<html>
<head>
<meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1">
</head>
<body bgcolor="#FFFFFF" text="#000000">
<br>
Dear smt-talk Colleagues,<br>
<br>
I'm writing to mourn the sudden passing of my friend and colleague
Bruce Campbell, and to honor his memory. Bruce and I met as very
young members of the theory faculty of the Eastman School of Music
in the late 1970's--he working on his Yale dissertation on
Beethoven's Op. 59 Quartets, I working on my Eastman dissertation on
Wagner's <i>Siegfried. </i>Our offices were across the hall from
one another on the seventh floor of the Annex Building at Eastman.
As we got to know each other better, we discovered that we had much
in common--not the least of which was that we shared the same
birthday. Or, actually, the same birth night: Bruce was born just
before midnight on the night of October 8-9, 1948, I just after
midnight; he in Philadelphia, I in Odessa, Texas. Despite the fact
that we grew up in utterly different cultures, and had entirely
different undergraduate and graduate educational experiences, we
ended up at more or less the same place: keyboard/organist trench
musicians, and budding music theorists (in the years when it was
just becoming possible to be a budding music theorist), both with a
focus on canonic tonal music, and both teaching at Eastman.<br>
<br>
For two or three years Bruce taught the advanced freshman theory
section at ESM, and I the advanced sophomore section. Our practice
then was to skim off the top dozen or so students who performed best
on the entrance theory exam, and put them in a special section, with
its own curriculum, for their two years of basic theory. With these
gifted students we were given a wide berth with regard to what we
taught--in essence, we could teach whatever we wanted to teach, so
long as we more or less covered the basics of tonal harmony, form,
and ear training. And so I would inherit as sophomores the
advanced students whom Bruce had taught as freshmen. I was always
impressed by the preparation they had received from him. Clearly he
had led them in the direction of being quick and insightful
musicians, with excellent writing and aural skills, and with an
appreciation and indeed love of the musical, and music-theoretical,
discipline that they learned in his course. By the time they
entered their sophomore year, they were ready to roll: they knew
repertoire, they knew many of the right questions to ask, and they
had an interest in how good compositions were put together. I was,
I must confess, a bit intimidated by what I knew their experience in
the preceding year to have been: I couldn't, or didn't, hand out
musical examples with beautiful calligraphy, or spend countless
hours in the middle of the night preparing cassette tapes (that was
the advanced music technology of the day) of just the right examples
with just the right performances for every class, or do any of a
number of other things that Bruce lovingly did for his students.
But I did what I could, and it was a pleasure to work with these
students, and to see how their musical careers have developed over
the past three decades. With Bruce they got a head start. It is
not surprising, but certainly inspiring, to learn from many of his
students since then, over his 25 years at Michigan State, that he
continued the same superb teaching for the rest of his days.<br>
<br>
Those of us who knew Bruce well know that he was no fan of
institutional, academic music theory, as it has developed since the
1970's; he wrestled bravely with it for his entire professional
life. Indeed, though he was perfectly competent in <i>musica
theorica, </i>his interests and strengths lay in <i>musica
practica, </i>where he used his formidable gifts to make a
cherished contribution to his students and to his musical
community. He valued balance in his life, and he complemented his
university teaching with on-the-ground music making in East Lansing
and beyond--composition and arranging; many years of distinguished
work as an organist/choirmaster; and (I now learn), as a bagpiper,
lover of all things Scottish, and participant in the Iona Community
in Scotland. <br>
<br>
He also balanced his musical life with his family life, and it was a
pleasure for me to see, if only at a distance, his devotion to his
family: to Sulin (whose Eastman thesis on the slow introduction in
early Beethoven was the first master's thesis I ever advised), and
to his children, of whom I only met the eldest, but all of whom, I
suspect, are energetic contributors to their community.<br>
<br>
A person and musician with many gifts, used faithfully and
consistently, doing much good, day by day, over many years: who
could ask for anything more? May he rest in peace.<br>
<br>
Pat McCreless<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
<br>
</body>
</html>