Oakley Yale and El Camino
After being fired as a student by Tito I wandered about aimlessly for a while. I had graduated – barely – from Torrance High School and enrolled at El Camino Jr. College. When I had my mandatory interview with my counselor, she said, “We have to take you, but we don’t have to keep you.” My high school grade point average was abysmal. She didn’t think I had much of a future in higher education. I started Jr. College under academic probation. Without a 2.0 (C) average the first semester, I would be gone.
I hated high school. I started each year with a new enthusiasm, but I soon became bored – much more interested in practicing accordion. With the exception of band and choir, there were no music courses. At El Camino, I could finally enroll in music courses. But my real motivation for higher education was to stay out of the Army. The draft was alive and well in 1963 when I graduated from high school. The only hope of avoiding going to Viet Nam and carrying a rifle was a 1SC draft classification which required staying in school.
I brought my accordion to the party, but no one asked me to play
I thrived in the new environment. I was surrounded by a new group of people and the condemnation of high school was gone. With an exceptionally low cost (something like $5.00 per semester for an administrative cost) there was quite a wide mix of students at the junior college. Some of my best friends were women returning to school after being over the initial amusement of marriage. There was also a vast difference in the interrelationship between faculty and students. At Torrance High School, with several exceptions, the faculty stayed at arms length from the students. If there was a genuine care for the intellectual progress, it was often buried behind closed doors. In other cases, there seemed to be a fear of loosing some kind of control. In any event, the general atmosphere at THS was very calm.
At El Camino, my music world quickly began to expand. I only returned to my original counselor one time – turning in a high B average after my first semester. She was surprised, but it was the last time I saw her. The members of the music faculty became my mentors.
I remember each one of them with amazing clarity, though it has been nearly 45 years. Dr. Robert Haag taught music theory, history, and was an accomplished pianist. At that time he was preparing to perform the 32 Beethoven Sonatas – so we listened to him perform each one of them during class, while he discussed the form and theory. Dr. Haag and his wife also had a group of season tickets to the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and were always hauling students to the Los Angeles Music Center. Through Dr. Haag, I started to understand repertoire. Instead of studying a single sonata (as I might have done had I been studying piano), I learned to appreciate the broader scope of a composer’s work; the sequence and how it all fit together. I also learned how it could reflect the social and political atmosphere. Dr. Haag also introduced me to a different genre of professional musicians – an individual with a vast repertoire. My world was primarily directed toward preparing for a competition or series of competitions with a very limited repertoire. This might have lead to a higher level of technical perfection in performance, especially in the younger years; and some pedagogues think this is important. But I started to realize there was a balance, and I needed accept the responsibility of deciding where to place myself in that balance.
June Lusk Nelson taught most of the piano classes and was a student of Lillian Stuber at USC. Her specialty was impressionism and she regularly performed at El Camino. She had a superb technical proficiency and was a master at nuance and tonal control. I enrolled in Piano 1B (second semester elementary piano) but ended up in the Advanced piano class the next semester. I quickly discovered that despite the fact that the accordion uses a piano keyboard and a similar written notation, there is very limited carryover between the two instruments. Ultimately, a true mastery of accordion technique is most likely a detriment to playing the piano. Starting at El Camino, I continued to study piano off and on for many years and was fortunate to work with some of this country’s great pedagogues. Though I possessed amazing finger dexterity, there were some handicaps I was never able to overcome, most noticeably stiffness in both wrists. However, studying piano gave me a greater understanding of the accordion – not in terms of actual technique, but in how to approach technique. There were many concepts I could apply to accordion, and for me, the best way was often to quantify and qualify. It’s just the way my mind works. June Nelson would have argued against the quantify and qualify concept – whereas Dr. Haag would have supported it. However, many of her students realized she was the master of what she would have argued against – and the result was a stunning pianist.
Dr. Gordon Orme taught the voice classes. It was a requirement for all music students – even for those like me with a less than modest vocal gift. The voice didn’t matter (unless that was your instrument) – but knowing basic vocal technique, phrasing, and repertoire did. In all the music courses I ever took, it was here I was most uncomfortable. I didn’t want to listen to myself and also felt uncomfortable having others forced to listen in the classroom. Thank goodness I was only required to complete one semester of voice.
Jane Skinner Hardester conducted the El Camino College Chorale and taught conducting. I eventually sang with the Chorale and served as the instrumental soloist – provided a break for the singers in the concert program. Jeannie Weaver Fuller was one of the librarians, but was also an outstanding composer.
Though the school did not officially ‘recognize’ the accordion (whatever that means) I performed on numerous programs and recitals at El Camino. My musical world continued to expand. I also expanded my realization of what repertoire I could adapt to the accordion. I gained a better appreciation for what wouldn’t work, and saw possibilities for things that would.
El Camino was located on Crenshaw Blvd, several miles north of my parents’ home in Torrance. Oakley and Melba Yale and their family lived a bit further up Crenshaw, within the city limits of Los Angeles. It was also the home of the Yale Accordion Academy.
