I am deeply saddened to learn of the passing of Larry Rachleff.
I only had the privilege of working him once but that experience had a profound impact on me as a musician and a human and I'd like to share the story.
30 years ago today marked the first day of the final rehearsal cycle for the Boston University Tanglewood Institute's Young Artists Orchestra and it was our first day under the baton of Larry Rachleff.
This was my third summer at Tanglewood but my first in the orchestra (the first two being a part of the Empire Brass Seminar.) The first six weeks had gone really well with rep that included Bruckner 4 and some other heavy hitters. I was full of confidence.
On the final concert was Petrushka and let's just say the rehearsals did not go very well for me. I'm specifically talking about the bear solo. The first crack at it in rehearsal did not go well and it went downhill from there.
This was uncharted territory for me as a tuba player. I had not really faced any adversity in public as a musician and I expected things to go well when there was a tuba in my lap. But the harder I wanted this solo to go well, the worse I did. It was fine in the practice room and then in rehearsal it kept getting worse.
The second to last rehearsal went so poorly that I ate lunch alone afterwards and didn't talk to anyone for like an hour. I was visibly upset and was very much not teachable in that moment. Larry didn't even say a word to me about it. He just kept going.
The dress rehearsal went a little better but still really badly and Larry waited a few bars before stopping for some other reason (I'm sure intentionally to give me and my 17-year-old fear-based ego a wide berth) and then in an almost understated way simply said "Tuba, it's going to be great tomorrow" and then immediately started working on fine-tuning the clarinets.
I sat there in disbelief and thought to myself "What the $@#% have I shown this guy for him to think it's going to be great??!"
Fast forward to the concert with Sam and Chester Schmitz and all of the Empire Brass Seminar tuba students there and you can already see where this is going.
I absolutely *nailed* it. Best I had ever played it - even in the practice room.
The second the solo ended, as my heart was racing at close to 200 bpm, Larry gave me the most subtle nod from the podium that was accompanied with a loving look like "I told you, kid." I will never forget that look.
I give him *100%* of the credit for my success that day. In spite of two weeks worth of evidence to the contrary, I suddenly believed in myself the moment before that solo hit. And it was all because his belief in me, a 17-year-old kid he had just met, was unwavering. He was a magician.
I didn't think about it this way at the time, but after analyzing it, the entire two weeks were a music education master class in my direction:
What to say and what not to say. When to say it and when not to say it. The words. The tone. The empathy. Inspiring the musicians around you to believe in themselves. Giving all of the credit afterwards, even when you played a huge role in what transpired.
He taught me a lesson 30 years ago that you can't buy. That even when you face extreme adversity (which is not a question of if, but when) that if you believe in yourself, you can accomplish anything. And he also taught me that it is possible to help inspire that feeling in others as a music educator.
Larry, you were a gem and you changed my life and affected my career as a musician profoundly.
Thank you. 🙏