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30 Years of Festival Memories
Staff and Board
Susan Mark, Executive Director Board of Directors Karin Blute
Administrative Staff
1980 1981
1982 1983
1984
1985 1986
1987 1988 1989 1990 1991
1992
1993 1994
1995 1996
1997 1998
1999
2000
2001 2002 2003 A third CD is released, "Chamber Music by the Lake, Volume III," highlights of the 2002 season. 2004 2005 2006 The season opens with the Daedalus Quartet in a free community concert that concluded the Hyperscore program, in which the quartet performed new music composed by community residents using the Hyperscore software; the quartet had spent a week in May in residency in local schools. The Ying and Daedalus quartets play the Mendelssohn Octet. Cellist Alisa Weilerstein is the soloist in Tchaikovsy's Variations on a Rococo Theme, Hugh Keelan conducting. Organist David Higgs presents an of solo organ music on First Presbyterian Church's new Casavantes Freres organ. The 2006 Robinson Award winner, oboist Laura Britton of Westhill High School, performs Telemann and Saint-Saens sonatas with pianist Elinor Free and cellist David Ying. Zephyros Winds plays Ligeti's Six Bagatelles and Beethoven's Quintet for Piano and Winds with Reiko Aizawa. Quartetto Gelato presents an evening of music for oboe, English horn, accordion, violin, mandolin, cello and tenor. Soprano Lauren Skuce sings Shostakovich's Seven Romances on Verses by Alexander Blok with Steven Copes, violin, David Ying and Elinor Freer. Copes, Ying, Freer, and Edward Castilano, bass, perform Libby Larsen's Four on the Floor. Olga Kaler, violin, Masumi Per Rostad, viola, Rosemary Elliott, cello, and Seth Knopp, piano, play the Brahms Piano Quartet in C minor. The final concert includes Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, Marina Piccinini as soloist in Mozart's Flute Concerto and violinist Ilya Kaler in Vivaldi's Four Seasons. 2007 2008 2009 2010
Beth Boudreau
Mission To be one of the nation’s outstanding summer music festivals, set in the beauty of the Finger Lakes region, Skaneateles community-inspired, and recognized for its creative and dynamic concert programming, education, and outreach.
As far as a story about the Festival, the one that stays with me is the time that we were helping set up at Hobbit Hollow for the Christmas Suite event. I had brought my son Rex, who was about 5 or 6 at the time. We decorated and hung trees and when we were walking through the barn to leave, Rex saw the sleigh and asked if it was Santa's sleigh. I told him it was and that Santa kept it there for safe keeping. Rex, for years after that, talked about how he saw the secret hiding spot for Santa's sleigh. The Christmas Suite at Hobbit Hollow has always been the tradition that starts the Christmas season for us; it is just magical in every way. The setting, the decorations, the music, the people, the food. We always leave there like we entered another world for a few hours that is just heavenly. One of my most memorable moments illustrates the extraordinary combination of excitement, suspense, emotional relief, spectacular musical talent and the unexpected which have become a hallmark of the Skaneateles Festival. One among many, to be sure, from dozens of wonderful performances over the years that still prove it does not pay to stay in the house or leave town when the Festival is on. Nobody can explain what you missed if you weren't in the audience. Many years ago on a Friday night at St. James, a severe thunderstorm struck the village. Along the lake lightning flashed, thunder crashed, suddenly the lights went out. Like a stroboscopic creation, Andrés Cárdenes passionately played on. Fully engrossed when the lights came back, he never missed a beat, concluding his virtuosic solo through a standing, stomping ovation as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. And it hadn't. But it had. Nothing and everything. All at once. Magic. That's how it is here, at the Skaneateles Festival. We know it will happen again. We just never know when. My favorite memories have to be the ones of our children as toddlers at the outdoor concerts. At one concert I remember Caroline was in a diaper and t-shirt on a hot night and we were minding the baby as Andrés Cárdenes took the stage. Earlier that day he had played wild little tunes for Caroline to dance to. So when she saw him with his violin she figured it was her time to dance again and took off after her fiddling friend. Bob Weirich saw what was about to happen. Instead of grabbing the baby he and a friend held her mother back and Caroline got her 30 seconds of dancing before I caught up to her. Andres loved it and so did some nice folks in A seating! I will have to start at the beginning. When Lindsay Groves first mentioned her idea of having a Chamber Music Festival in Skaneateles to a few of her friends here, we liked the idea enough to form a small board of directors and were incorporated and ready to plan the first season within 3 months. That was the summer of 1980. David and I, and indeed our whole family, have gotten to know so many very wonderful musicians in the 30 years since then. It has been an inspirational and a pleasure for us to be with such talented, good people and count them as our friends. Over 100 people from this community have served over the years as board members. And many others have hosted musicians, helped with meals, given financial support, and of course enjoyed the concerts. It takes a community to raise a Festival! I treasure the joy of sharing my mother's love of music and our village. For more than six years her enthusiasm ensured that we would never miss a performance, once even scampering out of the rain to listen from the garage at Brook Farm. A musician herself, Gladys Bryant sometimes wondered aloud where do the musicians find those notes? To answer critics who complained about new music on the program, she politely compared it to tasting food. How would I know I didn't like the music if I hadn't listened first? Where else would I hear this if I didn't attend the Skaneateles Festival? We are so lucky! I would like to congratulate the Skaneateles Festival upon its 30th season in Central New York. It has been a wonderful thing to be able to enjoy chamber music as it was meant to be heard and played in August in Skaneateles, since 1980! While great-sounding churches and yards, gorgeous Finger Lakes scenery, terrific restaurants, accomplished (ahem) local musicians, and superlatively hospitable people all contribute to the vitality of the Festival, there is another Central New York quality that is probably the most essential: a good audience. We have people in our region who are enthusiastic about classical music, highly educated, discerning, and unafraid to drive long distances for a concert. They solidly support our regional classical music organizations (symphonies, operas, and chamber music series), with their presence and their funds, year-round. These same people climb through snow banks to get into the Civic Center in Syracuse in January, drive the Thruway late at night (listening to WCNY and WXXI) to get to the Kodak Theater and the Stanley Theater, camp in Cooperstown and still dress for Glimmerglass, and find their ways around the campuses of Ithaca, Oswego, and Binghamton to see the great artists appearing at those venues. My hopes for the Skaneateles Festival's future are that it continues to find ways to build a sense of community within our regional arts environment, and especially, to welcome, cultivate, and grow our beloved audience. When Eliot Fisk came to perform in 2004, I was privileged to have him and cellist Michael Kannen rehearse in my home. I tried not to disturb them but returned from a celebration lunch out with my husband and was quietly going upstairs when, very softly, they both played "Happy Birthday" in time to my steps. My festival memory is from the 1997 season at the "kidsfest". That year the "kidsfest" featured a musical zoo in the barn at Brook Farm. My son Xander was 5 at the time and he checked out the zoo and from that experience decided he wanted to play the Cello. I remember Terry Squires was overseeing the zoo and how he told Xander that he could start learning that at school in the 3rd grade (Xander wouldn't even start Kindergarten until the following year). I will always remember the 1st time I had dinner at Brook Farm, probably about 25 years ago or so. Louise received a phone call from a guest, who informed her that he would be bringing four more, as his family decided to come to the festival. Meanwhile, about 4 more people showed up for dinner, unexpectedly. While most people get worked up about doing a dinner for 8, these 8 changed the numbers from 16 to 24! Without a spoken word, Louise looked at Dave with her gentle smile; Dave trucked off to the garden to return with some fresh lovelies from their garden, and wah-la, Loiuse made a new dish of the most delicious pasta with fresh garden vegetables with pesto, and an additional garden salad... as in just picked from the garden... Never in my life have I witnessed two people who flowed together with such grace, sync & hospitality before. (This scenario was a regular happening as I further witnessed throughout the years!)
The 2006 season was dedicated to the memory of David Robinson, our beloved Festival co-founder, who devoted his time and effort to the Skaneateles Festival for more than twenty-five years. He opened his heart and home to musicians and audiences alike, enriching countless lives with his generosity, warmth and humor. * * * * * * Attending the Skaneateles Festival has always involved more than buying a ticket and listening to beautiful music. The music has taken many of us listeners and musicians to a different level because of the strong personal, family-like connections. It is what has made the Skaneateles Festival unique among the world's best music festivals. The Festival will never be without David Robinson. During rehearsals on the porch, we will remember him coming out of the garden, arms full of vegetables for the evening meal. During intermissions at the church, we will remember him moving the piano in one of his oldest Skaneateles Festival t-shirts; and during the standing ovations, we will remember his giant applause. It is in the music itself that we will find him most, with his broad shoulders and enthusiastic smile. As we listen, we will be able to envision him delivering festival signs all over town, talking with musicians on the porch at Brook Farm, welcoming visitors with a smile and sitting down just long enough to enjoy a feast made by Louise. With the sounds of the chamber orchestra as our backdrop, we will hear his big baritone voice telling jokes at board meetings, singing to children at the Children's Fair or KidsFest, and exclaiming with unabashed praise and enthusiasm over a recent concert. The Festival is what it is, in very large part, because of David and Louise Robinson. But if you really want to know David Robinson, close your eyes and feel the music, the moment and the joy. * * * * * * We have so many fabulous memories of David Robinson, ones that will stay with us forever. When we first arrived at Brook Farm to begin interviewing for the position of Artistic Director, David Robinson (as Louise always addressed him when there was more than one David in the room!) greeted us at the door with the famous twinkle in his eye and immediately made us feel like we belonged at SkanFest. From then on, our first season as Directors was filled with wonderful encounters with the Robinson family. One final memory: sponsor Alan Byer Volvo had provided a fantastic sporty red brand new Volvo to be placed at the entrance to concerts. David put himself in charge of driving it from Brook Farm (where it had been placed for an earlier concert) over to our season finale at the Skaneateles High School. With no plates on it, he took off up the driveway (with Louise following behind, in case he got pulled over) and roared down the road, just like a teenager who had just gotten his license. He chuckled as he bragged about the car's acceleration and how he was just waiting for the cops to stop him! David, though you've sped down this last highway a little too fast for us to catch up, you will live in our hearts forever. And though we miss you greatly, we know you are looking down on SkanFest and enjoying every single note and phrase along with us. This is your legacy, and we are honored to carry it forward. -Elinor Freer and David Ying, Co-Artistic Directors * * * * * * I learned to live my life through the music of David's life. For that I will always be blessed. * * * * * * David Robinson IS the Skaneateles Festival. There has been no one more dedicated to the music, the musicians, and the spirit of the Festival as he. The sight of Dave carrying music stands to a concert locale at