The Move to Europe

In Summer of 1982, the Fulbright Commission sent me a round-trip ticket on Lufthansa to Frankfurt Airport along with instructions that I was to make my way to the town of Bad-Godesberg, which is outside of Bonn, that time the capitol of Germany. There I was to attend a two-day meeting with other Fulbright students and sit in on numerous lectures on politics, art and insider tips for students studying in Germany. Following these two days, the other students travelled to various german language schools around Germany, mostly Goethe Institutes. My language schooling however was to be delayed by a month. Hermann Baumann had invited me to attend his week of masterclasses at the Conservatory in Bern, Switzerland. These classed, open to the public, were to take place a month before my first day at the Goethe Institut in Grafing, outside of Munich. I had to somehow purchase a ticket and make my way down to this beautiful Swiss city. The money from the Fulbright grant was not to be alocated to me until I began my Goethe Institute courses, so I really had to survive by my own very low cash flow and good wits. So I went to a travel agency for youth in Europs, situated near the main railway station in Bonn and purchased a super low fare ticket first to Bern and then, one month later, to Munich.

The masterclasses at the Bern Conservatory were inspiring, to say the least. There were about twelve participants, all of whom were accomplished players. And they were from all over the world. I took lodgings at the student dormatory which was somewhat outside of the city.But I spent most of my time, of course, at the school, practicing, listening to others in their lessons, having my own lessons and attending a concert of Mr. Baumann and the Camarata Bern in a performance of the Othmar Schoeck Concerto. During the course of the week, Mr. Baumann approached me to offer me a gig once I got to Stuttgart, where I was to study with him at the College of Music and Performing Arts. It was my first encounter with the word "Mucke", which is German for "gig". It was a good sign. It meant that there was work here to be had and that I was with the right people to obtain it. But first, I had to travel over to Munich for my intensive language course at the Goethe Institute. This course lasted three weeks and each day we had class from about 8 am till 4 pm. I met many people there from all over the world. My roommate was an Egyptian boy who was learning the hotel business. I also hung out with a couple of Portugese girls and an Italian from Bologna who were all training to be professional translators. The courses here took place in late September, and given our advantageous location so close to Munich, we of course attended the famous October Fest there.

At the close of the Goethe Institute German course, I made my way to Stuttgart, which was to be my new home for the coming year. I quite liked the city and enjoyed exploring it when I had the free time to do so. But I was above all, a goal-oriented, ambitious and single-minded young man who had come to Germany to study horn with Hermann Baumann and to become as great a horn player as I could. I quickly made friends with Mr. Andrew Hale, who was more or less the king of the horn class there at the Hochschule in Stuttgart. Andrew was a "military brat" from the old days when there were hundreds of thousands of American soldiers stationed in Germany. He had been raised in the Stuttgart area and spoke the language perfectly.

The aforementioned "mucke" was a good opportunity to meet two other horn students enrolled in Stuttgart, Regina Weitbrecht (now Kleefoot) and Peter von Deckend. Regina was especially kind to me in those early days and offered to let me stay in her apartment until I found a place of my own. The Fulbright scholarship paid enough, in monthly installments, to cover my food and rent. However there wasn't much left at the end of the month. But with Regina‘s help, I managed to find a cute little (!) basement studio which was only a few hundred meters from the brass building of the College of Music. I didn‘t have many possessions. What college student, especially in a foreign country, does? But I settled in nicely in my new home. My object was to not only practice obsessively for one full year, but also to learn, under Mr. Baumann‘s tutelage, as much of the solo repertoire as humanly possible. That year, 1983, Hermann Baumann was arguably the world‘s most successful and sought after horn soloist. So he wasn‘t in Stuttgart an awful lot. But when he was there, we each got intense lessons which would sometimes last 3 hours! He also requested that the other students audit the other lessons as well so that you received as much exposure to him as possible. Andrew Hale and I were incessantly auditing these lessons. Before Baumann would depart on his next concert engagement, he would assign me a plethora of concerts to learn. I never said no or even showed the slightest hesitation when he would assign me, for example, the Gliere, Weissmann, Gordon Jacob, Haydn 2nd and Förster Concertos, telling me to have these works prepared for next time (about 3 weeks usually). On the contrary, I was delighted and wanted even more! For the record, the list of repertoire I studied (and have never forgotten) during my year with Baumann at the Stuttgart Coillege of Music is as follows:

