Performer, publisher, composer, and educator, William L. Cahn is probably best known as a founding member of the percussion ensemble, NEXUS. From 2005 to 2015 he was Associate Professor of Percussion at the Eastman School of Music, and a Visiting Artist in Residence at the Showa Academy of Music in Kawasaki, Japan. Mr. Cahn was also the Principal Percussionist in the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra (RPO) from 1968 to 1995; served on the RPO Education Committee since 1972; and is a life member of
the orchestra’s Honorary Board of Directors. In addition, his numerous workshops and residencies focused on such topics as: community hand drumming, careers in music, the business of music, and improvisation. It is the latter that served as the subject of his book, Creative Music Making, published by Routledge Books, which discusses free form improvisation.
Throughout his stellar career, Mr. Cahn has performed with conductors, composers, ensembles, and artists representing many musical styles, such as: Chet Atkins, John Cage,Aaron Copland, Sir Andrew Davis, Chuck Mangione, Mitch Miller, Seiji Ozawa, Doc Severensen, Leopold Stokowski, Igor Stravinsky, Edgar Varese, and the Paul Winter Consort which earned him a Grammy Award. Due to his significant work he has been honored to receive the following accolades: the Rochester Philharmonic League’s Fanfare Award for his Significant contribution to music education in Rochester; Mu Phi Epsilon’s Musician of The Year Award; the Sabian Lifetime Achievement Award; the Arts and Cultural Council of Greater Rochester Lifetime Achievement Award; the Eastman School of Music Centennial Award; and with Nexus he was awarded the Toronto Arts Award in Music; The Banff Centre for the Arts National Award; and was inducted into the Percussive Arts Society’s Hall of Fame.
When did you begin studying music?
I first began playing music in 1954 as a third grader at the Edwin Forrest Elementary School – part of the Philadelphia Public School District. One of the teachers at the school organized a drumming group of maybe 8 to 12 students. Using snare drum sticks on upright wooden pads, and in front of the entire student body at the daily morning assembly, we would accompany songs that everyone would sing, such as: The Happy Wanderer, The Erie Canal, America, or My Country ’Tis of Thee. The drummers received no formal lessons other than learning a simple rhythmic accompaniment in class by rote. And it was open to any student at the school.
At around the same time I was a member of a cub scout troop which celebrated an annual initiation dinner for the new scouts and their parents. At one of the dinners the scout master asked for a volunteer to wear a Native American headdress and play a simple beat on the troop’s small tom-tom as the new scouts paraded ceremoniously to the front of the room to be recognized. Thinking about my experience with the Forest School Drummers, I raised my hand, and after being selected and with no musical instruction, I simply played the rhythm that I had heard regularly on television programs. After the ceremony, I was pleased by the positive feedback (at least that’s how I interpreted it) I received from everyone in the room, especially the adults. I was primed to take advantage of any opportunity for more of the same.
Such opportunities were provided by the Philadelphia School District, that had a very extensive music education programming which included broadcasts of weekly radio programs into classrooms throughout the city and beyond. Each program provided opportunities for listening to music, or for playing along with the radio by participating in a classroom rhythm band using percussion instruments such as: triangles, woodblocks, acorn bell sticks (sleigh bells), rhythm sticks (claves), or shakers (maracas). In addition, the public school district provided opportunities to regularly hear performances by professional musicians at school assemblies; including small ensemble performances by musicians from the Philadelphia Orchestra.
These amongst others, were the opportunities that music educators in the post World War Two era provided to elementary school children. These musical experiences were the result of an environment that was filled with opportunities for every elementary student, not just music-track students, to be regularly exposed in school to music and to participate in music-making regardless of social or economic status.
What made you choose percussion and who were your primary teachers?
By the late 1950s Philadelphia’s elementary schools were provided with free group lessons on orchestral instruments taught by professional musicians and music teachers. When I reached the fifth grade at the Edwin Forrest School, everyone in my classroom was given the opportunity to select an orchestral instrument: strings, winds, or percussion, in order to take group lessons and to join the school’s orchestra. My first choice was trumpet, but that instrument was so popular that all of the school’s trumpets were already allocated. However, drummers were needed for the elementary school orchestra, and snare drum lessons were being offered and that is what I selected. I began to take weekly lessons on snare drum under William Grande, a trombonist and music teacher in the Philadelphia School District, who visited our school for one day each week. I learned to read music in these group lessons using Rhythmic Foundation Through Drumming (1938), a method book that was authored by Louis G. Wersen, the brilliant Superintendent of Music for the Philadelphia Public School District. After only a few lessons I was able to read and play the drum parts well enough to join the school orchestra. My weekly group lessons in Mr. Grande’s drum group continued until I graduated and moved on to middle school.
In 1960 I entered the Abraham Lincoln Middle/High School in Philadelphia, and was immediately enrolled in the school’s band, and orchestra, both of which rehearsed after school several times each week. Free group lessons on snare drum were also provided. The lessons were taught by a professional drummer and teacher, Joseph Huttlin Jr., who visited the school one day each week, and the lessons proved to be a clear step up for me, musically and technically. Working mainly from the Imperial Method for the Drum (1898) by Harry A. Bower, Mr. Huttlin’s group lessons usually included 5 to 10 student drummers from the middle school’s band and orchestra. The lessons provided a progression of snare drum etudes with increasingly complex rhythms. The lessons also provided my first exposure to the rudimental drumming styles of 18th and 19th century fife and drum military music. It became very gratifying (to say the least) to be able to play through the drum parts to: The Three Camps Reveille, The Downfall of Paris, or The Connecticut Halftime, without stopping. Of course, at that early stage of my musical experience, I had no sense of the music’s history; in many cases I wasn’t even aware that fife parts (melodies) existed in addition to the drum parts.
