When I was at work on my book about Homer Rodeheaver (Kevin Mungons and Douglas Yeo, Homer Rodeheaver and the Rise of the Gospel Music Industry, Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2021)— Rodeheaver was the trombone-playing song leader for the Christian evangelist Billy Sunday in the first third of the 20th century—a side aspect to my research was an investigation into the work of many other trombonists who used their trombones to play sacred music and share the good news of the Gospel. There have been many of them. For instance, Cliff Barrows, who knew Rodeheaver well and who was the song leader for Billy Graham for many years, played the trombone:
Cliff and Billie Barrows with Billy Graham, c. 1948. Wheaton College Archives and Special Collections.
Others made recordings of gospel music with a trombone in hand, including Joe and Marion Talley (their name is misspelled on the cover of this album, below):
Joe and Marion Talley, In the Spotlight. WORD WST-8037 (1960)
. . . Marcy Tigner:
Marcy Tigner, Marcy Tigner Trombone, Christian Faith Recordings 351 (1961)
. . . Sam Salter:
Sam Saltar, Still Trusting Jesus, Glory Records GL-151
. . . Tom Dale:
Tom Dale, In Session, Sacred Manuscripts Record Productions AR-5005
Wycliffe Gordon, The Gospel Truth, Criss Cross Jazz 1192 (2000)
. . . and I have released albums of hymns, gospel songs, and spirituals.
Douglas Yeo, Cornerstone, Die letzte Posaune CD93175 (2000)
I’m at work on an article about “The Gospel Trombonist,” but with several other writing projects in the pipeline, that article won’t appear for a while. But the subject is on my mind because Christmas is around the corner, and the ubiquitous sound of Salvation Army bell ringers and brass players fills the air at shopping centers, supermarkets, and malls. The work of the Salvation Army to preach the Gospel and help the less fortunate—what Jesus Christ referred to as, “the least of these” (Matthew 25:45)—is well known. The Salvation Army’s motto is, “Doing the most good.” We should also remember that in addition to its religious and humanitarian work, the Salvation Army was also influential in the rise and influence of the brass band movement in England and around the world.
A little history: In 1878, William Booth’s Christian Revival Society—founded in the East End of London in 1865 and later called the Christian Mission—changed its name to The Salvation Army. In that same year, a brass quartet of two cornets, valve trombone and euphonium formed by itinerant preacher Charles Fry and his three sons began supporting outdoor meetings of the Salvation Army in Salisbury, England. Booth, who had long harbored ambivalence toward musical groups accompanying singing, quickly realized the value of an ensemble of brass instruments in helping to attract a crowd, and others would learn from this example. By the following year, organized brass bands had become an integral part of Salvation Army worship and evangelistic efforts.[1]
The Salvation Army has also published a tremendous amount of music for brass band, brass ensemble, and solo brass instruments, and it has released many recordings of its music, including the popular series with a jazz trombone ensemble, Spiritual to the Bone:
Spiritual to the Bone, Salvation Army USA South CRD018 (1993)
But there was someone who was first among the many high-profile, trombone-playing representatives of the Gospel message, and we do right to remember him.
Rev. Wilson Carlile, c. 1900
Into the environment of brass playing that was popularized by William Booth in England came Wilson Carlile (1847–1942).[2] Carlile was ordained a deacon in the Church of England in 1880 and served as a curate to the Vicar of Kensington. He began holding open-air evangelistic meetings in an effort to reach people who otherwise might not enter a church. Unlike William Booth–who broke from the Methodist Church to set up his own denomination–Carlile worked within the Church of England to overcome denominational resistance to his desire to be a missionary to the slums of London. In 1882, Carlile resigned his formal position with the Church of England and formed The Church Army, with himself at its head while he and The Church Army maintained close ties with the Church of England.
As a child, Carlile’s first musical instrument was a toy drum that he later put down in favor of the trombone. He admitted his trombone playing was less than accomplished, as when he related a story of an argument over his drum with one of his sisters that resulted in the instrument breaking and inflicting a deep wound on his hand:
I’m afraid that some of my friends today, persecuted by the trombone, wish my early musical talent had received an even sharper lesson.[2]
While the Salvation Army fully embraced the presence of brass instruments during their worship services, and by 1879 brass bands were being organized in many churches [3], Wilson Carlile was, at first, somewhat of an enigma to the Church of England. In an article from 1900 that was headlined, “Newest and Strangest Ally of the Dignified Old Church of England,” Curtis Brown reported the strange occurrence of a trombone in the pulpit in “the haughty old Church of England”:
That most dignified, serious and conservative of institutions, the Church of England, has taken into alliance a man with a trombone, who horrified the stately Bishops at first by carrying his instrument into his pulpit and playing it right lustily, too. . . .The man with the trombone typifies this queer army which is beginning to attract general attention. He has played that trombone in the streets, in saloons and in dance halls, and has had it pretty badly battered in many an encounter with toughs. He was laid up six months after one such fight, and he and his trombone had to be patched before they could get into line again.[4]
“Preachers in their Pulpits: The Rev. Wilson Carlile of the Church Army.” The Tatler, No. 109 (July 22, 1903)
The sight of Wilson Carlile marching around London in his clerical frock while playing his trombone achieved its desired effect. The parade of curiosity seekers that followed Carlile to St. Mary-at-Hill on London’s Love Lane experienced a church service like no other. As Homer Rodeheaver was to do later, Carlile adopted the “magic lantern,” an early form of projector that displayed large images on a large white sheet above the church’s altar. These projections were, in the main, of Biblical characters and scenes, but Carlile also engaged in social commentary, showing the contrast between slum life and the “palaces of the rich.” Carlile also employed a large phonograph during services, a “monsterphone,” from which which emanated sermons by other preachers including the Archbishop of Canterbury as well as an occasional Sousa march.[5] “This,” Carlile’s biographer wrote, “had the effect of driving away all orthodox people in horror, and attracting the loafers from the street, who warmly supported the new form of service long before it received a friendly smile from the Bishops.”[6] Carlile’s message of the Gospel changed lives.
