My First Violin!

When I was four years old, my father came home with a tiny black case.  I didn’t know what was inside but I could tell it was something special. 

“Tami,” he said,  “I bought you a violin.  You’re going to start taking lessons!” 

I felt a sudden rush of excitement. 

‘THIS,’ I thought,  ‘will be my new favorite toy!’ 

I begged him to let me play right away, but he said, “Not now . . . you have to take lessons.  You will learn.” 

Looking back at this moment, I am amazed at how his words have permeated every part of my experience.  As a violinist, I am constantly learning, striving to fully master an instrument that is as challenging as it is beautiful.   As I reflect on my time with the BSO, I am grateful for the things I have learned.

Playing in orchestra full time is like playing football.

Before moving to Baltimore, I didn’t think much about the Ravens.  However, football is a hot topic everywhere I go– in stores, at church, and even at work!  The Ravens play hard.  They run up and down the field, take hits, and tackle opposing players.   After my first few concerts with the BSO, I felt as though I had been playing in a Ravens game and had been tackled multiple times by a guy named “House!”  “I’m so sore!!!’ I thought, “Am I on a concert stage or in a football war zone?”  Musicians make it look easy, but playing in orchestra is very demanding physically.  Although I have played violin all my life, I have had to condition my body for the physical rigors of playing in orchestra each week.  The Ravens are amazing, but there is another team of enduring champs in town: The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra.

Playing in an orchestra is completely different than playing as a soloist.

Before this concert season, I performed primarily as a soloist.  I worked painstakingly to memorize pieces, develop musical nuance, and perfect stage presence.   I carried the weight of my performances, working to present renditions that reflected my personality and taste.  As orchestral player, I walk onstage with an opposite goal in mind: to avoid sticking out.  If I play a solo, it’s a big problem.  I’m either playing out of turn or playing differently than everyone else!  Orchestral playing requires a heightened awareness of the other players onstage, and, absolute commitment to uniformity at every level: in pitch, bow stroke, vibrato, rhythm, expression, and everything in between.   Although these elements play a key role in solo performance, orchestral performance requires skillful synchronization.

 

Orchestras are exceptionally dynamic organizations.

The modern symphony orchestra is one of the most dynamic music organizations in the community.  In addition to presenting world-class performances, orchestral organizations can make a positive impact on the community. During my time with the BSO, I have become convinced more than ever that orchestras can not only champion great music, but also unite diverse groups of people.  Orchestras can effectively bringing these initiatives to the forefront of music scene.  I am excited to be part of this dual mission and have a renewed purpose as a performer who hopes to make a difference in the world.

After many years, the violin is still my favorite toy!  Whether it is part of my journey to football, learning to play well with others, or discovering of a deeper purpose, it is an integral part of my adventures.  I can only imagine the beautiful sounds, wonderful people, and lessons that lie ahead!

A Game of Trust

Tami Lee Hughes

As I child, I loved playing outside with my friends.  The weather in Baton Rouge was warm and sunny most of the year and our backyard was perfect for playing hide-and-seek or simply running around in circles.  One weekend, my friends and I decided to play a trust game.

The object was to blindly fall backward and trust a friend to catch you.  As the oldest and biggest child in the group, I was designated to catch first.  I stood behind the little girl who lived next door and prepared to break her fall.  As she turned her back to me, she looked behind her to be sure I was ready.  She saw two strong and sturdy arms extended in anticipation.  Fully assured I would catch her, she fell gracefully into my arms.  We immediately switched places.  With my back turned to her, I looked behind me to check her position.  Instead of seeing two strong arms, however, I saw two puny arms unfolded from a small frame.  I thought to myself, ‘Are you kidding me?  She couldn’t catch a feather!  I’m going to hit the ground hard!’   I turned around and took a deep breath.  ‘I’ll count to three,’ I thought, ‘and then I’ll do it.’

Ok . . . here we go . . . 1. . . 2 . . . “Wait!” I shouted. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yes!  I’m ready!”

Alright . . . I can do this . . . 1. . . 2 . . . 2 ½ . . . “Did you hear my mom call me?” I asked.  “I thought I heard something!”

“No!  Now hurry up and fall back!”

Deep breath . . . 1. . . 2 . . . 2 ½ . . . 2 ¾ . . . “Ah man!  I need to go to the bathroom and it’s an emergency!”  I took off running, leaving the trust game far behind.  I learned an important lesson that day: Trust is a matter of life and death.

Three months into my time with the BSO, I have settled into my performance schedule and have grown to admire so much about the group.  Maestra Alsop and the players display the highest level of technical and artistic mastery, professionalism, and passion, but from my perspective, these factors alone do not define the orchestra’s success.

