltimore County Circuit Court, she practices in a jury room across a corridor from a cell.

“That’s part of your sentence,” she said. “You have to listen to me practice.” Her playing, she said, once helped bring a halt to a brawl that involved sheriff’s deputies and a defendant just sentenced to life in prison.

The retired neurosurgeon and cold-war-era Navy pilot, Edward Layne, 78, of Cockeysville, Md., took up the clarinet 15 years ago. He called his first moments on the stage at last year’s academy “one of the signal minutes” of his life.

“I looked around, and I couldn’t believe I was sitting there,” he said.

Barbara Bowen, an accountant from Reisterstown, Md., plays oboe in three community orchestras. She started the instrument at 10, played through college, then took a 22-year break.

“The reason I went back into music was the connection it gave with my daughter,” who has multiple disabilities, Ms. Bowen said. “If I could change my career tomorrow, I would be a music therapist.”

For many of the first-time participants, the unusually demanding repertory, the high skill level of some fellow campers and the unforgiving standards of a professional orchestra came as a bit of a shock. Gradually, over the course of the week, confidence grew. Technique sharpened. Coherent musical lines emerged.

The reality of it struck on Monday, June 25, when the campers gathered by instrument in rooms at the Baltimore School for the Arts for the first rehearsal before the Saturday concert, which featured works by Tchaikovsky, Elgar and Falla.

“I couldn’t get a proper note,” said Dianne Cooperman, 65, of Rockville, Md., an information technology consultant for federal agencies and a self-taught French horn player. “Everything sounded generally out of tune. I was a mess. I didn’t want to play anymore.”

Ms. Cooperman faced the extra challenge of a tremor from Parkinson’s disease, which causes her knee to shake. Horn players generally rest the instrument on the right thigh. Because of the tremor, Ms. Cooperman had to use an extra chair to support the instrument.

The next day’s master class, in which the members of the section were to play for the orchestra’s principal horn player, Philip Munds, did not go much better for her.

Credit: Matt Roth for The New York Times

“It sounded like somebody was dying,” she said. “The more it came out bad, the more nervous I got.” Mr. Munds set her mind at ease and imparted a tip about hand position that brought immediate improvement.

As the week went on, Ms. Cooperman’s confidence improved. She timed her medicines better, so they took maximum effect at rehearsals. Her performance went up a notch. On Saturday afternoon she took a long nap before the concert, then went over her parts mentally without playing them on her horn.

Days later, she wrote about the experience in an e-mail: “I told myself: ‘I am incredibly lucky! Who else gets to attend five first-rate concerts in a row while sitting in the midst of the orchestra?’ All tremors, jitters and self-doubt were banished with that one realization.”

“And the good news is,” she added, “I definitely played all three pieces, especially the Falla, the best I had played them by far! I left no footprints as I walked off the stage that night. I was floating three feet off the floor.”

Out West with the BSO

Here's another report from the Mild West, where the Baltimore Symphony has been touring. Violinist Ivan Stefanovic offers this report from the weekend the orchestra spent in Berkeley:

Dear blog readers, greetings from a land of huge eucalyptus,

old olive, stately pine and tropical palm trees, town of many incredible farm-to-table restaurants, unsavory but entertaining characters on the sidewalks, ever-present fog and mist in the hills, and, of course, great coffee shops.

The BSO arrived in Berkeley on Thursday evening after battling rush-our traffic and crossing a bridge (not the Golden Gate) that, height-wise, makes our own Bay Bridge look like child's play.

The town is not very big, and the hotel we're staying in is near University of California at Berkeley, whose campus is adorned with the aforementioned beautiful tree specimens.

The campus paths are strangely empty and quiet this week, as most students are gone for their Spring Break.

On Friday morning, the BSO had two concerts. The matinee, "LIFE: A Journey Through Time," was tailored for school children, as it featured the incredible photographs of nature by the world-renowned National Geographic photographer Franz Lanting.

