Category: Headlines

Nine Composers Receive 2018 BMI Student Composer Awards

The BMI Foundation (BMIF), in collaboration with Broadcast Music, Inc. (BMI), has announced the winners of the 66th annual BMI Student Composer Awards. The awards were presented to nine composers, aged 18-26, at a private ceremony held on May 14, 2018, at Three Sixty° in New York City by composer Ellen Taaffe Zwilich, who serves as Chair of the Student Composer Awards, BMI President and CEO and BMIF Honorary Chair Mike O’Neill, and BMI Executive Director of Classical and BMIF President Deirdre Chadwick.

Deirdre Chadwick welcomes guests to the ceremony.

“We are excited to honor these deserving and talented young composers,” said Deirdre Chadwick, Director of the Student Composer Awards. “This is only the start to what is sure to be an exciting professional journey for them all.”

The 2018 award winners are:
Katherine Balch (b. 1991): Leaf Fabric (2017) for orchestra [c. 14′]
Jonathan Cziner (b. 1991): Resonant Bells (2018) for orchestra [12′]
Saad Haddad (b. 1992): Takht (2016) for full orchestra [c. 14′]
J.P. Redmond (b. 1999): Silhouette (2017) for full orchestra [c. 7′]
Matthew Schultheis (b. 1997): Chamber Concerto (2017) for 15 Players [c. 18′]
Gabriella Smith (b. 1991): Carrot Revolution (2015) for string quartet [11′]
Ari Sussman (b. 1993):Kol Galgal (2017) for orchestra [9’25”]
Amy Thompson (b. 1994): Somewhere to Elsewhere (2018) for harp and ensemble [21′]
Miles Walter (b. 1994): Eighteen figments after Joanna Newsom, Side A (2017) for violin, viola, cello, double bass, and piano [c. 11′]

Jonathan Cziner was additionally awarded the William Schuman Prize, for the score deemed most outstanding in the competition, and J.P. Redmond also received the Carlos Surinach Prize, which is awarded to the competition’s youngest winner. Plus, one additional composer, Avik Sarkar (b. 2001), received an honorable mention. The celebratory evening also featured a performance by the Emissary Quartet of the 2017 SCA-winning composition One Wish, Your Honey Lips composed by Annika K. Socolofsky.

The nine winners and honorable mention of the 2018 BMI Student Composer Awards.

The nine winners and honorable mention in the 2018 BMI Student Composer Awards.
Top row: Katherine Balch, Ari Sussman, Jonathan Cziner, Miles Walter, Avik Sarkar;
bottom row: Amy Thompson, J. P. Redmond, Gabriella Smith, Saad Haddad, and Matthew Schultheis.

Jonathan Cziner’s 2018 SCA and William Schuman Prize-winning composition Resonant Bells was selected for the 2018 New Jersey Symphony Orchestra Cone Composition Institute and will receive its world premiere performance by the NJSO under the direction of David Robertson at Princeton University’s Richardson Auditorium on July 14th, 2018. Saad Haddad’s 2018 SCA-winning composition Takht, which was one of the works selected for the 2017 NJSO Cone Institute, will be performed on May 25, 2018 by the Hangzhou Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of Yang Yang at the Forbidden City Concert Hall in Beijing, China during the 2018 International Society for Contemporary Music (ISCM) World New Music Days.

Alexandra du Bois, Jeremy Gill, Shawn Jaeger, and David Schober served as preliminary panelists this year. The final judges were Michael Daugherty, John Harbison, Shafer Mahoney, Judith Shatin, and Ricardo Zohn-Muldoon. Ellen Taaffe Zwilich is the permanent Chair of the competition. The BMI Student Composer Awards recognize superior musical compositional ability with annual educational scholarships totaling $20,000. This year, nearly 700 online applications were submitted to the competition from students throughout the Western Hemisphere, and all works were judged anonymously. BMI, in collaboration with the BMI Foundation, has awarded over 600 grants to young composers throughout the history of the competition.

Flute quartet performance during the ceremony.

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2018 ASCAP Foundation Morton Gould Young Composer Award Winners Announced

ASCAP Foundation President Paul Williams has announced the recipients of the 2018 ASCAP Foundation Morton Gould Young Composer Awards which encourages talented young creators of concert music. The composers, whose award-winning works were chosen from over 500 submissions from all over the United States, will be recognized at an ASCAP event later this year.

Below are details for this year’s 17 award-winning composers and the works for which they were chosen. Wherever possible, we have also featured a complete recording of the award-winning work (either embedded below the listing or linked from the title of the work). (Recipients who are under the age of 18 are listed only by state of residence, as per ASCAP’s policy.)

    • Oren Boneh of Oakland, CA (b. 1991 in Kansas):
      Lug (2017) for flute/piccolo, saxophone (soprano/baritone), piano, percussion, and string trio [13′]
    • Theophilus Chandler of Houston, TX (b. 1992, in Durham, NC)
      Songs from Brooches (2017) for two sopranos and orchestra [17′]
    • Frazar B. Henry of Florida (b. 2005 in Long Beach, CA)
      In Exordium for orchestra [3’55”]
    • Molly Joyce of Pittsburgh, PA (b. 1992 in Pittsburgh)
      Over and Under (2016) for organ and orchestra [9′]
    • Mayumi Kimura Meguro of Brooklyn, NY (b. 1993 in Mexico City, MX)
      Hana o Tobashite (2016) for orchestra [7′]
    • Alexis C. Lamb of Dekalb, IL (b. 1993 in Denver, CO)
      Meia for berimbau (solo through sextet) [30’30”]
    • Bo Li of Kansas City, MO (b. 1988 in China)
      Encirclement for orchestra [12′]
    • Piyawat Louilarpprasert of Ithaca NY (b. 1993 in Bangkok, Thailand)
      Particle Odyssey (2017) for orchestra [10′]
    • Charles Meenaghan of California (b. 2001 in CA)
      Klepsýdra for orchestra [18′]
    • Shashaank Narayanan of New Jersey (b. 2004 in India)
      Percussion Evoluzione for percussion ensemble [17’30”]
    • Charles Peck of Philadelphia, PA (b. 1988 in Norristown, PA)
      Vinyl (2017) for chamber orchestra [8′]
    • Peter S. Shin of Kansas City, MO (b. 1991)
      Screaming Shapes (2017) for amplified flute, bass clarinet, violin, cello, and fixed electronics [5’30”]

Screaming Shapes (2017) for amplified flute, bass clarinet, violin, cello, fixed electronics, and dance from Feral Bodies on Vimeo.

