To begin with, all undergraduate students were required to live in the Eastman dormitories, which were located, not near the actual Eastman School downtown, as might be expected, but somewhat further away. We were encouraged to walk both ways, even in bad weather which occurred rather often. (I believe this was an attempt on the part of school officials to automatically include regular exercise in our daily routine, in order to offset the amount of sitting in class or practicing an instrument - a necessary activity for music students.) The walk took about 1/2 hour, and was pleasant when not raining or snowing ...one could also take a bus or cab, if one chose. I elected to walk (although at one point it became necessary for me to take cabs to school ---more about that later.)
There were assigned practice rooms at the school --- the better pianos (not great, by a long shot) were located on one floor, the rooms for non-pianists were elsewhere on other floors. I quickly learned that certain pianos were much better than others, so it was necessary for a person to ensconce themselves in a practice room of their choice early in the morning by depositing their belongings, (coat, hat, music, etc.) in the room. First come, first served was the prevailing rule. There was a hierarchy to all of this, as I recall, that depended upon the person's grade level (freshman, sophomore, junior, senior, etc.) and also on the perceived status of the pianist. The 'best' pianists took the best pianos, and no one had better even THINK about usurping that space. So each practice room became known by the name of the person that practiced in it. After breakfast, we would all make a beeline for school, in order to get 'our' room. And to complicate matters, if one left the room for more than 10 minutes, another student could 'take' it, often causing severe arguments. My group of friends and I all had rooms next to each other, and somehow we succeeded in intimidating the other students into leaving our rooms ALONE, even if we were absent for more than 10 minutes --- such as for lunch, or coffee breaks. I recall one situation when I found that someone (a lowly freshman, who didn't know better) had taken 'my room' in the morning, and I was quite upset. He wouldn't leave, so I went to get my two friends, Joe and Gordon, who had the intimidation technique down to a science. The three of us then opened the door very quickly and LOUDLY(!) and just stared at the hapless individual in 'my' room. Joe was particularly adept at 'menacing' looks, so this usually worked. On the occasions when more severe techniques were necessary, one of us would go by the room, and loudly yanking down the handle of the door, interrupt very often ....such as every 5 minutes. This ALWAYS worked, so one just waited for the offending person to leave....when they realized they would have NO peace. We were so bad ...I laugh to myself when I think of all those shenanigans.
Instrumentalists did not have the same requirements...the pianos were almost always Very Bad, or non-existent. Some rooms had only chairs and music stands....and no piano at all. So if an instrumentalist needed to rehearse with a pianist, that would have to be done in the pianist's room. My closest girlfriend at school was a marvelous oboist, (Dayna Larason); she and I rehearsed together quite often. [And indeed later in our lives, we played many concerts together as a duo, and also chamber music with other musicians. We are friends to this day; I know her 2 daughters well. One is a fantastic violinist with the Philadelphia Orchestra (Kim), and the other became a wonderful dancer (Lorna). Both of them have teen-age children, who are also very talented in music. Dayna became one of the best known and highly respected oboists in the country. Her husband, Larry Fisher, also an Eastman graduate (somewhat earlier than we), is a very fine violinist - plays in various musical groups in the Seattle area, and teaches privately at home as well as in prestigious music camps during the summer.
At Eastman there is an honor for which all soloists strive - and that is the PERFORMER'S CERTIFICATE. It involved an audition before a large jury of various faculty members, and is much like a competition, in that one was required to prepare an entire concerto, and a complete recital program. The entrant is asked to play only one movement of the prepared concerto, but he or she does not know which movement, until the moment of the actual audition. The concerto performance is very important in the School ... as the winner plays with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra (not the Eastman Orchestra). Then the solo recital is scheduled for another time during the year. I wanted to audition for this during my junior year (which was somewhat unorthodox, because my transfer student status [that again] meant I was technically a 2nd year student, and not a third year student, which was the rule for Performer's Auditions. However, after much discussion among the faculty, I was allowed to audition as I wished - junior year, and play all the performances in my senior year. Does this sound convoluted? The problem was that I did not want to be REQUIRED to return to Eastman after I had graduated, to play those concerts!
Joe also auditioned at the same time, as did Dayna. All three of us passed our auditions with flying colors, as I recall, and so we would all be playing the following year with the Rochester Philharmonic. (So much for the concerns of the faculty that I would not be 'ready' to audition after only 2 years there). The concerto I chose was the Rachmaninoff First Piano Concerto, not an easy work, by any means. In addition, I would be accompanying Dayna on the piano in her solo recital - so also played in her audition.
My summer of that year was spent working in the Washington Trust Bank again (I did this every summer) and practicing for my concerto performance and solo recital. When I wasn't practicing the piano, I was picking strawberries and raspberries in my father's garden...and of course, eating them as well. When I just couldn't stand practicing the Bach Partita in E Minor, or the Chopin Ballade in Ab Major or the Rachmaninoff Concerto, I would listen to various Motown Artists . such as Dionne Warwick, Diana Ross and the Supremes, The Temptations, (the Jackson 5 hadn't arrived on the scene yet). And I would dance around the living room singing the songs at the top of my lungs. I recall being very embarrassed when my dad caught me doing this...so I pretended to be exercising. Fact is, I wasn't even aware that I was dancing around...was so immersed in the music.
And so, after the long train ride to Rochester again, I commenced my senior year....(am skipping ahead here.)
