INAUGURATION CEREMONY
Presidential Address
President Karen L. Zorn
November 4, 2007
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It is a tremendous honor to stand before you this afternoon as the new president of such a venerable institution. Thank you for your trust in me and your confidence in my leadership.
I am deeply honored by today’s celebration and by this public gathering, which acknowledges our shared commitment to the success of the Longy School of Music.
I want to extend my heartfelt thanks to the inauguration committee for planning such a wonderful day. Myran Parker-Brass and Wayman Chin our fearless co-chairs, Lyn Chamberlin and Cathy Cotton our ace project managers, Heather McCowen, Heidi Hendricks, Christine Hagg and Betsy Sloane. Thank you all. As you can see it does take a village—and that’s just for the parties!
And to the delegates from more than 20 schools, colleges and organizations who are here today, including the presidents of the New England Conservatory and Boston Conservatory—your presence means a great deal to me. Thank you all for your support as we step over this threshold together.
Thank you to Board of Trustee Chair Bonny Boatman for hiring me, and to all the speakers today for making up such nice things to say about me!
I knew Longy was a special place long before I arrived here, but it wasn’t until assuming this position that I found out why. I found a Board of Trustees and Board of Visitors for whom Longy is not just another appointment on your social calendar, but a place where you have made a sincere and deep commitment. I found a staff of highly dedicated and talented individuals who are closely connected to the mission and care fervently about their work. I found a faculty with tremendous distinction who are musicians in the world and set an extraordinary example for our students. And, perhaps most importantly, I found remarkable students and graduates who embody what Longy is and what Longy will become. It seems each week I meet a new alumnus or learn of some distinguished individual who at one time was a Longy student.
I’m so happy to have so many friends here today. Hello to my friends from Berklee College of Music. I miss you. I’m so touched by your presence. You may outnumber all the rest of us. Connie Kramer, my bassoon teacher and band director from Lena, Wisconsin, is here. I believe I was 10 when I started studying with you. Let’s see, you must have been about 12. My mother, Marion Zorn, and my aunt Elsie Zorn who endured many flight delays to make it here today. My daughter, Olivia, who does a dead-on impression of me whenever I need a little attitude adjustment. In fact, she could have delivered this speech today. My son, Julian, who announced to his preschool class that his mommy is now the president, and none of them asked what had happened to George W. Bush. And a special thank you to my husband, Greg Smucker, for his love and for re-upping his membership in the Karen Zorn fan club, even after six months in this job.
And finally to all the musicians who will help us celebrate today and tonight—our composers, John Morrison, Paul Brust and my dear friend Marti Epstein, for creating works of art for us today to remind us why we do what we do. And to the wonderful musicians performing this afternoon and tonight, I cannot thank you enough.
Twenty years ago I had just finished graduate school in Kansas City and I was trying to make my living as a musician—which meant I was working as a waitress. I come from a family of teachers, so I started out teaching piano students in their homes—which, for those of you who don’t know, is a less than ideal educational environment. If it’s not the phone ringing or the television blaring, it’s a younger sibling trying to play along with the lesson using a plastic hammer or a peanut butter sandwich.
And yes, to supplement my teaching income I was waiting tables at the “Longbranch Saloon”— this was Kansas City, after all. The Longbranch Saloon had the reputation of having the “meanest waitresses in town.” Having just finished three years of conservatory training, I was up to the task. And I took every playing gig that came along, which meant that I provided a lot of background music at fancy parties and special events. At that time, I was driving a fairly unattractive car, which had one distinguishing feature—none of its doors actually opened from the outside.
In fact, the only way to get into the car was through the hatchback. I would drive my “car” to these gigs in some of the most beautiful neighborhoods of Kansas City and think very carefully about where to park. The strategy was—at least three blocks away from the party—always to search for a spot that was off-the-beaten path, so that none of the guests, on their way home from a delightful evening would catch sight of me, the party pianist, crawling into her car through the trunk. And I remember thinking one night, as I caught my velvet dress on the emergency brake, “so this is what being a musician is all about.”
Since then I’ve had the luck and hard-won opportunity to explore a lot of different ways of making a living as a musician: as a performer, piano teacher, member of pit orchestras, chamber musician, staff accompanist, author of method books, arranger, composer for theatre, chamber musician, leader of a community music school, associate provost at another institution across the river, and now as the president of this remarkable institution.
I share this with you not so much as a story of gee-look-how-far-I’ve-come, but as the story of someone who knows what it’s like to struggle with finding a way to connect with the world through music.
Many of you have heard me say this before, but what drew me to this institution is, quite simply, Longy’s mission: “Preparing musicians to make a difference in the world.” A simple phrase, but one that really sets Longy apart. It suggests that this school will not only provide a rigorous musical education, but that Longy will also help students find a way to use their skills to connect with the real world as musicians. And I believe this is something new for music education.
There was a time in my life when I felt really disillusioned with the idea of music education. I promised myself I would never take a job at a school where young musicians were churned out every year expecting a lucrative performing career, only to have those hopes dashed and to have to make a living working in restaurants and record stores and crawling into their cars through the hatchback.
And that is why I came to Longy. And every day, in our conservatory, preparatory and continuing studies programs, our teachers are instilling in students ways of learning and thinking about the world that will profoundly affect their lives, whether they choose music as a career or as an avocation.
Over the last six months, all of us have worked hard to articulate a vision for Longy that will guide us in fulfilling the promise of our mission. We’ve included the vision statement on the back of your program. I want to mention some ideas in the vision that I’m really excited about.
But let me preface these remarks by talking for just a moment about what making a difference in the world means. All music, every musician and all music instruction have an impact, make a difference and create change at some level. It may be intangible—the way music instruction at an early age opens young minds to new paths of learning. Or the way disciplined rehearsal may yield an inspired performance that changes the life of the performer. Or how attending a concert provokes one’s thoughts and emotions.
