Graduates of the Violin Making School of America were asked to write a tribute letter to the school and Peter in particular, as part of a 40th anniversary celebration. I loved my time at the VMS. Here is my letter.
Nobody has been as influential in my life as my teachers. I suspect most people would say the same thing. I have been fortunate to have many great mentors, importantly among them Peter Prier, Charles Woolf, J. P. Lucas and Kory Katseanes. All four were my teachers at the Violin Making School of America. I arrived at the school days after graduating from college, fresh from Indiana University with a violin performance degree and a "minor" in stringed instrument technology. I didn't yet know how much I didn't know. My teachers did, however. Nonetheless, they all treated me with respect, and I got right to work.
Despite my many blunders and shortcomings, and maybe even because of them, my teachers always looked out for me, above and beyond teaching and inspiring. Kory, our violin teacher, allowed me to discuss religion with him during our lessons, rather than play the violin. I was a disillusioned musician and an inactive Latter-day Saint and I needed the conversation more than I needed the violin instruction. Kory was my non-judgmental, loving, listening ear at a time when what I was saying must have seemed quite sophomoric to him. I remember him smiling and nodding, even chuckling and I remember feeling his gentle concern. He was, to each student, what they needed individually.
J.P. was my varnish teacher during graduation. He was an excellent instructor, pouring out everything he knew and helping us run with it. He was enthusiastic and energetic and also very fun. I had gotten married with a year left to go at the VMS. I was eight months pregnant with my first child when I did my graduation work. Yes, that was my plan. I didn't think through the consequences of having a massive stomach in the way while I was woodworking and varnishing, and my varnished violin was judged unfit for graduation. I had a week to strip it and re-present it. While I would have liked to go home and fret all night, feeling overwhelmed, J.P. insisted on helping me strip the violin right then, so that it would be ready to re-varnish the very next day. Without him, I would not have graduated.
Charlie was my main teacher and I sat a bench or two away from him the whole four years. I loved arriving at school and chatting with Charlie. His knowledge about everything was vast, infinite, effortless, and we mined a wide variety of subjects in our conversation. Charlie always had a violin he was working on, but his students always took first priority. I can't remember a day when Charlie missed school. I do remember him caring for our neighbor, George, and visiting him in the hospice center when he was dying. Charlie inspired respect from his students simply by being quietly excellent and demanding the same from his protégées. He was always able to take the students’ immaturity and ignorance in stride and teach to the best that was in each person. He had a profound influence on my life, and I missed him and our workbench banter acutely when I graduated and moved on.
Peter Prier was an authority figure for me long before I became a student at the school. From childhood, my parents took me to his beautiful shop for my violins, strings and bow rehairs. Peter's employee, Ray Anderson, chose my violin for me when I was ready for a nice one, and talked my parents into seeing the value of such a nice instrument. I loved that gorgeous violin. It inspired me! But then it needed a case. It was Christmastime and my mother had a modest budget planned for our family's gifts. I wanted a Gorge case, and my mom went to Peter. When he told her the price of the case, she broke down crying. It was more than her whole holiday budget. Peter gave her a substantial discount, and absolutely made our Christmas possible. He may have done it just to get a hysterical woman out of his shop, but I tend to think it was because of his tender heart.
I had seen Peter's tender heart at violin recitals. His daughter Tammy and I had the same teacher, K.P. Peterson. On a couple of occasions, Tammy got stage fright and didn't want to play. Her dad swallowed her up in his big arms and told her she didn't have to, that it was OK. I experienced Peter's compassion on other occasions, when Peter was there to counsel me with a father's experience, or in his words, as "an old fox." I was honored, since Peter and I share the same faith, to have him at my wedding in the Salt Lake LDS temple.
Seeing his face there on that sacred occasion brought home the truth that there is nothing one can do in life that has a greater impact than teaching the rising generation. I admire Peter for founding the school, and for sharing his hard-won knowledge so widely and completely. It is entirely safe to say that the Violin Making School of America is responsible for a renaissance in violin making in this country and around the world. That is not hyperbole; it is the truth. I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to study there and to come of age in such a unique and thrilling place. Thank you, Peter, Charlie and all the rest for your standard of excellence and your mentorship. We are all indebted. Vive la VMSA!
