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.
Readers of TheLastTrombone will remember that in May/June 2023, I traveled to Arizona State University to take part in the 50th Anniversary International Tuba Euphonium Conference. The conference, sponsored every other year by the International Tuba Euphonium Association, was hosted by my good friend, Deanna Swoboda, tuba professor at ASU. While there, I gave a presentation about the Native American Sousaphone player John Kuhn and I also played a recital of music that featured that most unusual of musical instruments, the serpent.
Finding a practice room at a conference can be challenging, so I warmed up before my recital outside the Arizona State University music building. Photo by Tom Hentschel.
Douglas Yeo, serpent, in performance with pianist Susan Wass, piano. Katzin Concert Hall, Arizona State University. Photo by Tom Hentschel.
The ITEC serpent concert was a happy success thanks to the collaborative artists who worked with me on the program. Our concert included two works for serpent and piano on which Susan Wass accompanied me on piano, and two works for a small chamber group of wind instruments.
In rehearsal with Curtis Sellers and Martin Schuring, oboe; Josh Gardner and Stefanie Gardner, clarinet; Jason Caslor, conductor (standing), Bailey Hendley, horn; Jamal Duncan, conductor (standing); Isabella Kolasinski, horn; Albie Micklich, bassoon; Harrison Cody, bassoon (standing); Michelle Fletcher, bassoon; Douglas Yeo, serpent. Katzin Concert Hall, Arizona State University.
As you can see from the microphones in the photos above, our concert was recorded by Central Sound at Arizona PBS. I’ve had an affiliation with Central Sound since 2016 when I began working for the weekly radio show, Arizona Encore, broadcast on KBAQ-FM, Phoenix, every Tuesday evening at 7:00. The show is also available on demand on the Arizona PBS website. I started my work for the show when my wife and I lived in Arizona (I wrote about this on TheLastTrombone on September 23, 2016) and I’ve continued to host the show periodically since we moved to the Chicago area in 2018. I enjoy researching and writing the scripts and recording the shows, and in the process, I’ve learned a lot about many superb performers and the music they play.
When our ITEC serpent recital was packaged for an Arizona Encore show, my producer asked if I would write the script and host the program. Yes! And I’m happy to say the program, which was first broadcast on KBAQ-FM on December 5, 2023, is now available on the Arizona Encore page on the Arizona PBS website. Click HERE or click the image above to go to the Arizona Encore serpent program page and hear the show. Here is the playlist for the show, that, in addition to three pieces from my serpent recital at ITEC 2023, includes a performance by the University of Southern California Thornton School of Music Wind Ensemble:
• Ingolf Dahl – Sinfonietta – University of Southern California – Thornton Wind Ensemble; Robert Reynolds, conductor
I. Introduction and Rondo
II. Pastoral Nocturne
III. Dance Variations
• Clifford Bevan – Variations on “The Pesky Sarpent” – Douglas Yeo, serpent; Susan Wass, piano
• attributed to Joseph Haydn – Divertimento in B-flat (Chorale St. Antoni), Hob. II/46 – Joshua Gardner and Stefanie Gardner, clarinet; Albie Micklich, Michelle Fletcher, and Harrison Cody, bassoon; Isabella Kolasinski and Bailey Hendley, horn; Douglas Yeo, serpent; Jamal Duncan, conductor.
I. Allegro con spirito
II. Andante
III. Menuetto
IV. Rondo-Allegretto
• Johann Neopmuk Hummel – Partita in E-flat – Martin Schuring and Curtis Sellers, oboe; Joshua Gardner and Stefanie Gardner, clarinet; Albie Micklich, Michelle Fletcher, bassoon; Isabella Kolasinski and Bailey Hendley, horn; Douglas Yeo, serpent; Jason Caslor, conductor.
I. Allegro con spirito
II. Andante piu tosto-Allegretto
III. Vivace assai
Have a listen and enjoy a foray into the world of the serpent, an instrument that’s so old it’s new.
Performance of the Partita in E-flat of Johann Nepomuk Hummel – Joshua Gardner and Stefanie Gardner, clarinet; Isabella Kolasinski and Bailey Hendley, horn; Albie Micklich, Michelle Fletcher, and Harrison Cody, bassoon; Douglas Yeo, serpent; Jamal Duncan, conductor. Katzin Concert Hall, Arizona State University. Photo by Tom Hentschel.
Last week was homecoming at University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, where I am currently serving as the School of Music’s trombone professor through the 2023–2024 academic year. Homecoming is an annual tradition that dates back further than anyone can remember, and most colleges and universities hold the same tradition. It’s a time for alumni to come back to campus, there’s usually an important football game on the weekend, a parade, and school colors—orange and blue—are everywhere.
Sign promoting University of Illinois homecoming, outside of the University’s Native American House.
University of Illinois Bookstore, October 18, 2023.
