Aaron Copland was a superstar among American composers.  I was introduced to his music by the New York Philharmonic in the CBS television broadcasts of Leonard Bernstein’s Young People’s concerts in the 1950s and 1960s.  By the time I left High school to go to college in Rochester, I had heard lots of his music in Philadelphia Orchestra concerts and recordings.  I especially liked “Appalachian Spring.”

The first time I actually met Copland live was around 1965 when I was a student at the Eastman School. He was in town for a Rochester Philharmonic concert and he spoke at a convocation for the students in the old Eastman student lounge just off the main hall.  The room was packed full for the occasion.  

First he commented on how young the students seemed to him, and then he talked about his music.  When he was asked why he composed, he responded simply that his motivation was immortality; he wanted to leave something of himself behind when his life was over. The composition department at the Eastman School at that time was breaking away from the Neo-Romanticism of the Howard Hanson years and leaning in the direction of abstract modernism.  Copland’s tonal masterpieces were largely viewed by the composition students as passé, so the philosophical exchanges between Copland and the students became somewhat pointed in spite of Copland’s enormous and impressive output. Copland not only stood his ground in the verbal exchanges, but he overwhelmed the students with his sharp and biting wit.  Here was a man at the top of his intellectual game.

The next time I saw Aaron Copland live was in May 1974 when he came to conduct the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra.   Here is the program:

Copland liked short dry sounds from the orchestra’s percussion section, and his most memorable expression to the bass drum was . . . “KILL THAT DRUM,”  meaning that he didn’t want to hear any after-ring from the drum heads.   He had a  clear baton technique and, of course, he had the respect of everyone in the orchestra in recognition of his high position in the music world.

In the 1980s Copland returned several times to the Rochester Philharmonic. On one visit he conducted “A Lincoln Portrait”, and near the end of his life he conducted his “Symphony No. 2″ and his intellectually challenging “Inscape.”  During that series of concerts, Copland was already well along in the loss of his once brilliant mental capacity.  Ruth and I volunteered to serve as Copland’s hosts and escorts in Rochester, and we not only drove him back and forth to his local accommodations, but we also took him to dinner at local restaurants.  Imagine; just the two of us and Aaron Copland . . . AARON COPLAND!  

In the course of our dinner conversations we became sadly (but always sympathetically) aware of his declining mental condition.  He would tell us a story about a significant event in his past, and after a few minutes, when his story was near its end, he would rewind and begin the same story all over again word-for-word.  This kind of communication would go on and on.  However, back at the evening orchestra rehearsals, he would step onto the podium and like magic, he would become transformed, speaking with perfect clarity about the musical issues at hand in his commentary to the orchestra.  

Both of the performances were memorable, especially in the “Symphony No. 2″ which had an incredible intensity.  The unusually large audiences responded with unrestrained enthusiasm in recognition of the great composer and his music.