Articles

Some thoughts about Cuban Music

By Linda L. Hoeschler, January 1, 2003

 

The sounds of Cuba continue to swirl in my mind, an aural imprint of the country that freshens itself whenever I hear or hum one of its lilting, driving tunes. Each song renews my enjoyment of the unending live music that encircled me during my November 2002 trip.  This pulsating sound sculpture provides more powerful memories than those of the decaying pastel colors of old Havana or the peppery-sweet tastes of Cuban food. Simply said, I never dreamed that there existed such a musical country.

My first live experience occurred upon arrival at the Nacional Hotel in Havana, on Friday, November 8, after having just spent several hours in the wallpaper-Muzak environment of the Cancun, Mexico airport. I, and most of my traveling colleagues, thought we were ready for bed, after a late night penance called Cuban customs, followed by a sleepy drive from the airport through the quiet, poorly lit streets of the capital. But the Nacional was vibrating! Blaring bands challenged gorgeous trim Cuban couples in sinuous clothes to writhe in mirror-image perfect, provocative steps. Why hadn’t I brought at least one party outfit, rather than a wardrobe suitable for church visits?

The next day, after charming mealtime serenades (that almost never included the American pop tunes that infiltrate other countries), and city squares featuring colorfully-clad musicians on stilts as well as poorly dressed panpipers, I had a private meeting with Lerlys Morales Fernandez, a 22 year-old violinist who had been selected as my “counterpart.” Since I run a composer-service organization, I was initially disappointed with her youth and lack of compositional experience. However, she was very charming and spoke honestly of the difficulties of being a musician in Cuba. Basically, there are no steady jobs, so a “career” is a series of piecemeal, poorly paid gigs that force most musicians to continue living with their parents. The Cuban government boasts of its support for artists, but in fact, Lerlys only receives a stipend of $5 a month from the Popular Center of Music for her work there, whether or not she shows up. (Since Cuba has been “dollarized” most people speak as often about costs in dollars as in pesos.) Lerlys added that she might also receive the same amount for giving a lesson. She continued to explain that since violin jobs were scarce, she was playing with more popular bands to earn some money, and had I heard of Pedro Ferrer with whom she worked? (I said no, which turned out to be like denying I had ever heard of Bob Dylan.) She sighed, and said she’d like me to hear his music.

Our Delegation for Friendship among Women focused on learning about issues affecting women in Cuba, so our week involved lectures by experts and leaders on pertinent subjects. Cuba is well prepared for such tours, since Americans may only visit legally if they are on an “educational mission.” Many Cubans work hard to accommodate the US government’s tourist strictures, an industry in its own right, in order to feed their starving economy some critical dollars. But between the proud tales of accomplishment tempered by economic hardship for all, the carefree compelling music betrayed no problems, just joyful celebration of life.

We took dancing lessons on the rooftop of Ernest Hemingway’s favorite hotel, learning salsa and a rumba that Arthur Murray never taught. With no warning a man would plunge his hand or foot toward his female partner’s privates, her challenge being to cover hers before he “hits.” When asked about the difference between the Cuban rumba and our staid version, the question was taken as slightly ridiculous. What did we mean? This is the only real rumba!

On a visit with a revolutionary journalist, Marta Rojas, whose younger version we later saw in a Castro documentary, we overheard a brief mention of a concert the next day, Wednesday, at UNEAC, the national artists’ league. An octet of us attended what I thought would be a conventional music performance of new concert music by top artists. Only the top artists part was true. At the end of a long day we joined a packed crowd on a lovely terrace outside the mansion headquarters of UNEAC (probably seized from a pro-Batista magnate). Four diverse groups comprising vocalists and instrumentalists commanded the porch-stage to play an unending series of original rumbas, each so driving, so African, so different. The audience not only clapped to and for the music, but some seemed propelled to a small clearing in front of the performers, dancing the most perfectly choreographed movements. Did anyone in the country not play, sing and dance out of a Jerome Kern-goes-Caribbean musical?

We continued our women-focused meetings and tours, serenaded in between by the ubiquitous musicians in restaurants, squares and on corners. I never once heard recorded music. In the meantime I tried to contact several leading composers of new music, Alfred Diez Nieto and Harold Gramatges, friends of Cuban American composer, Tania Leon. Tania had also given me contact information for her brother, Oscar, a pianist, but no one seemed to answer when I called between appointments. When I asked Tania what I could offer Cuban composers, she said that I should just show them that someone cared about them and their work. On Wednesday, just before our briefing at the U.S. Special Interests Section (where we have 51 Americans and 280 Cuban employees, compared to the four Swiss in the Swiss Embassy under which the U.S. operates), I finally reached Nieto and set a meeting for the following day. We also got a call from Lerlys, my Sunday afternoon counterpart, that we were all invited to Pedro Ferrer’s home for a concert Thursday evening after our African dance concert.

In the meantime, a group of us splurged on tickets to the Tropicana nightclub that Wednesday, a two-hour color-coded (the orange act, followed by the blue routine, etc.) extravaganza under the stars that played on a main stage as well as on several suspended platforms in the trees. Lighted dates “1939-2002” twinkled in the trees, although I presume that a few years had seen no showgirl action due to the puritan revolutionaries. The 40-piece band was the kind you only see today in the Busby Berkley movies, and although this show is considered the predecessor of Las Vegas, modesty prevailed, perhaps because the few scantily clad dancers (about 10 in a cast of 60) had not had breast and buttocks implants. The music was fine, but while loud and brassy, it seemed more controlled than the other live music we had heard. After all, the Tropicana is but a “living museum” for tourists.

Thursday was the ultimate music day for us, so much so that by the time it was over, I felt that Cuba was the musical heart of the world. Stimulating meetings with Habana University women and painter Flora Fong were followed by Nieto, African dancing and Ferrer. Three of us, Leaetta Hough, a member of the American Composers Forum Board, music afficianado Carol Lilyholm, and I found Nieto’s charming home in the Playa section of Havana. His wife, Lillian, and he had prepared coffee and tea, served on heirloom china (and made with bottled water, she later mentioned, since Havana’s drinking water is not longer potable). Lovely tiny cakes accompanied the beverages, only later did I learn that cakes are a treasured delicacy in short supply.

We talked about the hardship that Cuba’s many composers endure today: lack of work, money and recordings. At my request Nieto played some of his works on an old tape recorder. The pieces were quite compelling, serious but with some welcome Latin flavor, and would have been more riveting but for the distracting distortions of either the recording or the machine. Nieto seemed not to notice. He was very generous about other composers in Cuba (many have since contacted me at his direction), a nice sign. Only at the end of the visit, after we had toured the detached studio which he built and decorated with his own lovely abstract wall paintings and when one of his 15 private students arrived, did his wife mention that he and Harold Gramatges were receiving national recognition the next day (akin to being named a “living treasure”). Although the Nietos were gracious and cheerful, I felt sad when I waved goodbye, for I wasn’t sure if there was anything I could really do to help them or their country’s composers, given the difficulty of even getting mail from the States to their island.

A brief dinner where the hotel restaurant ensemble played the first American tunes of the week (they switched to Cuban music as I was about to ask them to stop!), was followed by a show of Afro-Cuban dances and songs. I felt tired by it, since it seemed to lack the honest originality of the other musicians I had seen. But my fellow travelers enjoyed it, so I smiled and applauded with them. I thought that if I hadn’t seen all the other musicians, I would have probably loved it.

We then took cabs to Pedro Ferrer’s home, where spectacular magic happened. We sat on his front porch where his young South African wife, Miami-based mother-in-law, an NPR stringer living in Mexico City, and other musicians were gathered. From 10 to 12 we had a private concert such as I may never again experience in my life. Ferrer, who is from a remote part of Cuba, is dedicated to preserving indigenous musical forms, many of which are disappearing. He takes these forms and writes original melodies and words (some of which have gotten him thrown in jail). The middle-age musician was accompanied by three younger performers: my friend, Lerlys, on percussion, guitar and flute, Ferrer’s 20-something daughter, Lena, who hauntingly sang and played percussion, plus a young man who performed on a variety of African instruments (one like a large finger piano). Ferrer played a steel-string acoustic guitar, made for him, and sang. Ferrer would have sung all night, but for our self-imposed curfew, based on an early tour the next day. We cut the concert at midnight, and then toured his well-appointed studio where he could obviously make quality recordings. I was in love; we all were.

Since my return to Minnesota I have been outlining a project to do a series of recordings, through the American Composers Forum, of Cuban jazz, new-ethnic and classical music. In the meantime I play my Cuban CD’s, cook Cuban food, and think sentimentally about an extraordinary island in the sun where the music is heartfelt, vital and ubiquitous. I am anxious to travel there again with my family, and advise others to go there soon. For once relations with the US are “normalized,” I don’t think Cuban music will be so pure and free. They will then be deluged by American recorded music, that they, like other musicians around the world,  will curse, or emulate, or incorporate. Go now, before it’s too late.

Doctor of Humane Letters

Honoris Causa

to

Linda Hoeschler

Wielding an unusual and powerful combination of energy, business savvy gained from a successful career in several major corporations and devotion to the music arts, you, Linda Hoeschler, have steered the American Composers Forum to national prominence, fostering the growth of audiences for new music across the country and reaching composers and communities in every state. 

A radio show, a record label for new artists and composer seminars initiated by the American Composers Forum reach out to nurture artists and audiences nationwide.  Visionary music residency and educational programs, launched under your leadership, help people of all ages, in communities of all kinds, discover that new music can sing for them, that composers can create original works that help express their yearnings or heal their wounds or celebrate their joys. From elementary school classrooms to middle school rehearsal rooms, from church halls to city halls, the Forum has become a dynamic agent for music education.

Your commitment to community is not only expressed through your creative leadership at the American Composers Forum. You have also generously shared your gifts through service on numerous nonprofit boards, including the University of St. Thomas, Chamber Music America, the U.S. Delegation for Friendship Among Women and the Northwest Area Foundation.

For your vision, your generosity, and, above all, for providing composers with audiences they did not know how to find and audiences with composers they did not how to look for, Saint John’s recognizes you with gratitude and confers upon you:

The Doctor of Humane Letters

honoris causa

on this eleventh day of May

two thousand and three.

 

Dietrich Reinhart, OSB

President

Degree Response

By Linda Hoeschler, May 8, 2003

Thank you. I gratefully accept this honor, especially meaningful since it is given by an Institution that is so deeply committed to art and culture, to the creation and preservation of the best art of our times, and of times past.

I was delighted and astonished by Brother Dietrich’s letter inviting me to receive this recognition, particularly since those of us who lead cultural organizations are seldom public figures. Our best work is unseen—the promotion of artists, the cultivation of audiences, and the begging of funds to do so.  

Thank you also for this tribute to the accomplishments of the American Composers Forum. Still, these achievements are not really ours to claim. They are the achievements of thousands of composers who dared to embrace new ideas, and of hundreds of thousands of people, like you, who gave these artists a chance to show that composers have a critical role in celebrating and healing our communities—all with and for a song.

On your day of commencement, the beginning of the next phase of your life, I offer you my warmest congratulations. But as a mother, on Mother’s Day, I cannot resist offering some advice.

I urge each of you to articulate, to write down your values, the things and issues you really care about. Then shape your life’s activities—your job, your family, your volunteer commitments—around those core beliefs. You will do your best work and make your most significant contributions if you know that you are spending your time on things important to you. You need not advertise or argue your beliefs if you live this kind of life, because your life will be your message.

 

Continental Harmony: Music that Builds Community

Speech by Linda L. Hoeschler to the New Century Club, April 2, 2003, St. Paul, MN

 

In 1998 the American Composers Forum, based in downtown St. Paul, was selected as one of six national organizations to launch millennial arts celebrations in partnership with the White House and the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA). These millennial projects were nationwide endeavors to involve many people in celebrating this country in the year 2000, expressed through original art works.

In the case of the Forum, our program, called “Continental Harmony” (a lovely name, I think), challenged communities around the nation to identify themes celebrating their history, a current issue or future dreams. A national panel picked the best project for each state, based on originality of idea, variety of coalition members, ability to execute, etc. The local project leaders then selected a composer from a host of applicants recruited by the Forum. The winning composer was in residence over 18 months and wrote a piece of music for the local band, orchestra or chorus (and sometimes all three). During the residency the composer gathered information and inspiration, as well as taught and spoke in local schools and civic institutions.