Wilson Carlile. From: Edgar Rowan, Wilson Carlile and the Church Army (London: The Church Army Bookroom, 3rd edition, 1926)
Newspapers across the United States ran articles about Carlile and his unconventional evangelistic outreach. The Louisville Courier-Journal devoted an entire page to the “Man with the Trombone and His Great Army: Newest and Strangest Ally of the Dignified Old Church of England.” [7] The Chicago Daily Tribune painted a vivid picture of Carlile’s use of the trombone as a tool for reaching audiences with his evangelistic message:
The real power of the man behind the trombone is illustrated in the career of the Rev. Wilson Carlile of England, the head of the Church Army. He began his career with a broken-winded harmonium, but he soon found that to reach the masses he must have a trombone. For eight years he has blown that trombone. He has blown it in streets, saloons, and dance halls, and has horrified the stately Bishops by sounding its sonorous blasts in the pulpit. Occasionally the roughs of London have objected to his music, and then he and his trombone have been laid up for repairs, both badly battered. . . . The man with the trombone is an indefatigable worker. . . . He plays on his trombone. He exhorts. He sings. He makes things generally lively in the pulpit. He gathers his audience for the night service by marshaling his band and choir, which he heads with his trusty trombone, and makes a procession through the streets near his church, blowing lustily. The crowd follows him. At each saloon the march halts, while the trombone man drags out three or four habitués who join the procession. When he gets back and sounds the first blast in his pulpit, the church is packed. . . .
All this is the work of the man behind the trombone, and for the possibilities that lie in that much-maligned instrument let all trombone players be respected. They are not as bad as they look. In the hands of a man truly great the trombone is more powerful than the sword.[7]
Wilson Carlile. From: A. E. Reffold: The Audacity to Live: A Résumé of the Life and Work of Wilson Carlile (London: Marshall, Morgan, & Scott, 1936)
Now, as Christmas approaches and the sound of brass instruments is in the air, we look at Wilson Carlile—and many others—who joyfully brought—and bring—the Gospel message of hope and good news to a hurting world with a trombone in hand, a message that came to us 2000 years ago in a manger in Bethlehem, to change lives and bring true, lasting peace (Luke 2:14).
• • •
NOTE: Here follows the full text of the article about Wilson Carlile that was referenced above, “The Man Behind the Trombone,” from the Chicago Daily Tribune, March 4, 1900. Notes for this blog post about are found at the end of the Chicago Daily Tribune article.
[1] Ronald W. Holz, Brass Bands of the Salvation Army: Their Mission and Music. Volume 1 (Stotfold, Herts.: Street Publishers, 2006), 63–74.
[2] Edgar Rowan, Wilson Carlile and the Church Army, 3rd ed. (London: Church Army Bookroom, 1926), 5.
[3] Ronald W. Holz, Brass Bands of the Salvation Army: Their Mission and Music. Volume 1, 69.
[4] Curtis Brown, “Man With the Trombone and His Great Army: Newest and Strangest Ally of the Dignified Old Church of England,” The Courier-Journal (Louisville, Kentucky), February 25, 1900.
[5] Stephen Bottomore, “Projecting for the Lord: The Work of Wilson Carlile,” Film History, Vol. 14, No. 2, Film and Religion (2002), 199-200.
[6] Edgar Rowan, Wilson Carlile and The Church Army, 60.
[7] “The Man Behind the Trombone,” Chicago Daily Tribune, March 4, 1900.
Seiji Ozawa hired me into the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 1985. At age 29, I joined the BSO for a career that extended until 2012, 27 years of memorable music making and other wonderful experiences. Seiji was music director of the BSO from 1973 to 2002, and his death brings back unforgettable memories of the intersection of our lives. Here is the Seiji Ozawa I knew and will always remember.
Wheaton College Artist Series program, Boston Symphony Orchestra, April 10, 1975
I first met Seiji Ozawa in April 1975 while I was a student at Wheaton College, Illinois. The college had an artist series of eight concerts each year and the Boston Symphony Orchestra came to give a performance in Edman Memorial Chapel. I had been tapped to be student manager of the artist series for my senior year at Wheaton, 1975-1976, so, being groomed for that position the season before, I had backstage access to the BSO concert. I was wowed that I got to see and hear the Boston Symphony Orchestra up close. Even though I was studying trombone with Edward Kleinhammer, the great bass trombonist of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra from 1940-1985, and the CSO was front and center in my orchestral universe, I had always loved the Boston Symphony Orchestra. In fact, in my high school yearbook (1973), in that pretentious paragraph seniors get to write about themselves with our favorite inspirational quotations and our hopes and dreams for the future, I wrote, “I want to play in the Boston Symphony Orchestra.”
Chicago Symphony Orchestra recording of Janéček Sinfonietta and Lutoslawski Concerto for Orchestra with Seiji Ozawa, conductor. Angel S-36045; recorded 1970.
I met the orchestra’s trombone section: William Gibson, Ronald Barron, and Gordon Hallberg. And I met Seiji Ozawa. I brought a record for him to autograph which he graciously did (above). Today I look back and shake my head: I asked him to sign a recording he made with the Chicago Symphony (Seiji had been music director of the Ravinia Festival, summer home of the CSO), not the Boston Symphony! But he was kind to sign the record jacket for me and I still have that LP; it is a treasure. At the concert, held the door to the stage open a little bit when the BSO’s principal trumpet player, Armando Ghitalla, played the offstage trumpet solo to Beethoven’s Leonore Overture No. 3. The whole experience was unforgettable. Little did I know that 10 years later, I would be sitting on stage with many of those same Boston Symphony players with Seiji conducting me.
Advertisement in the International Musician for the Boston Symphony Orchestra bass trombone position, 1984.
After graduation from Wheaton College in 1976, my wife and I moved to New York City where she completed her nursing degree at Columbia University and I freelanced, worked a secretarial job to pay the bills, and got my master’s degree at New York University. After two years as a high school band director from 1979-1981, I joined the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. And it was at intermission of a Baltimore Symphony rehearsal in 1983 that Joseph Silverstein, who, at that time, was both concertmaster of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and principal guest conductor of the Baltimore Symphony, came up to me at the break in a rehearsal. He said he liked my playing, and he wanted me to know that the Boston Symphony Orchestra would be having an audition for a bass trombonist. Soon. Sure enough, a few months later, the International Musician, the monthly publication of the American Federation of Musicians, ran an advertisement for the position (above). Of course I had to take that audition. I was very happy in the Baltimore Symphony, but the Boston Symphony? Boston?? I got ready for the audition.
