Since the book hit the market, it has received generous reviews and I’ve been heartened knowing that so many individuals and libraries have purchased the book. Here’s a sample of recent reviews:
To simply list all of the topics in this dictionary is not practical; however, suffice it to say that if a topic is not covered in this dictionary, it might not be worthy of investigation. . . Lennie Peterson’s illustrations are engaging and accurate. . . This is an excellent first step for reference or research. There are exhaustive references to outside sources for further study and the 13-page bibliography is perhaps the most comprehensive resource available. This is one of the books that should be on every teacher’s shelf and in every academic library. ~ International Trombone Association (2022)
This new resource is accessible to both beginning and experienced players and is thorough in its hundreds of listings, ranging from “a piacere” to “zugposaune.” . . I am thrilled to add this resource to my collection. I believe that it is a mandatory addition to the library of any low brass player and will be invaluable to any performer, educator, or student who is interested in taking a deep dive into the history and development of the tuba, euphonium or trombone. ~ International Tuba Euphonium Association Journal (2022)
Excellent illustrations created by Lennie Peterson, an award-winning artist and educator and a professional trombonist, enhance many entries. All in all, a fine overview of low brass instruments that will be valuable to novices and professionals alike. Summing up: Essential. Lower-division undergraduates through faculty and professionals; general readers. ~ Choice, the Journal for the Association of College and Research Libraries (2022)
Of all the people that could have been chosen for the task of creating a dictionary for the modern lowbrass player, Yeo is perhaps the most appropriate to undertake such a project. As a performer – having served as bass trombonist in the Boston Symphony Orchestra for nearly 30 years – and pedagogue – having held faculty positions at the New England Conservatory of Music, Boston University, the Peabody Institute of Johns Hopkins University, Arizona State University, and Wheaton College – his name is recognized and respected in the world of modern low brass. Additionally, he is a well-known champion for and practitioner of historical low brass instruments, which, with his practiced eye and knowledge of the history of these instruments, serves the dictionary and its readers well. His interest and yearning for knowledge are clearly the driving forces behind the volume’s success, making it an invaluable resource for any modern low-brass practitioners, students and teachers, amateurs and professionals. ~ Galpin Society Journal (2022)
[This book] offers an absorbing and comprehensive view of our instruments and their craft and lore. . . it is about the present-day instruments and their immediate past, but their predecessors are in here too and are treated respectfully and sympathetically. Douglas Yeo’s definitions and explanations are clear and concise, and the drawings by Lennie Peterson are elegant and surprisingly instructive. ~ Historic Brass Today (2023)
Here is a sample page from the book, with a few of the over 130 illustrations by my friend, Lennie Peterson:
An Illustrated Dictionary for the Modern Trombone, Tuba, and Euphonium Player by Douglas Yeo. Page 18 (part of the entry for bass trombone with illustrations by Lennie Peterson).
While I have been delighted with the reception to my Dictionary, it was initially released as a hard cover book with a price point that was higher than I hoped it would be. The price for the hard cover edition, $105, was set by the publisher, and with many people purchasing the book as a textbook, the price wasn’t out of line with a lot of similar texts. Still, I wished the price had been lower. I’d rather sell more copies of my books at a lower price than fewer copies at a higher price—for me, it’s about the ideas I’m putting out for people, not my royalty check.
So I was especially happy when, last year, my editor at Rowman & Littlefield told me that my Dictionary had been selected by the publisher to be reprinted in a paperback edition at a much lower price point. I was also very pleased when my editor told me that printing the book in a paperback edition meant I could make a few changes and corrections to my original text.
I’m glad to announce that the paperback edition of my An Illustrated Dictionary for the Modern Trombone, Tuba, and Euphonium Player is now available. The price is $50, half of the hard cover $105 price. You can purchase the hard cover ($105.00), the paperback ($50.00), and the Kindle edition ($47.50) on amazon.com.
But if you’d like to purchase the Dictionary for less, go to the page about my book on the Rowman & Littlefield website, HERE.
Once there, you can order the Dictionary, and when you check out, apply this discount code:
RLFANDF30
Doing so will give you a 30% discount on the book, bringing the cost of the paperback edition down to $35.00. That’s a savings I want readers to know about.
And I want to thank all readers who now have the book in their library. My Dictionary was a labor of love, and it makes me very happy to know that so many people are now exploring the same subjects I cover in the book that have fascinated me for so many years.
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.
