Getting to talk with composer and pianist Marga Richter has been one of the most delightful experiences to come out of creating the anthology. This feisty, 80-something-year-old is an active woman of strong opinions and great humor. Our phone conversations since 2008 have covered moving to a new house (after being on the roof fixing the old one), many forceful and entertaining political discussions, worry for a bassoonist friend’s recovery from Bell’s palsy and talk about her latest compositions. She is an inspiration who has come to be known as “Aunt Marga” to said bassoonist and I.

Professionally, Ms. Richter has had a career marked by honors and successes both in America and abroad. Her work in the 1950’s and 1960’s, notable in itself, also helped pave the way for later women composers such as Ellen Taaffe Zwilich and Joan Tower. She has received grants, awards and commissions from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Martha Baird Rockefeller Fund, the National Federation of Music Clubs, Meet-the-Composer and ASCAP.  Her 1964 ballet, Abyss, was commissioned by the Harkness Ballet and performed in most of the major cities of Europe and North and South America during the next few years. It has since been added to the repertoires of the Joffrey and Boston Ballet Companies. Ms. Richter’s compositions have been played by over 45 orchestras throughout the world, including the Minnesota Orchestra, the Milwaukee and Atlanta Symphonies, and the London Philharmonic. She has written of her work, “Visual experiences and nature are the primary inspirations for Marga Richter's music. Sources as varied as the paintings of Georgia O'Keeffe, a New England winter scene and the exotic landscape of Tibet have all served to trigger the composer's creative responses.” Her music has a unique sound, frequently dissonant and always intriguing. You can find much more information, including a works list, at www.margarichter.com.

Richter studied piano with Roslyn Turek, and composition with Vincent Persichetti and William Bergsma at Juilliard, receiving a Master’s Degree in 1951. In a lovely note she sent me dated September 26, 2008, Richter wrote, “I arrived in Manhattan, NEW YORK, 65 years ago today, after a Greyhound bus trip from Robbinsdale, MN. It was a glorious sunny day and like stepping into a whole new world, with mother, brother, dog and Steinway upright in tow!” The whole family relocated so that Marga could pursue her dreams halfway across the country. Her life is now the subject of a full-scale biography by Sharon Mirchandani, published by the University of Illinois Press. 

In our first conversation about the Three Pieces for Violin and Piano, she first blurted out, “Where on earth did you find that thing?” Richter had written the work during the Kennedy administration, after hearing that Kennedy’s press secretary (Pierre Salinger) had a young son who played violin. She thought he might like to play something different, so wrote it and sent it off. Other than receiving a letter of thanks on White House stationary, nothing more happened with it for forty or so years. I found it listed in the New England Conservatory library, the manuscript presumably donated by the Salinger family. In that same 2008 note, Richter wrote, “[I] am very happy that my Three Pieces will see the light of day.” Happy to oblige!

I really wanted to include a piece that would be a great introduction to more contemporary harmonies and mixed meters before the last volume of the anthology. The Three Pieces are largely playable in first and third position, but feature asymmetrical and mixed meters (the first movement mostly alternating 7/8 and 4/4 measures) and dissonance. The violin part is quite fun to play, especially the driving first movement with a somewhat primal eighth-note brush stroke motif. One word of warning—the piano part is very difficult! In particular, the third movement necessitates a slower tempo than the violin part seems to indicate. The pianist is generally twice the speed of the violinist, with a great deal of chromaticism and tricky rhythms.

As a challenge to that brainy kid, and an ear-opening first exposure to “mid-century modern” music, check Marga Richter’s Three Pieces for Violin and Piano. You’ll be glad you did!

I have to admit to a certain fascination with the early 20th century. The clothes! The changing times! All things Downton Abbey! And of course, the professional female violinists breaking new ground in their era. Irma Seydel (1896-?) was one of those young women, achieving virtuoso status and making her way as a concert soloist at least into the 1920's.

Seydel was helped along by having a father in the Boston Symphony, who started her on the violin at the age of three. She studied with the renowned violinist, composer, and teacher Charles Martin Loeffler from the age of ten, and later on made the obligatory "finishing" trip to study in Europe (though I have not discovered with whom she studied). Seydel clearly progressed rapidly, and in 1909, at the age of 13, she was soloist with the Gurzenich Orchestra in Cologne. During her career, she was to perform with the Berlin, Leipzig, and Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. In America she appeared with the New York Philharmonic, the Chicago, San Francisco, Philadelphia and Baltimore Symphonies, and multiple times with the Boston Symphony.

Seydel often performed the Saint-Saens B minor Concerto, including its premiere performance with the San Francisco Symphony in 1913. The reviewer for that concert wrote, "The youthful virtuoso has spirit, vigor and sympathy. She plays with faultless Intonation and exhibits a rare capacity for expression. She was recalled for two encores, playing Schumann's immortal 'Traumerei' exquisitely."

World War I disrupted Seydel's plans for another European tour, but she stayed active on the home front. The Musical Courier of 1918 (from which this picture was snagged) reported that she "has proved herself as great a patriot as she is an artist," spending two months that summer playing for soldiers and the wounded at various forts and a naval hospital. "Although there were no printed programs," the article continues, "Miss Seydel always played until long after 'lights out in the barracks' on some of the islands. The well-liked violinist and her accompanist, Edna Stoessel, both charming girls, were entertained and chaperoned by Y.M.C.A. men, and created much enthusiasm wherever they appeared."