I submitted my resume and a few weeks later, I was asked to make a pre-screening audition tape. I had taken a number of auditions by that time and this was the first time I was asked to make a pre-screening tape. So I did. You can hear my Boston Symphony audition tape HERE. I did not find out until many months later that the orchestra had received 88 pre-screen tapes for the audition and they had accepted only one: mine. Joining me at the audition were about a dozen other fine bass trombonists who had positions in other major American symphony orchestras. They were invited directly to the live rounds of the audition without having to make a pre-screening tape.
Boston Symphony Orchestra low brass section, Mahler Symphony No. 2, Tanglewood, August 1984. Ronald Barron, Norman Bolter, Lamar Jones, Douglas Yeo, Chester Schmitz (tuba).
The audition was held in Spring 1984 and at the end of the day, I was the last candidate standing. But I was not offered the position. Seiji told me he liked my playing very much but he would like me to make some small changes to my sound and approach. There would be another audition later in the year but in the meantime, he asked me to come to Tanglewood, the summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, to play two weeks of concerts, then go to Europe with the BSO for three weeks, and then return to Boston to make a recording of Richard Strauss’ Don Quixote with Yo-Yo Ma as soloist. I was thrilled to accept the offer of weeks to play with the BSO. Those weeks at Tanglewood, in Europe, and in Boston were unforgettable. Symphony No. 2 of Gustav Mahler with Jessye Norman as soloist, Don Quixote and the Dvorak Cello Concerto with Yo-Yo. Dvorak Symphony No. 9 and Shostakovich Symphony No. 10, and more.
Boston Symphony Orchestra, Seiji Ozawa, conducting. Performance of Shostakovich Symphony No. 10, Berlin Philharmonie, September 1984. Trombones in the back row, right, are Ronald Barron, Carl Lenthe (substitute), Douglas Yeo, bass.
I returned home to Baltimore and at a second audition in December 1984, I won the bass trombone position with the Boston Symphony Orchestra and began my tenure there in May 1985.
Thus began my remarkable adventure as a member of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. It was electrifying to sit under Seiji’s baton. Yes, we all called him Seiji. Not maestro, not Mr. Ozawa. Seiji saw the BSO as a family. He cared deeply about the orchestra, the institution, its history, and its members. Seiji was so much more than a superb musician. He cared. He cared so much about so many things. And he loved Boston. Unlike so many music directors today, Seiji was deeply involved in the city of Boston, and Tanglewood was his happy place.
Boston Symphony Orchestra, Seiji Ozawa conducting. Program for opening night at Tanglewood, June 28, 1985.
My first opening night concert with the Boston Symphony Orchestra was at Tanglewood, June 28, 1985. Seiji conducted an all-Beethoven program. It was a memorable start to my years with the BSO, playing what is arguably the most famous symphony ever written, Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5.
Boston Symphony Orchestra 1985–1986 season brochure.
The 1985–1986 season was my first full season with the Boston Symphony Orchestra. It was like a dream come true. The conductors: Seiji, Bernard Haitink, Giuseppe Sinopoli, Kurt Masur, Christoph Eschenbach, Pierre Boulez, Jeffrey Tate, Leonard Slatkin. The soloists: Maurice André, Itzhak Perlman, Viktoria Mullova, Alicia de Larrocha, Maurizio Pollini, André Watts, Hildegard Behrens, Gilbert Kalish. The repertoire: Brahms Symphonies 1 and 4, Shostakovich Symphony 8, Mahler Symphony 3 and 7; the list goes on. And it was like that every year, with Seiji headlining the season.
Boston Symphony Orchestra, Seiji Ozawa conducting. Program for opening night at Symphony Hall, October 1, 1985.
Opening night at Symphony in 1985, my first Symphony Hall opening night, featured Don Juan by Richard Strauss, Brahms’ Symphony 1, and with trumpet soloist Maurice André. I had played the Brahms Symphony with the BSO earlier that year at Tanglewood with Leonard Bernstein (I wrote about that experience HERE). Now I was playing it in the glorious acoustics of Boston’s Symphony Hall. Then there was Maurice André, a remarkable trumpet player. When I was a student at Wheaton College, he came to the college Artist Series and played a spectacular, memorable recital. Now I was up close, sitting in Symphony Hall to hear him in rehearsal (there were no trombones called for in his solo pieces).
Boston Symphony Orchestra brass section, Seiji Ozawa (center), conductor. Tanglewood, Summer 1987. Trombones: Ronald Barron, Norman Bolter, Douglas Yeo.
Symphony Hall. That proud temple of music in Boston, built in 1900, considered to be acoustically perfect, and one of the three greatest concert halls in the world along with Carnegie Hall in New York City and the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. Seiji reveled in Symphony Hall. Its warmth fit the Boston Symphony Orchestra like a glove. The BSO could deliver power when called for. But it was the elegance of the orchestra for which it was known. Seiji brought out that elegance like no other conductor. When he conducted, Seiji was poetry—he was ballet—in motion. He had no self-serving, extraneous motions. His body communicated the essence of the music and we in the orchestra knew exactly how to respond.
Boston Symphony Orchestra, Seiji Ozawa, music director. Symphony Hall, Boston, May 1988.
Seiji Ozawa was a truly great artist, musician, conductor. We all knew it; the world knew it. But for me, his musical persona was secondary to the fact that he was a genuine, caring human being. He loved the Boston Symphony Orchestra and its players. He showed this over and over. I had many personal encounters with Seiji, memorable moments that are frozen in time, so indelibly imprinted in my mind. One of the most significant is from the summer of 1989 when my oldest daughter, Linda, and I were in a horrific car accident at Tanglewood (a fuel oil truck sped through a red light and hit us broadside; we never saw it coming). Linda and I were taken by ambulance to the hospital; she was seriously injured and was in a coma. At first it was touch and go whether or not Linda would live but we prayed and prayed and prayed. The day after the accident, Seiji came to the hospital to visit our family. He had no entourage; he came without an announcement. He didn’t come as my boss, as “Music Director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra.” There were no cameras or microphones around. He came as the father of two children of his own who was visiting a friend whose daughter was profoundly injured. Seiji and I hugged and cried. We walked into the intensive care unit together to see Linda; Seiji was shaken. Fortunately, God gave us a miracle and Linda recovered—today she is a fine bass trombonist and music teacher, and the mother of our grandchildren—to see her now is a testament to God’s mercy, grace, and healing power. And Seiji’s visit—a visit that came with no fanfare—remains in my mind as I remember him as not only a great musician, but as a caring person.
