Starting a Listening Library
    Even the most modest high school includes a library where students can explore the boundaries of human learning, experience, and creativity. Why is it that most high school music programs lack a music library where students can go have the same experiences in the musical realm?
    It is simple to begin a small library in the music department or even as part of the main school library. Involve students in the planning process so that they are invested in the library, have input in the selection of music, and will be excited to use the library once it is established. A library can be stocked with music donated by the students, parents, friends of the school, or local musicians who have extra recordings of a particular piece and would like to see them used and enjoyed. The library should represent many genres, including jazz, blues, rock, symphonic band, brass chamber music, big band, and classical music of every period (Renaissance, baroque, classical, romantic, and modern). The musical library can also include scores of the music the students are currently playing in band, as well as scores for some of the CDs in the library. Most students have never seen a score before, and will gain sophistication as they begin to understand the layout of the score, follow the music they are hearing, and learn the meaning of performance markings they have not seen before.

Structured Listening Assignments
    Directors may find it useful to require that students to sign up for two time slots during which they will listen to their contest or all-state audition music as part of their required band assignments. While some students may do this on their own, setting the requirement ensures that each student has this valuable experience, and it may be a nice opportunity for them to interact with the director before or after school.
    During class, encourage students to develop their own music library, whether in cd or mp3 format. Because students are probably already developing a library of popular music, it is relatively easy and cheap for them to diversify into styles of music that are relevant for their instrument.

Inspiring Performances
    Recordings are useful, but there is absolutely no substitute for attending a performance. The immediacy of watching the players on stage lends an energy to the musical experience that just cannot be matched through a set of ear buds. When students hear live music, you can almost feel the electricity from them. They get excited, nervous, and anxious to watch someone else do what they do but at a high level. Arrange field trips for students to see a symphony orchestra, a college concert or marching band, jazz bands, mariachi bands, or even a drum corps contest.
    Establish a fund to bring groups into the school, performing either for the band classes or for the school as a whole. Various organizations may offer educational programming that is either partially or fully underwritten by government cultural-education dollars.
    A performance can also occur in the classroom. Ask your private teachers to play in all the students’ lessons as much as possible. This serves as a concrete model for the students, as well as a constant source of inspiration. In addition, music students from a local university would be happy to have a chance to perform their recital program as a dry run, and your students will get to meet a player at a level between themselves and the professional world. The opportunity can be set up through the private teacher at the university, who will appreciate students having the opportunity to gain performance experience.
    It will also be invaluable to bring in a professional musician to give a recital and master class for the students. The students will gain confidence in interacting with another professional, as well as useful tips and experience from a teacher other than their primary lesson teacher. The whole experience will encourage your students to take themselves seriously as musicians, not only in the band context but as future adults in the larger musical world.   

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Reed Case
    A bassoon player needs a safe place to store those expensive reeds. A bassoon reed case must not be airtight; if it is, the reeds will mold. The reed case must also offer some way to stabilize the reeds; if reeds are free to move around in the case, they will crack or chip. There are many cases on the market, some of which are quite expensive for student use. I recommend a wood case with additional holes drilled in it for maximum ventilation. If that is impossible, an inexpensive plastic case with plastic mandrels for the reeds is fine, provided someone punches holes in it with a hammer and a nail. An old mint tin with holes punched in it is another good option, but be careful of sharp metal edges. A cardboard jewelry box is also an excellent inexpensive option. I line them with a few paper towels to prevent the reeds from moving around. The worst option is to keep storing the reed in the small plastic tube that it arrived in. At the very least punch some holes in the tube before giving the reed to a student.

Water Cup
    A bassoon reed should be completely soaked through before it is played; saliva is not enough. That said, a water cup is not an accessory I recommend because few students are diligent enough to refresh the water daily; many students fill the cup with water and then leave it full in the case. This makes a great breeding ground for bacteria, and students also run the risk of the cup opening by accident and damaging the bassoon. If a cup does not have a lid, a bassoonist will have to fill it each time before playing. This is better than a vial of stale water in the case, although there is a danger the cup will be kicked over, spilling water all over the band room floor.
    As an alternative, have your bassoonist take a reed to the nearest sink and run it under water with the knot end up. Doing this with the tip end up could damage the tip if the water pressure is high. Then, have the student set the wet reed on the music stand or in another safe place. By the time the student has assembled the bassoon and collected their music the reed will be sufficiently soaked to play. The only problem with this method is if the student sits for 20 minutes or more without playing, the reed may dry out, and another trip to the sink will be needed. 