Seydel also made appearances drumming up business for the Edison Musical Instrument Company. An ad in the May 12, 1918 Reading (PA) Eagle, the Metropolitan Phonograph Company announced a concert at the Rajah Theater in which Seydel, Marie Morrisey (contralto with the Metropolitan opera), and cellist Jack Glockner would "sing and play with and without the Edison, for the purpose of comparison-- see if you discern one from the other." Seydel recorded Kreisler's Liebeslied on an Edison wax cylinder, and later two 78 records (Beethoven Minuet in G and D'Ambrosia Canzonetta). Syracuse University has made an mp3 of the Kreisler recording available here. I love technology! You can hear that, like Kreisler, she uses an almost continuous vibrato. Her approach to rubato and slides are quite conservative for the time. The recording is dated as from 1924.

Seydel married in 1921, an event which seems to have been undertaken in haste. A notice in the March 26 Musical America is headlined, "Waives Five Days Clause When Musician Marries in Boston." The spouse was one William Dunbar, "a member of the theatrical profession." I don't know how long the union lasted, or whether or not it provided wedded bliss, but maybe it's not a good sign that Seydel registered a piece entitled "Dirge" for copyright a few months later. She never took his name professionally, at any rate.

In the late 1920's, Seydel served as concertmaster with the Boston Women's Symphony. She taught violin and solfeggi, possibly at the New England Conservatory, from 1920 to 1937, and is listed in a document of new Department of Music hires for Boston schools in 1946. It seems her concertizing reached at end sometime in the 1930's. 

Besides the Bijou Minuet in Volume Two and the Minuet in Volume One, I looked at two other compositions by Seydel. Valley of Dreams and A Sunset Picture were both copyright in 1927, and are significant departures from the earlier minuets. Somewhat impressionistic in character, both were more dissonant and dreamy. I remember not liking either one very much, but now I wish I could to review them again and see I what I think.

Bijou Minuet suited the need for a straightforward, entertaining piece in 1st and 3rd position. Of technical note is the bowing in the A section, which could be treated as either elementary upbow staccato/hooked bowing, or as "standing spiccato"-- upbow circle lifts that don't travel. The scalar motion in the outer sections lends itself very nicely to learning note/finger placement in 3rd position, in everyone'a favorite key of D major. The trio spices things up a bit with chromatic 16ths on many downbeats. I used the "modern" chromatic fingering rather than sliding fingers. In several spots, a shift is required from open A or E to the 3rd finger in 3rd position. Students can test their growing feel for the location of 3rd position with these "leaps of faith!" Alternations between forte and piano dynamics about every two measures provides great fodder for work on sound and bow control. For it's 48 measures, Seydel's Bijou Minuet supplies plenty of meaty technique to keep a student satisfied!

Yesterday, while cruising along the lanes of the internet, I stumbled on a website with digitized covers and selected articles from The Etude magazine (etudemagazine.com). For those of you who might not have encountered it, this was an informational and promotional magazine published by Theodore Presser Company. It is a great documentary source for prevailing attitudes towards music, teaching music, and musicians, and was published from 1887 to 1957. After searching “violin” in the articles, I was rewarded with a few early articles pertaining to women and orchestra playing. Chuckling my way through the silly, antiquated opinions on the unsuitability of women’s constitutions for the grueling work of orchestral playing, I thought about how wonderful that these ideas are behind us. Here are a few samples:

Woman’s Position in the Violin World, September. 1901

“Many stern, unyielding critics of to-day refuse to believe that a woman is capable of achieving greatness as a player of the violin. These critics, both professional and amateur, concede woman’s fitness to accomplish agreeable things as players of the king of instruments, but they are unwilling to believe that she possesses either the mental qualifications or the physical strength and endurance to enable her successfully to compete with man in the mastery of violin-technics. Time alone will decide whether these critics are right.

On the other hand, it cannot be denied that, where the higher art of violin-playing is concerned, the average gifted woman labors under certain great disadvantages which too often prove fatal, insurmountable barriers to success. How many are blessed with the physical strength which is necessary to carry them through the long hard years of musical servitude? The limit of their physical endurance is not often commensurate with the demands of their art; and just when the greatest effort is required of them—when their highest musical and instrumental possibilities are dependent upon a continuance, if not an increase, of energy and vitality—they fail to put forth the requisite strength, and stop far short of their aspirations." 

Women As Orchestral Players: An American Point Of View. - October, 1901

“It is freely admitted that women are capable and conscientious workers, and that a certain refining influence would necessarily result from their presence in an orchestral organization. But imagine women undertaking the work entailed by a New York operatic season! Imagine a refined, delicately-constituted young woman enduring the actual hardships which fall to the lot of every individual orchestral member of the Metropolitan Opera! Let any woman who imagines herself capable of performing such work as these men perform acquaint herself with what is required of the orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera House. She will be quickly disillusioned.

In a word, the orchestra is decidedly not woman’s sphere. Nor can she hope to accomplish anything by attempting to make it hers. And, wholly aside from all musical and physical considerations, which of us cares to see a charming young lady frantically struggling with a bass tuba or trombone?—George Lehmann.”

Tee hee. Chortle chortle. People were so foolish then!

After this, I continued wasting time by checking in with Facebook. First thing I saw? A post by my friend Laura Kobayashi* from BBC News entitled, Orchestras ‘still hostile to women’ (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-25881668). Huh. It seems that many of the same arguments used against women playing violin (and other instruments) in orchestras more than a century ago are now being lobbed at female conductors—even established ones like Marin Alsop. To quote: “…several prominent men queried her [Alsop’s] appointment as the first female conductor of the Last Night of the Proms last year. Bruno Mantavani, head of the Paris Conservatoire, said most women would find conducting too ‘physically demanding’. ‘Sometimes women are disheartened by the physical aspect,’ he told France Musique. ‘Conducting, flying, conducting again is quite demanding.’”

Perhaps he neglects to use a plane?

The article continues, “Russian conductor Vasily Petrenko also claimed orchestral musicians could be distracted by a female lead, saying that ‘a cute girl on a podium means that musicians think about other things’.”

And that’s the woman’s fault?