I retired from the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 2012 after nearly 30 years as a member of that remarkable institution. I use the word institution because the BSO was more than an orchestra. Yes, the orchestra itself was the raison d’être for BSO Inc., but there was so much that flowed from the decision by Major Henry Higginson to establish a symphony orchestra in Boston in 1881. The Boston Symphony Orchestra, the Boston Pops Orchestra—which is the BSO minus most of its principal players—Symphony Hall in Boston, the BSO’s annual summer festival at Tanglewood, recordings, tours. It’s all part of the life I led for so many years and I am grateful that I was able to live my dream.
In the 11 years since I retired from the BSO, I’ve been engaged in a host of interesting and very rewarding activities. From recreational trips with my wife and other members of our family, to the joy of living near our grandchildren, to writing many books and articles, to teaching in several colleges/universities (Arizona State University, Wheaton College (Illinois), University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign), to serving now as interim music director at my church, New Covenant Church in Naperville, Illinois, my life is full and interesting. Yet while I left the full time symphony orchestra world in 2012, I’m still interested in it. Now, however, I’m mostly looking at it from the outside. And with this new perspective, I’m increasingly asking myself this question:
What is happening?
“Time,” as the hymn writer Isaac Watts reminded us in his great hymn, Our God, Our Help in Ages Past, is “like an ever-rolling stream.” Times change, things change. Nothing stays the same. It’s easy for someone at my season of life to look back at “the good old days” and assume the ways things were done back then were always better than they are today. Through an honest lens, I can say that some things were better. But not everything. And part of getting older is seeing things change and evaluating them in light of the ever-rolling stream of the passage of time.
As a college professor and one who now sits more frequently in the audience at concerts than on the stage, I am observing many trends in the performing arts. Many of these flow from current cultural mores, the evolution (and let’s remember that evolution of anything is not always for the better) of cultural thinking and operating. Recently, I’ve observed and heard about some things in the orchestra world that have me asking,
What is happening?
To wit, I recently:
Attended a concert by a certain professional symphony orchestra where a member of the ensemble—who did not play in the second movement of a piano concerto—took a large sheaf of yellow lined papers out from his tail coat pocket, crossed his legs, sat back in his chair, and proceeded to read the papers—shuffling the pages—for 10 minutes while the concert was going on around him.
Learned that a member of a certain professional symphony orchestra was recently dismissed because the member arrived late to a concert and had to conspicuously walk through the orchestra to get to the member’s seat in full view of the audience.
Saw a concert performed by a certain professional symphony orchestra where a player had a rough time with a long, exposed solo—I’m sympathetic to the problem; it can happen to anyone—and while he was missing notes all over the place, leaned back in his chair and kicked up his legs, making light of the situation.
Learned that a member of a certain professional orchestra was recently dismissed for being rude and insubordinate to the orchestra’s conductor and playing inappropriately loudly after repeatedly being asked to stop doing so during rehearsals and concerts.
Attended a concert by a certain professional symphony orchestra where a member of the brass section added many extra notes to his part, took several notes down an octave, and generally obliterated the orchestra with his crass, loud playing. And at the end of the concert, he smiled broadly.
Learned recently that the trombone section of a certain professional symphony orchestra is “the most hated section in the orchestra” because they play so loudly and out of context.
What is happening?
When I joined the Boston Symphony Orchestra in 1985, I was 30 years old. I was an experienced bass trombonist, having been a member of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra for four years, and having worked in New York City as a freelance player for five years. I was very aware of the storied history of the Boston Symphony, its long roster of celebrated music directors, and its unparalleled recorded legacy. I was also aware that Joannès Rochut, whose name is familiar to many of not most trombonists because of the three volumes of Melodious Etudes he arranged from works of Marco Bordogni, had been principal trombonist of the BSO from 1925–1930. I knew I was coming into something that had been around for over 100 years before me.
The Boston Symphony Orchestra has traditions. Tradition is a word that gets knocked about these days. Many people equate tradition with stuffiness, with a “dead” way of doing things. But that’s not the case if tradition is vibrant. For the 104 years before I joined the Boston Symphony, it had evolved to do things in particular ways. The sound of the orchestra was rich and lush, a sound that was enhanced by the fact that the orchestra played in one of the finest concert halls in the world, Symphony Hall, built in 1900.
Boston Symphony Orchestra low brass section: Ronald Barron, Norman Bolter, Douglas Yeo, Chester Schmitz. Symphony Hall, Boston, 2001.