Bach Brandenburg 1st Concerto
F. J. Haydn 2nd Concerto
Christoph Förster Concerto in Eb
Franz Danzi Concerto in E
Antonio Rosetti G-minor Concerto
Atterberg Concerto
Gordon Jacob Concerto
Erik Larson Concerto
Jiri Pauer Concerto
Paul Hindemith Concerto
Britten Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings
Saint-Saens Morceaus de Concert
Various recital pieces from Cherubini to Schumann Adagio and Allegro.

Works that I had already either learned or performed prior to Stuttgart but studied again:

W. A. Mozart Concertos 1-4
Richard Strauss Concertos 1 and 2
C. M. v. Weber Concertino
Othmar Schoeck Concerto
F. J. Haydn Concerto Nr. 1
Michael Haydn Concerto
Schumann Konzertstück for 4 Horns

Andrew was the perfect study mate for me. He seemed so full of energy and spoke almost non-stop about all things "horn". We talked about the personnel of each of the horn sections in Germany, collected records of obscure concertos and monumental performances, practiced wagnertuben and natural horns, compared editions of various concertos and strove to increase our range at a fanatical rate. It was during this year that I achieved the 5-hour practice day. One incident that comes to mind, Mr. Baumann was going to play a concert at the palace in Ludwigsburg. The concert was to promote a recent recording he had just completed for Phillips Records- Mozart Sinfonia Concertante with Heinz Holliger, among others. It was also one of the very first performances of the Trio for Horn, Violin and Piano by Ligetti. Anyway, we were having trouble getting in (admission was too high) and we went around to the back where we heard the artists warming up through a window. We managed to get Baumann`s attention and he leaned out of the window and pulled us both up through it.

Another humorous incident occurred at the “brass building”. The brass students shared a house with the drama students. It was here that we had our lessons and ensemble playing as well as marathon practice sessions. But we were officially supposed to stop and leave the building by 10 PM. There was a family which resided in the apartment on the top floor and they did not wish to be disturbed after 10. But you know, you can`t hold ambitious horn students down. We frequently stayed later than that and one night, the man from up stairs came down in a fury and told us to leave immediately. We did, but we were back the following night (we must have had exams coming up, or something). This time he said he was going to take our names if we did it again and that we was going to turn us in to the school authorities. The next night we were prepared. Sure enough the poor fellow came downstairs around 10:15 and after yelling a bit at us, he asked for our names. I said “Dale Clevenger” (American accent being obvious), and Andrew said “Barry Tuckwell” . Oblivious of who these gentlemen were, the man wrote these names down and took them to the office the next day. Upon Professor Baumann`s arrival the following week, he was in for a surprise. He showed up at our lessons, sat us down, smiled and said that he had received a report which stated that during his absence, hornists Dale Clevenger and Barry Tuckwell had been practicing in the brass building past the permitted hours.

Toward the end of my Fulbright year, Professor Baumann began to suggest that I start taking auditions for orchestras in Europe. I had not really planned on staying in Germany. I wanted to return to New York. But conversations with Andrew and our other friends and Baumann`s insistence persuaded me to begin submitting my application to various orchestras. I was invited to several and subsequently auditioned for the Principal Horn position in the Southwest German Radio Orchestra in Baden-Baden as well as the Principal Horn position of the Gürzenich Orchestra (Cologne Opera). I was a finalist for the latter. I also received an offer to hold the Principal Horn of the Nüremberg Philharmonic, which for some odd reason I declined.

