It is a sign I have seen in front of my house only once before, in 2012, when I retired from the Boston Symphony and my wife and I sold our home in Lexington, Massachusetts. The sign tells a much larger story than its single word. But at the fundamental level, a SOLD sign means we are on the move again.
In 2010, we purchased a beautiful home in the Estrella community of Goodyear, Arizona. We knew that someday we would want to live in the southwest and that someday came in May 2012 when we left Massachusetts and moved into our home. We’ve enjoyed six years in this beautiful place. I have had a music room that I could only dream about, a place to play trombone, read, and write.
But today all of this is going away and we are moving to a new place. United Van Lines pulled up to our home yesterday and our driver, Amerigo, and his assistant, Justin, spent the afternoon taking inventory of our belongings. Today they returned, with three more men, and they are at work right now packing up a huge van with everything we own.
I have great respect for people and the work they do. Everyone does something. I play the trombone. Others pack up houses. To see Americo and his crew at work is to see people who have strength, knowledge, understanding, and creativity. It is not easy to fit 500 boxes, pieces of furniture, and other items into a rectangular truck. And get everything safely to a new destination. But as I watch them carefully wrap furniture and systematically fit things into the truck, I have to smile. These guys know what they are doing. They are, in their own way, artists.
In March, we made the big decision to leave Arizona and move to a western suburb of Chicago. Into a much smaller house. Back to winters of cold and snow. I confess that I never imagined we would leave Arizona, a place that we have loved in so many ways. But there was only one thing that could lead us to make this big decision.
Our grandchildren.
When we made the decision to purchase our home in Arizona in 2010, these two precious ones were not a part of our lives. But all of that changed a few years ago as first Hannah, and then Caleb, were born. As time has marched on, we have enjoyed many visits with them both here in Arizona and in Illinois where our oldest daughter and her family live. But several visits a year and daily FaceTime calls are not enough. Our hearts wanted more. After they visited us in March of this year for a week of Chicago Cubs baseball spring training, I turned to my wife, Pat, and dropped a big one: let’s leave Arizona and move to Illinois. I never imagined those words would come from my mouth. But it seemed that God was prompting us to do something radical, something completely unexpected but at the same time quite wonderful. At first I thought that we would consider moving near to our grandchildren at some undefined time in the future. That rapidly changed to considering doing “the snowbird thing” – living in Arizona in the winter and in Illinois in the summer. But when we ran the numbers, it just didn’t make good, prudent fiscal sense. And we concluded that if we were in Illinois for half the year, we’d miss so many things that happened there in the other half of the year. So in a short time – just a few weeks – we decided to purchase a home in Illinois just 10 minutes from Linda and her family. Since then we have done an extreme makeover of our new place and it will be ready for us when we arrive there in a few days.
So, here we go. Back to Illinois, near Wheaton, where Pat and I were undergraduates at Wheaton College in the early 1970s. Back to the land where I met my trombone teacher and mentor, Edward Kleinhammer (bass trombonist of the Chicago Symphony, 1940-1985). Most of all, we are heading to a place where we can be a bigger part of the lives of our precious grandchildren. Anyone who has grandchildren will surely appreciate what I am saying here.
Yes, I will miss Arizona. But we will be back. We have much more left to explore in the southwest. But no matter how much we love being here, we know that the old adage “family first” is true. We have no regrets about leaving; we are moving ahead, looking to the future with great anticipation.
This morning I watched the sun rise for the last time from the roof of our home. As it rose over the Estrella Mountains, I felt such gratitude to God for the opportunity to have lived here for the last six years. I have learned so much, and I will share some of that in future articles on The Last Trombone. By the end of the day today, our home in Arizona will be empty. Next Friday, Amerigo and his truck will pull up to our new home in Illinois and a few hours later, it will be full. Soon, the sound of the laughter of children will ring in its rooms. There are no words in the English language that mean more to me than, “I love you, grandpa. I love you, grandma.” That is why we are leaving Arizona. God is good.
by Douglas Yeo (August 2, 2018; revised November 13, 2024)
The name Joannès Rochut has been known to generations of trombone players around the world, thanks, in large part, to the three volumes of Vocalises of Marco Bordogni that he arranged for trombone. Published as Melodious Etudes for Trombone Selected from the Vocalises of Marco Bordogni, Rochut’s books were published in 1928 by Carl Fischer of New York City. The date is significant: it was during Rochut’s tenure as principal trombonist of the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1925-1930 that he published the books that made his name so famous to trombone players. Most players today are unaware that Rochut played in the Boston Symphony, and his tenure in Boston is part of a major article about Rochut I have written that will appear in the January 2025 issue of the International Trombone Association Journal.
