Category: teaching

Baseball, the Chicago Cubs, and Egyptian Pharaohs. Seriously?

by Douglas Yeo (June 26, 2026)

I live in the Chicago area and a few weeks ago, I went to Wrigley Field to see a Chicago Cubs game. But this was not an ordinary sporting event for me. I took part in the playing of the National Anthem before the game with the University of Illiniois Trombone Choir, conducted by Dr. Jonathan Whitaker. I was trombone professor at University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign from 2022-2024 while the University was conducting a search for a new trombone professor. I was thrilled when Jon Whitaker was hired to the position and when the Chicago Cubs invited the UIUC trombone choir to play the National Anthem on June 2, — part of the Cubs’ annual University of Illinois night at Wrigley Field — it took me exactly one second to accept Jon’s invitation for me to play with the group.

The University of Illinois Trombone Choir conducted by Dr. Jonathan Whitaker, Wrigley Field, Chicago, June 2, 2026. You can see me fifth from right among the bass trombone players (photo by Matt Dirksen/Chicago Cubs).

The day was very special for me. I’ve played the National Anthem at dozens of professional and collegiate sporting events during my lifetime. It’s always been a thrill to be on the field or at center court in a stadium and this was a chance to enjoy the moment with some of my former students at Illinois who were also playing the Anthem. CLICK HERE to view the official video of the performance (on YouTube) that was provided to the University of Illinois Trombone Studio by the Chicago Cubs.

With my former trombone students Sam Murray, Louis Gray, and Derrick Neal. Wrigley Field, Chicago, June 2, 2026.

Before the game, I stopped in a sports shop in Wrigleyville and picked up a copy of a new book, Chicago Cubs 150 Years: The Official Illustrated History. I flipped through the pages and my eyes popped out when I saw a two page spread with photos of baseball players playing a game at the Pyramids and Sphinx in Egypt. Seriously.

Scott Gummer, Chicago Cubs 150 Years: The Official Illustrated History (Skybox Press, 2026).

Baseball game at the Pyramids of Giza. Chicago White Stockings (Chicago Cubs) vs. All America All-Stars, February 9, 1889.

Members of the Chicago White Stockings (Chicago Cubs) with members of the All American All-Stars at the Sphinx, Giza, Egypt, February 9, 1889.

Given my interest in Egypt (readers of TheLastTrombone can read my articles about Egypt HERE, HERE, and HERE), I started looking for more information about this. I found that the story has been told HERE (“The surreal afternoon a baseball game was played among the great Egyptian pyramids”), and, for detailed accounts with team rosters, the schedule, results of games, and much more, HERE (February 9, 1889: A Wondrous Ball Park: The Pyramid Game in Giza, Egypt”), and HERE (“The Great Base Ball Trip around the World in 1888–’19”).

The Chicago Cubs were founded as the Chicago White Stockings in 1870 and in 1876, the team joined baseball’s National League. In 1890, the team took on the name the Chicago Colts and by 1902, they adopted the name Chicago Cubs.

From October 1888 to April 1889, Chicago White Stockings team owner Albert Spalding took the team on a world tour where the White Stockings played exhibition games against a “All America” team of National League all-star players. The tour, which started in the United States, took the teams to New Zealand, Australia, and Europe, and included a game in Sri Lanka (January 26, 1889) and one in the shadow of the Great Pyramid of Giza (February 9, 1889) before returning to the United States to finish the tour. Three players on the tour were later inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame: Cap Anson, John Montgomery Ward, and Ned Hanlon. In addition, Albert Spalding and Henry Chadwick, who accompanied the teams on the tour, also were also inducted into the Hall of Fame.

Seeing these photos seems almost surreal. As if that wasn’t enough, as I was looking for more information about the games, I came across a page on the website of Because Baseball that implied that a type of baseball may have been invented and played in ancient Egypt. And they included a photograph to support their argument:

Photo courtesy of Because Baseball.

Well, it sure LOOKS like someone with a baseball and bat. Yes? This led me to dig more deeply and learn that there are a number of such representations in Egyptian temples. The photo above is captioned “400 BC relief from the Temple of Philae in southern Egypt: Baseball has deep roots in ancient Egypt.” I visited Philae in January 2026 when my wife and I took a tour of Egypt. We did not see this relief (there was so much to see on Philae. . .) and after doing some research, I learned that it appears in the Temple of Isis at Philae, on the outer east wall of the sanctuary/nous.