  • Aferdian Stephens of Jersey City, NJ (b. 1992 in Bayonne, NJ)
    Trio for violin, clarinet, and piano [18′]
  • Tina Tallon of Cambridge, MA (b. 1990 in Baltimore, MD)
    luscinia (2017) for orchestra and live electronics [13’30”]
  • Felipe Tovar-Henao of Bloomington, IN (b. 1991 in Colombia)
    La Mirada del Ouroboros (2017) for harp and sinfonietta [15’30”]
  • Max Vinetz of New Haven, CT (b. 1996 in Baltimore, MD)
    Allemande (2016) for solo cello [7′]
  • Alex Weiser of New York, NY (b. 1989 in NYC)
    and all of the days were purple (2017) for singer, piano, percussion, and string trio [28′]
A composite image of all 17 winners and 6 honorable mentions in the 2018 ASCAP Foundation Morton Gould Young Composer Awards.

The 17 winners and 6 honorable mentions of the 2018 ASCAP Foundation Morton Gould Young Composer Awards (all photos courtesy ASCAP).
First row (from left to right): Molly Joyce (photo by Nadine Sherman), Theophilus Chandler, Shashaank Narayanan, Justin Zeitlinger, Jenny Yao, Alex Weiser, and Frazar B. Henry;
Middle row: Piyawat Louilarpprasert, Charles Meenaghan, Oren Boneh, Bo Li, Tina Tallon, Felipe Tovar-Henao, Aferdian Stephens, and Mayumi Kimura Meguro;
Bottom row: Emma Cardon, Akshaya Tucker, Nathan Paek, Max Vinetz, Patrick Lenz, Charles Peck, Alexis C. Lamb, and Peter S. Shin.

In addition, six composers were given honorable mention.

  • Emma Cardon of Nashville TN (b. 1998 in Alexandria, VA)
    Airport Birds for string quartet [10’55”]
  • Patrick Lenz of Houston, TX (b. 1994 in Scranton, PA)
    Pillar of Fire for wind ensemble [7’05”]
  • Nathan Paek of Washington (b. 2004 in WA)
    NEUROTOCCATA (2018) for two pianos [4’33”]
  • Akshaya Tucker of Austin, TX (b. 1992 in Willow, NY)
    Breathing Sunlight for violin and cello duo [8’48”]
  • Jenny Yao of South Carolina (b. 2000 in Hangzhou, China)
    Non Compos Mentis (2017) for wind quintet, string quartet, and double bass [7’46”]
  • Justin Zeitlinger of New Jersey (b. 2000 in NJ)
    Broken Images for solo oboe [4’39”]

Established as The ASCAP Foundation Young Composer Awards in 1979 with funding from the Jack and Amy Norworth Fund, the program grants cash prizes to concert music composers up to 30 years of age whose works are selected through a juried national competition. To honor his lifelong commitment to encouraging young creators especially during his 1986-1994 tenure as President of ASCAP and The ASCAP Foundation (as well as the fact that his own music was first published, by G. Schirmer, when he was only six years old), the Young Composer program was named the Morton Gould Young Composer Awards, following his death in 1996. These composers may be American citizens, permanent residents, or students possessing US Student Visas. This year’s Morton Gould Young Composer Awards composer/judges were: Du Yun, Daniel Felsenfeld, Joel Hoffman, Lowell Liebermann, Tamar Muskal, Alvin Singleton, and Edward Smaldone.

Founded in 1975, The ASCAP Foundation is a charitable organization dedicated to supporting American music creators and encouraging their development through music education and talent development programs.

 

Kendrick Lamar Awarded 2018 Pulitzer Prize for DAMN.

Kendrick Lamar has been awarded the 2018 Pulitzer Prize in Music for DAMN.. The annually awarded prize is for a distinguished musical composition by an American that has had its first performance or recording in the United States during the previous year. This year the award includes a $15,000 cash prize.

WINNER:

DAMN., by Kendrick Lamar

Recording released on April 14, 2017, a virtuosic song collection unified by its vernacular authenticity and rhythmic dynamism that offers affecting vignettes capturing the complexity of modern African-American life.


Also nominated as finalists for the 2018 music prize were:

Quartet by Michael Gilbertson

Premiered on February 2, 2017, at Weill Recital Hall, Carnegie Hall, New York City, a masterwork in a traditional format, the string quartet, that is unconstrained by convention or musical vogues and possesses a rare capacity to stir the heart.


Sound from the Bench by Ted Hearne

Recording released on March 24, 2017, by The Crossing, a five-movement cantata for chamber choir, electric guitar, and percussion that raises oblique questions about the crosscurrents of power through excerpts from sources as diverse as Supreme Court rulings and ventriloquism textbooks.

Last year’s winner in music, composer Du Yun, sent out her congrats to the 2018 winners:

The nominating jury for the 2018 Pulitzer Prize, reviewing 186 music entries, included:

Regina Carter, jazz violinist, Maywood, NJ (Chair)
Paul Cremo, dramaturg/director of opera commissioning program, The Metropolitan Opera
Farah Jasmine Griffin, William B. Ransford Professor of English and Comparative Literature and African-American Studies, Columbia University
David Hajdu, music critic, The Nation and professor of journalism, Columbia University
* David Lang, composer, New York City (*Pulitzer Prize Winner)

This year’s recipients constitute the 102nd class of Pulitzer Prize winners. The prizes will be awarded at a lunch on May 30, 2018, at Columbia’s Low Memorial Library.

John Nuechterlein to Retire as President/CEO of American Composers Forum

John Nuechterlein has announced that he will retire as President/CEO of the American Composers Forum effective December 31, 2018. He shared the news recently with Forum board and staff, noting the decision to move on came slowly over the past few months. “The Forum is an extraordinary ecosystem of creative, imaginative people,” Nuechterlein says. “I feel privileged to have been part of that for twenty years, and I will miss it deeply.”

John Nuechterlein (photo by Nancy Hauck, courtesy American Composers Forum)

John Nuechterlein (photo by Nancy Hauck, courtesy American Composers Forum)

While John is retiring from his leadership role at ACF, he has no shortage of plans for the future. “I’ve listened to a lot of new music in my career at the expense of seeing new theater, watching new film, and exploring the work of visual artists,” he says. “I have a long list of places to visit for the first time, but I also look forward to discovering more of the rich tapestry of what is right here in Minnesota.”