I also remember many conversations I had with Seiji about God and faith. When we met and spoke in private, he opened up about many things. Seiji’s mother was a Christian; his father was Buddhist. In a conversation, he told me that the first Western music he ever heard was his mother singing to him, in English, the old African-American spiritual, “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen, nobody knows but Jesus.” When asked in an interview what he thought was the most important piece of classical music ever written, Seiji said—without hesitation—”The Bach Saint Matthew Passion.” When he retired from the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 2002, I gave Seiji a book of memories of our time together along with a New Testament Bible in Japanese. He received the gift with gratitude and grace.
Douglas Yeo and Seiji Ozawa, Boston Symphony Orchestra Japan tour, 1989.
When the BSO was on tour, Seiji always threw a party for the orchestra. Nowhere were these parties more lavish and fun than when we toured Japan. There, Seiji was truly in his element, his comfort zone, so happy to be showing off his orchestra to his country, and so engaged with all of the orchestra’s players. The photo above shows Seiji and me at a party on a tour of Japan in 1989, one of those memorable times when, without instruments or batons in our hands, Seiji’s fun side came out.
Keith Lockhart and Seiji Ozawa with R. Douglas Wright and Douglas Yeo. February 6, 1995.
This is one of my favorite photos of Seiji, above. Keith Lockhart was named conductor of the Boston Pops in February 1995. That day, during a rehearsal at Symphony Hall, Keith and Seiji walked behind the back row of brass players and parked themselves behind R. Douglas Wright and me. Doug, who is currently principal trombonist of the Minnesota Orchestra, was the BSO’s and Boston Pops’ regular substitute player for many years, and we laughed when this photo appeared in the Boston Globe on February 7, 1996 with the caption, “New Boston Pops conductor Keith Lockhart (rear left, with Boston Symphony Orchestra music director Seiji Ozawa) will also direct the BSO’s youth concerts. ‘I can’t wait to get started,’ he said.” Somehow that caption never felt adequate for the expressions on Keith and Seiji’s faces. Caption contest, anyone?
Seiji Ozawa with extra trumpet players for a performance of Respighi’s Pines of Rome, Tokyo Forum, May 1999. Our daughter, Robin, is standing tall, third from right.
Seiji had more interactions with my family. In Spring 1999, I brought our youngest daughter, Robin, on the BSO’s Japan tour. For this tour, the BSO gave a concert in the Tokyo Forum on a national holiday, “Children’s Day.” As part of the concert, a group of Japanese school children who played trumpet and trombone were selected to play the additional brass parts for Respighi’s Pines of Rome. Since Robin was a fine trumpet player (first chair trumpet in Massachusetts All-State Orchestra and other groups), Seiji agreed to let Robin play with the group of school children at the Tokyo concert. The photo above shows Seiji coming in for a rehearsal in Tokyo with the Japanese students, Robin towering over the other players, trumpet in hand.
Members of the Boston Symphony Orchestra with extra players, performing the National Anthem at a New England Patriots game, Foxborough Stadium, Massachusetts, fall 1999. Trombone section: Ronald Barron, Darren Acosta, Douglas Yeo. Our daughter, Robin, can be seen just to the right of Seiji Ozawa.
Seiji was an avid sports fan who was deeply invested in Boston sports. Particularly the Boston Red Sox and New England Patriots. Our Boston Symphony brass section played the National Anthem at many Patriots and Red Sox games, and for one Patriots game at the old Foxborough Stadium in 1999, we were in need of another trumpet player and Robin was asked to play with us. It was a thrill for me to stand on the 50-yard line and play the National Anthem with Seiji conducting and Robin just a few feet away from me.
Seiji Ozawa and Douglas Yeo, Foxborough Stadium, Massachusetts, fall 1999.
In 1994, the Boston Symphony Orchestra gave the United States and Asian premieres of a newly discovered work by Hector Berlioz, his Messe solennelle. When I looked at the score for the piece, I noticed there was a prominent solo for serpent. I had seen serpents in museums and the Boston Symphony had several serpents in its historical instrument collection. I thought to myself, “I think I’d like to play serpent on the Berlioz Messe.” Having never held a serpent in my hand before and with no idea what I was getting into, I purchased an instrument, learned how to play it, auditioned it for Seiji, and he was thrilled. He’d never heard a serpent before and he was intrigued by the instrument and its sound. Before a rehearsal, I gave Seiji a serpent t-shirt and he immediately pulled off his shirt and put on the t-shirt for the rehearsal. This was classic Seiji: inquisitive, always wanting to learn, and having fun in the process. Seiji gave me a chance with the serpent and since that time, I have played serpent on many concerts with the BSO and other orchestras, given serpent recitals, made a serpent CD and DVD, and enjoyed numerous forays into the “early music” movement because of the serpent. And it all started with Seiji giving the serpent and me a chance.
Seiji Ozawa and Douglas Yeo, Symphony Hall, Boston, Fall 1994.
(1985–2002)A sample of recordings made by the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Seiji Ozawa, 1985–2002.
During the years that Seiji’s and my tenures at the Boston Symphony overlapped (1985–2002), we made many recordings together. These included all of the Mahler symphonies except Symphony No. 8 (recorded before I came to the BSO) and Symphony No. 4 (which does not include trombones), concertos with Yo-Yo Ma, Krystian Zimerman, Mstislav Rostropovich, and others, operas, the Concerto for Orchestra and Miraculous Mandarin by Bartok, and much more. That recorded legacy that I shared with Seiji and the Boston Symphony is something I cherish, and it is an ongoing reminder of the remarkable collaborations we shared together. Here’s a list of the recordings I made with Seiji Ozawa and the Boston Symphony Orchestra:
Twentieth Century Bach [arrangements of music by J.S. Bach by Stravinsky, Webern, Stokowski, Schönberg, Saito] (Philips/Boston Symphony/Ozawa)
Bartok: Concerto for Orchestra and The Miraculous Mandarin [complete ballet] (Philips/Boston Symphony/Ozawa)
Bartok: Concerto for Violin No. 2 (DGG/Mutter/Boston Symphony/Ozawa)
Seiji’s last concert in Symphony Hall as music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra was on April 20, 2022. By then he had been music director for 29 years. He was ready for a change but it was difficult for me to say goodbye to this man who meant so much to so many of us for so long.