Bocals
    The most expensive part of the bassoon, the bocal is responsible for much of the tone quality. Professional bassoon players spend a long time and considerable money looking for the perfect bocal, much as clarinet players compare barrels, mouthpieces, and ligatures. If you are fortunate enough to have a new instrument for your student to use, the instrument probably came with great bocals. If you are dealing with old instruments, a new bocal could completely change the sound of the instrument for the better and is the best upgrade possible for an old bassoon. The bocal should not be put in place until the student is seated and ready to play. When a student is carrying a bassoon, the bocal should be out of the wing joint and placed gently in the bell, and when a student is not playing, the bassoon should be held in such a way as to protect the bocal. If the instrument is held so the bocal and reed extend over the shoulder, there is risk that another student walking behind them will accidentally hit them.
    Bocals will have a number stamped on them, and a higher number indicates a longer the bocal. For example, if you find your bassoon player consistently plays sharp with a 2 bocal, change the bocal from a 2 to a 3.
    Bocals with a dent or ding will not play properly. In addition, the dent could be causing debris to collect in the bocal creating a poor sound, a haven for bacteria, or both. Bocals should be cleaned regularly. A long craft pipe cleaner with dish soap does the job. There is also a small bocal brush on the market specifically for this task. Cork can be repeatedly replaced on a bocal, but cracks are often not worth the expense of repairing, especially on student-model bocals.

Seat Strap
    A leather seat strap with a nice S-hook is preferred. The leather cup that fits over the bottom of the instrument is often too large and interferes with the keys at the bottom of the boot joint. If this leather cup is your only option, take a sharp pair of scissors and cut a gentle curve into the cup to accommodate the keys. In a pinch, try an old shoulder strap from a duffle bag or a keyring in the hole on the bottom of the boot joint if the hook doesn’t fit. The seat strap need not be adjustable with a buckle and holes like a belt. Students can raise and lower the strap under the legs as needed.

Hand Rest
    The hand rest has a curved shape and a post that should insert into a bracket on the side of the boot joint. Students with small hands will not need the hand rest, and in some cases I completely remove the bracket as well, so students do not rest their hands on the bracket, which is held on with a few small screws. A student with larger hands might find the hand rest helpful. The post can always be cut down to make the hand rest shorter, thus putting the hand closer to the tone holes and keys.

Swabs
    Ideally the bassoon should have two swabs: a wing joint swab with a weight on one end and a boot joint swab with a small chain at one end. Usually these styles of swabs are cotton, but a silk swab can also be used. Typically a silk swab has a chain at one end and can be used for both the wing joint and the boot joint. As with all conical instruments, the swab is placed into the larger end first. The wing joint is just like swabbing a clarinet or oboe, but the boot joint requires slightly more skill. The chain end should be placed in the larger of the two bores. Then, turn the joint around, causing the chain to make a U-turn in the bottom of the boot joint. With a little shake, the swab should exit the smaller of the two joints. Pull the swab through to clean the boot joint completely. The wing joint and the boot joint are the only two joints that regularly come in contact with water. The wing joint is the smallest bore and the most likely to develop a build-up of debris if not regularly cleaned. The boot joint won’t develop a build-up, but excess moisture will cause pads to stick. Cotton swabs should be washed occasionally. They can go in the washing machine and they will need to be untangled after the cycle. Usually silk swabs come with instructions for hand washing. Long cleaning swabs are not recommended. Like any other woodwind instrument, the bassoon should be swabbed every time it is played.

     Although the bassoon has an extraordinary number of accessories, having every instrument case stocked with these supplies will make your life and the life of your bassoon players easier.

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Training Exercise 4 Reversed
    In Elizabeth Green’s The Modern Conductor, the second part of the fourth training exercise is to move the right arm through the horizontal plane and the left arm through the vertical plane. Start with this exercise as Green indicates; once you feel each arm is independent, shift to a time-beating gesture in the right hand. Make sure the left arm continues to follow the smooth vertical plane as the gesture in the right hand changes.
    Once I am happy with this second step, I start to explore different planes with my left arm. Use the vertical plane, the horizontal plane, and any and all diagonal planes. By exploring all the spaces the left arm can use, you will continue to reinforce independence between arms.

Move Joints Separately
    Developing as a conductor in graduate school was exciting and challenging. I remember finishing rehearsals being pleased, thinking that I had conducted predominantly from my wrist joint. I was always disappointed afterwards when I watched the video, which showed most of my motion coming from the elbow joint. Now, I frequently remind myself and my students, that small, economical gestures can be much more effective than large gestures. This exercise is designed to help isolate different joints.
    Set a metronome to a slow tempo (72 is a good starting point), and conduct a one-beat-per-bar beat pattern with a baton. For the first four counts, move only from the wrist, then the next four counts from the elbow, and another four counts from the shoulder. I then continue with the exercise in reverse, finishing back with the wrist. As you move to the bigger joints, avoid locking the smaller ones. For example, your wrist shouldn’t be stiff when your elbow is moving. This exercise should not be done too quickly; shoulder movements at a fast tempo are difficult to control effectively.
    The next step is to vary the articulation style of each beat. Wrist gestures can be more staccato, while shoulder gestures will naturally become more legato. This exercise should improve the ability to show soft and light, which is most easily shown from the writst. It also helps avoid the slowdown that comes with increasingly large beat patterns.

Varying Articulations
    Given that we want students to use different articulations and note lengths based on the composer’s instructions, we should also reproduce these effects in our conducting. For this exercise, access to a mirror is helpful.
    Begin conducting a common time pattern, alternating measures of staccato and legato. Focus on showing the different beat styles clearly through gesture. From common time, change to triple time and then duple time. Green recommends telegraphing a style change during the preparatory gesture for the first sound in the new style; the change between legato and staccato over the barline in measure one should be shown in the rebound/preparatory gesture between beat four and one.

