Classical Music

Note: What was to be a short blog post turned into a long essay. Enjoy.

After he learned that classical was the prevailing genre in my iTunes library, my friend asked me how I acquired my love of classical music. My answer to him was something like, "I played the piano, violin and sang in choirs," but it is a lot more than that. Why is it that my one of my favorite activities is attending the symphony? Why can I sit captivated through an entire opera? Why is my iTunes list inundated with classical music? I have come to the conclusion that my love of beautiful music came to me from many fantastic music teachers.

It all began when my mom and dad put me in piano lessons in first grade. Instead of having me take lessons from the teacher that my other siblings were with, they had me take lessons from Lorna Flickinger, a woman that lived in our neighborhood. I was lucky to take lessons from her because as wonderful of a person the other teacher was, she wouldn't let my siblings move on until they had obtained perfection with a piece. Sister Flickinger helped me to advance, despite my imperfections. She was very patient, and showed more faith in my abilities than I had in myself. I was the only person in my family that stuck with lessons through high school, and one of the few that still plays the piano on occasion.

I was blessed to attend Northridge Elementary School, which school was itself blessed to have two fantastic music teachers: Al Huish and Don Harvie. Mr. Huish was the music specialist for grades 1-3. The man was crazy fun. He would rock out to his piano, which had a hole in it where he kicked out the beat as he played. I still remember sitting captivated listening to the story of William Tell and listening to the overture. I also remember playing a game wherein we would shuffle about the room until we heard a certain motif in this piece of music. I can't remember what piece it was, but I can still hear the motif: "ti, do, ti, la, so, fa, mi, re, do". I don't really remember what we did after that, something with shaking hands or winking, but I remember loving whatever game it was.

Mr. Harvie was much more serious than Mr. Huish, and worked a lot with us on proper singing technique. After you had him in fourth grade, you could audition for the most prestigious position at Northridge Elementary: a member of the Northridge Chorus. Let me tell you, that choir was amazing. We sang a song that was four-part harmony, a cappella, in Italian and we sang it in tune. Yep, 100 fifth and sixth graders. I have the CD to prove it. I'm still amazed when I think of how Mr. Harvie got us to do such things (for those of you who had him, I think it had something to do with that nasty tootsie pop that he kept on his music stand and would threaten to stick in our mouths if we weren't opening wide enough).

When I was in sixth grade, Mr. Huish decided that he would start an orchestra program at our school as well. It would meet the days of the week that we didn't have chorus after school. I wanted so badly to play the violin like my best friend Becca, that my mom gave in and bought me a violin (she also eventually bought me a guitar, but held her ground when I asked for a banjo). I kept playing the violin all through high school.

In high school, I was lucky enough to have Diane Soelberg, oboist extraordinaire, as an orchestra teacher. Because we didn't have enough people to have multiple orchestras, we had just one that included every level of player. I can imagine what kind of a challenge that must have been for her to have people like me sitting in the second violin section (or worse, in the first violin section my senior year), but somehow she managed to produce orchestras that did very well at the state festival. Miss Soelberg introduced me to all kinds of fantastic music. My favorite pieces that we played were always those from the Romantic Era (which, much to my chagrin of my Baroque-loving father, is still my favorite era).

To me, performing in the orchestra was exhilarating. I remember one particular performance when we were so focused and so together, that we all walked off the stage asking each other, "did you feel that?" It was a feeling that is hard to explain, but beautiful to feel. I have felt similar feelings experiencing concerts with the Utah Symphony or at BYU, but there's nothing like being a part of the group performing.

Because I was in orchestra, I didn't really have room in my schedule for choir until my senior year when I was in the a cappella choir. I mostly joined to be with friends (shout out to McKay, Adam, Jenilyn, Jenn, Jessica, Jessica, Jessica, Shalon, Jake), but also because I did enjoy singing. My teacher, Mr. Denkers, helped me appreciate great choir music. I loved singing choruses from The Messiah at Christmastime.

Now you might think that all of these opportunities would lead me to be an incredible musician. Let me assure you that I’m not—and I’m not just saying that to be modest. Unfortunately, I didn’t put in the practice that I should have. (I will, however, brag that I rocked at music theory.) I sit down at the piano on occasion to play some great Chopin or Beethoven. I hardly pick up my violin anymore, and when I do, I usually get depressed that I can’t play so well.

What I have gained from my experiences over the years is a love of and an appreciation for beautiful music. Listening to that music has enriched my life in a myriad of ways, whether from a recording or a live concert. It has helped me through late nights writing long papers. It has soothed emotional pain on some occasions, and filled me with joy on others. It has inspired me to work harder and to be a better person. I’m grateful for wonderful music teachers that have enriched my life so much. If only they knew…