So how did a nice St. Paul group end up playing in these big leagues, particularly since all the other awardees were located in New York or Washington (Save our Sculptures, the Poetry Project, etc.)? Moreover, why was our project the one selected as the centerpiece presentation for the NEA’s annual meeting in 2000 (converting several Board members and bringing others to tears, by the way), and the subject of an hour-long special on PBS and a new PBS web-site. Also, why is Continental Harmony the repeat focus of talks at national conferences, and why is it still thriving around the nation five years later, with many new communities vying for admission and many veteran localities asking to continue the program with us?

The key to Continental Harmony’s popularity and legacy is that we empower communities to design an art project relevant to their history, their capabilities, their needs. We tell the communities that they know good art, and will know how to select not only a good composer, but also design a creative residency and project. We challenge project initiators to include coalition members who are not part of the usual power circle—minorities, immigrants, non-arts participants. 

And what do they get? They get a great piece of new music for their town or city, but more important, they build a stronger community through the process of participating in Continental Harmony. Ironically, the communities apply for the end product, but all find the process, the residency and community building, the most extraordinary aspect of the program.

And what does the Forum get? Not only unprecedented recognition and appreciation for the role composers can play in building community, but a pride that we have designed a methodology that can serve as a model for all arts organizations—from symphonies to community theater—as to how to become a vital, not peripheral or decorative, part of their locales.

Before I show you a short video about Continental Harmony that illustrates the principles and mechanics of the program, and describe some of the specific successes of this and other American Composer Forum programs, I’d like to describe how we came to design a Continental Harmony.

Composers Stephen Paulus and Randall Davidson began recruiting me to run the Minnesota Composers Forum in the fall of 1990. I had had a 13-year career in corporate management at Dayton Hudson and National Computer Systems, after doing 7 years of free lance arts reviewing, feature writing and editing. But along the way, my husband and I developed a passion for working with artists, particularly composers, whom we commissioned to write new music for various celebrations. In 1990 the Forum was faltering; the prior executive director had stolen large sums of money, and the staff was executing the same 15 year-old programs, much to funders skepticism. As a personal favor to Steve, I finally agreed to come to the Forum, just for a year, to help out.

What I found was a small service organization dedicated to helping composers, but with little thought of relating to the communities. At that time I was on the Jerome Foundation Board and had heard staff discuss the myopic view of the Forum’s programs, and whether the Forum deserved further funding. This sentiment was echoed by other foundations and organizations that I interviewed in my first months on the job in the summer of 1991. 

Having little to lose, we restructured and polished existing programs, and designed some totally new programs within the first two years. Among these experiments were the Faith Partners program and a College Residency program.

The first, Faith Partners, placed composers in an 18 month long residency of 3 Minnesota-area churches/synagogues, writing 6 pieces of shared music. Surprisingly, recruiting the churches and synagogues was quite easy—many of them were looking for ways to invigorate their congregations and to develop working relationships with other faith-based institutions in their community or in another part of the state. However, one of the hallmarks of the program which differentiated it from most other arts programs that export art and artists, was our insistence that the consortia each listen to composers tapes, interview and select the finalists. The Forum would recruit composer applicants, but wouldn’t do the selection.

From my corporate background, I learned that to get, and more important, to keep consumers, they have to make the choice-- in this case the choice of composer. I had no idea this was such a revolutionary idea in the arts, where the usual practice is for an expert panel or organization to put the imprimatur on the “good” art or artists and tour them around.

The Forum’s approach for Faith Partners, takes a lot of time and effort to execute: we have to solicit church and synagogue applicants, listen to their choirs, then match them into a suitable consortium. We then have to recruit and organize composer applicants from our regional members, and then coach the consortia through the selection projects, often trying to convince some of the Faith Partners participants that they really have good ideas and ears, and are more than capable of selecting a quality composer with whom they can work.

The benefit of the Forum’s approach is that, despite the long planning time, our partnerships never fall apart. Because the faith based institutions determine the partnership projects and chose the composer they want, they are committed to making the residency work. And, after all, these alliances don’t last but a year and a half, and we all know that almost anyone can make a marriage last that long!

Another lesson we learned from Faith Partners was that the program was most meaningful to rural churches and to Catholic churches. In the former, having an artist in residence was a big deal in a small town, and since we encouraged the composers to find ways to relate their host churches to the larger community, the composers learn to play a vital entrepreneurial role, and along the way garner widespread recognition that usually eludes them in Twin Cities. The Catholic churches, by the way, often welcomed some high art in settings historically rich, but reduced to guitar singalongs after Vatican II. (I can say this since I was raised Catholic).

At the same time, through the good offices of one of our Board members, we developed a College Residency program for composers. The idea here was that colleges would design an interdisciplinary residency, and composers across the nation would be invited to apply.  Our pilot was at Bemidji State University, where the college wanted a composer to design and execute a project to tie together their Native American population (Bemidji is located between 3 reservations), a Japanese paper exhibit at the College Museum, and their spring lake festival. No small task!

The winning application, by a Boston composer, Andy Vores, proposed several college wide creative activities, culminating in a music theatre performance centered on the retelling of the Orpheus myth through the stories and songs of various cultures: Western classical, Nez Perce Indian, Japanese Noh Drama and African folk tale. The final event, on Mother’s Day 1992, was a fabulous, two hour experience with original poems, music, dances and sets advancing this classic tale. The audience leaped up at the end and gave a standing ovation that went on and on, something almost never seen in new music.

But the most touching aspect of this project was the Dean’s introduction at the dinner preceding the performance. She said, her voice breaking, that in all her years at Bemidji they had never really engaged the large Native American population. The reservation students came to classes, but were not part of the college’s life. But through this residency, she said, Native Americans participated, for the first time, in a college-wide project. Moreover, to the astonishment of the University administration, the reservations had decided to hire several buses to bring residents to the packed performance.

The lesson for the Forum, that informed our other programs, particularly Continental Harmony, was that when all participants have substantial voice, when no culture is better than another, when each group can tell its story, the collaborative possibilities are enormous, far richer, far longer lasting.

Emboldened by the Bemidji experience, plus other residencies at Winona State and St. Thomas, and informed by the success of Faith Partners in rural communities, we decided to call 35 rural festival organizations in Minnesota to see if they would ever want a composer to work with them. To our amazement, everyone signed up. The problem was getting the money to fund this idea.

We finally got some Rockefeller Foundation money in about 1997 to pilot some rural Minnesota composer residencies. We would incorporate the fundamental lessons of Faith Partners and the College program into the design of a new Rural Commissioning Program: a host committee would represent several local institutions, the locality would define the project and pick the composer, and the composer would write for a local ensemble. The pilot projects were in Grand Marais (local ensembles played for inauguration of new hall), Grand Rapids (song cycle for Judy Garland Festival based on her poems) and New Ulm (town song for men’s chorus and band).

During this period NEA asked for ideas from many national organizations for ways to celebrate the millennium in all 50 states. They thought Faith Partners might be a suitable project for us to propose, but I advised them that with the NEA’s precarious funding situation, and the battles over church/state separation, this was not the program with which to lead. I talked with them instead about our new Rural Commissioning Program and they were intrigued.

The conversations with the NEA continued over the next year, and we learned that our idea was one of the dozen or so finalists. We agreed with the NEA that we would include urban underserved as well as rural communities among the applicants to meet their political needs. But we would not budge on letting the communities select the composers from an open application call; the NEA was very skeptical about letting communities do the selection—after all, how could the people in Podunk know what was good music. The NEA also urged us to develop an approved list of composers from which communities could choose one; again we would not compromise our principles, that seemed revolutionary to everyone else but us! 

In June 1998 we launched Continental Harmony with a reception for Bill Ivey, the new NEA chairman. Later that summer we mailed 12,000 applications to mayors, civic organizations and arts institutions around the nation (show poster). They were invited to outline a civic theme—an historical event, a current issue, or future hopes—to celebrate at the time of the millennium. We recommended that the premieres occur on July 4, 2000, so that we could maximize civic pride and publicity. The community applicants also had to outline composer residency activities to integrate this guest artist into their community. Within 6 weeks (despite a way too short timetable) we had 100’s of applications. We were thrilled that our approach was working on a national level.

We then convened a national panel of people who understood both music and community arts, and they selected the best project per state; a few more were recommended projects pending additional funding, which is why we ended up with 58 sites in all.

Late fall we mailed the list of funded sites to 5000 composers around the country. We received over 500 applications to the various sites; composers applied to a specific site or two, sending not only professional material and tapes, but an essay on what they would do to maximize the residency, and how they would approach writing the music. The communities then had about a month to review the materials, and interview the finalists in person or by phone. By March 1999 the partners were picked.

The first premiere was in Grand Forks, in late February, 2000. The project was to develop a choral work to commemorate the massive Red River floods and community rebuilding. Steve Heitzeg, from the Twin Cities, was the composer chosen by the North Dakota committee. As part of his residency he interviewed local folks about their view of the river; many later said that for the first time they could talk about their love, but also fear of their river, their fear that the river might destroy their community again. Steve also worked with school children and the wonderful University of North Dakota art museum. He found an old iron bed, and had the children collect driftwood, shells, flowers and grasses from the river banks that they then tied to this iron “river bed,” along with personal notes and small objects representing the possessions they had lost in the flood.

At the culminating concert, the chorus sang Steve’s touching work, “What the River Says,” that comprised three sections, with the last featuring a ballad about the river. After a lengthy standing ovation, the conductor turned to the audience and had them sing the ballad, whose words were taken from the residents’ interviews. Thunderous clapping was interlaced with tears and embraces. I was hugged by many unknown attendees, in what became a Pentecostal-like healing service. People thanked Steve for expressing their hopes and anxieties in music.

I was astonished, relieved and deeply moved. I knew that Continental Harmony was not just a good project, but that it could do something for these fragile communities that no government aid or social services could do. Continental Harmony was bigger than all of us. 

About that same time the Knight Foundation, another Continental Harmony funder, asked if we’d be willing to have a PBS documentary made of the program, since they thought Continental Harmony represented an extraordinary new model for the arts. Knight engaged our own local Twin Cities Public Television and a NY producer to make a one hour documentary, telling in-depth stories of five sites, with brief clips about 5 more. The documentary, which has been seen in millions of households, first aired in October, 2001; because it so closely followed the events of 9/11 it was had had a long life with its message of hope and healing. An accompanying web site, which I urge you all to visit, was developed primarily for students to learn how a composer works.  

I’d now like to show you a 9 minute tape which we developed from our video footage and from the PBS show, in order to explain the program to communities, composers, and of course, funders. The theme music in the opening and closing segments, by the way, is from the Fitchberg, Massachusetts orchestral performance.

Thank you. I’d like now to explain some of our findings from our assessment of this first round of Continental Harmony, and tell you about some of the current projects. You saw Dr. Patricia Shifferd in the video, the Director of Continental Harmony, whom we hired in June, 1998 to run the program. Pat, who would be with us here today but for elbow surgery from a recent fall at our North Carolina Continental Harmony site (our staff really throws themselves into their work), is a sociologist and anthropologist, and the former dean of Northland College in Ashland, Wisconsin. Pat is not only an amazing manager, but is interested in measuring the impact of the arts on community building. When Rockefeller Foundation learned of her expertise, they asked if they could fund us to better document and measure this historic program.

Pat’s multi-part research involved the hiring of some independent measurement contractors so that we could guarantee honest evaluation (I’d be glad to provide more in-depth information on this for those who are interested).  The findings, now contained in a 125-page book, guided us in our fine-tuning the program after the Millennium celebrations, particularly regarding the makeup of the community coalitions, the project leadership, and various residency details. While I certainly don’t have time to list and elucidate the many conclusions of the assessment study, I’d like to talk about the community development aspects of Continental Harmony, for me the most thrilling legacy of this program.

In a nutshell, we learned from Continental Harmony that when you bring people together to celebrate their shared histories, their common values and visions, you often solve many underlying tensions and divisions. Most approaches to community divisiveness involve sitting the parties down and talking about their differing views and goals, then mediating compromise goals and behaviors. It’s a bit like marriage counseling: the airing of your frustrations and disappointments can often reinforce your underlying anger and alienation.

But in Continental Harmony we start by identifying our commonalities and celebrating them. And in the buildup to a final musical performance, a small group’s enthusiasm can sweep up others and translate into community-wide pride; particularly significant was Continental Harmony’s impact on rural youth who said that for the first time they felt a real pride in their home towns.

