Music Lessons

Our new piano, purchased especially for Jory, came when he was 4 years old.  Suzuki piano lessons began with a young teacher named Roseanne.  The class consisted of 4-5 pre-schoolers, with moms planted on her living room sofa and kids sitting on the floor beside the piano.  Equipped with Book 1 and a set of audiocassettes, we came weekly for lessons, followed by supervised practice at home.  This early childhood method of learning to play an instrument was based upon the same principles as learning to speak a native language, so Jory was immersed into listening and then repeating.  At lessons, Roseanne would play the melody on the piano while each child took a turn sitting beside her on the bench repeating that melody. 

Starting with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, we listened to the cassettes everywhere we went, ensuring that melodies became familiar and ingrained.  California efficiency led to listening to the cassettes in the car.  We listened on the way to and from pre-school, on every trip to the supermarket, and even when we were driving older brother Darren's carpools to Hebrew school and soccer practices.  At home, Jory played the assigned songs with ease and then went on to pick out other tunes that were in his head.  

While he sat beside Roseanne during the lesson, he played the assigned melodies with embellishments, such as harmonies or syncopation, which was not to her liking.  We plodded through these group lessons until Jory rebelled.  Roseanne had denied his request to learn more current songs.  He was almost 8 and his favorite songs to play were John Williams' themes for Olympic Games and Star Wars, which he learned by himself from listening to the radio.

The following summer, we sent Jory to camp for a month.  This overnight camp was full of new and interesting friends and experiences.  On parents' visiting day, he was anxious to share with us all of his adventures, but we were disappointed that he didn't seem to have missed us.  Most of all, he had made a friend who brought an electronic keyboard to camp.  Jory's friend put the keyboard into demo mode and it played a catchy and somewhat complicated song.  Then, Jory put the keyboard into manual mode and played the entire song from memory.  Along with all the boys in his bunk, we were impressed.

The second summer, Jory's camp counselor and CIT (Counselor in Training) were both teenagers who had progressed through the ranks of campers to staff in previous summers.  They were fun role models for the 14 boys in the bunk, teaching them what were the best selections at meals, how to get candy by going to the nurse's cottage for band aids, and how to sneak out at night to play pranks.  Best of all, they had brought guitars to camp.  It didn't take long for Jory to ask them to let him try playing their guitars.  In his mandatory letter home, Jory asked if we could bring my guitar when we came for parents' visitor day.  By the end of camp, Jory was proficient enough to play chords and accompany himself singing most of the camp songs.

The student guitar from my teenage years’, became Jory's.  I also had some beginning guitar books and a collection of folk songs with notated chords.  We sat together while I showed him how to read the chord notations, where to place his left fingers on the fret board, and to keep his pinky finger on the guitar while playing strums over the sound hole.  With a huge smile on his face, Jory took everything to his room and disappeared.  Of course, he came back out playing the songs that he was hearing on the radio, not my old folk songs.

In fifth grade, the school curriculum offered instrumental music education.  Jory was the first to jump in by selecting the trombone as his instrument of choice.  We were all surprised, as he had always loved the tuba.  

“You make me walk to school and I'd have to carry that huge, heavy tuba back and forth,” he complained.

“You could roll it on our dolly,” I offered.

“Nope,” he insisted.  “It's more than I'm willing to take on.  I'm playing the trombone.”

A family friend provided us with an old trombone that was cluttering their garage.  Jory immediately took the dusty, smelly, drab trombone to the bathroom.  Holding the instrument over the tub, he turned on the shower and began filling the trombone with warm water.  Rapidly, the entire bathroom began to smell overwhelmingly musty.  Terrified that Jory was ruining this instrument that was lovingly entrusted to our care, I questioned his actions while turning on the air-extracting fan.  Despite my objections, he steadfastly proceeded.  When the tub was half full, Jory pulled the trombone apart and submerged its parts.  He turned, wiped his hands dry, and told his brothers that no one was to take a bath or shower until he said so.  That was that!  The trombone soaked overnight and emerged squeaky clean, sweet smelling, and not so dull.  With an old sock over his hand, Jory polished the trombone until it was shiny and beautiful.  He proudly played this trombone from sixth through ninth grades in the Parks Jr, High School and Troy High School bands and orchestras.  