John became President in 2003 after serving as its managing director for the previous five years. The breadth of programming has grown during his 15-year tenure through several new initiatives, most notably the NextNotes® High School Composition Awards and the national ACF CONNECT program. Especially meaningful to him was the recent launch of In Common, a collaborative artist residency program that gives communities an opportunity to explore their own diversity by sharing stories through the creation of new music. “The Forum has a long history of finding new ways to both support composers and integrate them meaningfully into our culture,” Nuechterlein explained. During his tenure the innova® Recordings label also experienced exponential growth–it’s now one of the most successful new music labels in the country with over 600 titles in its catalog. Its contribution to the contemporary music scene is internationally recognized.

“On behalf of the Board of Directors and the community of composers around the country”, says Board Chair Mary Ellen Childs, “I’d like to thank John for his excellent leadership over many years. He leaves ACF in superb shape, with a strong staff, secure financial footing, and an exciting new strategic plan on the horizon to guide the organization going forward. While we’re sad to see him go, we’re thrilled for him and all that is next in his life.”

The Forum’s board of directors will be conducting a national search to fill the position.

from the press release

2018 ASCAP Foundation Herb Alpert Young Jazz Composer Awards Announced

The ASCAP Foundation has announced the 15 recipients of the 2018 Herb Alpert Young Jazz Composer Awards as well as 7 additional honorable mentions. The program, which was established in 2002 to encourage young gifted jazz composers up to the age of 30, is named in honor of trumpeter/composer/bandleader Herb Alpert in recognition of The Herb Alpert Foundation’s multi-year financial commitment to support this program. Additional funding for this program is provided by The ASCAP Foundation Bart Howard Fund. The recipients, who receive cash awards, range in age from 14 to 29, and are selected through a juried national competition. The ASCAP composer/judges for the 2018 competition were: Sylvie Courvoisier, Wycliffe Gordon, and Sachal Vasandani. In addition, one of the recipients of the Herb Alpert Awards will be featured during the 2018 Newport Jazz Festival in August.

Photos of all of the recipients of 2018 Alpert Awards and Honorable Mentions.

“The class of 2018” – pictured herein are all of the 2018 Alpert Awardees and Honorable Mentions:
(top row, from left to right) Matthew Whitaker, Lucas Apostoleris, Eddie Codrington, Mariel Austin, Drew Zaremba, Garrett Wingfield;
(2nd row, L to R) Enrico Bergamini, Evan Hyde, Ben Barson, Josh Shpak, Alexander Hurvitz, Takumi Kakimoto;
(3rd row, L to R) Gene Knific, Elijah Shiffer, Zachary Rich, Estar Cohen;
(bottom row, L to R): Billy Test, Katelyn Vincent, Ben Rosenblum, Owen Broder, Sam Wolsk, and Sara McDonald.

Below is a complete list of the 2018 Herb Alpert Young Jazz Composer Award recipients and their award-winning compositions (click on the titles of the compositions to hear them):

Seven additional composers received Honorable Mention:

Announcing Event Pages

For years, we’ve heard from new music folks all over the country about the need for a centralized new music events calendar. Over the last year, we’ve been working to address this need, and today we are excited to announce the full launch of event pages on our platform. These pages give artists the ability to create and promote their events and offer audiences the ability to discover upcoming events they are interested in attending. Showcasing the breadth of new music creation around the country in a way that promotes artists and develops audiences is the driving mission behind event pages.

An example of an event page.

An example of an event page.

How Do I List My Events?

Anyone on our site, regardless of whether or not they have received a grant award, can create an event page. To create an event page, log in (make sure to register first, if you haven’t already) and navigate to the My Events page. You can get there by hovering over your name in the right corner of the navigation bar above and selecting “Events” from the dropdown. Next, click “Create an Event!” This takes you to a form where you can add all relevant information about your event such as a description, an image, a location, a link to purchase tickets, as well as tag anyone else who is part of the event. Once you’ve filled out the form, you can preview and publish your event page.

Start listing your events.

What Happens After I List My Event?

Once your event page is published, it becomes visible on your profile and the profiles of the other users you’ve tagged as part of the event. Your event page also appears on the Browse Events page of our site. Here, anyone can explore event pages based on location and keywords. Upcoming events also appear in the “On Our Calendar” content stream on our Explore page.

We are also cooking up new and interesting ways to showcase events on our homepage by connecting them in streams with other content on our site, like NewMusicBox articles, projects, profiles, and media. We want to amplify your work, and featuring what you’re up to on our homepage is one way to do that. Keep on the lookout for some of these content streams on our homepage soon.

In addition to showcasing events on our site, we’re also actively promoting event pages through social media, email, and other means. A weekly events email list we piloted this past year in New York City was successful, and we’re working to expand these sorts of email lists to other cities around the country.

How Do I Find Events I’m Interested In?

To find an event, visit the Browse Events page of our site. Here, you can sort through both upcoming and past events, refining by location and keyword search to discover exactly what you’re looking for.

There is also a more passive way to discover events on our site through the “On Our Calendar” content stream on our Explore page. While logged out users get a quick overview of upcoming events around the country, if you’re logged in and have entered your location on your profile then you will see upcoming events near you.

Find an event to attend.

What’s Next?

We’re continuing to tweak and refine event pages to better serve your needs. If you encounter any bugs, have questions, or want to offer suggestions for event pages, feel free to shoot us an email at [email protected].

Get started creating events and discovering events on our platform today.

Remembering Halim El-Dabh (1921-2017): A Citizen of the “Fourth World”

I still remember the first time I heard recordings from The Columbia Princeton Electronic Music Center that were issued in the early 1960s on Columbia Masterworks, as major a label as it got back in those days. (In fact, the head A&R guy there, Goddard Lieberson, was so powerful that he had the nickname “God.”) But by the time I got my hands on these LPs, bought for a pittance in a second-hand shop in the early ’80s, their liner notes’ claim of this being the music of the future seemed somewhat quaint. There was, however, a track on one of those records that didn’t sound at all like either wishful thinking from the past or a never-arrived-at future; it was just plain weird, but in a wonderful way. It was Leiyla and the Poet by an Egyptian-born composer named Halim El-Dabh.