I’ve always enjoyed school spirit. While it hasn’t always been evident in some of the schools where I’ve taught, I’ve taught at two schools that have exceptional school spirit. When I was professor of trombone at Arizona State University (2012-2016), school spirit was everywhere. Everyone—everyone—wore gear in ASU maroon and gold. You just did that. The same is true at University of Illinois. The campus bleeds orange and blue. Not just at homecoming weekend, but year round.
I’m a part of this. I think school spirit is important (more on why I feel that way in a moment). So I fly the flag. My office is full of reminders of University of Illinois, particularly the orange block “I” that permeates campus life. “The Power of I” is the slogan. Not “I” as in “me, myself, and I,” but “I” as a representative of University of Illinois and its community. Look at these photos of my office at Illinois that I took last week. You can engage in a little game of “Where’s Waldo?” and find all of the “I” in my office. I made it easy for you; they’re circled in red.
Nine Illinois I in this photo of my desk.
Five Illinois I in this photo of a wall in my office.
Four Illinois I in this photo of the door to my office.
We even put the Illinois block “I” on our computer keyboards:
You get the idea. I promote Illinois orange and blue and the Illinois I because I am proud to be a member of the University of Illinois community and in this, I show solidarity with my students, alumni, and all who have ever been associated with the University. And there is that word: Community.
Foellinger Auditorium on the quad at University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
If you read my article on The Last Trombone that I posted on October 25, 2023, “What is happening? It’s not all about you. Or about me. It’s about the music.”, you saw that word there, too. Community. In that article, I talked about the fact that as trombonists, we work in community with other members of orchestras, bands, and other ensembles. We do not act as individuals—even when we have a solo. Everything we do is contextualized by our working in community. We work together. All parts of the community are always equally important, but not all members of the community are always as prominent as others at any given moment. There is a difference between importance and prominence. On a college campus as large as University of Illinois—44,000 students on campus—it might seem difficult to get your arms around the fact that we are all part of the same community. It’s true that none of us know everyone on campus, but we are part of the same community. We walk the same halls, we cross the same quad in the center of campus, and we all wear the Illinois “I.” We are bound together by our place, our purpose, and our sense of belonging.
The University of Illinois student section and Marching Illini at Memorial Stadium, Champaign, Illinois, October 21, 2023.
When my wife, Patricia, and I attended the Illinois/Wisconsin football game last Saturday, we sat in a section of the stadium where we did not know a single person by name. Yet we were bound together with those that were around us by the fact that we were all part of the Illinois community. We cheered the team, we cheered the Marching Illini, we cheered the alumni band, we cheered for Red Grange and George Halas and Dick Butkus, storied alumni of University of Illinois who went on to play for the Chicago Bears. I looked over at the packed student section that held up cards to make the Illinois “I” while the Marching Illini played the University’s fight song, “Oskee Wow-Wow.” When, the next day, Pat and I attended the Chicago Bears/Oakland Raiders game at Soldier Field in Chicago, I wore my Red Grange jersey on which Pat had sowed a University of Illinois patch. I brought “The Power of I” to Soldier Field with my Red Grange jersey.
The University of Illinois patch I have on my Chicago Bears Red Grange #77 jersey.
When we were recently in Florence, Italy (where Pat and I celebrated our 48th wedding anniversary and enjoyed a week of Renaissance art, churches, parks, and remarkable food), we were walking down a street when I heard, I-L-L! I was wearing a University of Illinois hat at the time and anyone who is part of that community knows that when someone says, I-L-L! the proper response is, I-N-I! There I was, nearly 5000 miles away from home, and “The Power of I” was at work. The same thing happens on hiking trails. Wearing school gear—a hat, a shirt, a sweatshirt, a backpack—identifies you as part of a community and it is a badge that reaches out to others who share the same connection with that place that you have. People you had never met before stop and talk with you about that connection. It’s happened to us many, many times. On a hiking trail in the middle of nowhere, you belong to something bigger than yourself. You belong to a community.
This is why I think school spirit is so great. In a time where it seems that “It’s all about ME,” school spirit says, “It’s all about US.” Community pushes against selfishness. Community pushes against self-centered individualism. Community brings us together, and school spirit is an important part of bringing people together.
John Donne wrote about this in his memorable Meditation CVII from his Devotions upon Emergent Occasions (1624). Donne, in a masterstroke of memorable prose, wrote:
No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
We are dependent upon one another, connected to one another, and our individual uniqueness is part of a greater whole. When we are together, we can do things we can’t do when we’re alone. School spirit is about togetherness, about belonging. It pushes against selfishness and “it’s all about me.” “The Power of I” is about “it’s all about us.” That’s why I like school spirit.
I-L-L!
I think I hear someone answering, I-N-I!
The statue of Alma mater by Laredo Taft, on the campus of University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. Alma mater is surrounded by representations of labor and learning.
The Last Trombone – Douglas Yeo 