Board of Trustees, Chairman Bruce Kovner, President Joseph Polisi,
President Designate Damian Woetzel, Provost and Dean Ara
Guzelimian, faculty, staff, students, families, graduating class of 2018: It is
indeed a distinguished pleasure to address you on the day of your
graduation and on the commencement of your professional lives.
Well, today you're rightly commended for having successfully achieved your
intentions to join the elite body of alumni from the world's most celebrated
conservatory. And beyond the justly deserved kudos and salutations, it is a
glorious moment in this day because your community of family, friends, colleagues,
and mentors are present and gathered around you right now
to recognize and enjoy this life- defining hallmark. Now I want y'all to
realize that their feeling is as important as the conferral itself,
because they are your biggest investors and supporters, and they're here to enjoy
the dividends of your mutual labor. So please, today, at your dinner, be kind to
your people. [laughter]
It's very important. The feeling in this room is warm with the glow of
accomplishment, full with the manifestation of mentorship, settled with
the satisfaction of something summarized, sanguine with the sense of 'see you later,'
pregnant with the pride of family, and electric with the bristling energy in
omnipotent exuberance of youthful potential. And though that potential is
in itself emotionally potent, it is--in fact--as of yet untested, unburnished, and
unrealized. What may be will soon be given a much more strenuous workout by
the impassiveness of life and by the vicissitudes of time. Before we pass on
from this momentary pause and the handling of the official business of
graduating to listen to a speech that will hopefully be brief, but not too
short to be remembered only for its brevity. [laughter]
You got to find that balance. [laughter]
There is another feeling, there's another feeling in this room that distinguishes
it from the many commencements that populate this season all over our nation.
It is the intelligence, humor, dedication, hunger, anticipation, expectation, and
spirituality of the uncontainable, uncontrollable, unruly, untamable, and
truly unfathomable collective creativity this sits right here before us.
There is a creative acuity all over here that I can feel it
emanating an energy that is as ancient as it is futuristic. You represent
nations, generations, races, genders, genres, persuasions, and disciplines who have
studied, practiced, rehearsed, and performed together a virtual history of
human feeling, wisdom, and aspiration in this year alone with over 750
performances of astonishing complexion, multiplicity, and complexity of meaning.
I looked at the list last night, [gentle laughter] and I was going to mention some of them but it was
so much I said, 'why insult anything by mentioning anything.' It's truly astonishing
and unbelievable. And although our diversity of a sort is deserving of
comment we also--and more importantly-- sit in communion today with a much larger
common purpose. We are entrusted and given the tools, the insights, and the
mandate to lift the human spirit, to illuminate forgotten and obfuscated
fundamentals, to challenge our intellect, to expand the capacity of our hearts, to
stretch the boundaries of our imagination, to nourish our beleaguered
souls, to embody the possible and ultimately, to raise the horizon of human
aspirations. We're challenged to pursue absolute excellence under the pressure
of public scrutiny, as we dance with the devilishly difficult technical,
emotional, psychological, and spiritual issues that plague all human life across
all times. Hm. That's a tall order, and that's why the sacrifice, the attention to
detail, and the courage required to pursue these disciplines will not
diminish over time. You think experience makes it easier? It makes it harder.
Graduates, you're the person who was the reluctant kid called to play sing or
dance for guests after dinner. [laughter and applause]
You're the one who played for the school board. You're the one who were called
upon, 14 or 15, to make the presentation and who the kids who didn't really like
what you were doing but knew it was something important would say, "Yhey're
nerds, but check this out. This is really good." [laughter]
Now you've become the one who is called to perform for the sick and the shut-in,
to raise the spirits of lonely elders, to make friends laugh when they are
struggling, to wake benumbed souls by acting a new feeling into existence, to
sing when the national spirit is shaken, to bring joy and merriment to
festivities, to enrich religious services, to fulfill ceremonial roles as our great
trumpeters did today on B-flat trumpets too-- I don't know where they are but we got
to give them a little something. B-flat trumpets! [applause]
I'm telling you, when I looked at 'em I went [blowing with lips moving]
That's what we do when those chops hurt. [laughter]
Finally, you're called upon to minister substance to the world's soul in a time
of decay and capitulation to the greatest of all human enemies: myopia.
Hm. Yes.
Let me tell you--should you choose it to be, your art can be the vaccine for the
types of self-involved hysterias that have so often stained human history, and
because you are the memory, the conscience, the now, and the dream of the
future, you are the interpreters of value from the vast human history that is
bequeathed to us all and sits right here in front of us and all around us as an
omnipresent elephant in the room, saying and asking: "What you gonna do? What you
gonna do? What you gonna do when they come for you?" [laughter]
And they're gonna come for you.
You will determine a portion of the dialogue about the most important
questions that plague us all. Who are we? What do we believe? And how do we
sacrifice to act on what we believe when the alternative is just so much more
lucrative. Being an artist is an anointing of sorts, a gift of shamanistic
ability to look into the unknown and the unseen in order to create order from
chaos and to make dreams physical. With this skill that was even said to make
the gods jealous in antiquity, comes the responsibility to use it for substantive
purposes. You possess the ability to heal, but there will always be the more
lucrative choice of prostituting that which has been given. The pressures of
cheap populism that can make you a star. Resist this pressure not for the
morality of it, but just for the fun of it. [laughter]
For the fun of being locked in a relentless battle with two very worthy
opponents: cynicism from within and the general apathy that besets the bored.