Music that accompanies the movie was written by Baltimore native minimalist composer Phillip Glass. It requires at times razor-thin precision on part of the conductor in order to match the rapid movement of photographs on the big screen that hangs above the stage.

Our Music Director Marin Alsop, who has done this score (and many other live movie scores) many times with great success, yet again managed to bring it all to life with great accuracy. The children in this concert showed almost too much enthusiasm while we were playing, but that just may be preferable to them being bored.

The evening concert started with a pairing of two fanfares, by Copland and Joan Tower, which gave our brass a chance to shine even in the less than ideal acoustical environment.

Our featured soloist was the energetic, yet so cool and composed percussionist extraordinaire, Colin Currie, who displayed his rhythmical superiority (which he still matched with great sensitivity in slow and calm sections) on many instruments, and while he darted from one part of the stage to another in order to reach different groups of instruments.

Jennifer Higdon, who wrote the Percussion Concerto, ingeniously paired the soloist in front of the stage with orchestra's own percussion section in the back, often having them play off of one another in rapid succession, and especially so in the extended and rock-like cadenza.

Our guys were a great match for Colin, proving that the great distance between them and the soloist that they had to overcome didn't matter to musicians with great ears.

Second half of the concert featured Prokofiev's great Fifth Symphony, which gave a chance to the orchestra, under Marin Alsop's leadership, to show both its expressive capability and great sense of drive.

The Berkeley audience responded accordingly, and was quickly rewarded with a short excerpt from Borodin's "Polovtsian Dances."

Keep cheering us on from afar!

-Ivan Stefanovic

(PHOTOS FROM TOP: A mission-style church across from Zellerbach Auditorium; Many choices of salsa in one of the excellent restaurants in Berkeley)

Dear blog readers,

I do know that it's been a while. So long a while, as a matter of fact, that you might have (gasp!) moved on to some more frequently updated blogging sites. But despair not, I'm back, after some busy times, and I won't leave you wondering alone for this long again (famous last words). As a matter of fact, it's been so long, that I started the blog below in the throws of our non-winter, just after the holiday season. This is what I wrote:

I do like the holiday season. Not everything about it, mind you, but many things. First, as an avid skier, I love the weather this time of the year—snow is my friend, and I don't mind the cold either (and no, I am not happy that we've not had much of either). Second, I love (most of) the decked-out houses in Baltimore neighborhoods. They range from tasteful white lights in trees to a myriad of biblical characters in various types of plastic, lit up in various colors, from Disney characters of the same make-up, to, of course, the pink flamingoes (that odd, almost quaint Baltimore tradition), all sitting peacefully one next to the other, on people's lawns.

I even like the music this time of the year. Being from Europe, a New Year doesn't start for me until I've watched the broadcast of Vienna Philharmonic's New Year's Concert, featuring many of the eternally elegant waltzes, coupled with the Lipizzaner horses, originally from the Slovenian Republic of my old country of Yugoslavia, dancing in sync with the music. Even the carols don't phase me, at least not in the first week or two of the season (though that period seems to come earlier every year, doesn't it, therefore lasting longer yet?).

This holiday season, I had an opportunity to hear an orchestra concert made up of talented students of A. Mario Loiederman Middle School in Montgomery County, that featured some of that holiday music. This is because I was given an opportunity to help them prepare (in a role of a conductor), during three visits, for a performance of Leroy Anderson's Sleigh Ride, that culminated in that concert.

Most of these kids are learning their instruments without the benefit of private lessons. A lot of them haven't even had a chance to learn how to properly hold their instrument or decipher some of the very basic note reading, let alone learn ways to mold a phrase or deliver dynamics the composer is requiring. But they make up for it in enthusiasm and youthful energy.