This invigoration of a locality often leads to solving problems well outside the arts arena, problems such as economic redevelopment, immigrant integration, racial healing, and on and on. And, to our amazement, many of the Continental Harmony coalitions continue, often commissioning their original composer, or venturing into new partnerships with new artists.

I could tell you scores of wonderful stories, but here are just a few. David City Nebraska, whose site coordinator you saw in the video, said that Continental Harmony gave his dying farm community hope they could save it (By the way over half the town attended the premiere, a choral setting of poems written for the occasion). 

In Farmington and Jay, Maine, an area divided ethnically and socio-economically, the French and Anglos were given money to build a new concert hall because a premiere attendee was embarrassed that they had to perform in a high school gym, and the community chorus formed for the project is still performing in both communities.

Fitchberg, Massachusetts wanted an economic revival theme song. The composer wrote a march within an orchestral work, performed numerous times since, celebrating this mill town’s ignored riverfront. Now the mayor is planning to build a band shell on the river banks and the arts are a key part in the town’s revitalization plan; in fact, the Continental Harmony coordinator is in charge of the city’s revitalization task force.

In Grand Forks Steve Heitzeg’s piece has become the community’s anthem. We are again working there to premiere a CH 2 orchestral work, with a residency which partners the surrounding reservations, the local symphony and the museum.

And the Grand Canyon project, a snippet of which you saw on the video, has had extraordinary results in 2000 and beyond. That site’s composer, Native American Brent Michael Davids, a Minneapolis resident, now teaches Arizona reservation children how to compose music (the music is performed to great acclaim, I might add). We would like to expand this concept to the reservation youth in Minnesota, pending funding.

We expect the same community building results with Continental Harmony 2, as we develop projects in 15 to 20 states a year, with ongoing support from the NEA, Rockefeller and Knight Foundations. Some of the most promising projects include Dearborn, Michigan where we have established a partnership with the Arab-American Community Center for Economic and Social Service and the University of Michigan Music Society to support Simon Shaheen, an Arab-American composer.  Shaheen is writing a composition for the opening of a new Arab-American museum.

The Forum plans to nurture this coalition, and to play an even larger role in the reconciliation of Arab and North American cultures.

In California’s Central Valley, generally considered a cultural wasteland, we are working with a Modesto community organization to train youth in the Mariachi tradition; they will perform with a local youth orchestra. In Long Beach, we are helping knit together the Anglo and Hispanic communities with a coalition between the Symphony Orchestra and Museum of Latin American Art. Two composers, one from Pennsylvania, the other from Mexico City, are collaborating on a symphonic work to be performed in both California and Mexico.  

In Minnesota, we are partnering with Abbott Northwestern Hospital to place a composer in residence. This composer would work with the caregivers and doctors, plus residents of the Phillips neighborhood, to write a work for the opening of the new Heart Hospital wing. We believe that this model can be developed into a national program for all medical institutions.

We are also developing a wonderful St. Paul project, “Rondo Harmony,” based on oral histories of this sundered neighborhood. The organizers want this project to provide a rallying point for the rebirth of community institutions and infrastructure along Selby Avenue. “Rondo Harmony”, for which we will be seeking funding, is a pilot of the kind of engagement and trust building the Forum needs to develop as we become, hopefully, a real player in community development.

We all expect the arts to elevate, entertain and, occasionally, enrage us. I hope I have also shown you how the arts can provide a catalyst for building community spirit, energizing the resigned, integrating the forgotten, all the while transcending age, color and religion.

Continental Harmony is but one model for making this a better, more optimistic, more cohesive country. We at the American Composers Forum will continue to do it the old fashioned way, one community at a time. Thank you.

Additional material, from New Yorker, September 2002

Auden, in a pregnant fragment, even glimpsed what may be the only rational theory of art in an open society: art, he writes, “is one of the most powerful means of transforming closed communities into open ones, in moving people from passion to desire.” Instead of inflaming a passion, an incoherent and irrational want, the artists disciplines it to a desire, something exact. He takes a feeling and makes it into a thought—or, at least, a though-through feeling. This is high sounding, but it is plain truth. Why were so many, after 9/11, drawn to Auden’s poems save that reading them helped us to make the overwhelming passions of the time—fear, rage—into specific desires: to have a voice, to affirm a truth, to speak to a friend, to love more wisely. “For art had set in order sense/And feeling an intelligence,/And from its ideal order grew/Our local understanding too.”

UST Commencement Speech

By Linda Hoeschler, July 25, 2003

 

Thank you for the double honors you are awarding me today: first the honorary degree, and perhaps more thrilling, the opportunity to speak to you students  I sincerely applaud each of you for your diligent work securing your degree—this sheepskin is proof positive of your devotion to learning and self-improvement. And as one who received a master’s degree, but lacked the fortitude to pursue my PhD, I am particularly in awe of the newly minted doctors in this audience.

I am most grateful to St. Thomas for honoring my work today, both that done at the American Composers Forum on behalf of the composers and communities of America, and that offered as a Board member of St. Thomas.

My service to St. Thomas has been, in fact, more the reverse: St. Thomas has served me richly in terms of intellectual and spiritual growth. Over the past decade I have had the most wonderful opportunities here to work with and learn from exceptional people, particularly the students. While it may sound insincere to state you love and care about an ever-changing group, the students of St. Thomas have compelled my mind, and won my heart, forever.

As you leave this campus and go forward in life, I truly hope your appreciation and admiration of St. Thomas grows, and that you, in turn, make personal sacrifices to support its students and its work.

I presume that each of you has a plan, whether vague or well-defined, outlining what you’d like to do with your newly garnered degree. I am going to ask you to put that plan aside, at least for the duration of my speech. For each of you suspects, I am sure, that whatever endeavor you’ve trained for today, will probably radically change within 10 years. The job you covet now may not even exist ten years from now, at least in the same form. You might not even want that job, anyway.

Instead of remaining anchored to your current plan, which may only lead to disappointment and frustration, I would like to suggest a more fluid way to approach the rest of your life. All you need are three things: a focus on your personal values, the mind of a baby, and the eyes of an immigrant. I’m going to talk about these in reverse order.

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of personal genealogical research. What astonishes me, over and over, are the incredible stories of our immigrating ancestors. None of mine were famous or persons of notable achievement, but despite that, all were inspirational models.

When faced with poverty, poor education, lack of English, discrimination and other seemingly endless challenges, my settling ancestors, and yours, fundamentally found America to be a place of unceasing opportunity.

Each had more than enough reasons to inspire 10 lifetimes of depression, especially those who came here unwillingly. Instead, they figured out how to make America work for them. They made things, they started small enterprises, many of which failed, only to re-invent others. They homesteaded land and sometimes lost it.

Well, that was then, and this is now, so you may think. Life today is more complicated and demanding. Our cities are more crime ridden and less community oriented. But is there less opportunity?

Look at the immigrants around us, some certainly in this class of graduates. They start with the menial jobs, the ones that are “below us”, and somehow manage to send money back home. Some fail, of course, but for the most part, each of us should try to catch a case of their enthusiasm!

I am truly amazed at the more recent Twin Cities immigrants, the Hmongs and Africans,  who think this a great place to live, despite our harsh winters. These tropical emigrants express gratitude for the ability to work at all. Moreover, they all seem to have plans for the future: ideas and openings you and I would overlook. (Just the other day I called a Russian-born accordionist to play at a party, and he offered to clean my house and office.)

I urge each of us to consistently look at our communities, jobs and families with eyes that behold opportunities galore, not insurmountable barriers. The eyes of the immigrant.

About 20 years ago I read an article that continues to intrigue me. The journal of the Bell Museum at the University of Minnesota posed the question, “Why does nature make babies?”  The writer detailed the substantial drawbacks of babies: almost no infant on earth is born self-sufficient or able to defend itself. Most reptile and mammal parents need to feed, groom and train their babies for lengthy times. Babies are clearly a poor means to continue each species.

Or are they?  In physical terms, babies may be inefficient. But the genius of babies lies in another realm, lack of memory. Because babies have no memory, they are far more adaptable than their progenitors. Instead of being confounded by changes, babies grow up devising ways to adapt, ways often impossible for their parents.

To think that all my life I’ve believed and, in turn preached, that those of us who forget history are condemned to repeat it. While there is truth there, consider the flip side of this maxim. At what point does our history cripple our ability to adapt to change?

How often do we resist a person, idea or situation because of past negative experiences? Consider how much more empowered we would be if we approached previously distasteful situations or people as the first encounter. Like a baby, we would not only be open to the person or setting, we would try to discern how they could entertain or help us.

Babies are optimistic, curious, self-centered and unprejudiced. Each of us would do well to approach personal hurdles created by past experiences with a newborn’s mind, unhampered by memory. Lack of memory can be a very good thing, a really comforting thought at my age, and a possibly galvanizing idea at your age. The mind of a baby. 

Now for the most critical idea that I’d like you to consider, the structuring of your life around your personal values, not around material expectations, nor around goals that others have suggested. You have sole custody of your entire life, so why not craft it around matters that fascinate and compel you?

I urge each of you today, or within a week, to write down your values regarding your family, community, work, spirit, health, recreation etc. What are the core beliefs that reflect your soul? Then write down a parallel list of your current activities.  Do the sum of your activities realize your key values? Probably not, because most of us confuse our work resume with a meaningful life.

Starting today, shape your life’s activities—your job, your family, your reading, your volunteer commitments—around your core beliefs. These beliefs, by the way, will change little as you age, so they can guide you better than any current career plan. I also suggest that whenever external changes disorient you, just revisit your list of internal values for comfort and for guidance. These are your eternal truths.

You will do your best work and make your most significant contributions if you know that you are spending your time on things important to you. Moreover, you will never need to advertise, explain or argue your beliefs, because your life will be your message. A focus on values.

I wish each of you joy and passion, and hope you consider my modest ideas: shaping the rest of your life around your personal values, and living it with the accepting, open mind of a baby, and the wonder-filled eyes of an immigrant. Thank you. 

Managing Your Career

(or How to Become Self Employed)

by Linda L. Hoeschler, March 13, 2002

  

·      Reflect on some lessons learned which helped me advance career both within and between organizations

·      Offer these from the viewpoint that we each must assume responsibility for managing our own careers and must be prepared to quickly adapt to changing demands and opportunities

·      With thoughtful analysis of our skills, personal values and work environment, can set some positive goals to manage our jobs and career changes

 1. Pursue Your Passions: Match your activities with your values

·      Before you can develop a satisfying career plan, you must view your career within the context of your entire life

·      Develop parallel lists

1. One listing your values and goals re: family, friends, money, job, health, spiritual, and community

2. List current activities in each category

·      Develop a plan or set of plans to get them in sync. Create a life which reflects your values
 

2. Keep on Training: Consistently work on increasing your assets to improve your marketability and enhance your choices

·      Assess your existing assets or skills

1.     use updated resume

2.     consult industrial psychologist

·      Determine assets needed

1.     Assess your technical skills in your current (or future) profession:  do you know your field in depth; are you on the cutting edge of developments

2.     Grade your portable skills (those good in any industry):

#1 is oral communications (ability to listen and convey information)

writing (computer)

organizational ability; efficiency (for self and others)

finance, human resources., sales, training, computer

other keys: interpersonal, stress management, ability to learn, ability to problem solve

·      Develop a training plan (tailored to how you learn best, e.g. classes, tapes, reading, interviewing, etc.)

1.     Always learn as much as you can from work: training, classes, co-workers, meetings, company literature, task forces

2.     Read

3.     Take outside classes

4.     Volunteer work (right; learn skills; network) 

3. Be a Political Hack: A Smart Career Manager Practices Smart Corporate Politics

Definition of smart politics: Developing support from others (especially those who don’t report to you) so you can do your job well.

Elements of smart politics or recognizing the culture:

·      Peer support: most important factor in job success

1.     Use first 6 months on job to build a network

2.     The ability to work within a group is a skill you must demonstrate in order to get ahead

·      Boss support:  companies often judge you on how you get along with your boss. Factors:

1.     Be loyal; try to understand his/her pressures—not undying respect or blind devotion

2.     Compliment and coach; watch timing

3.     Do 3 most important things (to boss)

4.     Keep informed about your work; pass on helpful information

5.     Pointing out his/her shortcoming highlights your lack of character and good judgment

·      Choose battles carefully (6 silver bullets) 

·      Hire internally; hire better than you; develop a backup(s); keep an up to date inventory of the talent around you

·      Encourage people to be smart; add responsibility and see how they do

·      Correct ‘stereotypes’ about you:

1.     Overweight; techies; MBA; work-family balancer; job hopper; over 40; low-level job holder.

·      Maintain modesty at all times: “It’s only me.”

