thirteen ways

It’s official. We’re going to Curtis for a three-year residency and I’m so happy I could almost cry. So this Valentine’s day, I’m publicly declaring my love for Curtis (with apologies to my boyfriend).

I am incredibly proud of my Curtis degree. There, I said it. Even though most people stare blankly back at me when I say I studied there, the ones who have heard of it know what it means to have gone there. Amongst musicians, there’s a degree of mystery surrounding the school because so few people have gone there in relation to Juilliard or other conservatories. My fellow blackbirds (all Oberlin grads) were lucky enough to work with Curtis students a while back and they gushed to me about how exciting the students were because of their combination of skills and enthusiasm. When I asked them what they expected, they said, “Well, I guess we didn’t quite know. Maybe a little arrogance? Disdain for new music?” Ha, I guess that’s why they hired me??

What was it like to go to Curtis? I get this question a lot, and my answer is that it was a kind of musical utopia.  And by that I mean I was in a very tightly-knit community where everyone shared the same passion. There was mutual respect all around because we knew what it took just to get admitted to the school.  We lived and breathed music and didn’t really have to worry about much else. And while it was heavy on the big B composers (Beethoven, Bach, Brahms), Curtis introduced me to The Death of Klinghoffer,The Rake’s Progress, and The Rape of Lucretia, as well as young composers whom I’m working with now.

I’d be lying if it didn’t sometimes feel insular and narrow-minded. Everyone knew your name, everyone also knew your business, and there was no getting away from that. Sometimes I wished I was walking into an art history class instead of counterpoint.  (By the way, they do have art history, but I came to Curtis with most of my credits already fulfilled). I’d definitely be lying if I said the echoes of all the great musicians that had tromped through its halls wasn’t overwhelming. I mean, Hilary Hahn, Lang Lang, Yuja Wang, Jonathan Biss – not to mention the principals of any given section of top tier orchestras in the nation – and these are just the superstars that are my age. Walking down the hallways of Curtis, you see old class pictures of Barber and Menotti, and practice rooms named after Zimbalist and Horszowski. True, there are no nuclear physicists or poet laureates, but Curtis sure does know how to churn out some amazing musicians.

Here’s my dirty little secret. If you had asked me right when I entered Curtis what my ideal career would be, I would have said that I wanted a career performing solo.  After graduating from Curtis, this changed dramatically. I had been introduced to chamber music on a level I never before experienced, and to musicians with wonderfully diverse and fulfilling careers I never imagined possible. By the time I finished my Master’s at Juilliard, I wanted a career in chamber music, and I wanted to teach at Curtis. Of those two things, I thought the latter was impossible. But here I am, not even seven years out of Curtis, getting ready to go back. True, I never thought it would be with eighth blackbird and a new music directive, but I can only control my dreams so far. It speaks to just how much change has occurred at Curtis since I left. It seems that the Curtis I knew has launched itself with great aplomb into not just a new decade, but a new era, with brand new buildings, a brand new president, much greater visibility and national presence through Curtis on Tour. Even though I may not recognize my old school, somehow I know it’ll feel like coming home.