It seems astonishing to me that anyone today would think these things about women conductors, let alone say them out loud to the press. The more things change, the more they stay the same?


*Laura is a wonderful violinist. You should check out her cd of music by women composers, Feminissimo!

I hope everyone's had a great holiday! This post features a few more books by Mary Cohen that I happen to have around. There are many more I haven't gotten yet, and urge us all to explore-- collections of pieces, duets and quartets, and even theatrical works suitable for children's concerts. She is prolific, creative, and a brilliant violin pedagogue! 

The first somewhat random book on today's list is Space It!, or "A tuneful introduction to violin second finger spacing." How often students struggle with the mysteries of high 2 vs. low 2! This is a whole book devoted to unravelling the mystique. 

In the publisher's words, Space It! is "a collection of easy well-known pieces for violin. Each tune is presented on a double-page spread in two versions: first in finger pattern one, then, at a different octave, in finger pattern two. Useful hints and fingering charts ease the pupil through each piece and brilliant alien characters are guaranteed to liven up violin lessons." Here on the cover, you can see the ever-helpful aliens, the one with the black cape representing finger pattern 1 (high 2), and the one with the jet pack for finger pattern 2 (low 2). Most of the tunes are presented in either G major or D major, where the lower octave uses finger pattern 1, and the upper octave uses finger pattern 2. In addition, each page features a graphical fingering chart (like the one you will see below in Scaley Monsters) and a performance-enhancing suggestion from the "Sound Effects Files"-- tongue clicks, tremolos, foot stamps, harmonics, col legno-- all designed to further technique and add a little spice to the study. Later in the book, Cohen contrasts major and minor versions of the same tune (along with the necessary finger spacing changes), provides previously learned pieces in new keys to finish by ear (with quiz questions on whether the version was major or minor, and FP 1 or FP 2), and lists seven challenges set by the aliens to get those brain cells in even more motion. As in so many of her books, I love the way Cohen takes simple material (high or low 2?) and adds perfectly achievable layers of complexity and creativity to keep tedium at bay.

Space It! serves as preparatory material to Cohen's scale book, Scaley Monsters. How can you not love something subtitled "Scales without tears for young violinists"? As you can clearly see, this book features a dinosaur motif. Major keys included are A, D, G, C, F, and Bb. G and A major are presented in both one and two-octave versions, while Bb is given only in two octaves. For minor keys, Cohen has separate pages of harmonic minor and melodic minor versions for A, D, and G. On the page following each scale sheet, a familiar tune is provided using that key, along with some blank staff lines for the student to compose his or her own short tune in the key. Pieces are all in first position, and require attention to dynamics and articulation. Some can be rhythmically challenging, such as "Havah Nagilah" in D harmonic minor. The last page of the book is a "List of Little-Known Dinosaurs" (somehow related to student characteristics) and their causes for extinction. The "Altogether-too-Difficultosaurus" died because "it never got around to finding food because it gave up before starting out."

This sample page shows the layout for each scale sheet. The "dinosaur footprint map" shows the finger pattern for the relevant strings (Space It! includes the same charts, but with stars denoting fingers instead of footprints). Each scale is written both ascending and descending, with an accompanying arpeggio. There is also a "Dinosaur rhythm game" for each scale (a little hard to read here) with a rhythm corresponding to the dinosaur's name (sneakily incubating rhythm practice for the future). Either they've discovered a lot more dinosaurs since my day, or Cohen has made some up to fit her rhythms better. Here, the dinosaur is "Albertosaurus," and is linked to a long-short-short-long-long rhythm. Each dinosaur picture is, of course, different, and could be colored if one so desired.

Again, Cohen makes a dry bit of violin study an opportunity for humor, creativity, and better yet, musical expression and understanding. Applying the keys immediately to pieces gives them so much more meaning!

The contents of Nifty Shifts are a little harder to describe. The subtitle here is "Tunes and tips to kick-start position changing," and I think we should just take Cohen's word for it. It is by no means a comprehensive shifting method, and at 16 pages is a bit shorter than most of her other books. What it really comprises are mental concepts concerning position change, rather than pages of drills, and the concepts have pretty far-reaching implications for advancing as a violinist. The preface lists a number of transferable skills that students should already have, and be able to use in the book: glissandi up and down the fingerboard, finding the harmonics halfway along each string, playing in tune in lots of different keys in 1st position, using the 4th finger to replace an open string, and being able to play in tune on a violin that is several sizes too small for you. If a student has played the Superstudies books, they will certainly have all these, other than perhaps the last one. Seven symbols pop up as guides in crucial spots, including a pencil as a reminder to mark in half-steps, an engaged doggie telling you to listen to your playing, a zooming skateboard telling you to shift, and a lightbulb pointing out a bright idea.

The first concept, though she doesn't put it this way, is that if you can play a tune with a certain fingering in one position and key, you can play the same tune with the same fingering but in a different key in another position. The intervals stay the same, though the finger spacing will change as you play in higher positions (and she talks about this as "the incredible shrinking violin"). On this first page, Cohen sets up playing "Frere Jacques" in third position by establishing the fingering in first position in E major and Bb major. On the next page, she writes out the first measure in Ab major on the G string, asking the student to finish it by ear. Only then does she give instructions on how to find D on the A string in 3rd position, and again asks the student to play it by ear. At the bottom of the page, the tune is written out in G major starting in 3rd position on the D string. "Can Can" gets a similar treatment on the next two pages, followed by three pages of tunes presented in 1st and 3rd position (but not always with corresponding fingering). The next few pages offer tunes that shift between positions. The book ends with some exercises. "Fingerobics" is a page of one-octave major scales, starting on Bb on the A string and rising chromatically on the same string to G major in 6th position (with the last 5 using an 8va sign instead of ledger lines). "Glisserobics" focus on shifting from the first three fingers up to the half-string harmonic on A, using harmonic pressure during the shifts. Finally, "Shifty bits and pieces" introduces the idea of a guide finger in the shift, using one-octave D major and D minor scales and arpeggios. It's a novel approach, and one that I think needs more reinforcement than the book provides, but it's a very welcome alternative to learning third position as it's own separate kingdom, geographically isolated from any other.