·      Don’t spread rumors; focus on results and ignore mindless speculation

·      Avoid profanity and control your moods: if you can’t manage your emotions, how can you manage others?

·      Resigning: be positive about employer; don’t threaten it as a job negotiation tool

·      Passed over: learn from it; Fired: handle gracefully 

4: Just do it: Always be a self-starter, work hard, and if blocked expand your power base

·      Companies are looking for people who can handle less supervision but take on more responsibility

·      The best measure of future job success is past performance; companies are looking for people who work hard day in and out, not for the sporadic genius who offers a few flashy performances

·      The ability to perform maintenance activities is particularly important for those with a reputation as start-up, turnaround, or star performers

·      Always work to increase profits—think of the customers’ needs

·      Some caveats while working hard:

1.     Reprioritize your work each day

2.     Don’t work 80 hours a week

3.     Do what you agree to; don’t agree to the impossible

4.     Do well in areas perceived as weak 

If you’re self starting, working hard, but either blocked from promotion or bored,  you can still develop your career by expanding your power base:

·      Create a new job for yourself—get out of middle management

1.     Take on work that needs doing

2.     Create or join task forces with study issues and propose solutions

·      Benefits of this new job creation:

1.     Acquire skills

2.     Increase your value to employer since more knowledgeable, productive, and not pressuring the organization to solve your problems

·      Caveats

1.     Don’t neglect your core job ( and let your boss know)

2.     Be a team player as you expand your territory: this point applies to Lesson 3

5.Take a Flyer: To get out of middle management show leadership, take risks and forget what others think.

·      You want to be recognized as a leader; remember “A desk is a dangerous place from which to view the world

·      A leader is a catalyst for thinking and cooperation, in other words, leveraging others 

·      A leader challenges the status quo in order to learn more and discover how to do things better

·      Prepare to be unpopular (sometimes difficult for women)

·      Know thyself and what you can offer

·      Be decisive; don’t dither; solve problems yourself

·      Risk

1.     Present new ideas even if they’re shot down

2.     Tackle hopeless projects; learn to rebound quickly

3.     Be willing to say “it’s my fault,” showing you are not so small minded as to blame others

·      Credit others; toot your horn sparingly

·      Dress for the next job

·      “Keep people happy, exceed expectations and good things will happen.”

6. Jumping Ship: Prepare Yourself for a Career Change (you’ll probably have to at some time) and Know When to Change

Preparation:

·      Keep your resume up to date

1.     Know significant job and career accomplishments and quantify them

2.     Cite obstacles overcome and skills learned

·      Save money

·      Clearly identify those factors you want in next job (values, co-workers, boss, experience, money, peace of mind, etc.)

·      Pay for assessment by industrial psychologist: gets courage up

1.     You can’t be half-hearted in a job search

2.     Be prepared to fail

·      Groom a successor

·      Protect your ego: get personal life in order; since work provides our primary social circle, need to develop other support structures 

1.     Simplify life with rituals, lists and delegation

2.     Watch health and exercise; maintain outside interests; feel good about yourself

3.     Don’t take issues and self too seriously; don’t change jobs if getting divorced

When to consider a job change:

·      Assess if your job has a future:

1.     Is your boss well regarded and moving up?

2.     Do supervisors spend time in developing your skills?

3.     Are you challenged and still learning on the job?

4.     How does your company view you in terms of: comparable pay; acting upon your recommendations; passing over you

5.     Is your company a market leader and in an industry with a future; is it developing new products or resting on its laurels?

·      Are you chronically sick or late?

·      Have you been demoted or asked to take a career counseling course?

Evaluating a new job:

·      How does it meet the key factors you set for next job?

·      Are your values and style similar to that of the CEO and management team?

·      If the new employer has or is downsizing, are they retraining their existing workers? (Cite long term stock trends) 

7. Changing Identity: Becoming a manager can make or break your career, depending on your ability to switch gears

Behaviors that get you to the top (aggressiveness, solo-performance), are often inappropriate. Need to replace them with these three 

·      Set the example for ethics, hard work, sensitivity to employee needs and buffering: do right by the company and by the employee 

·      Provide a simple vision for your staff; set 1-3 goals a year (with employee input as to how to choose and achieve them) 

·      Make stars of your employees:

1.     Choose people better than you

2.     Develop a team by solving problems and developing plans; help them see how their values fit with those of the organization

3.     Manage each employee in the style with he/she needs (director, coach, or delegator)

4.     Give them feedback and help them reach their goals

5.     Show them your appreciation; appreciation is the number 1 employee request

Jerome Hill’s Legacy to Artists

May 9, 2005

Many private foundations in America bear a deceased donor’s name. But none seems to mirror and leverage its donor’s private interests and public largesse better than the Jerome Foundation. The St.Paul-based charity models its grants after the passionate personal commitments of its founder, Jerome Hill, by helping out artists, especially the new and unknown. As a result, Hill’s lifetime giving, coupled with his legacy grants, have had a huge, unparalleled and continuing impact on American artists.  

The effect of Hill’s endowment is even more amazing, given that the corpus is a moderate $79 million (from an initial gift of $2 million). Since inception in 1964 through April 2004, Hill and his Foundation have given almost 4000 grants totaling $60.5 million. The average-size grant is $15,000, often parsed into sub-grants to serve more artists. But even in 2005, 100 years after Jerome Hill’s birth, a modest grant often represents a critical infusion toward birthing a new piece of art. It is exactly what Jerome Hill wanted to do, and did, so gracefully.

Hill was born into a family that was far more than silver spoon and carriage trade. His grandfather, James Jerome Hill, his namesake, was one of the great industrial barons of the late 19th and early 20th century. James J. Hill was a larger-than-life dynamo whose influence and power shaped and shadowed his family, community and nation. Jerome Hill could have chosen an obvious career working in the family railroad or bank, or lived a pleasant life pursuing hobbies and travel. Instead he disciplined himself to seriously study composition, painting and filmmaking, and then went on to work hard making art. He was pretty good in the first two disciplines, and really good at the last, filmmaking. He hoped that the fame of his art work would survive his death, and in that he modestly succeeded. But his exemplary support of individual artists has become the famous creation of Jerome Hill that definitely survives his death.

Hill’s financial gifts were often anonymous, although the source was apparent when recipients’ project checks arrived with a St. Paul postmark. Years ago I met a director in New York City who told me that “everyone in the arts knew that when they were desperate for some money to complete a project, you could go to Jerome Hill and he’d help you out. There was no one else like him.”

Interestingly enough, when Hill formalized his giving in 1964 by establishing the Avon Foundation (Hill family foundations were named after St. Paul streets), artists and the arts were not mentioned in its Articles of Incorporation. “The purpose of this corporation shall be…to use and distribute its income and principal exclusively for charitable, educational, literary, religious and scientific purposes…” A few years later, 1967, Hill established the Camargo Foundation, a residential center for humanities and social science scholars and artists pursuing French culture-related research, on his Cassis, France estate.

Al Heckman initially staffed the Avon Foundation, working with Jerome and his brother, Louis W. Hill. Grants went to a kaleidoscope of charitable organizations and projects, some barely reflecting Jerome’s personal interests. Jerome Hill was being a good citizen. Jonas Mekas, the New York City filmmaker and film historian, convinced Jerome to give not just personal money to artists, but also foundation grants. That theme soon became the Foundation’s through line. Camargo awards complimented this support, offering its dramatic Cassis facilities on the Mediterranean (12 apartments, library, atelier and music studio), plus stipends, to artists (now over 100) developing creative projects.

After Jerome Hill died in 1972, the Avon Foundation Board decided to pattern its grants more closely on Jerome Hill’s personal giving. The name was changed to the Jerome Foundation, and artists were added to the Board. Because Hill was from Minnesota but lived so many years in New York City, grants were gradually restricted to and split between those regions, giving more clarity and impact to the foundation’s relatively small grants.

Jerome Hill’s venturesome support of experimental, not established artists was adopted by the Foundation in the late 70’s. Many of these artists pushed artistic and social boundaries with iconoclastic or new forms of art. Some were the outsiders whom Hill had also embraced: female artists, artists with alternative sexual preferences, and artists making confrontational art. Hill viewed the artist as a magician, and intensely believed that all these creators should be able to make their work, even if it failed. In his 1972 “Film Portrait” he voiced some passionate ideas about the value of artists. “The only real valid present is the eternal moment, seized and set down once and for all; that is the creation of the arts.” “Every artist lends his own eyes to his audience.”

Quantifying the impact of Jerome Hill’s ongoing gifts to artists and to the artistic life of Minnesota and New York City is, of course, difficult, possibly a fool’s errand. Grant statistics can be cited and quotes proffered, but these don’t begin to convey the emotion attached to a Jerome grant. I speak as a former Board member who subsequently went on to run a non-profit service organization whose New York and Minnesota members flourished because of Jerome Hill’s legacy. Wearing my Board hat, I toured the facilities of many New York arts organizations and met recipient artists. Their stories of particular grants at key times in their early careers always provoked pride. A few dollars, carefully shaped and targeted, helped stabilize many a program, catalyzed some exciting (and occasionally less than stellar!) art works, and engendered confidence in young artists working in adventuresome art. This is Jerome Hill’s spirit writ large.

In summary terms, the 3973 grants totaling about $60.55 million that the Foundation gave during its first forty years (through April 2004), can be divided into seven disciplines. Over 17% of the dollars, roughly $10.5 million, has gone to Media Arts, particularly film and video, Jerome Hill’s most significant area of artistic work and personal philanthropy. The next largest recipient category is Visual Arts, where16% of the whole ($9.9 million) was allocated among emerging artists and the organizations that support them. Strong Theater communities in both New York and Minnesota attracted a bit over $9.8 million from the Foundation (16%). Music grants, where the Foundation targets the creation, development and production of new works, totaled $7.9 million or almost 13%. Receiving about the same percentage (with $7.8 million) is Multidisciplinary art, a newer and burgeoning category in which artists combine several disciplines to create their works. Dance grants to emerging choreographers and their companies totaled $6.7 million or 11%. Literature has received the smallest portion, $5.4 million or 9%, where writers often work independently from the few literary support organizations.

The impact of the Media Arts grants is astonishing, given that the $10.5 million allocated to this category would barely begin to underwrite a commercial Hollywood film. About 2/3 of the film and video money has supported New York City artists, reflecting the large number of significant independent film and video artists residing in the five boroughs. Over 350 NYC and 100-plus Minnesota production grants helped generate documentaries, dramas, animated films and experimental works. Award-winning documentaries funded by Jerome include Born into Brothels (2004 Academy Award) and The Collector of Bedford Street. Drama director recipients such as Spike Lee and Mira Nair got early underwriting for works that launched their spectacular careers. The media artist recipients generally praise the absence of editorial strictures, plus the critical timing of financial support when they had few non-family/friends as backers.

Just as Jerome Hill was passionately committed to experimental film, his legacy foundation has supported seminal avant-garde filmmakers such as Stan Brakhage and Jonas Mekas, as well as more modern innovators who do video installations, create virtual environments, and experiment with new media technology. Other media beneficiaries include visionary media arts organizations that provide critical facilities for emerging creators. Minnesota artists in this and other disciplines also benefited from Travel and Study grants, a key artist development program underwritten by several Minnesota foundations.

Thousands of Visual Artists have benefited from 636 grants to institutions, primarily for exhibition programs, with Minnesota receiving the majority (60%) of funds. Artists can create their art alone, yet seldom have the means to exhibit it. Jerome has often been the solo outside funder of these invaluable venues.

Jerome-underwritten commissions, residencies, fellowships, mentoring, critical review, project grants and travel, represent seminal infusions to artists’ careers and creative development. For example, Minnesota photographers Alec Soth and Jan Estep, and sculptural artist Chris Larson, received early Jerome investments that helped catapult them into the national arena. Artists invariably report that outside funding allowed them to purchase materials, increase and improve their output, reconsider their art because of a changed environment coupled with critical feedback, get catalogue documentation, and connect with a commercial agent/gallery. While these small grants only begin to solve some of the issues facing artists today, they stimulate creative works that make for more enlightened and livable communities.

