Wednesday, January 29, 2020

Living the Language, part I

I had already been a student of the Portuguese language when I started writing my application for a Fulbright scholarship to teach in Brazil. My Brazilian husband, Adriano, and I regularly spoke the language (in bits and pieces) in our home. Podcasts, online lessons and sporadic study with other native speakers had helped me achieve a relative level of comfort with a basic vocabulary and common phrases.

However, in order to get the most out of my Brazilian teaching experience, I would need to seriously up my game. With the generous support of a Global Initiative Grant from Butler University's office of International Studies, I enrolled in a month-long intensive Portuguese immersion experience offered at the University of Coimbra, located just about two hours north of Lisbon. There, Adriano and I rented an apartment just a ten minute walk from the campus (one of Europe's most beautiful and historic, founded in 1290) for the month of July last year, and I dove head-first into studying and (hopefully!) learning.

Enjoying a short visit with Portuguese author Fernando Pessoa, in the Lisbon subway


Most of our class time was spent in grammar classes, but we also had cultural studies, too. My favorite of all was our literature class. Taught by a very engaging Professor (Prof. Soares), he chose NOT to attempt to survey centuries of Portuguese literature. Rather, we focused the entire month on the poetry of one 20th century Portuguese writer, Fernando Pessoa (1888-1935).

It was a very good strategy, mainly, since the poems themselves were all quite short. In a class with 50 students from around the world, and each of us with a different level of language proficiency, each week's focus on a single poem of ten or twenty lines meant we could quickly resolve questions of vocabulary and meaning, and get right into the heart of the matter--context, nuance, interpretation. Good stuff!

I have always been a fan of poetry...credit goes to my parents (Mom's rendition of "The Whirling Dervish" or Dad's clever tropes of Meredith Willson's "Trouble" from "The Music Man"), and also to great teachers I had in school during my growing up years...Mrs. Reed had us memorize one poem per week in sixth grade, and Mrs. Distel introduced us to Shakespeare plays and sonnets along with contemporary literature. Plus, my work, as a choral conductor regularly includes in-depth examination of poetry set for chorus, including the Book of Psalms, works by Walt Whitman, Wilfred Owen, Goethe, Schiller and more.

I loved our studies of the poetry of Pessoa...written in the 20th century, each short work presented a time capsule of cultural history and attitudes that informed our understanding of Portugal to a very high degree. A relatively small country (about the size of Pennsylvania, though with fewer inhabitants), Portugal exerted profound influence through the seagoing explorations of the 15th century. Explorers such as Magellan and Vasco de Gama led expeditions across vast oceans, circumnavigating Africa, arriving in India and Brazil, among numerous other places. Though our view of expeditions like these is rightly changing, the impact they had both at home and abroad continues to reverberate to this day.

Portugal in the 20th century experienced much tumult, with the end of the monarchy, a short-lived republic, and the presence of dictatorial rule from the 1920s until the mid 70s. Pessoa lived during the early chapters of these turbulent years. His poems are gems that capture the zeitgeist of a culture, as the Portuguese, once a dominant world power, reflected on their current state of affairs.



One of the first poems we studied, "O dos castellos" ("The Two Castles"), takes inspiration from the national coat-of-arms, a graphic that features castles on a field of red, as seen in the center of the Portuguese flag. In English, the poems reads as follows:

Europe lies, reclining upon her elbows:
From East to West she stretches, staring,
And romantic tresses fall over
Greek eyes, reminding.

The left elbow is stepped back;
The other laid out at an angle.
The first says Italy where it leans;
This one England where, set afar,
The hand holds the resting face.

Enigmatic and fateful she stares
Out West, to the future of the past.

The staring face is Portugal.



Likening the European silhouette to a reclining figure, Pessoa continues the metaphor by his suggestion of Portugal as the figure's face. Staring oceanward Portugal gazes upon the watery expanses that once represented great fortune and promise. And, Pessoa infers, Europe's destiny may yet be found across that same vast ocean.

Each of the poems by Pessoa that we studied had a similar profound message...one that connected the present day to the past, and one that showed us an intriguing view of the culture and identity of our temporary home.



Thursday, January 2, 2020

Thinking About My Friend Joe

Happy New Year, friends! Having arrived safely in southern Brazil, I'm feeling pretty lucky to have a string of days with nothing on the calendar but for time with family and friends, walks with Rudy, naps, enjoying the beach and otherwise decompressing from what was an incredibly full and rewarding fall semester at home.