A Short Trip Back to New York

I had already proposed to my sweetheart at that time, Karen Sherwood. I proposed to her upon my return from the AIMS Festival in Graz. Karen and I had met at a Christian Students Meeting at Manhattan School of Music. This was organized by a vocal major at the school who simply stuck a small, hand written ad on the bulletin board at school looking for "any other Christians besides herself" at MSM. Well, as I have said, my Christian faith had played a very important role in my move to New York. My daily Bible readings and prayer time were a constant source of comfort and happiness to me. I felt truly plugged into a higher being. It was Paul Coelho who wrote, "when you are young, the forces of the universe conspire to help you fulfill your destiny." And this was certainly how I felt about my own destiny back then. Seeing the ad on the bulletin board about the formation or a student Christian organization seemed like exactly the sort of thing I should be doing. So I went to the first meeting. The girl who had organized the event was present, and so was Karen Sherwood. Karen was studying violin with the great and charming violinist Mrs. Carroll Glenn. Karen and I hit it off straight away and we hung out for quite a while after that initial meeting. Actually, we hung out longer after the second meeting, to which more students came. Karen lived on 102nd Street and West End Avenue. I lived in Carnegie Hall down on 57th Street. But by Christmas, I was forced to vacate the studio at that grand old residence and move uptown. And through the girl who had organized the Christian student meeting, I found, along with my brother Kyle, a room at the Student Christian Center which was owned and operated by the Broadway Presbyterian Church.

While I was at the College of Music in Stuttgart, Karen decided to continue her studies and MSM for the Fall semester and then we would work out something for the Winter-Spring semester. She moved over to Stuttgart to join me in my extremely tiny studio near the Brass-Actors Building of the Stuttgart College of Music and Performing Arts. But her parents never really approved of this action and desperately desired her to return to New York and finish her degree. We had already set the wedding date and she and her mother were quite busy setting up the details. Keep in mind, this was pre-internet days and also at a time when over-seas phone calls cost a fortune! But they managed most of it the old-fashioned way- those red, white and blue air mail fold-over letters that took over a week to be delivered. Due to Karens parents insistence that she return to school, I also decided to go back to New York and try to freelance. I was really starting from scratch in the freelance world. I had made a few small connections during my 2 years at MSM, but certainly not enough to get me on my feet and make enough money to support my wife. From the start it became evident that living quarters were going to be a problem. My brother Kyle and our best friend, Daniel Vimont, who was a bassoon major at the Mannes College of Music, were also looking for a place to stay. So it was decided that the four of us would find something together. We were all willing to share a tiny space somewhere in Manhattan. And we found a place. There was a small, 2-room apartment on 49th Street, between 6th and 7th Avenue that was available, and the landlord agreed to let four of us live there. Kyle and Daniel took the living room and kitchen area while Karen and I got the only private bedroom. The four of us shared the only bathroom. Now I needed a way to pay the rent. So I started to apply for jobs around the city. Kyle was already a member of the Saturday Brass Quintet which toured the U.S. for many years. The horn player in that group, Larry Dibello, had been working as a cashier at B. Dalton Books on Maiden Lane, right across the street from the World Trade Centers. They only required you to go in 4 hours a day, 5 days a week. So I took the job. Most of the employees were either freelance musicians, artists or writers and there was a very pleasant and congenial atmosphere at that store. I auditioned for the National Symphony of New York, a sort of paid youth orchestra for graduates of Julliard and Manhattan Schools. I had hoped this would get my foot in the door at Lincoln Center and open up some freelance connections. Now I have to ask the reader to trust my integrity about this. Anyone who knows me and knew me back then would agree that I have a fairly high standard. And I usually always give an honest, if not over critical assessment of my playing. Yet at this audition, I played at the top of my game. And when asked at the end of the audition to play a passage from memory from Mahler's Fourth Symphony, and after having flawlessly executed it, I really thought that I had passed the audition and would be a member of that horn section. But to my surprise, I was named 2nd alternate and put on the sub list. Consequently, when I performed with the orchestra, which occurred more than a few times, I was truly shocked at the low level of some of the horn players, Mind you, a couple of them were excellent! But I think that there was never a better example of politics, connections and rigged auditions than that year for the National Symphony Orchestra of New York's horn section. And I should have learned my lesson!

