The Sound of Glass
Ann Stuart and Jonathan Stuart-Moore, Glass Musicians
Articles
"Four Hands, Same Genes"
The following article appeared in the Summer 1998 issue of Glass Music World.
If, when Jonathan was very young, I had known that he and I would be journeying to Boston for a Glass Music International festival, or giving concerts here in North Carolina, or appearing together for one minute of shared glory on PBS, I would have taken more photographs along the way. These photos would have shown my five-year-old sitting cross-legged on the table where the glasses were arrayed at Christmastime, cherubic in his blue snowflake sweater, his face lit with pleasure as he learned how to awaken the sound. And they would have captured the two of us when we performed for his first grade class, probably our first performance together. At least I have this event recorded in my diary: I write that he played the harmony for "Silent Night" (no doubt the tonic and the dominant at the correct moment!) and the tune for "Jingle Bells" and "Twinkle Twinkle." And so it started. Or perhaps it started much earlier than I realize because one photo I do have is of me at my mother's house, standing in her kitchen with her crystal arrayed before me taped to the kitchen counter, and Jonathan, not yet a year old, in his backpack, peering over his mother's shoulder in an attempt to comprehend this new and intriguing sound.
Is it not every parent's dream to have their kid share their hobby? I don't know--I am only one parent, and a relatively inexperienced one at that, with only one kid. But what a joy it has been for this mom to have a musical and willing kid! Our public performing together beyond the appearances in the classroom started as a result of a fifth grade classroom performance (this time complete with oscilloscope, part of a class unit on hearing). Luck pushed us forward. Jonathan's teacher happened to be married to the director of Durham's Museum of Life and Science, which happened to be having an exhibit that summer called "What Makes Music?" and so the teacher of course went home and said to the director, "What Could Be More Appropriate?" and there it was: we were invited to give a concert in conjunction with the exhibit. For the program I chose selections from "The Sound of Music" and also from Jonathan's North Carolina Boys Choir repertoire, which allowed him to play by ear his high soprano descants, already committed to memory. Before the event I rushed to construct a second array of glasses so that we could each have our own set.
This first major appearance in many ways set our style. Music from Broadway and from NC Boys Choir repertoire has continued to be our specialty. The Boys Choir music is particularly suited to two sets of glasses: the four-part vocal score converts readily to four hands on glasses, and the high descants characteristic of boys choir music sound especially magical in glass. In the scramble to get the glasses ready for the "What Makes Music?" performance, I used aluminum tape rather than a design that would allow the glasses to be removed for washing but take longer to execute; the silver of the tape, it turns out, provides the perfect background for the colors in the water (I added food coloring to Cs, E, and Gs early on in to help Jonathan keep track of the notes when he was younger) so we keep this design.
"What Makes Music" occurred when Jonathan was eleven. So did our first really big concert, about 45 minutes of Christmas music at a retirement community here in Chapel Hill. The hobby began to snowball: "bad" notes had to be replaced, requiring trips to every crystal-containing shop in central North Carolina; special boxes had to be designed and constructed to move the glasses; and solid, transportable tables had to be purchased to hold them. At this concert we learned not to pack one's glasses in bubble wrap: the oil on the plastic transfers to the glasses! Preconcert, instead of mellowing out, we were occupied in frantically diagnosing the problem, then wiping every one of the 68 rims with alcohol. As our glasses involvement accelerated, we purchased a dolly for moving the tables and boxes, an electronic tuner, and, finally, time in a recording studio to record Christmas carols. We have one side of an audio tape recorded but are not really happy with the scratchy sound. Perhaps this Fall will bring us some free moments to try again in a new location: a church with good acoustics rather than a studio.
One night, when Jonathan was twelve, he became possessed by computer programming and graphics. Or at least the instantaneous, "one night" part is how it seemed to his mom. He, on the other hand, will point out that all it took was discovering Macs, which could be programmed, in contrast to "foul" PCs, to uncover the real Jonathan. The end result for the glasses was twofold: he is now layout editor for GMW and he is in the process of making a videotape on glass music including segments rendered on the computer to explain the hobby to the uninitiated.
It was when Jonathan was eleven that I was led to GMI by Gerhard Finkenbiener, who so generously spent hours with me when I invited myself to his studio. In turn I had been led to Gerhard by the article on Cecelia Brauer in Opera News, the periodical now edited by F. Paul Driscoll. F. Paul was the director who chose 10-year-old Jonathan to play Oliver in a performance of the musical "Oliver!" on Cape Cod. That performance was assistant-conducted by Eric Whitacre, a young composer who has stayed in touch and this summer offered to write a composition for us for glasses. And thus does a scientist, led by her son, touch and contribute with delight to the world of music. When Jonathan leaves home for college and his independent life, he will have paradoxically launched his mother, for I will have a hobby made serious by his interest, I will have repertoire that I can play with other musicians, and I will have GMI friends who share an unusual and deeply rewarding pursuit.