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Jo Sarzotti
A native of Ojai, Calif., Sarzotti earned degrees in English at U.C. Berkeley (B.A.) and Carnegie Mellon University (M.A.), and a Ph.D. in English and comparative literature at Columbia University. She has taught writing workshops at U.C. Berkeley and composition at the U. of Pittsburgh, and taught E.S.L. for the American Language Program. She taught humanities and medieval literature at Manhattan College before coming to Juilliard in 1984.
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| Jo Sarzotti at home with Squeak, one of her two cats. (Photo by Howard McMaster) |
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What are the most striking differences between Juilliard now and when you first started teaching here? How have they changed the School?
For the Liberal Arts faculty, the most striking difference is the role we play in the students' education. My first year, the old system was still in place; known as the Academic Department, it was not as focused, interesting, or rigorous as what we have now. The courses were limited to literature and art history. Now our humanities program offers cross-disciplinary core courses, while our electives include classes in gender, film, poetry, etc. Also, Liberal Arts was not as integrated with other parts of the School as it is now, thanks to our participation in programs and offices which—also strikingly—did not exist then: Colloquium, Mentoring, Student Affairs, and Career Development. Of course, The Juilliard Journal did not exist either, and we are now collaborating with it through our new Expository Writing course.
I was hired initially to set up E.S.L. (English as a Second Language) classes; before then, students were helped on an ad hoc basis by a French teacher who tutored them in the cafeteria. Now, we have a multi-course program to address the needs of international students, as well as an International Advisement Office. In general, the School seemed—in the years before the current administration—to be like a frontier town; students were left to fend for themselves.
But I'd say the most dramatic difference, from my vantage point, lies in the way Juilliard prepares students to be artists in the world: that whole concept has broadened. The School not only pays more attention to the students' physical needs and comfort while they are here, it also reflects more concern for development of their intellectual abilities and practical skills.
What about Juilliard in the "old days" would current students find quaint or surprising?
Being able to rent a cheap apartment in the neighborhood. No attendance policy. The Admissions Office, as I remember it, consisted of one beleaguered woman, who did everything from handling visas for international students to explaining to parents on the phone why their children hadn't been admitted. Oh—you could smoke anywhere in the building.
Has your teaching changed over the years? How? Have Juilliard students changed?
As a teacher, I've become more relaxed and confident; I probably enjoy teaching more. My own children are now the age of my students; they also are at highly competitive schools (my son at the University of Chicago, my daughter at Brown), so I know the other side and how stressful student life can get. This has probably increased my understanding of students, although young people are always wonderfully mysterious.
I'd say that, in general, Juilliard students are much better prepared for our liberal arts courses than they were 20 years ago; many have had excellent high school instruction in our areas and have a genuine interest in learning beyond their majors. Also, the student body is much more diverse in all divisions, which adds a welcome dimension to our class discussions, as more points of view now go into the mix.
If you could have your students visit any place in the world, where would it be, and why?
My recommendation is that one live in a place as far away and different from where one grew up as possible. The place itself may not be that important, but adapting to different ways is, because it creates distance between oneself and one's attitudes, assumptions, etc. Actually visiting places one has only read about, or seeing paintings, mountains, and buildings one has previously only seen in pictures, is truly magical.
What would people be surprised to know about you?
I think anyone who knows me at all knows I am a horse enthusiast and ride as much as I can, so it's odd, but not a surprise. I write poetry, have some poems published and am trying to finish a book. This might be surprising: I'm anosmic, which means I have no sense of smell.
If you weren't in the career you are in, what would you be doing?
Raising horses in Montana.
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