Playwrights, like media artists, probably face the largest challenges among all artists in terms of getting production of and feedback on their work.  Through 565 key Theater grants, Minnesota and New York City playwrights have benefited from production and career assistance, as well as mentoring by the likes of August Wilson and Lisa D’Amour. Playwright support (with about 58% of the total dollars directed to Minnesota) has included training, opportunities to create and develop new work (such as travel, readings and fellowships), critical assessment or full production.

In many cases immigrant and of-color playwrights have been given their first public voice through Jerome Hill’s funds, accelerating both our understanding of their cultures and their integration into our society. Again, this mirrors Jerome Hill’s pattern of producing and supporting art that is meaningful. For many recipient artists, a Jerome grant has amounted to an imprimatur, leveraging connections and serious consideration by theaters, festivals and directors.

The vitality of the new Music community in Minnesota, now a major venue able to compete with the coasts, is substantially attributable to artists’ support by Jerome Hill funds. And emerging NYC composers have often cited Jerome as their only support in their highly competitive metropolis. At a time when institutions have generally neglected investing in music creators, Jerome has been boldly willing to go it alone.

Jerome grants have supported then-emerging but now-famous composers such as Pulitzer-prize winner Aaron Jay Kernis, as well as Bun-Ching Lam, Brent Michael Davids, and scores of others. Consistent with its theme of supporting the creation, development and production of new works by emerging artists, the Foundation has underwritten commission, travel and performance programs executed by service and producing organizations. As these emerging composers and other artists become successful, Jerome now offers mid-career grants, again providing career boosts at critical times.

Just as the lines within artistic disciplines have blurred with the availability of new media and machines, so have the lines between disciplines as artists integrate multiple art forms in their creations. Recognizing its inability to categorize these works, Jerome was one of the first foundations to adopt a Multidisciplinary funding area. Despite its relative newness, this is an expensive medium and reflects 13% of total historic grants, with a 55/45 break between Minnesota and NYC. Seminal grants have leveraged major careers for artists such as Karen Finley, Danny Hoch and the Alladeen international project. Some of the largest, most unwieldy, most provocative, and most memorable art stems from this category.

The Dance explosion in America since the 1960’s, centered in New York City, but with a healthy chapter in Minnesota, was fueled by early and sustained investments by the Hill funds. The recipients are, without exception, the major creators of modern dance today, including Bill T. Jones, Stephen Petronio, Urban Bush Women, Ralph Lemon, David Dorfman in NYC and Danny Buraczewski in Minnesota. Grants supported individual works, but were more critically targeted to sustain, for three to seven years, the fragile companies of independent choreographers. To encourage momentum, other funds underwrote programs that elicited and nurtured the next generation of emerging choreographers.

Assistance spurring new Literature has been particularly challenging, since writers are often the most solo of creators. In its first 40 years of funding, Jerome has explored many ways to support emerging writers, who often need developmental, critical and publication support. While Minnesota has been blessed in having the most non-profit publishers of literature in the United States, an obvious support system through which grants could be funneled, support of New York City writers has required more research and experimentation. The 400 Jerome grants made over 40 years have underwritten workshops, writers’ festivals, readings and residency programs, teaching and writing residencies, fellowships, publication opportunities and travel and study (the latter for Minnesota artists).

The writers’ post-funding reports are impressive in their gratitude, but more telling are the accounts of work advanced, careers improved and attitudes lifted. Belief in their ideas, critical feedback, money to complete a project, money to buy time to make art (the most precious commodity for any artist) are the hallmarks of Jerome Hill’s legacy to writers and to all artists.

The magical impact of Jerome Hill’s legacy grants emanates from the application of his ideas, not just his money. Artist communities in Minnesota and New York City have been encouraged to experiment, following Jerome Hill’s example. As one playwright wrote, “I firmly believe that the range and ambition of a writer’s work enlarges when they are freed from the burden of the commercially viable.” Because of Jerome Hill, many more artists have been able to lend us, the audience, their eyes. That is just as Hill thought it should be, and the blessing is that he then went on to make it possible.

 

Commencement Speech

University of Maryland Music School

By Linda L. Hoeschler, May 22, 2005 

Thank you for that warm introduction and for the exciting honor of speaking to you today. I feel like a poseur lecturing music graduates of talent and accomplishment, particularly since my piano playing has deteriorated from just decent to really lousy. Moreover, my early career’s work as a music critic produced recurrent nightmares in which the orchestral conductor didn’t show up, and the first violinist would point to me and shout: “If you’re so smart, you take the podium and conduct us!” So much for my dreams of great music making!

But despite my personal failings and anxieties in this art, I did go on, throughout and after a fairly successful corporate career, to stay involved in music: as a choral singer, writer, commissioner of music, and head of the now-largest composer organization in the world, the American Composers Forum. Music, particularly new music, has been one of the most powerful through lines of my life, offering me some of my greatest joys, profound comforts, enduring friendships and intellectual challenges. It is from these experiences and with this passion that I speak to you graduates today.

I am sure that all of you have and will receive warm congratulations on your graduation, often coupled with the question: “Now tell me, what will you do with your degree?” I suggest that you counter with this question: “Are you speaking about my music degree vis a vis my career, or my life or in society?” My career, my life, or in society. I’d like to offer some ideas regarding each, taking them in reverse order.

Our society today is permeated by passive music experiences, with wallpaper surround sound, buttons in the ear, iPods on every desk. John Cage’s composition, “4’33””-- all of it silence-- now seems more like music than the tonal noise that chronically assaults us. Music, once the apotheosis of man’s spirit, is now in danger of numbing our souls, as we tire of its constant presence or hear it blasting women and glorifying violence. Depressing, yes. Irreversible, no. 

Your role in society as musicians lies in your ability to make music: music as activity, not passivity. Share that ability. Your innate artistic talent, coupled with focus and discipline, has made you the musician you are today, a craftsman who can write, teach and perform music. You can do more than simply use your honed musical gift for your personal enjoyment and development. You can match your technical skills with an activist’s passion to help shape and enlighten our society. Teach us all how to become active participants, whether as your students, your friends and family, or your audience.

I urge you to do what artists do best: lend us your extraordinary ears, your eyes, your mind to interpret a composition, an idea, the world, in new and thoughtful ways.  That means much more than just sitting down and playing a piece.

I commend you first to continue to educate yourselves, not just in music, but in the ideas and events of history and of today. Read books and periodicals, attend lectures. Too often we in the arts only offer emotion, not compelling reasons, in proposing or defending, say, the role of arts in education. We often lack data or thoughtful analysis. We crumble and maybe even apologize for our primarily intuitive opinions when strongly challenged.

But when you are grounded in a sense of how the world we live in came to be, you can approach your classroom or concert hall with a greater context for your work, and a higher sense of purpose. In your lesson, programming or composition, tell us how this old or new work fits into our culture, and how and what we should listen for.

Find the Leonard Bernstein, Kenneth Clark, and Joseph Campbell in you: the scholar and the evangelist. Elevate us, amuse us, challenge us.

Remind us of the painful brevity of our lives, and that music, the most evanescent of the arts, can give us enduring insights and beauty. Help us see and hear the world through your senses. You can make this a more uplifting, less passive world, but you must be committed to do so. You don’t always have to be great, but you should always be compelling. So please lend us, your friends and countrymen, your ears, and help create a society brimming with active music participants. 

Now for the role of your music degree in your life. First of all, never equate your paid work with your life. As Gandhi said, your life is your message, not your jobs, your awards or your possessions. You probably all hope to get full-time jobs in music, and many of you will. For others, music will be a part-time vocation, often complemented by other employment.  Seeing your musical life within the context of your entire life can reduce work-seeking panic. In fact, I think it is the only way to view the import of today’s degree.

To understand where music fits within your life, I suggest that after the graduation festivities die, you write down a list of all your values: your values regarding your art, family, community, work, spirit, health, recreation, etc. Then write down a parallel list of your current activities. Do the sum of your activities realize your key values? Probably not, because most of us confuse our work resume with a meaningful life.

Remember, you have sole custody of your entire life, and that is the only fact that distinguishes you from all the thousands of music students graduating around the country this year. So why not craft a life around matters that fascinate and compel you? Music and your music career are only part of that equation.

Starting today, shape your life’s activities—your job, your family, your reading, your volunteer commitments—around your core beliefs. These beliefs, by the way, will change little as you age, so they can guide you better than any current career plan. These are your personal eternal truths.

You will do your best work and make your most significant contributions if you know that you are spending your time on things important to you. Moreover, if you fail in one area, you will have the counterbalancing support of your other values being realized.

Since I have the podium, I will urge one value for each of you life-managers to consider: the building of a music community. Because of a scarcity of jobs and performance opportunities, artists are in competition with each other. But that external condition doesn’t necessarily negate the construction of internal support.

The best artists I know are the most generous artists. They are fair in evaluating their peers, they attend each other’s performances, and they offer help when asked. Sure, they worry about their careers, but they don’t let that get in the way of building community. Are they generous because they are already successful and can afford the largesse? Could be, but I don’t think so. All I know is that they tell me they have never regretted a single act of kindness or a sacrifice to help another. They have been more than rewarded by good deeds that come their way. It’s not true that what goes round, just comes round. What goes round comes back in multiples.

Now for the most obvious answer to the question of what you are going to do with your music degree: a job, a career in music. Well, congratulations, but I would say to you that you are not entering a career in music, you are taking on the joint jobs of sole proprietor and educator. You are moving out of the predictable framework of academia into one of the most entrepreneurial fields today. You are about to launch your own enterprise.

Even if you secure a job in a school, ensemble or orchestra, you are going to have to keep promoting yourself as a musician, if you want to perform or compose on the side. A couple of courses in marketing and accounting may help, but there are many more things you can do to launch and maintain your career, your enterprise in music, whether or not it is your fulltime occupation. You need to develop patronage.

Let me take myself as an example. In 1980 my husband and I decided to commission a piece of music for our 15th wedding anniversary. We thought this would be a single event, a one-time endeavor. We asked Stephen Paulus, a Saint Paul composer whom I had met through some prior work, to write a chamber piece. From the beginning, Stephen deftly engaged us in deciding on the instrumentation, length and text. He periodically invited us to his home to play through the music as it developed. He not only educated us in the art of commissioning, he made it exciting, uplifting and joyful.

And what is the result today? My husband and I, now approaching our 40th anniversary, have commissioned over 70 new works of music. 15 years ago we launched a Commissioning Club to introduce 5 other couples to the fun of commissioning. That Club continues to thrive, and is the model for other such clubs around the country. With Stephen Paulus’ help, we are helping cultivate a better environment for the composers and performers of today’s new music, because he made the effort to train us how to become good commissioners, good patrons.

Dominick Argento is a very successful Minneapolis composer who has won the Pulitzer and multiple other prizes. A few years ago he told me that his career was going nowhere until Elisabeth Soderstrom fell in love with his music, and asked him to write more works for her. Dominick was at least 50 when that happened. When composers would come to me at the American Composers Forum, asking for career advice, I always told them about Dominick’s experience and suggested that they, too, should find the person or ensemble who loves their music, then write music for them. Don’t think you always need to find new performers or a new audience. Remember to cultivate your existing fans.

A few weeks ago in New York, I had breakfast with a friend who runs a national music performers organization. We were talking about the art of developing patrons, and he told me a story. About a year ago he ran into an old friend who introduced him to a young pianist at his side. The pianist took my friend’s card and began sending him periodic emails about performances, competitions, with sound clips. My friend said that a few months later he was called for the name of a substitute pianist. Guess whose name he suggested. My friend had become his patron.

Each of us has a personal work style. It doesn’t really matter whether or not you’re an introvert or extrovert, whether or not you’re more comfortable writing someone or talking to them in person. If you learn to look for connections, for opportunities, for patrons, you can make a good to great career for yourself. If you peg your career success on competitions, reviews and recordings, you will drive yourself crazy when you slip or don’t get the recognition you think you deserve.

Just as I’ve urged you to actively create a life for yourself, with your work in music as a subset, so must you fashion a career using your wits, opportunities and enthusiasms. If you are a great artist, you will rise to the top fairly easily and quickly. But, in fact, the world of music primarily comprises craftsman-like performers and composers, who offer us equally valuable, if less startling gifts, as teachers, inventors and players. They compose the world I primarily know and support, mostly with a lot of listening and a little advice.

Most of the successful musicians, and they have each defined what they consider success to be, have found a person or organization who believes in and encourages them—and not just their mothers! They have succeeded, perhaps more modestly than they originally dreamed, but often with a great sense of worth and knowledge of how they enrich this world. 