Here is the location of the relief:

The Temple of Isis at Philae, Egypt. Bertha Porter and Rosalind L. B. Moss, Topographical Bibliography of Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphic Texts, Reliefs, and Paintings: VI. Upper Egypt: Chief Temples (Excluding Thebes), Abydos, Dendera, Esna, Edfu, Kôm Ombo, and Philae (Oxford: Griffith Institute, 1991), 230. The location of the relief is circled in red.

And here is an epigraphic drawing that shows the relief in context:

Georges Bénédite, Le Temple de Philae, Vol. 2 (Paris: Leroux, 1895), plate XXIX.

Carl E. DeVries described the scene (Carl E. DeVries, “A Ritual Ball Game?,” in Studies in Honor of John A Wilson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1969), 30.):

The second register on the exterior of the east wall of the temple of Isis [at Philae] has nine scenes of offerings made by Augustus. The eighth scene from the left shows the ruler striking a ball before Sekhmet, who is seated on a throne at the right. The king wears the double crown above horns, as in the first Edfu relief described above. Again he holds the ball in his left hand, while in his right he holds a stick which is more accurately described as a club or bat since it is considerably thicker at the striking end than at the handle. The position of the arms and the grasping of the club are more realistic than in the earlier representations.

It sure looks like baseball to our modern eyes. And there are some scholars that think that it’s plausible that some kind of game may be in play at the scene. However, recent scholarship seems to point to an act where the King — in the case of the Philae image, Caeser Augustus dressed as a Pharaoh — engages in a ritualized act of destruction, not a sport. The “ball” is not there to be played with; it is the evil eye Apophis (an ancient Egyptian diety of chaos and darkness). It is a symbolic enemy to be destroyed. The “bat” is not a baseball bat; it is a club or stick whose power derives from royal and divine violence. The setting is the temple wall, before the god Sekhmet (an ancient Egyptian diety of war and healing), within a series of offering scenes. Here, “hitting the ball” is an act of violence and royal protection whereby the King (Augustus) destroys a hostile power. For more on this, see, Panagiotis I. M. Kousoulis, “Some remarks on the ritual of ‘striking the ball’ in the liturgical environment of the Ptolemaic temples,” in ed. Ben Haring and Andrea Klug, Ägyptologische Tempeltagung, Leiden, 4–7 September 2002, Function und Gebrauch altägyptischer Tempelräume (Wiesbaden: Harrossowitz, 2007), 153–166.

And here is something else that’s important. Because Baseball’s article on baseball in Egypt dated this relief to 300 BC. That’s not correct. Rome conquered Egypt in 30 BC, and Augustus’s rule in Egypt was from 30 BC to 14 AD. The temple of Isis at Philae was erected in the third and second centuries BC during the Ptolemaic era of Egypt’s history but the Augustus reliefs were not made until the Roman era, several centuries later.

All of this is an interesting intersection of ancient Egypt and today’s modern sport of baseball. Things are not always as they appear but letting our imagination run wild — even if it flies in the face of historical accuracy — is fun. I will be visiting the Temple of Philae again when we return to Egypt next year and I will be sure to take some photos of the scene and then revise this article. For now, we’ll continue cheering for the Cubs (in baseball) and the Egyptian national team (in soccer/football). Go Cubs! Go Egypt!

Why trombone players cannot trust artificial intelligence (AI) for historical information

by Douglas Yeo (December 17, 2025)

I am at work on a book for Oxford University Press, The Trombone Book, that will be part of OUP’s new series of books on musical instruments. This new series replaces OUP’s previous series of books on musical instruments that included Trombone Technique by my late friend, Denis Wick (London: Oxford, 1971) that has been out of print for several years. I am working up against several deadlines to get the book finished and submitted by the end of 2026, so I’m working on this every day. It’s slow going because I want the book to be helpful. And if it’s going to be helpful, it needs to be accurate.

Included in my new book are several chapters on the history of the trombone, its music, composers, and performers. I have over 2000 books in my library here at home, and I make ample use of inter-library loan (ILL, or ILLIAD), access to which is generously provided to me by the kind staff at the Library at my undergraduate alma-mater, Wheaton College.