the break of day and long after the sun has set is an image of the man I simply cannot shake. He so loved the Festival that he was willing to disregard the time of day in order to get something accomplished for it. That he and his lovely wife Louise made their own home available to musicians to sleep, eat, and practice there would have been ample proof of that dedication. But it went so much farther and deeper than that. I have seen him remain calm and totally in control in the midst of a sudden crisis. I have heard his spot-on assessment of an artist's performance of Mozart as well as the music itself. In fact, I still "see" and "hear" that wonderful man, and happily assume that strange ability and privilege will never leave me. * * * * * * In 1999 I applied for the job of Artistic Director with what probably was an overabundance of zeal: a 26-page proposal. David Robinson met me at the airport when I arrived for my interview by the Festival's search committee. "I read your proposal last night," he said as we strolled along the corridor; then he paused, twinkled in my direction and added, "I was exhausted!" That was just one of David's many gifts, an ability to put an anxious stranger at ease in an instant. His other gifts- as baritone, narrator, stage manager, piano mover, board member, gardener, psychiatrist and grandfather, were invaluable in the Festival's development and growth. More than one musician confided to me that they thought of David and Louise as an extra set of loving parents. It's a fantasy I can easily understand. David's calm, direct, no-nonsense seriousness was often a great comfort to me and many other high-strung musicians. But that seriousness was immediately thrown over the side when there were children in sight, which is when his playfulness really came to the fore, whether he was playing with his own grandkids or hamming it up for a KidsFest audience. I know that I'm a lucky woman for having known him, and Skaneateles was a lucky town to have had him. -Diane Walsh, Former Artistic Director 2000-2004 * * * * * * I am David Robinson's niece, Dale, Claire Shaw's daughter. This is the last email I sent to Uncle David, it is heartfelt and accurate. Dear Uncle David, It has been wonderful having you as an uncle. It was always very exciting to be getting a visit from my mother's "handsome brother David." Our childhood was punctuated with many of those visits from you, your lovely wife and your wonderful and talented children, most importantly my very special favorite cousin, Peggy. (Remember the Christmas in Huron South Dakota when all seven cousins were sick with the flu simultaneously?) Our summers were spent with heavenly abandon on and in Lake Skaneateles. You and Aunt Louise were always kind, gentle and supportive of me and my sisters. I can imagine we were not a totally easy bunch but we felt cherished and we thrived in your attention. Campfire songs, corn roasts and water sports were the order of the day! As we got older the generosity only increased! Intellectual discussions were always forthcoming, we were fed delicious food, much of it grown by you in your garden, lovely artwork to look at and a warm and inviting house was shared. (Mint Juleps on the veranda.) How many of us got married at Brook Farm? Music from family and friends became a thrilling addition and family reunions at Brook Farm were regular events. At Brook Farm we came to show off the latest additions to our family and watch babies learn to swim and bask in the warmth of summer. With much, much love, your niece, * * * * * * David always added joy to the dinners we hosted for the musicians and our supportive community. He shared my love of sweets and lit up when he had the chance to make his own sundae or construct an ice cream cone with lots of sprinkles. It was always a special occasion when David and Louise were present. * * * * * * It would be impossible to think of the Skaneateles Festival without thinking of David and Louise. It is an image of peace and love, of humor and tranquility. The death of David has left a gap that cannot be filled nor should it be. He was a unique individual, always an ever-present, supportive strength who put the crazy world of music into clear perspective with his quiet manner and gentle humor. Mary and I wish to give him thanks for the gift of peace he gave us summer after summer. He will not be forgotten by anyone who experienced this friendship. In deep sadness, * * * * * * Baritone laughter * * * * * * For me Dave was half the soul of the Skaneateles Festival. On Friday night, he would sing Copland or Ives. On Saturday morning, he would be moving chairs, pianos, hammering together stage extensions, whatever it took to put a 35-piece orchestra rehearsal on his front porch. Saturday afternoon he'd mow the lawn. By midnight Saturday, he'd be in stitches from the jokes the musicians told following the concert. He had the gift of fully participating in whatever he did. -Bob Weirich, Former Music Director 1990-1999 * * * * * * The kindness and generosity that David and his entire family extended to our family was as remarkable as it was unforgettable. Although we spent only one week a year in Skaneateles, David and Louise's friendship was felt by several generations of Kannen's and Lambros's- from their willingness to take us into their home year after year (even with a curious young boy who always really, really wanted to ride the tractor-mower), to the eye-popping, drool-producing vegetable picking excursions in David's magical garden, to the friendship that recently sprouted between David and Louise and Maria's parents in Montana. We were fortunate to enjoy many summers of fantastic music making and good friends at the Skaneateles Festival, but it was always the prospect of seeing "the Robinsons" that we looked forward to the most. It is hard to believe that a man of such vitality and strength is gone, but the memory of his broad smile and deep voice will be with us always. We are grateful to have known such a remarkable man. -Michael Kannen, Maria Lambros and Daniel Kannen * * * * * * David Robinson, the heart and soul of the Skaneateles Festival, was a man who embodied the kind of human qualities to which we all should aspire: a strong inner core of conviction, honesty and decency, a generosity of both the material and the spirit, the humility of an immensely talented gentleman, and the humor of an earthen soul. He left us in the same