In my second year of middle school the band director, Bruno Rondinelli, suggested that I join the All-Philadelphia Middle School Band and Orchestra, which was comprised of the best student instrumentalists throughout the city. The band and orchestra rehearsed on Saturdays at Girls High School on North Broad Street in Philadelphia, requiring about a 90 minute bus and subway ride each way. The band was directed by Michael Giamo, an inspiring musician and teacher with an operatic musical expressiveness, who selected repertoire that was mostly classical though arranged for band. It was there that I first heard the music of Bach’s Chorale Prelude to the Cantata, Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme: its beauty triggered a lifelong enjoyment of classical music, especially orchestral music.
At a band rehearsal, the father of one of the band’s student percussionists volunteered his time to coach the band’s percussion section. The student percussionist was Bill Hinger, and his father was Fred D. Hinger, the Principal Timpanist of the Philadelphia Orchestra. Following the coaching session, and at the end of the band’s rehearsal, Mr. Hinger approached me and offered a free private lesson at no charge. Not fully understanding how significant this generous offer would ultimately be, I said yes, but because I was too young to drive, and since there was no public bus service near his house, it would depend on my father’s availability to drive me to the lesson. Eventually a date and time were agreed upon and the lesson went very well, as evidenced by Mr. Hinger’s offer to give a follow-up lesson at no charge (My family could not have afforded it otherwise). For the next three years Mr. Hinger continued to offer me lessons at no charge. It was a gift that essentially provided instruction for me at the level of the Curtis Institute where Mr. Hinger taught – all while I was still only a high school student.
In 1962, my second year at Lincoln High School, Mr. Rondinelli mentioned that the high school band could use a player on some Eb alto horn parts. I responded that if I could borrow an Eb alto horn from the school, I would try to learn and play it in the band. Within a few weeks I was playing in the band, and I decided to take a few lessons with a horn teacher, Anton Riva, at a nearby branch of the Settlement Music School. After just a few lessons, Mr. Riva suggested that I should switch to French Horn, which I did, and I continued to take French Horn lessons and played it in the band until I graduated from high school.
Mr. Rondinelli also invited me to play in the Lincolnaires, the school’s big band. At first I played on a makeshift drum set that was a collection of marching drums: bass drum, snare drum, and a field drum without snares serving as a tom-tom. Without ever having taken a drum set lesson, and only by having listened to LP recordings of big bands, I found a way to play the drum set parts and to develop basic skills that would enable me to join with a few fellow students to form a dance combo, which was soon earning enough money for me to purchase a new Gretsch black pearl Be-Bop set: snare, bass, small tom, hi-hat, and ride cymbal. With our combo regularly playing at weddings on weekends, it became possible for me to earn enough supplemental spending money to get me through college.
During my high school years (1961 to 1964), I also learned about the Settlement Music School Percussion Ensemble, thanks to the other student percussionists in the All-Philadelphia High School Orchestra and Band, including Bill Hinger, who at the time was studying with Philadelphia Orchestra percussionist, Alan Abel, at the main Settlement School in South Philadelphia. Since I was already a French horn student at one of the Settlement Branch Schools, I was allowed to join the ensemble at no cost (again, my family could not afford the tuition otherwise). While I never had a private lesson with Mr. Abel, every rehearsal of the Settlement Percussion Ensemble proved to be a lesson in ensemble playing, and I absolutely consider him as one of my main teachers.
The influence of the Philadelphia Orchestra was forever imprinted in me by the many Friday afternoon concerts I was able to attend at the Philadelphia Academy of Music, thanks to the free tickets that were regularly provided by the Orchestra to my high school, as well as to the permission granted to me by my high school classroom teachers to be excused from classes early on Fridays. Every Orchestra concert was also a lesson for me: hearing standard and new repertoire, observing many great performances, and even having post-concert opportunities to meet with Mr. Hinger and Mr. Abel (and occasionally with percussionists, Charles Owen or Michael Bookspan too) to congratulate them and to talk about the performances.
When did you decide to pursue a career in music and did you have a specific goal?
By the time I was a senior in high school I knew I wanted to become an orchestral percussionist, largely because of the significant influence of my fellow percussion students in Philadelphia. Although I didn’t fully appreciate it until decades later, I had received substantial inspiration and support in an invaluable process of lateral learning from my peers. Names that come to mind are: Barry Cooney, Lee Gurst, Bill Hinger, Matthew Hopkins, Dimitri Kauriga, Ken Momeyer, Mike Rosen, John Soroka, Mark Sunkett, Mike Udow, Richard Wiener, and of course, my future colleague in NEXUS, Russell Hartenberger.
