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In addition to the Museums's trombones, I brought along a few of my own instruments to show the evolution of the trombone through the ages including a bass sackbut by Frank Tomes, my BB flat Conn contrabass trombone made in 1903, my Conn "Preacher Model" tenor trombone in Bflat/C made in 1923 and my newly acquired Sautermeister buccin which I'm shown talking about in the photo at left.

Later this week I will continue my ongoing exploration of historical brasses when I play serpent in a performance of the Divertimento in B flat (St Antoni Chorale) which is attributed to Haydn. This will be in performance with Boston's Handel & Haydn Society at Symphony Hall, Boston, in a small chamber music group of players with historical instruments. While I recorded this piece on my CD "Le Monde du Serpent" this will be the first time I will have played it on original instruments including natural horns. Our performance will open the Handel & Haydn concerts this weekend which will follow with two works by Brahms: his "Variations on a Theme of Haydn" (which is based on the "St Antoni Chorale" of the Divertimento and his "Ein Deutsches Requiem." To move from early trombones to serpent in chamber music with a week of Boston Symphony Youth Concerts inbetween (all of which include the main title theme from "Star Wars") is to be a part of a very rich musical life!

From 1979-1981, I was director of bands at St. Thomas Aquinas (now Bishop George Ahr) High School in Edison, New Jersey. My job at STA was my first full time music position. After graduation from Wheaton College (Illinois) my wife and I moved to New York City where I was a freelance bass trombonist and also worked various office jobs while pursuing my master's degree at New York University. I applied for the STA position in the summer of 1979 and I began the job that fall.

St. Thomas Aquinas High School was staffed by Felician Sisters, an order that had its origin in Poland. You can imagine my thoughts when I was told, during my first week on the job, that our High School band had been selected to play for Pope John Paul II when he was to visit New York City in October, 1979. We were chosen as one of two bands from New Jersey to play for the Pope and being a school with Polish connections, the school was nearly turned upside down with the news. On a personal level this was exciting, but it was made even more so because my wife was, at that time, pregnant and imminently ready to give birth to our first child. In the weeks preceding the Pope's visit, I arranged music for our performance (which would be in Battery Park at the southern tip of Manhattan in New York City; we played a number of Polish folk songs and hymns in addition to some other music) but also found myself in the midst of a "human interest" news story about the timing of the visit and how it related to my wife's pregnancy.

October 3, 1979 dawned cloudy and rain fell during our trip into New York. As we all waited for the Pope to arrive, we played and played - in the rain - wearing ponchos and getting absolutely soaked. Yet when the Pope arrived, the rain stopped as if we were witnessing something that could only come out of a Hollywood epic film, the sun came out, and he smiled and waved at the students in our band who were standing in awe only 50 feet from him. It was a great moment as we were part of history: Pope John Paul II, along with President Ronald Reagan, is credited with being a significant force in the defeat of communism in the USSR and eastern Europe. He was an author, teacher and leader whose legacy will be felt for years to come. More than anything he was a servant of Christ and he did not shy away from preaching the Gospel with clarity and authority. His connection with our family will always be a strong one for many reasons, not the least of which is because the day after our band played for him, my wife gave birth to our first daughter who became a bit of a celebrity as a result of the timing of her coming into the world. At St. Thomas Aquinas High School, she was always known as "The Pope's Baby" and her baby book is full of clippings and articles that celebrated the birth of a daughter to the band director and his wife who nervously got through the events of October 3 as Divine Providence delayed a birth until the work was done. (Newspaper headlines about the story read, "Pope, Paternity Arrive for Aquinas Band Director" and "Delayed Birth Linked to Divine Providence" and the biggest understatement of all, "What a Week for the Yeos". ) My time at St. Thomas Aquinas was very influential on my musical and spiritual life and I will always look back ton that time with fondness. Father Michael Alliegro, Sister Mary Seraphica, John Kronemeyer and, of course, the students, all have been a part of my life over the last 25+ years. The patch shown here was something I had made for all of the students who played at Battery Park that day in 1979 - 55 were made and I took mine out of a drawer today and I share it with you in tribute to a great and Godly man who has left a changed world behind him. Requiem aeterna dona eis.

