by Brian McLaughlin

I have crossed into uncharted waters. After more than 40 years as a music teacher, I have retired. Gone are the familiar days of schedules and routines, of deadlines and concerts to prepare, of dealing with parents and administrators, of trying to get students to go beyond the notes and reach for artistry. Life is different. There is a tremendous joy in being released from the details of so many time-consuming and unimportant tasks. I am able to turn my efforts and attention to the things that matter, at least which matter to me. But when former colleagues ask me what retirement is like, I have to say that I don’t really know…I’m only a year into it.

Like many retirees, I entered this next season of life with dreams of doing all the things I didn’t have the time to do when I was bound by clock and calendar. My wife and I have traveled quite a lot, going somewhere nearly every month, including a trip to Europe that was a retirement gift from my former students and their families! As avid outdoors people, we have hiked well over 100 miles in the last year. I have rediscovered the joy of listening to music for its own sake—which, after so many years of critiquing and evaluating, has been surprisingly difficult. To simply listen to a long work and enjoy the musical journey seems extravagant, but it has led to the discovery of an array of pieces I did not know. I am also more well-rested than I was at any point in my career.

If you’re thinking that this sounds like a good thing, you’re right! It is—but only because we prepared for it. I’m not talking about financial planning, although that is important. I’m talking about preparing yourself for a change in identity. Most people in Western society equate what they do with who they are. We get our sense of identity from the career we have; the better we are at our craft, the better we feel as people. The sudden loss of that career often sends people spinning: “If I’m no longer a (fill in the blank), then who am I? What good am I?” We go from a life where people respected our opinions and sought out our expertise to a life where others may not even know our names. So it is prudent to give thought to who you are apart from your career. I am convinced that it is as important to set your sights past the finish line of retirement as it is for students to look beyond graduation. 

Experts say that there are four stages of retirement: Vacation, Loss, Trial and Error, and Reinventing (Moynes, Riley. “The Four Phases of Retirement.” YouTube, uploaded by James Conole, CFP. June 18, 2024.) In my experience, they are not so much a progression as they are like rooms in a house. You sort of wander from room to room, maybe staying in one for a bit longer depending on the day.

1. Vacation: This initial phase is characterized by excitement and freedom. Retirees may indulge in travel, hobbies, and leisure activities that were previously limited by work. For the most part, this is where I live at the moment. It’s exciting to have all this free time, but I am too experienced to think that this can last for long. As Tom Higgins wrote about mountain climbing: 

The mountains always made the regular, flat world bearable, and the flat world made the mountains a sanctuary. It was the pull between the two which nourished. School and work without the mountains would have been deadly. The mountains without the nervous struggling down below would have been limbo, not heaven. (Higgins, Tom. "In Thanks." Ascent 1976, Sierra Club Books, San Francisco: page 23.)

Too many open hours each day can have a negative effect. I have a friend who also retired, and within a few months he was miserable. His friends told him to find a job—any job—and when he did, he became a decent person to be with again. Some just require an external framework to be happy.

2. Loss: This phase can involve feelings of uncertainty and loss. Retirees may miss the structure, purpose, and social connections that work provided, and struggle to find new meaning and routines. This phase is where my friend immediately went, and it's what I tried hard to hedge against. I knew that—unless I keeled over on the podium, or, still clutching my horn, fell out of my chair—I was going to have several years where I would likely no longer actively or regularly participate in the music making that has given so much meaning to my life. What will give meaning when those things are no longer available?

I will pause here for a moment because this issue is too important to gloss over, and the response to it makes all four stages much less difficult. It’s also what I meant when I said that we had prepared for retirement. The solution is in relationships. It helps if you imagine relationships to be like bank accounts. You have to make regular deposits if you ever hope to make any withdrawals. You have to care for and nurture your relationships while you are working if you hope to have strong ones when you retire. I have heard many people say that once they retired, their spouse seemed like a stranger, and the rate of divorce among retirees is the highest among all age groups in our society. Our careers can be a convenient distraction from the cultivation of relationships. We are busy enough to use work as an excuse for not prioritizing each other; but when career is stripped away, we suddenly see the actual state of our lives. This is true not only of our spouses or significant others but also of our children and friends.  

Musicians are particularly susceptible to this problem, regardless of whether we are performers or educators. Our craft is highly demanding of our time and concentration, but it is our choice whether we make it the most important thing in our lives or not. Age eventually comes for us all. I’ve gigged with some players who have spent their entire lives propping up their professional prestige rather than paying into any relationships, and as they age and the gigs become fewer, all that remains is a bunch of cellphone photos of themselves with celebrities who wouldn’t know them if they saw them on the street. They are some of the loneliest people I have ever met. Not investing in our relationships comes at a high cost.

3. Trial and Error: In this phase, retirees experiment with different activities and lifestyles to find what brings them fulfillment and purpose in retirement.

4. Reinventing: This final phase involves a renewed sense of purpose and satisfaction. Retirees have adapted to their new lifestyle and found meaningful ways to engage in activities and relationships.