In 1963 I applied and was accepted to three music schools: Temple University, the University of Michigan, and the Eastman School of Music. I decided on the Eastman School largely because it was the same school attended by both Fred Hinger and Alan Abel. Both studied with the School’s revered percussion teacher, William G. Street, who had a long list of his former students playing in some of the leading American orchestras. Since the early 1920s Mr. Street had been on the Eastman School’s faculty and at the same time he was performing as the Principal Percussionist (1922 – 1931) and then Principal Timpanist (1931 – 1956) in the Rochester Civic/Philharmonic Orchestra.
My freshman year at Eastman began in the fall semester of 1964. My private lessons with Mr. Street were focused on developing a basic two-mallet technique on marimba using his Daily Dozen warmups (scales and arpeggios in all keys), and the progressive etudes in the Morris Goldenberg Modern School for Xylophone, Marimba, and Vibraphone. Timpani lessons focused on producing a good sound and stroke on timpani using the Gardner Modern Method for Timpani (1919 – 1944), and the snare drum lessons focused on playing techniques using the Goldenberg Modern School for Snare Drum, and Modern Rudimental Swing Solos (1941) by Charley Wilcoxin. Over the following two years my lessons gradually included orchestral timpani repertoire, especially the symphonies of Mozart, Beethoven, and Brahms while playing along with recordings.
In one lesson during my sophomore year (1965/66) Mr. Street told me that the Rochester Civic Orchestra (the core orchestra of the Rochester Philharmonic) needed a section percussionist to play in Pictures At an Exhibition by Mussorgsky/Ravel for one performance at the Rochester Institute of Technology. He asked me if I would be able to do it because I had already joined the local Musicians’ Union to play weekend wedding gigs. Since 1930 the Civic orchestra had employed only one full-time percussionist, and in 1965/66 that position was filled by Jack Moore. It was normal practice for the orchestra’s personnel manager to ask Mr. Street to recommend Eastman percussion students whenever the percussion section required augmentation. Fortunately for me, there were not enough junior, senior, or graduate students available, so I accepted and as the low player on the list, I was assigned the xylophone and Eb chime parts. Even more fortunately, during my junior year the entire senior percussion class was vacant, so I became the Civic Orchestra’s first-call extra percussionist, under the new full-time Principal Percussionist, Robin Engelman. I remained in the first-call position playing in most of the orchestra’s education and subscription Philharmonic concerts until I graduated.
John H. Beck, another Eastman alumnus, was also teaching in the Eastman School’s percussion department during my student days. After serving in the United States Marine Band in Washington, D.C., he returned to Rochester in the 1950s and eventually became the Principal Timpanist of the Rochester Civic (and Philharmonic) Orchestra. At the Eastman School in 1964 he was teaching percussion students in the pre-college Preparatory Department. He also supervised and conducted the Eastman Percussion Ensemble. When Mr. Street retired at the end of my Junior year, John became the School’s (and my) top percussion teacher throughout my senior year. Within a year John and I became colleagues in Rochester’s Civic/Philharmonic Orchestra.
One of the great things about the Eastman School throughout my student days was that because of the amazingly high performance level of the Eastman students, the level of lateral learning was also very high on all instruments. Among the inspiring students who greatly influenced me was my classmate, Ruth McLean, who was a very strong orchestral player, particularly on keyboard percussion and cymbals, and of course, she was my soon-to-be life-long spouse. Other significant influencers at the Eastman School were Bob Becker (a future colleague in NEXUS), Steve Gadd, John McNeill, Bill Platt, Harrison Powley, and Ted Small. Of course the Principal Percussionists of the Rochester Civic Orchestra were inspiring too: Norman Fickett (1962-1965), Jack Moore (1965-1966), and Robin Engelman (1966-1968), who would also be a future colleague in NEXUS.
Do you focus on a specific area of percussion?
From grade school through college (1954 – 1968), and into my early professional years (1968 – 1971), my focus was primarily on ensemble playing. Increasingly on symphony orchestra repertoire, but secondarily on concert band (or wind ensemble) repertoire, big band repertoire, and small dance band combo arrangements. By my high school years the focus on symphony orchestra repertoire was mainly the result of regularly attending Philadelphia Orchestra concerts, which had enabled me to hear a significant portion of the orchestral canon, performed at a very high level by teachers whom I had come to know personally, and who freely shared their passion for, and insights into, the music. These experiences enabled me to form an understanding of the music and to be deeply touched, not just by the percussion parts, but by the music as a whole, and its ability to generate an ever-widening emotional response that included elements of nostalgia, mystery, sorrow, joy, and more.
Also important were my experiences in performing orchestral music, especially the music of Tchaikovsky and Rimsky-Korsakov in the All-Philadelphia Senior Orchestra, and the Philadelphia Youth Orchestra. Both gave me a critical insight into performing in an ensemble, mainly by listening first, and then fitting-in with (or on particular occasions standing out from) the other players.
