By CRISTA KENDE

I had only played a single phrase of the Schubert Sonata when Mr. Becker interrupted in his booming voice: "Crista, I know you can play the notes, but that alone means nothing. You must convince listeners this is the most beautiful phrase of music ever written."

This advice began five remarkable years of lessons, which often included charismatic instruction on grammar, history, linguistics, and etiquette. Mr. Becker was clearly dedicated to molding and challenging both the musician and the person. Any exasperation I felt was put into perspective by his words, "You can get crazy, but in the end it's all show biz—we're out to make beautiful music for people!" It seemed simple because his words so honestly reflected his belief in music's uplifting power.

At 13, when I performed as soloist with the Pre-College Orchestra under Mr. Becker's direction, I hadn't considered the pressure of playing for Juilliard students, parents, and teachers until my orchestra friends had assembled on stage, leaving me backstage to ponder the enormity of the task ahead. Mr. Becker quickly diffused my tension, suggesting that we ditch the concert and run for the border with the valuable Maggini viola I had borrowed. As we walked onstage, he smiled, saying, "Let's have fun and entertain these people." His straightforward sincerity left no room for doubt, fear, or hesitation. He often quoted Franklin D. Roosevelt: "There is nothing to fear but fear itself," encouraging me to pour myself fully and without reservation into my music. His own passion for music was particularly infectious when he conducted—always treating us like adults, expecting even the youngest children to understand their responsibility to the orchestra.

Read an obituary of Eugene Becker.

Make-up lessons in Mr. Becker's apartment revealed his powerful collaboration with his wife, Rae, whom he always referred to as "Mrs. Becker" in the presence of students. She attended all recitals in support of her husband and the students they both loved. When I arrived once at a lesson drenched from a torrential downpour, she instantly provided a towel and change of clothing, even making a trip to the basement to dry my clothing. Kindness abounded in the Becker home.

Even as Mr. Becker's health failed, he rarely cancelled lessons. Teaching seemed to energize him and inspire him to wellness. Through numerous painful cancer therapies he maintained his sense of humor, joking that he had shaved his head to model for TV commercials. He was as much of a role model in sickness as he was in health.

In my three years performing at Princeton, I have always imagined Mr. Becker there, nodding confidently and giving his stamp of approval. What a blessing to have had such a teacher, mentor, and friend. He will forever remain a part of who I am and will become as a violist, artist, and human being.

Crista Kende attended the Juilliard Pre-College from 1997-2003. She is now a senior at Princeton University, where she majors in history and music performance.