Two of the seven bookcases about composers, musical instruments, and other music related subjects in my home office. In our basement, I have many more bookcases full of books.

When it comes to historical resources, many have been scanned and are available on IMSLP and Internet Archive. This is a tremendous resource for researchers, a real change from the microfilm/microfiche days of old. (I remember those days; it was not an easy time to do research.) When I can’t find a scan online, I acquire the book. If I can’t get the book through inter-library-loan, I purchase it. Even though many historical passages in treatises and methods have been translated into English by various authors (including David Guion, Howard Weiner, and Stewart Carter), I always want to see the original myself and do my own translation. In some cases, when I deal with old typography in various languages (16th through 18th centuries), it’s difficult to read, and artificial intelligence can be helpful in providing the original text in readable form. AI (I use ChatGPT 5.2, a paid service that is more advanced than the free ChatGPT 4.o) can provide a reasonably good text into modern languages from old typography, and it also reasonably translates text into English. In this, AI can be very helpful, However. . . after I read an AI-made translation, I always redo the translation myself and also confirm the translation with a native speaker of that language. Because I don’t trust AI.

I have written about this previously on TheLastTrombone and if you haven’t read my article, ChatGPT and the trombone: Is this the end of writing and research? I don’t think so., please take a minute to do so. In that article, I fed ChatGPT several questions about the trombone and other musical instruments. The answers will probably surprise you but my conclusion should not: You cannot trust AI when it comes to the history of the trombone.

There are three reasons for this:

First, AI only knows what it’s been fed. If it’s been fed junk — older readers may remember IBM’s early motto, “GIGO,” or “Garbage In, Garbage Out” — it will spew out junk. Frankly, there is a lot of trombone research out there that’s pure junk. And AI has been fed a steady diet of trombone research junk. Why that’s the case is another story, but suffice to say that when I read something about the trombone in a book or article, I always look for the footnote and I track down the source myself. Because machines aren’t the only thing that get things wrong: human beings get things wrong, too, or they’re sloppy, or they don’t cite a source correctly, or they cite a secondary source that cites another secondary source and when you go to the end of the rainbow, there is no primary source. I wrote about this — people making up something and presenting it as true because they didn’t actually track down the original source — on TheLastTrombone when I discovered that the Pulitzer Prize Committee had mangled a quotation by Joseph Pulitzer ON ITS OWN WEBSITE. Read about that HERE, in my article titled, “Words matter.”

Second, AI is getting worse, not better when it comes to history. When it is asked questions, AI tries to answer them. It rarely says “I don’t know.” Instead, it feeds on previous answers it has given to similar questions, even if those answers were wrong. In time, like a game of “telephone,” AI ends up with something that’s wrong but sounds plausible. It always writes with excruciatingly accurate grammar and punctuation, even if sometimes the sentence structure it uses is a little over the top and a little cringeworthy.

Third, AI hallucinates. It makes up stuff. All. The. Time.

I’m taking time away from working on my book today to share a recent interaction I had with AI regarding a 18th century text about the trombone. I’m working with multiple sources at the same time and now and then, I get confused about where I actually got a source. I have hundreds of PDFs of articles, treatises, and methods in several languages. I have many screenshots I’ve taken of text that I’ve then uploaded to ChatGPT to put into a modern typeface so I can read it better.

Today, I was proofreading chapter 2 of my book, “A Brief History of the Conception and Evolution of the Trombone.” The first part of the chapter concerns many of the myths about the history of the trombone, myths that have been repeated over and over again in papers, dissertations, and books. Starting out with what’s wrong about how the trombone’s history has been told allows me to correct false narratives. It also gives me a good starting place to get back to ground zero and write something about the trombone’s history without the fog of mis- and dis-information that has affected trombone research for hundreds of years.

While I was proofreading, I came across an origin story for the trombone that I had included in my chapter — a false origin story. I recalled that I had read an English translation of the text I’m including in the chapter in a book, but I couldn’t recall where. My citation was for the original treatise; at least I THOUGHT it was the correct citation. But something in the back of my mind wondered if I had it right, so I re-uploaded the text to ChatGPT and asked what the source was. Here’s the text I needed to identify:

It’s the first paragraph that interests me. It’s a false narrative about the origin of the trombone. I translated it like this:

According to the testimony of Philo, the trombone was invented by the great, God-beloved prophet Moses, around the year 2400 of the world 200, just as Jewish writers ascribe the psaltery and cither to the first musician, Jubal. So, it is beyond dispute that the trombone is one of the most ancient musical instruments.

