Handel & Haydn Society of Boston Honors Prof. Tom Kelly at their Gala tomorrow! Im thrilled that the Bostonians will have this special evening in Toms honor. I sent along some thoughts and memories to H&H. But Tom is larger than life and cant be compressed into the 1-paragraph limit I was given. So here is the full version. Reflections on an Obsessed Professor When I think about my beloved professor and mentor, Tom Kelly, I see him sitting at a typewriter – not a computer but a typewriter – in his office at Oberlin in 1988. Yes, we did have computers back then, but Tom was using a typewriter for a particular labor of love. He was typing an English singing translation of Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo into the score, so that we, the students of Oberlin, could perform the piece in English. In order to do this, Tom had to first photocopy the entire score, then enlarge it, then insert 1 page at a time into his typewriter and painstakingly type in the English words, aligning them correctly under the notes. This involved squishing the letters of some words, when there was not enough space – by holding onto the arm of the typewriter so it could not advance as much as usual. And, stretching some words by putting extra spaces between letters. A stack of typed pages of score sat on his right, and a stack of pages waiting to be typed sat on his left. I would stop in each day to see how the process was going. Being somewhat obsessed like my professor, I was intensely eager to see how much the left-hand pile had shrunk each day, and thrilled to see the right-hand pile growing. Would it have been easier to perform it in Italian? Well, easier for Tom. But not better for the comprehension of the audience who would be attending. Monteverdi wrote the piece in the common tongue of his audience – not in Latin - because he wanted his audience to understand it with complete immediacy and full dramatic impact. And Tom Kelly is a man of principle. I met Tom on my very first day at Oberlin. He was new as well. He was the much-anticipated new head of the Historical Performance program, and the Con was a-buzz about this brilliant and charming professor and Harvard Ph.D., whom Oberlin had nabbed. I was merely a new Artist Diploma student in harpsichord and conducting, who really did not know how to play the harpsichord yet, (but I had been accepted based on certain Signs there might perhaps be some promise). There were rumors that Tom might lead some kind of baroque opera project during Winter Term, and I was thrilled about this. “Imagine,” I thought, “if we might some day do Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo.” (L’Orfeo was my favorite piece in the world.) I was introduced to Professor Kelly in the hallway of the Con. “I’m so glad you’re here!” I said with shining eyes. “Well, I’m so glad YOU’RE here!” he responded, to my surprise. That’s Tom – making every student feel special. His North Carolina twang was astonishing. “I’ve been thinking it would be fun to do some big opera project in January, and I’m going to need help,” he said. “What do you think we could tackle?” And then I discovered that Tom Kelly’s favorite piece in the world is… Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo. Please note that the title is “L’Orfeo,” not “Orfeo.” If you fail to include the definite article, Tom will be sure to correct you. THE Orfeo. Monteverdi included the article, and this distinction opens up worlds of meaning. At least, it does if you are obsessed by the piece. Tom needed a year to type the translation into the score. So meanwhile, we did Handel’s Acis & Galatea that first year. I was thrilled that I got to play 2-harpsichord continuo with Tom, in a real baroque orchestra. I had never done such a thing, but Tom did not waste time explaining how it is done. He just played, and I learned by listening. This was generally Tom’s method with us. I later took a Winter Term course with him where we learned to sing Gregorian chant. He did not waste time explaining the notation. He just sang, and we sang with him, and found ourselves understanding it. Just as a child learns a language. Everyone knows about Tom’s famous course, First Nights, which is now a beautiful and critically acclaimed book read by students and amateurs alike. These days, Tom presents this brilliant course to 700 students in Sanders Theatre. What you don’t know is that Tom created the course for a group of 7 – count them, 7 - students at Oberlin. I was one of them. And being led by Tom through this discovery of the fascinating contextual approach to music – examining the cities, concert halls, audiences, conductors, musicians, the sound of the music, and the responses of audiences and critics, through studying the first performances of five famous pieces – this experience basically shaped the rest of my life. I wanted to create concert programs that were like Tom’s course – drawing mainstream audiences into the music, not by dumbing it down, but by using the political, social and historical context to create windows into the artistic experience. It’s not surprising that Tom’s book has 5 stars from the customers of Amazon, as well as critical acclaim from the scholarly community. That is his gift – making music accessible through lively intellectualism. You might wonder whether a Ph.D. in medieval plainchant would really have much to say about Beethovens Ninth Symphony, or Stravinskys Rite of Spring. But I think when Tom was not typing the translation into the L’Orfeo score, he was sitting at his piano, playing the inner voices of the slow movement of Beethoven’s Ninth, and noticing the symbolism of each turn of phrase. His analysis of that piece was by far the most in-depth and meaningful that I ever encountered, though I went on to study Beethoven symphonies at Tanglewood with Bernstein and Slatkin and others. The same rigorous sense of discipline that led Tom to close the classroom door at 8:00am every morning, so that those of us who arrived at 8:02 with wet hair would find the door closed and would never dare to be late again – that same sense of discipline pervaded his teaching, and I believe, pervades his study of great scores that he loves. After I had graduated and gone to Amsterdam to study with Leonhardt, I returned to Oberlin in order to launch Apollo’s Fire in that suburb of Oberlin, known as Cleveland. The following year, I was going to move to Cleveland, but then I saw that Tom was offering a new course, that I hadn’t taken yet. It was an entire semester devoted to the B Minor Mass. I knew I couldn’t miss it. So I went to see Professor Kelly and asked if I could sit in on the class now and then, when I could make it back to Oberlin. The North Carolina twang informed me of Tom’s policy for auditors, which was that they are welcome as long as they attend every single class. No absences. So I took a deep breath and postponed the move to Cleveland. And I was very careful to get to class by 8:00am. Twenty years later, I still have my notes from that course. Tom, on behalf of a generation of early music performers – Oberlin grads, Harvard grads, and readers of your books across the country – thank you for opening up a new and beautiful world for us. The audiences in cities wherever your former students are at work are inspired, deepened and challenged, thanks to the inspiration you gave us. Love, Jeannette P.S. By the way, Amazon’s description of your book has Orfeo spelled without the L! Better let them know!
Posted on: Fri, 21 Mar 2014 17:39:50 +0000
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