Cover to the first edition of Volume 1 of Joannès Rochut, Melodious Etudes for Trombone, Selected from the Vocalises of Marco Bordogni (New York: Carl Fischer, 1928).
But if most players today are unaware of Rochut’s connection with Boston, those who first bought his Melodious Etudes certainly knew about it, since his affiliation with the orchestra was printed on the cover of the MelodiousEtudes. See the photo above of the cover of my first edition copy of Book I.
There is something about Rochut’s books that has puzzled many trombone players and scholars. Rochut transcribed and arranged 120 of Bordogni’s Vocalises. 118 of them have been identified in Bordogni’s works. But No. 1 of Rochut’s Book I and No. 73 in Book 2 have not been found in Bordogni’s oeuvre. So, who wrote these etudes?
Volume 1, etude 1 from Joannès Rochut, Melodious Etudes for Trombone, Selected from the Vocalises of Marco Bordogni (New York: Carl Fischer, 1928).
Some people have assumed that Rochut composed these etudes. No. 1 happens to be one of my favorite exercises in Book I and I, too, have puzzled over this, wondering who wrote it. [As an aside, note that Rochut’s first name is spelled “Joannès.” Unfortunately, Carl Fischer’s new edition of “the Rochut book” does not spell his name correctly, but that is a story for another time. . .]
A few months ago, the mystery solved itself. A needle in a haystack surfaced as I was doing research for one of the books I’m writing at this time. I had some correspondence with Gary Spolding about his planned edition of Bordogni for trumpet and we discussed “Rochut No. 1.” As a result of our conversation, I located a copy of 26 Etudes Techniques d’apres Bordogni by Louis Allard and Henri Couillaud.
The cover of Louis Allard and Henri Couillaud, 26 Etudes Techniques d’apres Bordogni (Paris: Buffet-Crampon, 1927).
Published in Paris in 1927 – a year before Rochut’s Melodious Etudes – Allard and Couillaud’s book contains original exercises in the style of Bordogni. And on page 12, exercise 11 is found:
Exercise 11 from Louis Allard and Henri Couillaud,26 Etudes Techniques d’apres Bordogni (Paris: Buffet-Crampon, 1927).
What is this? It is none other than “Rochut No. 1.” Except it’s not. It’s Allard and Couillaud’s No. 11. Allard and Couillaud were the chickens; Rochut was the egg.
Louis Allard and Henri Couillaud were trombone professors at the Paris Conservatoire; Allard from 1888-1925 and Couillaud from 1925-1948. Rochut studied with Allard at the Conservatoire; in fact, Rochut won the first prize in trombone there in 1905, playing Sigismond Stojowski’s Fantasie.
We find a similar situation with Rochut’s No. 73. It wasn’t written by Bordogni. It was also written by Allard and Couillaud, and it’s found in the same book. Here’s Rochut’s No. 73:
Volume 2, etude 73 from Joannès Rochut, Melodious Etudes for Trombone, Selected from the Vocalises of Marco Bordogni (New York: Carl Fischer, 1928).
