Of course, I knew of James DePreist (I once auditioned for his orchestra, Oregon Symphony, though I didn’t make it past the first round); Calvin Simmons (I was deeply affected by the news of his untimely death in 1982); Michael Morgan (who passed away just this past week); and Denis De Couteau (friends in the SF Ballet Orchestra raved about him; I always hoped I would get to sub there and experience him for myself).
But I only became aware of these conductors once I was majoring in music and freelancing as a classical flutist. In my high school and early college years I had no idea there were black orchestra conductors.
But then I thought about it. When I was attending Milpitas High School in the early 70’s, the only way I heard about the wider world was from the newspaper and by sometimes watching the news with my parents. The local news — whether print or broadcast — probably didn’t place a lot of emphasis on black conductors from back East or in Europe.
And that brought home to me what an amazing difference the internet has made in the world. True, you can’t always trust it and the sheer volume of what’s out there is overwhelming, but my goodness, how it opens up our horizons!
Today I found myself remembering a period in my life when rather than being forced, I was motivated to get to bed early (as in midnight).
It was like this…
While I was finishing up my degree in flute performance at SF State, an acquaintance from the Quaker (Friends) meeting I attended recommended me for a rather particular job: the offices of the San Francisco branch of the American Friends Service Committee were located in a big beautiful mansion in the Inner Sunset, and they needed someone to do light housework and maintenance in exchange for a room and kitchen privileges at only $50 a month rent. Well, even in early-1980’s San Francisco that was like a miracle, so I jumped on it!
I had a sort of attic room on the third floor of the mansion, with a sweet little dormer window. I fixed it up and painted both the room and my bathroom. It was really like a haven to me.
Now, some of you will have never experienced what I’m about to describe — and others will have to think real hard to remember it — but at this time the only options for listening to music were record players, cassette tapes, and radio. And the way radio worked was you listened to what they played, when they played it. Period. No control or interaction whatsoever. Oh, and some stations, at least, weren’t on the air 24/7; they “signed off” at midnight.
That, in fact, was the case with KDFC, the classical radio station that I listened to. But their sign-off music was this wonderful, magical, exquisite piece of music that I loved soooo much that pretty soon I was hurrying to get ready for bed so that it would be the last thing I heard before I went to sleep.
Now I look back on that period of my life and oh! how I wish I could recreate a similar set of circumstances in present time. But it was such a unique and delicate balance… ….of something completely outside of my control, that… …made me feel so very good and uplifted, that… …I found it to be so compelling and desirable, that… …I willingly, and consistently, altered my behavior!
Not only is it impossible to replicate those magical circumstances, I can’t even identify the piece of music that had such an effect on me. Because it was the radio station’s sign-off music, they didn’t actually announce the title or composer. I think it might have been by Stravinsky, and I think it might have had something to do with a fairy or a princess or a kiss (!), but I don’t even know what gave me those ideas.
I’ve tried to research it, but you don’t find that sort of minutiae from that many decades ago any place online. After all, it was probably just handwritten on index cards or typed up on a monthly schedule. But I feel sort of wistful and melancholy when I think of it.
After my positive lyrics, raise-the-energy-through-dance phase, I managed to get myself back on track enough to return to SF State University and finish my undergraduate degree in flute performance. Thus began the intensely classical music period of my personal music history.
Three specific instances capture what I now believe was the true significance of this phase of my life…
The first was when I went to the library at SF State to complete a homework assignment for a music theory class. This was waaayyyy back when you had to go into the library, check out the vinyl LP, then take it into a little room in order to listen. I had been procrastinating for some weeks, but finally forced myself to go do the assignment.
Well, I dropped the needle and started listening to the first movement of the Brahms violin sonata #1 in G major…and promptly burst into tears. I had noidea what was causing such an deeply felt response, but I sat there and played that first movement over and over again. It was as if all the beauty in the world was coming through the opening measures of that sublime melody and my heart simply couldn’t contain it.
I finished my undergrad degree that year and went on to get my Master degree in flute performance from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. I played in orchestra and chamber music ensembles, did recitals, and played lots and lots of weddings and other “gigs”. I especially loved playing the music of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Tschaichovsky, Dvorak, Prokofiev, and other favorites too numerous to list!
Living in San Francisco as I did, I also spent a fair amount of time attending concerts at Davies Symphony Hall and seeing the ballet and opera in the War Memorial Opera House just up the street.
The second powerful memory from that time was a San Francisco Ballet performance of Stravinsky’s Firebird, in which the choreographer depicted the Firebird as a revolutionary male figure rallying his partisan comrades. It was downright stark, with a bare stage, drab partisan costumes, and a simple red unitard for the Firebird. But it captured the essence of Stravinsky’s score and amplified it in a way that was absolutely thrilling to me. I still remember it all these decades later (the video contains only the last five minutes or so of the ballet, but you might be able to get an idea of the power of it all).
The final memory I want to relate took place in Davies Symphony Hall at the end of the London Symphony’s performance of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony. I haven’t said much here about Mahler, but his music really spoke to me in those years. And the Fifth Symphony…!
Well, suffice it to say that at the end of the performance I sat in my seat unable to move, I was sobbing so hard. It was actually embarrassing because that’s just not the typical behavior of symphony patrons! But I couldn’t do anything different because I felt like the music had turned me completely inside out — mind, heart, and soul.
In retrospect, I believe this is the significance of this period of my personal music history. Music had helped me raise my energy; now it was helping me crack open my heart and ignite the deep yearnings of my soul.