    Try adding other articulation patterns as well. Conducting tenuto instead of legato or accents instead of staccato provide an extra level of challenge. If you have a colleague at your school, work together. Do the exercise but repeat measure one multiple times before moving to the staccato in measure two. Make sure your colleague can easily understand your gesture and can sing the note lengths and styles accurately as you make the transition.

Changing Meter Exercises
    Regardless of the difficulty of our ensemble’s music, an internal sense of pulse can never be too strong. I begin by writing a short passage including a variety of meters. Depending on your skill level, you may want to start with simple meters (2/4, 3/4, or 4/4), or a variety of compound (6/8, 9/8, or 128) and simple meters. When you are comfortable swapping between compound and simple, add in some 2 + 3 compound meters, such as the 58 measure in the example below.

    To conduct these exercises, I set my metronome to constant eighth notes; a good starting point is 240 eighth notes per minute. Try conducting the quarter note beats with mostly wrist and the dotted quarter note beats with mostly elbow movement. If you are working with a colleague, see if he can read the subdivisions without knowing your pattern by subdividing audibly. If you are working alone, you could try filming the pattern and then do the subdivision yourself while watching the video. Once you feel comfortable, try conducting your daily pattern without the metronome and see if you can hold a steady pulse throughout.

What Five Minutes Cannot Fix
    Although these four quick exercises help improve conducting gestures, listening and diagnostic skills are more difficult to address in a daily five-minute session. To work on this aspect of your conducting, make sure you are listening to and making high-quality music as often as possible. I like to go to my local professional orchestra and listen to concerts on the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra’s Digital Concert Hall throughout the school year. Also, join an ensemble that performs at a high level. I always strive to be the best musician possible; I believe being a good trumpet player still helps me be a good conductor.
    In addition, make sure to listen to your ensemble outside of rehearsal. A daily commute can be an excellent time to do this. High-quality audio recorders are reasonably inexpensive; record rehearsals. Listening back helps make apparent things that were missed during rehearsal.
    Finally, make sure to videotape yourself on the podium regularly. Watching a video of oneself leading a rehearsal can be an eye-opening experience, considering that someone’s mental picture of our podium presence can be different from reality, but it can be a rewarding experience as well. Having the opportunity to see your gestures and hear your teaching explanations is vital to continued development.

    Find five minutes to put aside each day to work on your conducting. Great conducting might not help trumpet players remember the fingering for G# or help violinists remember whether to use a high or low second finger, but it will help us continue to refine our repertoire of gestures. Surely that, along more efficient and effective rehearsals, is worth the time.

The post Five-Minute Conducting Gesture Workout appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

    On May 11, 2016, at Hemmens Auditorium in Elgin, Illinois, I witnessed one of the most thrilling and rewarding experiences of my musical life. After 34 years as an extraordinary music educator, Mark Bettcher conducted his final concert before retiring from Dundee-Crown High School. As he took his first few steps from the wings onto the stage, 1,000 people rose in unison and gave him an outpouring of love and respect rarely seen or felt. This was a whole community of current and former students, parents, and followers of this man’s career saying thanks.
     I first met Mark in the fall of 1980 when he became my teaching assistant at Northern Illinois University. He was a wonderful trombonist and a fine composer and arranger. At least once a year for all 34 years of Mark’s teaching career, I observed him working with his students. I was constantly blown away, not only by his musical expertise, but with his rapport and communication skills with all age groups.
     Mark’s development of the orchestra program was ever present when at this final concert his freshman concert orchestra performed Saint-Saëns’s Bacchanale from Samson and Delilah. His top orchestra performed Verdi’s La Forza Del Destino overture, Pavane by Faure, and the Fourth Movement of Dvorák’s New World Symphony.
    I recently sat down with Mark Bettcher to review his remarkable legacy and find out how he succeeded in so many areas of music education.

How prepared did you feel as you began your first teaching job?
    My plan was to move to New York and play for a living, so when my wife wisely suggested that I take a teaching position so we could save some money for the move, I accepted a job teaching elementary band. Most  of my music education degree was geared toward teaching high school. It had been several years since I took instrumental methods, so I was woefully unprepared to teach all of the instruments to beginning band students. Fortunately, I was directed to a wonderful teacher in the same school district named Thom Robertson. One of the reasons I have always been a preparation guy is because of the two weeks I spent with Thom before school started. He gave me a good idea of what to expect and how to prepare, and also shared valuable supplemental materials for the various instruments. I am forever grateful for his wisdom, mentorship, and gracious willingness to help a clueless rookie.
    My first group lesson was held in the boiler room of Kings Road Elementary School. There were 15 5th graders eager to receive their rental clarinets and a lesson on how to play. I passed out the instruments the music vendor delivered that morning and asked the students to put their cases on their laps. I then said, “everyone open up your case.” Suddenly there were clarinet parts all over the floor. Over half of the students had their cases upside down so we spent the rest of the lesson sorting things out. Needless to say I was frustrated at the time, but looking back it was a very valuable lesson for me. I realized preparation is key, and that you could never be prepared enough.
 