In 1971 NEXUS was formed, and from that time forward a budding focus on music for percussion ensemble gradually increased until 1995, when I decided to step away from my position as Principal Percussionist in the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra to devote my professional energy to music performed by NEXUS. For the first few years after NEXUS was formed, the group’s concert repertoire comprised entirely of free-form improvised music, performed on an array of percussion instruments from non-Western musical traditions, that had been collected by the members of the ensemble. NEXUS became enamored with the ability to spontaneously create sounds that deeply engaged us and our audiences. And by 1974, the NEXUS repertoire started to expand into other musical genres, almost all of which were completely outside of the western percussion ensemble paradigm prior to the formation of NEXUS:
Novelty Ragtime Music
Popular music from the early 20th century featuring the xylophone, much of which had been composed by George Hamilton Green in the 1920s, and which by the 1970s had been almost completely forgotten and set aside, especially in the academic world of conservatories and music schools. Green’s music (and the light or popular music of other composers from that era) was generally considered not to be appropriate for serious study. In 1974, NEXUS member Bob Becker arranged George Green’s Rainbow Ripples (1926) for the five NEXUS members. The arrangement featured a solo xylophone accompanied by two (four-octave) marimbas, with two players on each marimba. By 1976 after the release of a Direct-to-Disc LP recording titled, NEXUS Ragtime Concert, (and also NEXUS CD #10284) which contained eleven such arrangements, this instrumentation soon became a worldwide standard for percussion ensemble arrangements of Green’s and other composers’ ragtime music.
Music Composed by NEXUS Members for Percussion Ensemble with Orchestra
Until the 1970s works for percussion ensemble and orchestra were virtually non-existent. A unique focus of NEXUS in the group’s early years was music composed by NEXUS members themselves for percussion ensemble and orchestra. Except for Michael Craden, who was self-taught, most of the NEXUS members: Bob Becker, Robin Engelman, Russell Hartenberger, John Wyre, and myself had been schooled in classical orchestral percussion. Robin, John, and I were already full-time musicians in professional symphony orchestras (Rochester Philharmonic and Toronto Symphony), over time we had formed connections with orchestra conductors and managers, who were willing and able to present NEXUS as a guest ensemble.
In 1974 NEXUS performed John Wyre’s Bells with the Chautauqua (NY) Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Boris Brott. In that same year my own composition, The Stringless Harp, was performed by NEXUS with the Courtenay (British Columbia) Symphony Orchestra, under Simon Streatfeld. Both of these works incorporated NEXUS solo improvisations on non-Western percussion instruments that were not common to orchestral music: tuned gongs, bells, ethnic drums, and various home made sound sources.
In 1978, and again in 1983, John Wyre’s Connexus was performed by NEXUS with the Toronto Symphony under Andrew Davis, who conducted it again in 1984 with NEXUS and the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center. My own composition, The Birds, was premiered by NEXUS with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra in 1984, and thereafter with other orchestras, including a performance in 1988 with the Cleveland Orchestra under Jahja Ling at the Blossom Center.
Between 1992 and 1999 numerous performances were presented throughout the U.S. and Canada of the NEXUS’ orchestra pops program, From Rags To Riches, which featured original NEXUS orchestrations of the group’s ragtime repertoire. There were also many performances of the NEXUS Family Concert, The Story of Percussion in the Orchestra, which was also recorded by NEXUS with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra and narrated by Bill Moyers (NEXUS CD #10306).
African-Inspired Music
During the early 1970s, world music did not exist as a musical classification in music schools and record stores. NEXUS members Bob Becker and Russell Hartenberger were students in the world music program at Wesleyan University in Middletown, Connecticut working on their graduate degrees. In 1973 Bob and Russell arranged for NEXUS to spend a week at Wesleyan for meetings and performances with faculty members, including Abraham Adzenyah, a master drummer from Ghana and the teacher of the West African drumming courses. Having learned and performed a few drumming pieces with Adzenyah, NEXUS added those pieces into the repertoire of their solo concerts, a number of which, (including foreign tour concerts) featured Abraham as guest master drummer.
One positive outcome of playing this repertoire for the conservatory trained members of NEXUS, was the ability to play fixed compositions entirely from memory, without the necessity to read music notation. This way of making music, with a heightened focus on listening, was ultimately applied to the other genres of NEXUS repertoire, even when it was necessary to read notation.
While a student at Wesleyan, Bob Becker had also worked with Paul Berliner, a master of the mbira (African thumb piano) who had lived and studied in Zimbabwe. Bob soon acquired the ability to play the instrument, and thereafter accompanied by NEXUS, the work Tongues, became a standard feature in NEXUS solo programs for decades.