El-Dabh came to the United States on a Fulbright in 1950, studied with Ernst Krenek and Aaron Copland, and wrote scores for Martha Graham. He was subsequently invited to work in the electronic music studio at Columbia University by Otto Luening and Vladimir Ussachevsky, after having already pursued electronic music independently. (Over a decade earlier in Cairo, he had already experimented with manipulating sounds using wire recorders at least four years before Pierre Schaeffer “invented” musique concrète.) To my 1980s ears, the 1959 piece he created at the Columbia-Princeton Electronic Music Center, Leiyla and the Poet sounded like a bizarre amalgam of psychedelic rock and the emerging global “world music” that was being created by traditional musicians from across the globe. But of course, Leiyla and the Poet predates all of those developments, too.

For decades that was the only piece of his I had ever heard, even though I treasured it. Then, at some point a little over a dozen years ago, Halim El-Dabh showed up briefly at the offices of the American Music Center to give us a copy of Denise A. Seachrist’s 2003 biography of him, The Musical World of Halim El-Dabh. After reading the book, I learned that in the late 1960s, El-Dabh accepted a tenured position at Kent State University in northeastern Ohio and, though he continued to travel around the world to teach and perform, it remained his home for the rest of his life. I had hoped to listen to more of his music, which is woefully underrepresented on commercial recordings (though there are some intriguing samples of it in a CD that accompanied the biography and on his website), and to eventually do a talk with him for NewMusicBox. But it never happened. On September 2, 2017, El-Dabh died at the age of 96, just a few months after attending the premiere of one of his recent compositions.

Back in June 2017, Tommy McCutchon, founder of the vital Unseen Worlds record label, conducted an extensive interview with Halim El-Dabh which might contain El-Dabh’s final in print reflections on his three-quarter-century involvement with musical traditions from around the world and finding ways to connect them together. In his preface to the interview, McCutchon stated that although the term “Fourth World” is now acknowledged as “the conceptual invention of American composer Jon Hassell, used to describe a particular style of ambient music he first popularized in the late seventies in collaboration with Brian Eno,” another example (which also predates it) is the “fully integrated cultural representation” in “the work of Egyptian-born composer, educator, electronic music pioneer, and ethnomusicologist Halim El-Dabh.”

‘Fourth World Music’ has since become a dominant sub-genre designation for any music that combines avant-garde electronic processing with a mélange of world music aesthetics. In it, familiar reference points intersect at an unlocatable place in the listener’s imagination, where the intellect is allowed to thrive. We can easily locate the Third World in popular culture, news, and travel, but the Fourth is the lesser-known beyond. It is not unlike four-dimensionality: we all know what 3D is, but the concept starts to get fuzzy when we talk about a fourth dimension.

For El-Dabh, however, this lesser-known beyond was where he and his music lived his whole life, and it was how he taught music to all people:

“I don’t like the idea of separation, and looking at it as something different. I don’t like that about Western music education. The way you start at school, the children have a natural rhythm. Teaching everything in 4/4 or 2/2 [meter]—I think there’s more to teach [than that]. I’ve met with a lot of elementary schools, and the kids have natural rhythms, a variety of natural rhythms. So, why should I hammer in them certain rhythms they’re really not used to? When you talk about Western music, that’s a huge tradition you’re talking about. The influence of Western music is huge. We just have to look at it in a variety of ways, and enhance in certain ways.”

Harmonies That Welcomed Imagination—Remembering John Abercrombie (1944-2017)

John Abercrombie set the template for me as far as how to play music with an open mind. His manner towards fellow musicians was one of total respect and equality. Through his playing and compositions, John embodied the essence of the truly great musicians that came before him.

While we all have spent/spend time practicing, John was more focused on using the process of playing as the main way to learn and get better. He loved it!  In his groups, he unselfishly provided an encouraging environment to grow and deepen as a musician / player.

Thomas Morgan, John Abercrombie and Joey Baron looking over a score during the recording session for the 2009 album Wait Till You See Her (Photo © Robert Lewis, courtesy ECM).

Thomas Morgan, John Abercrombie and Joey Baron looking over a score during the recording session for the 2009 album Wait Till You See Her (photo © Robert Lewis, courtesy ECM).

The special thing that stands out about John is his natural democratic manner as a player and writer. He could not help it—it’s just the way he was. John always welcomed his bandmates’ ideas and was a fearless team player. He had the whole package: energy, beauty, surprise, lyricism, soul, and swing.

The special thing that stands out about John is his natural democratic manner as a player and writer.

I never witnessed John having a “bad night.”

I remember he was a special guest on Jim Hall’s last gig (November 2013 at Lincoln Center’s Allen in New York.) Jim started the evening playing solo. John and I were backstage listening and John just started freaking out waving his hands up and down exclaiming, “Holy shit! That’s Jim Hall out there! He’s my hero! And he’s playing his ass off!!! What the hell am I supposed to do when I go out to play!!!!”

John made me feel that same way whenever I played with him.

An early ECM promotion photo of John Abercrombie (Photo © by Robert Masotti, courtesy ECM)

An early ECM Records’ promotion photo of John Abercrombie (Photo © by Robert Masotti, courtesy ECM).

In spite of the countless hardships that life as an artist in an oppressive society presents, John never gave up his commitment to making music the way he wanted. He wrote beautiful melodies and harmonies that welcomed imagination. What a gift!

I believe that when a person we love passes, despite the traumatic, deep sense of loss and sadness, we get to keep the best parts of that person forever through memories. I am forever grateful to have been part of John’s life and music. He was one of a kind. An incredible listener. A truly great artist. With tears on my face and a smile in my soul, I miss you John.

Drew Gress, Marc Copland, John Abercrombie and Joey Baron (photo © by Bart Babinski, courtesy ECM).

Drew Gress, Marc Copland, John Abercrombie and Joey Baron in 2013 (photo © by Bart Babinski, courtesy ECM).

Suspending Time and Figuring Out the Impossible—Remembering David Maslanka (1943-2017)

Generous. Kind. Humanitarian. Gentle. Mentor. Humble. Friend. Oh, and a composer. My first exposure to David Maslanka’s music was in the spring of 1986 at the University of Arizona when I led a performance of his 1981 wind ensemble composition A Child’s Garden of Dreams which had been commissioned by John and Marietta Paynter for the Northwestern University Symphonic Wind Ensemble. Conducting this music was a monumental, life changing experience for me as a young college wind band conductor and it was a work I returned to many times over the next twenty-six years. (Interestingly, A Child’s Garden of Dreams was both the first and last piece of David’s that I programmed, the last being in November of 2012, my final concert and recording session at ISU.)

My first exposure to David Maslanka’s music was a monumental, life changing experience for me as a young college wind band conductor.

