Buddy Miles- RIP

I was saddened to learn of the death of drummer, singer and songwriter Buddy Miles at the age of only 60. Buddy Miles was a very, very good singer, and a songwriter who has contributed so true classics to the blues and funk standards, particularly “Them Changes,”...

Transcending the self

To my surprise and delight, my post on repetition in rehearsal has attracted a number of really interesting comments, including three fascinating ones from choral conductors. First was this one from regular Vftp commenter John on his outstanding blog, then this one...

Who is embarassing the School now?

It is a grey, February afternoon in 1986. A blast of arctic air has settled across the Midwest that promises to chill the bones for several days to come. In this climate the cozy college town looked rather austere and foreboding. Your author had grown up on a Big-Ten...

As I was just saying

Many years ago, when I was beginning to get very serious about conducting, I used to take every possible opportunity to talk to other conductors about the intricacies of the craft. One established maestro who was very generous with his time was Oakland East Bay...

Grammy madness

I can scarcely imagine a more irrelevant institution than the Grammys. I suppose the classical version of the awards, which seems to exist solely in a parallel universe entirely free of television cameras is quite useful and harmless as these things go- at least it...

Quote of the day

From my friend Michael Steinberg, eminent musicologist, after his first night out with the Oregon East Symphony (if you know Michael’s inimitable way of speaking, it is even funnier)… “This orchestra drinks like…. a German...

Quote of the day….

The question was a hanging curveball to my colleague, a cello soloist and professor….  “So what are you planning to do with your sabbatical?”    “I am going to conquer the world, one retirement home concert at a...

The best damn op 98 in history

I was driving Jorja Fleezanis and Michael Steinberg back to their hotel after our first meal upon their arrival when we got stuck at a railroad crossing. While I was chatting away to Jorja about trains as part of the rhythms of small town life, Michael was relatively...