The Yale’s were a musical family. Though they all played accordion, piano, or both, they were well versed in orchestral and piano repertoire with a fluency that was unique for the accordion schools in the Los Angeles area. This aligned quite well and complimented my expanding knowledge of repertoire. I especially enjoyed Oakley Jr. and Paul.
The Yale Accordion Academy also was the home of the Yale Accordion Orchestra. I don’t remember exactly how it all came about, but I was soon taking lessons from Oakley and playing in the ensemble. Oakley asked my parents what we had been paying Tito for lessons as it would be unethical for him to accept less. Oakley was familiar with the bassetti system. He personally had two Hohner Mornio bassettis – both of which were as large as the original Giulietti. I once asked Oakley why he selected the Morinos as they seemed much less refined than the Hohner Golas. He replied that he liked the narrower black keys on right hand keyboard – you could get your fingers between them; and also that the instrument had a brighter sound.
The music studio was in a separate building behind the house, but the family’s pride and joy, a Steinway B, sat well protected in the living room.
Lessons with Oakley were interesting. He always emphasized the need to “raise the fingers high”, just like it said in the front of the Hanon Exercises. Though there might be some value in building digital strength for piano technique, I never really understood how this would help on the accordion. The only result I could see was a lot of unnecessary motion and a ‘noisy’ hand.
Tito sat back and let his students be the star. With Oakley, he was the star, but it was cool because you were studying with him. Later, Galla-Rini was a star, but it was totally cool if you were one also. And finally, with Don Balestrieri, the whole star thing was really pretty insipid.
In addition to doing most of the conducting, Oakley performed with the orchestra. He postured himself as a renaissance musician, often performing long-lost musical feats. One of these was improvisation; compositions based on a series of notes requested from the audience. He also played solo transcriptions of things people said were impossible, like Mussorgsky’s Night on Bald Mountain, which was the tour de force for the concert accordion orchestra that claimed virtuosic status.
Oakley’s wife, Melba, did her best to hold her own; generally showing more restraint than Oakley. All of the progeny were extremely talented and accomplished musicians. And they were all fun. Oakley also introduced me to some urban legend that was beyond the scope of the average accordion school. One such story was from his experience in music school. Students would tell each other they had no time to practice and were achieving astonishing music fetes based on pure talent, when in fact they were all practicing their rear-ends off. (Sorry, it probably lost something in the translation.)
I have never been a big fan of accordion bands; always being more into solo performance. My experience with the Yale Accordion Orchestra didn’t change that sentiment. The group rehearsed one night each week. The group also had several unique things. One was the use of two Hohner Transachords, a one-note-at-a-time electronic instrument housed in an accordion shell with fake bellows section that pivoted at the bottom to control the volume. The Yale’s used these to reinforce the brass parts. I would compare the sound to an electronic locomotive diesel air horn that played impeccably on pitch but with absolutely no vibrato or other articulation other than overall volume. And they were loud! Another was a standard Hohner Clavinet that was used on an arrangement of Debussy’s First Arabesque. And finally, they had the largest bass accordion I think I have ever seen – a Hohner played by Darryl, the Yale’s youngest and largest son. I think the keys were even extra large.
The repertoire was challenging and every band member’s private lesson would always have a certain length of time devoted to perfecting the band music. Some band members used to refer to band rehearsals as the “Monday Night at the Fights” (or whatever night it was) as arguments between Oakley and Melba were not uncommon. The group would sit quietly while Oakley would follow Melba as she stormed into the house to solve a musical (or some other) difference.
One unique claim to fame was utilization of the Yale Accordion Orchestra as a Community Concert’s signature performance for a local community. It was the stuff publicity materials were made of.
The Yale’s were a wonderful part of the Los Angeles accordion scene for many years and did much to contribute to the musical education and enjoyment of many people.
I was thoroughly enjoying new found adventures, combining my passion for accordion with my early years in academia; however things were to change again – on several fronts.
First was my weight. I had been overweight for years. The weight, or more accurately my perception of it as it related to my self worth, didn’t help my popularity in high school. But looking back at it, I didn’t like any of the other kids in high school anyway, so it didn’t matter. However, I liked the other students at El Camino. Maybe I thought that I would fit in even better if I weren’t so fat.
But the actual decision about weight – the one that stuck – happened at an accordion competition. I remember watching a fellow competitor who was an extraordinary musician, but very obese. I told my folks that I didn’t want to look like that – and stopped eating. Literally.
It would be an understatement to say that I have a compulsive personality. Compulsive personalities are the things 8-hour practice days are made of. So my obsession de jour became loosing weight. When it was all done, I had gone from about 212 lbs in high school to about 122 lbs during my final year at El Camino. During that year, I was also a member of the El Camino College Chorale, conducted by Jane Skinner Hardester. I was recruited more for my ability to perform accordion interludes during breaks for the chorale than my vocal talent, though with perfect pitch I could sight sing about anything. Another nice boost was being elected the President of the group. It was the first time I had received recognition from my peers outside my accordion world.
Dr. Haag’s influence probably contributed to my decision to prepare the first movement of Beethoven’s Waldstein Sonata as my next competition piece. I may have even started working on it with Oakley Yale, but then Julio entered the scene.