The last book I'll discuss is Cohen's Jazz Technique Takes Off! Being a middle-aged, white, classically-trained violinist, I haven't spent a lot of time with this one and admit I feel a little intimidated by it. But in the privacy of my own home, with no one but the dog listening, I've experimented with these etudes and have found, as always, that they are beautifully written in a variety of styles and techniques. Most are solos, some are duets. Rhythms are challenging, with syncopation, mixed meters, and composite meters (3+3+2/8). Fingerings have to accommodate more chromatic writing, and so often use "creepy crawly" changes of position and half position. All but one study stick to 1st-3rd position, and that one rebellious etude goes all the way up to seventh! Styles include blues, ragtime, tango, charleston, jazz waltz and rumba. Where we classical violinists sound least stylistic is in bowing, so these etudes offer an opportunity to try to loosen up and get used to new coordination patterns (oh, there I go again)...er, I mean grooves. I'd place these between the Technique Takes Off! books and Technique Flies High!, as they definitely require dexterity and a new way to look at playing.

I hope these blog posts have encouraged you to open your wallets and buy a few of Mary Cohen's books. Check out her website, http://marysmusiccupboard.epartnershub.com, for ideas and free stuff. You and your students will love this music!

There will be more on Mary Cohen’s books next month, but I’ve been thinking about this issue for some recent lectures and couldn’t wait to write about it any longer. Did you know that there’s a difference between male elbows and female elbows? Was that a gasp I heard? This was first brought to my attention by the wonderful Jonathan Reynolds, a Minneapolis physical therapist who has a great arts medicine practice. He just happened to mention this casually in conversation with another violinist and I one day. We both said, “huh?” and gaped at him. He kindly replied, “Yeah, women’s arms angle outward from the elbow, and men’s are straight. Our stunned reply to that was “WHAT???” along with jumping up and down a couple of times. This just seemed immensely important in terms of holding the violin, and I couldn’t believe I'd never seen anything about it in pedagogical literature. What follows below are my conclusions, based on a lot of thought, harassing my students to let me examine and photograph their elbows, and no rigorous scientific testing whatsoever.

The angle in question is called the “carrying angle” and is seen when the arm is extended straight by the side (it’s easier to see if your palm is facing forward). The website,  http://www.healthline.com/human-body-maps/elbow , provides the following information. “The resting angle of the elbow prevents the arms from hitting the sides of your body as you walk. This is known as the “carrying angle.” Women typically have smaller shoulders and wider hips than men, and this can cause variations between carrying angles in men and women.” The greater carrying angle in women develops during puberty. There have been quite a few studies done (you can google it), and the difference in carrying angle is now seen by many as a secondary sex characteristic (which could be used as a means to differentiate male and female skeletons).  Here are two examples from my studio, male on the left and female on the right:

So what does this mean for violin and viola players? For holding the instrument, the implications are quite dramatic. When a person (let’s say a male) folds up his forearm to bring the hand towards the body, the elbow angle naturally allows the forearm to be directly in line with the upper arm:

However, when a person with a greater carrying angle (let’s say a female) does this, the natural motion of the arm is to bring the hand towards the chest.    

The only way for females with carrying angles such as these to attain the same position as the males shown above is to rotate the arm/elbow to the right (as you would to play higher on the G string). It seems therefore that many females would be better served to hold their instruments more in front, rather than out to the side, so as not to argue with the natural angle of their arms when bent into playing position. The more an arm is pulled under the violin or viola, the more susceptible it becomes to injury, whether by straining tendons or by putting undue stress on the ulnar nerve where it runs in the bony ridge of the medial epicondyle. Most shoulder rests have been designed with a man’s body in mind, with the possible exceptions of the Wolf Forte Secondo, or the old Menuhin pads. The newer Everest, a wonderful shoulder pad, was designed by making a computer model of the shoulder. It definitely angles the violin out towards the side when its curves and the shoulders’ curves are lined up. I often find it to be a great choice for my tall college guys, but rarely for the young ladies. How much would you like to bet it was a male shoulder that was the model for the Everest? I wonder if one modeled on female shoulders would be different? Sure seems like an area ripe for exploration.

So that is my brief and unscientific exploration of the topic to date. I’m still pondering the effects carrying angle might have on the bow arm. Seems like it might make for more natural pronation in females, but I need to get out the construction paper and experiment (the only way I figured out this much). In the both holding the violin and in bowing, elbow carrying angle might be a factor contributing to the fact that more females suffer playing-related injuries than men. Any thoughts?

The couple’s career was clearly successful. In the Dec. 1919 Lyceum Magazine, Estelle reported that they were concertizing on the northwest coast, and were guaranteed ten weeks of concerts at “$800 per week net”-- a significant chunk of change in that day and age! 1919 also saw an addition to the family, with the couple welcoming a baby boy into their lives sometime that year. A brief article in the Musical Leader of January 1920 states, “After the successful seventy-five concerts of the Gray-Lhevinnes, Estelle Gray-Lhevinne left the Northwest and made a dash for California to this artist couple’s summer home on San Francisco Bay, leaving Mischa Lhevinne, who had some thirty more engagements in the Northwest, in order to see her young son. Viro, the small son of the Gray-Lhevinnes, has achieved seven teeth, which his distinguished mother was eager to see. At home Mrs. Lhevinne has had a long distance phone every night from Mischa, the devoted.”