way he lived his life: with dignity, a sense of humor and a great appreciation and love for his large family and circle of friends. One thing is for sure - I am a better person, father and violinist for having known Dave for 22 years. Dave, wherever you are, thanks for being here. * * * * * * We will always remember David Robinson's quiet dignity, love for music and gracious hospitality. We had the pleasure and privilege of staying at Brook Farm three times. In the living room and on the porch, with its spectacular view of the lake, we enjoyed many conversations about music, politics and life. He had a great way with children; we remember his narrating at a children's concert. More important to us, he and Louise made our son Julian feel completely at home. They seemed to form the spiritual core of the Festival; though it is hard to imagine the Festival without him, we also know that this wonderful coming-together of musicians and public in a gorgeous setting will be an enduring part of David's legacy. He will leave a gap in the community, and in the hearts of all the musicians who were fortunate enough to come into contact with him. -Eugene Drucker and Roberta Cooper * * * * * * In June 1990 Louise and Dave were guests at my wedding. It was held outdoors surrounded by trees, flowers and shrubs. During the ceremony Dave, always the bird watcher, became aware of and recognized the bird songs that were coming from the trees. Knowing how I love to sing, after the ceremony he presented me with a list of all the birds that had sung at my wedding. How thoughtful. How Dave. -Audrey Fletcher * * * * * * Thinking of Dave Robinson brings smiles, for the welcome he gave, for his enthusiasm, for his tirelessness in doing zillions of things that needed doing during the Festival, for his positive, generous spirit. Now his smile comes back into memory, and his laugh, his thoughtful responses and his jokes. We are grateful to have shared his planet, and we give thanks for Louise and Dave's hospitality and for many happy hours spent in the company of their family. In addition to everything else, they have peopled the earth with generations of mighty fine folks. * * * * * * David became such a wonderful presence in so many of our lives through the Festival. Without knowing it perhaps, he became a mentor and role model for so many of us. All of us were made to feel part of a musical family at Brook Farm by David and Louise's wonderful welcome. Although David's passing has left a hole in all of our hearts, his life, and the way he lived it, is a tremendous source of strength and inspiration. David was a man who completely inhabited his life, and lived it with uncompromising simplicity, directness, and gusto. His sense of connection to others was remarkable--and his insight and empathy were a gift to all who came into contact with him. He will be so greatly missed, and our thoughts go out to Louise and all the family, who shared him with such amazing generosity.... -Steve Doane For Louise, in celebration of your family * * * * * * A life so well lived * * * * * * Although I have only known David Robinson since 1998, the impression he left was a strong one. Most of all, I was so impressed by his patriarchal skills. Through more than 60 years of marriage with Louise, David helped to raise and develop a beautiful family. All the while, he gave not only to his family, but to his community and therefore to everyone around him. I will always remember him as a virile septuagenarian with an illuminating smile, constantly tinkering on the grounds of Brook Farm, always ready to lend a helping hand, serving as a model of what a man should be. * * * * * * With his customary sly humor, Dave told me they had new construction on the property when I visited the last week in April. Seated at the kitchen table, I was a bit slow on the uptake - wondering if this was down by the water - but when he offered a hint, I could see out the window the side of the barn. I knew he was talking about a new birdhouse. I said, "I see it has electrical service." Dave's eyes twinkled and he smiled broadly as Louise reached for the remote control and pointed at the little TV on top of the refrigerator. On came the image of the inside of the birdhouse, seen from the top, looking down to where - with luck - a bird would nest soon. We want to watch them hatch, Louise said. Well, I said, I hope the word is out in the bird community: new house available, must be willing to give up privacy. While a couple of chickadees already had inspected the property, none had moved in yet. And even if none did, the lesson was still clear: See an opportunity and hope. Try and you may be rewarded. The more you try, the more you will have to experience and to share. What a gift. What a statement of optimism. What a reaffirmation of life, a reminder of the potential, not only for some lucky bird family but for the rest of us as well. The joy of spring is in the promise of rebirth and renewal, the daffodils that bloom, the birds that return, the nests they create, the prospect of a summer's warmth and August's music and conviviality and community. Enjoy it, all of it, every day. Keep on the sunny side. Dave did. * * * * * * David Robinson brought so much joy to the world. Especially touching in the excellent article by Mike McAndrews (The Post-Standard, July 10) about David Robinson's death is the mental image created: Hilary Hahn's playing Bach solos in private concerts for him during his last days. Our community has lost a treasure. David, in his usual kind fashion, wrote to thank me: "The evening of the Chamber of Commerce Award turned out to be a delightful celebration of music, the community and 'family.' I think everyone had a genuine good time. I know we did. Perhaps it was especially welcome because there seems to be so little to celebrate on the current world scene." Thank you, David Robinson, for giving us so much joy, despite the world scene. -Karen DeCrow (in a Letter to the Editor, Syracuse Post-Standard) * * * * * * On Sunday afternoon, July 9th, 2006, the valiant heart of David Robinson finally stopped beating. Everywhere this was felt. That day, at North Carolina's Brevard Music Center was the premiere of a concerto for percussion and orchestra, called "The Healer." I happened to be sitting with a long time Festival friend, violinist Andres Cardenes, and we had been talking about David when the concert began. The composer spoke from