I vividly recall sitting with Gary Green listening to the premiere performance of David’s Symphony No. 2 during the 1987 CBDNA Convention in Evanston, Illinois, gripping the seat, spellbound. The performing group was the combined Symphonic Band and Symphonic Wind Ensemble of Northwestern University conducted by John Paynter. Mr. Paynter had David say “a few words” prior to the premiere performance and I remember how this quiet, introspective individual speaking from the heart about his music captured me.

I moved to Normal, Illinois in the fall of 1987, beginning a quarter of a century journey with the Illinois State University Wind Symphony. When I arrived, I found a small, disheveled, underdeveloped group of students. We set about building an ensemble in an environment that previously had no wind band offering in the fall semester. In the spring of 1989, I “heroically” programmed Child’s Garden, which was a HUGE undertaking and underscores my naïveté at the time. David was very receptive to phone conversations, helping me realize the nature of his composition. He also spent time talking with a particular student who was having extreme misgivings about origins and the deeper meaning of his music.

Gary Green commissioned a “major work” from David, premiering Symphony No. 3 at the University of Connecticut in the fall of 1991. I attended the final couple of rehearsals and the premiere in Storrs taking advantage of the opportunity to spend some quality time with David on a couple of occasions, growing closer to his music and this quiet, generous man who would become my dear friend.

In the spring of 1993, both David and Gary came to campus for the final rehearsals and a performance of Symphony No. 3. I remember the experience being a real struggle for everyone involved, not the least of which were David and Gary.

When David was asked to write a piece, he composed until the music was finished. There was not a magic number of measures, nor was there a duration goal. Gary asked for a “major work,” not necessarily expecting a piece of the size and scope of Maslanka’s Third Symphony. Jerry Junkin commissioned a small work, maybe ten minutes or so, and received Symphony No. 4!

Jerry Junkin commissioned a small work, maybe ten minutes or so, and received Symphony No. 4!

I attended the final rehearsal and premiere of the 4th in Austin, Texas and developed a stronger, more intense relationship with David. We programmed it at ISU in the fall of 1994. That final week of rehearsals with David was the seminal experience for me, making a connection that lasted two decades. Following the stunning conclusion of the symphony and multiple “curtain” calls, I recall that David and I stood in the adjacent room for what seemed like an eternity waiting for the ensemble and audience to emerge from the performance space. Students and audience members alike said they were just “too drained” to move.

David Maslanka and Stephen K. Steele (center left and right) with organist Karen Collier and timpanist Karen Cole following our first performance of Symphony No. 4 in November 1994.

David and I with organist Karen Collier and timpanist Karen Cole following our first performance of Symphony No. 4 in November 1994.

We commissioned Symphony No. 5, receiving the parts for the first three movements prior to winter break in 2000. The Wind Symphony had a limited number of reading rehearsals before leaving for their break and we planned an extended rehearsal period across the Martin Luther King weekend, just prior to the spring semester beginning. David came to campus for those January rehearsals and we worked our way diligently through the first three movements over a number of rehearsals. Finally, he asked about the fourth movement. The students had it but we hadn’t read it as the parts arrived during the winter break. After we “slashed” our way through the movement, the room was deathly quiet. David slowly looked up and said, “My God, what have I done?” He decided at that moment that he NEVER wanted to be present to hear his music sight read again!!!

By the time of that workshop weekend I felt that I knew David very well. When he visited campus he stayed in my home. David traveled with a rolled up exercise pad he used for a thirty minute yoga stretching each morning at 5:00 or 5:30. He frequently cooked for us. It was not unusual for him to take hour or longer walks. Like the yoga, that too was a period of meditation for him. David HAD to have the daily New York Times cross word puzzle, which he did in ink! David was a very easy houseguest and we had some wonderful chats, not always about the music. We had shared stories, music, philosophy, passionate opinions and laughter. NEVER in all that time had I heard him swear. Not even “damn,” or “hell.” In the course of that long weekend, during one particular read-through, I had a metronome amplified through speakers so the ensemble could hear it, in an effort to help the ensemble develop a unified and steady pulse. David walked up behind me as the ensemble was slashing away and said directly in my ear, “Turn that fucking thing off.” I got the point; I never used a metronome in the same manner again.

David HAD to have the daily New York Times cross word puzzle, which he did in ink!

Symphony No. 5 was important in many ways to the relationship between David, the Wind Symphony, and myself. David returned to campus for the premiere and to travel on tour, culminating at the University of North Texas, site of the 2001 CBDNA convention. David convinced me that the piece needed to be recorded and released through Albany Records. I resisted, not being a fan of the measure-by-measure recording process that had become standard practice by then. He put me in touch with Jeff Harrison in Massachusetts who talked me through the recording process that would produce a musical representation. Jeff loaded up his gear and met us in Dallas. We arranged the use of a west Dallas high school auditorium and recorded all the repertoire we planned to perform at CBDNA the next day; this became our first Albany release. That began a long relationship with Jeff Harrison, Susan Bush of Albany Records, David and myself, releasing more than twenty recordings through 2013. David produced each and every recording; painstakingly involved whether it was his music or not.

Stephen K. Steele and David Maslanka looking through one of his scores near a kitchen sink.

David and I looking through one of his scores at my home in Hudson, Illinois in November 2010.

David and I often talked of the “ripple effect.” He realized the importance of working with the conductors and ensemble members who were preparing and performing his works. From a small core of conductors and their students, a “ripple effect” has been occurring and will continue to build. He tried ever so diligently to be present for each and every conductor who invited him to be part of his or her experience.

A former student was asked to describe his experiences with David and said, “You just can’t explain someone’s soul.” David did that; exposed his soul, in his music, in his teaching, in his conversations with you. His music does that with audiences. He and his music communicate at a deeply intense and personal level. To David, the act of making music is pure meditation at its most basic level, music provides the most basic form of communication. If those whom he touched were willing to listen and do the things he suggested, they too would experience these things that seemed so unlikely and confusing to most. Time is suspended when playing and/or listening to David’s music. It never failed. Each and every time on the podium in concert, when turning the final page, I would always think “Really? Already?” David wrote music to satisfy what the music needs rather than the opposite. He frequently told me that he would be finished with a particular composition when the music said it was finished.

David and his music communicate at a deeply intense and personal level.