Today I'm thinking about a man I was lucky to call friend, colleague and mentor, especially in the few years between his arrival in Indianapolis and his untimely passing just about one year ago. It fact, it was in January of last year that his cancer diagnosis was made; just a few weeks later, he was gone.

Maestro Joe Flummerfelt, after our MESSIAH performance at the Palladium in December, 2018
Joe Flummerfelt was rightly a giant in the musical world. Masterful conductor, beloved teacher, and inspiring musician to all who passed through his orbit. To my great fortune I was one of those who knew and revered him, since my early musical days as a senior in Wabash College. And though I couldn't know it at the time, my early interactions with him meaningfully came full circle many years later.

With just over a semester left in my undergraduate career, one of my music professors, Jim Ure, suggested I consider Westminster Choir College for a Master's Degree in choral conducting. There, I would be under the tutelage of the College's director, Joseph Flummerfelt. My curiosity was piqued when Professor Ure told me of Joe's unorthodox approach to conducting patterns and gestures. I was even more intrigued upon learning Joe was a fellow Hoosier, born in Vincennes, and studied and taught at DePauw University before eventually landing in Princeton, NJ as the head of one of the most prestigious music schools anywhere.

So in February 1988, I hopped in my trusty Honda Civic and began the long drive from Crawfordsville, IN to Westminster, where I had been invited to audition. My day on the Westminster campus was a revelation. Having decided to focus seriously on music relatively late in the game (the end of my freshman year of college), I hadn't ever been anywhere so thoroughly populated by talented and eager musicians. I loved it. And I'll never forget the experience of getting to sit in on a rehearsal of the Westminster Symphonic Choir that morning, as they rehearsed Beethoven's Ninth Symphony for a performance with the New York Philharmonic. First, warmups, led by esteemed vocal pedagogue Frauke Haasemann. A legend in her own right, she vigorously, joyously put the choir through its paces. Nearly 200 singers in all, I had never heard such a sound. Simply incredible. Then it was Joe's turn. Watching him mold the group, encouraging their musicianship, their collective and synchronized breath, the commitment of the voice/heart/soul/being was astounding. I resolved right there that, if I were accepted at Westminster, that's where I would be going.

That afternoon was my audition. I stood before the Westminster Choir, about 50 singers, and led an excerpt from the Verdi "Stabat Mater" and several verses of a Brahms part-song. Those singers were so generous. Although I was intimidated starting out, it quickly became obvious they wanted to help me do the best I could. They responded to every gesture, from the slightest wiggle of my pinkie finger to the most subtly raised eyebrow. I was in heaven! Later, however, came the musicianship portion of the audition. Not quite as heavenly. A written exam, some aural dictation, and finally, a one-on-one interview with Professor Flummerfelt in his teaching studio. But, I did as well as I could. And though I was nervous to meet him face to face, Joe was kindly nurturing in his questions and conversation with me.

Then I waited. And waited. Checking the mailbox everyday, looking for an envelope that might contain an acceptance letter from Westminster. Weeks passed. Then a month, then two. Finally, I got my letter. But it wasn't the one I wanted...

Fast forward to six months later, October that same year. I was a first semester Master's Degree student in choral conducting at Indiana University. Having licked my wounds and gotten on with it, I was very happy in Bloomington, under the wise and caring wing of Professor Jan Harrington. Partway through the semester, it was announced that, because of the absence of Robert Porco during his sabbatical, they had engaged several outside conductors to come for short residencies at IU. The first was to be Joseph Flummerfelt, from Westminster Choir College. Small world!

During Joe's time at IU, he taught conducting classes, and spent one whole week working with University Singers, the amazing 40-voice choir I was lucky enough to have been invited to join. During Joe's work with our choir, he introduced us to a work that has become one of my lifelong favorites, "Ein deutsches Requiem" by Johannes Brahms. Singing that piece with him was foundational for me...his organic treatment of the phrases, how we sang the harmonies, the meanings of the words...what a gift! Although I was thrilled he was there, I was still feeling a little sheepish about being in the same room with him. Being the recipient of a rejection letter from Westminster Choir College, I didn't want to press my luck.