Cynicism and apathy are your greatest foes, and they must be kept at bay at all
costs. Because as they rise, you and your
artistry fall. Regardless of your station, we never know what will happen. Remember
to be kind in the execution of your duties. If you choose, again and again, to
be kind to people and into their lives with a light to enlighten where you
could exploit, to lighten where you could load, to elevate where you could enslave,
to nourish where you could negate--people never forget kindness. As performers,
you have opportunity to be placed on a pedestal you don't deserve. Never look
down on people whose lives are lifted by the talents and skills that are only
partially your own making. Yes, they are your greatest skills as a musician, as a
singer, actor, as a dancer; however, the people are your greatest allies and
assets. They are the body that you serve, from which you come, and whose spirit
you are ordained to educate, entertain, and enrich. Stay with the people. It doesn't
mean follow the people, or get the people what they want. It means be with them and
always strive to understand and listen for what people need. Human beings are
the greatest technology you will ever encounter. And an act of kindness and
understanding lasts forever in the memory of the recipient. When I was 19
years old, I had the opportunity to play with the greatest rhythm section that has ever
in the history of our modern music: Ron Carter
Tony Williams, and Herbie Hancock. There's no way in the world I belonged on the
bandstand with them. Matter of fact, I had no idea what they were playing. [laughter]
We had one day of rehearsal. I was so unprepared--it was a style of
music I'd never heard, and in jazz, we play on cycles. These were harmonic
structures I didn't even know existed that they were playing on. And when they
started playing, they played them three and four times at once. It's like going
to the deepest region of a country you never heard of and being thrown into a
debate with learned professors in that language. [laughter]
So I made sure I had a really nice suit. [laughter]
I said, "Man, I'm gonna sound so bad when I get up there." I get---
nervousness is not really to word to say, it was worse than nervousness, because
you're nervous when you think you may have a chance of doing good.
[laughter]
And we--we came up to the Hollywood Bowl. It was packed with people, and the bowl
stretches out and I looked at those people, I thought, "Oh my god, maybe I could
stand in the back of the band or something." And there's only that
unbelievable rhythm section and me in the front of it. Well you know, we get
closer to the gig, and I'm saying, "Man, maybe I could just quit." We're standing
backstage before we go on. Ron Carter walks over to me, puts his arms around me.
He says, "Hey man, if anything goes wrong, listen to me. I have got you, and I know
where we are." And he hugged me and we went on the
bandstand. And when I look at him today, I'll get full thinking about it. Because it
was so soulful, it was so full of feeling. He didn't have to do that. I had known
him for one day. He gave me so much love and feeling. An act of kindness lasts
forever. When I have a chance to greet students, people, I go back to that
feeling. "Hey man, we with this. You're gonna be all right. Don't worry about this.
I know you're nervous. Let's handle this."
I'm gonna conclude by recognizing the greatness of Joe Polisi. Now, I'm deeply
honored. One of the greatest honors in my life of rewards is to be asked by him to
speak at his last commencement. Nothing means more to me than people. He sent me
a letter, which he's never done, and he called me twice to say "Don't talk about
me." [laughter and applause]
And that's why I have to do it. [laughter]
I did promise him that it would not be long,
but we didn't define what long was. [laughter]
And I really can't help it because it feels so
good to be able to say things about someone exceptional in public and with
the same unreserved passion that one normally reserves for negative comments.
[laughter]
I remember thinking when Joe was first appointed, "Man, he's kind of young for
that job." I've watched with such deep, deep respect and admiration at his nimble
and skillful guidance of our institution through these years. He's followed, as
Harriet Tubman did, the North Star. And it leads us towards a larger world, a more
expansive experience and towards a freedom we will experience when everyone
is free to be.
Joe means so much in the history and life of this institution.
Damian and I have talked--we've been friends for many years--and we say we're
going to do everything we can do to burnish his legacy and to show him the
respect that his achievement deserves as we pass into time. We're filled with love
and respect for this man and rightly so. He is a man of integrity, depth, wisdom,
judgment. I don't know about bassoon. [laughter]
Trumpet players--bassoons. [laughter]
But he will not be gone. When you see him, hug him.
You are a student as you are daughter and a son, and you will have the opportunity to
teach students as you will be a father or a mother. Certainly you sit here today
seeing things you would like to improve and changes you would like to enact.
I hope you take the example of Joe Polisi to heart when the challenges of creating
change against the pressures of time overwhelm you. He was up for the fight,
and he left us much, much better than he found us, and that is the definition of
soul. When you walk out of a room and it feels better than when you walked in, you're
soulful. He's encouraged us to make the world a smaller place with our
participation as artists citizens. Let's honor his work by doing just that.
Welcome to the world, Class of 2018. You will be tested as never before. You will fail
to win auditions. You'll suffer physical injuries. You will not get good roles. You
will mess up in important concerts. You will miss the high note. Forget your
script. Be late for a defining rehearsal. Get terrible reviews. Have terrible
bosses--even worse conductors. [laughter]
You will watch colleagues enjoy more success.
You will have personal challenges you can't possibly fathom right now. But remember,
in your darkest times, I want you to look around and take the time from yourself
to return to the collective feeling in this moment and think about your
neighbors here assembled with you. Recall the power of all that is seated around
you and to all sides of you. And I want you in those darkest moments to tap into
the intelligence, humor, dedication, hunger, anticipation, expectation, and
spirituality of the uncontainable, uncontrollable, unruly, untamable, and truly
unfathomable collective creativity of your class that represents nations,
generations, races, genders, genres, persuasions, and disciplines who have
studied practiced, rehearsed, and performed a virtual history of human
feeling, wisdom, and aspiration with millions of performances of astonishing
diversity. And well if you consider what you all have done collectively since you
were born, since you started performing, it may be in the tens of millions.
And collectively is really the only way you can see as much as you can see and be as
much as you can be and truly be free to remake our world. Trust me, we desperately
need you out here right now. Thank you.
[applause]