child prodigy in mathematics, taking high-school algebra at age seven and college calculus at
ten. But I was also drawn to music, mainly the cello, which remains my primary instrument.
I probably got my musical talent from my father. He grew up on a farm and never studied music
seriously, but somehow developed an interest in it. I remember that Bach and Brahms were
among his favorites. He taught himself how to pick out simple songs at the piano, and even came
up with a pretty good rendition of “Un bel dì” from Madama Butterfly, although it would be years
before I became familiar with the original. He passed away when I was 21, before it occurred to
me to wonder how and why he had come to appreciate classical music.
My father’s experience reinforces one of my core philosophies about music. It isn’t "elitist,” and
one doesn't have to be born into it in order to understand it. I have so many friends tell me that
they don’t “know anything” about symphonic music, but they “know what they like.” But that’s how
almost everyone comes to music – by first realizing that they like it, and then gradually learning
more about it. I had a well developed love for classical music long before I even knew what
sonata form was; there were plenty of opportunities to fill in those gaps later.
I started toying with the idea of becoming a conductor in high school. It was never a power trip for
me, unless one is talking about the power of studying a score thoroughly and getting ever closer
to the composer’s message. The organizational challenges and the way that the various parts
combine continue to fascinate me. I tell my orchestration students that the orchestra is the
greatest instrument ever invented: Nothing can match its range of dynamics, color, or expression,
and for more than two centuries, composers have consistently turned to it for their most powerful
works.
