Each of us has had a teacher, mentor or instructor that has made either a positive or negative impression. This person could have been someone that inspired you, challenged you, or entertained you. Or, perhaps it was a person that was irksome, quarrelsome, or tedious. One way or another, this person had a unique character or quality that made an impression on you that you remember to this day. One of the most enjoyable instructors in the Northern Illinois University Music department was an elderly Introduction to Conducting instructor named Dr. Eleanor Tipton.
Dr. Tipton was a published author of children’s music education, music appreciation books and courses back in the 1950’s and 60’s. She was also a regionally renowned choral conductor, and also taught Music Education to the Music Education majors at NIU.
Dr. Tipton was best described as an eccentric. She was a woman small in stature but big in presence. When she walked into a classroom her presence immediately commanded respect. She was always immaculately dressed and had amazing posture – straight as a board and as unbending as one. She would stride up to the front podium and start to speak – and you’d better listen. She had a unique speaking voice and would look at us over the top of her glasses. She would point at us using her famous two-fingered point. She also had a great knack of mispronouncing last names from the simplest to the more complex. Yet in a classroom full of Hofflanders, Schwalls, Halgimsons and Tedescos she somehow got my name right.
I should have known that her class would be interesting on the very first day. After a half hour lecture on the importance of choral music in high school she strode over to the stereo, puts an album on the turntable (remember, this is pre-CDs), face the class and with her baton conduct to the record, nodding and grinning the whole time. We were speechless. How difficult was it to conduct to a record? It was always the same tempo, same dynamics, and same performance. Then as the class progressed we conducted in front of the class to a different album while being berated from the back of the classroom by Dr. Tipton for bad posture, unclear beat patterns, and having no charisma in front of the class.
Dr. Tipton provided us with an endless variety of ammunition. One time she lectured for a half-hour about having charisma in front of a choir. While she lectured she would conduct an imaginary choir or orchestra – there was no music playing. She would pronounce the word kah-REEEEES-mah and would continue to talk about kah-REEEEES-mah. She would say, “In order to command respect and attention you must have ‘kah-REEEEES-mah’ in order to get the desired results” We enjoyed that for weeks. Another time she came in after an obviously bad night and told us, “There’s a mouse in my apartment. Mm-hmm yes… It somehow got into my grand piano. Ping ping ping all night long.” That gave us entertainment for months.
Our class was mostly vocal majors and somehow we actually had a good mix of sopranos, altos, tenors and basses. Dr. Tipton was like a little girl in a candy store. She had us sight reading music while she conducted, pointing out her good posture, her 90 degree arm angle, her clear and concise beat patterns, and at the same time yelling out her expectations like an army drill sargeant.
THEN – we got to conduct the class. Terror set in. We each received a different piece of music to conduct and each of us was subjected to the same treatment – bad. “Mr. Paswinski I can’t follow your beat pattern. Mr. Paswinski you just beat a 3 beat pattern in a 4 beat measure. Mr. Paswinski I don’t know what you are trying to have the choir sing. Be clear!” Mr. Paswinski this and Mr. Paswinski that and by the end of class I wanted to change my last name to Smith.
Yet through it all I learned a great deal about conducting from Dr. Tipton (despite the "different" experiences). I could see why she was named the “Illinois Top Music Educator” several years in a row. It was her single-minded passion for music that transferred over to us and inspired us to be the best conductors possible.
It is these types of instructors that made a lasting impression, not the lecturing machines, the droning lifeless teachers, the uninspiring lecture halls. Sometimes it good to have a mentor or teacher with “kah-REEEEES-mah” that makes your learning experience a memorable one.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
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New Years Day - a good start and a bad meal
I am probably about 10 years behind the times. I mean, who actually reads these things anyway? But as part of my mission for self-improvement, self-edification and such, I decided to give blogging a try. Even if no one reads it, I will be doing more with expressing myself.
There is nothing more embarrassing to me than cooking. I stink at it. I have been trying more and more to get creative and exciting, but the results resemble a bad science fair project. CASE IN POINT -- New Year's day dinner.
I live with a Southerner; Billy was born and raised in Mississippi. Each year during the holidays we try to bring in some traditions from our past that make the holidays more special. Therefore, I have learned to cook and eat black-eyed peas and cornbread, while Billy has learned to tolerate sauerkraut. So on New Years morning I got the black-eyed peas with the ham bone going in the crockpot (after giving the peas a good long soak,) got the sauerkraut heating on the stove, and... started to prep a pork loin. Now mind you, I have never had done a pork loin, so I figured... follow directions, use a good rub and cook low and slow. Low and slow... I have tried my best to shake off the shackles of my 1960's upbringing that said, "Pork must be cooked all the way through, no pink." Oven set at 325 degrees, the pork rub lovingly applied and massaged into the meat, and placed in the oven.
And then promptly forgot what I was cooking.
Therefore, when the oven temp got raised to 400 degrees about 15 minutes before the meat came out to bake the cornbread, well.... you can imagine the result. We were able to salvage some of the pork from the center of the cut, but the tips... not so much. We wrapped the destroyed meat in aluminum foil and, after saying a few proper yet unprintable words, desposed of the meat and cleaned up the crime scene.
Yes, yet another disaster. I sit and watch Food Network, marvelling at the delicious-looking roasts, loins and chops be prepared by master chefs,, and I think to myself......
Next year... chicken.
There is nothing more embarrassing to me than cooking. I stink at it. I have been trying more and more to get creative and exciting, but the results resemble a bad science fair project. CASE IN POINT -- New Year's day dinner.
I live with a Southerner; Billy was born and raised in Mississippi. Each year during the holidays we try to bring in some traditions from our past that make the holidays more special. Therefore, I have learned to cook and eat black-eyed peas and cornbread, while Billy has learned to tolerate sauerkraut. So on New Years morning I got the black-eyed peas with the ham bone going in the crockpot (after giving the peas a good long soak,) got the sauerkraut heating on the stove, and... started to prep a pork loin. Now mind you, I have never had done a pork loin, so I figured... follow directions, use a good rub and cook low and slow. Low and slow... I have tried my best to shake off the shackles of my 1960's upbringing that said, "Pork must be cooked all the way through, no pink." Oven set at 325 degrees, the pork rub lovingly applied and massaged into the meat, and placed in the oven.
And then promptly forgot what I was cooking.
Therefore, when the oven temp got raised to 400 degrees about 15 minutes before the meat came out to bake the cornbread, well.... you can imagine the result. We were able to salvage some of the pork from the center of the cut, but the tips... not so much. We wrapped the destroyed meat in aluminum foil and, after saying a few proper yet unprintable words, desposed of the meat and cleaned up the crime scene.
Yes, yet another disaster. I sit and watch Food Network, marvelling at the delicious-looking roasts, loins and chops be prepared by master chefs,, and I think to myself......
Next year... chicken.
I'm grinning like a loon!
ReplyDeleteHow difficult was "Olsen" to pronounce? Yet I was "Miss Owens" for the duration of the class. And I will never ever forget Sue's dead-on impersonation of her, and scratching her head with the baton as we howled in hysterics.