Original Compositions by NEXUS members
Another unique focus of NEXUS was programming comprised mainly of compositions and arrangements made for NEXUS by NEXUS members themselves, as in these selected examples:
Bob Becker Compositions:
Cymbal (NEXUS CD #10262)
Mudra, Turning Point, with three other compositions (NEXUS CD #10328)
Unseen Child, Wings (NEXUS CD # 10915)
Palta (CBC MUSICA VIVA CD #2-1037)
Bill Cahn Compositions:
Fauna (NEXUS CD #10262)
The Birds (NEXUS CDs #10251 and #10306)
Kebjar-Bali, Voices, with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra (CD #10317)
In Ancient Temple Gardens (CBC MUSICA VIVA CD #2-1037)
Rosewood Dreaming, composed for Leigh Howard Stevens (NEXUS CD #10612)
Just Sing (NEXUS CD # 10915)
Wright’s Lessons, with the Amadeus Chorale (NEXUS CD #11020)
Robin Engelman Compositions:
Bridge
Remembrance (NEXUS CD #10262)
Lullaby for Esmé (NEXUS CD # 10612)
Imaru to Sankalai no Uta, with three other pieces (NEXUS CD # 10915)
Russell Hartenberger Compositions:
The Invisible Proverb (NEXUS CD #10713)
Telisi Odyssey (NEXUS CD #10915)
Persian Songs, Moondog Suite (NEXUS CD # 10926)
Requiem (NEXUS CD #11031)
Red River (NEXUS CD #11053)
Garry Kvistad Compositions:
Tiki Time
Mallet Phase, by Steve Reich/arr. Kvistad
John Wyre Compositions:
Marubatoo (NEXUS CD #10262)
Connexus (NEXUS CD #10317)
Cloches pour Michael, with the Winnipeg Symphony (1982)
Utau Kane Nowa, NEXUS with the Festival Singers of Canada (1976)
NEXUS Group Compositions:
Amazing Space, Passage (NEXUS CD #10251)
Origins, and six other improvisations (NEXUS CD #10296)
Kichari, and three other improvisations (NEXUS 10410)
Out of The Blue, Time Flies, featuring Fritz Hauser (NEXUS CD # 10814)
African Funeral Song (CBC Music Viva CD #2-1037) (Black Sun CD # 15002-2)
Heat, Espresso and The Bed of Nails, with Tony Levin (Papa Bear Records)
Le Dialogue du Bois, and 12 other improvisations with Richard Stoltzman (BIS CD-1108)
Commissioned Works (Selected Examples)
Milton Barnes, Annexus, (CBC MUSICA VIVA CD #2-1037)
Gavin Bryars, One Last Bar, Then Joe Can Sing, (Point CD # 454 126-2)
Harry Freedman, Touchings, for NEXUS & the Esprit Orchestra (CBC CD #SMCD 5154)
John Hawkins, Dance Variations, (NEXUS CD #10511)
Jo Kondo, Nocturnal (NEXUS CD # 10612) and Under the Umbrella, (ALM CD #ALCO74)
Libby Larsen, DDT (NEXUS CD #10959)
Bruce Mather, Clos d’Audignac, (NEXUS CD #10511)
Carman Moore, HIT! with the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra (1978)
Steve Reich, Sextet, Mallet Quartet
Peter Schickele, Percussion Sonata No.2 Woodstock (NEXUS CD # 10713)
Toru Takemitsu, From Me flows What You Call Time, (SONY Classical CD #SK 63044)
James Tenny, Rune, (NEXUS CD #10511)
Ellen Taafe Zwilich, Rituals for Five Percussionists and Orchestra, (NAXOS CD #8.559268)
Music for Film (Selected Examples)
Journey, A Paul Almond Film (1975) Soundtrack Music by NEXUS
The Man Who Skied Down Everest, Crawley Films – Winner of an ACADEMY Award
(Best Documentary) in 1975. Soundtrack Music by NEXUS and Robert Aitken.
Teddy At the Throttle, a Mack Sennett silent film with music arranged by Bill Cahn.
A Page of Madness, a silent film by Teinosuke Kinugasa with music composed by Bill Cahn.
Le voyage dans la lune, a silent film by Georges Mélies with music arranged by Bill Cahn.
Fife & Drum Music of the 18th and 19th Centuries
Throughout the existence of NEXUS, rudimental drumming, in particular the fife and drum military music of the 18th and 19th centuries has been included in its repertoire. Largely because this music was the doorway for NEXUS members into learning percussion in the 1950s and 60s, beginning with study of the snare drum. The version most performed by NEXUS was titled, Ancient Military Aires (a medley of four drum beatings): Closing the Long Roll, Three Camps, The Downfall of Paris, and Hell On the Wabash. These beatings still remain as a traditional favorite of drummers in the New England Fife and Drum Corps.
Standard Works Featuring Percussion (Selected Examples)
Bela Bartok, Sonata for Two Pianos & Percussion, NEXUS at the Ojai Music Festival (2007) w/Pierre Lurent Aimard & Tamara Stefanovich
John Cage, Third Construction, (NEXUS CD # 10251), w/Cage present in 1982 and 1987
Henry Cowell, Concerto for Percussion (1958), NEXUS with the La Jolla Symphony (1990)
Péter Eötvös, Sonata for Two Pianos & Percussion, Ojai Music Festival (2007)
w/ Pierre Lurent Aimard & Tamara Stefanovich
Lou Harrison, Flute Concerto, with Maria Piccinini (1995)
Karel Husa, Concerto for Percussion and Wind Ensemble, at University of Nebraska (1988)
Jo Kondo, Under the Umbrella, NEXUS at Tully Hall, Lincoln Center (1977)
Oliver Messiaen, Oiseaux Exotiques, Marlboro Music Festival (1972)
Carl Orff, Catulli Carmina, NEXUS with the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir (1992)
Krzysztof Penderecki, Psalms of David, Guelph (Ontario) Spring Festival (1975)
Steve Reich, Music for Pieces of Wood, with Steve Reich at PASIC (1982)
R. Murray Schaffer, Epitaph for Moonlight, with the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir (1992)
Rodion Shchedrin, Carmen Suite, (1984, 1989, 1992, 1995, 2018)
Igor Stravinsky, Les Noces, Marlboro Music Festival (1968), Ojai Music Festival (2007)
Toru Takemitsu, Munari by Munari, British Arts Council Tour of England (1978)
Is there a specific genre you enjoy performing most?