Nobody has been as influential in my life as my teachers. I suspect most people would say the same thing. I have been fortunate to have many great mentors, importantly among them Peter Prier, Charles Woolf, J. P. Lucas and Kory Katseanes. All four were my teachers at the Violin Making School of America. I arrived at the school days after graduating from college, fresh from Indiana University with a violin performance degree and a "minor" in stringed instrument technology. I didn't yet know how much I didn't know. My teachers did, however. Nonetheless, they all treated me with respect, and I got right to work.
Despite my many blunders and shortcomings, and maybe even because of them, my teachers always looked out for me, above and beyond teaching and inspiring. Kory, our violin teacher, allowed me to discuss religion with him during our lessons, rather than play the violin. I was a disillusioned musician and an inactive Latter-day Saint and I needed the conversation more than I needed the violin instruction. Kory was my non-judgmental, loving, listening ear at a time when what I was saying must have seemed quite sophomoric to him. I remember him smiling and nodding, even chuckling and I remember feeling his gentle concern. He was, to each student, what they needed individually.
J.P. was my varnish teacher during graduation. He was an excellent instructor, pouring out everything he knew and helping us run with it. He was enthusiastic and energetic and also very fun. I had gotten married with a year left to go at the VMS. I was eight months pregnant with my first child when I did my graduation work. Yes, that was my plan. I didn't think through the consequences of having a massive stomach in the way while I was woodworking and varnishing, and my varnished violin was judged unfit for graduation. I had a week to strip it and re-present it. While I would have liked to go home and fret all night, feeling overwhelmed, J.P. insisted on helping me strip the violin right then, so that it would be ready to re-varnish the very next day. Without him, I would not have graduated.
Charlie was my main teacher and I sat a bench or two away from him the whole four years. I loved arriving at school and chatting with Charlie. His knowledge about everything was vast, infinite, effortless, and we mined a wide variety of subjects in our conversation. Charlie always had a violin he was working on, but his students always took first priority. I can't remember a day when Charlie missed school. I do remember him caring for our neighbor, George, and visiting him in the hospice center when he was dying. Charlie inspired respect from his students simply by being quietly excellent and demanding the same from his protégées. He was always able to take the students’ immaturity and ignorance in stride and teach to the best that was in each person. He had a profound influence on my life, and I missed him and our workbench banter acutely when I graduated and moved on.
Peter Prier was an authority figure for me long before I became a student at the school. From childhood, my parents took me to his beautiful shop for my violins, strings and bow rehairs. Peter's employee, Ray Anderson, chose my violin for me when I was ready for a nice one, and talked my parents into seeing the value of such a nice instrument. I loved that gorgeous violin. It inspired me! But then it needed a case. It was Christmastime and my mother had a modest budget planned for our family's gifts. I wanted a Gorge case, and my mom went to Peter. When he told her the price of the case, she broke down crying. It was more than her whole holiday budget. Peter gave her a substantial discount, and absolutely made our Christmas possible. He may have done it just to get a hysterical woman out of his shop, but I tend to think it was because of his tender heart.
I had seen Peter's tender heart at violin recitals. His daughter Tammy and I had the same teacher, K.P. Peterson. On a couple of occasions, Tammy got stage fright and didn't want to play. Her dad swallowed her up in his big arms and told her she didn't have to, that it was OK. I experienced Peter's compassion on other occasions, when Peter was there to counsel me with a father's experience, or in his words, as "an old fox." I was honored, since Peter and I share the same faith, to have him at my wedding in the Salt Lake LDS temple.
Seeing his face there on that sacred occasion brought home the truth that there is nothing one can do in life that has a greater impact than teaching the rising generation. I admire Peter for founding the school, and for sharing his hard-won knowledge so widely and completely. It is entirely safe to say that the Violin Making School of America is responsible for a renaissance in violin making in this country and around the world. That is not hyperbole; it is the truth. I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to study there and to come of age in such a unique and thrilling place. Thank you, Peter, Charlie and all the rest for your standard of excellence and your mentorship. We are all indebted. Vive la VMSA!
2 comments:
A little more gratitude in the world for those who help us is needed. Thanks for sharing your inspiring story.
A great letter of appreciation and congratulations to the School. You learned more than just violin making there from the sounds of your letter. Tools for the violin and tools for life. XO Tricia
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