the stage about his association with music as a healing force; his concerto would revolve around the African log drum and the heartbeat rhythm. Early into the music I found myself thinking - I wish David could be hearing this! The orchestra's percussion instruments created a pulse that ebbed and flowed, and finally slowed. I could hardly breathe, knowing those notes represented the dying heartbeats of our friend. Beside me, Andres was experiencing similar emotions; while the audience erupted into prolonged applause, we were too stunned to speak. I stumbled away and found the composer. I told him about our moving experience; that every one of his notes had represented the heartbeats of our friend. His own eyes flowing with tears, he seemed moved and gratified by our experience. When I got home there was a message on my machine, verifying that David had died earlier that afternoon. To add to the chills, when I reached my daughter Katie later that evening, before I said anything, she said "David Robinson died." She just knew; such is the connectedness of minds and hearts so truly linked with the threads of life. Nothing I could add to the tributes deserved by David Robinson, with his incomparable character, personality, and skills, could come up to par. His is surely a living legacy. Team Louise and David has contributed in innumerable ways to the pleasures and richness of our lives throughout these years of the music Festival and more: His vital presence will continue through this remarkable family. Bill joins me in heartfelt gratitude to both David and Louise for providing the steady pulse of the best years of our lives! -Gwen Birchenough * * * * * * Gifts in Memory of David Robinson
It's concerts on the lawn after a picnic It's Beethoven and Gershwin It's your daughter's inspiration It's a place for kids to come for free It's volunteers and surprising friends It's the masters teaching the next generation It's music by the lake
The idea for a Skaneateles Festival came together quickly in the spring of 1980 in discussions between musician Lindsay Groves and Skaneateles residents Beth Boudreau and Louise Robinson. The first season, two weeks, was presented that August in the village's Library Hall. Through the generosity of David and Louise Robinson, their home, Brook Farm, soon became the Festival's center. At Brook Farm, musicians live, eat, rehearse, relax, and perform, all because of the Robinsons' hospitality, the same that's been extended to the thousands of concertgoers who have sat under the stars and listened to music on Saturday evenings. So it has been for more then two decades. The phrase "spirit of the Festival" flows from the spirit of the Robinsons, as explained here by some musicians who agreed to share images of what happens backstage at Brook Farm. Lindsay Groves My first impressions of Dave and Louise were that they were, somehow, even before they met me, already dreaming of a festival. They had moved to their house, Brook Farm, in the late 1960s, taken its interior completely apart, with the help of daughters Peggy, Claire, Debbie and Eleanor and son Dana, and created a wonderful place to raise their family. When Beth Boudreau introduced me to them in 1980, their children were grown, and they seemed to be looking for fun; they had room in their lives to share their summers and house with a wider group of people. A family tradition of involvement with the classical music community in Central New York meant that they had many connections with potential audience, board of director members, hospitality providers, and performers. I had just realized that I wanted to spend my only free month, August, in Central New York, getting to know the community that had been my home for eight years, and that I wanted to be playing chamber music, with people I knew and people I didn't know. Miraculously, Dave and Louise had, among their family members, Dana, a graphic artist, who provided a logo and poster help; Eleanor, a fabulous flutist; Claire, a versatile, willing, and accomplished pianist, who could organize fund raising and budgets; Dave, a bass-baritone with a gorgeous, Hermann Prey-like voice, and a love for growing great vegetables; Peggy, who brought beautiful children who danced to, for instance, "Appalachian Spring" performances in the rain, wrote poems that eventually became lyrics for compositions by Bob Weirich, and provided incitement to tell jokes until outrageously late hours on the back porch; and Louise herself, the essential person who made sure everyone else remembered what they needed to do, had a place to sleep, great things to eat, and a chance to socialize. Every new musician to arrive for the next 24 years felt taken care of somehow: medical emergencies, recreational adventures gone amok, attacks of true love, or desires for peace and quiet, were all dealt with gracefully. None of the lucky few who saw it begin and grow could imagine anyone, or any other family, giving the festival a more fertile, nurturing place to grow, or sharing their lives with more generosity. (Lindsay Groves, a cellist, was one of the Festival's founders and its music director from its inception in 1980 until 1990). Claire Robinson Howard I almost can't remember when there wasn't a Skaneateles Festival. My family is a close one, and Mom and Dad have always made themselves amazingly available to their children and grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren. In August things got even busier. We are welcome at Brook Farm, as always, but we are quickly set to work weeding flower gardens, picking beans, sweeping the front porch and back stairs, stirring up lemonade and cookies to serve a rehearsing orchestra, baby-sitting visiting musicians' children, unloading boxes of programs or music stands (or an occasional timpani or harpsichord) for the evening performance. Brook Farm is a flurry of activity all month long, a flurry that varies only in its intensity as each succeeding week reaches climax after climax of inspired meals, rehearsals and concerts. Somehow my parents thrive on the chaos and excitement - they are oases of calm. They are devoted to nurturing this undertaking that began all those summers ago. My mother is well known for her pre-concert dinners where she often serves 15 to 40 people. They are huge gourmet picnics (I can hear her in my head now: "Claire, tell them I have lots of help!) and there is some pressure to serve and clear on time so