final projects

True confessions – I never intended to be a music educator. In fact, I never thought I would end up doing music at all. I liked it in grade school, thought it was easy in middle school, and put about zero effort into it during high school. I decided to go to the local community college to get an A.A. degree and transfer smoothly into a college (which was yet to be determined). I took an entrance exam for the music program, basically because I had been given (and greedily accepted) scholarships that were contingent upon me continuing to participate in music during college. Like most music entrance exams, it started with the dictation. Once that part was given, we had the remainder of the hour to complete the written stuff. I looked at the questions and didn’t understand one thing. Seriously, not one. I walked to the front of the room and turned in my exam to the teacher, completing only the dictation and my name. I walked out of the room and immediately to the h.r. office to withdraw from my music classes and decline all of my scholarships. Hello English major.

The same guy who had given the exam asked me to swing by and discuss my exam. To make a long story short, he convinced me to try again. I did, and he (and all of the wonderful people I met there) saved my life so to speak. One of the great features of my school was the cumulative individual performance that each student gave at the end of each semester. These were known as Final Projects. Basically, you needed to perform everything that you were studying in a 45-minute slot. Intense. Exhilarating. Unparalleled. Hard.

I remember my projects including classical voice, jazz voice, classical saxophone, jazz saxophone, classical piano, jazz piano, a large group vocal arrangement, a studio jingle, and any kind of fun collaboration. The music program’s mission was reflected by these semester performances. The final projects were so great for me (and for all of us). They stretched us beyond our comfort zones, encouraged us to rely upon one another to learn and grow, and challenged us to realize our potential. When I continued in college, I met my friend Louis. He was practicing his trumpet a ton, and I naively asked him when did he make time to work on jazz keys and voice lessons. He looked at me like I was from Mars, and told me that he just focused on trumpet. I remember that moment like it was yesterday – I had never realized you could pick!

Some people also think that having so many musical interests is an impossible puzzle. How could somebody really ever become great at something if you were juggling a half-dozen somethings? Is it really a drawback to have a variety of interests? Is it a waste of time to have a musical focus split in so many different directions? I guess that, in retrospect, I needed to know about all of these different music disciplines. I truly believe that my complete education (which i often choked down) paid off exponentially when attempting to understand other approaches to music. I think that, after having experienced so many types of study, I was even more comfortable with my decision to work on my horn. As an artist, I believe that you can survive if 1) you get pretty good at something, 2) you find a niche in this world, 3) people give a shit about it, 4) you’re a nice guy, and 5) you deliver every time. Yes, being a jack-of-all-trades can come in handy at times. However, when considering the aforementioned criteria, choosing one thing like Louis suggested is probably the way to go.

I am thankful for my time spent in the SMV program and, as an educator, often ponder its mission and how it has affected me both then and now.