This is where their music teachers, in this case Ian Stuart and Liz Jankowski-Carson, enter into the equation. I have always considered the grossly underpaid music teachers in elementary and middle schools in this country to be the real heroes of our music industry. Day in and day out, they deal with kids who are playing on instruments that are sometimes missing proper reeds, strings, or are impossible to tune, kids that are sometimes lacking the capacity to be quiet, listen and concentrate at the high level that is required for any progress to occur in an ensemble rehearsal. Sometimes they have to politely ask and plead, other times turn into task masters the likes of boot camp officers, in order to get anything done. To say that rehearsing a 3 minute arrangement of the Sleigh Ride with these kids for a couple of hours is a challenge is a gross understatement.

Yet they (the teachers) perform small miracles every day. It was intriguing to see Mr. Stewart get them pepped up, yet keep them disciplined and quiet as they were preparing for their performance.

I listened to several jazz, pop and rock music-influenced holiday tunes backstage while waiting to conduct them in the Anderson, and observed the same types of communication that are necessary to pull off a performance anywhere, on any stage. Smiles and stern looks rained on them from their conductors'/teachers' faces, other sections were listened to for cues, eyes darted alternately from the music to conductor's baton, it all was there. Not all the notes were there, of course, and not every nuance came through, but it was all done with a great amount of energy and pride.

The same was true with the Sleigh Ride. I saw the whites of their eyes in crucial spots in the percussion, smiles from cellos in their fun counter-melodies, heard strong rhythm from brass and woodwinds and great dynamics from the violins and violas. The crowd, made up of very enthusiastic parents, teachers, and fellow students, exploded in appreciative applause. A great reward for the many hours of work the kids and their teachers put into the challenging program.

So, even though it may seem like a distant memory now, I remember with fondness the good time we all had in the last holiday season, and look forward to returning to the Loiederman School for more coachings and rehearsals in the spring, when this winter also becomes a just a distant memory.

-Ivan Stefanovic

A Walk in the Park

Dear readers,

I'm writing this from a bus (yes, it's the bus again, saves time in these busy times) on the way back from a brief and very successful weekend the BSO had in the great New York City, performing Honegger's Joanne of Arc at the Stake with our Music Director, Marin Alsop and a big cast of singers, actors and no less than three choirs.

The ride there was blissfully uneventful, and, after dropping stuff backstage at Carnegie Hall, I took a short, but very sweet, walk to Central Park. It was one of those perfect Fall days, with warm sunshine shining down from deep blue skies threaded with contrails upon throngs of people that had come out to enjoy it in every way possible. The active ones, ranging from pick-up soccer games, Frisbee throwers, joggers, rollerbladers, kids frolicking in piles of fallen leaves and on playgrounds, to the passive ones, strolling along and occasionally stopping to watch one of the many performance artists, taking in the sun on the grass at Sheep Meadow, sitting on one of the walls and just observing the people passing by (and speaking many of the world's languages), or enjoying a ride on a horse drawn carriage, feeling and looking romantic all the while trying to ignore the fact that they are, indeed, only feet away from a big animal whose bathroom habits are as controlled and mannered as those of a baby.

And, speaking of performance artists, that's where Central Park really stands out. Not only are they as varied here as anywhere, they also are the cream of the crop. If you can attract the crowds here, where they always have a choice of walking a hundred yards further to hear and see something that is more interesting, or moving, or just plain crazy, then you can make it anywhere! From the always-present caricature artists, to oversize bubble makers, and bicycle and rollerblade tricksters, to the many musicians of all kinds, there's definitely something for everyone.

One particular musician caught my ear as I was descending the steps towards the Mall and the beautiful pond.

He was seated on the wall that surrounds the now dry fountain, playing movements of solo suites by Johann Sebastian Bach. His sound was beautiful, his intonation impeccable, his style just right. Yet there he was, in not so ideal conditions (were the cool temperatures a reason he was holding his bow the way a lot of bass players do-German style?), surrounded by masses of people speaking many languages all at once, with competition from other musicians nearby, minding his own business of making beautiful music. His open cello case, lying by his feet, the top leaning on the wall of the fountain, was full, and getting fuller by the minute, of one dollar bills. An elderly Grandmother, a young German couple, a little girl clenching the doll she took for a walk in the park, were all moved and felt like they had to contribute something to this classiest of street artists. As a colleague, I contributed more, and started walking briskly back to Carnegie Hall, so I could make it back in time for my rehearsal. But, there was another wonderful distraction waiting for me. A couple had stopped on a path and was quietly looking up at something. On a low branch on one of the golden-yellow linden trees, near the children's carousel, stood a large peregrine falcon. His head moved left and right, as his small but sharp eyes, separated by his razor-sharp beak, surveyed the park, probably looking for a snack. After a couple of minutes, his body stiffened, his head perked up, and he lifted his large wings to get what had caught his attention.