David’s music could be extremely difficult, but his expectation was that the musicians would figure out how to make it possible. I recall a trumpet teacher commenting that David didn’t know how to write for trumpet. My reply was that David didn’t know how to write for bad trumpet players. My experience was that for those individuals who were diligently prepared and paid attention to the music, they were better musicians as a result of the process. A tuba player brought an oxygen tank to a rehearsal of David’s Symphony No. 8 to assist him with the sustained B. If you know the piece, you know of what I am speaking. On the side of the cylinder was written “for use during Maslanka’s Symphony No. 8.” Many people have thought that they couldn’t possibly play David’s music with their groups. He would show them that they could. In rehearsals he would make very soft and gentle suggestions, most often regarding what was clearly indicated in the score and parts. He simply called it “paying attention.” I used David’s Collected Chorale Settings, 117 four-part chorales composed in the 18th-century style, to begin every rehearsal in order to set the “tone” and intonation as well as to assist with the notion of “paying attention” and laying the foundation of the ensemble “sound.” David scored these chorales from his daily work with the 371 Four-Part Chorales of J. S. Bach, using the original melodies and composing new alto, tenor and bass lines.

David at the piano in Missoula, Montana, in June 2008.

David at the piano in Missoula, Montana, in June 2008. David began each composition session playing and singing Bach chorales. He said the most important aspect of succeeding was to “show up.”

David’s music speaks, regardless of the technical proficiency of the individuals or the collective ensemble.

David’s music notation was always very specific. His work in rehearsals to gain the marked tempi and expressive marks made the music come to life. However, to David, it was not about the perfect performance, it was about the experience the musicians and audience could gain from it. David’s music speaks, regardless of the technical proficiency of the individuals or the collective ensemble. Once, during a rehearsal of the final movement of A Child’s Garden of Dreams, I looked at the principal flute who had tears streaming down her cheeks as she played the final flute solo which ends the piece. Yes, she cried during the concert as well.

David had an uncanny ability to connect with people. And I mean, immediately connect with people. He ALWAYS had time for people, whether during a residency, during a convention, on the phone, via email, whatever. It didn’t matter whether the person was a fellow composer, a conductor, a college student, a high school student, or an interested community member, ANYONE. ALWAYS. It was not unusual for David to have developing composers visit Missoula for a week or more of lessons and meditation.

David Maslanka (far right) and Stephen K. Steele (center) with students: taken at a steak house during the Symphony No. 5 tour and CBDNA performance in Denton, TX, February 2001

David and I with students: taken at a steak house during the Symphony No. 5 tour and CBDNA performance in Denton, Texas in February 2001.

David always used pencil writing his scores. Always. He told me it connected him more personally to the music. I believe that to be true.

David kept a relentless schedule of residencies. Typically, he travelled from November through May, spending time with conductors and ensembles that invited him to their campuses. He worked with community groups, high school bands, and university ensembles. He connected with students, conductors, and community members, causing the ripples to spread and grow.

David connected with students, conductors, and community members, causing the ripples to spread and grow.

The work we did with David on No. 5 led to more commissions. We commissioned, premiered and recorded symphonies 7, 8 and 9. Between 2001 and 2012, there were many other commissions, premieres and recording projects as well. He wrote many lovely concerti for wind instruments and wind ensemble, occasionally utilizing beautiful cello writing in the score. One of David’s favorite compositions was A Carl Sandburg Reader for baritone and soprano voice and wind ensemble. (David had a strong connection to both Abraham Lincoln and Carl Sandburg.)

During his residency for No. 9 we made plans to commission Symphony No. 10. David was adamant about needing to write 10. We decided to let a bit of time lapse following 9 before building plans for 10. Our goal was to premiere and record 10 in the spring of 2014, which I projected to be my retirement concert. Things came to a sudden and unexpected end when I left ISU in the spring of 2013. What to do with 10? David had a growing stack of sketches that “belong in 10.” During the spring of 2014 we came to an agreement with another conductor to lead the consortium supporting the completion of 10. The consortium got off to a rather slow beginning, picking up steam in the summer of 2016.

At almost the same time, a consortium for No. 11 filled its membership rapidly, putting 10 in jeopardy. David asked if I would complete the consortium for 10, to which I agreed. My goal was to reach forty members. I only achieved thirty, but David assured me that it didn’t matter, 10 was well on its way. We aimed for a September 2017 premiere with a Tucson professional ensemble. The premiere of No. 11 was to be in the spring of 2018 and he would get some space between them.

The residency travels between November 2016 and May 2017 were particularly grueling for David. He complained of constant fatigue and the inability to compose. When he was finally finished and returned home for the summer, his wife Alison was bedridden.  Very soon after that, David not only found that Alison was terminally ill but that he was in an advanced stage of colon cancer. Through all of this, Alison continued to urge him to complete 10 since it was through his composing that he lived. Alison passed away on July 3 and David passed away on August 6.

Alison and David Maslanka in late June 2017

Alison and David in late June 2017.

David left clear notes for an anticipated completion of his 10th symphony.

Before his death, David told me he was dedicating 10 to Alison. His scoring was complete for the first movement and most all of the second. He had crossed out the work on the third movement and replaced it with sketches. This was to be the centerpiece for Alison. The fourth movement is fully sketched but will require some interpretation. He left clear notes for an anticipated completion of the symphony. David’s son, Matthew, owner of Maslanka Press, who knows his father’s sketches and composing well, is convinced at this point that he will be able to successfully complete the score. We hope for a March 2018 premiere. Nearly all the membership of the No. 11 consortium is opting to join with the No. 10 membership. All commission fees will become the seed money for the Maslanka Foundation.

My wife Andrea and I, along with many of our friends and colleagues, will travel to Missoula for a September 3 memorial honoring Alison and David. I am a better person having known David. The world is a better place having David’s music. May the ripples continue.

Alison and David Maslanka dancing outside in June 2008, somewhere in Wyoming

Alison and David traveled to middle America to attend our 2008 wedding. Andrea and I took them home from Hudson, IL, sharing our honeymoon, somewhere in Wyoming, June 2008.


Victor Pesavento
ISU Alum
Freelance musician in Los Angeles
Golden State Pops Orchestra Music Director

(The following text has been reprinted from his Facebook page with permission.)I had the opportunity to work with Dr. Maslanka on two or three occasions while in the Wind Symphony at Illinois State University, always on a “professional” level. I never had the chance to hang out with him after rehearsals or any other informal situations so I can’t speak about him in that regard. However, as a clinician, he struck me as a very warm, caring man. He was always encouraging of the group and I always loved listening to his stories about what the inspirations were for his compositions.