But soon there was trouble in paradise. The March 22, 1922 issue of Variety had this short news item: “Too much temperament is the basis of a suit for divorce filed here [San Francisco] by Mrs. Estelle Gray Lhevinne, concert violinist, against Moritz Lhevinne. She accuses him of cruelty and asserts that he was fond of moving the furniture about in the room during the early hours of the morning, and was given to nagging her. In her complaint, she asks the custody of their one child, two and one half years old.” The divorce was granted, presumably with more grounds than a predilection for off-hours interior design on the part of the husband. While a Google search for Mischa Gray-Lhevinne provides lots of information on Misha Dichter, Rosina Lhevinne, and even Mischa Elman, the pianist seems to have disappeared from the media once the duo dissolved their partnership.

Estelle remained in their Alameda, California home, from whence she continued to promote her concert career. She seems to have been a born entrepreneur and marketer, from the information gleaned in this 1926 promotion flier. After the split with Mischa in 1922, the flier lists the escalating number of concerts by season: 88 in 1923-24, 137 in 1924-25, 178 in 1925-26, and a projected 245 in 1926-27! She was keeping busy, that’s for sure. The listings of paid admissions for the first three weeks of the Fall 1926 season are also impressive, with 11,855 in Buffalo, 10,500 in Cleveland, and 18,300 in Toledo.  The venues, however, might not have been so impressive. A 1926 article in the Glenville High School newspaper of Cleveland (“The Torch”), announces a recital at the school. The article, by one Miss Lotta Carson, begins, “Last November Glenville High students were very enthusiastic over the recital given in the auditorium by Estelle Gray-Lhevinne. Her selection of music was interesting because of the different types. She is recognized as one of America’s foremost violinists and probably the world’s greatest woman player, and will entertain Glenville students on Monday, October 4. Two half-hour programs will be given.” The Miami University (of Oxford, OH) student paper of Nov. 9, 1927, features a concert review with a couple of new nuggets of information. One, clearly a story told as part of the performance, is that at the time of the San Francisco earthquake in Estelle’s childhood (1906), her violin was being repaired downtown. “When the news came that the fire was spreading, the little violinist dashed downtown and even though the order was to ‘shoot anyone entering a building,’ she flew past the soldiers, broke into the shop and rescued the historic fiddle.” Hmmm. This article also reports that Estelle was asked to accept a life membership in the Cleveland Musical Association, “an honor which few women attain.” She joined the likes of Madame Schumann-Heink and Walter Damrosch in this honor.

Estelle continued touring college and high school campuses, and as early as 1927 began including her son (age 6) on the programs. Viro, or “Laddie,” as her son became known, generated a good bit of press. They are listed as “Mme. Estelle Gray-Lhevinne (violinist) and her young piano virtuoso son” on the 1930-31 Wartburg College artist’s series. The Washington State Normal School in Bellingham featured this review of their 1932 concert:

Laddie Boy Gray Plays as Mozart

Uniqueness and finish characterizing their program, Laddie Gray, young boy pianist, and Estelle Gray-Lhevinne, violinist, played in assembly, Monday, Dec. 12. 

After Mrs. Gray-Lhevinne had played one group of Classical numbers she stated, “Laddie will give his first group of numbers costumed as the boy Mozart. We are not introducing any prodigy, merely showing you a picture of Mozart in his first appearance in court.” The costumed Laddie then played one of that composer’s minuets. He played with a confident touch which produced a very good tone.

His next numbers which he played “as himself” were compositions by Bach, Haydn, and Beethoven. These were all cordially received.

Then, after several more classics, preceded by a story about each, the mother played four pieces of her own composition, reciting the original words before playing them.”

Laddie began performing at age four, and Estelle was quoted as saying that she only allowed him to travel with her a few weeks each year, for his development. “The rest of the time he lives a rustic life in his San Francisco bay home, with earnest diversified studies in advance of the usual boy his age.” 

When at their “rustic” home, she and her son continued their interest in dogs. This picture appeared in the San Francisco Examiner in 1930, in an article entitled “Hero of the Klondike.” The photo text read, “This famous huskie, Klondike Skipper, ‘mushed’ alone through blizzards and drifts 85 miles into Dawson to summon aid for a United States mail carrier trapped in a storm. The dog, owned by Mrs. Estelle Gray Lhevinne of Alameda, will be a feature attraction at the dog show, which opens Saturday evening at the Oakland Auditorium.” At some point in the 1930’s, Estelle married again, to A. L. Heynemann. The couple was known as hosts to many musical gatherings in their Alameda home. 

In May, 1933, at the end of a six-week concert tour with Laddie, Estelle needed time to rest before returning to California. She entered a Boston hospital, and sadly and apparently unexpectedly, passed away two days later. 

Clearly Estelle Gray brought much joy and music to audiences in her forty or so years of life. I’m glad the internet gave me a chance to know about her.

Yes, love was about to find Estelle. Her new traveling partner in concerts and in life was to be the pianist and composer Moritz Lhevinne. In the book Circuit Chautauqua, author John E. Tapia reports that the Gray-Lhevinne duo was a popular circuit feature between 1913 and 1917, and featured "various combinations of piano, violin, song, and dramatic reading." A brochure from 1915 claimed that their performance would be "humorous, pathetic, thrilling and always inspirational."

Lhevinne was a pianist and a composer, who apparently focused on popular songs (more on that later). He was described thusly in their first joint brochure: "Moritz Lhevinne combines a striking, virile personality with his poetical conceptions and his dramatic insight into the very soul of music. His technique is of the brilliant and flawless surety that marks the born master. The critics are unanimous in their praise of his fluent legato runs and brilliant octave passages. He has the faculty of enthusing people who never before have enjoyed piano solos. When he went into the Chautauqua field he created a sensation." What protected young lass wouldn't fall in love with such a musical partner?