I became witness to blatant similar behavior in the music business, seemingly everywhere I turned. I was repulsed by it. I firmly believed that only those truly deserving of advancement and success should make it in music, especially at the upper levels. I was told by many horn players and other freelance musicians that I should call up the "top dogs" and take lessons from them. It was the best way for them to hear your playing and pass your name on to contractors. But for some reason, I was terribly thick skulled about this. I simply refused to play that game. And I didn't really start to recognize the significant role that connections play in the classical music business until it was much too late. I still do not condone it. Promotion, success and employment should go to the best player. One can take experience into the decision as well. But to hire somebody simply because he or she is your friend or studied with your teacher or performed sexual favors or is likely to repay you with a similar advancement is unethical and repulses me to no end. What's more, it is suicide to the musical organization. There have been countless examples of an orchestra or a chamber group declining in quality due to such hiring methods. It is the epitome of unfairness and I have never condoned it.

That year was an adventurous year. It was also incredibly tough. The four of us just barely eked out a living. I did play a few gigs, many of them in Carnegie Hall in fact. But the letter that "rescued" me from this bleak beginning was from the Gürzenich Orchestra of Cologne or the Cologne Opera. I had auditioned for principal horn of this very fine German orchestra just before returning to the States. I was in the last round with a man named David Bryant. In the end they hired David. He did after all have a few years more experience than I did. He had been playing in Florence the two years prior. A few months after this audition, and while I was settling in to a long New York winter, another principal horn position in the Gürzenich Orchestra opened up. Evidently I had made a good enough impression on the horn section that they offered me the job straight out. And of course, I accepted it. With one letter I went from earning 6000 Dollars a year to the promise of almost 40,000 Dollars a year!

But this job was not officially open until the following season starting in September. So I still had to survive somehow. Karen and I continued to attend the famous Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church where I was a member. That was the year New York State began to charge 5 cents more for bottles and cans and you could return these for your nickel when you were done. Needless to say, hundreds of starving musicians and artists like ourselves began to comb the streets of New York collecting cans and bottles and attempting to cash them in. I say "attempting" because there were many store keepers who would not cooperate with this rule. Many of them were Greek grocers. When we pointed out to them that it was the law that they return to us 5 cents for every can and bottle we brought in, they just yelled back at us,, "This is Greek law!"

I remember performing the famous horn aria from Händel's Judas Maccabeus. It was a small production down on the Lower East Side in the "alphabet streets". This was a notoriously dangerous neighborhood and I can vividly recall making my way through dark, dank dirty streets to a back sage theater door and entering the orchestra pit. I also performed 1st Wagner Tuba on an all-Wagner concert with the National Orchestra in Carnegie Hall. That was also the year Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life" first came out. This film was a huge success in Manhattan. The audience roared like I have never heard a cinema going audience laugh before. That year was also the year of "Yentl" which played at the Ziegfeld Cinema, as well as "The Bounty" with Anthony Hopkins and Mel Gibson. It was a superb year for movies.

Two years earlier, back when I resided in Carnegie Hall, I had sometimes played my horn on the street to try to make a little cash. It usually didn't amount to much. I used to also practice up on the 11th floor of my building with the window open. And more than likely I had practiced the melancholy horn solo from the second movement of Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony. The Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church is on 55th Street and 5th Avenue. Carnegie Hall is on 7th Avenue and 57th Street- not really very far away from each other. So one Sunday morning, the Rev. Brant Kirkland, the head minister at the church, used an interesting analogy. He told of a lone horn player, sadly singing the strains of Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony. I think he was trying to make the point that despite Tchaikovsky's tragic life, the notes of his beautiful melody cascade through the streets of Manhattan 100 years later. I thoroughly believe Dr. Kirkland had heard me playing, and I told him so. But he seemed, for some reason, rather doubtful. I suppose it seemed to him to be just too coincidental.