The summer before high school began, Jory was already marching with the Troy High School Band.  It was a great introduction to his new technology magnet school and classmates, as he was on campus everyday marching on the field and exploring the buildings and hallways.  He found it easy to march in step while playing his instrument, and was happy to help others overcome the challenge.  At first, he volunteered to play the trumpet, but when the band director mentioned that they needed a trombone player, he went back to playing his old instrument.  The band became his social group at Troy and he loved playing at football games, traveling to other schools to support the teams, and to band competitions, where everyone wore their red and black uniforms while marching with precision on the field.  

Troy's band won many awards and was selected as a featured band at Disneyland.  It was a very special sun filled day when the band kids piled into a yellow school bus and skipped classes to march down Main Street USA and around the circular park in front of Sleeping Beauty's Castle.  This short concert earned the kids a free day of fun, but for Jory, it was the fulfillment of one of his first childhood dreams.  I was lucky to have been a parent chaperone and to witness his huge grin and stand-tall pride of accomplishment.

The second year of band began with change.  Jory had a pre-malignant melanoma removed from his back and the doctor instructed him to refrain from reaching and stretching.  Trombone playing was definitely out.  He switched to xylophone during marching season, which he learned to play almost intuitively, and he played guitar during concert or orchestra season.  

It was during the summer before his third year of band that Jory decided to join the drum line.  After all, drummers seemed to have the most fun playing complex rhythms and beats.  He had already been accepted to a 6-week study abroad program in Israel and took his drumsticks and my old guitar with him.  He practiced all summer long and was very competent when he tried out for the drum line.  The band director called him over after try outs to compliment him on his drumming, but denied him the position because he had missed the first few days of summer band practice.  Jory was devastated and the joy of being in the school band decreased from that point onward.  The band kids made fun of him for being a drum line loser and a dorky xylophone player.  He stopped hanging around with them and lost all personal interest in percussion and the band.

About that same time, Jory told us that he needed a better guitar.  He had researched it and had decided that he wanted a 12-string Ovation.  We knew nothing about guitars, but we did know that Jory had no concept of money nor the desire to save it.  For years he had received a weekly allowance that he spent frivolously and secretly on candy.  

“This is a good opportunity for you, Jory,” his Dad explained.  “You already have a guitar that you can play, but if you want a new one, you could save up to buy what you want.”

“But that will take forever,” he protested.

“Okay,” I offered, “what if you save half and we pay half?”

“I can do that,” he responded with a grin and determination to reach his goal.  We walked away confidently knowing that that day would never come.

To our surprise, a year later, Jory came to us with the announcement that he was ready to buy his new guitar.  He had saved his birthday and Chanukah money, along with other funds that he had earned fixing computers for friends, and perhaps some of his allowance money, as well.  We were skeptical, but played along with him.  He called several guitar stores in Los Angeles and found one in Santa Monica that had the 12-string Legend Pro Ovation that he wanted, so we set a date on the calendar to take a trip to look at Jory's dream guitar.  

“I know about Ovation’s founder, Charles H. Kaman,” explained Dad as he drove us to the guitar store.  “He's been involved in technology experiments for helicopter aviation.  Along the way, he discovered a synthetic material that was both strong and also enhanced acoustics.”

“Did you know that Josh White, Charlie Byrd, and Glen Campbell all play Ovation guitars?” Jory added.

Sticker shock settled in!  Jory had a wad of folded dollar bills in his pocket.  Certainly, we thought, the guitar he wanted was not more than a couple hundred dollars, but we were wrong.  He wanted a Legend Pro that was significantly over $1,000
and the case was an additional $500.  He sat on a stool at the store with the Ovation in his lap, playing Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin.  Several customers and another salesman wandered over to hear.  It was beautiful!  The guitar was magnificent!  The clarity and depth of sound was incredible!  We didn't even try to talk him into a lesser guitar, we simply swallowed hard and agreed to pay our half plus throw in the cost of the case.  Jory walked out of the store with his head held high, a huge grin on his face, and the guitar of his dreams clutched safely in his fist.

