"What are you doing at Harvard?"

If someone asks you this question, you're either a) an engineering sciences concentrator or b) a serious classical musician.

The former has the good fortune of possessing the "I'm cross-enrolling at MIT" outlet, but how is the latter supposed to argue the terms of his or her existence at an institution that wields a decidedly lesser amount of musical clout than it does academically? Perhaps a better question would concern whether these individuals of unusual talent and artistry should be forced to defend themselves in the first place.

Perhaps this is simply a sign of the times.

The classical music world continues to recede from the reaches of public attention, collapsing from lack of support beyond that of the silver-haired concertgoers who routinely fill Boston's Symphony and Jordan Halls. Even world-renowned orchestras from London and Berlin find themselves playing to the same sterling sea--all too often, the modern citizen instinctively sets aside any abiding appreciation for classical music, saving it for the Sunday matinees of his or her golden years. The names Yo-Yo and Itzhak ring bells for many Americans, but few would immediately recognize the virtues of pianist Max Levinson '93 or cellist Matt Haimovitz '96, both of fairly recent recording fame. It is no wonder that performing artists of a classical bent at Harvard find them-selves on the defensive more often than not.

Making the decision to come to Harvard, as opposed to studying at a conservatory and obtaining any possible leading musical edge in times such as these, is difficult enough in itself. Repeatedly justifying such a decision requires even more strength and self-confidence. Twelve students-a small sample among many others of current and bygone years-provide a wide range of reasons for circumventing the conservatory. What remains unquestionable is their right to choose an institution where their artistic and academic efforts are welcomed, encouraged and appreciated.

A Dream Deterred?

For most of these students, their musical careers were initiated at an age where other children were just striving to color within the lines.

Some discovered music on their own, while others received encouragement from parents; in either case, it was the student's own momentum that propelled them through many years of hard practice. Although an established legacy of musical performance and/or over a decade's dedication to practice would definitely seem to favor conservatory attendance on the instrumentalist's part, the decision to come to Harvard was not without sacrifice.

One major consideration is the prospect of concentrating solely on music. It is undoubtedly easier to put in three to six hours of practice per day without the additional concerns of papers to write, problem sets to complete and sections to attend. Violinist Jennifer Caine '01 notes that outside of taking classes like Music 180 at Harvard, most performing must "be done on the side, as extracurricular activities. I try to do a lot of catching up in the summer to make up for lack of practice during the school year."

Unfortunately, some musicians find that no amount of catching up can remedy the absence of a sharply-focused, easily-implemented program of practice at Harvard, where academic distractions and a theory-heavy music curriculum detract from the student's ability to perfect the art of performance. "The tragedy is that while Harvard can easily become the place where you decide music is the love of your life, you may reach this epiphany at a point in your life when it really is too late for that decision," admits senior Akiko Tarumoto '98, a violinist of 16 years' experience and member of the Ehrkern String Quartet. "People who have most of their technical faculties in place, but still need some fine-tuning...should undoubtedly go to a music school where they can practice for hours and hours and become fantastic musicians. [For] the ones without super-human musical abilities, the decision is that much harder to make."

In spite of the risk of finding one's true love for music while entrenched in the world of academia, these twelve students, including Tarumoto, still cite the "Harvard experience" as one of the greatest sources of the college's magnetism. "It was painful saying good-bye to the opportunity to focus on piano intensively for four crucial years," says Albert Kim '98. "Even more painful when I heard someone [say] during my freshman year', You gave up Curtis and Juilliard for here? Are you crazy?" says Albert Kim '99. Crazy enough to be drawn by the Harvard name and "all those glorious things we as pre-frosh believe it will deliver," Kim, who is preparing for a European tour and has definite intentions to study at a conservatory after graduating, proves that the non-conservatory detour can be taken in stride.

Music Boxes

"Smothering," "stifling," a land of "mindless, slave-driven automatons"-these descriptors jump to the forefront of the stereotypical conservatory image. Obviously a bit distorted in their portrayal of the purely music-oriented education, these are the stereotypes that institutions like The Juilliard School seeks to dispel, and that prospective students must battle when weighing college against conservatory. A past enrollee in Juilliard's Pre-College Division, Tarumoto speaks from experience when she says, "All are true and untrue depending on what you are looking for in your education. Having an identity shaped almost solely by how good you are at this one thing can be suffocating, frustrating and bad for your self-esteem."

It comes as no surprise that a description of student life at The Juilliard School emphasizes the variety of student activities outside of practice and performance. The summary reads, "Juilliard students are not typical college students. They are passionate and dedicated about preparing for [the future]. They are used to long hours of lessons, practice and rehearsals. Yet, with all their commitments, Juilliard students find the time to socialize, participate in organized activities, attend cultural events, and, most importantly, enlist their talents in a broad range of community service." Students at Juilliard can even cross-enroll at Columbia University to take classes in the humanities. Aside from being accustomed to long hours of practice and rehearsals, the typical conservatory student bears a marked resemblance to many members of Harvard's student body. Even so, they aren't perfectly inter-changeable.

