Visiting the Peabody Conservatory

So yesterday Mark and I headed to Baltimore to visit the Peabody conservatory. Mark spent the entire three hours knitting. Wait, what (I know you are asking)? Yes, Mark has taken up knitting. Being the newblet that he is, he didn’t bring any scissors and when he needed to change colors of yarn, he had to get very creative to cut one strand. Too, again being a newblet, he couldn’t find the free end inside of the skein, and he was so frustrated that he took the wheel and had me look for it. Not an easy thing for me to do—drive AND look for the free end. After five minutes of that, and seeing my life pass in front of my eyes, going 74 mph in beltway traffic, I gave up and told him to deal with it! This picture shows his frustration after pulling out most of the innards of the skein of yarn.

What a different experience from Ohio State and Michigan! First, I missed a turnoff only 15 minutes out of the city (I know it was the Nuvi’s fault, and not mine!), so we had to backtrack through the city to get to the school, and what a part of the city it was! It reminded me of the bad side of DC, or when we go to Philly each week and must drive from the suburbs into downtown. The kids always think it’s funny when I lock the doors, but the Volvo doesn’t exactly blend in :-) Needless to say, I don’t think Mark got the best first impression. I wanted to come in from downtown with the aquarium, and the water and the skyscrapers, but instead we drove by “Papa’s Auto Parts” and “Brittany and Crystal’s Hair Salon”. There was even the stereotypical corner in front of a convenience store where a whole bunch of gansta-looking dudes were hanging out. Anyone one of them could have busted a cap on us!

So, we got into the parking garage, and being in the boot, I didn’t want to walk out of the parking garage to find the entrance to the school (and knowing what I know now, I’m glad I didn’t), so I found a door into the school from the garage. Strange thing? I needed a key card to enter which of course I didn’t have, but there was a button with a sign “CAMPUS POLICE” over it. I pushed the button, explained my situation, and got buzzed in.

Looking back on this (and writing about it), I probably should have realized that there was a reason to worry about safety already. However, it took me going on the tour to see that Mark will probably need to pack his 9-millimeter if he’s going to attend Peabody.

The school is set up in a rectangle (a lot like American), but on a much, much smaller scale. In

fact, all of the buildings are somehow connected to each other either through hallways or underground tunnels, making in essence a wall around a very, very small courtyard. I felt like a rat in a maze. Elevators and stairs were going everywhere, all connected by hallways. The crazy thing was that when we drove into the city, it was pouring rain. I didn’t see a window for probably an hour, and when I did, it was sunny outside. I passed by one beautiful set of glass double doors, but they were chained shut.

The school is actually really old (like it was built in 1857), and it has some really amazing places. Much to my chagrin, huge 2-, 3-, and 4-story

circularstaircases made of iron were found everywhere. The library (shown above) is the one that Beauty and the Beast was based on, and has actually been filmed in several movies—it almost didn’t feel real standing in it.

The acoustics in the halls are absolutely amazing—I mean really amazing. We heard a choir singing in one of the halls—Mark seriously didn’t want to leave because the sound and the singers were the best. The orchestra sounded full and rich. For being such a small school, there are a lot of performance venues.

Anyway, the tour was a joke. We had a voice major, and she acted like the stereotypical soprano. She didn’t have much info about the school itself, and she couldn’t answer any of our questions. When we went into the cafeteria, she just said, “there’s the food” and we walked out. No talking about meal plans, or hours of the cafeteria, nothing.

The craziest moment? We left the tour to get Mark to Denise Tryon’s studio on the fourth floor. We waited and waited for the one elevator that we knew could take us there. When it arrived, a big dude ran out of it, and Mark stepped in. He immediately stepped back out and said, “We can’t go in there. That dude just left the biggest fart in there.” Knowing that this would not be an issue for me (no smell, remember? J), I took pity and Mark and told him we would wait for it to come again. When it did, another guy was riding it and said to us when the doors opened, ‘You don’t want to come in here. It’s really bad.” Fine. What floor was the studio? Oh yeah, the fourth. Not only am I out of shape because I have lived a sedentary lifestyle for the past four months, but I had a boot on. I thought I was going to pass out by the time I got to her studio. I took off my cardigan, and my boot and just started fanning myself :-)

Denise is a really great teacher. She definitely has a “it’s my way, or the highway” mentality, but judging by her playing the playing of her students, it works. Mark got along great with her. Afterwards, Mark attended a master class of her students and her. He got to hear what they were playing and to see how a master class works. He liked hearing the discussion about the performances from both Denise and from the kids. When he first walked in, one girl asked him if he was from State College. Turns out, he played with her CPYO, but being typical Mark, he didn’t remember her at all (seriously, how many times do girls remember Mark, and he has no clue who they are????)

All the while, I’m sitting outside in the Opera Wing of the school. Denise had joked that sometimes during master class it feels like a battle between the horns and the opera singers. I mentioned that I would imagine the brass usually wins. Okay, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Those opera students are incredible! They too were having a master class (and they left the doors open), but I felt like I was in a live performance. Granted, I know nothing about the specifics of singing opera, and I’m no judge, but sitting out in the hall, I just sat back and listened. It was seriously so beautiful. Afterwards, Mark wanted to try and take a peek at them, but with the doors the way they were, we couldn’t see anything. The kids that did come out of that room though did not look like opera singers in their sweatpants and t-shirts. It was like being in some kind of BizarrO opera world!

In my opinion, Peabody would be better for Mark as a graduate student. The ratio there of graduates to undergraduates is 60/40, and the quality of music that I heard was definitely NOT coming from 19- and 20-year olds.

Johns Hopkins isn’t even nearby. There is a shuttle bus that runs between the two schools. Thinking about that, it would be a lot of commuting time for Mark. The best part about the school is that music program is obviously wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever such amazing playing coming out of just the practice rooms. However, there are definite cons to going there. The biggest is that for the first year, Denise lets her students play nothing but etudes—no solo music, no orchestral excerpts—just etudes. Too, freshman aren’t allowed in either of the orchestras—they MUST play in the band. Granted, Mark will probably end up in a band as a freshman at any other school, but at least he can audition for the orchestra. So, I told Mark to wait until we visit Northwestern so that he can compare Peabody to another, smaller school. Too, there’s no hurry to apply—the deadline is January 1.