The orchestra really thrives because of trust.  Maestra Alsop has full trust, confidence, and respect for the players.  She knows that every musician will play the right note at the right time and commit to the inspiration she provides. The players, in turn, trust Maestra Alsop.  They have faith in her judgment on musical matters great and small and hold her artistic vision in high esteem.  In addition, the players trust each other.  Each player depends on others in his or her section, and in other sections, for melodic support.  With trust as a cornerstone, the BSO’s success is not a reflection of individual expertise, but of genuine cooperation and teamwork. 

As an adult, I still cling to the idea that trust is a matter of life and death.  My closest friends are the most trustworthy people I know and I love cultivating new friendships with people I believe I can trust.  I’m truly grateful to spend a year performing with an orchestra that demonstrates this concept so beautifully through music.  Because of trust, playing with the BSO is not a mere exercise in musical proficiency, but a joy!

-Tami Lee Hughes, December 2012

"Success unshared is failure." (Tami Lee Hughes - BSO Fellow)

A few years ago, while reading about John Paul DeJoria, co-founder of Paul Mitchell hair products, the following words hit me like a bolt of lightening:

Success unshared is failure.

This is DeJoria’s personal mantra.  A self-made billionaire and philanthropist, he has donated millions of dollars to fight hunger, develop community programs for inner city children, and provide resources for medical causes.

I could hardly contain myself as I read the sentence over and over again:

Success unshared is failure.

Success unshared is failure.

Success unshared is failure.

Each word has meaning but together, the words create something so powerful: the guiding principle that our greatest success is not realized through accomplishments for personal gain, but rather, through the active use of our talents to make a difference in the lives of others.  

Tami Lee Hughes - BSO Fellow

During my time with the BSO, I have the opportunity to work OrchKids, a program that provides music education, instruments, academic instruction, meals, and performance and mentorship opportunities to students in Baltimore City neighborhoods.  On my first day with OrchKids, I entered a classroom filled with wiggly, giggly kindergarten students who are not only learning to tie their shoes, but also to play the violin.  The students can hardly contain themselves when it’s time for class as they proudly take their instruments to their assigned spots in the room.  They soak everything in as fresh sponges, from note reading to playing techniques to learning new songs. Each time I visit, I can’t help but think of how the class resembles my own kindergarten experience.  Like these little ones, we were full of energy with a spark for learning.  However, we had limited resources for exploring our creative talents.  Through OrchKids, the young students I see each week are not only learning to play a beautiful instrument, but they are also developing a creative identity, learning to think in new ways, becoming disciplined, and grow in responsibility.  The impact of the program extends to every area of their lives, including who they will become and how they will achieve academic success.  One of the elements I most appreciate is the interaction between the OrchKids students and instructors.  The students are comfortable with the teachers so they love to ask questions.  In the kindergarten class, one student often says with a big smile, “Miss Tami.  I need help!”  He really enjoys playing the violin and wants to get it right.  When class is over, he sometimes gives me a hug before I leave the room.  It’s his way of saying, “Thank you for helping me!  I’m glad you’re here!”

Success unshared is failure.  I am reminded of this every time I open my case and see these four words on a little sign I posted inside.  Having incorporated music outreach into my work for many years, I know programs like OrchKids make a big difference. I love performing and hope to develop a wonderful career as an artist, but I know my greatest achievement will be the impact I have on the lives of others. 

The students make my work truly meaningful and inspire me to make the most of my gifts and talents.

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

• FACEBOOK
• TWITTER
• GOOGLE+
• E-MAIL
• SHARE
• PRINT
• REPRINTS

(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

"Beautiful Days"

The way Beethoven expresses his feelings: "I love you"
The way Debussy expresses the same feeling: "It's a beautiful day"

This is how this weekend’s guest conductor, Louis Langrée, explained the way Impressionist composers convey their feelings to audiences. His audience was one drawn by Free Fall Baltimore, which allowed many to attend a working rehearsal of two masterpieces each of Mozart and Debussy that are part of a beautiful program that also features a masterful violin soloist James Ehnes. There are two concerts remaining, Friday and Saturday evening. Don't miss this treat for the ears!

Bolt for the BSO Update

Last Saturday, Bolt for the BSO came to a rousing end in the form of the Baltimore Running Festival, which we all lovingly call the Baltimore Marathon. Many musicians, administrators and Board members, as well as our Music Director, Marin Alsop (together with her son), ran an array of races from 5K's to the full marathon. Some ran as veterans of these events, many more ran for the very fist time.

It turned out to be a glorious day, with full sunshine backed by azure-blue skies and just enough of a breeze to make sweating a negligible side-effect. Some 25,000 runners from all states of the Union and 24 different countries participated in this incredible display of humans working together for the common cause: to exercise, to lose weight, to achieve and surpass personal records, and, primarily (for most of us, one can hope), to have fun.