In my citation, I had given this as the source:

Johann Philipp Eisel, Musicus autodidactus, oder der sich selbst informirende Musicus (Erfurt: Wülfingische Buchhandlung 1738), 70.

But I wanted to be sure. So I asked ChatGPT. What follows are screenshots of my interaction with AI just a few hours ago, today, December 17, 2025. It begins with my uploading the passage (above) and my asking AI to identify it. I told AI that it had previously worked on this passage for me. My comments are on the right side of each screenshot, in a shaded box; ChatGPT is on the left:

AI identified the passage as from Daniel Speer’s important treatise Grund-richter Unterricht der Musikalischen Kunst (Fundamentally Correct Instruction in the Musical Arts) (Ulm: Georg Wilhelm Kühne; Christian Balthasar Kühnen sel. Erben, 1697).

AI said it was NOT from Walther’s Musicalisches Lexicon. Walther’s book, Musicalisches Lexicon oder Musicalische Bibliothec (Leipzig: Wolfgang Deer, 1732). I don’t know why ChatGPT said the text was not by Walther. AI must have thought I might have thought the quotation was from Walther’s book even though I had not referenced that book in any of my previous interactions with ChatGPT. A red flag went up in my mind.

In any case, ChatGPT continued to explain its confidence in identifying the passage as by Daniel Speer. It wrote:

That sounds pretty confident. And raise your hand if that answer would be good enough for you to include AI’s attribution to Speer in your paper about the trombone. I see your hand up!

But I wasn’t so sure. This all sounded a little suspicious. AI didn’t give any REAL source for the attribution to Speer. It said the passage “is characteristic of Speer,” it is out of “Speer’s Biblical-historical framework,” “Josephus” appears in Speer’s work, etc. It didn’t seem right, even though it confidently told me where I could find the text in Speer’s book. So, I asked AI to give me more:

First, here you can see the “fake news” in this passage, now that it’s translated into English. It cites the Hellenistic Jewish Philosopher, Philo of Alexandria, who, the passage says, testified that the trombone was invented by Moses — yes, THAT Moses, he of the 10 Commandments — in the year 2400 OF THE WORLD (not BC or AD, but OF THE WORLD) — and that “it is beyond dispute that the trombone is one of the most ancient musical instruments.” You can see why I’m including this text in my book where I talk about the myths of the trombone’s origins. It. Is. Not. True.

Second, ChatGPT’s translation of the passage into English is a little different than my own translation that I’m including in my book, as mentioned above. That’s because there are many ways to “do translation.” Word-for word, or thought-for-thought, or a combination. Once again, here’s my translation. It isn’t better or worse than the one that AI gave, but it’s a little more literal. The important thing is that the sense of the original comes through loud and clear and nothing new is added to the author’s intent:

According to the testimony of Philo, the trombone was invented by the great, God-beloved prophet Moses, around the year 2400 of the world 200, just as Jewish writers ascribe the psaltery and cither to the first musician, Jubal. So, it is beyond dispute that the trombone is one of the most ancient musical instruments

OK, back to AI. . .

I looked at my original citation for the text as I had written it in my book chapter. I had it identified as by Johann Eisel, as mentioned above. I was having doubts about Chat GPT’s confidence that the passage was from Speer, and I was gaining confidence in my original citation of Eisel.

I went back to my files and found Speer’s treatise. ChatGPT said the text in question came from page 221 of Speer’s book. I found the page; here’s what Speer wrote about the trombone on the bottom of page 221 and top of page 222:

Page 221 and 222 (incipts) from Daniel Speer, Grund-richtiger, kurtz-leicht- und nöthiger, jetzt wol-vermehrter Unterricht der musicalischen Kunst. Oder Vierfaches musicalisches Kleeblatt… (Ulm: Georg Wilhelm Kühne; Christian Balthasar Kühnen sel. Erben, 1697)

Here, below, is an English translation of these passages. You’ll notice that Speer is writing about the trombone in A, that the trombone has only three slide positions, and that alto, tenor, and bass trombone parts can all be played on a tenor trombone. I’m not going to unpack those things in this blog article; that’s a long conversation for another time (read about them in my book when it comes out!). Here’s what Speer wrote:

On trombones.