At the time I joined the BSO, there were members in the orchestra who had been hired by the orchestra’s music director from 1924–1949, Serge Koussevitzky, and many more had been hired by Charles Munch, who was music director from 1949–1962. A member of the orchestra’s cello section had played with Glenn Miller’s orchestra during World War II and was part of Miller’s group at the time Miller died when his plane’s frozen carburetor caused it to crash into the English Channel on December 15, 1944. There were men in the orchestra who wore a jacket and tie to rehearsal. There were certain ways the orchestra played, and the expectation was that new players would come into the orchestra and add to that tradition by blending with the rest of the orchestra while adding one’s own musical personality in appropriate ways. It was exhilarating. There I was, sitting in the orchestra’s low brass section between Chester Schmitz—hands down the finest orchestral tuba player that I have ever heard—and Norman Bolter—who had joined the BSO at the age of 20, a prodigy of epic proportions. Ronald Barron headed our low brass section as principal trombonist. Principal bassoonist Sherman Walt, principal clarinetist Harold “Buddy” Wright, principal timpanist Everett “Vic” Firth—they were all there, plying their craft at the highest level. I sat, I played, I observed, I learned, and above all, I fit in. Fitting in required a measure of humility. It wasn’t just because I was “the young guy” and I needed to wait my turn. No, this was normal, usual operating procedure. The goal of the entire orchestra was to present a unified musical product. And we did.
Members of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra brass section. Back row: Adolph Herseth, trumpet; James Gilbertson, Jay Friedman (with euphonium), Frank Crisafulli, Edward Kleinhammer, Arnold Jacobs. Orchestra Hall, Chicago, 1972. Photo courtesy of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra Archives.
I learned the importance of this when I was an undergraduate student at Wheaton College. I studied with Edward Kleinhammer, the celebrated bass trombonist of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra from 1940–1985. In 1975, my wife and I attended a CSO performance of Richard Strauss’ Eine Alpensinfonie. I had never heard the piece before I heard it at that concert (imagine a time in the world’s history where there was only one recording of Strauss’ epic work—and I had not heard it) and I was stunned by the piece and the CSO’s performance. After the concert, my wife and I waited for Mr. Kleinhammer to come up the stairs from the basement of Orchestra Hall and when he arrived at the lobby landing, I blathered away about how amazing he was in the concert. He looked at me with a penetrating stare and then said, “If you heard me, I was a failure. You shouldn’t have heard a fourth trombone player. You should have heard a great orchestra.” And he walked away. I was stunned.
The next day I had a lesson with Mr. Kleinhammer where he unpacked his comment. He told me I was listening to the wrong things. That Eine Alpensinfonie was not all about the fourth trombone player—or the trombones at all. Yes, there were moments when the trombones had a melodic line. But for most of the piece, they worked in community, supporting other instruments. Mr. Kleinhammer told me, “Douglas, it’s not about me. It’s about the MUSIC.” It was at that moment that scales fell from my eyes. I was intoxicated with the trombone section and I missed the orchestra. I had lost the forest for the trees.
And, as God can only do because He is God, I came home from that lesson and opened my Bible and read something that got my attention and changed my life. In the book of First Corinthians, the Apostle Paul wrote about the church, and how a healthy church should be and act. He wrote (1 Corinthians 12:14–27, English Standard Version):
For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.
The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.
Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.
It was at that moment I understood the flaw in my musical thinking. I realized that playing the trombone in an orchestra was not about me. It was not about showing anyone else what I could do, it was not about strutting my stuff, it was not about calling attention to myself. The Apostle Paul’s metaphor for the proper working of the Church—the human body and all of its diverse parts, each of which has a unique function—was a metaphor for the proper working of ANY group of people. A friendship, a marriage, a football team, a business, a church. And a symphony orchestra.
It was then that I distilled Paul’s words into a phrase that I have repeated countless times to my students and colleagues (just ask them; they’ll tell you I say this frequently):
All members of the orchestra are equally important, but at any given moment, all members of the orchestra are not equally prominent.
This is what a symphony orchestra should be about. Each member is equally important. Whether playing the melody, or an underlying rhythmic figure, or soft whole notes, every part is equally important. Just like every part of the body. But when I have long soft notes to play, they are not as prominent as the melody played by the first oboe player. The fact that the oboist has the melody in no way diminishes my contribution at that moment. And if, at the end of the concert, the conductor asks the oboe player to stand up and take a bow and the conductor does not ask me to do so, that is fine, and I will join in the applause for my colleague. Because my oboist colleague was more prominent than I was. It wasn’t about me. It’s about the MUSIC.