BSO's "Bolters" had an additional goal - to, in a way, justify and thank all of the generous donors who helped us get, as of today, very close to our goal of raising at least $50,000 for our beloved orchestra. The good news is that there's still time, until November 1, for you to pick and sponsor a runner and therefore contribute in this inspired and oh-so-well run and organized effort by Cynthia Renn, our Governing Member Extraordinaire (and many others) to help this incredible arts organization continue contributing its talents to the city and state it's in, at the highest level of excellence. You can do so by going to this link: www.active.com/donate/Bolt2011, or, if you really like my blog, here's my personal Bolt fundraising page: http://www.active.com/donate/Bolt2011/B2011IStefan.

Here are a few of my impressions from the race:

-Favorite moment (other than the obvious one of crossing the finish line): The start of the race, after a heart-felt rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner, with thousands cheering and confetti flying.

-Favorite sign alongside the race: "WORST PARADE EVER". Made me laugh so hard that I lost my pace for a few seconds.

-Favorite scene: Coming down the hill from Harford Rd. and seeing the first few hundred racers already circling the deep-blue waters of picturesque Lake Montebello, leading a long snake of runners that stretched for miles.

-Favorite not-so-legal, yet so Baltimore-like scene: A couple, set up with a small table in front one of the colorful row-houses in Charles Village, handing out beer in open cups to runners, as a Baltimore Policeman stands, ignoring them, a few feet away

-Favorite revelation: That the waters of the above lake were such a deep blue color because of the wind which, as we circled the lake and noticed whitecaps forming, hit us dead-on and followed us to the finish line, probably slowing down each runner's time by a few precious seconds.

-Favorite way to take advantage of a captive audience: Several musicians (bands) set up along the way, of which the one somewhere on Howard St. takes the cake for the least inspiring singing/playing. Made me run faster, just when I was starting to loose energy!

-Favorite effort at getting their sign noticed: A guy from Occupy Baltimore, near Patterson Park, running on the side of the course in the opposite direction of hundreds of participants , holding a 99% sign.

-Favorite side-effect of the race: The many policeman manning the intersections in the impoverished parts of town, allowing some of our fellow citizens to feel safe enough this one time in a year to come out on their stoops, many in their pajamas, and heartily cheer on (and for some, sing and dance) the strangers that would otherwise be too scared to even drive through their neighborhoods. Touching and inspiring.

And now, I think I bought myself some bragging rights:

• Half-Marathon time 1:51:59 (about 8.5 minute miles), significantly better than last year's 1:57:something, which was my first ever race, after I had just started running that summer.
  
• 120th in my age category
• 1,200 overall (of about 11,000 half-marathon runners).

Not too bad for a second violinist :)

"Lessons"

(This is the first response to the BOLT donation challenge I wrote about below.)

Lesson:

–an amount of teaching given at one time

–a period of learning or teaching

–a passage from the Bible read aloud during a church service

–to learn one's lesson

–to teach someone a lesson

So many meanings, yet they all really mean one thing. I especially like the last one. Even with its oh-so-obvious meaning in the music world, it still carries that admonishing connotation that I never want to convey when I am, indeed, “teaching someone a lesson.”

So, the word itself essentially means that there is some kind of learning process happening during a usually pre-assigned period of time (hey, maybe I should send that meaning to Webster's, I think it's pretty good?). If one looks at it that way, the implication is that there's a teacher (coach, trainer, etc.) doing the teaching, and a student (apprentice, sports player, etc.) doing the learning. However, anyone that's devoted any time to teaching (in my case, over 20 years) knows that it is much more of a two-way street.

In music, this couldn't be more accentuated (excuse the pun). A musician (student) spends countless hours being instructed (taught) on so many different levels: holding the instrument properly, having the correct body posture, specific (and countless) technical exercises; but all that work ties into the “product” they are creating: the glorious music that's supposed to come out of their instrument. And therein lies the catch.

It's hard enough for a teacher to put into words what he/she knows at that point in their career (hopefully) so well, especially with regards to purely technical aspects of playing: the tricks to playing with a straight bow, control of a good spiccato (a bouncing stroke), the various widths and speeds of an expressive vibrato. Even those concepts require a lot of “translating” from what comes so naturally and what our teachers so capably put into words for us so many years ago. The real challenge comes when a teacher is confronted, whether with a new student or for the first time altogether, with having to convey a meaning of a musical phrase, a direction of a certain musical idea, or a style of music from many centuries ago. That's the real challenge in teaching.

Even after so many years in the profession, I still find it stimulating to exchange ideas with my students about what all those symbols on the page are trying to convey, to get them to discover for themselves how to use all those techniques we worked so hard on in order to make sounds that move and, yes, entertain, the listener. And that's a lesson that teaches both the student and the teacher.