Strumming flowed freely in our house as Jory was glued to his guitar.  After a week, he came to us with a request for guitar lessons.  Piano lessons had not been as successful as we had hoped, so the prospect of shelling out more money for him to not listen to the teacher wasn't encouraging.

"I need to learn scales," he explained.  "I can figure it out by myself after I learn all the scales."

Most kids hate the drudgery of practicing scales, yet our kid wanted to learn them!  We scratched our heads.  I hired a grad student from Cal State Fullerton who was working on his MFA in guitar performance and needed a bit of extra income.  When Michael met Jory for the first lesson, he expected his student to be the stereotypic wannabe rock star teenager.  Michael was surprised to find himself teaching scales that were thirstily absorbed, with capacity for more, to a musical computer geek kid.  The two of them developed a symbiotic relationship where Jory learned scales for the first hour, and Michael learned all the ins and outs of operating his computer for an hour or more after each guitar lesson.  Quite often, Michael stayed for dinner and sometimes it felt like we had an additional hired son.  

Jory was now halfway through his junior year of high school.  He had totally lost interest in band and was absorbed with playing his guitar.  He explained to us that he needed more traditional music theory, which was not offered at Troy High School.  We explored our options and discovered that the school district had a somewhat hush-hush Bridge Program that allowed high school students to concurrently take one class at the community college.  We signed all the forms and enrolled Jory in an evening class at Fullerton College.  

He was the youngest student, loved the class, earning the top grade.  Inspired by Dr. Anthony Mazzaferro, his instructor, Jory continued on at night with college level music theory, ear training, and harmony courses, while he completed the last 3 semesters of high school. With a solid foundation in music theory, Jory's musicianship improved and he also began writing down the melodies and harmonies that played in his head.  

Guitar in his hand, he'd explode from his room, bursting with excitement and enthusiasm.  "Listen to this!" he'd announce, as he grabbed a kitchen chair and began playing his newest composition.  His foot tapped out the meter while his fingers adeptly fretted the notes.  Out emerged the melody, accompanied by harmonies, transitions, and rhythms.  A few days later, he'd debut another fresh composition.  Jory was transitioning from a musician into a composer.

Gamelan photo by Jean Pierre Dalbera

To continue his studies after high school graduation, Jory applied to California Institute of the Arts, as a music composition major.  On our first visit to explore the college, he became mesmerized from the unique percussive tingling of the Indonesian Gamelan, resounding energetically throughout the hallways.  Like a magnet, he was drawn to see this instrument that reverberated when bells and gongs were struck with mallets.  Of course, as soon as he could during his first year at CalArts, he enthusiastically enrolled in Gamelan classes.  CalArts also required that he take classes in keyboards and other symphonic instruments.  Since he already had experience with keyboards, brass, and percussion instruments, he chose to take oboe lessons.  His teacher was a member of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra and we have no idea where he got hold of an oboe.  We never heard him play the oboe or even mention that he was taking lessons until the day of his CalArts graduation.  

Assured by Jory that he was marching at graduation, we were excited to attend the ceremony, but because he had a history of not completing "unimportant" assignments throughout his educational career, I called the administrative office to inquire about requirements for graduation.  I was told that no student with incomplete assignments or classes would be allowed to participate in the graduation ceremony.  Pleased with this assurance, we proudly attended graduation.  It was only after the commencement ceremony that we learned that Jory was still Jory.  He had 3 incomplete classes.  One was in oboe. 

"The LA Phil went on tour and we didn't have time to complete the required lessons," he explained.  "When she gets back, we'll schedule the last three lessons." 

"Great!"  we responded, with a hint of exasperated sarcasm, “Your new Mac computer graduation gift won't appear until after we see your diploma!"

When the oboe instructor returned, Jory again managed to barter a deal with her and completed the course in his usual, non-traditional way.  

Jory consistently remained Jory!

COMMENTS:  

Click on Jorysmother@gmail.com to send comments.