My first experience with David’s music (that is, outside of Rollo Takes a Walk during a summer music camp) was with Symphony No. 4. We performed this monumental work only a year after its composition. I remember weeks of grueling rehearsals in which Dr. Steele systematically tore apart the ensemble and then slowly put it back together piece by piece, 16th note by 16th note. There were many tears shed and I’m sure some blood also along the way.

There were many tears shed and I’m sure some blood also along the way.

The symphony was technically beyond most of us in the group, but away we sequestered ourselves in the dungeon-esque practice rooms of the Cook Hall castle. At any given hour of any given day you would find at least one member of the clarinet section toiling away at one-quarter speed some hellish passage that would probably be equally difficult even if written for a piano. I remember hours spent on two bars here or two bars there, each more impossibly difficult than the prior, just to be able to lock seamlessly into the “grid” when I got into rehearsal with everyone else.

Among the pains were of course the pleasures. Anyone who knows the piece will recall the first 29 bars as an a capella horn solo in the key of G with the ensemble entering on a beautiful G major chord as the horn completes the opening thematic statement. I will never forget the day that the horn soloist (Kent) decided to transpose his opening solo by a half step, making for a wonderfully awful sounding surprise when the band entered (still in G) in bar 30.

As we neared the end of the cycle, after all the hours spent in the practice rooms and in ensemble rehearsal, after all the metronome batteries had died, the week of the concert was here. The first rehearsal with Dr. Maslanka came and we were all very excited to perform for him this piece on which we had worked so hard. In Cook Hall room 212, during that rehearsal, the ISU Wind Symphony gave what might have been the best performance in my entire tenure in the ensemble. I say “might have been,” but more on that in a bit. This rehearsal “performance” was nothing short of spectacular. The group was so focused that you could reach out and feel the energy and life force in the room. We finished the piece and all looked around at each other with huge grins on our faces. All those hours in the practice rooms had paid off and we were now seeing the results. The only down side…did we just peak? Surely we couldn’t re-create that same level of symbiotic energy later in the week for the concert. This had to have been the pinnacle of our labors.

After all the metronome batteries had died, the week of the concert was here.

The next couple of rehearsals we didn’t really hit the technical side of the music too hard. Instead, Dr. Maslanka took us on a wonderful ride of imagery and symbolism. This trumpet lick here signifies this and that impossibly difficult run in the saxes signifies that. Hearing his stories about how President Lincoln’s funeral train fit into the music was truly enlightening. At this point, there weren’t any scales left to practice; no more notes to learn. This week was when we learned the music.

Armed with our hard earned technical proficiency and with this new musical insight from the composer (and thankfully a bit of tapering on the endurance of the chops), we arrived at concert day. The concert opened with a fantastic Alfred Reed piece for wind ensemble and pipe organ and as we finished I remember thinking, “Holy shit, that was #$%^ing unbelievable.” We followed the Reed with pieces by Grainger and Weinberger, both of which were accompanied by the pipe organ. Finally the time came for the Symphony.

Payoff time.

I always get more nervous listening to a colleague play a difficult solo than when I myself am playing a solo. In this case, I can’t even count on one hand the rare times Kent had chipped a note in rehearsals; he was automatic (even sight transposing a half step out.

I learned that day what it meant to be a true professional.

Twenty-nine bars of unaccompanied horn solo to begin a symphony. Weeks and weeks of rehearsals. The group was feeling confident, especially after how great the concert was going so far that evening. All it would take would be one chipped note, one missed partial on a lip slur from the horn solo to break everyone’s concentration. No pressure, right? I would like to say that Kent played the solo as well as any other time he played it in the countess rehearsals leading up to that moment. He didn’t. He played it better. With the spotlights on and with hundreds of audience members waiting with anticipation, he played with the most musicality and passion that I had ever heard. I smiled a huge grin and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when that magical G major chord sounded in bar 30.

During a thirty minute piece, you usually have no choice but to let your mind wander a bit while counting rests. I don’t remember losing focus for even a beat. It felt as if the ensemble was breathing and playing all as one unit, as if we were just puppets whose strings were being manipulated by some outside being. There were missed notes. There were rhythms that weren’t quite locked in. The difference this time was that were weren’t playing the notes or rhythms. We were playing the music. I remember tearing up a little bit during the clarinet extended technique section mimicking crying babies. Maybe because of the music, maybe because I knew all the hard work that everyone put in was paying off greater than we could have ever imagined. As we neared the end of the piece and the “Old One Hundredth” anthem started sounding, I could sense the horns to my left (Kent, Brandon, Eric and Marc) starting to let loose a bit more, everything seemed so easy. We were playing the loudest I’d ever experienced in that section but yet it felt effortless.

As Dr. Steele gave us the final release of the piece (an ending, I contend, that rivals any Mahler symphony), I remember taking a deep breath and thinking to myself, “Well, that wasn’t too taxing, I could probably play that whole show again tonight.” I was quickly brought back to reality when my knees buckled and I almost fell back into my chair as the section was summoned to stand for a bow.

I mentioned earlier that I thought that there was no way that we could have performed better than our first reading for Dr. Maslanka. I was right. We were nowhere near as technically sound as we were that rehearsal, but none of that mattered. The difference in musicality was immeasurable. Everyone in the room felt it. I can’t think of another concert I’ve performed in or attended that elicited this level of emotion from an audience. Looking out of the audience, there were a number of people crying, overcome by the journey that Dr. Maslanka’s music had just taken them on. The wave of emotion wasn’t just reserved for the audience, either.

Of course, it’s always said that you get out of something what you put into it and I think that may be why all of us involved in this performance look back on it with such fondness. We worked our asses off for months on this music and then when Dr. Maslanka showed up and shared himself with us, we became emotionally invested as well.

This is the single greatest performance I’ve been involved with.

To this day, this is the single greatest performance I’ve been involved with. Not because it was technically perfect, or because the group was so talented that we could play this incredibly difficult music like it was whole notes…but because of the exact opposite. Because we earned it. As a group. And Dr. Maslanka was the whole reason. His music, his being, his guidance and most of all, his passion for making music and for working with groups like ours.

To Dr. Maslanka, may you rest in peace. Thank you for giving me and my colleagues a memory that we will carry with us our entire lives.

David Maslanka and Stephen K. Steele with the ISU Wind Symphony horn section: taken during the recording sessions of A Child’s Garden of Dreams, November 2012

David and I with the ISU Wind Symphony horn section: taken during the recording sessions of A Child’s Garden of Dreams, in November 2012.