At that point, pressed for time, I had concluded that I'd had enough inspiration for one day, and it was time to go make some beautiful music.

-Ivan Stefanovic

Opera Update

So, here we are in the pit of the Lyric, ready for the three hours of overt emotions, death, unexpressed love, and great music that Verdi's Traviata offers. And then, the unthinkable happens: the computer that controls the lighting crashes, and the many hundreds of Baltimore's finest patrons, that have been waiting way too long for the Grand Opera to show its presence in this fine city, have to wait another thirty minutes for the show to start.

But all is forgiven and quickly forgotten when the first notes of violins start playing a melody that is heart-wrenchingly beautiful and yet hints at the tragic things to come, and the glorious curtain rises to reveal a party scene that starts the story...

Grand Opera is back in Baltimore!

"Ides of October"

So Mother Nature decided to poke fun at us last Saturday (and didn't even have to use Facebook’s poke button for it). Just a couple of weeks after relishing in how the aforementioned "Mother" was right on the dot in sending flocks of Canada Geese due North, I was flying due South on I-83 early one Saturday morning to start my teaching day at Peabody, when she sent a full-fledged winter storm into the Mid-Atlantic and Northeast before October even had a chance to have a last word. People were sent scrambling to find car brushes and shovels; cities had to re-equip their trucks in order to push snow off of highways; all this just a few days after our sand boxes got delivered to hilly street corners (ours was still empty)! Also, I must say that hibiscus trees, butterfly bush flowers and marigolds look oh so wrong with a snowy white background behind them.

The BSO's trip to Strathmore was, fortunately, accident-free as we traveled to play an energy-filled concert with Barry Douglas as a soloist and Vasily Petrenko as guest conductor, featuring Rachmaninov's Symphony #3. Mr. Douglas used to play with us fairly often when David Zinman was our Music Director, and we recorded the #3 , together with #2, many years ago in my first few years in the orchestra.

It's funny how a brain plays games and tricks with musicians. Many times in my career, while playing a rehearsal or a concert, a very quick image of something or somebody from the past would appear in, and just as quickly disappear from, my mind (you'd be surprised how, despite the hundreds of bytes of information we are required to keep track of while performing, our brains sometimes venture off to mundane things like what we need to get at the grocery store!). After this happened one too many times, apparently at random, I started to come to a conclusion that I must have been playing that very same music when the given event happened. Now I don’t really have time to keep a diary of all our weekly programs and events from that week, but it would be interesting.

Speaking of interesting (and new), this Friday evening will be the very first time I’ve played a performance of a genuine opera in a pit, as the BSO brings the opera back to Baltimore in concerts in two performances of Verdi’s dramatic La Traviata. It’s been an amazing experience, with a great cast of singers, beautiful sets, and an extremely capable conductor who holds it all together. It has also been great listening to my colleagues that have been in the BSO just slightly (and a few, a lot) longer than me (coming up to my 21st year!) tell the many stories and memories from their days at the Lyric (before the Meyerhoff was built).

This will be a truly memorable weekend for the city and its music lovers. If there are any tickets left, it’ll be the place to see and be seen this weekend, so hurry and get some! We promise at least a few tears and many laughs, accompanied by some of the most beautiful music ever written. I also suggest a visit to Little Italy before and after-you’ll surely be craving some great Italian food after this!

(Little Italy, Baltimore)

-Ivan Stefanovic