 |
The very interesting article in the September issue about Juilliard's centennial exhibition at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts ("100 Years of History on 4 Walls") lists Henry Cowell as an alumnus. This reference is only accurate if one uses the literal Latin translation of "alumnus" as "student." But if the word is used with the conventional meaning of "graduate," it is incorrect.
Indeed, Cowell was a student at the Institute of Musical Art for seven weeks in the fall of 1916. He was then 19. Regrettably, he had great reservations about the quality of instruction in his music-theory course, partially because he had previously studied with Charles Seeger, one of the most original thinkers of that time. Cowell decided to play a trick on his instructor by submitting a Bach chorale harmonization as his own work, to see what would happen. When he received it back with corrections, he marched off to the office of the director, Frank Damrosch, insisting that his tuition money be refunded. Damrosch kicked him out of the school, without a refund.
Five years later, Cowell's manager mailed a publicity circular that listed him as having studied at the Institute, which was certainly true. When it crossed Damrosch's desk, however, Damrosch wrote a furious letter calling it an "unwarranted impertinence for you to claim you have been a student at this Institute," citing, among other things, that he had been absent for 11 ear-training sessions, and strongly "suggested" that in any future advertising all reference to the Institute of Musical Art be omitted.
Cowell had at least one sympathizer. He relates that Ives lived across the street from one of the Damroschs, whom he detested, and would sometimes stand at the window and shake his fist at that house, presumably uttering imprecations. Afterwards, Ives, who had serious cardiac problems, would have to lie down to catch his breath.
Time heals, however. In 1962 Juilliard gave a major concert celebrating the 50th anniversary of Cowell's professional debut. It is amusing to note, however, that during the preparations for the concert, the Cowells discovered that Henry had misrecollected the date of his debut, which actually had taken place in 1914, not 1912. But it was too late to do anything about the concert. 1912 has stuck in the reference books as the date of his debut.
Joel Sachs
Director, New Juilliard Ensemble and Focus! Festival
I realize that The Journal has a full plate with all the events related to the centennial—but frankly, I was so appalled by the contents and tone of Blair Tindall's recently published book Mozart in the Jungle: Sex, Drugs and Classical Music, not to mention fearful for the impression it has made on many persons, that I think it cannot be ignored.
While I know that Blair Tindall is not a Juilliard product, many of the names that appeared in the book are. In fact, there are some from my generation, which was a half-century ago—one by name, others by implication. And of course, a number of others we all know and love.
It was clear from Tindall's own words that the choice of a musical career was not based on a love of music (a point made in a number of book reviews in newspapers around the country), but nevertheless, there are those who take her seriously. I'm certain that it does not make some parents happy.
Music has always been a major part of my life, but I made a decision at an early point that, while I would always sing professionally, I would not try to make my living from it. In the ensuing years, I have worked in a number of fields, including academia, social work, public relations, and concert production. Whatever Tindall found that is bad in the music profession is not limited to music. It exists in every field; there is always someone wanting to take advantage of another, stabbing backs, or using drugs. But "no" is a word that Tindall does not seem to have learned. And self-respect is a quality to be developed—and it usually works.
With Juilliard groups traveling all over the country and getting the amount of publicity that will result from this flurry of activity, it seems to me that some part of the School needs to address the issues brought up in that book, in a very public way. Whether it is a series of articles in The Journal by faculty, alumni, current students, and perhaps parents, or whether it is a topic for the Career Development Office, someone really should pay attention and try to counteract the bad taste left by that very troubled person.
Clare Juddson Kagel
(B.S.'56, voice)
I am enjoying the September issue of The Juilliard Journal very much, and yet I have a problem: In the old photographs, you only seem to list the names of people who have become stars. I don't understand this. I imagine that most Juilliard alumni have spent a good portion of their (and our) lifetimes working in the arts. It's remarkably inappropriate not to include everyone's name in our own school paper. How difficult would it have been to list the four dancers in Diversion of Angels and the cast of School for Scandal, instead of just mentioning Kevin Kline, David Ogden Stiers and Patti LuPone? It's bad enough that the world at large is star-driven, but shouldn't Juilliard be about something larger than that?
Carole Schweid
(B.F.A. '69, dance)
Jane Gottlieb, vice president for library and information resources, replies:
While we would welcome the opportunity to identify everyone in our historic photographs, unfortunately many of the production photos in the Juilliard Archives do not have complete identification information. Sometimes there are few people still at School who have the knowledge to accurately identify former students, so we must publish the photos with the information we have at hand—as was the case with the photo of Diversion of Angels. Sometimes space considerations prohibit us from listing every cast member in a photo (which was the case with the School for Scandal photo).We do make the effort to identify everyone whenever possible, and if our readers have reliable information about photos that we run, we would welcome their input.
|
