Samuel Thompson on Violinist.com

'First Fight. Then Fiddle' - Gwendolyn Brooks

Thu, 18 Feb 2010 23:30:07 GMT

I was not familiar with this sonnet until this morning - written by Gwendolyn Brooks, it was an email inbox treat sent from a dear friend with whom I went to graduate school. & nbsp; & nbsp; Enjoy.

__________________________________

First fight. Then fiddle. Ply the slipping string
With feathery sorcery; muzzle the note
With hurting love; the music that they wrote
Bewitch, bewilder. Qualify to sing
Threadwise. Devise no salt, no hempen thing
For the dear instrument to bear. Devote
The bow to silks and honey. Be remote
A while from malice and from murdering,
But first to arms, to armor. Carry hate
In front of you and harmony behind.
Be deaf to music and to beauty blind.
Win war. Rise bloody, maybe not too late
For having first to civilize a space
Wherein to play your violin with grace.

Be A Violinist First....

Wed, 03 Feb 2010 21:02:31 GMT

Well...not sure how to start this one but I'll say again that it does feel wonderful to be in a state of "punching my way out of the dark".

In thinking about our responsibility to ourselves as musicians and the craft of musicmaking, I have found myself remembering the words and advice of many teachers and people from whom I have had the opportunity to take lessons. The theme, of course, was all the same: "Be a violinist first."

So, this year I've decided that I'm going to study Nicolo Paganini's Twenty-Four Caprices....while in graduate school one of my summer assignments was to go through the caprices at the rate of one a week. Of course, as I look back the goal was simply to get through them, with the added benefit of improving my technique. Back then (this was in 1997 or 1998), I think I got through two of them. It is humbling to admit that I did not have the patience to analyze those thorny bits back then, and even more amazing to find that now I DO have the patience AND the desire to know them and to improve, as the true benefit is in both study and preparation.

Of course, with the goal now being one caprice every TWO weeks (with two weeks off after the first twelve), I know that I will only be taking a cursory look at these works which are both technically and musically fascinating. Nevertheless, it's a "hard slog" that I'm enjoying at the moment.

Perhaps in a few years I'll be able to play at least one of them in public...

Onward,
Sam

...ferried to a place of calm and beauty...

Fri, 22 Jan 2010 23:53:57 GMT

Well, the last time I wrote it was about buying a bow, and that is in the works...

In February 1999 while a fellow at the New World Symphony I received a call from my friend and colleague Philip Payton, who was unable to play an outside performance. SO, I said yes, and was given the number of a man named Gilbert Stafford.�� Being from South Carolina and taught to address people very formally, I of course addressed him as "Mr. Stafford" upon making the first call.

In the second message left for me: "...and Sam, it's Gilbert. So formal..."

The performance was that of the Black Door Dance Company, and Gilbert was the emcee: in a beautiful chair, dressed so elegantly, giving the audience "the scoop" on what was about to take place. At that moment, I decided that I wanted to be his friend - and knowing a bit of what South Beach was about, not one of his "friends" for the sole purpose of being let into the clubs. At that time I wasn't even thinking of going out....

...upon hearing of Gilbert's recent passing, I have like many been flooded with memories. Not only was the most amazing host at the many parties and events taking place on the Beach, he was also a truly wonderful person: an intellectual who loved opera, Miklos Rozsa, Sergei Prokofieff and the violinist Nathan Milstein as well as SO many other things, I cannot begin to recall everything. In addition to the nights out there were many hours at his apartment listening to great music and having very lively conversations, with rooms being filled with such interesting and fantastic people from all across the globe.

Still shy then (as I am now sometimes), I was amazed that this man let me into his world - no judgment, no preconceived ideas or expectations of "who I should be", just the inclusiveness that is hallmark of the many humble souls who have graced humanity with their presence.

In 2006, after not having seen Gilbert for seven years (life does what it does, and I moved first back to Houston and later to New Orleans), I decided that I wanted to spend some time with him - he was living in Manhattan at the time and I, having played my debut at the Arts and Ideas Festival in New Haven (in the neighborhood), also needed a break from what had been a tumultuous time.� While I did arrive at his apartment early (he was at a meeting), there was no way to describe the joy that I felt upon his walking into the room, towering over me - perhaps Gilbert was in many ways the "soul protector" that we all need at some point, just there, no grandstanding, but always ready to do the right thing....those two weeks were so wonderful and I am truly grateful to have had those two weeks to reconnect with my dear friend.