So I kept to myself that week, a choral wall-flower, soaking up the Maestro's wisdom from the periphery.

Then it happened. One day in rehearsal, he looked right at me, and I knew he remembered. I was even more nervous when later he caught me on my way out of rehearsal. "You auditioned for Westminster last winter, didn't you? I remember you!" he said. "If you have time, come see me after you get done with class today."

Two hours later, I was knocking at his door. "Come in!" he bellowed. He offered me a seat, and then began. "I wanted to tell you I remembered your audition, and that I was very impressed with your candidacy. You and I both come from small, liberal arts schools in Indiana. And you did a fine job in your conducting audition." Whew. "I think you were a little behind in the ear training and musicianship, but I'm sure you're already on your way to learning what you need to know." His words were so kind and reassuring. "In the end, it was really a tough call, but one that came down simply to how many students we could take in at one time. And it was a very large pool of applicants."

He went on. "I am so glad to know you are here at IU and working with Jan Harrington. I know you will have a wonderful experience, and that you will go on to do great things."

It took me a while to process all that he said. At first, it was surprising enough to think that he remembered me and my audition. But to have such a generous, kind-spirited conversation of encouragement really blew me away. As I have learned, that is just the kind of person he was. (And he was right about my experience at Indiana University, too. I ended up earning two graduate degrees there, where I had the great fortune of being taught by brilliant and effective artists including Jan Harrington, Robert Porco, Carmen Tellez and Tom Dunn.)

Big fast forward...probably more than 25 years, and I am teaching at Butler, and have been conductor of the Symphonic Choir for at least 10 years already, when I receive an invitation to join a select group of Indiana musicians and friends for a luncheon to welcome Joe upon his post-retirement relocation to Indianapolis. Having bought a condo not too far from Butler's campus, he would be our neighbor. The lunch was delightful. And though we hadn't seen each other in many years, he congratulated me on my success, and told me how proud he was to see how strong the Symphonic Choir had become. He would later repeat these remarks in a private lunch we had a year later. Sitting together at a small table at the Meridian restaurant, he returned to that Westminster audition day, now decades in the rear view mirror. "We don't always get every decision right."

It was my honor and joy to have Joe in attendance at so many of our ISC and Butler performances. He was always a true advocate for the choral art in any form, and made quite a wonderful impression upon my own students during a masterclass he gave at Butler. And backstage after so many concerts...Saint John Passion, Festival of Carols, Elijah, Messiah...he was usually first in line to offer one of his all-encompassing bear hugs.

I have been blessed to receive incredible teaching, mentoring and encouragement from so many, including dear Joe. And I know I'm not the only conductor reflecting on the one-year mark this month; just in Indianapolis I have many dear colleagues who worked much more closely with Joe than I did...how proud he was to see the incredible impact they are making in our community.

Though it's impossible to believe it's been nearly a year already, Joe is always close to my conducting, my teaching, my art. There's still sadness at the loss of one with so much yet to give, but there's even more gratitude at having had the opportunity to be his student, mentee and friend. While it didn't happen the way I might have predicted, I can't imagine it having been any more meaningful.


Wednesday, December 25, 2019

Merry Christmas, friends! Long time, no blog posts. But, that is about to change...call it a resolution for the coming new year.

As I write this post, I'm waiting at the airport to begin my journey from Indianapolis to southern Brazil, where I will be spending the next months as part of my Fulbright scholar activity during my sabbatical from Butler and the Indianapolis Symphonic Choir. While a lot of the specifics of my work are yet to be confirmed, I look forward to working with the students at the Federal University of Brazil in Rio Grande do Sul, located in the city of Porto Alegre. I anticipate we will be working together on conducting, rehearsals, concerts and who knows what else. For me right now, the details don't matter as much as the opportunity. One that I am super excited about for sure!

So, be sure to check back here for periodic updates, pictures, hopefully some video and the like. I'll usually post a link on Facebook when I have news to report, so that help people follow along.

It will be a blast to have you along with me for the ride. So for now, let me leave you with just a couple important Portuguese phrases: "Muito obrigado" (Many thanks) and "Feliz natal" (Merry Christmas)!!
Leading the Indianapolis Symphonic Choir, Indianapolis Chamber Orchestra, and soloists Michele McConnell and Dwayne McDevitt in "Boas Festas" at last weeks Festival of Carols performances