I have frequently been asked if I have a favorite kind of music (or instrument), and my automatic response is usually, Whatever music (or instrument) I happen to be playing. That being said (and true), there has frequently been a single genre that is incrementally above the others. However, different genres have come to the forefront at different times: Elementary School – rudimental snare drumming (enjoyment in the acquisition of technique); Middle School – drum set in big band and combo (enjoyment in the acquisition of technique); High School – timpani in band and orchestra (enjoyment in ensemble performance); College – symphony orchestra & wind ensemble repertoire (enjoyed listening & performing); Early Professional – symphony orchestra repertoire (enjoyment in listening & performing); Mid-Professional – chamber music (enjoyment in the ensemble music of NEXUS).
Who impacted your musical growth the most?
I have been influenced primarily by the teachers and colleagues whom I have been able to know personally, and from whom I have been able to observe in many inspiring performances. The names that stand out most are my teachers: Alan Abel, John H. Beck, Fred D. Hinger, Joseph Huttlin Jr., Bruno Rondinelli, and William G. Street. In regard to colleagues this would be: John H. Beck, Bob Becker, Ruth Cahn, Robin Engelman, Leigh Gurst, Russell Hartenberger, Matthew Hopkins, Dimitri Kauriga, Garry Kvistad, and John Wyre.
What teaching positions have you held?
1968 to 1971 – Eastman School of Music Preparatory Department – Instructor of Percussion
1995 to 2015 – University of Toronto (with NEXUS) – Artist-In-Residence
1997 & 2008 – Northwestern University – Mini-Residency
1998 to 2014 – Showa Academy of Music & Arts, Kawasaki, Japan – Artist-In-Residence
2000 to 2005 – Banff Centre for the Arts – Artist-In-Residence – Mini-Residency
2000 – Hochschule für Musik, Detmold, Germany – Mini-Residency
2001 – University of Ohio – Mini-Residency
2002 – University of North Texas – Mini-Residency
2003 – University of Missouri at Kansas City – Mini-Residency
2006 to 2015 – Eastman School of Music, fall semester – Associate Professor of Percussion
2008 – University of Michigan – Mini-Residency
2022 – Kent State University – Mini-Residency
What composers do you identify with?
Orchestral repertoire is with: J.S. Bach (beauty in every note), Bela Bartok (intensity of emotion), L.v.Beethoven (great timpani writing), Aaron Copland (great percussion writing), Claude Debussy (emotional nuances), Gustav Mahler (approachable depth of emotion), W.A. Mozart (beautiful simplicity), Carl Orff (great percussion writing), Sergei Rachmaninoff (Russian passion), Pyotr Tchaikovsky (great cymbal writing), Richard Strauss (great orchestration), and Igor Stravinsky (mastery of mixed-meters). NEXUS repertoire is with: John Cage (imagination in instrumentation, and complexity of cross-rhythms), Steve Reich (the percussionists’ Bach), and anything by my NEXUS colleagues.
Do you get nervous before you play?
Virtually every performance has generated what I call butterflies, which is a low-to-medium level of nervousness for me. I learned long ago that as long as the butterflies don’t take control over my performance, their presence can actually be a good thing: energizing and enhancing my performance experience. This is a concern faced by most (if not all) performers at all levels. I have been asked many times by students if there is a way to deal with excessive nervousness, and there are several relaxation techniques that I now advocate.
First, I always caution against the use of beta-blockers because of my own experience. When these potent medications first appeared, they were reported to have solved the problem of excessive nervousness, and because I was in a position of authority in advising students, I made the decision to use the medication for one performance in order to make a personal assessment. My experience was that I had no nervousness – none. But, there was a cost: my performance had none of the excitement and energy that I had come to expect, and enjoy. In fact, I almost didn’t care whether or not I was playing well. I had actually missed entirely the experience that motivated me to want to play music in the first place. So I asked myself, What’s the point? I have never used beta-blockers again after that one experience.
I have found that there are other effective ways to keep nervousness under control and still keep the excitement. I use a relaxation technique whenever I become nervous and also whenever I just want to listen to music mindfully. In a comfortable standing position I close my eyes and stand quietly for a few moments. Then I mentally focus on relaxing my shoulders, and then one-by-one, I focus on feeling my arms, torso, and legs relax. It’s important to develop a mindful sense of how one’s relaxed body feels in order to be able to refer to that as a model. When I feel that my body is relaxed, I take three deep breaths: each slowly with a long inhale to fill the lungs as much as possible, then a pause for a few seconds, and then a long exhale as slowly as possible. Other relaxation techniques also work well for performers to manage their nervousness such as: Transcendental Meditation – quietly focusing mentally on a word repetition or mantra; Yoga – focusing on body positioning; Feldenkrais exercises – sequences of subtle, mindful movements designed to enhance posture, flexibility, balance, coordination, and overall ease of movement; and daily aerobic exercises like jogging, hiking, brisk walking, cycling, swimming, etc.