no one misses the concert. Many memories of these evenings come bubbling up: like the time she fed 60 instead of the anticipated 40 ("how could I turn them away?!"), and the supper that was dropped on the kitchen floor at the last minute, and the supper that was cooked over the fireplace when a thunderstorm knocked the power out; and then there was the frantic first violinist of a visiting quartet for whom the shower water turned cold as she was preparing herself for the evening, and she was told, "I guess you'll have to go for a swim, dear." My mother is a model of practicality and patience, and she never ceases to amaze me with her quiet capacity to care for those around her. The general concert-going public is not aware of how fussy performers can be. They have their special chairs, their rugs, their cushions, lights, music stands and their positioning requests. My father gets great pleasure from setting the stage up correctly, and he accommodates these needs with ingenuity and patience. On windy outdoor concert evenings one of us will be sent scurrying to the laundry room for clothespins to hold the music in place. In 1983 we gave an outdoor performance of Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons" at Brook Farm. The thermometer dipped into the low 50s that evening, and by intermission Dad had rounded up electric space heaters for the stage to keep the musicians' fingers warm. He said later he was praying that fuses wouldn't blow, and, come to think of it, why didn't they? Sometimes Brook Farm concerts get a little divine intervention. We call it Camelot. (Claire Robinson Howard was general manager of the Festival for its first 10 years and performed as a pianist in concerts for 15 years.) Paul Hersh I have more warm and fond memories of Skaneateles, Brook Farm, and David and Louise and all the Robinsons than it would be possible to share in a brief note. From our days in Binghamton to the many summer weeks spent at the Festival, I have recollections of the warmest welcoming hospitality, the stimulating exchange of ideas, a continually fresh sense of humor, and countless cutthroat games of "Pit." My immediate and my extended family as well as other musicians their partners, friends, children, relatives, even pets were made to feel at home and supplied with every possible necessity and comfort, from a late breakfast, to a sympathetic ear, to a hug and a Band-Aid for a child's skinned knee, to Louise's Sunday morning popovers with home-made preserves. It was early on one of those warm Sunday mornings, that Louise and I, usually the early risers, retired to the back porch, I with a popover in hand, Louise with a broom, to gossip, while I ate and she swept. One of the musicians who was to be part of the next week's crew had just been delivered to the front door by relatives, who were obviously stunned by the beauty and majesty of the house and its setting. As they came around the corner toward us, we saw them nod in our direction and whisper, "Oh look, there are a couple of the servants!" I hope untold others will have an opportunity to enjoy the Skaneateles Festival and a real Robinson welcome for many years to come. All who do will cherish the memory for a lifetime. The association of Dave and Louise Robinson with the Skaneateles Festival is inseparable. Their constancy of generosity and kindness are the foundation of a wonderful musical and cultural experience for all of Central New York, and examples for this experienced in my many years of my involvement with the Festival are way too many to mention them all. Perhaps the most fundamental gift is the welcoming of everyone involved with the festival as a member of family. The good cooking and hospitality surrounding this atmosphere contribute to the creativity and generosity that is often displayed in the sounds of music that are at times seemingly magical, for both the musicians and audience alike. At outdoor performances at Brook Farm the weather often will provide some anxiety, and, even worse, an occasional thunderstorm. I do recall one performance from the 1980s (Joe Genualdi was the soloist that night) where it appeared as if the second half might succumb to one thunderstorm that seemed to be headed directly at Brook Farm. During the first half of the performance, Louise was standing in the driveway watching and looking westward at the storm as it approached. Somehow this storm seemed to split apart just as it neared Brook Farm. Both Mandana and the village of Skaneateles got very wet, and the concert was enjoyed without a sprinkle. All of us performing and listening that evening smiled at Louise afterwards as we thanked her again for the hospitality. The food was good, too. (Gregory Quick was the first bassoonist to perform with the Festival, in 1981, and served on its board of directors. He's principal bassoon with the Syracuse Symphony Orchestra.) Joe Genualdi The story that comes to mind for me is the time that my wife Cydne was driving up to Skaneateles, and the car broke down, It was one in a long line of Volvos that we have owned, and the only bad one. It had a nasty habit of vapor locking, which it would only do if the weather was very hot and it had been running for several hours. Hence you just about be sure to be in the middle of nowhere. As we circled the strip, the tow truck was driving up. Imagine when the tow truck guy asked Cydne where to drop her and she said the air... 'port'. We snatched her out of greater Wurtsboro and headed back to Cortland. Meanwhile quite a summer storm was brewing and we were forced to dodge enormous cumulonimbus cells that were clearly very active. "Guess the concert will be at St. James," we were thinking. We landed in Cortland in wet conditions and drove through hard rain all the way back up until we passed Mandana, where we suddenly found a dry road and a beautiful sunset. "Louise has done it again," we all said. When we said it to Louise, she just smiled and shrugged. After all, no one can influence weather. Right? Some of my fondest, finest, happy recollections go back to Brook Farm and the Robinson clan. Both musically and personally, Dave and Louise are so generous and selfless, not to mention just a lot of fun. They created magic. (Joe Genualdi is artistic co-director of the Chicago Chamber Musicians and first violinist of the Chicago String Quartet. He first appeared at the Festival in 1982.) Andres Cardenes David and Louise Robinson are synonymous with the Skaneateles Festival. You can't think of one without the other. The incredible meals, the rehearsals in their warm home, the grandchildren growing up in front of us all, the jokes, the beach, the festival-ending bonfires with their kids, the woodpeckers waking us early each day, the bruising basketball games and the many bets I lost to their granddaughter Gabrielle (she almost needed a 1099 form, I lost so much.)