I was reminded recently by friends from high school of shared experiences while performing in musical theatre productions, when we were students at New Trier East High School, in Chicago’s North Shore suburb of Winnetka, in the mid-1970’s.
Although it’s been nearly forty years since I last conducted a musical group of any sort (and, I suspect that my baton has not survived our many house moves during those forty years), I look back fondly on those times. I was most fortunate in high school to be asked to conduct not only “pit orchestras” for musicals, but also to lead our jazz band and concert band, primarily at basketball and football games. Conducting is little more than waving your hands in the air, and “trying not to put an eye out with that thing.”
There were three (naturally!) principal instrumental music educators operating at New Trier East while I was a student: Joel Streightiff, who led the concert band; Stan Ackerman, who conducted the orchestra, and chamber orchestras; and Phyllis Clendening, who led the jazz program at New Trier East - I penned a column about Phyllis a short time ago - a link to that column is helpfully attached here.
Clendening allowed me to conduct the jazz band during its turn performing at basketball and football games - I suspect because she didn’t want to be bothered with the task of managing this group of surly teenagers outside of her normal business hours. But, it was a win for me. I stumbled across this video of one of my high school buddies quite capably reconstructing our school’s fight song, “The Green and the Grey” - thanks, Gary!
I’m sure Gary will recall another tune we played religiously at each one of these games: a piece entitled, “Get it On” (hey, it was the ‘70’s, man!), here created by Bill Chase for his eponymous band, “Chase.” Our lineup didn’t include a burly, bearded guy with suspenders, as this one does, but our arrangement did feature those lush, harmonic horn riffs - truly a crowd-pleaser, as I recall. My apologies for the somewhat wavy nature of the video. . .but, as I already pointed out, it was the ‘70’s, man! I think the Zapruder film reflected greater clarity than this video - perhaps this videographer was a marching band alumnus (I know that reference doesn’t mean anything to you right now, but trust me, if you read on, you’ll find it quite amusing).
My stint conducting Streightiff’s concert band was a considerably briefer experience, consisting of exactly one rehearsal. Whereas my rehearsal-management style was typically open and interactive with my fellow musicians, Ackerman’s approach was to command pin-drop silence throughout the session, and his voice was the only one which was heard. My mistake was conducting my rehearsal at the same time as he was managing a chamber group in an adjacent classroom; Ackerman stepped into the middle of my rehearsal, demanding to know what all the ruckus was. Needless to say, I was not invited to lead the concert band again, although I may have continued to lead the band at games (you know, managing surly teenagers outside of normal business hours).
But I did have the opportunity to play in and to conduct pit orchestras for musicals mounted during my high school years, including such classics as: Kismet; Kiss Me Kate; No, No, Nanette; Bye Bye Birdie; and You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. And, of course, the annual original musical production, labeled, “Lagniappe,” which I always believed was derived from a French word, but which may actually possess more of a Spanish heritage. In any event, lagniappe appears to mean, “an extra or unexpected benefit,” which closely aligns with my understanding of the term.
From this musical education incubator at New Trier East, I traveled south to Lawrence, Kansas, where I once again had the pleasure of conducting pit orchestras, this time on behalf of the University of Kansas’ longstanding musical tradition, “Rock Chalk Revue,” produced annually by KU’s fraternities and sororities. We didn’t perform anything quite as exuberant as “Get it On,” but it was an enjoyable experience nonetheless. And, no one had to involuntarily don suspenders. And, I certainly “tried not to put an eye out with that thing.”
The most significant challenge I recall from my Rock Chalk Revue days was not in leading the pit orchestra, but in securing the services of music stands from KU’s music school for use in the production. . .at Hoch Auditorium. . .squarely in the middle of KU’s campus. Not being a music major, the music school administrators were not particularly inclined to assist me in my struggle to secure music stands. Try packing fifteen black music stands into a baby-blue, 1977 AMC Pacer Wagon to transport them across campus every night for two weeks - that was more challenging than “Introduction to Taxation (ACCT 330),” a course in which I logged a well-earned “D.”
I was also a proud member of the University of Kansas Marching Jayhawks for several years, an opportunity not afforded to me at New Trier East, because, as you might imagine, there was quite a bit of weed in high schools in the late 1960’s, and student musicians back then preferred that diversion, rather than investing the effort required to field a quality marching band; the band was dis-banded around 1971. My daughter was amused by my suggestion that my high school had no marching band, because there was too much weed.
I wasn’t allowed to conduct the marching band at KU - the only two options for that were: climbing a stepladder placed on the sidelines of the field, and waving my hands in the air; and donning the very tall hats worn by drum majors, who strutted up and down the field with ornamental, silver scepters. I don’t think I could trust myself not to fall off the ladder, while waving my hands in the air - I don’t even like to climb a ladder to clean my gutters. And, those drum majors - they are true contortionists, bending backwards such that their hats touch the ground - my body simply doesn’t bend that way. And, I’m pretty sure I would have “put an eye out with that thing.” I think, encircled by a sousaphone, I could perhaps trot over to dot the “I” in the script Ohio, as performed by The Ohio State University Marching Band. But, I’m not holding my breath for that invitation, given that my allegiances lean more fully in the direction of the University of Michigan Wolverines - Go, Blue!
Given my rich musical conducting training, how was I not able to enjoy a long and fruitful career ensconced in Broadway’s iconic theatres, happily waving my hands in the air night after night? Perhaps I didn’t effectively leverage my connections on the Great White Way - I’m looking at you, Liz Calloway. How hard would it have been for you to suggest, “Listen Mr. Sondheim, I agree with you that Bernstein is a fine choice to lead the orchestra, but I went to high school with this guy who waves his hands in the air like nobody’s business, and I’m pretty sure that he’s never ‘put an eye out with that thing.’?
Although I haven’t manned a baton myself in nearly forty years, I have performed on the other side of one. While living in Toledo a few years ago, the Toledo Symphony Orchestra, under the baton of German conductor, Stefan Sanderling, fielded a “Pro-Am” concert, in which the amateurs (including me, armed with a clarinet) were provided sheet music for a couple of symphonic pieces, and rehearsed one evening alone, rehearsed with the regular orchestra the following evening, and performed a concert on the third evening.
Maestro Sanderling was quite gentle with us (much more gentle than he typically is with professionals, as I understand), and it was an enjoyable experience. While rehearsing us, he would stop the piece, and begin by saying, “Alright, that was absolutely perfect. . .just a couple of tiny little things,” and he would proceed to set us straight on how we were missing the mark. He also indicated that, “It’s okay if you don’t play every single note,” suggesting that he would prefer that we amateurs not play passages which we were not prepared to play perfectly. If only I’d had that advice forty years earlier! Avoiding my many musical gaffes back then would likely have created some pretty spare performances, however.
So, if you have conducting needs, please feel free to reach out to me - I believe I’m quite capable of grasping a baton, and waving my hands in the air; and, I promise that I’ll “try not to put an eye out with that thing.”