Emily Nunemaker
ISU Alum
West Carroll High School Band Director
Mount Carroll, Illinois

(The following text has been reprinted from her Facebook page with permission.)So in this mourning process that I’m sure all the ISU kids are experiencing, I’m listening and remembering. I’m on a road trip alone and had to pull over while listening to the 2nd Symphony. I forgot how visceral the middle movement is, how dark and ominous and impending. It shook me absolutely to my core.

I remembered my very first impression of this music. I remembered wandering lost, looking for my first wind symphony rehearsal and being shown how to find the room by an older musician. I remember opening my folder to the first two cycles worth of music and eyeballing some Hindemith and being like, “okay, that seems fine” and then pulling up Symphony No. 2 by a man I’d never heard of, David Maslanka, and at first glance (and every subsequent glace) thinking “Oh shit, I’m in the wrong place. I don’t belong here. I can’t do this.”

I nearly left, as a wet behind-the-ears freshman I thought surely there was some mistake because I couldn’t possibly be expected to play this. But something made me stay and work harder than I ever had in my life to earn the right to play it and to do so among the most superb musicians I had ever encountered and for the most intense, terrifying, and utterly brilliant conductor I had ever encountered, Stephen Steele. Now I was a solid reader but I failed miserably at my first stab and spent more time working that monster than the 4th and the Mass combined. (Maybe I was more Maslanka ready the next few times?)

But the payoff, oh the payoff.

I wanted to be worthy of being in that section, worthy of playing that piece.

If you don’t know the E-flat solo in movement 1, then you can’t possibly imagine my awe to hear Mandy Fey Carota put so much passion into every swell of every note. Listening now I’m in tears remembering how she and Christine Hoover Tuck were my first true clarinet idols and it was No. 2 that did it. I wanted to be worthy of being in that section, worthy of playing that piece. Now listening I remember the 3rd movement ripping through me tearing me limb from limb and then putting me back together better than I was before.

That is Maslanka’s music to me, destroying everything I think I know about myself and returning me to myself better than I was before.

Members of the ISU Wind Symphony

Members of the ISU Wind Symphony during a rehearsal with David, in November 2010.

A Fearless and Kind Leader—Remembering Geri Allen (1957-2017)

The vast number of people in this world that the great Geri Allen has influenced is undeniable. She has been an outstanding musician, mother, educator, mentor, and role model to many—including myself.

I owe a lot to Ms. Allen. Her music was extremely influential on me, including her albums such as The Life of a Song, as well as her playing on Betty Carter’s albums Feed the Fire and Droppin’ Things, Ornette Coleman’s Sound Museum: Hidden Man, and Charlie Haden’s Montreal Tapes with Paul Motian. I am grateful that I had the opportunity to play with her on several occasions, as well as to teach alongside her at the NJPAC All-Female Residency, which she directed.

Her musicality never ceased to astound me. With her deep connection with the present musical moment, she had the ability to pull you into that space along with her.

Geri Allen (Photo by Gabriel Rodes)

Geri Allen (Photo by Gabriel Rodes)

In 2014 I was lucky enough to teach at the first NJPAC residency, and also to play for six of her seven-night residency performances at The Stone in New York City during the same week. We would meet every morning at 8:30 a.m. for a faculty meeting, then teach until 5 or 6 p.m. Geri would drive us straight to The Stone, and we’d play until 11 p.m. or so. Then she would give some of us rides home, or wait with those who had already had rides, just to make sure they would be okay getting home.

Towards the end of the week I asked her how she did it, juggling everything—teaching, family, and performing—all while seemingly calm, un-phased, giving the students her all, as well as the music. She laughed and said that she had been through childbirth three times and that “this ain’t nothing.”

With all the talk about gender inequality in jazz, the suggestions of band quotas or blind auditions always seems to come up. But without more emphasis on earlier development and mentorship in the earlier stages, these quotas or blind auditions may not solve everything. Geri focused on that mentorship and directed the NJPAC Residency for female students. This camp is like no other, and I’ve seen so many gifted and talented young women grow by participating in it. She brought in high-caliber musicians, speakers, and educators, both male and female. In addition to the music itself, the program would also encompass a broader range of issues—conversations not just on musicianship, but also discussions about very important and often overlooked issues of career sustainability, personal goals, aspirations, and obstacles encountered due to gender bias. Also addressed was the reality of being a touring female musician and how that affects the other parts of your non-musical life. A lot of these personal realities can determine a woman’s career sustainability within the jazz scene.

The NJPAC Residency for female students is a camp like no other, and I’ve seen so many gifted and talented young women grow by participating in it.

I felt that through this residency Geri really helped to bring all these women together, ultimately creating a support network and community hailing from different generations. It was an empowering and inspiring experience I was lucky to be a part of.

Earlier on in my career I did not want to discuss my experiences as a female within a male-dominated scene, in fear that discussing any of these hardships I had faced would be seen as complaining and it would invalidate the work I had put into my music.

This changed throughout the years when I began to teach more female students and especially when I was put in situations like this residency under the direction of Allen. There was the realization that it’s not only okay to discuss these experiences, but it’s important to address these issues and to have a support network for the next generation of female musicians. She demonstrated how to teach with kindness while also encouraging students to push and challenge themselves.

I remember during conversations with her that she would ask me what I was working on and what my goals were. She would mention programs for grants, fellowships, etc., but never that I “should” apply. Instead she would instead ask in an empowering manner, “Is this something that interests you and something you’d like to pursue?”

Geri Allen was the kind of person who made you believe you were special and capable of anything.

A huge inspiration to all and an indisputably remarkable musician and person, she was the kind of person who made you believe you were special and capable of anything. It makes me happy to see all these beautiful photos and hear these stories about her strong and selfless character from people much closer to her than I was.

I hope the best for all of her family and friends during this difficult time. As a female instrumentalist working on jazz, I can’t help feeling like we’ve lost our fearless leader, but I feel incredibly lucky to have known this beautiful spirit. Her legacy will live on.

Pictured (from left to right): Maria Elena Gratereaux, Geri Allen,Terri Lynne Carrington, Linda Oh, Ingrid Jensen, and Cecilia Venel. (Photo by Gabriel Rodes)

Pictured (from left to right): Maria Elena Gratereaux, Geri Allen,Terri Lynne Carrington, Linda Oh, Ingrid Jensen, and Cecilia Venel. (Photo by Gabriel Rodes)