The pairing of the two was meant to be a boost to both their careers. This same brochure also stated that "With the increasing demand for the combination of well-known, successful artists, the announcement that Miss Gray and Mr. Lhevinne, the brilliant Russian pianist, will tour together is noteworthy." At this point, Mama still served as their "personal representative", but the young artists would soon take matters into their own hands.

The two wed, perhaps as early as 1915, but without doubt by 1919. They hit on a very successful formula for their concerts, called "Personality Programs." A 1920 account published in "The Crescent," the newspaper of Pacific College in Newburg, Oregon, gives a good description:

"The Gray-Lhevinne concert, given under the auspices of the Monday Music Club at Wood-Mar Hall Friday night, was very successful, for Estelle Gray, violinist, and Mischa Lhevinne, pianist, are very clever entertainers. The concert consisted of story-music which was given originally and simply, in an informal and pleasing manner. Miss Gray, or Mrs. Lhevinne in real life, possesses an unusually pleasing personality and charming stage manner. She told the story of the numbers as they were played, which helped the audience to appreciate their interpretation. 

One of the groups they gave was composed of music depicting rural life in a clever and comical way. Miss Gray also demonstrated her ability to play more classical selections, many of which were written by old French masters of composition. Mr. Lhevinne proved himself a brilliant pianist and competent accompanist. Especially pleasing was his playing of Chopin's beautiful and difficult 'Ocean Etude.' The concert was well-patronized by the people of Newburg and the surrounding towns. Many were personally introduced to the Lhevinnes after the close of their program, and many were interested in inspecting Miss Gray's priceless violin and seeing the picture of 'the only boy in the world' [presumably their son, born the previous year]."

A somewhat less sophisticated review was printed in the Red Oak Express of Red Oak, Iowa, in 1921. 

"Estelle Gray told of the Old Cremona, her own violin, which was made in 1715 and played the 'Italian Elegy' which was composed in the same year. She pointed out that it is the spirit the master breathes into the violin that makes the music and not age and time for wood and strings. Fine music from a violin, she said, comes when the owner treasures the instrument. Some of the most beautiful numbers played by the artists were 'Fantastic Appassionate' by Vieuxtemps, a French composition which won Estelle Gray her reputation in Europe; 'Zephe' by Hubay, delicate and charming; and 'Danse Macabre' by Saint-Saens. 'The Heart of my Opal,' 'My Song," and "Now It's Up To You' were interesting compositions of the artists themselves. Estelle Gray wrote the words and Lhevinne the music."

By all appearances, the Gray-Lhevinnes appeared to be deeply infatuated with each other. Their several joint compositions, published (perhaps self-published) in 1919, are shameless love songs. The lyrics of "My Song," written by Estelle, feature this last verse:

You are my own dear hills, You are my deep blue sea
I look into your eyes-- they fairly transport me.
You're to me, enchantment
You are my sun and star
God has made you-- all things, 
Perfect as you are.

The sheet music for this, and also "Now, It's Up To You," are brought to us by the wonders of the internet and UCLA's Archive of Popular American Music: (http://digital.library.ucla.edu/apam/librarianITEMID=NSO016018 
and 
http://digital.library.ucla.edu/apam/librarian?ITEMID=NSO018010).
 
The couple seems to have anticipated modern practice by hyphenating their names together, and in this case, even became a "Brangelina" item for authorship credit.  

Sadly, this love was not to last... 

When I am in need of inspiration, or perhaps procrastination, I visit a wonderful website, which has been brought to us by our tax dollars. Part of the Library of Congress’s “American Memory” site (memory.loc.gov) is something called “Traveling Culture: Circuit Chautauqua in the 20th Century.” Among other artifacts, the site houses promotional fliers from various artists and acts that traveled the country in the early part of the 20th century. A search of  “women violinists” brings up a number of items, both intriguing (Dorothy DeLay and her sister as 2/3‘s of the Stuyvesant Trio in the 1950‘s) and occasionally hilarious (see the Melody Belles). These violinists had performing careers, numerous glowing press clippings, and management of sorts, yet I’d wager few people would recognize the names (Miss DeLay aside). It seemed a shame, so I thought I’d see what I could find out about some of their lives and careers.

In an oddly linear Google search, a picture emerged of the short life of Estelle Gray, billed in her press kit as “The Violiniste of Inspiration.” Gray was born in California sometime in the early 1890’s (ancestry.com says “about 1892”). She began studying violin at the age of six, and gave a recital two years later at the Alhambra Theater in San Francisco, playing a memorized program to an audience of 1500 people.  Her press biography from the 1920’s adds, “It was at this time she was gaining inspiration from her habit of practicing in the open, among the wonderful mountains of California.”  Teddy Roosevelt said of her, “You have absorbed the message of your big West; it shows in the strength and virility of your bowing.” 

The University of the Pacific gave her “the offer of a cap and gown” at age eleven, and soon afterwards she turned down a scholarship at the University of California in order to study in New York. Gray began giving concerts in New York at age 15, including a series at the Waldorf Astoria, the Plaza, the Astor, and in Aeolian Hall. Playing her way across the U.S. at age 17, Gray ended with a recital at the University of California’s Greek Theater, which seated 8,000 (though the report neglects to say how many seats were filled). A tour of Europe followed this success. More dubious compliments came her way, such as this by Henri Marteau, Joachim’s successor at the Berlin Hochschule: “ Her bow arm is truly remarkable for its freedom and strength. She has the best bowing of any woman I have ever known."

Gray was fairly unique for her time in that her training was accomplished entirely in America, though I haven't been able to find any mention of with whom she studied. This native training was frequently pointed out in her publicity, and after her European tour, Gray was “besieged” by New York newspapers for interviews on “why American training is best for our girls.” Press blurbs included on her post-European brochure reveal interesting perceptions of and attitudes towards “girl violinistes” of the time. For example:

Nuremberg, Bavaria, The Musical Zeitung: “We were amazed to find ourselves so won by the little American artist; the very walls that for centuries have been penetrated with German music , seemed to rejoice at the fresh melodies of the girl from the other world.”