After two years of teaching 5th grade band you were assigned to Carpentersville Middle School, where you taught strings and jazz band. What were the challenges you faced?
    The first challenge I was given was to grow a string program in an economically challenged school that the administration was threatening to cut due to low numbers of students. When I arrived there were 12 to 15 students who were embarrassed to play in front of their peers. If you only have a dozen players on rental quality instruments it is going to be a thin sounding group no matter how well they play. I had to get the numbers up quickly so the group sounded full and we could justify keeping the program. It didn’t take long. I worked really hard to recruit string players from the elementary schools. I did everything feasible to get kids to play strings.
    The second challenge was that I was not a string player and had little time to prepare. The job included the middle school and three feeder elementary schools, so I needed to become literate quickly to teach beginning strings. Once again, I went to a friend who was a great violinist and teacher at a nearby school. Gerry Romack was a lifesaver and helped me immensely. Gerry alleviated some of my anxiety regarding the string world (which I continued in for 32 years) when he explained that although I couldn’t play string instruments proficiently, all of the tenets of great string playing are readily observable. There are no abstractions as there can be with a wind instrument where you are trying to find out what is going on in someone’s body. Tone production, technique, and dexterity are the keys. Gerry provided me a solid foundation about correct posture and string pedagogy. All I had to do was pass this valuable information along and insist that my students comply.

How did you decide on repertoire for your string players?
    Repertoire is key for building technique. In Carpentersville back then there were no Suzuki programs feeding into the schools. After research and consultation with colleagues, I determined the skills I wanted my sixth grade violinists to have. I wanted them to play in first and third position accurately with a solid left hand position comfortable enough to begin playing with vibrato. I wanted them to have a solid bow hold flexible enough to play with a strong sound and also off the string. I looked for pieces that required those skills, great pieces of music that also facilitated learning.

How did you and John Gorman divide up your work over the years at Carpentersville Middle School and Dundee-Crown High School?
    John (Doc) Gorman is a fantastic teacher, excellent musician, and great friend. We have sharply contrasting personalities that meshed together really well. Our strengths and weaknesses are perfectly different, but we share a common belief in doing whatever is best for students. We had an immediate feel for what we were doing.
    Carpentersville Middle School did not have a jazz band before I arrived so Doc and I started one. We had a great time starting at zero. The first year we didn’t have a drum set player in the entire school. I can still see Doc sitting on the floor working the feet of one of my cellists who volunteered to give it a try. It was a great learning experience. When team teaching the jazz band we had our roles that worked extremely well. Doc is a great trumpet player and transposer, so he played along with the trumpets, trombones and saxophones while I ran rehearsals. Those middle school bands played with such a mature feel because they had a great aural example coming from Doc that gave life to the verbal instruction. He is also fantastic with technology and sound reinforcement, so we always had professional level equipment.
    We decided together that a healthy instrumental program would have about 2⁄3 band students and 1⁄3 orchestra. It is bit more orchestra heavy now, but the notion that we decided things together is just one example of how our relationship was never competitive. We always considered how to help each other, which directly benefited our students. I cannot tell you how valuable that true sense of teamwork is. It is so rare to go into a school or department and really feel that. In too many places everybody does their own thing. When you work together you can be twice as effective for students.

In my experience in hundreds of clinics, I found that ensemble playing was often stronger than the improvisation. Discuss your unique approach to teaching improvisation.
    I agree that ensemble playing is way ahead of improvisation. I had a real epiphany about teaching improvisation a few years ago. After attending a clinic by the great electric bassist Victor Wooten, I decided that if I really believed that jazz was a language, my approach missed the boat. First, I had to identify my target audience. The reality is that a high percentage of our students are predominantly visual learners. Most of what they are exposed to in school is completely counterintuitive to learning aurally. There are no sections on the ACT test that measure the ability of students to mimic, memorize, process, and manipulate aural information. Since the education community has completely bought into standardized tests as a measuring stick for success, our core curriculum is designed to develop reading expertise while aural skills are seriously neglected.
    How is it that many of our children become relative language virtuosos by age four while very few students become fluent in either foreign language or jazz improvisation from studying in school? The most obvious answer is immersion. Infants learn to communicate because they are completely surrounded by language and require a certain mastery to fulfill basic needs. The plight of foreign language and jazz educators is that it is impossible to create total immersion in a school. While none of us can mandate that students immerse themselves in the jazz language, I developed some effective language-based strategies and activities that facilitate fast and relatively stress-free results for visual learners. These positive initial experiences with improvisation have motivated a greater percentage of my students to surround themselves with a steady diet of listening to the jazz masters and copying, memorizing, processing, and manipulating. They learn the language in an authentic way.
    One of the most important components is choosing the right songs for early improvisers. Most of the jazz aids use songs like Impressions or So What for beginners because the harmony is relatively static. The idea is that fewer chords makes it easier. My contention is that when the harmony is static the improviser must generate all of the development and movement. Mastery of the scales or modes used in these tunes is essential before students can execute developmental soloing. Most early improvisers are not fluent enough with scales and modes to construct coherent solos, so they become frustrated or embarrassed because they are initially unsuccessful. This makes them significantly less likely to pursue the jazz language at its source.
    Carefully chosen songs based on chord changes that move more frequently provide a directional framework that can help young improvisers develop coherent improvised solos relatively easily. Guide tones are the notes that form the basic sound quality of a particular chord. They are always the third and seventh but frequently in jazz (especially bebop) may also include other chord tones (b5, #5, b9, #9). Joe Henderson’s Recorda Me is an excellent song to illustrate using guide tones to provide a simple descending line that students can use to develop solos. I construct a visual aid (guide tone sheet) starting on either the third or the seventh of the first chord in the last eight bars of the song that creates a chromatically descending whole note melody that really defines the harmony of that section of the tune.