That year, I was also a member of the Kammer Woodwind Quintet. The members were Carol Brown (flute), Jonathan Towne (clarinet), Susan Johnson (oboe), Becky Noreen (bassoon) and myself. These fine young musicians kept me focused during this year in New York. I earned a little bit if money with them, and I kept in touch with the freelance world. But more importantly, I had my Carnegie Hall Chamber Music debut with the Kammer Quintet. I had actually begun performing with the group while still a student at the Manhattan School. We had entered the Artists International Competition and had one a prize. And part of the prize was a debut recital in the chamber music hall at Carnegie Hall. This was a very big deal for me. We also played live on WQXR Radio and had an interview as well. During the preparation week for this concert, my parents and my grandmother flew up to attend the important event. My mother had bought me a Pierre Cardin shirt that I was going to wear with my suit at the concert. The shirt unfortunately did not fit too well (it had been a lean year and I had lost a bit of weight). We declared that we ought to exchange it for a better fit, and where better to do it that in New York! I got out the Yellow Pages and we found an address that looked good. It was on 5th Avenue, and it wasn't too far away from us on 49th Street. So we made our way over there, entered a huge skyscraper, found the address in the elevator, and shot up about 30 floors. The elevator doors opened and there we stood, face to face with Pierre Cardin's personal secretary. We were in the private offices of Pierre Cardin. Undeterred, we strode up to the secretary, and in our finest Texas accents declared that we wished to exchange this shirt because it doesn't fit like it should. The dear lady recovered from her shock, and informed us that this was not especially the right place for such a transaction and could we please take the shirt to one of their many retail stores in Manhattan?

Back to "The Old Country"

1983-1984 passed, and at the end of June, we all moved out of New York. Karen got a Summer job working at a clothing store in Red River, New Mexico, where my parents had been building a beautiful a-frame house. I was preparing for my year as principal horn of the Cologne Opera. Unfortunately the timing for Karen was not ideal. She really only lacked one more semester at MSM before she would have her diploma. So it was decided that I would live alone in Cologne that first year while she finished. And graduate she did. She was then promptly invited to join the violin section of the New York City Opera National Company (the touring group) and of course she didn't turn that kind of an offer down. So I spent much of my year in Cologne alone. I lived with a horn colleague, Herr Hans Günther Zschäbitz, who had apparently had the idea to ask me to come to Cologne and assume the job of principal horn. I lived upstairs in a small apartment in their house. Hans Günther and I commuted too work quite often together. I believe he sort of wanted to adopt me as a son. But I really didn't want to be "fathered" and I rejected his patronizing way with me. I also had some trouble fitting in with the horn section there. They were a jovial enough group of guys. They seemed to know every opera ever written. I on the other hand knew practically none at all. I was literally sight reading performances all the time! I sight read what were for them old repertoire, polished performances of Lohengrin, Madame Butterfly, Tosca, Carmen, Salome and many others. Then came a new production. It was Janacek's "Katje Kabanova" and Gerd Albrecht was the conductor. I was granted the privilege of attending several rehearsals for this production. And I practiced the part quite industriously. I thought I was doing pretty well in the rehearsals. And then I developed an eye infection. I believe it was conjunctivitis. I couldn't see anything and the lamps on our stands in the orchestra pit made it even worse. Now like a fool, I still wanted to do the rehearsals and premier of the opera. I should have stayed home and recovered because I wasn't playing so well with the sight problem. And as conductors will do from time to time, Gerd Albrecht had one of his famous panic attacks and anger fits. He had discovered that many of the players at the dress rehearsal had not been scheduled to do the premier performance and he simply went berserk. He got very angry at each section and publicly declared that he did not wish the following people to be part of the production at all. And one of these musicians was "yours truly". This decision turned out to be devastating for my trial year. The orchestra colleagues had a great deal of respect for Herr Albrecht and they took this authoritarian action to heart. The vote for my trial year (tenure) was to be within one week of that day. And so for the next several weeks, although I never actually received official word about the decision, the colleagues of the orchestra began to look long-faced at me and avoid conversation. And then it happened, I opened the "Das Orchester" magazine, which is the official publication where one can find job openings in German orchestras (and other European countries), and imagine my shock to see my job advertised, clear as a bell! I supposed this could mean only one thing. I had not passed my trial year.