VOICES
POT POURRI
State of the Arts In response to our summer Arts Issue, readers reflect on memorable music, art, and theatre that profoundly impacted their lives.
S
POT POURRI
omeone at Andover in 1957 arranged for a group of students to attend an afternoon concert by Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic at Boston Symphony Hall. Though I was a very unsophisticated Seattle kid on a full scholarship, I knew Brahms’ Second Symphony by heart from my well-worn Columbia LP. Suddenly, in Boston, in the middle of the second movement, I found myself sobbing. It seemed to me that Brahms was crying his heart out, and I could only join him. I had never experienced such a response to music before, and it frightened me. That evening, I wrote to the blind violinist who owned the neighborhood record store where I worked as a teenager, asking him if I should be worried about this extreme behavior.
—PAULA (PRIAL) FOLKMAN ’54
Was I losing it? He had been my guide to many musical discoveries (Callas, Milanov, Ponselle...and all the great composers). And I trusted him. To my tears, he answered, “Welcome to the club!” Much earlier in Seattle, as I was stepping into adolescence, I asked my somewhat musical mother if the intense joy I got from classical music was a gift I would have all my life, or was it “just a phase?” For the first time in my life, I realized she didn’t understand me or my question. I felt so alone! I feared this special happiness might pass away, even though I couldn’t imagine how that would happen. (Music, especially Handel’s Messiah, was my escape from a pervasive self-hatred for being gay. How could I cope if I “lost” music?) My blind friend, on the other hand, fully understood me and, what’s more, celebrated my passage! As I went on to Columbia and, among many other things, the thrills of standing room at the old Metropolitan Opera, I came to appreciate this passage as a vital opening of my soul to a long life filled with cherished moments of ecstasy. If Andover hadn’t taken me to Boston that day, how long would it have taken for me to come alive?
Paula (Prial) Folkman ’54 in production of H.M.S. Pinafore
—ROD PARKE ’57
4
A N D O V E R | FA L L / W I N T E R 2 0 2 1
ISTOCK: BEETHOVEN, GWENGOAT
MARINE AMOUROUX ’98 via Facebook
COURTESY OF THE EAGLE-TRIBUNE
In response to Eagle Tribune article about Gus ’93 (left, NY Mets hitting coach) and Hugh Quattlebaum ’96 (right, Red Sox VP of scouting development), pictured here with Gus’s sons and their parents faculty emeriti Ruth and Ed ’60:
“ I spent only one year (’97–’98) in Andover as a Kemper scholar. I was lucky enough to have both Mr. and Mrs. Quattlebaum, teaching history and art history...big-hearted people, genuine teachers, still in my heart and memory.”
The article on p. 13 of the Arts Issue references the Gilbert and Sullivan productions led by [Abbot music instructor] Miss Kate Friskin. But three also occurred in the early 1950s. They were Pirates of Penzance (1952), H.M.S. Pinafore (1953) [see photo at left], and Mikado (1954). I was lucky enough to have been very involved in these wonderful shows. Check the old issues of The Phillipian online—they got great reviews! While at Abbot, probably in 1972 or 1973, I first saw a slide of “Guernica” by Pablo Picasso. Dorothy Judd, a longtime Abbot Spanish teacher, spent a class period on this painting. She explained what occurred at Guernica in 1937 and why Picasso portrayed the tragedy in his distinctive way. His depiction of war and its consequences resonates today. I later saw the painting in its temporary New York home in 1973 and then in its permanent Madrid home in 2010. In between, I studied the painting in art history and Spanish classes. But nothing compares to seeing it for the first time at Abbot. —NOREEN MARKLEY ’73, P’11
Thank you for the awesome summer 2021 edition of the magazine. In response to your question about a piece of art that changed our lives, I’d like to share that the Avatar animated series on Nickelodeon fits that description. The beauty of the animation and the thoughtful storytelling of both The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra truly marked my consciousness. I’ve watched every season of both series multiple times and often think of the lessons learned by Aang and Korra as I face challenge after challenge in my life. When I became an Andover host mom a few years back, I bonded with the first international student who lived with us—a thoughtful and compassionate young woman from Turkey—over several hours indulging in Korra’s animated journey toward adulthood.
I fondly remember Pat Morgan’s art history class and time spent, at his direction, admiring the great collection in the Addison. In response to your suggestion about a piece of art that has made life “more bearable,” I am sharing pictures of an art sculpture that has brightened my days. On a visit to Old Town San Diego in 1968, I purchased an art sculpture of children on a teeter-totter by the Mexican artist Manuel Felguerez. He died last year, but his charming sculptures continue his legacy. This one brings a smile to my face, as it reminds me of riding on a seesaw at a public park when I was a child. Guests often have a similar response, happily relating their own childhood memories.
—RAQUEL MORENO ’01
—FRED FENTON ’53
“ Hey! I played Beethoven’s 5th with that person! They’re lucky to have Vivian on their team!!” PAUL HOCHMAN ’82 via Facebook
In response to Vivian Toy ’81 being named director of Career Mobility at the New York Times
Regarding recent Andover magazine award:
“ Well deserved. I once commented to the Yale magazine that they were almost as good as the Andover magazine…” @ADEKOYEJO75 via Instagram
5