If I had made it about me—if I had played my whole notes in a manner that brought attention to myself while obliterating the oboe player’s solo—I would have ruined the performance. So, I committed myself to being a team player, to being part of the body that is the symphony orchestra, and to understanding my role in the greater whole. And this I did—and do—in the service of the MUSIC.
Header graphic and title for Douglas Yeo’s article, “Me, Myself, and I—Are Orchestral Brass Players Losing the Concept of Being Team Players? International Trombone Association Journal, Vol. 25, No. 1, Winter 1997, 21–23.
In 1997, I wrote an article on this subject that was published in the International Trombone Association Journal (Vol. 25, No. 1, Winter 1997); it was subsequently republished in the Tubists Universal Brotherhood Association Journal—the organization has since changed its name to International Tuba Euphonium Association—(Vol. 24, No. 3, Summer 1997). My article was titled, “Me, Myself, and I: Are Orchestral Brass Players Losing the Concept of Being Team Players?” I wrote it in response to a trend I was observing—the very trend that, 26 years later, I am speaking about in this present blog post on The Last Trombone—where I sensed that students and colleagues were beginning to shift from working together to create a unified whole in performance to wanting to stand out and be noticed. A few months later, my friend Gene Pokorny, tubist with the Chicago Symphony, penned a response to my article that was published in the T.U.B.A. Journal in its Winter 1998 issue (Vol. 25, No. 2) in which he echoed and supported my arguments. You can read my article and excerpts from Gene’s response on my website, HEREand Gene’s whole article HERE.
Which brings me back to my question:
What is happening?
As Gene said in his article:
It may be inexperience which dictates some players to not be part of the team on stage but in many cases it is CHOICE. There are many venerable professionals out there who know how to be ensemble players but, for whatever reasons, choose to not be part of the group. Some of it is carelessness, but some of it is choosing to “get back” at a conductor, make a point to a player on stage, impress some friend in the audience, etc. Whatever the reason, the choice of not playing together with everybody else on stage is a mistake in which everybody pays for somebody else’s lack of maturity. . .
Yet, here we are in 2023, and I’m writing about this again. As I observe the ongoing evolution of musical art, I am seeing more, not less of this tendency to promote one’s self at the expense of the whole. As the examples at the top of this article show so clearly, the “me first” attitude, the “it’s all about me” attitude, the “who are you to tell me what to do” attitude is on display. Players want their students to think of them as “monster” players. A monster? How about being a great trombonist who understands the role of your part in the greater whole? How about some humility? How about an understanding of the difference between importance and prominence? And how about some respect for the music, for your colleagues, for the audience, and for the tradition and history of the ensemble of which you are a part, and to be, as Gene said in his article, “a cog in the wheel” instead of “the nut behind the wheel”? Nobody—including me—does this perfectly. But can this be the goal, the aspiration, something to strive for, and can we talk about this with—even call out— those whose inherent selfishness ruins concerts on a regular basis?
There are things to learn from the way things used to be done. From from our teachers, from the teachers of our teachers, from the people in the jackets and ties. Last week, I was talking with a friend about this ongoing trend of individual players who play in order to be heard and noticed rather than playing in order to support the whole product. Like me, he studied bass trombone with Edward Kleinhammer, and my friend I and frequently talk about the state of the modern symphony orchestra. In a series of text messages last week, he offered:
I miss the old days and our old role models.
Why is the easy stuff SO HARD for some people?
God love you, Ed Kleinhammer.
To which I replied,
Preach it, brother.
Last night, when I was reading my Bible, I turned to this passage (Jeremiah 6:16, English Standard Version) that reminds us of something very important. It starts off with words of wisdom but then observes the response of many people:
Thus says the Lord: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’”
The ancient paths. The good way. There is a lot we can learn from them. When it comes to playing the trombone, I learned about them from Edward Kleinhammer, and I have tried to emulate his spirit of being a team player throughout my career. My students have heard this from me through my over 40 years of college teaching. There are many players who understand the Apostle Paul’s metaphor of the body and how it perfectly shows us how each of us is valuable and important to any task as long as we understand our role. But there are also many who are hung up on themselves and who ruin music and music making because of their unwillingness to be a team player. Guess what? People are noticing you. Just like the music critic who noticed the trombone section when he heard a certain professional symphony orchestra perform Richard Strauss’ Also Sprach Zarathustra (New York Times, February 15, 1995; review by Alex Ross):
The trombones, who had been emitting ghastly sounds all night, blared too loudly in the “Zarathustra” fanfare, obliterating the top trumpet line.