Please know that there are many potential patrons who don’t want to merely buy the piece of art that hangs on the gallery wall. We want to know you, to support you, to be educated and engaged by you. We are not always obvious, but we are pervasive. Take hope, for in this world of disposable goods, many of us do not create, but are looking to attach ourselves to those who do. Look around, send out the feelers, and together we can work to help build or augment your career. 

And so, my friends, congratulations on this culminating recognition of your innate talents coupled with a lot of hard work. Thank you for considering my modest ideas about the worth of your degree in your career, your life and in society. As activists in each arena, you have important, edifying gifts to offer. I look forward to noting your achievements and to cheering you on from the sidelines. Thank you. 

SPCO Talk on Commissioning

By Linda Hoeschler, 5/24/2005

1.    Learned I enjoyed talking to artists as a child: Columbia Concerts reception

2.    First Commissions:

a.    Furniture-George Nakashima

b.    Marian Fry

3.    First Music Commissions:

a.    Paulus in 1980 (had met him and Larsen in 1977-78)

--Quartet written for instruments our children played

--Minnesota Club premiere

--Length determined by his fee (15 min)

b.    Stephen involved us along the way

--selecting and ordering the text for the work

--Would have us to his home to hear how the work was progressing

--By involving us, he taught us how to be patrons (different from the furniture experience). With all future commissions, music and not, he taught us how to be involved appropriately

c.    Certain themes developed with consistency from this first commission:

--a party, a dedication and often a trip (such as)

d.    Next commission: again a Paulus, this time in Santa Fe in 1986 for our 20th anniversary (“marriage not good enough…”)

e.    Then started to commission annually, up to 5 a commissions a year now (dare not tell my husband) 

4.    Next Developments in our commissioning

a.    MCC: 1988: in Germany for a Paulus work and Jack came up with idea of MCC; McNeil/Lehrer story of 1989 we talked about it, so finally launched it in 1990

b.    1990: also started a program with the Schubert Club, to commission a new work for Minnesota artists making their New York debut

--first work: Aaron Kernis for Jorja Fleezanis (dedicated to my Barnard advisor)

c.    1991: went to the Forum; supposed to be temporary, but turned into a 12-year love affair (although stunted my commissioning in some ways)

--here worked with Aaron and partnership with SPCO

d.    SPCO commissions:

--1996: Five Etudes (Debussy); involved the Hills and dedicated to Joseph Micallef. A signed copy of the score, framed first page and party attending it with Aaron speaking to the guests, made it a great occasion

--1998: August Read Thomas: Passions, for James Sewell Ballet and orchestra (MCC)

--1999: Daniel Godfrey—Symphony in Minor (our initiation, as was the A R Thomas piece)

--2005: Jennifer Higdon and an Oboe Concerto for Kathy Greenbank (with MCC)

5.    What is great about commissioning:

a.    High points of commissioning:

--ability to learn from an artist, and attach self to those who create something from nothing,

--investing in an artist and helping them build their careers (we often become lifelong friends and advisors, from Jack helping them out with legal issues, to my working with them to help strategize their careers)

--reviving the repertoire (plus, nothing to curate)

--dedicating a work to an important event or person

--introducing new people to the concept of working with artists of any ilk

--traveling and having a party (England, Norway, Germany—often with MCC)

b.    Some of the negatives: pretty funny now

--radio story

--where the composer’s delay killed the dedicatee!

--chipmunk sound

c.    some interesting themes of commissions we’ve done:

--for a piano we bought for the Schubert Club

--a march to open the new Wabasha Bridge

--giving a university its own theme song

--thanking teachers and professors (twice in the case of Barnard prof!)

--working with Debra Frasier

--being part of the YoYo Ma Silk Road Project

--King’s College Choir: first composer to write for the Xmas eve service

--anniversaries and weddings and memorial services (Jack’s wasting disease!)

6.    Getting Started

a.    easier to start with a performing/presenting organization such as SPCO

--challenge them to involve you, and to promote the work with other orchestras

b.    Use a not for profit as your fiscal agent. An organization such as the Forum, dedicated to supporting composers, can help you with the payment and get you a tax deduction

--can also make suggestions for composers and solicit materials from composers (don’t think that makes for a commitment)

7.    Conclusion

a.    music, once the apotheosis of man’s spirit, is now in danger of numbing our souls, with the wallpaper surround sound world we live in

b.    we need artists to interpret our world, to pique our minds and lift our spirits 

c.    they need your support to do so

d.    together we can produce a legacy of thoughtful and challenging music. It is music, the most evanescent of the arts, that can give us enduring insights and beauty.

Script for Kita McVay’s Songs 

By Linda Hoeschler, May 6, 2009

Introduction

  1. Some people believe that our personalities are shaped by a combination of nature vs. nurture.

  2. Some are convinced that we merely act out a predestined script.

  3. And still others believe that our basic dispositions and subsequent actions result from the position of the stars and planets from the moment of our birth 

I, however, have a somewhat different view. I believe that each of our lives is a Broadway musical, and that the hits songs we hear throughout our lives both influence us and document our actions.

And so, when I was asked to host a toast and roast of Kita, I looked at her biography. I also asked for your ideas on her gifts and missteps—the latter were all too few, I can assure you. Taking this material, I surveyed the songs Kita would have heard as she grew up, starting in the cradle.

I am sure that you’ll agree with me that Kita, as remarkably talented as she is, was surely influenced by the music around her.

So with the help of our own Leslie Ball, accompanied by George Maurer on the piano, here’s a tribute to Kita, with a few teasing remarks, all in song. You’ll notice my license with some of the lyrics, and I hope you’ll enjoy our medley of songs as much as we have in both selecting them, and tailoring the words.

Birth-1950

We begin the Kita story in 1950, in Minneapolis. The year started as a typical year in the post WWII Cold War, with President Truman authorizing the Atomic Energy Commission to continue work on the hydrogen bomb. The Russians shot down an unarmed US Navy plane over the Baltic in April, and that fall a more paranoid Congress passed the Internal Security Act, requiring Communists and totalitarians to register with the Justice Department and forfeit passports. Into that Cold War atmosphere, North Korea invaded the South in June, and we all know how that turned out.

But there were also happier notes, the 64 year old tax on oleomargarine was repealed in 1950 and Ralph Bunche won the Nobel Peace Prize.

And on October 12th, a child was born to Marcel Dale or “Pete” McVay and his wife, Rosemary Margaret, in Minneapolis, Danita Louise. One suspects that the parents may have been expecting a Daniel. Anyway, Danita’s older sister, Marcie, quickly renamed her Kita, and this unusual, lyrical name stuck.

And what were the songs that Kita would have heard while still in the cradle? When I looked at the song charts, it was like reading Kita’s palm, in terms of forecasting many of her future interests and commitments.

After Leslie sings the first two songs tonight, I’ll mention some other hits of 1950 that also seem to fit Kita.

But now for two popular songs of the time: the first forecasts Kita’s love of horseback riding, a sport she began at age 4 at the family farm in Mora, and her love of herding cattle.

The second is from “South Pacific.” Being an infant, Kita didn’t always hear THESE foreign words quite correctly, but you’ll get the drift.

SONGS: “Don’t Fence Me In” and “Bali Hai” (UTS)

Oh, give me land, lots of land, under Mora’s skies above,
Don't fence me in.
Let me lope with the Swedes through the county that I love, (Ya batcha!)
Don't fence me in.
Let me ride Ebony in the evenin' breezes,
Battle with the cattle ‘neath the cottonwood trees,

Send me off to herd ‘em, but I ask you please,
Don't fence ME in.

UTS may call you
Any time, any day
To New Brighton’s seminary
Come to learn, then to stay. 

UTS will whisper
On the wind of the sea
Interim presidente
For a year, or maybe three.

UTS, UTS, UTS!

Thank you Leslie and George, for those terrific renditions.

Now let me mention two other hit songs of the year of Kita’s birth that also predicted some of her proclivities, but that we don’t have time to hear tonight:

“Lavender Blue, Dilly, Dilly”, a rendering of the old English folksong that became a hit for both Burl Ives and Dinah Shore. The first part of the title foretold Kita’s love of the color purple. In fact, in later years, she could be heard singing, “When the Deep Purple Falls, Over Kita’s kitchen walls.” The second part of the Lavender Blue title, “Dilly, Dilly” predicted Kita’s love of dilled produce, and her Minnesota State Fair ribbons for her dilled beans.

1955-1956: Bible School and Dancing School

Kita’s father and her four siblings attended Hennepin Avenue Methodist church, where Kita later taught Sunday School for 20 years. While the church’s fine Sunday school laid the groundwork for a lifelong affiliation with this remarkable institution, I also think that Kita’s cowgirl model, Dale Evans, played a part. In 1955 Dale had a hit song that she wrote and sang: “The Bible Tells Me So.”

At a minimum, this song may have inspired Kita to do more personal reading and exegesis of the Bible, leading her to eventually enroll in UTS for the master’s degree she earned in 1996.

But Kita was not only about spirituality and religion. She was also a fine athlete, and besides horseback riding, and schoolyard sports at Kenwood Elementary School, she started ballet lessons. It was 1956, the year Grace Kelly married, the Andrea Doria sank, and Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey folded its big tent.

And just as one might have predicted, there was a song to match her newfound passion, a lovely, romantic tune from the 1956 Broadway hit, “My Fair Lady.”

SONG: “I Could Have Danced All Night.”

1956: I Could Have Danced All Night (ties to ballet lessons)

I could have danced all night!
I could have danced all night!
And still have begged for more.
I could have spread my wings
And done a thousand things I've never done before.
I'll never know what made it so exciting;
Why all at once My heart took flight.

I only know when I
Began to dance that I

could have danced, danced, danced all night!

1968-1972: Barnard College, Columbia University, NYC

After Kenwood Elementary, Kita attended and graduated from the Northrup School for Girls, now merged with Blake. When it came to college, she chose one noted for its development of strong, independent women, Barnard College—across the street from, yet a feisty part of Columbia University, in New York City.

Of course, Kita didn’t need to look far for female role models. Her mother, Rosemary Margaret Moskalik was a corporate lawyer at Cargill. And when Rosemary and Pete McVay married, they moved into Rosemary’s house near Lake of the Isles.

Kita came to Barnard in 1968, a tumultuous year, both for that campus and for this country: the Tet offensive, assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, SDS occupation of Columbia buildings, the Democratic national convention in Chicago, and the election of Richard Nixon over two giants from Kita’s home state: Humphrey and McCarthy.

About the only light news was the marriage of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy to Aristotle Onassis, and popular entertainment such as “Hair” and “The Graduate.” “Hello Darkness, my old friend” seemed a suitable mantra for this Age of Aquarius.

At Barnard, Kita continued to perform in its fine dance program, and studied hard. She graduated with a history major, Magna cum Laude and Phi Beta Kappa. Are you surprised?

To mark her years in New York, we now offer this lilting popular tune, which premiered slightly after Kita left the Big Apple.

SONG: “New York, New York” 

1968: New York, New York (Barnard)

Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today
I want to be a part of it—New York, New York
In silk ballet shoes, I’ll do grand jetes

Through Barnard’s heart and sole, in old New York

I want a big bite of the Apple that’s NYC
Where I can tap dance my way-- through history

These little town blues, are melting away
I'm gonna make a grand new start of it - in old New York
If I can make it there, among the Barnard bears
I’ve got it made - New York, New York.

1972: Return to the Minneaple

After her 1972 graduation, the year of the Munich Olympics, the Watergate scandal, Nixon’s visit to China, and shooting of George Wallace, Kita returned to what might have appeared to New Yorkers as a quieter life in Minnesota. Not for Kita, of course. She began to work at Cargill in the management training program, and soon went to Toledo. During her 15 year career at Cargill she was its first female grain trader and also a merchandising manager.

In 1973 Kita married and now has two accomplished daughters, Elizabeth 28 and Marianna 22.

Besides her impressive professional career, including her work on the executive committee at MinnWest banks, Kita stayed involved with the community. She has served on the boards of Hamline University, Minnesota Dance Theater, the local Barnard chapter, Project for Pride in Living, Greater Minneapolis Council of Churches, and Hennepin Avenue Methodist. I’m sure there were many more commitments, but believe me, Kita leaves no paper trail! (No songs on banking: Pennies from Heaven, the Party’s Over)

And then there is her ongoing commitment to United, a love affair we’ve had with her that seems to have no end. First as student and MA graduate, board member and chair, chair of many committees, interim president, and finally, the well earned title of President.