And here’s what Allard and Couillaud wrote a year before Rochut published his book of Bordogni etudes:
Etude 14 from Louis Allard and Henri Couillaud, 26 Etudes Techniques d’apres Bordogni (Paris: Buffet-Crampon, 1927)
So here we have a situation. Rochut’s Nos. 1 and 73 were published in 1928. Allard and Couillaud’s Nos. 11 and 14 were published in 1927. Clearly authorship of the etudes points to Allard and Couillaud (1927), not Rochut (1928). And certainly they were not written by Bordogni. Which begs the question: why did Rochut include these etudes by Allard and Couillaud in his books when they had been published in another book (in France) the year before? Was he paying tribute to his teacher? If so, why did he not credit Allard and Couillaud as the composers? Did Rochut (and Carl Fischer) pay royalties to Allard and Couillaud (the Carl Fischer edition gives no credit to another publisher for their printing of No. 1 and No. 73)? Or did Rochut assume the etudes were by Bordogni; perhaps he just missed the “après” in Allard and Couillaud’s book title? [Après means “after,” as in “after Bordogni,” or “in the style of Bordogni.”] Why did Rochut omit two of Bordogni’s etudes? What was the response of Allard and Couillaud (and their publisher) when they saw their etudes reprinted in Rochut’s book. Allard and Couillaud’s book is forgotten; Rochut’s book continues to be one of the best selling trombone books—if not THE best selling trombone books—of all time.
Spend a few minutes with Allard and Couillaud’s printing of their etudes, above; there are some significant differences between them in their book and the way they were reprinted in Rochut’s book (including tempo, dynamic, a different note, and phrasing, as well as the repeat).
Now, the hunt is on to find Allard and Couillaud’s original piano accompaniment to their etudes in the style of Bordogni. Another haystack; another needle to be found.
But wait, there’s more! What are the two etudes by Bordogni that Rochut left out of his book? Several editors of editions of Bordogni vocalises for brass instruments have figured out what should be in place of etude No. 1 in Rochut’s book. Etude 1 from Bordogni’s publication, 24 Vocalises (Livre 11) is missing from Rochut’s book. Here is Bordogni’s etude; click HERE to download a PDF of this etude:
Etude 1 from Marco Bordogni, 24 Vocalises (Livre 11).
Benny Sluchin got this right back in 1987 when he published his first volume of what was planned to be an edition of the complete Bordogni for trombone (the publisher, Tezak, ultimately did not follow through and publish the complete series of etudes):
Etude 1 from Benny Sluchin, Giulio Marco Bordogni (1788-1856): The Complete Book of Vocalises, Vol. 1 (Leverkusen: Mark Tezak Verlag, 1987).
You will also find this etude correctly included in Michael Mulcahy’s book, Giulio Marco Bordogni: Complete Vocalises for Trombone (Encore Music Publishers, 2008):
Etude 1 from Marco Bordogni, ed. Michael Mulcahy, Giulio Marco Bordogni: Complete Vocalises for Trombone (Encore Music Publishers, 2008).
As for No. 73 in Rochut’s book (and Michael Mulcahy’s book), here is the missing Bordogni etude that should be there. It is etude 7 from Bordogni’s 36 Vocalises (Livre 1); click HERE to download a PDF of this etude:
Etude 7 from Marco Bordogni, 36 Vocalises (Livre 1).
Print out these two etudes by Bordogni and slip them in your copy of Rochut’s book and you will then have “the complete Bordogni.” That said, the two etudes by Allard and Couillaud that Rochut included in his books are superb. We just don’t know why Rochut included them. Happily, we now we have something more to practice.
[Photo at the top of this article: Joannès Rochut (standing) with his Lefevre trombone, and Georg Wendler (seated, horn), 1926. Detail from a photo of the Boston Symphony Orchestra brass section, 1925, courtesy of the Boston Symphony Orchestra Archives.]
I don’t think I could possibly count all of the times during my long career when I have traveled to schools, colleges, and universities to do some teaching or performing, or attended trombone festivals or symposiums as a guest artist. It would certainly number in the hundreds throughout the United States, Canada, South American, Europe, Africa, and Asia. I have always enjoyed working with trombone players around the world and I recently returned from a week in Japan where I was the guest artist for the Second Nagoya Trombone Festival.
As I mentioned in my earlier post about the Festival — made before the trip — I have been to Japan twelve or thirteen times. I’ve lost count. Many of these trips were tours with the Boston Symphony (conducted by Seiji Ozawa) or Boston Pops Orchestras (conducted by John Williams), and other times were to teach and perform at the Hamamatsu International Wind Instrument Academy and Festival. The First Nagoya Trombone Festival, hosted by the Nagoya Trombone Association, was held in 2016 and Jörgen van Rijen, principal trombonist of the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra in Amsterdam, was the guest artist. I was very honored to be asked to come as guest artist for this, the Second Nagoya Trombone Festival, held on May 5-6, 2018..