Since I was a young boy I have always wanted a buccin, the early 19th century French form of trombone with a zoomorphic head. I remember in the mid 1960's going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City and standing (and staring) in front of a display case with three buccins that just held me transfixed. When I recorded my CD Le Monde du Serpent, Berlioz Historical Brass commissioned a new piece from Clifford Bevan, "Le Mots de Berlioz" for choir with buccin, ophicleide, serpent and bassoon. It was the first time I had ever actually HEARD a buccin (played beautifully by Ben Peck who used a modern reproduction made by John Webb). I knew right then I simply had to get one to play myself.

Last summer I acquired a buccin bell from a dealer in Paris with the goal of having it restored and be played. The bell is by Sautermeister, a maker in Lyon (France) who was active from 1809-1830. Original buccin slides are usually in dreadful condition so I decided to have a new slide made after an historical model. The bell restoration was carried out by Jim Becker of Osmun Music (www.osmun.com) in Arlington, Massachusetts. The photo at right shows Jim Becker and me in the Osmun Music shop with the restored buccin. The bell needed considerable work to be put into good condition and Jim used a combination of his vast experience and some creative solutions to return the bell to playing order. He then made an entirely new hand slide after the buccin slide on an instrument (by Tabard) in Boston's Museum of Fine Arts. Jim put a tuning slide at the end of the slide so the instrument can be played at low pitch and Naoki Tada of the Yamaha Custom Shop (Hamamatsu, Japan) made a spectacular slide crook with two intertwined serpents. Today everything came together and the instrument was completed - I picked it up and have already had a great deal of pleasure playing it. It has a funky overtone series because of the oddly shaped bell (which is made of very thin brass), but the sound is mellow and sweet when played at soft dynamics and strong and firm (without being edgy) when played loudly.

The photo above (left) shows me playing my buccin while standing in front of a display case at Symphony Hall in Boston that includes several instruments from the Casadeasus Collection, a collection of early instruments owned by the Boston Symphony. Shown on the left is a form of upright serpent called a "basson Russe" that also has a zoomorphic head.

Once again, I offer encouragement to those who are interested in playing older instruments. Doing so gives an interesting perspective on our modern instruments and transports us back to an earlier time when the evolution of musical instruments was still very much active. Breathing new life into an instrument that has been silent for perhaps over 150 years is a rare feeling.

For instance, trombonists are well acquainted with the opening introduction of "Romeo," an extended recitative for the low brass. What most trombonists don't know (or don't consider) is that Berlioz includes the horns in that passage, but, because the horns are natural and not fully chromatic, the composer assigns one note of the passage to each horn in its corresponding key. The effect for the horns is a bit of musical "ping-pong" not unlike a handbell choir where each player is responsible for only a few notes of the melody. With this in mind, the balance was adjusted so the trombones and ophicleide did not dominate, rather the horns became an integral part of the texture. It is things like this that make music with these early instruments so interesting. While there certainly is dogmatism in the early music movement (a classic example of the oppressed becoming the oppressors), I have found working with early music players to be very stimulating - players bring in and talk about different instruments, makers, the ubiquitous issue of the tuning pitch, horn construction, performance practice and, above all, the music. It is refreshing and enjoyable to a high degree. My life in early music continues to grow and expand, from serpent to ophileide to buccin (the type of trombone developed in France in the late 18th century with a zoomorphic head). This weekend's performance of "Romeo" was yet another step along the way as I put myself back in time to consider the role of instruments, musicians and music upon a time long past. There are more adventures on the way, including a presentation at Boston's Museum of Fine Arts in April where I will discuss and demonstrate various types of trombones, and, also in April, a performance on serpent with Boston's Handel & Haydn Orchestra. June will bring me to the Great American Brass Band Festival where I will give a paper on serpent an dophicleide soloists and then perform a solo on ophicleide accompanied by a brass band. For those interested in these and other performances I have upcoming, visit my schedule page.