    Embellishing one note per bar with stylistically appropriate rhythm and articulation reduces the amount of information, simplifies the process, and facilitates virtually instant success. I have found that initial success with jazz improvisation makes it much more likely that the students will learn the language authentically by immersing themselves and listening.

How do you explain the effect that your program had on the entire community?
    One of the many things I learned from you is the importance of enlisting the people around you and developing a true sense of community to maximize your resources. We frequently brought in guest artists and the Northern Illinois University jazz ensemble, and we hosted a jazz festival every year. These became big community events and attracted other folks who were altruistic enough to help. I have brought in all sorts of private teachers to give private lessons at much less than they would typically charge. The impact of that and also playing 40 or 50 events each year with the jazz ensemble and many more with the chamber orchestra gave us a place in the community.

What is an average day like at Dundee-Crown?
    I usually arrive between 6:00 and 6:15. It is my only time to practice. After I check email, I get into my warm-up routine. I might work on a piece that I am writing or play as students filter in. It is a good for students to see that I am still passionate about playing music. After that, I might go down to the middle school before my first orchestra, and work with the two jazz bands. I make an appearance so those students all know me.
    The first class that I teach is freshman orchestra, which lasts 45 minutes. That is followed immediately by my top jazz band. Then I have my top orchestra. I team teach the second orchestra, which directed by my associate. I might run a sectional during that. I will go down and help the band director, Melissa Aukes, who is also a former student of mine, with her second band. By then it is about 2:30 and time for lunch. After school there is usually some sort of jam session, or there will be rehearsals during musical season. Over the years I never taught less than 60 hours a week and in April and May, the total is 70 to 80. My day is kinetic and busy, but it is never work. It is who I am.

Now that you have semi-retired, what are your plans?
    This first year I am working as a music teacher coach throughout the district. I will work up to 100 days. Anything that someone wants me to work on with them, I will. If they want me to work with their students, I will. Teachers can request help with something like jazz improvisation, and I can set up a program to work with them for several days. I am excited about that.
    I am working on a textbook that has a lot of the jazz improv exercises that I use. I have written 12 original songs based on the movie Casablanca that I am working with a collaborator to flesh out into a musical. I also have enough original material that I have written for a couple of CDs. Even in retirement, I expect to stay busy.

* * *

Mark Bettcher’s Final Concert

Jazz Ensemble I
Corner Pocket by Freddie Green
Groovin’ High by Dizzy Gillespie/Mark Taylor
Little Gus by Paul McKee
I’ve Got You Under My Skin by Cole Porter/Mark Taylor
Strap Hangin’ by Michael Brecker/Vince Mendoza
I’ve Gotta Right to Sing the Blues by Harold Arlen/trans. Jeff Lindberg
Friends Again by Lanny Morgan
Salt Peanuts by Dizzy Gillespie/Mark Taylor

Intermission

Concert Orchestra
Bacchanale from Samson and Delilah by Saint-Saëns/Isaac

Symphonic Orchestra
Finale from 5th Symphony by Beethoven/Woodhouse

Chamber Orchestra
La Forza Del Destino Overture by Guiseppe Verdi
Pavane by Gabriel Faure
Symphony No. 9 “From the New World” Op. 95
by Antonin Dvorák
IV. Finale

The post Legacy of Perfection, A Conversation with Mark Bettcher appeared first on The Instrumentalist.

Ray Cramer, Past President of the Midwest Clinic and Emeritus Professor, Indiana University Jacobs School of Music

