Saturday, January 4, 2025

Remembering Jim Kjelland

I am realizing that I have written several in-memoriam posts on my blog over the past couple of years. I guess this is the reality of a teaching career that spans almost 40 years. The people who influence us so strongly can't be there forever. But, we can hold their memory and their influence close to our hearts. In my case, I find a great deal of solace in being able to articulate my thoughts through this blog format. It provides some sort of true closure for me and a way to say thanks that is somehow ongoing.


I was saddened to learn recently that Jim Kjelland, a dear friend and mentor, had passed away. Jim had a pivotal role in my early teaching career and in my way of thinking about pedagogy. I have always counted him among the strongest influences on my trajectory as a string educator. 


Some of you will recognize Jim's name as one of the co-authors of Strictly Strings, the string method series he co-authored with Jacquelyn Dillon and John O'Reilly. First published in 1992, the Strictly Strings series enjoyed a great deal of success when it was published and continues to be used today by programs across the United States.


For me, Jim was much more than a noted pedagogue and author. He was truly a friend, mentor, and advisor. I first met Jim in 1988 when I attended a summer string pedagogy workshop at Central Connecticut State University. This two-week intensive workshop was co-taught by Jim, Marvin Rabin, and Dorothy Straub. 


Prior to attending that workshop, I was very familiar with Marvin Rabin and Dorothy Straub’s reputations and work. Marvin Rabin had conducted several honor orchestras that I was familiar with over the years. I had read his articles and seen his photo in ASTA and MENC publications. I honestly can't swear that he hadn't conducted me at some point in my high school career. He also co-taught, along with Red Mcleod, a wonderful workshop in the fall of 1986, that focused on strolling strings. I attended that workshop with my student teaching mentor, Walter Straiton, and learned so much in a very short period of time. Dorothy had been the host of the All Eastern Division MENC (now NAfME) Orchestra in Boston, in which I participated as a high school senior in 1983. Incidentally, William LaRue Jones was the conductor of that orchestra and he continues to be a dear friend and mentor to this day. I remember how impressed I was with her throughout that event. She was so good at public speaking and so organized. I remember thinking that it was the most organized event I had ever attended. Over the years, she served as President of both MENC and ASTA. I was so excited to work with each of them through this workshop and was quite curious about what Jim Kjelland would bring to the table working along side these pillars of string education.


Throughout the course of the workshop, we had sessions with each of these instructors. I have written before about Marvin Rabin’s teaching of the Bornoff Finger Pattern concept and cyclic exercises. Dorothy was much more the traditionalist. She walked us through various method books (String Builder and others) and pedagogical string repertoire. I remember playing Percy Fletcher's Folk Tune and Fiddle Dance for the first time at that workshop. It became an instant staple of my conducting repertoire. I think of her every time I conduct that piece. She essentially provided the overview of string education in the public schools up to that point. 


Jim approached his teaching from a completely different perspective. I remember very early in the workshop, Jim speaking about the “gestalt approach” of string pedagogy. The idea is that the sum of string technique and skills is greater than its parts. I vividly remember him saying the most important lesson any student ever has is their first lesson and that each lesson builds on all that has been taught previously. I remember a diagram of a brick wall drawn on the chalkboard. Each of the bricks was a different technical skill: left hand setup, bow hold, bow arm, intonation, rhythmic development, dynamics, and the list goes on. As bricks were added to the diagram, higher in the wall one might find concepts such as vibrato, musicality, phrasing, tonal nuance, tone, and others. Jim also taught sessions on orchestral bowings. Many of the ideas presented at the workshop went on to become part of his well-known book on orchestral bowings published in 2003. 


In addition to the classes he taught, Jim was always available for a conversation. Jim and I spent many evenings at that workshop talking until the wee hours of the night. Everybody else would fade out around 10:00 or 11:00 PM, and he and I would continue the conversation well past midnight. Jim and I really hit it off. I loved picking his brain and he seemed to really enjoy offering the benefit of his experience to me as a young teacher who was just sopping up knowledge as fast as I could. I will remember one particular conversation about teaching vibrato. This conversation has stayed with me my entire career. To set up this conversation, you need to know that Jim was originally a trombone player. He picked up strings later in life and had to learn all of the fundamental and advanced string techniques as an adult student. This, Jim believed, was a great advantage to him as a string educator. He remembered the struggle and was able to really decompose these difficult techniques into smaller more manageable parts. Jim knew that I was a pretty good violinist and was coming at string education from a different perspective than he. I had been playing the violin for as long as I could remember and in all honesty many advanced techniques came quite easily to me. In our conversation, I remember mentioning that I was able to do vibrato almost immediately when it was introduced to me by my teacher. It just seemed very natural and it didn't take a lot of work for me to develop a very nice left hand vibrato. Jim cautioned me that this could be a disadvantage as a string teacher. He encouraged me to really think about how I could break every advanced technique into smaller more manageable parts so that I could articulate these techniques to my students. He told me that I had a real uphill climb since things had come relatively easily to me as a student. I really took that advice to heart. I have probably thought about that conversation a thousand times over the years. That late night conversation has probably influenced me as a teacher and pedagogue more than almost any other conversation I have ever had. I owe Jim a great deal of gratitude for keeping it real with me in those early years of my career. Those late night hangs were really pivotal for me. They also were a great example of the fact that relationships are what really matter in the teaching profession. Jim took time for me. He listened to me and offered his advice freely. He made me feel like my ideas were important. 


Jim and I remained friends over the years. We would frequently take time to have a conversation or a cup of coffee at whichever conference we landed at at the same time. 


Many years later, when I was serving as president of the North Carolina Music Education Association Orchestra chair, I invited Jim to conduct the NCMEA Honors Orchestra in the fall of 2005. We had so much fun that weekend, sharing many meals, car rides, and late night conversations just like the old times. I was so happy to introduce the teachers and students of North Carolina to Jim's unique approach to conducting and music education. He was a huge hit!


I ran into Jim at a Midwest clinic a few years later, and I think that's the last time I saw him in person. I was so pleased in recent years to know that my friend Jen Bassett also had a close personal relationship with Jim. We sent him a selfie and I think he was truly pleased to see that we had become friends.


Jim had an incredible amount of influence on the string education profession in his lifetime. He was a thoughtful pedagogue, a committed teacher mentor, and an unwavering friend. I will really miss him and will continue to think of him often in so many ways. Thank you, Jim, for all you did for me.