Proof

How important was music education to your life? Now that school budgets are being slashed and states are mandating that test score excellence be pinned to academics only, how can we explain why the arts should continue to play a major role in our schools?

I got a glimpse of the profound and lasting importance of learning music in public schools a few weeks ago.

My personal love of music began early. I was fortunate to attend a high school in Cleveland Heights, Ohio where a high level of music performance in bands, orchestra and choirs was valued and nurtured.

Many of my high school buddies went on to receive degrees and thriving careers in music. Composers served residences in my high school (called simply “Heights”), we played basic repertoire symphonic music and the top groups went on concert tours during spring break.

Heights always had a tradition of great teacher/conductors. Ralph Rush and Mark Hindsley both left Heights to become important names at the University of Illinois and UCLA.

One such teacher was John F. Farinacci. This larger than life character was the band and orchestra head between 1949-62. Although his students are now in their 60’s 70’s and even 80’s and Mr. F passed away five years ago, the alumni who played under him embarked on a mission to honor him and acknowledge his legacy with a unique reunion event.

During the 11/11/11 weekend the Band and Orchestra reunion (two years of planning) honoring Farinacci took place. The weekend was surprising, emotional and heartfelt.

I have attended a couple of high school reunions in the past but found them all dull and meaningless. The saving grace to those events was that the band and orchestra folks usually found each other, searched out a quiet table and talked about how important the Heights music program was to all of us.

This reunion was decidedly different. At the opening gala dinner, Farinacci’s grey- haired and retired students paid tribute to him in glowing verbiage. Now lawyers, professors, doctors, teachers, these men and women told moving stories about how playing violin or clarinet or trombone under Farinacci changed their lives forever.

Mr. F was not an easy guy – he was highly disciplined, had a fiery temper and was not good at hiding his anger. He expected his students to work hard and to not accept anything less than excellence. He would often bellow his concocted and fake Italian epithet “tabbo sessenam beeza”. Yes, we were all scared to death of him and loved him at the same time. And we had no idea what that crazy sentence meant.

This was not a typical high school reunion where small talk is exchanged over drinks. The 200 people who attended this gathering were desperate to share their life-long love of music with their friends of 50 years ago.

The alums regaled us with funny and nostalgic stories, but also poignant remembrances about how this tough Italian taught them how to work hard, roll with the punches and how to take the bitter pill if you deserved it. But everyone spoke about how their lifelong love of music was due to Farinacci.

Can you imagine people getting together fifty years later to honor a math teacher?

One speaker was a professional violist who recently retired after a career with the Toronto Symphony. He described when the feared conductor asked him to stop over to his house one Saturday morning. Mr. F. had collected a pile of LPs for the young musician to listen to – the Mozart Symphonia Concertante for Viola and Violin and many others. The 66-year old violist remembers that listening to those recordings was a revelation. “I never knew the viola could sound like that,” he said. Somehow, Farinacci identified some real talent in this kid.

Also in attendance was a bassoonist who played in the Cleveland and San Francisco orchestras, a conductor with the Buffalo Philharmonic, and an attorney who is on the Executive Board of the Cleveland Orchestra.

Mr. F’s family was well represented – his 92-year-old wife Alice was there as well as four of his five children.

Maybe the most moving element of the weekend was the joint concert that took place with the idealistic old codgers and the current Heights band and orchestra students.

At the time we attended Heights, the school was mainly Jewish and Italian. Today Heights is in a changing neighborhood with a 75% minority student population. We all heard horror stories about the current Heights High School: metal detectors, violence, low performance levels.

I am thrilled to report that we saw none of that on our brief visits to the old high school.

Sitting with the current high school students during our music making was one of the high points of the weekend. These kids were not cynical and tied to their iphones, but were enthusiastic about the music and - miraculously – excited about playing with us old geezers. The horn player next to me was a terrific player and full of laughs to boot.

Kids and oldsters got to know each other playing in the same depression-era auditorium that we grew up in. There is a Hebrew expression – L’dor Vador, “generation to generation”. This rehearsal and concert was clearly a l’dor vador experience

Many of the alums had not touched their horns for the past 50 years or so, and did so on this weekend with great reluctance and fear. On that Saturday afternoon we rehearsed the combined alum/student orchestra (Beethoven’s Egmont was the music of choice) and band. One of the band’s selections was Buglers’ Holiday and the soloists were the original trumpet trio that played together in 1957.

But soon, some unexpected drama occurred. During the band rehearsal in the afternoon, chills went through the band when it became apparent that the conductor from our alumni group was having difficulty conducting the Host 2nd Suite – basic repertoire in the band world. The band stumbled miserably through the music that is littered with difficult meter and tempo changes. The old pride of performance came through as the band recognized that we may embarrass ourselves during the concert that night, something we dreaded.

Suddenly, after the rehearsal I was asked to take over the baton. Even though I would not get time to rehearse the group, I accepted the task with trepidation. Later that afternoon, I pored over the score to make sure that I gave the group SOME element of correct direction.

One piece of music that the alums demanded we play was the Sousa favorite, Stars and Stripes Forever. In our day there was a beloved performance ritual that occurred with the playing of Stars and Stripes. The piccolos stood up and marched to the front to play their solo and for the final grandioso the trumpets and trombones marched to the front to join the pics while a huge American flag was dropped from the ceiling at the rear of the stage. Everyone loved this corny spectacle and waited for it to be played at the conclusion of every concert.

When planning for this concert, our organizer (Dick Rose) asked the present Heights band directors if we could do the Stars and Stripes in the old manner. The directors had no idea what we meant. After Dick explained the drill to them, they set out to look for the flag.

A stage hand finally found it but the old flag was disintegrated and not ready for prime time. Dick immediately ordered another oversized flag and had it next-day shipped, in time to be prepared for the performance.

The concert that night began with the high school band and orchestra playing their pieces as well as a couple of selections from the fall high school musical, Sound of Music. All the performances were excellent and it was heartwarming to see that the great traditions of performance excellence at Heights were continued.

The old and young musicians finally assembled for their part in the concert. The old wrinkled chops came back to life and grandparents were playing like kids again. When it was time for the Holst Suite to be played, I realized how crazy I was to attempt this conducting chore. The band was shocked to see me on the podium instead of in the horn section. As I looked out in their faces, I sensed that they were saying, “OK Ken, we’re with you and we’re going to make this happen.” And they did. I was sweating buckets, but they were concentrating and somehow it worked. It was a great moment of everyone working together.

After the Holst, the final Stars and Stripes was played and emotions were high. Arthritic hips and knees prevented the old players from standing up as quickly as 50 years before, but there they were, proudly playing Sousa and pretending to be young again. They didn’t march up to the front but stood in place, magically the brand new flag was dropped at the right time, and those shiny brass instruments were raised and did their thing.

It was a thrilling moment for all. People in the audience cried and Alice Farinacci jumped out of her wheel chair to whoop and holler. The old magic of the Farinacci days came back, if just for a few hours.

Sadly there are no test scores for bands and orchestras to prove how good schools perform, but usually schools with excellent performing groups usually have great academics as well.

The Heights music program taught us discipline, pride, hard work and the importance of art in our lives.

The weekend in November is still being discussed and remembered by all of its participants. It was a perfect way to honor not only Mr. John F. Farinacci, but the profound importance that music and arts plays in our public schools.