James Barnes, Professor Emeritus, University of Kansas
    I think this year will be my 40th or 41st trip to Chicago for Midwest. I have so many fond memories of this convention, both personal things and performances over the years, that it is difficult to single out any one, so here are a few anecdotes.
    In 1972, Bob Foster came to KU as Director of Bands. He recommended that I go to Midwest to make personal connections with publication editors, which, by the way, ended up being a very good move.
    We took the Lone Star Limited to Chicago from Lawrence. This was my first opportunity to meet Vince DiNino and his wife. They had taken the train from Austin, Texas, where DiNino had served so long as the Director of the Longhorn Band. We stayed at the old Bismarck Hotel, just down the street from the Sherman House, which was where the convention was still held. As I recall, it cost $30 a night, and we thought we were being robbed.
    If you think Mid­west was crowded at the Hilton, you should have seen it at the Sherman House. Holy smoke, you could barely move! I may be wrong about this, but, as I recall, 1972 was the last year that the convention was held at the Sherman House. Someone told me that right after Midwest, they tore the old hotel down and built a parking lot on that site. That wouldn’t have been hard to do: I think you could have kicked one brick out of the old Sherman House wall and then the whole thing would have collapsed.
    I remember that one day I went to lunch at a little sandwich shop next to the Bismarck. I don’t remember what I ordered, but I asked for a Dr. Pepper. The waitress looked over her glasses in disgust and then said, “This is Chicaaago, honey; we don’t have Doctah Peppah in Chicaaago!” (Sure enough, in those days Dr. Pepper was still a regional brand of soft drink.)
    About the third or fourth time I went to Midwest, I saw Dick Bennett, a KU grad and regional salesman for H.N. White (King was a separate brand of instruments back then.) He gave me an extra ticket for the Chicago Symphony. I’ll never forget that program: Mendelssohn’s Fingal’s Cave, Bartòk’s First Piano Concerto (with Daniel Barenboim as soloist) and Richard Strauss’s Don Quixote, all conducted by Sir Georg Solti. In any person’s life, there are a few concerts that one never forgets. This was one I will always remember.
    Several years later, I was taking the elevator down to the Ballroom Level at the Hilton when the door opened at some floor and a small, dapper man dressed in white tie and tails walked on to the elevator. I was so stunned that it took me a few moments to gather the courage to scoot over and say, “You’re Morton Gould, and I may never get another chance to shake your hand!” Of course, over the years, I did get to see him on numerous occasions. We became friends. He was a wonderful, witty man, certainly one of the finest band composers who has ever lived.
    I remember so many overpriced breakfasts at the Hilton, where I visited from time to time with Frederick Fennell, Vaclav Nelhybel, Harry Begian, Alfred Reed, Frank Erickson, Francis McBeth, Victor Zajec, and my old friend and fellow Jayhawk, Claude T. Smith. I think back fondly on those times since none of these great men are with us anymore. I was the new kid on the block back then; now, I’m an old geezer who is just trying to hang on.
    As usual, I’m taking Amtrak up to Chicago in December. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It’s always so nice to see old friends and former students and also to meet bright young people who are just getting into the music business.To realize that I have been to more than half of the Midwest conventions ever held is a tad daunting. I don’t know whether to smile with pride or become depressed due to my advanced age.

Terry Austin, Virginia Commonwealth University
    I first attended the Midwest Clinic in 1981. I was a doctoral student at the University of Wisconsin, and I drove down from Madison with a friend. As many people find out during their first Midwest, I knew very few people initially. Since that time I have only missed the clinic twice – once because I was moving to a new house, and the second time because I was in Japan guest conducting. I have many Midwest memories, and they are all good ones. It is difficult to isolate one memory especially since there are so many different kinds of memories. Some are simply all of the many friends I have made throughout the years. Some are from presenting clinics, and guest conducting. Some are from the many meetings that I have attended over the years. Some are from concerts and sessions. All have left their imprint on me in one way or another.
    I think that an experience from last year may be the one that stands out the most. I was honored to be asked, along with Jay Gephart, to moderate a session entitled “A Conversation With Ray Cramer”. Ray has played, and continues to play, a huge role in my life as well as Jay’s. So it was very humbling to be in that role. We planned the session to draw the best memories from him but also to honor his many achievements by asking specific questions about his distinguished career. The room filled quickly and it was obvious that this was going to be a friendly and well-received session. Clearly there was a lot of love for Ray Cramer. It was really enjoyable looking at the faces of the people in attendance as Ray shared stories and experiences. The time went by far too quickly and the session was soon over.
    Shortly after we finished I asked his wife Molly if she and Ray were planning to attend the CBDNA meeting that was being held immediately afterwards. She said, “No I don’t think we were planning to attend that. Should we?” I was almost certain that Ray was going to be presented with the CBDNA Lifetime Achievement Award at the meeting, and I was surprised that they did not know to attend. As it turned out they had not seen any of the emails asking for them to be there. I told her I thought that it might be a good idea to go to the meeting. I was delighted that he went because his award was announced in the last part of the meeting, and he got to be there for it. Having the chance to be part of two different events in a short span of time at Midwest that honored my friend and mentor is a very special Midwest memory for me.

Quincy Hilliard, University of Louisiana at Lafayette
    My greatest memory of Midwest was meeting Francis McBeth. His work Masque inspired me to become a composer. My composition teacher, Jared Spears, introduced me to the work and spoke of Francis often in our private lessons. I knew that they were great friends. The first time I ever saw Francis, he was walking down one of the aisles at the convention visiting other booths and talking to people. I decided to stalk him. After about the third aisle, I was afraid that he might see me and think that I was trying to rob him so I stopped. I was so excited, that I called home to tell my wife that I saw Mr. McBeth. She asked, “Did you talk to him?” I said no, he would not have time for me. He is too important. She said, “Why don’t you go up and introduce yourself?” I was so excited that I did not sleep that night. I was planning how I would approach him. Finally, the next day I went up and introduce myself and told him that I was one of Jared Spears’s students. He laughed and said, “I am sorry you did not have a better composition teacher, young man.” He talked to me for about an hour, and every time I saw him after that, he would come up and talk with me. On one occasion when I was in Arkansas, he invited me to his home and showed me his woodworking workshop and his classic car collection. He was a great composer and an awesome person. I will never forget the talks we had about composers, conductors, and composition.

