Ode to my Concert Shoes

It was love at first sight.  I was in an upscale shoe boutique, lured in by the "SALE" sign, and there you were.  Black peau de soie pumps.  3" heel, a height I knew to be non-life threatening.  But the real selling point was-drum roll- your rhinestones around your toe box!  My heart was racing.  You fit beautifully. Even at 50% off, you cost more than any pair of shoes I had ever owned.

That was 30 years ago, and my love for you has grown substantially over the years.  You never let me down.  You always look beautiful.  I can dress you up, or dress you down-you go with every concert dress or dress pants I own.  You are fabric; you give as I stand through long flute and harp concerts, and my feet stay comfy, my balance secure (or as secure as it can be.)

You have been with me in moments of triumph, sheer terror, through 2 hour concerts that end with 3 high D's on the last page, through 2 pregnancies.  You have been to Carnegie Hall, Avery Fischer Hall, Philadelphia's Academy of Music and Kimmel Center, the Bethlehem Bach Festival, and hundreds of venues nationwide.  You stood by me when a concert presenter had me walk through a construction zone in order to play "Syrinx" in the dark from the back of a hall undergoing renovation. 

And there have been some humorous moments.  Remember the time I pulled out to pass a slow moving soprano on a marble floor?  You didn't let me slip and fall while in a long gown and holding a 14 K flute.  I will always be grateful for that one!  Or how about the time the American flag blew over in an flute/harp concert, narrowly missing me; causing the audience to gasp in horror? Or the orchestra concert when I was given a solo bow and stood up on the hem of my skirt?  Your leather soles let me slide my feet and get into a standing position.

In my life, few individuals have been as dependable as you.  And now, even though you are slightly faded, and some of your rhinestones have fallen out, and you have a couple of threads that need to be clipped, I will continue to wear you with pride.  We began this journey together, and we will stay together until it is time to hang us both up.  

You are my very own Velveteen Rabbit.

FLUTE STORIES!

Flute Stories are coming in!  Please enjoy these glimpses into flutists and their relationships with their flutes. 

My flute is an absolute constant in my life. For the past 8 years, she has always been there for me- waiting patiently in her case. She doesn't care if I am angry or sad or frustrated and over the years I have learned how much more she had in her- she is capable of so much that I am able to be a lifelong learner. She is so meaningful to me that I named her (Delilah) after a few weeks from her birthplace of Brannen Brothers! She's also spoiled, never having been played without me first brushing my teeth immediately before. Am I crazy for it? Others may think so, but as long as I have Delilah I have a consistent place to escape to that has brought me the most emotional, difficult, and rewarding moments of my life.

N.K.P., Valdosta, GA



My Brannen, for whom I originally waited 9 months (talk a Papa in the waiting room) has been with me now for 29 years. Playing gigs with Sammy, Sinatra, Liza, Mel Torme, Ella, all the Motown acts, plays, recording dates and numerous other jobs!
  We've trekked the globe on tours, but have mostly been happiest playing duets with friends.
 My wife Lee Ann and I were so impressed with the flute (OK, I was) we named our first pup, a Rottweiler, "Mrs. Brannen"!
  But sadly, even though we had a great run it's time for me to find a new partner. The flute that is! Maybe someday you'll be writing about #559!

 R.P., Egg Harbor Township, NJ

 I play on a Yamaha 481H. It has a b foot, open holes, inline g, sterling silver head and body, and silver plated keys. To me it is a very nice flute and has been with me for a very long time. It has also gone to many places with me and was used in honor groups and many auditions. When I first got it, it felt much nicer than my previous flute. The better sound was already very obvious. It also felt much more comfortable. When I brought it home it was about two weeks before an audition. Everyone kept convincing me to use my old closed holed flute that was all silver plated. Unfortunately, I wanted to use my new flute. I brought it to my private teacher to make the final decision and to her it was very obvious that my new one was much better. She automatically said to use my new one on the audition. I am hoping to upgrade to a nicer flute especially with a C# trill key for college. But currently, this flute is doing well. But, if I do not upgrade I will at least get a new headjoint for it. This flute has been amazing and has served me well and I intend to keep it forever. Upgrading anything about the flute will change the feel forever and will never be the same. Currently, this flute has the perfect feel. Although there are better flutes out in existence, this flute will always be a good back up in any event.