How does one ordinarily play a trombone?
A trombone is played by blowing and by means of the slide.

How many slide positions does a trombone have?
The principal slide positions of the trombone are in three places, apart from several others which should also be added.

Since on a tenor trombone one can play alto, tenor, and bass, this instrument shall therefore be described first.

First, one should know a trombone consists of two parts, namely the main section and the slide tubes, which lie within a sleeve. The main section is fitted onto the slide tubes, and the entire trombone is held with the left hand — a customary manner of holding which the instructor will already demonstrate to his pupil. With the right hand, however, one grasps the sleeve between the fingers.

This instrument has three principal slide positions. The first position is at the mouthpiece and consists of the following notes, as the appended example shows:

Interesting stuff, for sure. But there’s nothing on these pages about Philo. Nothing. Nothing about Moses. Nothing.

So I questioned AI about this:

Well, AI sure put me in my place: “Your screenshot is not from Eisel.” That sounds pretty definitive. But I pulled up my sleeves. I was ready for battle.

“OK, machine,” I thought. “Game on.”

By then I knew I was right and ChatGPT was wrong. I remembered where I first saw the quotation: it is in David M. Guion’s book, The Trombone: Its History and Music, 1697–1811 (New York: Gordon and Breach, 1988; reprint, New York: Routledge, 2013). David’s book is invaluable for a lot of reasons, including the fact that he reproduces comments about the trombone from many historical books and treatises. I turned to page 41 of David’s book and found the passage in question in the original German alongside David’s translation to English. If you’re a trombonist and you don’t have this book, ask Santa Claus to bring you a copy, or get it from the library. Here’s the passage from David Guion’s book; this is where I first read about Eisel’s story about Philo and the supposed origin — NOT! — of the trombone:

Excerpt from David M. Guion’s book, The Trombone: Its History and Music, 1697–1811 (Gordon and Breach, 1988; reprint, New York: Routledge, 2013), page 41.

As you can see above, David’s English translation is a little different than the one ChatGPT made and the one I made. All three give a good sense of the original. But even though David’s a really good researcher and scholar (and a fine trombonist, too), I wanted to see the original with my own eyes and make my own translation. I’ve seen enough instances where someone has missed a word—I’ve done it myself. It’s really important to me to get to the original source if I can find it. So I went looking for Eisel’s original.

Now it was time for me to ask ChatGPT another question. It had hallucinated — it had made up that the passage was by Speer. I wanted to know why, and I let the machine have it right between the eyes—or between semiconductors:

It took 44 seconds for ChatGPTto “think” and then write one of the most difficult sentences in the English language: “You’re right, and I was wrong.” AI went on to explain WHY it was wrong. Its answer was revealing. It didn’t check for the source of the quotation in question. It used a pattern-matching algorithm to attribute the quotation to Speer. Further, it was “overconfident.” When I challenged the attribution, instead of checking again, AI argued with me. It thought it knew the right answer and I didn’t. But AI was wrong.

I wasn’t going to let AI off the hook. In hopes that this “conversation” with a machine might help it make better decisions in the future, I scolded ChatGPT:

OK. A gold star for Douglas Yeo. A failing grade for ChatGPT. But, actually, this isn’t funny. This kind of thing goes on ALL THE TIME. ChatGPT’s conclusion is actually exactly correct:

If AI is to be useful in serious scholarship at all, it has to be treated — and behave — as a fallible research assistant, not an oracle.

Yes. Read these words over, and over, and over. This is important.

I hope that this short diversion from my afternoon of working on my book is both revealing and helpful to readers who engage in research and writing. AI is really useful for a lot of things. But it is also really BAD for a lot of things. We simply cannot rely on it for historical information. As AI tools evolve, they are getting more and more confident. That confidence is often misplaced. As I said earlier, AI’s answers often are like a game of “telephone.” Over time, AI’s overconfidence causes it to use its own hallucinations and misinformation and pile it on top of other misinformation on top of other misinformation. When dealing with AI, individuals are increasingly seeing that it is wise to employ the same phrase that Ronald Reagan used when he was negotiating a nuclear arms reduction treaty with the Soviet Union in the 1980s: “Trust but verify.” Actually, forget the trust part. You can’t trust AI. Verify everything. Everything.