Cover of the NHK DVD featuring two works performed by the Boston Symphony Orchestra and Seiji Ozawa. Beethoven Symphony No. 7 (Suntory Hall Tokyo, 1989) and Mahler Symphony No. 9 (2002). NHK DVD NSDS-14717; NHK Blu-ray NSBB-14721.
Seiji’s last concert in Symphony Hall as music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra had a single work on the program: Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 9. We had recorded and performed this piece with Seiji on numerous occasions. And it seemed a fitting piece for us to play together as he closed his tenure as music director of the BSO. NHK (Japan) filmed the concert and later released it on a DVD and Blu-ray along with a 1989 performance of the BSO playing Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7. I am so glad to have this document of the concert.
Boston Symphony Orchestra program for Seiji Ozawa’s final concerts with the orchestra, November 28 and 29, 2008. Symphony Hall, Boston.
The concert was emotional on so many levels. But, fortunately, we had not really said goodbye to Seiji. In 2006 , he returned for a concert at Tanglewood (a performance of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 2), and in 2008, he returned once again to Symphony Hall for concerts that included Symphonie fantastique by Hector Berlioz. The Symphonie was one of Seiji’s “party pieces,” a piece we played more times than I can count at home and on tour, and a piece that he and the orchestra did exceptionally well. The NHK DVD of Seiji’s final concert as music director of the BSO in 2002 also included a segment about his return to Symphony Hall in November 2008. The DVD contains some video of the rehearsals and concerts from that memorable occasion, as well as interviews by Seiji and a few BSO members, including me.
Douglas Yeo interview segment for NHK DVD/Blu-ray of Mahler Symphony No. 9, Beethoven Symphony No. 7, and a special segment on Seiji Ozawa’s return to Symphony Hall in November 2008.
I was so happy to be asked to say a few words on camera about Seiji and what he meant to both the orchestra and to me. Here’s some of what I said:
I think Seiji has such a way of communicating the music with musicians. Now, there’s a combination of his being older and even deeper as a musician, and the musicians of the Boston Symphony trusting him even more. He comes back now as, sort of, like our grandfather, like a hero to us because we had so many years with him. Now we have Seiji come back to remind us of those many years of great performances. And I have to say, for me personally, it is very, very exciting.
It was exciting. It was always exciting. The video (below) produced by WCVB-TV (Channel 5) in Boston when Seiji returned to Symphony Hall in 2008 shows some of the excitement we all experienced with Seiji on the podium.
Television segment produced by WCVB-TV Channel 5, Boston, on the occasion of Seiji Ozawa’s return to Symphony Hall, November 2008.
Here is the message that Seiji had for Boston Symphony audiences, from the program book for his final concerts in Symphony Hall as music director of the BSO, April 18, 19, 20, 2002.
Message from Seiji Ozawa, from the Boston Symphony Orchestra program book for April 18, 19, 20, 2002.
Seiji Ozawa was music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra for 29 years, from 1973 to 2002. He hired me into the Boston Symphony in 1985 and became one of my musical inspirations as well as a friend. The photo below was taken by my friend, Michael Lutch, at Seiji’s final concert in Symphony Hall as music director of the BSO, on April 20, 2002. This was at the end of our performance of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 9. Seiji was exhausted; emotionally spent. Yet, this is how I will always remember Seiji. His smile, his engagement with the orchestra and the audience, and his commitment to the art of music are things I will never forget. Working with Seiji Ozawa changed my life and I will always be grateful for how God brought our lives together. I miss him, but I will never forget him.
My favorite colors are orange and blue. Why? Well, they’re the colors of my undergraduate alma mater, Wheaton College (Illinois). I graduated from Wheaton College in 1976, and I’ve been the College’s trombone professor since 2019.
Compact disc recording of the Wheaton College Trombone Quartet, 1974–1976 (released 2022), Like a River Glorious. James Roskam, Eric Carlson, William Meena, and Douglas Yeo, trombones.
Orange and blue are also the colors of the Chicago Bears. My wife and I are season ticket holders to Bears football. There’s a lot of orange and blue in our family’s wardrobes.
Douglas and Patricia Yeo at Soldier Field, Chicago. Minnesota Vikings vs. Chicago Bears, September 2019.
In November 2016, I traveled to University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign to give a lecture at the Sousa Archives and Center for American Music, give a trombone masterclass, and participate as guest soloist at an Illinois football game halftime show with the Marching Illini Band. You can read about those memorable days by clicking HERE. And, what, you may ask, are University of Illinois’ colors? You guessed it: orange and blue.
In May of this year, I took part in the All-American Alumni Band reunion in Ohio. That was fun, and you can read about it by clicking HERE. Although I represented New Jersey when I was a member of the McDonald’s All-American High School Band in 1972-1973, I wanted to show a little Illinois pride at our recent reunion, so I pulled out the polo shirt that Dr. Barry Houser, director of the Marching Illini Band, gave to me in 2016.
Little did I know that just two months later, that shirt would have a lot more meaning for me.
Last week, University of Illinois School of Music announced my appointment as its trombone professor (Adjunct Clinical Associate Professor of Trombone) for the 2022–2023 academic year. At the end of May, the University’s trombone professor abruptly retired, and the School of Music reached out to several people including me to ask if we would be interested in applying for a one-year position. I was intrigued by the idea so I tossed my hat in the ring, not at all sure that everything could possibly come together to make it happen on my end even if the University turned out to be interested in me. As things turned out, they were interested in me and after several interviews, I was offered the position. After a lot of thought and prayer, I decided to accept, and in a few weeks, I’ll be in Urbana each week working with a trombone studio of talented players, and working alongside my good friend, Jim Pugh, who is University of Illinois’ professor of jazz trombone and composition.