Something happened at the beginning of the season, which nearly derailed my scheduled performances. One morning as I got up from the piano, my knee gave out, causing me to fall to the floor. In doing so, the patella bone was chipped in my knee (the x-rays showed later). During the summer I had been playing tennis and fallen, dislocating my knee - the accident weakened the joint and essentially caused the subsequent fall at Eastman. After a visit to the University of Rochester Hospital, and a meeting with an orthopedic surgeon, it was decided that I needed to wear a hip to ankle cast for 8 weeks to allow the patella bone to heal, and then have knee surgery to anchor the joint. This was not good news, and certainly made my life much more complicated. The silver lining in all this was that the U. of Rochester Medical School had an outstanding orthopedic department, one of the best in the world. My doctor was a Scot with a wicked sense of humor who loved to tease his patients mercilessly, and I was no exception.
The most challenging aspect of this situation was learning to pedal with my LEFT foot! As you may or may not know, the right pedal (called the 'damper' pedal) is always operated with the right foot - - and the left pedal (called the 'une corde' or 'soft pedal') operated with the left foot. In my case, since I could not bend my right knee (the cast prevented that), I was obliged to use my left foot to operate the right pedal, and not use the left pedal at all (since I didn't have 3 feet!) This maneuver was extremely difficult to manage physically as it changed my entire posture --- my weight could not be distributed between two legs as only one could be used - the left one. TRICKY! Co-ordination between my two hands and NOW my left foot had to be relearned.and practiced....not easy at all.
There was another problem: the pianos for us music students were uprights, and the construction of these instruments is such that one needs to be able to bend one's leg....and of course, I could not. So I was given permission to practice on the concert grands in the classrooms or on the stage in Kilbourn Hall. This was an unexpected boon, and I was grateful that these pianos were made available to me, or I would not have been able to practice. My right leg had room to stretch out -- necessary with that cast. The secondary problem was the use of crutches....I had to learn to walk with those darn things...and sometimes had near accidents, tripping on them. I was lucky enough to have good friends who would carry my books and music to classes for me, so I could walk with the crutches.
The winters in Rochester are very severe - cold, snowy, and icy...this one was no exception. Often I took the bus to school - until a public transportation strike halted the bus services. Then I resorted to taxis, which were much more comfortable, but also quite expensive, so was obliged to ask my parents for extra money to pay for cabs. (I did not like asking them for more money, as Eastman was already expensive enough - - AND this provoked more questions from my mother...who, understandably concerned for me, was beginning to entertain the idea of my coming home...and withdrawing from school altogether. So I downplayed my infirmity as much as I could, without actually lying to her).
I do recall one particular day ---there had been an ice storm (famous in Rochester) which meant that EVERYTHING was covered in ice. After my classes I started to cross the wide street in front of the school to wait for a bus on the other side (the strike had finished by then). Not the wisest move, I soon discovered. For some reason, I was by myself, also not the brightest decision. Of course, the inevitable happened: I lost my footing, slipped. and fell down in the middle of the street. I could NOT get up, because I couldn't bend my right leg, and the crutches kept slipping on the ice. Fortunately there was no traffic at the time. SO I dragged myself across the street, to a large post, where I attempted to pull myself up to a standing position. However, the ice storm had covered the pole in ice and I could not get a grip on anything. Even with gloves on, there was no way I could pull myself up. So I just sat there on the icy street, exhausted, and started crying out of frustration. Fortunately two friends came by, (Joe and Gordon) and noticed my plight. They had a good laugh at my expense naturally, being guys, but they helped me up, and also assisted me onto the bus, which had just arrived. I was able to return to the dorm with no more mishaps ---until the dining room.
The very last incident occurred in the spring, and although, by this time the cast was finally off, I was obliged to wear a wooden brace to keep my leg straight and also to lend support. A group of my friends had gathered on the large lawn in front of the dorms to have a picnic --which Eastman was sponsoring. I was barefoot (BIG Mistake, but have always hated shoes) and carrying a plateful of food to the table where we were sitting. My trek to the table, was safely executed until I arrived. Then by chance I stepped on a BEE with my left foot (un-injured leg), and the sting immediately caused much pain. So I started hopping on my right foot and leg, which was still weak. The result was, of course, yet another fall, and again I could not get up. This was a cause for great hilarity and non-stop hysterical laughter, among my friends. Even Dayna could not restrain herself! The result was that I had to be carried into the dorm to the nurse's office - everyone still laughing. I, of course, was NOT amused, not at all. I don't know if any of you have ever walked on a bee-stung foot, but the pain is immense, let me tell you.
By graduation my leg was much stronger, and the 'bee stung' foot had also recovered, thank goodness. So I was able to walk unescorted, in the senior class processional and receive my diploma - which was conferred upon me 'With Distinction' because of my high grade point average. The much coveted "Performer's Certificate" was also awarded at the Graduation Ceremony.
I remember being absolutely and wildly happy that I had my first degree, and felt like I had climbed Mount Everest (mostly because of my leg incidents). I was looking forward to a little trip to New York City, and then driving with Dayna (who had a car, did I mention that?) to her family's home in Oklahoma. I knew that further adventures were ahead (I was scheduled to attend Indiana University in the fall for my master's degree), but for the moment, was just content to bask in the glow of being an 'Eastman Graduate.' Definitely the first part of the 'long and winding road' had concluded...with many falls included in the saga! To this day my penchant for falling down at odd moments, has never abated, and as I was to discover, became even more habitual. Why knows why? Certainly not I, nor any physician either. It became a 'standing' joke -- if I were not busy practicing or performing, then I was falling down somewhere! And although I need to be more careful as I get older, am happy to say I am still standing --- as it were!!!!