Here are a few reflections about my time in Nagoya, a time that was very special to me in many ways.
Before the Festival began, I spent an afternoon teaching at Aichi Prefectural University in Nagoya. The University’s trombone professor is Hiroshi Kurata (about whom I recently wrote on The Last Trombone), and it is the undergraduate alma mater of Nozomi Kasano Flatt, bass trombonist of the Japan Century Orchestra in Osaka. I met Nozomi in 2004 when she was a student in my class at the Hamamatsu Academy and Festival and she subsequently came to Boston to study with me; she earned a Graduate Diploma and a Master of Music degree at New England Conservatory of Music. It was a special joy for me to have Nozomi as my translator in Nagoya, both during my masterclass at the University and also at the Festival. The photo above shows the students with whom I worked at the University, with Professor Hiroshi Kurata on the left and Nozomi Kasano Flatt on the right.
I worked with several students who played solos, and also with an orchestra trombone section. The level of talent at the University was very high as was the level of attention of the audience members. I ended my teaching sessions with a lengthy question and answer period where several students asked engaging questions about a life in music. Kurata San was kind enough to take Nozomi and me to dinner at the finest sushi restaurant I have ever enjoyed – a small restaurant with just a handful of seats and a private chef; it was a memorable experience in so many ways. A few years ago I saw the documentary “Jiro Dreams of Sushi.” Never did I even dream that I would have a culinary experience of the quality shown in that movie. But I did, thanks to Kurata San. The photo above shows a piece of sushi as a work of art. It is impossible to describe but something I will never, ever forget.
The Nagoya Trombone Association organized the Nagoya Trombone Festival and among the many people who worked hard to put it all together was my host, Hiroshi Tanaka (shown above with me after the Festival’s final concert along with the announcer for the concert).
Tanaka San had engaged a superb pianist for my recital, Shoko Gamo (shown above with me after a rehearsal) and we enjoyed a very, very fruitful collaboration. I have rarely worked with a pianist who possessed such tremendous abilities as well as a very deep, emotional side to her musical personality. And a very nice person, too!
The festival took place over two days. I gave a masterclass on the first day, working again with some very talented students. The photo above shows me working with a student; Nozomi Kasano Flatt is translating for me.
In addition, I gave a lecture on the history of the trombone — in 50 minutes! This was a whirlwind for sure, with nearly 100 Powerpoint slides in my presentation and Nozomi working hard to keep up with my pace. She did a great job. One of the great things about her translation skill is that she captures the character of my spoken personality. This does not happen all the time when I need a translator and it really helped those in attendance understand what I was talking about. I have rarely given a lecture for such an attentive, engaged audience. In the photo above, I have just told the audience that I was going to do the impossible — talk about 500 years of the trombone’s history in a very short time. This image from the movie Home Alone captured my feelings about the impossibility of the task!
The Festival also had a number of instrument companies present so participants could try out different trombones. It was great for me to see friends from YAMAHA who were present at the Festival. YAMAHA has been so great to me over the years and our relationship goes back over three decades, to 1986. In the photo above are Ken Takei, Naoki Suzuki, me (with my YAMAHA YBL-822G bass trombone), and Michio Ohse.
Before I headed to the Festival on the second day, I took a long walk to Nagoya Castle, one of the great castles of Japan. I have been to Nagoya once before, on a Boston Pops Orchestra tour, but it was nice to get to the Castle, something I had read about but had never visited previously. It is a very special, majestic, peaceful place.
Day Two of the festival included my giving a recital. My program was an eclectic mix of repertoire:
Widmung — Robert Schumann, transcribed by Douglas Yeo
Sutenaide Kudasai — Jan Kaňka
Sonata No. 6 from 18 Canons Mélodieux — George Philipp Telemann, arr. Douglas Yeo
Sonata for Bass Trombone and Piano — Alec Wilder
Canzone — Girolamo Frescobaldi, arr. Eddie Koopman
Sonata for Alto Horn and Piano — Paul Hindemith
Sång till Lotta — Jan Sandström
Each piece had a particular reason for being on the program.