Yes. You’re noticed.
Will you join me and many others—like Edward Kleinhammer, who taught so many of us about this—in walking “where the good way is”? It’s not all about you. It’s not all about me. It’s about the MUSIC.
Readers of The Last Trombone know that I have been serving as the trombone professor at University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign (UIUC) since summer 2022. In May of last year, the University’s former trombone professor abruptly announced he was retiring and I agreed to fill in for a year while the UIUC School of Music conducted a search for a new full-time trombone professor. Unfortunately, that search was not successful, and I have come back for another year (2023–2024) while another search is mounted. That new search has just been announced—the chair of the trombone professor position search is Dr. Kevin Geraldi, Director of Bands at UIUC; he is also a trombonist—and details about the position and how to apply may be found HERE. The job description is also found below in this article, and I’d like to encourage readers of The Last Trombone to pass on this information to anyone they know who might be interested in applying to be the next professor of trombone at UIUC. The deadline for applications is November 8—a month from now—and the position begins on August 16, 2024.
Since I arrived at University of Illinois, I have been working to develop a vibrant esprit de corps among my students, and a big part of that has been the reinvigoration of the transformative legacy of Dr. Robert E. Gray (1926–2008) who was trombone professor at UIUC from 1955–1991. Dr. Gray, who also served as President of the International Trombone Association from 1984–1986, was a remarkable person and teacher whose work continues to be remembered today by the many students, faculty members, and other individuals whose lives intersected with his. Dr. Gray was interested in much more than teaching trombone; he was interested in the education of the whole student. His teaching philosophy resonates with my own and his legacy is an important part of what we are about in the UIUC Trombone Studio.
The cover of the Winter 1992 International Trombone Association Journal, featuring a photograph of Dr. Robert E. Gray
I’ve installed a large poster on a wall in my studio at University of Illinois and my students face it as they have their weekly lessons with me. It features our fantastic UIUC Trombone Studio logo that my friend, Lennie Peterson (who also illustrated my newest book, An Illustrated Dictionary for the Modern Trombone, Tuba, and Euphonium Player) designed for me (I’ve had t-shirts and stickers with the logo made up for our trombone students). The poster also includes the five core principles of my teaching, and it has an inspiring quotation from Robert E. Gray that I have adopted in my work as a teacher. This is the artistic, musical, teaching, and learning ethos that the next trombone professor at University of Illinois will occupy.
Another look at the culture I have established at University of Illinois can be found in my trombone studio syllabus. Click HERE to view and download a copy of my Fall 2023 trombone syllabus. Of course, our new trombone teacher will create their own syllabus with their own goals and requirements, but this is where our UIUC trombone studio is today. More than simply listing the requirements for taking trombone lessons, my syllabus speaks into the what and why of what we are doing. It is thrilling for me to be part of this vibrant campus community at this time and I look forward to handing the UIUC trombone studio to our next full-time trombone professor. UIUC—the flagship University of the State of Illinois—has a large, beautiful campus, a diverse student body and faculty, and everything that comes with being part of the Big 10 athletic conference, including UIUC’s outstanding marching band, the Marching Illini.
We are moving quickly to fill this position. We would like to have someone hired and an announcement of that hire happen as soon as possible so the announcement of our new trombone professor can impact our upcoming recruiting and admissions cycle for fall 2024. Our students—and I—are looking forward to this search process. This is a tremendous opportunity for the right person, and for our students.
Is this position for you? Or someone you know? Let us know, and GO ILLINI!
The statue of Alma Mater by Laredo Taft, on the campus of University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign
• • •
Clinical Assistant/Associate/Full Professor of Trombone
University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign College of Fine and Applied Arts School of Music
Located on the campus of one of the world’s leading research universities, the University of Illinois School of Music is a center for creativity and collaboration through performance, research, and education. Hosting a diverse population of faculty, students, and staff, the School of Music embraces cutting-edge innovation and discovery while providing an array of musical and engagement opportunities within the artistic and educational communities of Urbana and Champaign.
The UIUC School of Music invites applications for a one-year, full-time, open rank, non-tenure-track position for Clinical Assistant/Associate/Full Professor of Trombone. Appointments will be for the 2024-25 academic year and begin August 16, 2024. Renewal of the appointment is possible and contingent on availability of funding, sufficient enrollments, and positive performance reviews. Salary is commensurate with experience.
