You are here
and so here I am
These are the last words (written by A. E. Jaques) of John Mackey’s incredible Places we can no longer go, which was premiered tonight by Gary Hill and the Arizona State University Wind Orchestra. They also perfectly describe the relationship of student and teacher.
You are here
and so here I am
Gary Hill was (is) my teacher. He emphasized the “we” over the “I,” encouraged us to always adopt a communal spirit with ensembles. But tonight, here I am. I would not be at this particular here if not for the necessary precondition: you (Gary Hill) are here.
You are here
and so here I am
His being here was the beacon that allowed me to reach my here, not without all kinds of struggle and confusion. When I needed a path forward, he opened the door. I imagine that I could have been a better student, could have let go of some preconceptions faster, could have seen his light for what it was with greater clarity. Still, he guided me to my here.
You are here
and so here I am
Watching him at his final gigantic, no holds barred, all stops pulled mega concert has stirred up unexpected emotions. He’s not disappearing from the planet, but it’s like that thing that we shared that (it turns out) meant so much to me and made such a difference in my life is over for real. I became Dr. Pease almost four years ago, so that chapter should have been neatly concluded in my head, but I guess you’re never through with your mentors. Gary Hill has continued to shine like a beacon for me, even (especially) when I struggle, and now that light is changing venues, moving on. Will I still be able to find it? Will it, perhaps, shine even brighter?
Do I have this kind of effect on my students? Do I deserve that?
One thing I want to learn more of from Gary Hill is courage. Everything about tonight’s concert absolutely SCREAMED courage, from the rep selection to the tech setup to even the chair placement on the stage. As exceptional as all of it was, at every turn I said “that’s Gary Hill.” While much of it was shocking, none of it was surprising. Courage is hard for me, but I see the beacon showing me the way.
Whatever I have left to learn, I would not be who I am today without Gary Hill. Thank you for just being.
You are here
and so here I am