The importance of getting trombone research right isn’t on the level of working to prevent nuclear war. But for a student who relies on AI, the consequence of a failing grade, or being responsible for continuing to perpetuate falsehoods, ought to be enough to cause one to think twice, then three times, then four times, or seventy-times-seven times before trusting anything AI delivers. If you’re a college professor, please consider forwarding this article to your students and on your social media platforms. We must recognize the limitations of artificial intelligence. We must get the world out. As ChatGPT said:

AI is a fallible research assistant, not an oracle.

That’s the most accurate thing I’ve heard from ChatGPT in a long time.

Just published: “More Than Bordogni: The life, work, and influence of Joannès Rochut”

by Douglas Yeo (January 4, 2025)

I have been researching the life, work, and influence of the celebrated French trombonist, Joannès Rochut, for nearly 40 years. Rochut, as readers of The Last Trombone know (see my previous blog posts about Joannès Rochut HERE, HERE, and HERE), played principal trombone in the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1925–1930, and he published three volumes of “Melodious Etudes for Trombone” from the vocalises of Marco Bordogni. Rochut’s books are among the most influential study material for trombone ever published.

In May 2024, I gave a presentation about Rochut at the International Trombone Festival, held at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas. Yesterday, my full research on Rochut was published in the January 2025 issue of the International Trombone Association Journal (Volume 53, No. 1). The issue—with my article—is now available to all ITA members on the ITA’s website. Members who also subscribe to the print version of the Journal will receive their copy later this month.

If you are not a member of the International Trombone Association, I’d like to encourage you to join. I’ve been a member of the ITA since its founding in 1972. I was a senior in high school at the time, and when I learned that the ITA had been established, I joined right away. Over the years, I’ve written many articles for the ITA Journal, have served on ITA committees, and have attended and presented at many International Trombone Festivals. I’m very grateful that the ITA bestowed its ITA Award on me in 2014, and its Lifetime Achievement Award in 2024. Members of the ITA receive the Association’s quarterly Journal, a regular e-newsletter, and stay connected with the world-wide community of trombonists. As soon as you join, you’ll have access to the current issue and the archive of past issues of the ITA Journal. This is a rich resource that informs our knowledge about trombone activities in the last half-century. The ITA also has a Facebook page where you can keep up to date on the latest activities of the Association and trombonists around the world.

The ITA has several levels of membership. Student membership is heavily discounted, and a further discount is applied if a member does not want to receive the print edition of the ITA Journal (all ITA members have access to the online version of the ITA Journal; it is an exact reproduction of the printed version). Discounts are also available for multi-year membership and 65+ year old membership, and lifetime membership is also available (I became a paid life member of the ITA in 1983). To learn more about all of the ITA’s membership levels and join the ITA, click HERE.

My article about Joannès Rochut is the longest article ever published in the ITA Journal. At 70 pages, with 80 images and 210 endnotes, I am deeply grateful for the commitment th ITA’s executive board to publish my article in nearly a double-sized (112 page) January 2025 issue of the ITA Journal. If you’ve ever played a vocalise by Marco Bordogni, own a copy of one of Rochut’s books, are interested in learning more about trombone teachers and students at the Paris Conservatoire in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, want to know more about the history of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, read about Rochut’s quest for the perfect trombone, or learn about Joannès Rochut’s other trombone publications and the students who studied trombone with him at New England Conservatory of Music (they include Ida Isabella Bisbee–the first woman to graduate from New England Conservatory with a degree in trombone performance—and John Coffey), you’ll find all that and more in my article. Here are a couple of sample pages from my article:

It’s all there—and more—on the International Trombone Association’s website, trombone.net, and members receive all of the benefits the Association has to offer.

I’m already at work on several more articles for the ITA Journal that will publish in late 2025 and early 2026. If you’re an ITA member, you’ll find them there when they publish. Stay tuned.

A busy autumn. And a thought.

By Douglas Yeo (November 11, 2024)

It has been a few months since I’ve posted anything to The Last Trombone and to those who have asked me why, it’s simply that I’ve been busy with other things. Busy with a lot of things. Here’s a quick update before I offer a thought on something else.

