As an exercise in interdisciplinary collaboration during the next academic year, the arts community at my home institution (Lehigh University) will produce a festival entitled “Words/Music/Images: A Celebration of Convergence.” I like the phrase “Celebration of Convergence”—it describes my most recent Suzuki experience as well as one of my strongly held feelings about my soon-to-end experience serving on the SAA Board of Directors.

My recent Suzuki “Celebration of Convergence” experience was a result of my taking a trip to Ann Arbor, Michigan with my son Miles, a high school junior looking at colleges and universities where he can continue his studies as a percussionist. Visiting the University of Michigan School of Music was also an excuse for me to have dinner with my long-time performance partner, soprano Carmen Pelton, my favorite living American composer, Bill Bolcom, and his wife, recital partner, and inimitable chanteuse, Joan Morris. As we were driving towards Ann Arbor, Miles was listening to Sibelius, Symphony #2 because he was preparing to play the timpani part with the Juilliard Pre-College Symphony. Our first appointment once we arrived in Ann Arbor was to attend a student orchestra rehearsal where one of Miles’ Kinhaven friends was playing principal oboe. Well, it turns out the orchestra was rehearsing Sibelius, Symphony #2. Nice convergence. This was a rather special rehearsal because it was actually a workshop led by the peripatetic and ecumenical trio Time for Three. Many of you will recognize that group from their sensational rendition of Czardas on SAA’s Annual Fund CD called A Celebration of Excellence. Nice convergence. Up on the podium, exhorting the orchestra members to play with heart and commitment was one of Time for Three’s two violinists, Nick Kendall. An hour later I was having an animated and delightful conversation with Nick’s grandfather, SAA Founding Father John Kendall. Very nice convergence.

Everything that day, up until my meeting with John Kendall, was indeed a lovely coincidence. I had planned all along to visit with Mr. Kendall during our trip to Ann Arbor. Although I had seen him at conventions, shook his hand, and was aware of his pioneering work in bringing the Suzuki Method to America, I had never had a conversation with him. At the age of 89, Mr. Kendall is as sharp, witty, and perceptive as I heard and imagined he was. Besides wonderful stories and reminiscences, I received some valuable pieces of advice. Most vivid were his admonitions that we in the American Suzuki world remain humble and democratic. We do not have a monopoly on treating children with respect, nor do we own the sole effective method for training young musicians and beautiful hearts. We can renew ourselves and strengthen our teaching by converging with and respecting traditions that share our core values. The Suzuki community has always been a community where ideas have been exchanged and debated. As we have grown bigger, more organizational structures have necessarily been put in place. Nonetheless, it is still valuable to encourage and listen to many voices and to leave the floor open for strong opinions. Democracy is messy, but it is the best system we have.

Meeting this venerable parent of the Suzuki Method put my life inside the Suzuki world into broad perspective. In the half century since John Kendall visited Matsumoto and learned about its amazing resident pedagogue, the Suzuki Method in the Americas has grown into one of the most respected approaches to education on our continents, a Method that involves over a quarter million students, teachers, and parents in its beautiful work. Our Association, born out of the desire of a handful of Suzuki teachers to further the mission of the Suzuki Method by banding together, has grown to an organization of over 8,000 members with enough self-confidence to allow a Suzuki Parent to serve as its Board Chair.

In retrospect, my experience on the Board, coupled with my years as a Suzuki parent and adult student, has been a meaningful convergence of all my values and interests. As a teacher, conductor, and composer, I am greatly interested in finding the most effective ways to nurture creativity while imparting disciplined skills and competencies. I have found myself adopting Suzuki’s ideas more and more, e.g. the notion that every person can create and that patience is required since creativity blossoms at a different rate for every person; or the use of imitation to start students acquiring the foundation skills on which creativity builds; or the general “other-centric” Suzuki stance that has changed what I think my own music should accomplish.

I also value friendship and community highly. During seven years on the SAA Board, I have made wonderful friends and have felt part of a community dedicated to the excellent execution of a noble mission. What could be more fun or more gratifying! Hard work, lots of hours, yes, but always made enjoyable by the support and company of such able and convivial colleagues.

Now I know that this sounds like the final phrases of my SAA swansong, but you are not that easily rid of me. I hope that someone will ask me to volunteer to serve on SAA committees—a Parents’ Committee or a Task Force on Developing Suzuki Pedagogy programs in Higher Education, etc. In fact, that is my final message to SAA members. If you are a Teacher or Teacher Trainer or Parent who feels you have accomplished a lot and received much in return as a result of your association with the Suzuki Method, then continue to volunteer. The health of the SAA and the Method depends on your generosity of spirit, time, and resources. I hope that you and I will continue to give lovingly whatever we can to our shared endeavor.