Again, lives and locations change - I to Charleston, then to Baltimore and later the Hudson Valley, Gilbert back to Miami and later to Los Angeles - but we kept in touch, through telephone calls and (recently) Facebook. I did not get to speak to him in depth before his passing, but the last words that I heard were from a kind, gentle, and loving soul.

While I may not have interacted with you as often as many did, dearest Gilbert, thank you for championing me and being a loyal, steadfast, sometimes hard-nosed, elegant, curious, beautiful and stable presence in my life - and thanks for making this kid from South Carolina feel like he truly mattered in the world.

Of course, life does have a way of bringing people and situations together - my dear friend�Philip Payton (a violinist currently living in New York) had discussed playing the Rozsa Sonata for Two Violins for Gilbert while living in Miami...twelve years later, we had the opportunity to do so in tribute to our dear friend.

The Bow...Part Two...

Mon, 11 Jan 2010 23:14:10 GMT

Happy New Year and thank you all for your very helpful comments as well as your empathy...it's now in progress! & nbsp; & nbsp; More later, & nbsp; Sam

On Buying a Bow...

Sun, 29 Nov 2009 21:35:52 GMT

In a March, 2009 interview with Laurie Niles of violinist.com, soloist James Ehnes recalls many of the facets of his career, including the search for a fine instrument and his studies. During this interview Mr. Ehnes shares a story in which someone complimented him on his bow grip and asked the questions "Who taught you? What happened?"

The answer was quite simple - Mr. Ehnes was playing on a much better bow than he had been ten years ago when the person questioning had originally heard him in concert.

While a student at the Shepherd School of Music many of us were in the process of acquiring better equipment, and I very fondly remember one student saying "It's amazing, you spend so much time practicing, doing what your teacher says and learning the technique, and then BOOM! You get a better bow, and it all makes sense, there's no more struggle, just application." I have found this to be true on many occasions during my search for a good stick, and the past weeks events have not only confirmed both Mr. Ehnes' and my former colleague's thoughts.

Last week I took an audition - as I have been coming to Knoxville, Tennessee often since March 2008 due to my work with Carpetbag Theatre, I thought it wise to take the audition being held for section positions with the Knoxville Symphony Orchestra. The week before this audition I had the good fortune to spend a week with a dear friend, also a Shepherd School alum, during which she graciously let me play with her violin and bow. Playing on a fine instrument like hers did indeed make a difference in how I approached sound production for the remainder of my practice period: with an instrument like that, there is no need to force. What one does is simply "find the sound". Her bow, a fine modern French bow, was made by a maker whose work I have tried before, and it was much the same - less "effort" and more attention to the quality of the strokes and the sound being produced.

The audition results - well, those aren't important. What IS important is that immediately after this audition I went to a violin shop and asked to see some of their inventory. Seven bows and about one hour (that FLEW by) later, I found one that is truly making a difference, a bow made by German bowmaker Sebastian Dirr.

Of course, the next questions are being asked: "How do I afford this? Will I spend this much time practicing, away from family and friends, and am I willing to spend the amount of time it may take to work and earn the funds necessary to purchase this? Is the violin playing the most important thing?"

There are so many stories about violinists and instruments, and the question of cost: In his Violin Dreams, Arnold Steinhardt speaks of acquiring an instrument after being hired by the Cleveland Orchestra and being somewhat shocked at the price. Nigel Kennedy also speaks of the soaring cost of instruments in his autobiography, also suggesting many ideas for bridging investors and musicians together so that these costs can be borne.

The question, though, should not be of the cost, but rather on the worth, the value of making such an investment. As I ponder - and enjoy practicing - this bow I find myself incredibly grateful for all who have spoken of the cost/value/worth conundurm and truly thankful�to�Mr. Ehnes for his candor.

In the meantime, does anyone have any ideas on how to go about making this purchase?

The metronome ticks,
Sam

Our Shared Humanity - and the End of an Era

Fri, 01 May 2009 10:19:37 GMT

& quot;A crossroads of maestros and tyros, the venerable Joseph Patelson Music House in Manhattan has been like a living room for the classical music world.

For more than six decades its shelves bulged with the fruit of Mozart and Bach, Stravinsky and Strauss, to be plucked by shoppers who wore its wooden floors black and sought counsel from expert and sometimes cantankerous sales clerks.

Yes, you know it is coming: Goodbye, Patelson & rsquo;s. & quot;
-Daniel J. Wakin, New York Times

Yes, it was from this article in the New York Times that I and many in the world found out that Patelson's Music House was closing its doors.