! I always felt a part of their family, visiting them I have so many happy memories of their home and friendship. Being a "city boy" from the island of Cuba, I was always amused at Dave's management of the house and property. My funniest recollection is during a heated basketball game in their driveway, breaking the bathroom window above the rim with the basketball and seeing Jim LaRonde (his tenant in the garage apartment) lean his head out the window and say sarcastically, "Nice going!" But on a serious note, what greater people are there anywhere? They are the ultimate concertgoers, supporters of the arts, friends, parents and neighbors. You have inspired us to play beautifully, to be the best people we can be and have given to all who have come into your sphere your love. Thank you for enriching the lives of countless people, mine in particular. Robert Weirich Try as I might, it's difficult to come up with a couple of reminiscences that perfectly evoke the Robinsons. What occurs to me after 17 years of friendship is their steadfastness. Once they have made up their minds, nothing stands in the way. The Festival is only one example. Forty people for dinner? No problem. Nine hundred on the lawn for a concert? We can do that. Ten hours of rehearsals in the living room six days a week for a month? Great idea! Their enthusiasm is contagious. Just ask the musicians, the volunteers, the board, anyone who has been in close touch with the Skaneateles Festival since its inception. It's very hard to say no to either of them, for the simple reason that they almost always say yes. They have remained consistent in their devotion to the Festival for 24 years. She may be baking chocolate-chip cookies for a rehearsal break while he builds an extension onto the porch for an outdoor orchestra concert; or he may be rehearsing Ives songs for a performance Thursday while she calls around looking for a bed for an unexpected guest. They've done it all, without expectation of glory or even gratitude. They do it for the love of music and people, and we are all the richer for it. (Pianist Robert Weirich made his Festival debut in 1986 and was artistic director from 1991 to 1999) Ian Hobson I had some wonderful times at the festival, and Louise and David and Brook Farm were always at the heart of them. The indefatigable good humor that they both displayed at all times was amazing. Louise cooking and baking for massed hordes with a completely unruffled air and David's ability to deal with any contingency from scheduling to weather were particularly memorable. I wish them all the very best for the continuing success of this unique enterprise. I would love to visit if I can and see it all in action again. (Pianist and conductor Ian Hobson first appeared with the Festival in 1989. He teaches at the University of Illinois.) Katherine Collier and Yizhak Schotten The Robinsons and their incredible hospitality made our experiences of being at the Skaneateles Festival truly unforgettable. We have so many great memories of being at Brooks Farm, but one of our favorite recollections is Dr. Dave each year proudly giving us a tour of his garden soon after we arrived. When we saw all his plump, ripe vegetables we knew we would soon be having them in Louise's delicious dishes. Louise's (Katherine Collier, pianist, and Yizhak Schotten, violist, first performed at the Festival in 1991. They are also directors of the Strings in the Mountains festival in Colorado Springs.) Patricia Brown What I remember from my days at the Skaneateles Festival spending time with David and Louise Robinson is not so much what they said (although David said a lot of funny things in those precious backstage moments). It's who they are that essentially defines the culture of the Skaneateles Festival. It's not something you can touch, it's something you can feel, it's comfortable, exciting and personally fulfilling. I think a big part of it is who they are in the world - continuously discovering life and sharing it with others, caring, nurturing, loving, weathering the bad days and celebrating the good ones. They lead by example. It's truly something you have to experience and it speaks for itself. (Patricia Brown was executive director of the Festival from 1995 to 1999.) Diane Walsh When I applied for the job of artistic director with what probably was an overabundance of zeal: a 26-page proposal. David Robinson met me at the airport when I arrived for my interview by the Festival's search committee. "I read your proposal last night," he said as we strolled along the corridor; then he paused, twinkled in my direction and added, "I was exhausted!" That's David, able put an anxious stranger at ease in an instant. That's Louise, too, who shares his remarkable ability for making everyone feel so welcome they think they've been hanging out on the Brook Farm porch for decades. This is no small gift. I have played at festivals all over the world, and nowhere does the atmosphere match the combination of musical discipline and community warmth achieved each summer in Skaneateles. I have been reminded of this again and again by the enthusiasm performers show after playing at the Festival and by the growing number of musicians who have heard about the Robinsons and the magic of Brook Farm and are eager to play in Skaneateles for the first time. David and Louise are not responsible for this achievement alone, as they would be the first to admit; but they have been prime movers. From the start above the library almost 25 years ago, it's been David the piano mover ("Back to the porch again?! OK, let's do it."); Louise the mistress of the wood-burning stove ("Eight more for dinner?!! OK, get out to the garden, Dave."); David the baritone, stage manager, and emergency psychiatrist; Louise the housing frau, hostess supreme, and back-up emergency psychiatrist. I know that I'm a lucky woman to know them. And Skaneateles is a lucky town to have them. (Pianist Diane Walsh was artistic director of the Festival from 1999 - 2004.)