I’ll leave these last two issues for now. I may experience them as the months pass, but I am also pursuing several different activities. There needs to be an outlet for all that musical energy that drove my heart for so long, so I have done a few clinics with local high school bands and enjoyed them. Perhaps I will be able to do some adjudicating as well. We are getting involved in a local church and meeting new people in the community. I’m also heavily involved with our local Mountain Club, going on climbing trips and teaching some of the younger members what I know from decades of climbing. Serving others seems like a good way to move forward. 

These are uncharted waters indeed. What will the next several years look like? I’ll let you know when I get there!

by Inman Hebert

As students of the horn, we will inevitably acquire musical role models. But how can we move beyond viewing successful horn players as unapproachable icons and learn to translate their experiences into unlocking our potential? We ought to examine the performances, skills, and traits of role models and apply these to our own musical development.

Listening to the recordings of great horn players connects us to sound models. For example, generations of horn players have attempted to emulate the sound of Dennis Brain on his recordings of the Mozart horn concerti. While very few living horn players knew him personally, his legacy continues through those recordings, influencing our ideas about the proper sound and style with which to perform Mozart. Other great players have made recordings which are easily accessible on YouTube or Spotify, and we have only to explore to discover the spectrum of interpretations that exists.

For artists who can be considered sound models, listen to their recordings, then consider the nuances in their phrase structures and emulate the subtleties. Additionally, research their published pedagogical materials. Many players have written articles or books outlining their philosophies on aspects of horn playing. Consider exactly what in their playing you admire, and incorporate their ideas as part of your quest for improvement. From those who have not written about sound concepts, many have been interviewed and so have recorded thoughts. (The IHS YouTube channel and website are repositories of many of these.) With proper research, we can learn a great deal from horn players with whom we have never had the privilege of interacting.

Our definition of musical models, however, should not be limited to elite performing artists of the horn. We should not neglect the lessons other instrumentalists and vocalists have to offer. From studying the breath support of singers, to how blowing relates to bowing, to the phrasing of concert pianists, other musicians’ ideas can powerfully inform our horn playing.

Teachers serve as role models but also mentor and guide us through challenges to help us accomplish our goals. They already know our weaknesses as players, so we should never allow pride to prevent us from asking questions. As students, we must keep an open mind and listen to the diagnoses and solutions they offer and follow through with persistence to solidify improvement.

We interact with horn players in school and at symposiums, workshops, concerts, and music festivals. Taking the time to learn from role models in the horn community may shift our ideas. With curiosity, we will become more observant, ask more questions, and open ourselves to new possibilities.

Chamber Music Corner—Tsontakis’ Dust for horn, violin, and piano

by Layne Anspach

George Tsontakis’ Dust for horn, violin, and piano will be the focus for this edition of Chamber Music Corner. George Tsontakis (b. 1951) is a Grammy-nominated American composer of Cretan heritage. He received his doctorate from The Julliard School in 1978 where he studied with Hugo Weisgall and Roger Sessions. From 1976, Tsontakis was a composer-in-residence at the Aspen Music Festival and founding director of the Aspen Contemporary Ensemble. He has received the international Grawemeyer Award and the Charles Ives Living Award. He is the Distinguished Composer in Residence at the Bard College Conservatory of Music.

Dust for horn, violin, and piano (1998) was commissioned by the Fontana Concert Society and subsequently premiered at the Fontana Music Festival in Kalamazoo, Michigan USA in 1999. In 1995 and 1996, Tsontakis wrote two works as homage to Olivier Messiaen centered around his Quartet for the End of Time. This trio is a continuation of that process, featuring aspects of both Quartet for the End of Time and Canyon to the Stars. At its core, the work is a spiritual one, focusing on lifespan, "from dust to dust," and the associated existential frailty of humanity. Between each movement, "sacred duos" serve as "reflective reverence for that which is sacred from within."

The first movement, Softly Expansive, starts with dyads in the piano and a sustained horn line. The violin enters like the horn and presses the movement forward until Dynamic, which expands with piano chords reminiscent of Messiaen. The movement slows to a soft close and is followed attacca by the First Sacred Duo. The second movement, With a sense of urgency, gives the piano the lead with a rhythmically energized section. When the violin and horn enter together, they are strong and rhythmically synchronized. A second section is characterized by stopped horn and violin interwoven together. The first and second sections return with alterations. The final seven measures have the violin and horn take over the rhythmic motif from the piano, but the piano has the last word as the Second Sacred Duo begins.

The piano flows gently forward in Elegant and Transparent while horn and violin maintain the melodic interest. There are interruptions to this flow, such as Suddenly forceful. An even more sedated section follows, with "chirps" in the violin and piano. The score indicates "as if the movement has ended" before another interruption, more violent than the first, Suddenly Explosive. The final section, Mysterious and Liquid, recalls fragments of prior material. Unlike the first two duos, the Third Sacred Duo is not performed attacca.