For some, like Laura Lawless '00, who felt that her "childhood had been curtailed by frequent trips away to compete," and that she had "lost hours with friends because of musical responsibilities," coming to Harvard provided a newfound sense of freedom. With a dearth of practice rooms and a lack of adequate lesson subsidies, though, fair Harvard holds no beacon of liberation to guide her music students.

The complaints spring from all sides. No one should have to practice in recycling rooms, as Caine does; oboist Dearbhla McHenry '00 remembers many quality hours spent in the Greenough laundry room. When it comes down to practice room access, "the Saturday 1 p.m. to 4:15 is a pathetic gesture," laments composer David Salvage '01. Likewise, Kar-mun Woo '01 finds it "sad and rather insulting that Harvard can't trust us enough to give us access to practice rooms without somebody there to patrol us."

Cellist Stephen Cho '97-'98 points out that the $200 per semester lesson grants will pay for "about a lesson and a half with some teachers in the area." These grants seem little more than a token act on the part of the Office of the Arts, and this policy often forces students to consider the practicality of furthering their musical pursuits. "Barring the miniscule possibility that I win the Mass Millions jackpot, I am going to put music on hold for a little while," says Cho, who is currently pursuing a career in investment banking, even though he realizes that music is, has always been and always will always be his one great passion in life.

One possible explanation for Harvard's apparent insensitivity to musi- cians' need is surprisingly simple: it justcomes with the territory. "Harvard made aconscious choice decades ago not to do what Yalehas done," said Allston Burr Senior Tutor ofKirkland House and music seminar instructor Dr.Mark Risinger. That is, the college chose not toestablish a school of music. With Juilliard,Curtis, Peabody and the New England Conservatoryin relatively close proximity, Risinger explained,there was no need for Harvard to divert itsfaculty and finances from academics. "We don'thave the same sort of obligation to maximizeperformance opportunity that a conservatory wouldhave." "My primary concern in talking withprospective students," Risinger added, "is to makesure they have an accurate impression of whatHarvard is like for performing musicians." Such adistinction is crucial for the student who mightsign away four formative, potentiallycareer-developing years.

This is not to say that Harvard is completelyoblivious to the efforts of rising musicians.Cellist Haimovitz is living proof. He now shareslabels with the likes of Eduard Lalo on PolygramKlassik. Following Haimovitz's transfer to Harvardfrom Princeton, the music department went to greatlengths to accommodate his needs and his erraticperformance schedule, as did Kirkland House, byensuring that he had access to sufficient practicespace. When referring to the majority of cases,however, Risinger offers a logical analogy."Musical performance here is akin to varsityathletics. People will be enthusiastic andsupportive," but in the end, the emphasis stillrests on academics.

It Was Good Enough For Yo-Yo Ma '76...

So why would a serious student of classicalmusic performance even consider coming to Harvard?Just ask Joseph Lin '00, of recent "Joe with HRO"fame. "I had an idea of what life was like, and Ididn't want to be so narrowly focused." He said,"I definitely think that coming to Harvard,instead of shutting the door to music, has openedit more. You appreciate it within a broadercontext."

A broader context includes more than thediversity inherent to a liberal arts curriculum.One of the most important components of musicalperformance is, after all, the audience. "Hereyour audience is as broad and deep as you couldhope for--and refreshingly young. The sounds youmake will hit your audience in a thousanddifferent ways. Could you hope for as much withthe better informed but narrower spectrum oflisteners in any musical establishment?" asks Kim.Exposure to personal diversity is one advantageHarvard holds over any conservatory's studentbody. Salvage delineates this advantageous linkbetween audience and musician, saying, "Peoplehere are fascinating and driven. So many know somuch about so many different things, that theinteraction is amazingly refreshing--and alsogreatly beneficial to music making."

Faculty members like Risinger, Dr. Robert Levinand Dr. John Stewart, who helped Lawless tounderstand that "being a musician does notnecessarily mean alienating oneself from otherdisciplines," also illuminate and lend credibilityto Harvard's music department. Additionally, thereis always the option of taking a semester off ordeferring admission entirely. Cellist Jennifer Lee'01, who deferred admission for a year to study ata conservatory in Germany, found the "depth of themusic world of Europe unbelievable." Yet shereturned to Harvard because she felt that sheneeded "something more, "even if it meant leavingher professor thinking that she "came here tobecome an egghead."

Resting in this particular carton of eggheadsare a lacrosse player, concentrators in physicsand comparative religion, future I-bankers andclinical psychologists. At one point during theiryears at Harvard, Ma, Lynn Chang '75 and JamesBuswell '70 may have been eggheads as well, butbeing an egghead has its benefits. Chances are, ata conservatory, musicians like McHenry would notfind that their friends are delighted for themwhen they're bouncing off the walls after a reallygood lesson. Nor would one find a duo of pianistslike Andrew Park '01 and Woo, who "sit there andjust laugh." Park knows the answer to the Harvardquestion, too, as everyone does. When asked "Whyare you here?" by a peer, Park provides a gentlereminder: "For the same reason that you are." Youcan't argue with that.CrimsonSamuel P. Tepperman-GelfantTHE FOUR TOPS: Members of the EhrkernString Quartet rehearse in the Adams House LowerCommon Room; they could be at Julliardinstead.