 T.C., Valencia, CA

Congratulations to the three first responders to the "My Flute's Story" project!  The Erv Monroe "Special Fingerings" book has been sent out to you!  Here are the other stories that were submitted:

I’m a Haynes flute, basic model closed hole, no Gizmo no B foot .  I was born in Boston in 1932.  My memory fails me who bought me but I ended up being sold to a no-talent Jr, High Schooler named Jay who just learning to play.  Wow, did I take some abuse.  I can’t believe I sounded so bad.  Eventually Jay went from dreadful to mediocre and played me through Jr High, High School, University, and Grad School. I will say he did take good care of me and overhauled me when I needed new pads. He even made me a beautiful figured Mahogany case when the old Haynes case wore out. He was a better technician than a musician.  

Jay got married, had a daughter, .who had some talent.   He gave me to her in Jr. High School.  I was subsequently stolen from her locker in High School. I was devastated.   I was insured, but Nationwide Insurance dragged their feet and refused to pay untilI threatened with a suit.  Finally on the day the check finally arrived a call came in from the Fairfax County Police Dept.  They had recovered me.  A juvenile had tried to pawn me in Washington D.C.  The pawn shop owner, suspecting it unlikely that a young punk with hat on backwards was the true owner of a Haynes, He called Haynes who informed him I was stolen.  The pawnshop owner stalled the kid and called the cops.  No Jay didn’t keep the check.

MY PARENTS BOUGHT ME A USED HAYNES FLUTE IN 1947

Jay’s daughter went on to the University of Delaware, played me in the marching band and was selected as one of two from the State to play in the All American Band which played for Reagan’s inauguration. 

After college I went back to Jay.  After a long slack period he resumed playing at age 72.  He is now a member of the Mid-shore Community Band.  Last Fall he had the great honor of playing with the Baltimore Symphony as part of the Rusty Musicians program.  Although he now has a new Haynes from Joan Sparks, I still sound good, although I had to suffer the indignity of having a Powell headjoint thrust upon me.  The suffering was short lived however when Jay recut my headjoint and I now out did the Powell.  Serves him right!

It’s a little sad to think of being put away after all these years.  But on the other hand I think of the good times when I was really played hard and the pleasure and sense of accomplishment I gave my owner.

I’m hoping be put to good use by one of Jay’s Grandchildren.  It’s been a great ride and I look forward to many years of music making.  C you looking in tune.

T.L.  Baltimore, MD

I play on a solid silver Mateki 052 with a 14K gold Nagahara head.  I always swore I would not be a “headjoint shopper.”  “I don’t believe in that," I thought.  Life has a way of surprising us.

 I met my flute when I was 14 years old.  It came in the mail – one of several I had on trial in the difficult task of purchasing a new flute.  To complicate matters, I was living in New Mexico, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and only 14 years old, so mail was really the only option for me at the time.  Flutes came and went, and when I tried this one, sure, I thought it was great.  I thought all the flutes I was trying were great.  I was 14 – what did I know about buying a professional instrument?  Luckily I had an incredibly talented teacher and some very savvy musical parents who were very influential in my choice. 

It was only years later, that I realized what a gem of an instrument it really is.  (It has a C# trill and a D# roller!)  I auditioned for college on it, and grad school.  I won my first orchestral job as a professional on this flute.  I played on the original headjoint for years.  I was always one of those people who dreaded trying new instruments (still am!), because I am afraid of finding something I will like better than mine, but not have the means to purchase it.  So I content my self with what I have.  However, one day, at a small reunion of my graduate flute friends, we were up in our teacher’s studio playing for one another and our teacher, Marina Piccinini.  One of my good friends gave me her gold Nagahara headjoint and said, “Here, try this.”  No way, I said.  She pressed.  I caved and slid her headjoint onto my flute.  I played a little bit, and in a moment I have never forgotten, Marina tilted her head and raised her eyebrows as if to say, “Well, now listen to that.”  It was obvious to all that this was what I needed.  “Ok, so who is going to pay for it?” I wondered.  I went home sickened at the thought of having to buy a new headjoint – life would never be the same with that luscious sound in my ears.  A few months later, the same friend invited me to a Nagahara showcase.  I came away with that same 14k headjoint, and the title I thought I’d never own of “Headjoint Shopper!” 

The headjoint and I get along beautifully, and the flute has accepted it as an adopted member of our little family.  It truly is a perfect match.  Even still, I think a new flute is a great thing, but an old flute is like an old friend.  You just know what it will do, what it can do, and the beautiful things you can do together.  ~Anna Meyer, Philadelphia, PA

My Flute's Story

I play a 14 K Muramatsu flute, which was made in 1980.