-Ivan Stefanovic

Bolt for the BSO Challenge

Dear blog readers,

Now that the BSO's season (and other ensemble's seasons that I am involved in) is in full swing, and my kids are all settled in their schools, and, after I spent many hours on the phone with a not-to-be-named company whose name starts with the letter V and finally got my phone and Internet service troubles squared away, I promise to write more often, like I did last season. To help me with that, I propose to you a unique challenge: if you donate $25 or more (and do feel free to be more generous:) to Bolt for the BSO (see more on that in a recent entry below) in my name, you will buy yourself a right to ask me to write a blog (not just 2-3 sentences, I promise) on any topic that you choose, music-related or not. I know, I'm really putting myself on a limb, but wonderful people that organized this effort are working so hard on this, and I feel like this is a great opportunity to help from my end in this unusual way. As soon as I see your donation (I get a notice of it right away), I will write to you and ask you to post your topic of interest on the blog (as an answer to this post), or send me an e-mail with a topic, and I'll write a response within a few days.

And speaking of the season being in full swing, don't miss this weekend's performances with Yan Pascal Tortelier, one of our favorite guest conductors, as he leads us in Sibelius' atmospheric Fifth Symphony (with a most dramatic ending) and Elgar's powerful Concert-Overture named In the South (as in Italy, which is the South to Britons). Cuban pianist Horacio Gutiérrez, who is an old friend of the BSO (we have produced several recordings with him under the baton of David Zinman), will play Mozart's opera-induced Piano Concerto No. 19 (make sure to listen for quotes from his operatic opus in the last movement!).

Check out this YouTube video of Tortelier, whose father was the eminent cellist Paul Tortelier, as a young and virtuosic violinist in a performance of the difficult La Tzigane by Maurice Ravel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=15XGTHaJIu0

-Ivan Stefanovic

Bolting In Montenegro

Hi, Ivan here.

I just wanted to clarify why I started this blog with "Dear fellow Bolters". Bolters, as I named ourselves, are members of the orchestra, administration and friends of the BSO who are running in the 2011 Baltimore Running Festival in October. We are members of Bolt for the BSO (hence "Bolters"), an organization that was started last year by a BSO Governing Board member in order to raise money for the organization.

We were very successful last year, and plan to be even more so this year. The fun aspect of this (other than running) is that you can sponsor me by going to this page: http://www.active.com/donate/Bolt2011/B2011IStefan, or any of us on the home page: http://www.active.com/donate/Bolt2011.

Thank you all for being our supporters in so many ways!

___________________________________

Dear fellow Bolters, I have spent the last couple of weeks in beautiful Montenegro (part of former Yugoslavia), where my sisters and I used to spend our summers in our parents' house, built some 50 years ago. I'm here now with my family of five (my wife Jennifer and our three boys), and also my older sister and her two children.

After recuperating from an overnight train trip from Belgrade to the Adriatic Coast which took much longer than anticipated due to some technical problems, and taking a few days off from training, I started running again.

My parents' place is located on the beach of a beautiful town called Sveti (Saint) Stefan, whose crown jewel is a unique city-hotel situated on a rocky island (now connected by a small bridge to land) that originally housed fishermen, starting around the 15th century, and now houses the rich and famous that can afford it. To get to that spectacular view and the beginning of my running path, there's a good warm-up in the form of a few stairs between the beach buildings. Then I am greeted by this view:





Next comes a downhill, with views of spectacular mountains just being touched by the sun, through these tall pines:





Further down, ok the side of the road, I take note of the newly ripe wild blackberries, which I consume on the way back:




The same fate awaits these figs:





In the middle of my path, I come upon two gates like the one below, which used to be stationed by guards watching over the royal grounds.





Montenegro used to be a kingdom, and the king's palace is still standing on a beautiful stretch of beach, now also turned into a luxury hotel:




Next is the tiny and precious Queen's beach, where one can imagine she could escape from her husband's ramblings about his prowess:





At the end of a longish uphill, the rays of Adriatic sun haven't yet reached the cozy fisherman's village of Pržno, where the catch of the day means literally just that in the beach-side restaurants, as the seafood is brought right to them and then presented to patrons on big circular platters for their perusal, in place of a menu:





Upon my return, I usually get right into my inflatable kayak that I travel with, and meander over to some isolated beach in the stillness of the early morning for a refreshing swim, as I await the sun to reach over the mountains into the blue-green water:




Then it's time for a jog up many stairs to the village for some fresh bread, eggs and oatmeal, and a hearty breakfast. A great way to start a day, get exercise, and then continue the "cross-training" with spear fishing, and more swimming, kayaking, climbing over rocky islands, and general beach fun with my wife and our three boys.

My batteries will, I trust, be fully charged and ready to go for both the Bolt for the BSO Half-Marathon in October, as well as the next great season of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra.

-Ivan Stefanovic