I have been to Patelson's only twice - an odd thing to many, I'm sure, considering that I AM a classical musician, but I studied at Rice University in Houston and my trips to New York were rare. It was in 1995 that first traveled to the city with violin in hand (for my Mannes College of Music audition - grad school auditions, those were the days, no?) and it was during that trip that I ventured into Patelson's Music House and bought Bartok's Second Violin Concerto.

My second visit to Patelson's was yesterday.

A friend and I went into the city with the intention of filling holes in our respective music collections. This was simple for me: a few orchestral parts and perhaps some chamber music and other things that I absolutely need. Choosing those things was easy - it was deciding which small composer prints to purchase that became difficult!

& quot;At the store the atmosphere is sad and lonely. The holdings are a shadow of what they once were. On the wooden shelves heavy cardboard dividers with composer and work names written neatly in felt-tip pen line up with little music between them. & quot;

Although written two weeks ago, Mr. Wakin's description of the store is more than accurate - the place is bare. Apparently the plan is that the store will remain open until either all or most of the remaining inventory is gone, there is no set final date.

While I was happy to have had the opportunity to replace some things (yes, it's still going on), I had a very strange feeling during the entire visit, and I shared it with one of the salespeople: & quot;I kind of feel like I'm looting, & quot; I said as I placed my small stack of violin parts from Beethoven and Brahms symphonies on the counter.

There were conversations with other patrons as well as the salespeople - the two men working yesterday seemed to be handling this transition with grace, preparing themselves for new ventures as we all have at times. A piano teacher (who looked conspicuously like a long-lost relative) and I spoke about the remaining retail options for buying sheet music and supplies in the city. Nevertheless, while everyone was in good spirits there was a sadness in the air, a reminder of the ephemeral nature of this life and the larger reality that everything can change.

During that first trip to Manhattan in 1995, I found myself feeling oddly protective of a half-eaten bagel while on the subway when, during the ride, a homeless person came into the car asking for assistance. I'm somewhat ashamed to admit this, as well as to share my thoughts from that moment ( & quot;His backpack is in better shape than mine & quot;, I thought as the man moved slowly and desperately through the crowded subway car in 1995).

Fourteen years later - after a few profound changes in my own life, including Hurricane Katrina and these years that have followed - I can only hope that I'm a bit more human and compassionate. While walking back to Grand Central Station my friend and I passed a homeless man on Fifth Avenue. Unlike the man on the subway fourteen years ago, this man sat on the corner, sign in his lap, saying nothing - and the world passed him by, pretending not to see.

I went back to share what I had - I do wish that it could have been more - and took his hand...

...I think he smiled. At least his eyes did...guess we do come full circle after all.

More from the road,
Sam

Painting by Yvonne Rabdau, 2009

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 18:09:15 GMT

In August 2009 I had the pleasure of doing a photo shoot with Yvonne Rabdau, a photographer/visual artist living in the Hudson Valley. & nbsp; & nbsp; Her intention was to take a series of photographs from which a portrait would be painted.

Well, it's done - and I'm amazed. & nbsp; & nbsp; Yvonne is a spectacular painter - this is evidenced by the capturing of many of the violin's details. & nbsp; & nbsp; I have posted both the original photograph and a link to the portrait on my Facebook page, and invite all of you to take a look at some really marvelous work...or if you'd like, simply visit Yvonne's website.

Happy Spring!

...

& nbsp;

Violinist Tai Murray in MUSO Magazine

Wed, 22 Apr 2009 10:01:40 GMT

Dear all: & nbsp; & nbsp; Please feel free to take a look at this article about violinist Tai Murray that appears in the most recent issue of MUSO & nbsp;Magazine:

http://www.opus3artists.com/news/?id=999

Post-Script on Music and Meaning

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 09:40:13 GMT

Thank you all for the commentary on my most recent entry.

In the days since the publication of the Philadelphia Inquirer article, there have been at least TWO & nbsp;commentaries posted by well-known and extremely knowledgeable men in the orchestral world. & nbsp; & nbsp; The first is by Drew McManus & nbsp;- orchestral consultant and author of Adaptistration.com - and the second, which I & nbsp;have to quote here, is by violist & nbsp;Sam Bergman of the Minnesota Orchestra:

& quot;Such articles usually contain a lot of scary but isolated numbers (an orchestra CEO who makes $1 million a year!! a stagehand who makes north of $400K!!! a newly minted orchestra musician right out of school making $130K!!!!) designed to drive home the idea that orchestral finance is completely out of control, thus relieving the author of actually having to prove his thesis with real economic data that applies across the broader industry. & quot;

& quot;So taken in a broader context, pronouncements of the unsustainability of our business model (and if history is any guide, there will be many more of these in the coming months) are more or less entirely contradicted by the self-evident ability of most orchestras to adapt to changes in our specific economies. The headlines trumpeting layoffs and salary givebacks aren't evidence of the failure of a business model. They're a demonstration of how the model bends without breaking. & quot;
& nbsp;

Mr. Bergman's entire article can be found through this link. & nbsp; & nbsp; Enjoy, and please share your thoughts.