Douglas Yeo with members of the University of Illinois Marching Illini trombone section: Derrick Neal, Pablo Rosales, Douglas Yeo, Poorna Kumar (who, in addition to being a dual major in trombone performance and community health, is also a drum major for the Marching Illini), Jake Bae, Sam Murray, September 2024.

In September, my wife, Patricia, and I returned to the campus of University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign where I served as trombone professor from 2022–2024. We were there for homecoming and the Illinois football game against Central Michigan (the Illini won, 30–9). While there, I met up with several of my former students who are in the Marching Illini. I was so happy to see them again.

Douglas Yeo with Dr. Nathaniel Brickens and members of the University of Texas trombone studio, September 2024.

The next week, I spent a few days at University of Texas in Austin, in residence with the trombone studio of my good friend and UT’s trombone professor, Dr. Nathaniel Brickens. I always enjoy being at UT and working with its talented trombonists (and sporting a headpiece of the university’s mascot, Bevo, above).

In October, I traveled to San Francisco for a week where I played ophicleide with the superb early music group, Philharmonia Baroque. The conductor, Grete Pedersen, led us in a program that included the overture to Felix Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. What a joy it was to play under her leadership with this fine ensemble (I’ve been playing serpent and ophicleide with Philharmonia Baroque since 2009). While there, I visited the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco. It was my first time visiting these superb museums, and in addition to seeing iconic art by Auguste Rodin, Claude Seurat, Claude Monet, and many others, my eyes were opened at two special exhibitions of art by Mary Cassat and Tamara de Lempicka. Art old and new that inspires, soothes, and provokes.

A day after I returned home from San Francisco, I flew to Atlanta where played bass trombone with the Atlanta Symphony, substituting for a week on a program that included Serge Rachmaninoff’s Symphonic Dances conducted by Roderick Cox. While I was there, I was a guest for a session with Slide School, hosted by Atlanta Symphony acting principal trombonist, Nathan Zgonc, and Brian Hecht of the Dallas Symphony. I also had the happy opportunity to spend a lot of time working with the ASO’s two fellowship players, bass trombonist Jordan Johnson (who, a few days later, won the bass trombone position with Houston Grand Opera—bravo, Jordan!) and tubist Joshua Williams. I look forward to returning to the Atlanta Symphony for a few more weeks after the calendar turns to 2025.

Douglas Yeo in front of historic Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, October 2024.

While in Atlanta, I visited the Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. national historic site. In the book I co-authored with Kevin Mungons, Homer Rodeheaver and the Rise of the Gospel Music Industry (Rowman and Littlefield, 2021), we introduced Rodeheaver to readers with an opening chapter, Prologue, in which we described the 1917 Billy Sunday meetings in Atlanta (Homer Rodeheaver was Billy Sunday’s trombone-playing song leader for 20 years). To stand in front of and inside historic Ebenezer Baptist Church (where Dr. King, his father, and his father’s father-in-law all served as pastor, and where Dr. King’s mother, Alberta Williams King, was tragically murdered in 1974 while she was playing The Lord’s Prayer at the organ), to see the grave of Dr. King and his wife, Coretta Scott King, and imagine the huge temporary, wooden, 15,000 seat tabernacle that Billy Sunday erected on what is now the site of the historic site’s Visitor Center, was powerful, indeed.

Douglas and Patricia Yeo on the Fay Canyon trail, Sedona, Arizona, October 2024.

Right after I returned home from Atlanta, my wife, Patricia, and I spent a week in Arizona where we enjoyed some great hiking on spectacular trails in Sedona and Phoenix. After so many weeks of traveling with a trombone in my hand, it was nice to be together on the trail where the sky was blue, the rocks were orange and red, and the peacefulness and beauty of the Sonoran desert was on full display.

Excerpt from page 27 of the 1926 New England Conservatory of Music yearbook, The NEUME, showing Ida Isabella Bisbee, trombone student of Joannès Rochut. Courtesy of New England Conservatory of Music Archives.