Just as I’ve learned that Kita publicly shares little information about herself, I’ve also learned that she seems not to have any foibles. When Gretchen emailed the staff, board and faculty for roast ideas, the worse thing anyone could say was that Kita dresses so beautifully, that the rest of us feel like schlumps around her!

And so, Kita, here’s your rather weak roast, in song.

SONG: You’re Just Too Marvelous

You’re just too glamorous, too glamorous for words
Liked glorious, sensational
You’re hardly congregational

It's all too wonderful, I'll never find the words
That say enough, tell enough, I mean they just aren't swell enough.

With your great style, which is so “very, very”
You set the bar for every seminary.
And so we offer you, this tribute you’ve just heard,
To tell you that you're glamorous, too glamorous for words. (repeat last stanza)

FINALE

As a final tribute to Kita, I offer a summary of our toasts to a few of her many superlatives, with new words to a Cole Porter standard. Each of you will get a copy, a souvenir of tonight’s event.

SONG: “You’re the Top”

At words poetic, I'm so pathetic
That I always have found it best,

Instead of getting them off my chest,

To let 'em rest unexpressed,
I hate parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
So here’s our dossier

On Kita Mc Vay
To tell you how great
we know you are.

You’re the top!
You’re the Bigelow Chapel
You’re the top!
You’re the Minneapple.
You’re a melody
From a hymnody by Bach.
You’re Martin Luther
The Wesley two-for
You’re our John Knox!

You’ve got wings
Not unlike Moroni
With added bling
On your suits Armani
The Enlightened sage
Of an OT page, Job’s lament
You’re Eden’s garden
Teilhard de Chardin
The Council of Trent!

You’re the top!
You’re a convert’s zeal
You’re the Top!
Billy Graham’s appeal
Mary Baker Eddy’s favorite reading room,
You’re a Luth-rin reunion
You’re the saints communion
You’re our Hans Kung!

You’re a treat
From Sharon Ryan
A bow tie neat
On Ron Vantine
Both Heydinger
And Heiddeger you stun!
You’re Vatican Two
A grant from CUE
You’re Gene Robinson!

You’re the champ
Of lib-ral theology
Let Cruise vamp
For his Scientology
Our fearless leader
Our Reinhold Niebuhr, a toast
To Danita, our own Kita, you’re the most!

Skrowaczewski Tribute

By Linda Lovas Hoeschler, December 12, 2011

1.     Jack and I moved here in mid-December 1968. Within a few weeks we attended our first Minnesota Orchestra concert. We knew then that we had moved not to musical flyover land, but to an important music center, and more particularly, an important new music center in the world.

2.     Stanislaw Skrowaczewski had come to Minnesota, clearly defining himself as both a composer and conductor of our time. He came as a total musician, not a specialist—that in itself unusual in this century. Stan poked the comfortable fabric of our repertoire which was generally a polite mirror of 19th century events and values, with that occasional peek at some early 20th century works.

3.     He wanted to ensure that we learned about and became familiar with the music of our age.

4.     For Stan knew better than us, first hand, many of the horrors and tectonic shifts of the 20th century. These changes were reflected in our music and we were living in a new musical era. Stan helped us, little by little, to get to know our music.

5.     As Mary Ann Feldman says, he exemplified couragio—courage. He never courted popularity, but did what he believed was right. He was like all the great leaders I’ve known, such as Ken and Judy Dayton, doing the right, not the easy, thing.

6.     Stan introduced us to 250 new and old works that he thought we should hear. Some of these were world and American premieres of his Polish colleagues, Penderecki, Lutaslowski, and Panufnik. Oh how I loved telling my NY friends that I had already heard a work they were recommending! Throughout this process, Stan made us all, in his persistent, gracious way, more knowledgeable, more sophisticated. We became, artistically, people of our time.

7.     Occasionally during his tenure we got to hear some of his works as a composer, such as the great English Horn Concerto for Tom Stacy.

8.     While Stan was on the podium at the Orchestra, his example infected all the music organizations in town. I believe that Stan’s innovative and stunning programs made Dennis Russell Davies appointment at SPCO possible, even expected. And what grand times those were here, as we would ricochet back and forth between one exciting premier and another. And because Stan was so insistent that we become people of our age, he compelled us to build a new hall worthy of all great music.

9.     Stan’s championing of the current, the new, fueled also by a strong Composers Forum in town (if I do say so myself!), promoted a tradition of new works throughout the Twin Cities music groups—a tradition that is embedded and has not abated.

10.  Fortunately, after he retired full time from the Orchestra, Stan chose to stay here. Local composers were the beneficiaries of his counsel and support, and music organizations commissioned and/or premiered many of his new works—works which are always well crafted, intelligent, provocative, complex, intense, exciting and beautiful. And Stan felt he had to write, not just because he had things to say, but because he sees art as a powerful antidote to the chaos and violence of his times, our times. (2003 symphony)

11.  In all this achievement, this prodigy who lived up to his promise, Stan remains modest and straightforward, always hoping to improve on what he has already done, looking forward to the next concert, the next new work where he can do a bit better. He deflects praise and turns the conversation to the would-be questioner.

12.  Stan Skrowaczewski is one of the major reasons that this is a great arts community, bursting with vitality, expecting and welcoming the new. We are all so fortunate that we got not only a composer and conductor, but a man of couragio. Stan remains a leader in all ways, a pre-digital age humanist who has never adjusted his beliefs or actions to the poll numbers.

13.  And as we all know, such people are too scarce, yet never more necessary today.

Tribute to David Slawson

NAJGA Conference, Chicago IL

By Linda Hoeschler, October 16, 2014

 

1.     Becoming involved with David Slawson is a lot like getting married:

a-we had no idea what we were getting into

b-it was a lot more work than we realized

c-in fact, we wouldn’t have done it if we had known what we were getting into

d-but in the end, we are very glad we did it!

2.     For 41 years we have lived in the city of St. Paul in a modern home designed by Minnesota’s best known architect, Ralph Rapson—fortunately sited on 1 ½ rustic acres abutting a park

3.     In an attempt to soften our home’s light and lines, we introduced shoji screens and many other Japanese elements to the interior, beginning in the mid-‘70’s. My view is that if Frank Lloyd Wright’s prime inspiration for modern architecture was Japanese buildings, we should take our home back to its roots, so to speak.

4.     While we were successful with the house interiors, we were less successful with our novice attempts to design a small Japanese garden. Guests liked it, but we knew it was all wrong.

5.     Among the books we read to guide us was David Slawson’s “Secret Teachings.” Then, in 1994, we were accidental guests with David in Colorado where he was designing a garden for the Aspen Institute. When we saw the scrubby meadow and his dramatic plan for it, we knew we had our man!

6.     David visited our home in 1995 en route Carleton College to tend its garden which he had designed. We asked David for a hillside design of deciduous and evergreen bushes spilling down the hill. But David saw a dry lake bordered by bold boulders. We thought it a great design—we just didn’t realize how big it was!

7.     In May 1996 David arrived with 37 tons of boulders, not counting the smaller rocks and beach stones. (We told David we wanted to be able to see the forms under several feet of snow!)  

8.     David resculpted our side yard into a Northshore seascape with peninsulas—Japanese inspired but not exactly like anything we had seen in Japan.

That is David’s genius. He uses the Japanese aesthetic principles to interpret a beloved place, using local materials and eschewing any derivative elements such as crimson bridges, tori gates and the like. David frees the Japanese idiom from its home place in Japan, and applies its essence in this country.

By interpreting the North Shore of Lake Superior through a Japanese garden lens, in our case, he created a whole new and exciting landscape that defies clear definition. You smell the green tea, but you can’t identify from where the scent emanates. If a Japanese garden is an impression of a beloved place, ours is a more abstract version. Both are great art.

9.     David is an artist who paints with rocks. That is an important principle to understand and embrace. We love to commission artists: furniture, art, dance and primarily music. If we don’t like a piece we’ve commissioned we can put it in the closet, give it away or not listen to it. You can’t do that with rocks—so you better know and trust your designer!

10.  We love David and his rocks. But having him do the first garden, was like painting only one room. The rest of your rooms look sad and pathetic in comparison. So working with David became a necessary addiction: every year through 2009 David added a garden or fine tuned an existing one.

2009 was the last year that David painted our yards with stones: he had my husband build a tripod and ‘walk’ two basalt basins into a new courtyard garden. I should also add that when Sylvia Banks, David’s stellar companion, began to join David on his trips, she not only added her fine photography and sharp eye, but brought a level of peace to us all.

11.  In 2010 David handed off our garden’s maintenance and design to the great man from Texas, John Powell. John is respectful of David’s vision, but with each visit John adds details, freshness and definition. We are blessed to have John in our lives and in our home.

12.  Because of David and now John, we live in a floating world—not the twilight world of the ladies of the night (no one would take my husband for a lady!)—but in a house surrounded by beautiful ever changing gardens. Everywhere we look, both high and low, everywhere we walk, we have magnificent views, no matter the season nor the light. We’ve been so blessed.

13.  Of the hundreds of artistic projects I’ve worked on, this ongoing garden project has been the most complex, the most challenging. But like my marriage of 48 years, I would still do it all over again.

14.  Jack and I welcome each of you to come join us in our North Shore gardens—anytime. We will properly view the gardens from inside our home, then stroll along its dry streams, lake and hills, pausing to sit at an overlook, perch on a moon viewing stone, rest inside the machiai.

Bravo, David, and thank you.

Our Last Times with Thelma

By Jack Hoeschler, August 19, 2015

 

Thelma Hunter’s unexpected but peaceful death yesterday (Tuesday, August 18) causes me to reflect fondly on our last two experiences with her.  The first was a few weeks ago when we all attended the Bang on the Can Marathon at Mass MoCA in the Berkshire Mountains in Massachusetts.  The occasion was the August 1 premiere of an orchestral piece by Jeffrey Brooks, which Thelma had commissioned through her Thelma Hunter Fund at the American Composers Forum.

Mass MoCA is a big museum of contemporary arts located in a repurposed 19th century textile factory in North Adams, Massachusetts near Tanglewood, the Williamstown Theater, and the Clark Museum.  Each year, New York City’s best known contemporary music producers (two of whom are Pulitzer Prize winners), Julia Wolfe, David Lang and Michael Gordon, bring their Bang on the Can Festival to Mass MoCA for three weeks of serious contemporary music – culminating in a 6 hour session of their best stuff – the Marathon.

Thelma was the toast of this year’s Marathon as a 90 year old supporter of contemporary music – specifically Minneapolis-based Jeff Brooks’ Capriccio on the Departure of a Beloved Brother, the highlight of the Marathon.

Frankly, people could not believe Thelma was 90 years old, but were also equally surprised that she would be such a supporter of the very newest compositions.  Thelma won Minnesota another set of accolades in the process.

For herself, Thelma was amazed and delighted by the scale and variety of the artworks displayed in the Mass MoCA galleries.  She was accompanied by Bonnie Marshall from the American Composers Forum who convinced Thelma to enjoy the museum tour from a wheelchair, something she found quite pleasant (and subsequently urged her friend, Hella Mears, to model on an upcoming trip to Germany).

Thelma confessed that she did not find all of the pieces on the concert bill to her taste, but she nevertheless had a wonderful time at the champagne party following the Marathon. Composers, performers and attendees swarmed around her. Thelma also told me there that her financial advisor warned her she was ‘underwater’ on her personal spending, particularly her travel. I dismissed that with a laugh and urged her to ‘go out’ spending even more in her inimitable style.

Thelma’s vitality and enthusiasm impressed and energized everyone, including Boston friends who also joined us for the new experience.

Our last meeting with Thelma was this past Monday, August 17, the evening before she died.  We had a Minnesota Commissioning Club meeting at our home. Before the meeting, and in the drizzle, Thelma toured and delighted in our Japanese garden. She sat for a long time in our machiai to enjoy and absorb the different greens and the sound of falling water, commenting on its beauty and peace.  Although a little unsure of her steps on the garden stones, she was clearly enjoying the whole experience. 

During the meeting Thelma spoke about her Mass MoCA adventure and her ideas for future commissions. Upon adjournment we had a birthday cake to celebrate the upcoming birthdays of Thelma (91) and David Ranheim (73).  Thelma joined sweetly in the multi-part singing before blowing out the candles.