On Music, Meaning, and Value

Fri, 10 Apr 2009 14:48:00 GMT

Hello, all - I'm back. The past few weeks have consisted of much practicing and much WRITING, but not writing of this sort: it's both tax time and grantwriting time, and while I am one of the many that is still working on his 2008 IRS 1040s I did, after a forty-eight hour lockdown (that consisted of slaying some personal dragons as well as many takes of Bach and Ysaye), get a grant application out before the deadline. While I have done this before, I have to say that I now have an even deeper respect for those who work in Development and fundraising for our arts organizations. Thank you all so much for doing what you do!

In a recent article in the Philadelphia Inquirer, Peter Dobrin speaks of the state of America's orchestras and the (if I may) draconian measures being taken to survive the economic downturn. For those who are unaware, many orchestras are cancelling tours, laying off employees in administrative positions, freezing salaries, shortening both summer seasons and the number of concerts to be given during the 2009-2010 season - and many music directors are taking salary cuts. While this has happened before (in an earlier blog I mentioned the cataclysmic period between 2001-2003), this round of & quot;chopping & quot; is sounding greater alarms due to the fact that these measures are being taken by large cultural institutions including the Cleveland Orchestra, Philadelphia Orchestra, Minnesota Orchestra, Pittsburgh Symphony, Atlanta Symphony and the Metropolitan Opera.

In his article, Mr. Dobrin does make a very valid point, that being that both business and artistic plans across the nation were based on market speculation - we can all look at the years between 1996-2008 to see some of the amazing growth and expansion that has taken place in the United States. However, with the stock market shrinking, many endowments have lost up to half of their value, which of course creates problems when interest from those endowments is allocated for operations costs.

However, Mr. Dobrin takes a very disturbing turn in his article when he begins to speak of some of the salaries earned by top orchestral executives and the musicians who make up the membership of these orchestras. & quot;Is it really a good thing that Deborah Borda, president of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Association, made well over $1 million for the year that ended in September 2007? Or that a hornist in the New York Philharmonic made $300,000, an oboe player in the Philadelphia Orchestra $249,000? & quot; he asks.

He then speaks of the fees commanded by international soloists and follows with: & quot;Then there's the regular payroll. When a hundred or more applicants audition for a section violin spot, is it necessary to offer a starting salary of $130,000 for a player just out of school? Would the same audition draw less stellar talent if the job were offering, say, $80,000 the first year on a multiyear schedule to reach $130,000 in some year thereafter? & quot;

My first argument with Mr. Dobrin is that in listing these salaries he is in effect ignoring the reality of most musicians and most orchestral musicians in the United States, as very few orchestras in this country provide those salaries. Secondly, speaking of these salaries does a great disservice to the public's perception of all musicians, particularly those who perform in two or more groups on a freelance basis - which is, I think, the case with the majority of musicians in America's major cities (if not the nation).

Is it not safe to say that the aforementioned & quot;philosophies & quot; are moot, considering what we have seen take place in the & quot;productive & quot; business sector since 2001 (Tyco, WorldCom, Enron, AIG, Merrill-Lynch, Bank of America, Countrywide, et cetera ad nauseum)?

*sigh* *exhale*

I must ask your forgiveness - believe you me, I am WELL aware (painfully aware) of what's happening in this country and how arts organizations and artists are being affected. It's almost frightening. However, if the conversations continue to consist of questioning the cost of what we do, the VALUE of what we produce will continue to be maligned and that could result in great loss - particularly if the world's economic situation takes an even sharper nose dive.
And what IS the value of a symphony orchestra, a soloist, an art museum, a ballet company, a theatre company? How do you measure that?

That value is something that cannot be measured in dollars and cents: it can only be measured by the soul and the senses - and with that, I share with you a clip from the 1939 movie They Shall Have Music, during which an audience (including a young man who would for all purposes be called a & quot;troubled child & quot;) listens intently to a performance of Saint-Saens' Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso played by Jascha Heifetz:

& quot;It's a MOVIE! They're ACTING! & quot; you may say. Regardless - we as artists and everyone who has attended a concert has had the experience that makes itself visible on the faces of those in that audience - and the value of those transcendent experiences should NEVER be questioned in terms of & quot;pocket change & quot;.