London, The Times: “The young American violiniste, Estelle Gray, is quite extraordinary; her charming winsomeness won before she played a note, and she plays with the vigor of a man.”

Ostend, Belgium. Ciro Patimo, of the Grand Opera Company, said of Miss Gray’s playing: “So feminine and graceful, yet the strength and force of a man. She is the most brilliant of artists.”

San Francisco Examiner: “Miss Gray’s tones are warm and virile. Her manner on the platform instantly enchants with its simplicity and unaffected, unconscious ease... She is equally charming in a lullaby, a gypsy dance, or the heavier work.”

New Haven, Conn. Register: “It was brilliant and thrilling and almost set the audience wild. For an encore she played a sweet lullaby that made one think of home and all the sweetest babies we ever knew.” 

Gray’s mother, Mrs. Margaret Ludgate Gray, served as Estelle’s tour manager and promoter (stage mother, anyone?). She also, likely with little prompting, participated in the programs as a “reader.” An early brochure states, “Mrs. Margaret Ludgate Gray always travels with her daughter. Mrs. Gray has studied the art of interpretation under some of the best masters. She is a character delineator of marked ability, and has won popularity from East to West. Mrs. Gray is a great favorite with audiences, with spoken songs, readings with music and character delineations. Her numbers add greatly to the interest and charm of the program.” Or else?

Mother Gray’s role as performance partner was soon to take a back seat with the advent of a new collaborative pianist-- one Mr. Moritz Lhevinne. Stay tuned for the rest of the story...

Having been a horse-obsessed young girl, it astonishes me that I had never read one of the most famous “horse” books ever, My Friend Flicka—until now. Mary O’Hara, author of this trilogy and other books, is also Mary O’Hara, pianist and composer.

Ms. O’Hara (1885-1980) lived a varied life! Born into a family descended from William Penn, O’Hara grew up as a minister’s daughter in Brooklyn Heights, NY. She married a third cousin (against her father’s wishes) and moved with him to California at the start of the 20th century. They divorced, and she stayed on and worked as a screenwriter in Hollywood in the 1920’s. Marriage again uprooted her, and she moved to Wyoming with husband #2, a man who had worked with horses in the Army. This ranch and her experiences there form the not-so-well-disguised background and characters in the Wyoming trilogy of My Friend Flicka, Thunderhead, and Green Grass of Wyoming, which were written while living there in the 1940’s. Divorcing again in 1947, Ms. O’Hara moved back east and settled in Maryland for the rest of her life.

Wyoming looms large in O’Hara’s musical output. She wrote a musical called  “Oh! Wyoming! : a folk tale of the Western plains with music” in 1959; a song “Green Grass of Wyoming” in 1946 (the words of which are quoted in the novel of the same name),  and another musical, “The Catch Colt” in the 1960’s. The Sunset Dance (which is in the second volume of the anthology) was published in the 1920’s, so it seems clear that her love of nature and the wide-open spaces of the west was long a source of her musical inspiration. After finding this piece and looking into O’Hara’s background for her biography, I decided that I really needed to read her most famous books.

So recently I finished reading the trilogy. One thing that stood out to me throughout was that sunrises, sunsets, and the weather itself almost became characters themselves in the books. My Friend Flicka begins the trilogy with a sunrise: 

“High up on the long hill they called the Saddle Back, behind the ranch and the county road, the boy sat his horse, facing east, his eyes dazzled by the rising sun.
    It seemed like a personage come to visit; appearing all of a sudden over the dark bank of clouds in the east, coming up over the edge of it smiling; bowing right and left; lighting up the whole world so that everything smiled back.”

There are numerous descriptions of sunsets, usually helping to set the mood for the action. In Thunderhead, while Nell and Rob share a strained car ride, O’Hara describes a sunset:

"It was a sunset of blue and silver. The light had gone away from the earth, leaving a sea of darkness beneath a sky as blue as turquoise. The eyes, straining to discover at what far-distant point that dark earth me the jeweled light of the sky, were lost in mystery. That was not all. There was a mile-long, torpedo-shaped lake of quicksilver some distance above the horizon, it’s edges as finely turned as if blown in glass, and below it, thrusting up from behind the earth, the tops of thunderheads burning white, like great alabaster lamps lit from within… The sunset dawned, burned, died at the slow swing of a gigantic, omnipotent arm."

In the last book, Nell writes to her son Howard the “sermon” she was too sick to give him before he left for school. Several threads come together:

"…just one more word about the way LOVE bestows happiness. When you come to think of it, there is nothing that bestows happiness except love. Love is implicit in all praise, in admiration. You know how, in yourself, when you see some glorious thing, a sunset, or a beautiful face, or some of these exquisite scenes of nature that you now and then come upon, a great tide of praise, love and happiness rises in your heart until it seems that it will burst, and tears push up behind your eyes! Or perhaps it is the grandeur of a symphony. Or perhaps it is great courage or a noble, unselfish deed—and again that bursting love fills that heart."

