A budding music therapist returns to her performance roots.

By Erin Patterson '05
July 30, 2003

	The writer (left) poses with String Chair Matt Glaser (center) and bassist Charlie Haden.

But by the time I got to Berklee, I realized that my heart was in helping people, and I decided to major in Music Therapy. I dismissed my childhood dreams of being a great performer, and while I kept up with my cello studies, my focus was fixed on classes like Music in Special Education. You can imagine my surprise when String Department Chair Matt Glaser invited me to perform at Carnegie Hall with a select group of string scholarship students. The student ensemble had been requested by bassist Charlie Haden, who wanted accompaniment for his group—saxophonist Michael Brecker, pianist Kenny Barron, drummer Rodney Green, and Haden himself. I had turned away from performing, but now I was going to take the stage with some of the best jazz musicians in the business.

I had some logistics to work out, since I had already committed to summer plans back in Virginia. I was going to work with my father's landscaping company and take classes. But when an opportunity like this comes along, you find a way to make it happen. After several e-mails, a few phone calls, and a very expensive plane ticket, I was on my way to rehearse for the pinnacle of my musical career.

For two weeks, the 33-piece Berklee String Chamber Orchestra rehearsed for two hours a day, three days a week, under the direction of the maestro himself, Matt Glaser. Although the music—a set of tunes entitled American Dreams—proved to be well within the grasp of the orchestra, Matt worked especially hard to mold us in to Carnegie material. He had us work on every cue, moving line, and dynamic change until the notes were ours. I have great memories from rehearsals. Highlights include "Matt aerobics," our conductor's very demonstrative way of shaping our dynamics. Picture a crowd doing the wave, and then take away everyone but Matt, and you get an idea of how he got us to play louder or softer. Rehearsals were tough, but they were also fun, as you can see from the following exchange between Matt and Berklee alum Nicky Sanders.

Matt: "Can anyone tell me what lento means?"
Nicky: (jokingly) "I think it's a kind of soup."

Despite the intense rehearsal schedule, the group showed little signs of fatigue throughout the process. Many of the players, myself included, were so used to playing long hours for our various classes and gigs that a two-hour rehearsal was almost a walk in the park.

At 8:30 a.m. on Wednesday, June 25, I was standing outside of the Berklee building at 1140 Boylston Street, waiting anxiously to head to New York. We were on the road by nine o'clock. Thanks to horrendous traffic, the four-hour drive took closer to five-and-a-half, and we missed the entire rehearsal at Carroll Studios.  But there was still time to practice the music with Charlie Haden's group at sound check. With backstage passes in hand, we made our way inside Carnegie Hall and up to the green room. We unpacked our instruments, grabbed our music, and headed to the stage for the two-hour rehearsal. The halls to the green room, as well as the walls inside, were lined with pictures of past performers. One in particular caught my eye: Billie Holiday. She was one of the reasons I wanted to play jazz, and here I was playing on the same stage that, once upon a time, the lady herself had graced. I think that's when I really started to feel the energy of the venue. Legends had played here, and I was about to play here, too.   

There weren't choirs of angels, walls painted in gold, or even the sounds of an audience as we stepped on stage for sound check. It was the quiet and stillness in the huge hall that surprised me. It wasn't what I had anticipated. Charlie Haden and Matt Glaser traded jokes as we rehearsed each piece, one of which was "No Lonely Nights," a Keith Jarrett composition. "No lonely nights are what you'll have now that you've played Carnegie Hall," Matt said at one point.  During rehearsal, my stand partner, Lindsey MacIndoe, and I made the mistake of asking one of the tech crew about microphone placement for the music stands. The guy's face expressed total shock as he explained to us that microphones are "superfluous" in Carnegie Hall. Lindsay and I apologized profusely, but we had to grin. No, we weren't Carnegie veterans, just a couple of starry-eyed Berklee students making our debuts.

By the end of the sound check, we were ready. The orchestra members headed out to eat and relax for a couple of hours before the show. Most of us stuck to the various pizza places and sandwich shops around Carnegie, before heading back to get ready. The stage manager at long last gave us our call to the stage.

The hall was packed; sold out, I discovered later. I headed out with the rest of the cello section with a huge grin on my face, a smile that lasted the whole evening. We all took our seats and the performance began. It was wonderful. Every piece—from "American Dreams" to "Nightfall," "Bittersweet" to "America the Beautiful"—was the best we had ever played it. Charlie Haden's deep bass gently rumbled in our ears. Michael Brecker's sweet sax sounded clear above the strings. Kenny Barron's piano playing moved beautifully in and out of accompaniment and solo sections. Rodney Green provided not just the rhythmic backbone to it all, but splashes of sound to the mix. And under the soloists, the Berklee String Chamber Orchestra carried it all. At the end of the performance, we received a standing ovation. I have to say the whole thing brought tears to my eyes. All those years of practice paid off. We played Carnegie Hall and it was this jazz cellist's dream come true.

Links of Interest
•	Practice, Practice, Practice: Berklee Strings Go to Carnegie Hall
•	String Department
•	Matt Glaser and Ken Burns's Jazz
•	Events at Berklee