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uch
of our work takes place in silence," explains the Music Department's
Ron Caltabiano as he welcomes a visitor to a one-on-one session with Jono
Kornfeld, a graduate student in music composition. Even though teacher and
student sit next to a piano, they hardly touch the keys. The dominant sounds
during the hour-long class are words, not notes.
As Caltabiano reviews
the score of Kornfeld's work in progress, his comments seem technical. They
deal with downbeats, elisions, fermatas. His suggestions are practical: "Give
the flutist a rest here" and "The mezzo is going to expand on that
note, so get the instruments to a place that match her."
You hear similar
comments
in the various group and individual classes taught by SF State's prize-winning
musical faculty. The topics include notation (when to switch from the bass
to the treble clef when writing for cello),
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balance (the danger
that a singer'svoice may be covered by the other instruments), and limitations
of both the instruments and performances. Many remarks seem designed to
make the students aware of choices they've made and possible alternatives.
Occasionally
generalizations emerge ("Getting an instrument out of a piece is
as difficult as getting it in"), but they are rare. As department
member Richard Festinger explains, "Knowledge is contextual. You
can't talk about principles outside a particular musical situation."
Nuts-and-bolts
comments comprise the text of the lessons, but they are not the subtext,
the underlying point. Although the four faculty members may express that
point somewhat differently, the substance of their teaching is the same:
to help each student express an individual voice and find a place in a
continuing musical tradition.
To find their
own places in the tradition, the four took different

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