Mark Camphouse, composer and conductor, George Mason University
    Perfection in musical performance is something that is very rarely achieved. But the performance of Jim Curnow’s excellent arrangement of John Williams’s Liberty Fanfare by the Fukuoka Technical University High School Concert Band led by their brilliant conductor, Takayoshi Suzuki, during the 1987 Midwest Clinic did, in my view, achieve astonishing perfection. Particularly mem­orable was the very first chord heralded by the brass section of that outstanding en­semble. So amazing was its resonance, nobility of tone, intonation, balance, and precision of attack that there was an immediate and audible gasp from the audience. It rivaled the sound of many of America’s finest professional orchestral brass sections. Attendees of that magnificent performance still talk about it after nearly 30 years.
    On a more personal level, I always looked forward to having a wide ranging annual conversation with the late W. Francis McBeth at the Southern Music booth in the basement exhibit hall area of the Hilton Hotel. I dearly miss those very enjoyable and informative conversations with him. Francis was a great teacher and storyteller. His keen wit, intellect, warm personal qualities, and substantial creative and educational contributions to our profession remain truly special to me. It was an honor to have Francis and my dear friend Frank Ticheli join me as co-authors and clinicians in a 2002 Midwest Clinic presentation of volume one of my book series, Composers on Composing for Band.

Roy C. Holder, Lake Braddock Secondary School (ret.)
    In attempting to answer the question concerning my greatest Midwest memory, I could discuss a memorable moment from one of the Lake Braddock Midwest concerts I conducted or one of the tremendous supportive audience responses to those performances. I could remember a set of students whose hard work made presenting such a concert possible. Maybe I could discuss one of clinics I was privileged to present or someone who afterwards asked really intriguing questions as they tried to learn as much as possible that would help them be successful. It was amazing to see the huge line of people waiting in line for one of our concerts was amazing.
    It was unreal to see Fredrick Fennell, during one of our Midwest rehearsals, run across the room, grab a drumstick, and begin to pound the daylights out of a suspended cymbal while emphatically insisting, “You have to really hit it hard,” as we completed a run of his setting of Wedding Dance. I also recall our not quite two-year-old daughter saying very loudly during a John Paynter/Northshore Concert Band teaching clinic, “Those flutes are too loud!” Of course, Mr. Paynter’s smiling response when my wife apologized and offered to take her out was that the child was right and that if we could not have kids involved there was something wrong with what we were doing. (He did go on to joke that the timing of her response was probably bad parenting.)
    It would be easy to choose the first time that Harry Begian or one of the other icons of the business when I was younger called me by name in the hall of the Hilton, and I realized they not only knew who I was, but that they would take the time to talk to a young teacher trying to learn how to do high-quality work.
    Of course, there is sitting in concerts and clinics given by amazing people from a wide variety of backgrounds and interests from around the world or visiting an exhibit hall that always reminds me just how many aspects and types of opportunities our profession offers. Then there is just seeing old friends and meeting both true experts in various aspects of our profession and the energetic young teachers who are our future. Which brings us back to the original question – it is the people who are my favorite memory of all these Midwest Clinics. Associating with the huge number of people who believe so strongly in the importance of teaching music is what I remember and look forward to every year. Those people who are willing to go to great lengths and spend a considerable amount of time and money in the effort to share what they have learned while they learn as much as possible from others are the cornerstone of the Midwest experience. From concerts to clinics to exhibits and even necessary meetings, there is nothing quite like the annual rejuvenation of participating in the Midwest Clinic with so many people who are there to share and enjoy this great profession.  
   
Tom Lizotte, Cape Elizabeth High School (Maine)
    I have attended Midwest since 1989, but my first lasting memory was in 1992 hearing the Duncanville, Texas band perform Andrew Boysen’s I Am. The concert was in the main ballroom of the Hilton, the band was exquisite in a piece new to me, and I left the concert shaken, with tears in my eyes.
    Midwest can’t be limited to a single memory. Each year has its own. Here are a few more:

• Frederick Fennell in his career recollection – no notes, no ums or ahhs, and perfect recall of 50 years of music making.
• Sitting between Clare Grundman and Alfred Reed at a concert.
• Seeing Ryan Kisor as a high school student performing with Wynton Marsalis.
• Arturo Sandoval with a great Texas high school band.
• Rich Matteson and his great band.
• Seeing John Paynter, Ray Cramer, and Harry Begian in action.
• Tony Garcia working magic with two middle school novice improvisers.
• George Parks and 30 UMass alumni at the Italian Village celebrating the marching band’s winning the Sudler Trophy.
• The poignancy of the first Midwest after Mr. Paynter’s and Barb Buelhman’s passing.
• H. Robert Reynolds, any year.
• My first time at the Berghoff.