At the risk of contradicting my earlier comments regarding my avoidance of beta-blockers, and now after having offered several alternate non-chemical techniques to address nervousness, there is one situation: a job audition, for which I might consider the use of a beta-blocker, but only after receiving advice from a doctor in advance. My experiences with job auditions, both as an auditionee, and as a jurist, are that the most important factor usually is playing the right notes, at the right dynamic, and at the right tempo. That may be the only factor on which all members of an audition committee can agree. Expression and musical excitement may be less agreed-upon. I have never used a beta-blocker in an audition. But I can imagine a scenario like a personal audition for a job (as opposed to playing in an ensemble), where a one-time use of a beta-blocker might reasonably be considered.
Do you ever make a mistake while performing?
One important lesson I learned early is that no one is perfect, and anyone can make a mistake. I have certainly made mistakes, including some BIG ones, but after swallowing hard, and feeling embarrassed (assuming anyone else has noticed), with severe self-blame, the sun does come up on a new day the next morning. In time, you may even have an entertaining story to tell your friends. But is there anything you can do? Here’s my two-step advice for everyone: ask yourself, Why did I make that mistake? Then ask, Is there anything I could have done to avoid making it? I would also suggest remembering two tongue-in-cheek sayings used by professionals: To err is human, to admit it is stupid! And, Let it go!
Has your practice regimen changed from when you were a student?
I have always considered practice to be a very poor substitute for performing, though of course, it’s necessary. With experience over time, after seeing a new piece of music for the first time, it becomes possible to develop a reliable estimate of the amount of practice time required to prepare the music for a performance. For me, it was fairly late in high school when I was introduced to keyboard percussion (mainly the xylophone), so I’ve always had to practice keyboard parts more (sometimes a lot more) than most other percussion instruments that have been easier for me to learn.
For example, in 2009 when NEXUS co-commissioned Steve Reich’s Mallet Quartet, I had the Vibraphone 2 part, and I knew it would require months of practice for me to learn it, so I created a basic schedule of goals and dates. For example, by X Date I wanted to be able to play through the first two sections of the first movement three times without having to stop (while still working on the rest of the piece, of course). Every section of all three movements was approached in the same manner. Most importantly, I set a date one month in advance of the first rehearsal when I wanted to be able to play through all three movements three times without having to stop. My self-imposed schedule ultimately involved three months of daily practice, which was extremely difficult to manage while still continuing with my regular responsibilities at home and at work. I learned during those practice sessions to spend most of my time focusing on sections that I still couldn’t play, instead of wasting a lot of valuable time on over-playing sections I had already learned to play.
If I run into a problem playing anything on any instrument in order to get the music to sound the way I want it to sound, I keep experimenting with possibilities that I imagine might work until I find one that produces the result I want. I might try another sticking; or playing with another kind of stroke; or in the case of triangle and tambourine, suspending the instrument differently; or in the case of cymbals, trying different ones, on and on until I find a way to produce the desired result.
For instance, I once had to play a piece with an extensive pandero (Brazilian tambourine) part. I had never studied the pandero, and I knew that there wouldn’t be enough time to learn the traditional technique (palm, thumb, and finger strokes). However, I knew how to produce a few basic sounds, so I experimented with my own finger strokes (eg. ’thum’ and ‘tak’), and I was able to get a sound result that worked well for that performance, mostly because the piece wasn’t traditional Brazilian music.
How do you define a good musician and a good teacher?
I would define a good musician as one who is flexible and able not only to serve the music but also able to work with other musicians in an ensemble. I have observed two kinds of musician temperaments: a soloist temperament in which the musician expects that everyone will follow him/her, and the ensemble temperament in which the musician tries to blend-in with the ensemble. Both of these temperaments are good when appropriate to the music.
I would define a good teacher as one who is capable of observing and assessing the needs of the student in order to improve his/her performance, and who also has the knowledge and skill to present information to the student that helps to address those needs. My ultimate goal as a teacher is to enable students to self-observe in order to identify and solve their own problems.
Over time both of these definitions have changed for me. Where once I sought to find the way to play with the correct technique, I now want to find a way to play using a technique that works for the music, and for me.
I can pinpoint the exact moment when this definition change happened. It was when I was still a student. In one of my lessons on snare drum technique, the teacher offered a rule: When playing a roll, keep the fingers motionless; don’t move your fingers. The teacher then proceeded to play a perfect silky-smooth soft snare drum roll. As the teacher played, I noticed that the teacher’s left-hand thumb and two opposing fingers were clearly moving up and down, and I went into a state of cognitive dissonance: should I trust what the teacher advised, or should I trust my own observation? When it became my turn to play a soft roll, I tried very hard to not move my fingers, and I also decided not to tell the teacher what I had observed. To this day I do not regret those decisions. But my take-away from that lesson was, Listen to what the teacher says, but also trust what is observed, and then decide what works for me. I consider that to have been the best snare drum lesson I ever had.
Do you think that performing and teaching are intrinsically intertwined?
Performing and teaching are intrinsically connected in the sense that both activities require self-observation, self-analysis, and problem solving. Both disciplines require a sensitivity to others involved in the activity, as well as skill in making appropriate responses to whatever is observed.
Has teaching made you a better musician?
Yes, because when assessing a student’s (or any musician’s) performance and questioning the best way (of multiple possibilities) to respond, it becomes almost inevitable that a teacher/musician will be better equipped and more inclined to apply the same tools to his/her own performance, observation, assessment, and problem solving.
