The N ± 2 Rule

By PAUL KWAK

Those of you who read this column on a regular basis may have come to expect it to address matters of substance—or, at the very least, matters important to the Juilliard community. This column endeavors certainly to address the latter, and generally eschews the former in what this writer feels to be a long overdue examination of an integral part of Juilliard life: the elevator ride.

Paul Kwak

Given that there are a meager five floors between which most of us travel in the building (notwithstanding the tantalizing and newly added "6" on some of the elevator panels), the elevator remains the most frequently traveled means of vertical transportation, and the most interesting space for random, fascinating, and awkward social interaction among unsuspecting riders. And because the banalities of daily existence are those things which most often go woefully unexamined, the elevator ride becomes the locus of disturbing, if not appalling, behavior. Indeed, Emily Post and Miss Manners have very little to say about how to ride an elevator most graciously, so in their stead, I submit to you a brief survey of the most important—and oft neglected—guidelines (or, perhaps more benignly, suggestions) for riding the elevators at The Juilliard School.

The American Obesity Association (A.O.A.) reported in 2000 that 65 percent of Americans are overweight and 31 percent are obese (you know things are bad when there are separate categories for "overweight" and "obese"). It is the joke heard round the world: Americans are fat and lazy. Elevators often simply abet this frightful propensity by turning vehicles of freedom for the disabled or otherwise hindered into enablers for the slovenly. Allow me now to cite a figure from www.coolnurse.com (if that URL doesn't make you want to go to that site immediately, I don't know what to tell you), which reports that walking up stairs for 10 minutes burns approximately 175 calories. Do the math, and with the calories you burn walking up five flights of stairs, you might begin to justify that bacon cheeseburger for lunch after all.

If one is put off by an ironically concomitant cultural impulse toward fitness and health, the stairs also provide a worry-free (if not sweat-free) alternative to the tricky social calculations that lie inherent in the use of the elevator. Consider the following scenario: it is 1:59 on a given afternoon, and you are on the ground floor after rushing into the building following a delightful lunch (perhaps a bacon cheeseburger deluxe), needing to make your way to the fifth floor for a 2 p.m. class. Three (or many more) other people get on, and push the buttons for 2, 3, and 4. Where 2 p.m. might have been feasible were you alone and on an express ride to the top, you find yourself walking into class four minutes late because, indeed, that guy really did take the elevator from 1 to 2. Despite your tardiness to class, you are O.K. with the person who went to 4, and you have mixed feelings about the person who got off at 3. Where do we draw the line?

With the calories you burn walking up five flights of stairs, you might begin to justify that bacon cheeseburger for lunch.

Toward that end, here follows the Kwak Rule for riding the Juilliard elevators, also known as the "n±2 rule" (or, in common speech, the "n plus-or-minus 2 rule") and articulated thus: If n represents the floor on which you are standing, the elevator is justified if the travel is of a distance of at least 2 floors. It is particularly justified if you are going up those two floors. Indeed, going down two floors on the elevator seems morally suspicious, but in the spirit of granting benefit of the doubt, it must be acceptable. In contrast, going up one floor is patently unacceptable, and going down one floor is out of the question. Lest you doubt that individuals are actually so brazen as to take the elevator one flight down, spend a few minutes in the elevators on Saturdays. As much as one hates to generalize, Pre-College children (who must be among the most able-bodied individuals that circulate in the School) are the most likely to opt for the elevators when traveling that one flight down.

Of course, there are certain exceptions to the Kwak Rule. Double bass players, mailroom staff, bearers of audio-visual technology, and of course, those in wheelchairs or otherwise incapacitated are exempt from the n±2 rule. At the risk of being accused of ageism, one grants that individuals of a certain elderly sort need not adhere to the rule either.

Despite the dismay at having to repeat certain ordinary rules of order, allow me to do so here: let people get off before pushing onto the elevator. In addition, now that the once-defunct "door close" button is operational, please remember that a single, firm depression of the button will suffice to accelerate the door-close function. Depressing it repeatedly in rapid fashion as if in epileptic shock will not help the process, and will only serve to prompt others riding the elevator with you to wonder if your dosage of Ritalin should be increased.

When in doubt, take the stairs. Not only will the A.O.A. approve, and not only will the "express riders" be grateful, but you might just discover nether regions of the Juilliard building of which you had no previous knowledge. Musicians: try the B or C staircase when trying to get to Floor 3, and see what your colleagues in the other divisions are up to. We all might do well to try the A staircase to Floor 2, and see how "the other half" of the building contributes so vitally to what we do on a daily basis. Or the E staircase ("the vortex," as a friend of mine calls it) to Floor 4, where, in addition to practice rooms, you might discover the friendly staff of The Juilliard Journal.

Paul Kwak is a master's student in collaborative piano.