In recent years, I have always begun recitals with Schumann’s great paean of love to his wife, Clara, Widmung. It always reminds me of my wife, especially when I am far away from home. I also like to give my accompanist a superb piece of art music to play on my recitals and this piece certainly fits the bill. Shoko was very happy to play Schumann’s beautiful song; she told me she often plays it in the arrangement for solo piano by Franz Liszt. Her playing was spectacular.
Several years ago, I became aware of the work of Czech composer Jan Kaňka. A trombonist himself, I found his Sutenaide Kudasai (the title is in Japanese and is roughly translated, “Please don’t throw it away”) to be very engaging and I thought the Nagoya Trombone Festival was a great place for me to perform it for the first time.
I was then joined by Nozomi Kasano Flatt for one of Telemann’s remarkable canons, a piece that I had arranged for my book published by G. Schirmer, Trombone Essentials, and that I also recorded with Gerry Pagano on our new compact disc, Fratres. Playing a duet with Nozomi on my recital was very important to me and it was an absolute joy to collaborate with her on my recital.
I wanted to perform a piece by an American composer and I chose Alec Wilder’s Sonata for Bass Trombone, a piece that for many years was the most frequently performed piece ever written for bass trombone. Over the years, I have written several articles about the Sonata for the International Trombone Association Journal and in a serendipitous convergence of events, I had just recently happened to meet Russ Schultz, who as a student of Emory Remington at Eastman School of Music gave the world premiere of Wilder’s Sonata on March 24, 1969. The photo above shows Russ and me in a diner in Fort Worth, Texas two weeks before I went to Japan; it was great to finally meet him and then play the Wilder Sonata in Nagoya.
I then turned to Eddie Koopman’s arrangement of the first Canzone by Girolamo Frescobaldi, in a version with pre-recorded accompaniment. For this performance, I used a buccin — a dragon bell trombone used in France and Belgium in the early nineteenth century. I love playing historical instruments and the buccin is the coolest kind of trombone. This particular buccin (photo above) is a one-of-a-kind instrument that was made by YAMAHA; it is a fantastic instrument with a great, unique sound. Eddie Koopman’s techno-pop-Rennaisance accompaniment brought this old piece and instrument right into the twenty-first century.
The other major work on the program was Paul Hindemith’s Sonata for Alto Horn and Piano. It is the least performed of Hindemith’s Sonatas and it works very well for bass trombone, transcribed down an octave. Shoko Gamo had a fiendishly difficult part that she performed with superb technique and style. The Sonata also has a poem by Hindemith, The Posthorn, that the composer requires the soloist and accompanist to recite before the last movement. While Hindemith’s poem is in German and English, I wanted to recite it in Japanese. I asked my good friend, Megumi Kanda, principal trombonist of the Milwaukee Symphony, if she would translate it for me so Shoko and I could read it during the recital. I read the first part of the poem and Shoko read the second part. I practiced this very hard! The audience was very supportive in my reciting this in Japanese — people told me they actually understood what I was saying!
Finally, I ended with Jan Sandström’s beautiful song, Song for Lotta. For many years I have ended recitals with this beautiful piece, slow and soft, very emotional, and different than the kind of loud piece that people usually play as a final piece. Shoko’s playing was exceptionally sensitive and the audience responded with great enthusiasm and warmth.
At the end of the recital there were flowers and congratulations all around. But there was more to come.
One of the great things about the Festival was seeing so many former students who had been part of my class over the years at the Hamamatsu Academy and Festival. Here I am (above) with several of them — and there were others, too. It was great to see them and talk about their progress and successes since we had last met.
The Festival ended with a gala concert that featured members of the Nagoya Trombone Association’s organizing committee trombone ensemble. I performed as soloist in John Stevens’ The Chief, dedicated to Emory Remington (above),
and I also conducted the ensemble in Stephen Bulla’s arrangement of Londonderry Air (above).