By Lori Ruhlman When a book is really good, you see images, places and faces - not the individual words the author used in order to get you there. And so it is, for me, with music. It is why, the morning after a Saturday night Skaneateles Festival concert at Brook Farm, I remember more how I felt than what I heard. I know the music was beautiful; I remember each piece. But what stays with me is how I felt when the orchestra opened with a piece by Handel, and the wind was gently blowing scenes of pastel clouds across the rooftop of the grand white house. Swallows swooped just above the porch where the musicians played. With the passing clouds and the changing sounds of Handel's concerto, I felt the bitter-sweet movement of time. I thought of the other summer nights when we laid on blankets in the same spot, with little children at our sides. Now they are all grown up. As acclaimed classical guitarist Eliot Fisk completed the second of his brilliant encores to end the first half of the concert, I could see three stars in the darkening sky. (A favorite part of attending an outdoor concert is actually having/making the time to hold still long enough to see the day turn to night). At intermission, I stood in line at the port-a-potties behind a young woman who had driven to Skaneateles from Hamilton with her husband and two young children to experience a first concert. She had chosen a place to sit away from the crowd, closer to the woods, and was still wondering if her children were too young. I smiled and remembered worrying about the too-loud sounds of a toddler trying to whisper during a concert. A 20-something woman behind me in line had a question. "Do you know anything about this house?" she asked. "Yes," I said. But what could I tell her quickly, when I was next in line? "It is owned by one family," I said to her look of awe. And then I added, as I went to take my turn, "They share it with the musicians." I thought of all the things I knew about the house: things I could have told her. I knew that owners David and Louise Robinson had just fed dinner to the musicians, several of whom were spending the week living inside the house. (Others were living in other homes in the village). I knew that granddaughter Caroline Manring had missed most of the first half of the concert because she was inside washing dishes, and that son-in-law John Manring had also showed up late because he had been directing traffic down the long, tree-lined driveway. I knew that the Robinson's youngest daughter was on stage playing the flute, while her husband and sons listened from the lawn. That is how much of a family affair this ever-popular festival still remains. I knew that a pile of the Robinsons' children and grandchildren had blankets right next to mine, on the lawn, where they were soaking in the sounds of the music and enjoying a mini-reunion. "It's a worm ranch," the Robinson's eldest daughter Peggy had said, laughing as three adult sisters and one brother had wiggled onto the blankets along with children (from little to adult), spouses and friends (packed like sardines or worms - all generations in one). I knew that, for 25 years, these family members had welcomed crowds to join them on the lawn, in the water and at the dinner table, all for the sake of music - beautiful music. By the time I got back to my blanket to hear Aaron Copland's "Suite from Appalachian Spring," the sky had exploded with stars. The three I could see before intermission had multiplied into too many to even count. The sky punctuated the feeling I carried from the music: time goes by swiftly. You wake up one morning, and the kids are grown. You close your eyes and - if you aren't careful - you miss the experience of the stars beginning to appear. With the sky already full of stars above me, I did close my eyes then. And in a not-quite-asleep-but-relaxed-enough-to-have-heightened-senses state, I let the "folk ballet" of Copland (and the magical festival orchestra) take me on a journey of time, and of seasons, letting me feel them all at once. Yes, time goes by, and it is meant to be embraced and tasted and cherished. Life gets its richness from the fact that nothing ever stays the same. As I stood after the concert, cheering with the crowd into the night air, I thought of how chamber music can condense decades of feelings and memories into a few moments. Music transcends individual instruments and specific moments in time, letting us feel what someone in 1750 or 1945 might have intended. It isn't the individual notes (or individual days) but the beauty of the song itself. And when one song (or one year, decade or generation) has been played, it isn't really over - not if we savored the sound and still carry the feeling.
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