Brian Anderson, Fremont High School (Nebraska, retired)
    I have so many fond memories of The Midwest Clinic over the years that it is difficult for me to choose just one. Some personal favorites include concerts in the Grand Ballroom of the Hilton, the Midnight Special sessions, and, of course, visiting with colleagues from all over the world. One special memory was when Fred Fennell not only autographed my newly purchased full score to Lincolnshire Posy (which he had recently edited), he asked if I would like to sit down and go through some aspects of the piece, which was a genuine treat. Perhaps my favorite memory would be the Saturday morning of the 1999 clinic. Eric Whitacre and I sat down at the grand piano in the Hilton lobby (up the stairs from the Christmas Tree), and he played the musical ideas he had written that would eventually become his piece October. I was mesmerized by the beautiful and expressive music he had created and the tender loving care with which he played it. The music gave me chills then, and it continues to give me chills every time I hear the piece.

Dennis Zeisler, Old Dominion University
    I have attended the Midwest Clinic for 30 years and defining my greatest Midwest memory is difficult. Every part of the Midwest Clinic has helped me as a teacher, performer, and conductor, but there are three events that meant so much to me.
    In 2004 and 2012, the Virginia Wind Symphony, the adult group I conduct, was selected to perform at the Midwest Clinic. I was so excited for the group, many of whom had never been to Midwest. In 2015, I guest conducted Karel Husa’s Music for Prague with the United States Navy Band. As a student at Michigan and a member of the Symphony Band, I performed the piece almost one hundred times with William D. Revelli and at least twice with Karel Husa. It was such a thrill to conduct the piece at the Midwest Clinic to a capacity house. Lastly, in 2012, I was asked to join the Midwest Clinic Board of Directors, a group I have so much respect and admiration for. I have been part of the 70th Anniversary planning committee and know that this years’s Midwest will be the best yet.

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    My most memorable experience from the Midwest Clinic had its roots in an event that occurred in my college years and culminated in one 15-minute conversation in the exhibit area of the Hilton Hotel in 1994.
    Like a number of small colleges in the Midwest, the Central Methodist Band always had a spring tour, usually consisting of seven days of travel with three concerts a day at schools or churches. In the fall of 1965, our band director an­nounced that we would have a guest composer traveling with us on the upcoming spring tour. His name was Vaclav Nehlybel, and he would be conducting two of his recent works, Trittico and Chorale.
    Two days before tour, Vaclav Nehlybel walked into our band hall, stepped on the podium, lifted his arms . . . and as I watched that first slashing downbeat of the baton, I had my first realization of how personal music could be. In that one electrifying instant, I saw brutality, beauty, angst, anguish, joy, triumph, sorrow, exhilaration, devastation, despair, hope, faith – all in the eyes of one man conducting his music. At the close of the final tour concert, I was overcome by the transformation I knew was happening in my life. I had come face to face with my future. I wanted to be a composer.
    Fast forward to 1994. Standing in the lobby of the Chicago Hilton, visiting with my friend, Tom Stidham from the University of Kansas. Tom interrupts our conversation with “There he goes…”  I turned to see the flash of white hair disappear around a corner and ask,
    “Who?”
    “Nehlybel.”
    My first thought was to run through the crowd, throwing people helter skelter, hoping to have one small conversation with this man who 30 years before changed the entire path of my life. But he was gone.
    That night, I lay in bed, quite aggravated with myself, knowing that since I am stuck in exhibits all day, there is little chance that I would get to see or meet with him.
    The following morning, I am in the TRN Booth, at the far end of Aisle 3, with my publisher, the late Pete Wiley, pre­paring for the opening bell. I vol­unteered to step away and get us a couple of cups of coffee. I stepped into the aisle and saw Vaclav Nehlybel standing at the other end of that exhibitor’s corridor. People zoomed to and fro around him. It was like one of those surrealistic movies where everyone else is a blur, and he stands there, the only clear and visually dimensional person, breathlessly waiting for someone to pull him from the barrage of swarming motion surrounding him.
     I’m sure I said a quick “Thank you Lord” under my breath as I hurried up to him. I fumbled through some inconsequential facts about where we met, and how much I appreciated his music, how much of an inspiration he had been, and then, almost as an afterthought, I began to introduce myself. He interrupted my babbling, saying, “I know you. You are Holsinger, the famous composer.”
    I’m not sure what happened in that split second.There’s a good possibility that I levitated at least four inches off the floor. He proceeded to tell me about the teacher in his life who had fired his young passion to composition.  Then with an off-handed admonition to “pass what we do on,” he turned and walked off, swallowed by a suddenly awakened crowd of admirers at once aware that he was standing there in their midst.
    I never saw him again that week.  Within a year or so, he had passed away. I know that I was not the only person changed and challenged by this incredible personality. But I do know, that those heady days in 1966, and that 15 minutes in the exhibit hall of the Midwest Clinic have shaped, to a great degree, my life long desire and responsibility to pass it on.

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