I was probably the last person to speak with Thelma as I helped her to her car in the dark. I complimented her on the monogram on the door of her Benz sports car. (I knew she had purchased it after Sam’s death because she was tired of driving the automobiles left to Sam by deceased patients.) Thelma told me that her friend, Elinor Bell, had such a monogram on her car which Thelma had always liked. She said the dealer had resisted the idea until he saw how well it turned out. Thelma seemed pleased about that little bit of self-indulgence.

We are comforted that Thelma’s last night was the occasion for a warm party in her honor, since she had so wonderfully and so often entertained the rest of us at her home and at her concerts. We will all especially miss her Christmas party, a singular gathering with good food, an inventive music/poetry program, ending always with enthusiastic group caroling. 

Jack’s Tribute to Thelma Hunter

A Tribute to Stan Skrowaczewski

By Linda Lovas Hoeschler, March 28, 2017

For many years, Stan Skrowaczewski and I had a courtly, old-world relationship. Only over the past dozen years did it slowly bloom into a warm friendship—a treasured gift to me and my husband, Jack. I felt valued, trusted and even needed—what more could one hope for as a friend?!

Soon after Jack and I moved here in December 1968, we attended a concert by the newly-renamed Minnesota Orchestra. In a city that boasted many steak houses and few ethnic restaurants, we were starved for the new and different.

Fortunately, Stan offered a menu that featured the newly-created music that we had thrived on in New York and Chicago. We became Stan’s groupies as he presented thoughtful, thrilling US premieres of many composers, especially the East European moderns such as Penderecki, Lutoslawski and Panufnik. Moreover, we were moved by Stan’s own intense, complex creations. Our first exposure was his fabulous English horn concerto for Tom Stacy.

Stan’s musical offerings, augmented by new works presented by Philip Brunelle, and soon thereafter, Dennis Russell Davies, cemented our confidence that we had chosen the right place as our new and now permanent home.

Over the years we attended Stan’s occasional orchestral and chamber music compositional premieres, some written for mutual friends. We met him but certainly couldn’t count him as more than a passing acquaintance.

I only gradually got to know Stan when I took a job at the American Composers Forum in 1991. By that time Jack and I had been commissioning music for a decade and had initiated the Minnesota Commissioning Club with 5 other couples which invested in composers and ideas for new musical work.

Stan would periodically call me at the Composers Forum to inquire about his eligibility for a copying or commissioning program.  I appreciated his fine European manners and easily recognized my caller, the only one who started, “Good day, Mrs. Hershler.” I, in turn, always called him, “Maestro.” 

I would explain that the Forum programs were for the support of emerging to mid-career composers, and that he most likely didn’t qualify. The Maestro’s professionalism, kindness and sincere commitment to writing new works were noteworthy, even stunning. Moreover, he was not too proud to ask for a grant.

Stan was likewise invested in helping many of our young local composers. He counseled those who asked, and attended reading sessions in what became the Forum’s partnership with MnOrch, the Composers’ Institute. Stan offered honest, not hurtful appraisals—although what he didn’t say was often a more powerful critique. Stan looked for the message and the craftsmanship in these new works—hallmarks of his own writing.

During those Forum years we occasionally socialized at our homes, but particularly memorable were our lunches after Stan’s annual matinee performance with the Minnesota Orchestra. I might elicit a story about his youth or his study under Boulanger, but Stan was not a man of the past.

I always sensed Stan’s loss, not just with the war, but with the oppression under which he labored during the Russian dominance of Poland. He once told me “You can’t imagine how terrible it was under the Soviets,” but he clearly did not wish to elucidate. He didn’t anguish over the past, but continued to focus ahead.

I marveled at Stan’s untiring work ethic and his drive, almost compulsion, to craft new works, right up until his recent strokes. He was increasingly distressed by the darkness of our contemporary world, particularly after 9/11, and he wanted to capture this in music. Distressed is not too strong a term. Still, he didn’t belabor his view of our civilization’s obvious fault lines, because, I think, he was considerate of others’ feelings. His misery did not want company.

An opportunity to support Stan’s writing came with his composing a new orchestral piece which would premiere on his 80th birthday, at Orchestra Hall, October 2003. The Orchestra approached the Minnesota Commissioning Club for some funding, which we enthusiastically endorsed. Besides, two of our Club members, Fred Sewell and Thelma Hunter, had previously commissioned the Maestro to write a wonderful quartet for them and two of their musical children—and that piece had had a good life.

In the late summer of 2003 the Maestro called me and asked, ever so politely, if he might dedicate his new work, Symphony [2003] to the recently departed, Kenneth Dayton, Stan’s good friend and my former boss. Ken provided a stellar example at Dayton Hudson to always do the right thing, not the expedient. Ken and Stan were similar in their sterling ethics and behavior and, of course, we agreed to the dedication.

My friendship with Stan began to flourish in 2005 after Jack and I returned from Sweden, having experienced a high impact collision, undergoing surgery and 6 weeks of medical care. Stan not only called us when we returned home, he also continued to call every 3 or 4 months to inquire about our progress. About this time, I finally persuaded him to call me Linda and I, in turn, dropped the Maestro for Stan.

 Perhaps because of our physical vulnerability, Stan’s unexpected but welcome concern touched both of us deeply. But as we healed and grew strong, his friendship didn’t flag and we began to have more personal, meaningful conversations about our activities and values. I treasured his deep concern and consistent communication.

Stan anguished as Krystyna, his beautiful wife, got sicker, but he never sought pity. Stan was a serious man and his biggest passions seemed to be his family and the writing of his next musical work. He still had many things he needed to say. Conducting around the world was expressed as an expected, but not particularly impressive job. It was what he did, in the same vein as, perhaps, I can cook a good meal.

I did a small favor for Stan and Krystyna a couple of years before her death. They had been raised Catholic and wished to be buried by a priest. I agreed to help and thought I knew the right person for them.

Father Kevin McDonough, our parish priest, readily joined Stan and me for lunch. After pleasantries and Kevin’s inquiry into the Maestro’s travel and conducting, Stan started a monologue whose trajectory was obvious: he wanted to explain the Skrowaczewskis’ lack of church attendance.  Stan had barely begun his explanation when Kevin kindly put his big hand over Stan’s, silencing him.

“Maestro,” Kevin interrupted, “Some people live their religion by going to daily Mass, saying the rosary and doing Novenas. Others, like you, live your lives devoted to making this a more beautiful world.”

[Father] McDonough, Stan and Krystyna met on subsequent occasions for conversation, comfort, blessings, and yes, funeral planning. I took it as an honor that I could be part of this couple’s countdown in life, as I told Stan in our final one-way conversation at the hospital after his second major stroke.

Jack and I and Kevin McDonough attended Stan’s final conducting performance last October in Orchestra Hall. Stan showed magnificent insight and vigor leading the Bruckner 8th, performed without intermission. He was exhausted when we saw him backstage, yet still gracious as usual, concerned about our enjoyment and comfort. We suspected this was the last time we’d see him conduct, although we had recently talked about going to Japan with him in 2017 for his spring concert tour.

Father McDonough’s assessment that Stan devoted his life to making this a more beautiful world often resounds and rebounds in my mind.

Thank you, Maestro, for devoting your life to making our lives richer, and for making ours a more beautiful community, and this, a more beautiful world.

Tribute to Mary Willis Pomeroy

By Linda Lovas Hoeschler, February 10, 2018

 

Have you ever lost a key piece of writing on a plane? Well, I left my heartfelt, flowing tribute to Mary on the plane from MSP. Although I’ve tried to re-create a semblance of my original talk, I can assure you that you are all in luck—this version is shorter, old age memory being what it is.

I am honored to offer tribute to Mary Pomeroy this evening as we celebrate the 50 plus years of the Delegation for Friendship Among Women; 50 years only possible because Mary was the driving force behind   so many of the Delegation’s trips, its vision and its continued existence. Mary is truly the creator, the mother of the Delegation, and we, as its loyal and enthusiastic participants and beneficiaries, toast Mary as the Mother of Us All. Thank you, Mary. And thank you Mary, Jill, George and the many others who worked to produce this new book, this magnificent record of some of Mary’s achievements working on behalf of the Delegation and as a model world citizen.

It is difficult to even think of the Delegation without Mary Pomeroy. It is as if she and the Delegation exchanged DNA early on so that they became one, aligned in spirit and drive. If the Delegation were an organism, Mary was its Delphic Oracle. She knew instinctively where the Delegation should go next, where in the developing world some thoughtful American women could listen, suggest, learn and perhaps inspire fledging women leaders, leaders often unacknowledged, unsupported and underfinanced.

Mary was a natural creator for the Delegation, for she had already done a great job creating herself. As a young child, she and her sister Betty, would usually go to the local library while they waited for their mother to pick them up after school. Instead of complaining that mom was undependable and forgetful, Mary saw the library as her chance to read as many books as she could—which she did. As an adult, she has always maintained a large and impressive library of books about world affairs and history—an attractive magnet for my husband, whom I call Mary’s next husband!

After raising her three children in Minnesota, Mary began to work for Mercury Travel and was involved in Republican politics. She was asked by some of her politically-involved friends to help the fledgling Delegation with its first trip planning. Mary became such a driving force, that she was asked to sign the Delegation’s Articles of Incorporation a couple of years later.

Although we had lived in Minnesota since 1968, we only heard about Mary from others interested in world travel “Surely you know Mary”.  But we didn’t, until we heard again of Mary in Egypt in 1987—our archaeologist guide and others commenting, when they heard we lived in St Paul: “but of course you know Mary Pomeroy.” I sheepishly said no each time. A year later we were asked to host a dinner in our home for Jehan Sadat and were told that Mrs. Sadat had one requirement: that Mary Pomeroy be included as her guest of honor. Then I learned that Mary was serving as parliamentarian for an international women’s conference. I was truly out of it, not knowing this renowned local light!

Fortunately, this breach was soon corrected through a mutual Egyptian friend, and I was invited to go with the Delegation to Yemen, Oman and Morocco for 3 weeks in March 1990. Since then, I have been fortunate to have been on every Delegation trip but one. 

Although the Delegation trips were wonderful on one level because of the opportunity to visit countries not on the beaten path (how many times have I been asked, “You’re going where? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”), these trips were phenomenal and a great privilege because of Mary Pomeroy. Why? What was Mary’s strategy, her winning edge?

1.     Mary had, as I mentioned before, a great nose for the countries where interesting things were happening, particularly identifying where female leadership needed a hand and encouragement. She was always right.

2.     Mary also always went, on her own nickel, to visit the countries well before a Delegation trip. She identified the women really doing great things. (By the way, the male-dominated governments usually wanted us to meet only government officials, who were often, not surprisingly, their relatives). Mary, a human bloodhound, would also sniff out the burgeoning NGO heads who were doing important things, particularly in social services, who could use an exchange of ideas and our imprimatur.

Mary gained respect for the Delegation on these pre-trips by her very presence and authority, a huge help to our group. But Mary also made true friends with many of the foreign women leaders, friendships that endured decades.

3.     Mary also insisted that we Delegates follow-up on our meetings, and she set the best example for us all. On my first trip with the group to Oman, we learned about extensive congenital deafness, skeletal malformation etc due to long-standing inbreeding, particularly in rural areas. On our return home, next thing I knew Mary had me working with her and Gillette Children’s Hospital in St Paul to send a container of perfectly good but out of date rehab equipment to Muscat, Oman.

4.     Follow-up, but keep looking ahead, seemed to be Mary’s mantra, always keeping her eye on the next ascending ball where she thought the Delegation should go.

I have learned a few other valuable lessons from Mary:

1.     Always dress up for meeting these women leaders, no matter how small their organization, no matter how poor or poorly dressed they are. Dressing professionally shows respect for them and their work.

2.     Don’t always listen to Mary ‘s advice, particularly on appropriate dress for a country. On my first trip to the Middle East Mary advised us to dress conservatively and in dark clothes. And wear no expensive jewelry. So while I dressed like a nun looking for a convent, Mary, ever glamorous, wore colorful and beautiful clothing, and sported a diamond as big as the Ritz.

3.     Pack clothes in plastic and Martinizing bags to keep them looking great and wrinkle free.

4.     And finally, view the poor and ‘fly-over’ countries, particularly those with troubled or even no US relations, as offering rich opportunities to learn, to help, and, certainly, to make friends. Ignore men for the most part.

Mary, obviously has never had the time or inclination to rest, either on her divan or her laurels. This remarkable icon is never self-congratulatory. By word and by example she has helped us Delegates to keep looking ahead to the next adventure, the next opportunity.

So now may I propose that we all stand and toast Mary Willis Pomeroy, the Mother of us All!