PAS機関紙翻訳シリーズ｜追悼 ミッチェル・ピーターズ

原文

In Memoriam
Mitchell Peters (1935-2017)

by Aaron Smith

***

If you are reading this, most likely you have played or at least heard Yellow After the Rain. While not everyone may know the composer, it is probably the best-known work of Mitchell Peters. Even today, forty-six years after its publication, Yellow After the Rain remains the solo most students and teachers view as the threshold to cross from two-mallet to four-mallet playing; mastering it means you have arrived.

Born in Red Wing, Minnesota, Mitchell Peters began his percussion studies in high school and went on to attend the Eastman School of Music where he studied with William Street, earning his Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees as well as the Performer’s Certificate.
He was a member of the famed Marimba Masters from their first performance in 1954 until he completed his studies in 1958. After graduation, Peters was a member of the 7th U.S. Army Symphony, stationed in Stuttgart, Germany.
In 1960, Mr. Peters joined the Dallas Symphony Orchestra as principal percussionist.
As the DSO was a part-time ensemble, Peters worked as a freelance musician and began teaching privately. He worked as a percussionist and drumset player, in all manner of settings from the Dallas Summer Musicals to nightclubs and shows. One memorable engagement was at a rodeo: Peters was playing drumset in a band backing a singer who came in from Los Angeles. During the band’s rehearsal in the middle of the arena, some of the livestock where let out and ran around the stage, causing the musicians to fear for their safety.

In 1969, Peters won the audition for the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He became co-principal percussionist in 1973 and retired as principal timpanist in 2006. During his tenure at the LAPO he performed under music directors Zubin Mehta, Carlo Maria Giulini, André Previn and Esa-Pekka Salonen, as well as with many of the world’s leading musicians, including John Adams, Leonard Bernstein, Pierre Boulez, Kurt Sanderling, Michael Tilson-Thomas and John Williams. Mr. Peters made numerous recordings both with the DSO and LAPO, as well as for the soundtracks of movies and television shows.
In Los Angeles, Peters was an active educator, teaching first at California State University, Los Angeles, then later the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). He also was on the faculty for the Los Angeles Philharmonic Institute, and the Music Academy of the West in Santa Barbara. He retired from teaching in 2012. His former students have gone on to successful careers in orchestras, as freelance musicians, and teachers.
Peters began composing in the 1960s to satisfy the needs of his students, and soon after started a publishing company for percussion works. He wrote solos, ensemble music, and etude and method books. The solos and etudes have become staples of juries, recitals, festivals and auditions. He once remarked, “No one goes into publishing music to make money.” The successful titles in his catalog allowed him to keep many other solos, including some by other composers, in print.

In 1992, Dave Black of Alfred Publishing approached Peters with the idea of co-authoring a comprehensive book on cymbals, as applied to both orchestral and drumset playing. As a joke, Mitch came up with the title, Cymbals: A Crash Course, which soon stuck.
This was the beginning of a fruitful relationship with Alfred and Black which led first to Fundamental Method for Timpani, followed by Fundamental Method for Mallets, vols. 1 & 2, as well as two supplemental books of solos. Black remembers when he asked Peters to write the timpani book, he didn’t hesitate at all; the idea had long been in the back of his mind, but he had never had the opportunity to write a book of this scope.
Peters’ etude and method books have become required parts of curricula around the world. All of his compositions are both musical and practical, attacking technical problems in a logical way. Not only are they musically satisfying, they feel good, too. Even the books which work primarily on technique, like Developing Dexterity and Odd Meter Calisthenics, remain engaging via a logical progression and challenging and varied material. Mr. Peters admitted that he wrote his two drumset books in part to persuade students who might not otherwise practice to work on different combinations of accents and stickings.
Mr. Peters playing was both musical and functional; he was always aware of his role relative to the rest of the orchestra. While he often talked about musicality, he rarely spoke of artistry, and I viewed much of what he did as craftsmanship.
Growing up in Red Wing he worked in Peters’ Palace of Sweets, the family candy shop and soda fountain. He and his family went to work every day making candy, ice cream and other confections. The work was a process, with attention to detail very important. This attitude was reflected in his preparation, compositions and teaching. No detail was too small to be considered, defined and polished. As a result he played every note with clear intention.
In lessons and ensemble rehearsals he was meticulous, sometimes isolating the smallest group of notes, making us repeat things until we understood how they should be played. He had high expectations, but he was always patient and kind. Once I asked him what it was like to hear students make the same mistakes year after year in excerpts and etudes. He said, “That’s a good question,” then chuckled and trailed off without saying anything more. He would regularly walk around the studio while I was playing, filing or organizing music or instruments, and I’d be sure he wasn’t paying close attention; then when I’d finish, he would walk over to the music stand and point out all the spots where I'd made mistakes or at least where I could play better. The highest praise one could expect was, “It sounds like you worked on that,” and you knew you were in trouble when he said, “I’d like to hear this again next week. What else do you have?” Years later I realized not only had Mr. Peters taught me how to play, he had modeled how to teach.
Mr. Peters was incredibly modest and reluctant to be in the spotlight. He went about his work in a matter-of-fact way. In a master class a student asked him how he played his soft snare drum rolls. He seemed baffled by the question, then said, “Like this,” and proceeded to play the most delicate, smooth roll I’d ever heard. When he finished we all just sat there, not knowing what to say. It was several years before I realized his significance in the percussion world; I just assumed it was normal for your teacher to write books and solos. Then when I was on tour in Mexico with a school ensemble, the percussionists who were hosting us at the conservatory were star struck. They couldn't believe we all studied with Mitchell Peters. A few years later I spent an afternoon with him at a NAMM show and he seemed genuinely embarrassed every time someone recognized him.
Mitch Peters was deeply dedicated to his teaching and playing, but not one to give unsolicited advice. When I was about to complete my degree, I confided I was nervous about my future. He told me to never stop being a student. “The people I went to school with who thought they were done learning when they graduated aren’t playing music anymore,” he said. A few years later as Kevin Shah was about to graduate and leave for Juilliard, he asked for last-minute advice. Peters replied, pointing to his ears then his mouth,
“Keep these open, and keep this closed.”
Mitchell Peters was much-loved and admired by his students and peers. He impressed thousands who knew him only by sight and sound over a career which spanned more than fifty years. His compositions have transformed the nature of percussion education. He was a gentleman and a gentle man. He will be sorely missed.