Jory Prum       1993

At the age of four, I began to play piano and read music.  I took lessons until I decided that I would continue on my own.  At ten, I decided to teach myself to play the guitar and mandolin by learning all the chords from a book. When I felt the need to learn scales and technique, I convinced my parents to let me take guitar lessons.  I felt that I had learned all that I could without help from someone more advanced than myself.  Through group lessons taught at school, I learned to play the trombone and various percussion instruments.  My parents have always commented about the constant rhythms that i tapped on the table or the ever-presence of melodies that I sang.

I know that my knowledge of formal and classical music is quite limited, so I would like to study it more in depth.  Along with completing my senior year in high school, I am also enrolled at the community college under the Bridge Program, where I am taking courses in music theory, ear training, and harmony.  I am learning techniques that I can incorporate into some of my writing.  In addition, I have noticed that my favorite film scorers–John Williams, Alan Menken, and Danny Elfman–seem to draw their inspiration from the classic composers.  Therefore, I have been spending time at the public library listening to compact dics by Isaac Albéniz, Mozart, Handel, and Bach.

Jory Prum     January 29, 2009

I am a musician and play many instruments, including acoustic guitar, bass, percussion, trombone, and many others.

Sandy S.

I thoroughly enjoyed your story on “Music Lessons”….Jory was so versatile, I knew he played guitar but didn’t realize he played so many other instruments as well.  It’s great that he had Suzuki lessons as a young child….didn’t know they offered piano. When I was 5 yrs old, my grandmother taught me my lines and spaces and how to play the piano. My parents eventually bought me an upright Hamilton piano for 45.00 and my lessons cost 2.75…can you believe it? My teacher came all the way from Indiana to teach her pupils on the south side of Chicago. She was very strict and only let us play classical music…as soon as she left, I jazzed up Fur Elise.

Anne S.

I now realize what a tremendous challenge it was to raise a genius.

Ralph L.

5 out of 5 stars

Ann L.

I loved the story.  We heard about  Suzuki method back in Belarus. My sister came from Belarus without any American experience and went to the Suzuki conference.  It opened the door  for her to be employed in 1980 in Chicago.  I enjoyed so much Jory’s free spirit!   Reading about him is like getting another drop of his spirit, which I need so much.

Elaine A.
I was mesmerized as I read your blog about Jory and his musical journey through his childhood and teens. He certainly chose the right parents to help him on his journey. It is not easy to have such a special child and with the wrong parents there can be great damage done to a child’s psyche. 

Molly P.
What an amazing musician!! He did March to his own drum, but was not allowed to march with the drum in the band!  They didn't know what they were missing! 

Elaine R.

My son Michael is a H.S. music teacher. He teaches the band geeks, marching band, show band etc. He also plays professionally, writes music charts and gives private lessons. His main instument is trumpet, but he plays many others. I remember when he was a teenager and all he wanted was a 6 string guitar. Everyone said a 4 string is fine but he wanted what he wanted. He eventually got his 6 string.  School was touchy sometimes, especially Spanish. I totally get Jory's music story!

Dee N.

Jory was still Jory sums it up. You grew a genius, allowing him to be Jory.  I think you had no choice. What a joy.

Daniel S.

thank you Leslye! 

Rita B.

Interesting! How do you remember all the details?

You should write books... I admire your writing abilities and enjoy your stories.

Freea S.

That's our Jory! He had his own pioneering way of doing everything and it always worked! Thanks for these shares. So greatly appreciated. 

Sam K.

Wonder if the path might have been different had he joined the drum line? I’m thinking it might have been a detour, but the journey would have continued…  As always, I’m smiling after reading about the evolution of Jory. 

Essie L.

My younger sister, Lisa, committed suicide this year, after a lifelong battle with manic depressive illness.  She finally freed herself from a life of emotional pain. It’s what she’d wanted to do for a long time.  As I read your stories of Jory I thought how lucky you are to have such wonderful memories and records of a life so well lived; of a person who brought such joy to you and others. 

© Leslye J. Prum   2017    All Rights Reserved.