What inspires you to compose?
I began composing when I was in high school. There were four teachers in the music department who were supportive and able to provide opportunities for my compositions to be performed on school concerts. My first compositions were short vocal pieces for the school chorus: Vocalise, which explored vocal harmonies on mono-syllables with no text, and Nothing Gold Can Stay, a four-part setting of the short poem by Robert Frost. Concurrently, I was able to take several music theory courses in high school, which provided me with a basic understanding of form and structure.
In my junior year of high school I joined the Settlement Music School Percussion Ensemble under Alan Abel, who motivated me with his encouragement of music composed by some of his students. In particular were the percussion pieces by Matthew Hopkins, a fellow student in the All-Philadelphia Senior Orchestra, and the one who first told me about Abel’s ensemble. I soon approached Mr. Abel with my first percussion composition, Miniature Suite, consisting of three short movements for six players. He was supportive and open to trying the new composition in a rehearsal, and the piece was soon programmed for a performance at an upcoming concert.
As a member of the school’s big band during my senior year of high school, I approached the teacher with my big band arrangement of the fourth movement of Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5. Again the teacher was supportive and my arrangement was rehearsed and scheduled for a performance. From such modest beginnings in high school to the present day, a common theme of my composing experience was that I had a favorable combination of advantages: 1) a close, supportive network of teachers and colleagues; 2) being a member of, or having a close connection with conductors or members of an orchestra or small ensemble; and 3) regular opportunities because of these connections for my compositions to be rehearsed and performed.
How do you feel when someone performs your work differently than you intended?
As a performer in a symphony orchestra and in small ensembles, and having worked with many composers in these organizations, my experience has been that whenever I have changed something in my part to make it more playable, more often than not the composer has agreed with the change, and in some cases even to the extent of re-writing the change into the score. That being said, if the composer (when present) or the conductor disagrees, I would always do my best to embrace their wishes.
As a composer, I have always been of the opinion that once my composition has been set to ink and paper, my work as a composer is done, although there may be a tweak or two after I’ve heard it. One possible exception to that rule-of-thumb occurs whenever I am either the conductor or one of the performers, in which case I may suggest something for a particular spot that contradicts my own score. Other than that, I have no problem with performers making whatever adjustments they deem necessary for their performance.
What motivated you to start William L. Cahn Publishing?
My early experiences with music publishers were disappointing. After signing one particular publishing contract, my composition was never published or promoted at all. In another case there was a total absence of any royalty payments, even when I knew my compositions were being regularly performed. The royalty payments that I actually received were mostly very modest. On the upside, at least there may have been some promotional value when the pieces were actually given performances.
With this in mind, I simply decided to publish my own compositions. Of course it was more work: forming a legal business, identifying a market, creating and maintaining a database of names and addresses, creating and sending regular promotional materials, keeping track of income and expenses, filing taxes, and more. However, the satisfaction was in knowing that 100% of the net income (after expenses) would be mine, and I would be able to know a little more about where and when my music was being performed.
Knowing what you know today, would you change how you prepared for your career?
I was very, very lucky in my formative years to have been surrounded by the wealth of musical resources that were available to students in the city of Philadelphia in the post-World-War-Two years. I benefited from a strong music education presence in the Philadelphia public schools: from daily access to many inspiring and supportive music teachers; from regular access to, and support from, professional musicians who performed and taught at the highest level; from regular opportunities to attend concerts of the Philadelphia Orchestra: and for opportunities to regularly perform along with other highly-motivated students in orchestras, bands, and ensembles; all of which were for free! Unfortunately, these kinds of rich resources are not available to students in many places.
What words of wisdom would you share with students?
My first questions to high school seniors and college students are: What do you want to do after you graduate? What kind of music do you listen to the most? And, Do you know the names(s) of anyone who is already doing exactly what you would like to do?
If a student is able to answer these questions with a degree of confidence, my advice is at the earliest possible opportunity, contact the person whose name you know, and arrange to have a meeting with that person, even if that person lives far away. The meeting might be a lesson, attending a performance, or observing a rehearsal followed by a brief greeting afterwards. It might be simply meeting at lunch or treating that person to a cup of coffee; or it might be a 10-minute Zoom meeting (strictly timed to avoid wearing out a welcome). Do whatever it takes to meet that person face-to-face. I once attended a masterclass given by Charles Owen, the Principal Percussionist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, who offered this excellent observation, It’s not who you know, IT’S WHO KNOWS YOU.
An in-person meeting is essentially about establishing an initial connection that can ultimately lead to being in that person’s network. Then, at the meeting, have a short list of questions to ask: Do you teach, and are you taking private students? Are periodic (monthly, bi-monthly) lessons possible? Is it possible for me to observe a rehearsal? And, What performing/teaching opportunities are available for percussionists in this region? Regardless of where or when a student graduates and begins to pursue a career (ie. make a living) in whatever field of music or teaching is chosen, he/she should be prepared for it to take anywhere from five to ten years to achieve that goal. While it is true that for a fortunate few their goal will be reached sooner, for most, and with persistence, it will take from five to ten years. So a plan will be needed to generate enough income to cover living expenses until your goal is reached.
If you would like to learn more about Mr. Cahn, please visit: https://www.nexuspercussion.com/
