ON THE JOB TRAINING

Reporter takes over the podium at Cleveland Pops Orchestra Christmas concert

Monday, December 03, 2007

Chuck Yarborough

Plain Dealer Reporter

Here's a musical term for you: Accelerando. It means, as you might expect, accelerating, getting faster.  It's also the "Jeopardy!" answer to "What was Chuck's heart doing as Cleveland Pops Orchestra conductor Carl Topilow introduced him to a packed Palace Theatre crowd as guest conductor last Sunday?"

Topilow had offered me the chance to lead "Sleigh Ride" during the orchestra's annual holiday concert, this year called "We Need a Little Christmas." I figured, why not? It's only 2 minutes and 49 seconds out of my life, and it was something I'd always wanted to do.  Besides, I've been counting to four since my first drum lesson at Davy Crockett Elementary in 1968. Moreover, "Sleigh Ride" is in "cut time," which meant I only had to count to two. Shoot, I'd have fingers left over! How hard could it be? I decided to attack the opportunity con bravura.

Note to self: Remember Sunday, Nov. 25, 2007, the next time you hear yourself utter the phrase, "How hard could it be?"

"Sleigh Ride" is a Christmas classic. It's one of those tunes you may not recall by name, but the second the violins and chimes launch into it, you'll know it. And while everyone from your middle school concert band and beyond has done it, it's best left to the professionals, like Topilow and his Cleveland Pops Orchestra.

Nobody knows the treble I've seen. Nobody knows but Jesus. And, of course, all of you who made the show. But getting there for me wasn't just stopping off at the local Tuxedo Junction for that snazzy suit with the seasonally appropriate emerald vest and festive red silk handkerchief in the breast pocket. Before I could stand onstage in front of the talented (and, thankfully, forgiving) orchestra, I had to spend a couple of hours observing Topilow as he taught a conductors class at the Cleveland Institute of Music.

Three conductors took the podium in Kulas Hall that day, all graduate students with a ton of experience. The pieces they conducted were as much chestnuts in the classical music world as Mel Torme's "The Christmas Song" is in the holiday realm.  Later, Topilow confided that he usually lets student conductors go a little, just to get the feel of leading an orchestra.  Kind of like the executioner dropping the guillotine halfway so Marie Antoinette would know what was coming.

Just as the young conductors were getting all posato (settled), Topilow would stand and clap his hands once or twice softly. The result: instant cesura (sudden stop).  "How do you expect them to do something unless you tell them?" Topilow would ask, his voice never rising above pianissimo, but making his point with forte force.  I never heard the slightest hiccup in the music, so I think my notes from that day say it all: "What a stern taskmaster."  Two things are clear from that snippet: I may be the only idiot in the world who uses the word "taskmaster" in real life, and I thought I had bitten off more than I could chew.

I may be right about the former, but I was dead wrong about the latter. Topilow loves music too much to disrespect it by being easy on his students. He wanted me to see that class to make me realize that love, and to ensure that I shared it.

Oh, and he has a droll sense of humor. Who else would have clarinets in more colors than jelly beans? His humor and his reverence for music come through in his conducting and clarinet-playing. Topilow reads notes the way some people read Hemingway; he sees stories in them beyond the simplicity of Every Good Boy Does Fine.  I waved my borrowed baton, hoping I might at least be able to read the foreword under Topilow's tutelage. I trembled slightly onstage, embarrassed but warmed by the audience applause and the smiles I saw in the orchestra.

Did the reading lesson take? I don't know. One percussionist was kind enough to tell me I was among the rare guest conductors who actually showed the orchestra a downbeat.

Of course, that was after our preconcert rehearsal, and before I missed every "slap" cue in the song during the real thing. In my defense, those slaps came on the upbeat. I think.

But at least now my heart can begin that ritardando and slow to normal.

Unless, of course, Topilow and company want me to return next year.  That would be D.S. al fine with me.

To reach this Plain Dealer reporter:

cyarborough@plaind.com, 216-999-4534