Jim Pugh and Douglas Yeo playing Charles Small’s Conversation, University of Illinois School of Music, November, 2016
I also have another friend who teaches at University of Illinois—trumpet professor Charles Daval. Charles was a member of the Boston Symphony Orchestra during my first years in the BSO. This photo, below, shows the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Seiji Ozawa in a memorable performance of Dmitri Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10 at the Philharmonie in Berlin, August 1984. You can see Charles on the far right and me behind him, playing over his right shoulder. Our second trombonist for part of that tour was Carl Lenthe, then principal trombonist of the Bayerische Staatsoper, and now Professor of Trombone at Indiana University. Ronald Barron is playing principal trombone. I plan to hang this photo in my office at University of Illinois, a reminder of how Charles and I find ourselves together once again nearly 40 years after we first met.
Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Seiji Ozawa, performing Symphony No. 10 of Dmitri Shostakovich. Philharmonie, Berlin, August 1984. Charles Daval (far right), third trumpet; Douglas Yeo (behind Daval’s right shoulder), bass trombone.
When my appointment to the University of Illinois faculty was announced, flute professor and chair of Winds/Brass/Percussion, Dr. Jonathan Keeble, interviewed me for a press release. Here’s the interview, which tells a little more of this story:
What have been your favorite professional musical experiences?
Making a list of favorite musical experiences is like asking, “Which of your children do you love the most?” But if I had to choose a few from my long career, they would include performing Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No 2 with Leonard Bernstein in the National Cathedral, Washington DC, Dmitri Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10 with Seiji Ozawa in Berlin, Josef Haydn’s The Creation with Simon Rattle in Boston’s Symphony Hall, and Johannes Brahms’ Symphony No. 2 in Amsterdam with Bernard Haitink. And recording the film scores to Schindler’s List and Saving Private Ryan with John Williams on the podium.
What pulled you away from the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and into teaching when you moved over to Arizona State University?
After playing in the Boston Symphony for nearly 30 years, I had accomplished every dream I had imagined as a member of a great symphony orchestra. My wife and I decided to retire to Arizona—we love the landscape and diverse cultures of the Southwest—not knowing exactly what was next for us but we were ready for new adventures. Then, Arizona State University approached me about accepting their full time Professor of Trombone position; I could not refuse. Trombone students at a university are interested in a host of artistic expressions: performer, educator, arranger, author, and much more. I am a trombonist who has been involved in everything – from performing the symphonic canon, to actively participating in early music as a sackbut, serpent, and ophicleide player, to being a New York City jazz freelancer, as well as a high school band director, and author of numerous books and articles. It’s through this broad set of experiences that I can relate to and help students who have many different goals. Engaging with my students at ASU and helping them to become difference makers in society was immensely gratifying but in 2018, we decided to move to the Chicago area. Grandkids can do that to you.
What about University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign (UIUC) coaxed you to come out of retirement for the upcoming year?
In 2016, I came to the Illinois campus on two occasions. The first was to give a concert in the Krannert Center with Philharmonia Baroque (I played serpent on Handel’s Music for the Royal Fireworks). The second was to give a lecture at the Sousa Archives and Center for American Music, and perform as guest soloist with the Marching Illini at a football halftime show. I was impressed with all I experienced on campus, and when the University approached me about its need for a trombone professor for 2022–2023, the idea was immediately appealing. Also, I played alongside UIUC’s trumpet professor Charles Daval when he was a member of the Boston Symphony Orchestra in the 1980s, and jazz trombone and composition professor Jim Pugh and I have been good friends for many years. The prospect of working with them and UIUC’s talented students was simply irresistible. I keep flunking retirement but I’m OK with that.
Indeed, it seems as though you’ve hardly taken a breath since “retiring!” What is it you find most gratifying about teaching trombone?
Watching a student have that Eureka! moment when a concept clicks. When a student understands that making music is more than a job but it’s a calling, the intensity of the student/teacher relationship kicks into high gear. I have been fortunate to have many students who are passionate about positively influencing the world with a trombone in their hands, and the joy of working with them is incalculable.
Who’s Professor Yeo when the trombone’s out of his hands?
I love to write. In fact one of two books I completed last year is published by University of Illinois Press (Homer Rodeheaver and the Rise of the Gospel Music Industry, co-authored with my friend, Kevin Mungons). My favorite non-musical thing to do is hiking with my wife, our favorite place to do that is Zion National Park in Utah, and we are Chicago Bears football season ticket holders. Our family bleeds orange and blue. That’s another reason why I’m very excited to be part of the UIUC community!
So, here we go. In a few weeks, I’ll be in Urbana teaching at UIUC. Orange and blue. That same week, I’ll be also back in my studio teaching at Wheaton College. Orange and blue. And a few weeks later, the Chicago Bears will open their season and my wife and I will be in our seats at Soldier Field, Chicago. Orange and blue.
The last consequential musical performance I gave before the coronavirus pandemic hit in March 2020 was a joint recital in St. Louis with my good friend, Megumi Kanda, principal trombonist of the Milwaukee Symphony. That recital, on February 17, was hosted by the St. Louis Low Brass Collective, and it was a fun and memorable time of sharing music and music making with friends and an appreciative audience. Little did any of us know that the course of the pandemic over the next two-plus years would greatly constrain public performances. While the pandemic is still with us—let’s not kid ourselves: it’s still wreaking havoc around the world despite our collective desire to put it in our rear view mirrors—we are taking tentative steps to regain the rhythm of life that we enjoyed before anyone knew what the acronym COVID stood for.
Last year, I wanted to give a faculty recital at Wheaton College. Since 2019, I’ve been Wheaton College’s trombone professor, and the College has been important to our family since the early 1970s because my wife, our daughters, and I all went to school there. For this faculty recital, I an idea. Instead of the usual fare—play several important pieces written for bass trombone—I envisioned a program based on several stories. On April 19, 1976, I gave my senior bass trombone recital at Wheaton College; I was 20 years old. It was one of several culminating events that occurred during my last months as a student at Wheaton College and it remains memorable to this day. As I reflected on that, I realized that 2021 was the 45th anniversary of that recital. Also in 2021, I was 65 years old. In 1976 I was a senior in college. In 2021, I was officially a senior citizen. So why not do A Senior Recital, and celebrate the 45th anniversary of my senior recital—as a senior?
But it was not to be. In April 2021, the coronavirus pandemic was in full swing and I could not give the kind of recital I wanted to give. I didn’t want to perform a recital in an empty room that would only be seen over a live stream. For me, concerts are collaborative events between performers and audience, interactive affairs where we all feed off each other’s energy. I put aside the idea of A Senior Recital for another day. And that day came last week.