Or the change may be highly visible…the way music lessons in a disadvantaged population can offer hope…or how music therapy can rebuild neural connections damaged in an accident…or how Palestinian and Israeli children may build lasting bonds of friendship as members of the same orchestra.
We won’t prescribe for our students the way in which they will impact the world. But we want them, as they are training, to constantly consider and explore the ways they can make a difference—to engage their studies through the lens of change—and with the knowledge that we will give them, the support and the tools they need to figure out it.
Therefore, our vision is that, in order to prepare musicians to make a difference in the world, we will ask them and train them to be two things: extraordinary musicians and entrepreneurial leaders.
Longy was founded to provide the highest level of instruction for musicians—and that will not change. I am awed by the level of talent in the faculty and student body and by the rigor of our curriculum. It is simply among the most intense music programs in the country, maybe in the world. And we will continue to ask students to perform, compose and teach at a level that will enable them to enrich the art form, to compete for jobs and opportunities with students from any other institution, and to have a lifelong love affair with music.
But the music world today is incredibly competitive. There are thousands of excellent musicians out there. To have a chance to make a difference in the world through music—through a career in music or as an amateur—our students and graduates must be more than excellent musicians.
I was walking in SoHo not long ago in New York City, and I saw a car trying to get onto busy Houston Street from a side alley. The traffic on Houston was moving quickly, and no one would yield to allow this timid driver in. The cars behind him quickly became impatient and began to honk. Finally the driver of the cab directly behind him got out of his car and screamed, “GO! GO! NO ONE IS GOING TO OPEN THE DOOR FOR YOU!” The poor driver got the point, nudged the nose of his car into traffic and went on his way.
For better or worse, the same is true in the world of music. No one is going to open the door for you. No one gets discovered anymore. There are hundreds of applicants for every orchestra gig and teaching position. And the chance to have a solo performing career comes along only for a very lucky few. To have opportunities in music, to have a career or find fulfillment doing something you love, to make a difference in the world through music, our students must be able to open their own doors. So along with training students of all ages to be incredible musicians, we plan to train them to be leaders—musical entrepreneurs. People who create opportunity.
Musicians who start things. Who see needs and find new ways to fill them. Musicians who open their own doors—even if that door is a hatchback.
Of course, that sounds great, but can a small music school with limited resources really make that happen? Let me share with you some of the things that are in the works right now, and imagine the impact they may have.
Imagine if Longy offered students in our conservatory, preparatory or continuing studies divisions the chance to create, plan and carry out great ideas that make a difference. Maybe it’s a student-run concert series. Or a composition project, designed for a particular public space. Or maybe, as my friend Ruth Mendelssohn has done, it’s a nonprofit that travels this country recording greetings, in music and spoken word, by American school children from all walks of life, to be shared with their counterparts in Iraq.
Imagine providing our alumni with seed money to develop their ideas after they leave Longy—a little pot of gold they can use to build a viable business or endeavor, paying back the money with little or no interest so successive generations of graduate would have the same opportunity.
Imagine creating a fellowship—a third year of Longy’s conservatory that would allow our students to work on a community project after finishing their studies—and give them a year of professional experience that will launch them into the world.
Imagine a curriculum that includes training in marketing, fundraising, founding a 501(c)3, social networking and entrepreneurship. Imagine partnerships with local companies to provide musical instruction and performance in the workplace. Imagine our preparatory students having the chance to travel in a musical exchange with their peers in other countries. Imagine developing new ways of connecting with our audiences. Maybe it means breaking down the traditional concert structure and protocol to provide more explanation about how the music works and what to listen for.
Imagine exploring new venues for performance—finding new audiences by training students to perform in places as diverse as the corporate workplace, the street, the subway, the school, the shelter and the nightclub. In fact, I’m happy to announce today we have sealed a deal with the Regatta Bar at the Charles Hotel to present a series of chamber music evenings “where you least expect it”—in a jazz club.
And imagine a school highly focused on building relationships. Music, after all, is an art form highly dependent upon the relationships not only between artist and performer, but between student and teacher, fellow musicians, composers and players. Imagine significant relationships with the cities of Cambridge and Boston. With the corporations in our community.
And with our competitors. I’m very fond of the notion that when faced with competition, one can alternately choose to think collaboration instead. And in meeting with Richard Ortner of Boston Conservatory and Tony Woodcock of NEC as well as the heads of other programs and corporations, the possibilities of collaborating on a variety of ideas are tantalizing.
Hopefully you get the sense of the potential we have before us. And as we move to explore it, I want to reflect for just a moment on the kind of environment we want Longy to be. Our vision statement speaks of Longy as an incubator for great ideas and great musicians. Incubation involves warmth, support, safety, nourishment and all the nutrients essential to real growth.
But I think there’s more to it. We want our students—from the earliest learners to our most seasoned—to be not only great musicians, but great human beings. Tolstoy said, “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” Caring for the experience of others, supporting one another in our quests, seeking success by helping others succeed—these are qualities that I found at Longy when I arrived—qualities we will continue to foster at every level of our institution.
I am thrilled to be here with you today. I think we have the potential to do so much, to impact the lives of so many, and to help redefine the landscape of music making. Once in awhile I feel a little overwhelmed by the enormity of fulfilling the vision we’ve set for ourselves. But then I’m am buoyed by the energy, the talent, the dedication, the excitement and sheer joy of making music and learning together at Longy, and I can’t wait to see what is going to happen next.
Thank you for your trust in me. For your support. And mostly, for helping me to open this door.
In return, I promise to you, the students, staff, faculty, trustees and friends of Longy, to keep my door open, and to give you the support that each of you need to open door after door on your own. Thank you.
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