Post by Jerry WillardThis is an interesting thread - i had some teachers that helped me,
teachers that damaged me and teachers that did both. When i was
starting out guitar pedagogy was in it's infancy at least in the USA
and good teachers were few and far between. I was asked by the NYCCGS
to write something about my most influential teacher and here it is
at this link or see below
http://nyccgs.com/2008/04/nylon-asks-the-pros/
Jerry Willard: When I was a child in the late 1950s, just beginning
to become interested in music, the guitar was in its infancy as a
concert instrument and teachers were difficult to come by. There were
few players and few teachers and even fewer good teachers. I was a
young man, a bit of a prodigy, in that I could play some difficult
pieces in an era when very few people could. I was used to being
coddled and people were continually saying, "You play so beautifully,
you're so young," and so forth. It was then that I met not only my
first good teacher but the most unforgettable person I have ever
known: Richard Lurie.
Mr. Lurie had a guitar studio in Cleveland, Ohio and was known as
very fine jazz and classical guitarist. Dick also sponsored artists
and set up concerts for the young Julian Bream, Segovia, Presti &
Lagoya, and John Williams. Needless to say, it was a thrill for me to
be able to talk to, take an occasional lesson from, and rub shoulders
with these truly great musicians. I was young and had the arrogance
of youth. So at my first lesson with Dick, I sat down, opened the
music and said, "I think." Mr. Lurie's baton slapped down on the page
of music. He looked me straight in the eye and said, "Who cares what
you think? You're here to find out what I think. If you want to know
what you think you can stay at home!" That was my introduction to
boot camp with Mr. Lurie. Sometimes in my lessons I felt as if I was
being taken apart and reassembled. Every truth I held about music and
art was examined and dissected. I was being taught to think in spite
of myself. That is the most valuable gift a teacher can give a
student. Underneath his tough exterior there was a man who loved art
and music. He cared about people and that came across in his
teaching. It also kept me coming back for more lessons.
I studied with Dick Lurie off and on from 1964 to 1972. Towards the
end of my tenure with Dick we had become good friends. I was getting
ready to move to New York City in an effort to further my career and
live the life of a professional musician. I remember Dick saying,
"Just because you like to do something is not a reason to try to make
a living at it." I looked at Dick quizzically. He looked back at me,
"You like sex, right?" I gulped and said yes. He said, "Well, it
might not be such a good idea to make a living at it." That was Dick,
invariably cutting to the core with his own unique eccentricity.
Dick passed away in August of 2000. He knew he was going to die and
was selling off his extraordinary collection of instruments to
dealers in Asia. Guitars such as Hauser and Fleta, acoustic jazz
guitars such as D'Angelico and Stromberg. He wanted to make it easier
for his wife so she wouldn't have to deal with it. He accepted his
death in a way that was realistic and not sentimental. I wept when I
heard of Dick's passing. He taught me about music, and he taught me
about life and a realistic view of my place in it. Today, every
concert I play, every rehearsal I attend or lesson I teach, I use
ideas and concepts I learned from Dick Lurie.
Great post - thanks for sharing that with us, Jerry.