Last Saturday, on April 23, 2022, I gave A Senior Recital, in the new concert hall in Wheaton College’s Armerding Center for the Arts. Now on the 46th anniversary of my 1976 recital, and a year older, I decided to give a recital that celebrated the spirit of creativity that infused my 1976 recital. I also wanted to perform on several different musical instruments that have been a big part of my life for many years. I spent some time during the recital in front of a long table that held all of the instruments I used in the recital and I gave a little talk about each one. A word about the instruments. Naturally, I played bass trombone, my Yamaha YBL-822G bass trombone. But I introduced the audience to some other instruments, too. Serpent, ophicleide, six-valve trombone, and my new carbon fiber conversion of one of my Yamaha bass trombones, made by Butler Trombones. “Yeo’s music store” was visible throughout the recital on a table on stage, and some of the audience reactions when I played and talked about these instruments can be heard on the full stream of the recital. More on that below.
Douglas Yeo talking about the six-valve trombone. Other instruments that are visible include serpent, ophicleide (on the table), and two Yamaha bass trombones, one with a carbon fiber conversion by Butler Trombones. April 23, 2022.Photo by Paul Schmidt.
Finally, I wanted to tell a story—several stories, actually. I wanted to tell stories about music, music-making, musical instruments, faith, hope, and love, and Wheaton College. So, I did.
At this season of life—I will turn 67 years old in a couple of weeks—I’m grateful for any opportunity I have to make music. While I don’t have my 35 year old body and I’m not able to do everything with a musical instrument in my hand that I was able to do in the past, I still like to play and share music with others. Whether in a recital, or as part of a church service, or alongside my wife, daughters, or grandchildren, music making has been a part of our family’s life for as long as any of us can remember. And for this recital, I was very fortunate to have superb collaborating artists. For five pieces, Dr. Michael Messer, a piano professor at Wheaton College, provided absolutely tremendous accompaniment for me. He is a superb musician and player—those two words do not always go together but in his case, they do, in spades—and collaborating with him was a real joy. Also, for one piece on the program, Dr. Tony Payne, a classmate of mine from my days as a student at Wheaton College who also now teaches and performs administrative roles including running the Artist Series at Wheaton College, played organ along with me. Working with these friends made the recital all the more enjoyable. For A Senior Recital, I chose a program that I hoped would be engaging for the audience, and from reports from people who attended, it was mission accomplished. We had a good time. So, in the spirit of sharing this model of putting together a recital, what follows are some links so you can watch and listen to it, too.
First, you can download the recital program by clicking HERE. The program tells a story, so if you take the time to read it, you’ll understand exactly what I was trying to do with this recital.
You can view the entire recital—from top to tail— by clicking HERE. This Boxcast link will be live for a year, until April 23, 2023. The recital was performed without intermission, and with the full Boxcast link, you’ll hear everything from Dr. Michael Wilder’s (Dean of the Wheaton College Conservatory of Music and Division of Arts and Communications) introduction to the moment after the last piece where our two grandchildren brought flowers to me on stage. You’ll hear my conversation with the audience about the music, and see me give brief demonstrations of all of the musical instruments I played on the recital. It’s all there.
I’ve also put videos of a few performances from the recital on YouTube—no talking or introductions, just the music. Those links follow here.
I’ve enjoyed playing many of Elizabeth Raum’s compositions over the years. When I was teaching trombone at Arizona State University (2012–2016), our faculty brass trio of John Ericson (horn), Deanna Swoboda (tuba), and me commissioned Betsy to write a piece for us, Relationships, and we recorded it on a CD produced by Summit Records, Table for Three. Click HERE to hear our recording of the first movement of Relationships, “Two Against One.” Her solo for bass trombone and piano, Turning Point, found inspiration in the Robert Burns poem, “To a Mouse,” where Burns penned the famous line, “The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry.” Indeed, we have all seen this line in action over the last two years of the pandemic, where many plans were upended. Turning Point speaks to this turbulence but it ends in a positive, hopeful way. Michael Messer is at the piano.
Asking a person, “Who is your favorite composer?”, is a little like asking, “Who is the favorite of your children?” It’s an impossible question. But if I had to make a list of those composers who have inspired and challenged me, Hector Berlioz will be on that list. High up on that list. I have played a great deal of his music over the years during my long career as a member of the Boston Symphony Orchestra (1985–2012). In 1840, Berlioz wrote a three movement symphony for band, his Grande Symphonie funèbre et triumphale, the middle movement of which is a funeral oration intoned by a solo trombone. I’ve known about this piece since I was in high school when I encountered it in Henry Charles Smith’s fine book, Solos for the Trombone Player (Henry retitled it “Recitative and Prayer”). Several years ago, I purchased a six-valve trombone with independent tubes, a creation of Adolphe Sax in the mid-nineteenth century. This instrument—its formal name is quite wonderful: le nouveau trombone Sax à six pistons et à tubes indépendants—was Sax’s attempt to create a brass instrument with valves that has “perfect intonation.” As brass players know, with a standard three or four valve brass instrument whose valves are used in combination with each other, the lengthening of tubing when using the valves causes intonation challenges. By creating an instrument with six valves—and the open instrument with no valves— that work independently (the valves do not work in combination), and each valve (and the open instrument) has its own independent length of tubing, certain problems with intonation that valves in combination cause are eliminated. But that’s not to say that all pitch problems are solved, and that, along with the fact that the fingerings are anything but intuitive, the instrument is quite heavy, and condensation from the player’s breath collects quickly in the small bore (.460″) tubes, led the six-valve trombone (and a whole family of six-valve instruments that Sax invented) to have its moment on the stage in France and Belgium for the second half of the nineteenth century into the twentieth century before it disappeared from the musical scene. Still, I enjoy bringing old instruments back to life, and while I have never succeeded in performing a piece on this instrument without making a valve fingering gaffe—my brain always wants to return to standard three valve fingerings, a consequence of having played bass trumpet in the Boston Symphony for many years—I like bringing Berlioz’s Orasion to audiences. In this performance I’m playing my six-valve trombone by Joseph Persy, a Belgian maker who was active in Brussels from 1897. Again, Michael Messer is at the piano.