Responsibilities:
We seek a dynamic, effective, and engaging artist-teacher with a record of high-level performances to teach undergraduate and graduate trombone students in all degree and diploma programs. This includes weekly lessons for each student, a weekly trombone studio class, and graduate-level trombone literature and pedagogy classes. Additional teaching responsibilities will be based on the secondary area(s) of expertise. Successful candidates will pursue an active recruiting program that includes building relationships with schools and private teachers statewide, other universities, and national/international organizations.
Other responsibilities include working collaboratively with faculty and staff across the School to expand engagement opportunities in Illinois school systems and to nurture young performers and assist with School recruiting efforts. Active participation in all events and programs where the visibility of the University of Illinois faculty can serve as an asset for recruiting and/or student success and morale is expected. Service responsibilities include committee work and other activities that benefit the School and its students. Evidence of success in teaching, recruiting, and service is required for possible renewal of this appointment.
All employees of the School of Music are also expected to embrace the following core ideals:
Demonstrate a commitment to building and sustaining a diverse, equitable, and inclusive environment, one that reflects the entire State of Illinois.
Support the University of Illinois’ dedication to being a community of care.
Demonstrate a commitment to student success and well-being through both teaching excellence and broader mentorship.
Seek out opportunities for collaboration with colleagues both on and off campus, and both within and across disciplines.
View recruiting and retention, particularly of members of underserved communities, as fundamental to the position and to the School’s success.
Work as a cooperative member of the School’s community and serve as a model of integrity and collegiality.
Exhibit passion for your work, the School, and the role of music in our society.
Required Qualifications:
Artist/Teacher with an emerging or established national reputation as a performer and pedagogue.
Successful teaching experience at the university level.
Knowledge of pathways by which students discover the instrument and demonstrated experience attracting, recruiting, and retaining undergraduate and graduate students, particularly those from underrepresented populations.
Evidence of clearly defined secondary area(s) of expertise, such as music entrepreneurship, improvisation, intercultural collaboration, community engagement, pedagogy, musicianship, chamber music, health and wellness, and/or orchestra and/or wind band repertoire courses.
History of engagement with diverse audiences, collaborators, knowledges, and traditions with respect to race, gender, and class.
History of engagement with works by BIPOC, LGBTQ+, and women composers, including new pieces from living composers.
Experience performing and/or teaching multiple musical styles, including those other than classical traditions.
Master’s degree in music or commensurate experience.
Preferred Qualifications:
Orchestral and/or professional wind band experience.
Chamber coaching experience.
Classroom teaching experience at the university level.
Demonstrated record of student placement and success.
Facility with new technologies and platforms for recording, creating, and distributing music.
Evidence of an innovative research profile that engages with diverse audiences.
Doctoral degree in music.
Application Procedures & Deadline Information:
Applications must be received by 6:00 pm (CST) on November 8, 2023. Apply for this position using the Apply Now button at the top or bottom of this posting. Applications not submitted through https://jobs.illinois.edu will not be considered. Initial screening of applications will begin immediately, and interviews may be conducted prior to the close of the search. However, no hiring decision will be made until after the close of the search.
Application materials should include:
Letter of interest, including a section that provides hyperlinks or URLs for online audio or audio/video files of recent live or recorded performances.
Curriculum Vitae.
Diversity and inclusion statement, including relevant experience reaching underserved communities and vision for the social role of music in the 21st century
Names and contact information of three references.
Please direct any questions to Associate Professor Kevin Geraldi, Search Committee Chair (kgeraldi@illinois.edu) or Jennifer Steiling, Sr. Human Resource Associate (steiling@uillinois.edu). Women, racial and ethnic minorities, individuals with disabilities, and veterans are encouraged to apply.
For questions regarding the application process, please contact 217-333-2137.
The University of Illinois System is an equal opportunity employer, including but not limited to disability and/or veteran status, and complies with all applicable state and federal employment mandates. Please visit Required Employment Notices and Posters to view our non-discrimination statement and find additional information about required background checks, sexual harassment/misconduct disclosures, COVID-19 vaccination requirement, and employment eligibility review through E-Verify.
Applicants with disabilities are encouraged to apply and may request a reasonable accommodation under the Americans with Disabilities Act (2008) to complete the application and/or interview process. Requests may be submitted through the reasonable accommodations portal, or by contacting the Accessibility & Accommodations Division of the Office for Access and Equity at 217-333-0885, or by emailing accessibility@illinois.edu.
The Last Trombone – Douglas Yeo 