The last movement, Scherzo, starts with an introduction in which the horn seems to hold the group back with elongated lines before joining the others as the movement shoots forward. The opening section continues until Soliloquy, a horn solo, alters the flow. Following this, there are melodic quotes from previous movements, including an untitled sacred duo. In the final section, Slower, the elongated horn lines return but with ostinato piano and violin eighth notes. The work concludes with an ascending motif passed from piano to horn and finally to violin.

The reference recording is from a concert at the 33rd International Horn Symposium (2001), at Western Michigan University, Kalamazoo, Michigan. The hornist is David Jolley, to whom the work was dedicated.

Ein Waldhorn Lustig

by Caiti Beth McKinney

Hello everyone!

This month, I want to share with you just a little about the outstanding compositions of an incredibly accomplished but seldom remembered French composer, Elsa Barraine (1910-1999). In addition to her music, Barraine was also a fierce anti-Nazi activist during the German occupation of France in World War II. Of Jewish heritage herself, Barraine used her music and her skills with the written word to resist the atrocities occurring in her country and abroad.

Barraine was born to a musical family. Her father was the principal cellist of the Parisian Orchestre de l’Opéra until he was ousted by the Nazi regime in 1943, and her mother was a skilled pianist and chorus member of the Orchestre de la Société des Concerts du Conservatoire. Elsa enrolled at the Paris Conservatoire at the very young age of nine. There, she studied with famous composer Paul Dukas alongside other notables of her generation, including Yvonne Desportes, Claude Arrieu, and Olivier Messiaen. In 1929, when she was only 19 years old, Barraine won the prestigious Prix de Rome for her cantata about Joan of Arc entitled La vierge guerrière, making her only the fourth woman in history to win the award.

There is so much more to say about Barraine’s life and career that is beyond the scope of this column, but I would strongly encourage all readers to learn more about her outstanding achievements and her dedication to making a difference in the world. When it comes to the horn, Barraine wrote several excellent works for orchestra, including a tone poem entitled Pogromes she wrote while residing in Mussolini’s Italy. In addition to these larger scale works, Barraine composed a short piece for horn and piano, Crépuscules and Fanfare, which is becoming increasingly popular as a recital piece. This short, four-minute work is evocative of the “twilight” after which it is named. The lyrical and melancholy melody of the first movement is richly chromatic while remaining firmly within the world of tonality. The fanfare is joyful and technically challenging. It moves through the full register of the horn and showcases the performer’s ability to perform a repeated high B!

by Nikolette LaBonte, Principal Horn, Calgary Philharmonic

I’ve been a somewhat regular SNL viewer for most of my teenage and adult life. Throughout the years watching it, even as casts and writers change, one role has remained a constant presence on the show: the Impressionist. Often featuring heavily in political sketches, the Impressionist can recreate the presence of the most recent headline-making figure and bring them to whatever sketch has been prepared for that week’s cold open. Behind the scenes, I imagine these performers spending time in front of their computers, pulling up clips of the person they are trying to emulate. The actors take notice of hallmark features: tone of voice, inflection, hand gestures, body language, etc. Then they work out how to mimic them: what shape their oral cavity needs to have, how their tongue should move, into what physical shape they need to contort their bodies, and so on.

I’m not a comedian, despite how funny I might think I am. But I’ve been thinking a lot about impressions on the horn. Go to www.hornexcerpts.org right now and click on an excerpt you like. Listen to the first reference recording and think about how you could “do an impression” of that horn player. Just like a comedian, think about the shape of their oral cavity, their air, how they are articulating, their phrase shapes. Then take those ideas and try to incorporate them into your own playing. You might not sound exactly like they do; but do you sound more like them than before?

Impressions are the building blocks of exploring new colors, phrasing points, and inflections. Here’s an example: I am listening to a recording of the Beethoven 6 third movement excerpt, and I hear that the sound is wide and round, and the articulation is minimal. If I want to sound like that, I’ll modify my oral cavity to use an OH vowel, increase my air support to accommodate the larger space, and keep my articulation as low and back as possible. If I do all those things, I can sound a lot like that player’s rendition of Beethoven 6. Do I personally like that approach to that excerpt? Not entirely. But I do like the idea of that floaty sound, so I might try to modify my default oral cavity so that it’s a bit more open than usual…maybe with an AW vowel. But even if I don’t like everything about that approach to Beethoven 6, I LOVE it for Brahms 1. I’ll take the impression over to that excerpt and try it out there—and now my sound is rounder and broader, and it fits the character of Brahms perfectly!

Not sure where to start? Try something! Through trial and error, you’ll find you get better, just as comedians master their abilities over many years. You’ll notice which variables you can change in your own playing to be able to sound like any recording you might hear. And slowly, you’ll discover how to use these variables to create your own musical identity pieced together from various impressions, with varying tone colors, articulation styles, and interpretations. And maybe someday, other players will be working on impressions of you!

The 58th International Horn Symposium will be held at the Krzysztof Penderecki Academy of Music in Kraków, Poland, July 7-12, 2026, and hosted by Wojciech Kamionka.

Bookmark symposium.hornsociety.org and check regularly for updated information!