O'Hara delves more into her feelings about music in Green Grass of Wyoming. For me, one of the most striking scenes in the whole trilogy, and some of the most beautiful writing, describes Nell’s reaction to Rob’s gift of a piano:

"She did not know he was there. Her face was rapt. She sat with one elbow on the rack, her head leaning on her hand, the other hand playing that low fifth with a deep, gentle touch, over and over.
    At last he couldn’t help asking her why she kept playing just those two notes, and why there were tears in her eyes…She explained hesitatingly, as if she were feeling her way through the thoughts. ‘I learned to do this when I was a child. By the hour. It is as if we know so small a part of life and of the universe and all that is. The world, all worlds, heaven, hell—whatever there is in the way of worlds and universes and life! How little we knew! We cannot know more. We’re not constituted to know more, and yet we can’t help wishing we could. Well, music hints at all we cannot know but just dream of. If I sit playing one chord over and over, listening with an absolutely blank mind, it does something to me. Deep down. I don’t know what, but it is a marvelous emotion. Everything falls away. And I begin to be aware of the depths of things—I don’t know what to call them. Perhaps beauty. Perhaps love. Perhaps an immensurable longing. Of the final deep and dreadful and marvelous things that would be too much for human beings to bear if they did know of them. Yes—that’s it, through these two notes, I get a message, a promise, a terrible enticement...‘"

Children's books? On some levels, yes. But in addition to the gripping stories of horses, adventure and growing up, O'Hara explores depths of feeling and relationship issues that surprised me as an adult. Reading them, The Sunset Dance became more to me than a cute tune that explores first and third position and is a really great opportunity for left hand octave frame work. It is all that, yes, but in the same way that these are much more than YA books, her awe of nature and love of music are going to stay with me when I play it.

The books explored in this segment are really the reason I chose this topic in the first place! They are some of my favorite works for children, and it is a toss-up as to which wins the award for most adorable illustrations.

The first (chronologically) is Sally O'Reilly's Fiddle Rhythms (originally String Rhythms). For anyone unacquainted with Ms. O'Reilly, her official biography reads as follows: "Sally O'Reilly is known throughout the music world as a soloist, chamber musician, and pedagogue. Professor of Violin at the University of Minnesota School of Music in Minneapolis, she studied with Ivan Galamian at Curtis Institute and with Josef Gingold at Indiana University, where she was his assistant. Later she studied with Andre Gertler and Carlo Van Neste in Brussels, where she was a Fulbright Scholar. Her chamber music coaches included Janos Starker, Gyorgy Sebok, Artur Balsam, William Primrose, and Felix Galimir." (https://music.umn.edu/people/faculty-staff/profile?UID=oreil004) 

While Ms. O'Reilly doesn't use specific lyrics throughout the book, she equates each rhythm with a mouth-watering pie filling as a clever mnemonic device. For example, "apple" (as in apple pie) represents two eighth-notes. Each rhythm has a page devoted to its exploration. First, the rhythm is used by itself to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," and next reappears in a variation of this tune called "I Like _____ Pie." Then two or three short familiar tunes which use the rhythm put the cap on the lesson.

Ms. O'Reilly's pie fillings are often ingenious. "Orange" represents a sixteenth and dotted eighth (she is from Texas-- give it two syllables!), "banana" = 16th-8th-16th, "chocolate" is an eighth-note triplet, and so on. "Mixed fruit pies" are pages with tunes that combine the rhythms, and "Lopsided pies" use asymmetrical meters. A final page has a quiz on the different rhythm types, with the opportunity to compose a little. I love this book, even though it makes me want to head for the nearest diner for coffee and pie.

Next up are two of my all-time favorite books. They make me want to run out and lasso children to teach so I can have the joy of using them. Both are by British violinist and teacher Caroline Lumsden, author of the "Musicland" series, widely used in the UK. Ms. Lumsden studied at the Guildhall School of Music, and has spent much of her career specializing in teaching children. She is the director of the Beauchamp Music Group (named after her house), which is a registered charity that has taught hundreds of young people in Britain. Ms. Lumsden imbues her teaching with a great sense of fun, which is readily apparent in these two books. 

The first, Witches' Brew, is a collection of pieces for open strings and first finger. Yawn, you say? Not with the collection of rhythms, bowings, special effects, jazzy accompaniments, and hilarious words (were you wondering when I'd get to that?) that comprise the music. Put out in 2002, the books got to ride in on the Harry Potter wave, but stand the test of time now that he's all grown up.

Each piece uses words to reinforce the rhythms, and the words  all lie in that range of grossness that delights children so. The first of the tunes, "Witches' Brew" (pictured here; I don't know who stretta music is, but I can't think that they have any copyright claim to this), has the following lyrics:

Witches' brew, witches' brew
do not drink the witches' brew
Tail of rat, eyeballs too
toes of toad and nose of shrew.

Witches' brew, witches' brew
do not drink the witches' brew
Rotten eggs, lumpy goo
nasty odor, smells like stew.

Witches' brew, witches' brew
drink drink drink


Practice suggestions at the top read: 
Whisper and sing along; Clap with time names; Clap and sing note names; Practice the final noise.

The book comes with a cd which includes both performance and accompaniment tracks for each piece. Here is "Witches' Brew":

The second volume, Wizard's Potion, continues the fun with "16 spooky pieces to play and sing." Like the first, it includes a cd, adorable illustrations, and a summary of teaching points for each piece in the piano part. This time the player's range is extended to first and second finger patterns, and chromatic alterations are common. Children are weaned away from the reliance on words to learn rhythms, with only the first five pieces including lyrics. However, the "rhythm" of the title is generally found in the first measure or two of the violin part. One of my favorites, "Melted Mouse & Roasted Rat in Choc'late Sauce," comes off as a delightfully dirty blues. Just to imagine a little cherub getting down and swinging away on this makes me start looking around for younger students again...

I am a huge fan of Ms. Lumsden, if you couldn't tell. Both books are published by Peters, and are also available in a version for cello. Word use is certainly more fun in her hands than it was a century ago!

One final note (and chance to show you another adorable illustration from Wizard's Potion): The covers and illustrations were found online and are used without permission. Ditto with the sound files, which are from the cd's that come with the book. I use them all only with the intent to introduce this wonderful material to others and to sell lots of copies for Ms. O'Reilly and Ms. Lumsden. Hopefully that will keep me out of trouble!