The concert concluded with all of the Festival’s participants coming on stage for a performance of two pieces: Steven Verhelst’s A Song for Japan (above), especially arranged for this concert, and Tommy Pederson’s arrangement of 76 Trombones. What a sound! And what great playing from all of the players, from students to players who were older than me.
Here is a video of my performance of The Chief, and also of A Song for Japan. I hope it will give you a sense of the great music making we all heard from so many people at the Festival (to view this video on YouTube, click HERE):
Following the concert, we had a group photo. And then another, with everyone raising a hand and shouting:
The word isn’t really translatable into English, but it captures the joy of a job well done — with great enthusiasm. It was a word that was used throughout the festival — always with a big smile.
We followed the concert with a reception — food and games and prizes, and each participant went home with a little bag of chocolates that had been designed by Shiori Tanaka, Hiroshi Tanaka’s wife who is also a very fine percussionist. This was the first time I’d ever seen my photo on a piece of chocolate — I guess there is a first time for everything!
I left Nagoya the following day with a feeling of deep satisfaction. I made many new friends and met many old friends. To Hiroshi Kurata (below),
and Hiroshi Tanaka (below, as we enjoyed some traditional Nagoya kishimen at the airport just before I returned home), you have my deepest, sincerest thanks. Thank you for hosting me at the University and at the Festival, and for becoming new friends. Making music with you and your students and colleagues was a great, great pleasure.
And to Nozomi Kasano Flatt,
I cannot say “thank you” enough times. She was a tremendous help to me in so many ways, and I am so proud of her and her success.
The trombone brings people together around the world and I am a very fortunate person to have been to Japan so many times to engage with interested and interesting players and teachers who have taught me far more than I could possibly offer to them. Thank you, Nagoya Trombone Association. I hope we can work together again soon. The International Trombone Festival may be in Japan in 2020 — the Olympic year — and it would be the first time the ITF would be held in Asia. I hope that happens; it would be great for Japan, for Asia, for the trombone.
One thing is very clear to me: Nagoya is a place for the trombone. I am fortunate to have been part of its most recent Trombone Festival, and to feel a new kinship with this great city in Japan.
Tomorrow is Memorial Day in the United States. Observed annually on May 30 from its establishment in 1868 until 1970, it is now observed on the last Monday in May.
Memorial Day is a national day of remembrance for the men and women who have died while serving in the United States’ Armed Forces. For most people, it’s a holiday, part of a three day weekend, the unofficial beginning of summer. But it is important that we consider that the cliche—Freedom isn’t free—is actually true. Were it not for those who serve and have served in our armed forces, and for many of those who made the ultimate sacrifice and died in while serving, we here in the United States would not enjoy the freedoms we have today. Those freedoms are protected each day by those who, in the words of our national song, America the Beautiful, “more than self their country loved.” We honor them on this Memorial Day.
I have great respect for the men and women who serve in the United States military, who daily work to preserve the freedoms we have. I am proud that my father, Alan Yeo (1930-2016), shown in the photo above, served in the United States Army from 1953-1955, in the days following the end of the Korean conflict. My father was stationed at Fort Ord, Monterey, California, as part of the 6th Infantry Division. I was born in May 1955, just before his discharge from the Army. My dad never went to Korea; never left U.S. soil. But he answered the call and served, and played his part along with countless others who have done the same.
Through my many years of teaching, I have been privileged to be the trombone teacher of many students who have subsequently gone on to serve in the U.S. military. At the moment, I have three former students on active duty, all in the United States Navy: Zachary Hollister (Bachelor of Music, New England Conservatory of Music; bass trombonist, U.S. Navy Band, Washington, D.C.), Ryan Miller (Master of Music, Arizona State University; trombonist, U.S. Navy Fleet Forces Band, Norfolk, Virginia), and Timothy Hutchens (Doctor of Musical Arts, Arizona State University; trombonist, U.S. Navy Band Southwest, San Diego) all are serving our country with a trombone in their hands as members of some of our military’s finest bands. I am honored to have been their teacher, and respect and thank them for their service.
The Last Trombone – Douglas Yeo 