Girolamo Frescobaldi wrote several works for unspecified bass instruments which I have played on many occasions. In 2012, I gave a recital at Arizona State University where I played Frescobaldi’s first Canzon on a bass sackbut in F with Dr. Kimberly Marshall playing organ. You can see a video of that performance HERE. I’ve also played it on bass trombone accompanied by piano. But I confess I never enjoy playing it more than when accompanied by Eddy Koopman’s creative techno-pop electronic treatment. The arrangement was written for my friend, Dutch bass trombonist Ben van Dijk, and I played it on the buccin (dragon bell trombone) in Nagoya, Japan in 2018 as part of the Second Nagoya Trombone Festival. You can read about that and see photos of that event HERE.
For my recent recital performance of Canzone, I decided to pair the oldest piece on my recital with my newest trombone, a carbon fiber conversion of my Yamaha YBL-822G bass trombone made by Dave Butler of Butler Trombones. I became interested in acquiring a carbon fiber trombone a few years ago in light of a number of challenges I’ve been facing with my shoulders, hands, and elbow. Over 55 years of playing the trombone—of lifting it up and down, holding it up, moving the slide continuously—has taken its toll on my body, and the idea of sometimes playing a lighter instrument is very appealing. I was initially suspicious of the idea of a carbon fiber trombone, but as I learned more about it and discovered that it actually sounds great, I’ve embraced this instrument as something that I use regularly. You can read more about my impressions about this instrument in an article I wrote for The Last TromboneHERE. With my carbon fiber trombone in my hands, I once again had the chance to bring Eddy Koopman’s take on Frescobaldi’s Canzon to a new audience.
My fascination with historical musical instruments dates from my childhood, when I spent many hours in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s (New York City) musical instrument galleries. I wrote about my first encounter—as a young boy— with the buccin, the dragon-bell trombone of the nineteenth century, in an article on The Last Trombone that you can read HERE. I’ve been playing the serpent since 1994, when I learned it so I could play the serpent in performances of Hector Berlioz’s Messe solennelle with the Boston Symphony Orchestra in Boston, Carnegie Hall, and Tokyo. Since then, I’ve been an evangelist for the instrument. I’ve written articles about it (such as this one about serpents in collections in Boston, and this one about the serpent in the works of English author, Thomas Hardy), a book about it, and recorded a solo CD and an instructional DVD about it. I love this curious. odd, and old instrument that was invented in the sixteenth century.
Over the years, I’ve gotten to know many of the world’s leading serpent players and scholars (yes, they do exist!). Clifford Bevan is acknowledged as the leading expert on the tuba family (he authored a book of that name, The Tuba Family, which remains the seminal and most important volume about the tuba and its ancestors, including the serpent). I’ve known Cliff for many years, and in 1996, he wrote what may be the first piece ever written for serpent and piano, Variations on “The Pesky Sarpent.” The piece takes its title from a nineteenth century folksong titled, “On Springfield Mountain,” which relates the sad tale of a young man who was bitten by a rattlesnake. Cliff’s piece includes the text of the song and in my performance, I began by reading the poem before Michael Messer started “The Pesky Sarpent” in dramatic, Lisztian fashion.
Tony Payne, organ, and Douglas Yeo, ophicleide, rehearsing Sir Arthur Sullivan’s, The Lost Chord. Concert Hall, Armerding Center for the Arts, Wheaton College. April 23, 2022. Organ by Taylor & Boody. Photo by Marian Payne.
Douglas Yeo performing Sir Arthur Sullivan’s, The Lost Chord. April 23, 2022. Photo by Paul Schmidt.
After playing the serpent I turned to the ophicleide, a brass, keyed successor to the serpent that was invented in France in the early nineteenth century. The ophicleide has a warm, mellow sound, and it’s no surprise that it remained on the scene—particularly in France and England—until the dawn of the twentieth century when the euphonium and tuba replaced it in most settings. Unfortunately the lighting in the Armerding Center for the Arts Concert Hall organ loft was rather dark so the video quality is not good enough to upload it to YouTube. A few photos are above. However, an audio recording was made and you can hear my performance of Sir Arthur Sullivan’s The Lost Chord on ophicleide with Tony Payne at the organ HERE.
The recital contained other music as well, and as I mentioned earlier, you can see and hear the entire recital on the Boxcast streaming video. Before the last piece (more on that below), I welcomed to the stage four friends from my time as a student at Wheaton College. From 1974–1976, James Roskam, Eric Carlson, William Meena, and I had a trombone quartet on campus. George Krem, Wheaton College’s trombone professor when the four of us first met in the summer of 1974, suggested that we form the quartet. That group was a very special one, and to have Jim, Eric, Bill, George, and me together for the first time in over 45 years—I invited them to be recognized on stage at the end of the recital and we enjoyed some time together afterward—was very special.
left to right: Douglas Yeo, James Roskam, Eric Carlson, William Meena, and George Krem. April 23, 2022, Wheaton College, Illinois. Photo by Tony Payne.
The recital also served as a kind of release party for a new trombone quartet compact disc recording, Like A River Glorious. Well, a new but also old recording. This CD, which features both live recordings and recordings from a recording session our quartet gave between 1974 and 1976, was produced by the four members of our quartet and our recording engineer, Craig Ediger (it is not produced by Wheaton College, although College administrators have been very supportive of and approve of the project). We made this CD to celebrate the spirit of student-led creativity that was such a part of our experience as students at Wheaton College and we are giving it away as a recruiting aid for the Wheaton College Conservatory of Music. You can’t buy it; we’re just giving it away. But we are reserving copies for prospective students; we don’t have the resources to distribute it widely by packing it up and mailing it to people. We will be getting the audio tracks available for free download soon—information about that will appear in a future article on The Last Trombone—along with the CD packaging. If you came to my recital, an usher put a copy of the CD in your hand as you left the Concert Hall. It is only 46 years overdue, but we finally made the recording we had hoped to make way back in 1976.
My recital ended with a piece that was the signature piece for our 1974–1976 Wheaton College Trombone Quartet, Donald Miller’s arrangement of Achieved is the Glorious Work from Joseph Haydn’s The Creation. I was joined on stage by three of my current students at Wheaton College: sophomore Michael Rocha, senior Daniel Casey, and Senior Jonah Brabant. It seemed fitting to close the recital in a way that came full circle for me, from my student days at Wheaton College to my time now as the College’s trombone professor. A Senior Recital.
