When you reflect back on one’s starting point in their career, the memories tend to be exaggerated, yet the realization of my passion for music came from an experience of disappointment and turned into sheer elation. I was 10 years old auditioning for the chorus in school and being very shy. My singing of the “Star Spangled Banner” came out as a cross between laughing hyenas and crying, howling dogs. Obviously, the chorus teacher didn’t know what to think—so he rejected me. Explaining this failure to my mom, she just told me to try and play a clarinet like Benny Goodman. With a letter from mom, I went to the music teacher and he gleefully handed me a clarinet (they must have needed clarinetists that year). After blowing some notes for everyone to hear in our kitchen and probably sounding awful, I experienced a feeling of utter joy. A few months later, the passion and love for the clarinet propelled me into the universal world of music. I never, ever wanted to stop.

Mr. Leon Russianoff was an eccentric, creative, honest, engaging and mysterious character that had absolutely no set agenda on how to “teach” students. He understood that everyone was an individual with various anatomical and psychological variations. These differences were to be celebrated and elaborated on so one could reach their full potential on the clarinet.

In order to build the confidence needed to perform, he would dance around the studio to demonstrate the rhythmic pulse, take away the music you practiced for the whole week and give you brand new music to sight-read. You never knew what new and innovative theories of clarinet teaching he would pull out of his head to enable one to improve. I studied with Mr. Russianoff for six years and probably the most important lesson I took away was his fairness and integrity. Out of 70 students he taught weekly, I was one of only three female students. Equity and social justice were words he would never utter, but I now realize this was the lesson most valued. 

Studying to be a musician is a life-long endeavor. Acquiring the necessary technical and musical skills are only part of the essential ingredients needed to be a very good/great musician.

When I auditioned for the Blossom Music Festival with the Cleveland Orchestra, the seeds of a professional musician were planted. Musicians such as: John Mack, oboist with the orchestra, was determined to make me play with style and perfect my rhythm; Murray Sharpe, flutist, told inspirational stories that helped me with the internal, emotional playing, and Frank Cohen, clarinetist, insisted that I play out and never hide behind the clarinet. These musicians shaped my playing and inspired me. Yet, it was my mother lying in a hospital bed, sick with cancer, who made me realize dreams are made to be sought after and lived. You take the plunge, never let fear rule you and focus on practicing your skills.

There is something undeniably human about the production of sound emanating from a clarinet. The warmth of the timbre just captivated me every time I played and performed on the instrument. Not all performances have been “captivating,” but I had a sense that I was communicating my own voice through the instrument and it was so satisfying.

I realized early on about the amount of skill it would take to be able to “speak” through the clarinet. The more advanced you became, the more intimate the communication. What I treasured most were those intimate thoughts, only known by me, that were emotionally affecting the diverse audiences. Every nuance, every practical skill learned led you closer to the professional performances practiced by great musicians.

There is something intrinsic about being a creative individual. I find it difficult to “turn off” the ever-flowing ideas that keep occupying and filling up my head. My husband and my two wonderful children keep inspiring me to keep the life I lead going as I delve deeper into the creativity that is life.

Some of the inspiration for creativity comes from news stories, history (past and present), everyday living, family members who have passed on, people who comment about obscure things and just experiencing new places in the world where we have performed. Many of these ideas are expressed in my sculpture where I agonize about how to start carving these beautiful pieces of wood.

I usually equate grant writing to a dentist pulling out one of your teeth! It is very difficult to determine what exactly you want to achieve with the subject of your grant. The technical writing involved and the final creative idea, which captures the mind-set of the organization, is very difficult to determine.

Luckily, with influence and guidance from my husband’s passion for the Cherokee Native American Flute, I was able to come up with the idea of going to the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee to watch a brilliant artist make a magnificent flute from a large piece of barn wood. The second grant enabled me to introduce the history, culture and sound of the flute to audiences in the U.S. and Europe. A short lecture was done after our performances and questions were handed out to the audience. This collected data is still being analyzed.

This past year’s grant was extraordinary. I wanted to find out if learning/hearing the Cherokee language could possibly improve my playing on the Native flute. Mr. Edwin George, a full-blooded Cherokee Native, trusted me enough to explain the many cultural traditions associated with tribal life. All of this research presents me with a gift of cultural knowledge and continues to influence my performances.

When teaching, my hope is to ignite the desire for continued learning, for the student to go deeper into the subject and for my former students to come back and say “thank you” for that passion towards music.

Some of the cons of teaching are the inequity of the educational system throughout the country, especially in the arts. Also, realizing that you can’t solve all the problems or protect the students from negative influences.

The pros of teaching are many, but what is more important than teaching or being a teacher? You can mold students into a fine musician or just present them with the beauty that is music.

Giving birth to my two children. Music and art are a reflection of life, but giving birth to life feeds the art.

I get so tired defending why the creative fine arts should be supported by the whole society, not thrown to the whims of very financially well-off individuals. Case after case, science has informed us that the arts are important for the health of the brain, psychological improvements, social adjustments, cultural understanding, the creation of new neural pathways, etc.

As the New York Times stated in one of their many articles on the brain, “playing written music is the most powerful way to integrate the left and right side of your brain.” With all of this information out there to read and digest, why do they keep slashing arts programs in schools, lowering the number of musicians in orchestras, and why are board members continually not understanding the needs of musicians/artists in major organizations?

The arts are the antidote for the abnormal attachment to technological gadgets. Technology enables a collaborative community to effectively use these tools to garner research, communication and learning. The arts are one of the few pathways for humans to get closer to the “thoughts” of the creator or spirits.

I look forward to waking up and doing what I do all the time—play music, teach music, sculpt, create, think, love, speak with my children and friends, discussions with my husband, sharing conceptual insights with my colleagues and, most important, to understand that sometimes you have no control over what comes next.