It was left to me in my teacher's will.  My teacher was Murray Panitz, the legendary principal flutist of the Philadelphia Orchestra from 1961 to 1989.  His sudden and unexpected death shocked and saddened all of us who were privileged to know him and hear him play.  His sound still shimmers in my memory.

It was many weeks before I could take the flute out if its case.  I had it because Murray wasn't here anymore.  Playing it early on was too emotionally challenging.  Who was I to have this flute??

At first, I sounded horrible on it.  No center to the tone, actually not much tone, slow response, weak top register.  I was afraid I'd never be able to do it justice.  Each practice session with it felt bewildering. Things I had taken for granted just didn't work anymore. Was it because I was a silver player and the gold was a different technique?  Or was the headjoint cut wrong for me?  The flute was physically demanding as well; I had to build the strength to make it work.

One day, I decided to place the notes where the flute indicated it wanted them to be placed.  And at that moment, Murray's flute began to reveal its secrets to me.  It was almost like I had to earn its trust.  I became strong enough to really send some serious air through it.  My technique adapted to its demands.  I knew I had bonded with it when I could feel it vibrate in my hands.

Then it was time to play it in public. This took a great deal of courage, let me tell you.  I rarely told people of the flute's background: the responsibility of ownership felt heavy.  All the same emotions of simply taking it out of the case months earlier came rushing back.   "Can you ever live up to the legend of this flute?" was at the heart of my struggle.  It was time to perform with it when I realized
that I had risen to the challenge; that the flute was now mine.

I don't remember the first performance on Murray's flute.  I wish I had a journal entry to refer to, or some specific remembrance.  There was a time that I put a Williams 14 K headjoint on the flute, but a few years ago I reunited the original headjoint with it.  Even though it is more demanding, the result is well worth it.

This has flute changed and molded my playing for the better. I still find new colors.   It has been as fine a teacher as Murray was, and just as demanding.  And trust me, just like Murray, it won't let me get away with anything.

On Turning 60

On Wednesday, I will reach a mile stone: 60th birthday. Interestingly enough, it isn't nearly the emotional experience of turning 40 or even 50.

This time around I am approaching this aging-up (as it is called in USA age Group Swimming) with an attitude of gratitude.

Why?

I was born a white female in the USA to good parents who did the very best they could to raise 4 children, of which I am the oldest.

We received fine health care, learned how to take care of ourselves, and started life strong and healthy.

I am in the middle of the Baby Boom. For my entire life, my generation has been catered to, studied, advertised to: my concerns are those of the majority age group.

Feminism and I came of age at the same time.

I had a fine undergraduate and graduate education.  I was privileged to study for many years with the first flutist of the Philadelphia Orchestra, Murray Panitz, and after his death with the amazing Trudy Kane, formerly principal flute of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra.

I had a very successful career as a freelance musician, traveling all through the Mid-Atlantic region.   When that schedule became too much for me with graduate school and two babies,  I formed a flute  and harp duo. At its height, the duo won many national awards, toured, recorded, and played enough  weddings to fill a large volume of hilarious stories.

There were few goals I was unable to reach, although sometimes not always in the way I wanted to reach them.  At age 10, I wanted to be the only girl in the all-male flute section that mesmerized me in the Leonard Bernstein New York Philharmonic Young Peoples' concerts. At age 30, I was a frequent substitute in the all-male flute section of the Philadelphia Orchestra.  At 13, I wanted to swim in the Olympics. At age 47, I swam in the US Masters Nationals and finished in the top 8 of my 3 events. At an even earlier age, dreamt of having my own business, and at 57, started one. 

    

I have a wonderful husband of 38 years (guess my usual quip that I was 12 when we married won't work  here) whom I met at age 16, coached a swim team of 40 kids with for four summers, and married at  21.  

I have two adult children, both of whom bring me great joy and pride. They each have made their own path, in their own way.  We were able to educate them in fine schools, watch their accomplishments in swimming, academics, and are proud of their strength and character. 

I have had 4 Labrador Retrievers who have warmed my soul and my cold feet in the winter. 

Yes, indeed there have been challenges, heart break, traumas, and on more than one occasion I have had to learn strength I didn't know I had  while rising up from the ashes of brokenness and tragedy. 

But when all is said and done, it has been one hell of a ride (so far) and I wouldn't change any of it,   because what didn't kill me, made me stronger. 

OK.  So I did pray very hard at age 6 for blonde hair and blue eyes.  And at age 35 had a daughter, who had blonde hair and blue eyes. Still does.