My big project for this autumn was finishing my article about Joannès Rochut that will appear in the January 2025 International Trombone Association Journal. This is an article that has been nearly 40 years in the making. I’ve written a little about my research process for this article; read this post on The Last Trombone about my one day research trip to the Boston Symphony Orchestra archives in August of this year where I uncovered some important information about Rochut’s life and work. Rochut’s influence on the trombone—and brass—world has been remarkable, and in the course of my research, I learned so much about this iconic influencer in the trombone community. Including, thanks to the archives of New England Conservatory of Music, the fact that Rochut’s first student at NEC was Ida Isabella Bisbee, the first woman to graduate from NEC (in 1926) with a degree in trombone performance (above). I’m looking forward to receiving proofs very soon of what is expected to be an 80 page article in the Journal. Stay tuned.

And, overarching all of this in last few months is the tremendous joy I’ve had of playing trombone duets and trios with my granddaughter and her mom, our oldest daughter, Linda (who is a fine bass trombonist and low brass teacher). Our granddaughter, who is 10 years old, began playing trombone in May when I was at the International Trombone Festival. She loves playing the trombone—she’s good, too!—and in our little family of my wife and me, our two daughters and their husbands, and our two grandchildren, our granddaughter is the sixth brass player (and the fourth female brass player: Patricia plays baritone horn, Linda and and her daughter play trombone, and our other daughter, Robin, plays trumpet). Our grandson has told us he wants to play the tuba next year. When that happens, he will become the seventh brass player in our family.

All of these activities were and are fun, exciting, and rejuvenating. But then, there was also an event of momentous importance: the national election here in the United States that was held on November 5. In the midst of all that swirled around that impactful day, I was heartened when I received an email from Dr. Linda Moorhouse, Director of the School of Music at University of Illinois. On election day, she sent a message to all students, faculty, and staff in the School of Music with some helpful, sensible, and comforting thoughts on how to navigate this contentious election season and what follows. Her words, in a message titled, “Managing the Noise,” resonated deeply with me. Dr. Moorhouse wrote, in part:

As a School full of practicing musicians, we manage all kinds of noise every day. And outside of musical noise, we also know how the vast volume of information, opinions, and discussions can sometimes become overwhelming or disruptive.

I’m reaching out to remind you that you are a part of a School of Music community, and while this day and the next few days may be stressful, we are here for one another. Listed below are a few ways we can navigate the next few days and weeks together and keep our environment supportive and respectful:

Be Mindful of Election “Noise”
Staying informed is important, but the constant influx of election-related content can become a source of stress. Take breaks from social media, limit your news intake to trusted sources, and remember it’s okay to step away when things get to be too much. Giving ourselves space can help maintain balance.

Respect Diverse Perspectives
We all have different viewpoints shaped by our unique experiences, and recognizing this helps foster mutual respect. Election season is a celebration of our democratic process, and despite differing opinions, we can share in that respect for civic engagement. Supporting each other through this season means being thoughtful and considerate in our communications.

Practice Self-Care
Anxiety around election outcomes is normal. Be kind to yourself by setting aside time for things that bring you peace and comfort. Exercise, hobbies, meditation, or simply stepping away from the news cycle are great ways to maintain your emotional health.

Be Good to Each Other
Kindness goes a long way, especially in uncertain times. Small gestures of thoughtfulness and understanding can create a sense of community and support. Let’s check in on each other, be gentle in our interactions, and focus on the qualities that unite us rather than divide us.

One of the reasons I found Dr. Moorhouse’s words so impactful was the fact that a few weeks before her message arrived, a lunchtime conversation I had with a friend and an encounter with a sign I saw on my way home from that meeting got me thinking about some related things.

As a result, I wrote a short article for the blog hosted by my church, New Covenant Church of Naperville, Illinois. The article—it was published two days after the election, on November 7, 2024—is about the well-known and well-worn phrase from the Bible, “Love your neighbor.” I’ll let the article speak for itself. Have a look at the article—and the rest of the sign—HERE.

In a time where there is a lot of shouting, a lot of judging, a lot of anger, a lot of finger pointing; in a time when many people make assumptions about the motives and beliefs of others without taking the time to speak with and understand them; in a time when name calling and insulting others has risen to a harmful, toxic level; the admonition to “Love your neighbor” has, as I discovered on that day when I had lunch with a friend, some unexpected components. It got me thinking. Have a look at my article. Maybe that sign and its implications will prompt you to do some thinking, too.

The Last Trombone – Douglas Yeo