Jonathan Levine
He was the Mad Hatter in the wonderland in which we grew up...that magical kingdom located somewhere between the Land of Oz and Interstate 287. A school without walls, the faculty of which sprang directly from the Age of Aquarius and taught us that, even in a building with ceilings, you still could fly. Like so many others, I remember very fondly my days with Mr. Trautwein and how the entire program first began. It was a daunting task that he'd undertaken - trying to convince kids (especially the guys) just barely in their teens that singing in a choir wasn't utterly ridiculous, for lack of a better word. Of course he'd pulled the old bait and switch - luring us in with the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, only to have us singing Rogers and Hammerstein within a few short years. But it was a glorious trip indeed! He knew when to crack the whip and went to let the reigns out, often giving us just enough rope to nearly hang ourselves. Of course he knew that the chorus to Beethoven's Hallelujah didn't go "Alice Blew ya...oh my God I'm going to come!" but he'd usually let a handful of us get in a few verse's before finally blowing his lid.
It was a special time and place and he a special man. He expected the very best of his students and refused to let them settle for anything less. Those who will never get the opportunity to work under the tutelage of George Trautwein will be missing something truly unique and genuine.
Jonathan Levine
Wow! Of all the pieces we performed, David's Lamentation was by far my favorite. Such a haunting piece. For so many years, I thought how amazing it would be to hear a recording but assumed that was an utter pipe dream. How you managed to save or come across this is beyond me. Thank you.
Jonathan Levine
I think this particular example illustrates the magic of that choir under Mr. Trautwein's guidance better than any other. We were not gifted musicians by any stretch. Sure, each class had one or two standouts who hung out way towards the far end of the melodic bell curve. For the most part, though, we were a bunch of run of the mill high school students with no remarkable talent of which to speak. And yet somehow, that man managed to coax such wonderful music from somewhere deep inside each of us. That as the real gift.
He was the Mad Hatter in the wonderland in which we grew up...that magical kingdom located somewhere between the Land of Oz and Interstate 287. A school without walls, the faculty of which sprang directly from the Age of Aquarius and taught us that, even in a building with ceilings, you still could fly. Like so many others, I remember very fondly my days with Mr. Trautwein and how the entire program first began. It was a daunting task that he'd undertaken - trying to convince kids (especially the guys) just barely in their teens that singing in a choir wasn't utterly ridiculous, for lack of a better word. Of course he'd pulled the old bait and switch - luring us in with the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, only to have us singing Rogers and Hammerstein within a few short years. But it was a glorious trip indeed! He knew when to crack the whip and went to let the reigns out, often giving us just enough rope to nearly hang ourselves. Of course he knew that the chorus to Beethoven's Hallelujah didn't go "Alice Blew ya...oh my God I'm going to come!" but he'd usually let a handful of us get in a few verse's before finally blowing his lid.
It was a special time and place and he a special man. He expected the very best of his students and refused to let them settle for anything less. Those who will never get the opportunity to work under the tutelage of George Trautwein will be missing something truly unique and genuine.
Jonathan Levine
Wow! Of all the pieces we performed, David's Lamentation was by far my favorite. Such a haunting piece. For so many years, I thought how amazing it would be to hear a recording but assumed that was an utter pipe dream. How you managed to save or come across this is beyond me. Thank you.
Jonathan Levine
I think this particular example illustrates the magic of that choir under Mr. Trautwein's guidance better than any other. We were not gifted musicians by any stretch. Sure, each class had one or two standouts who hung out way towards the far end of the melodic bell curve. For the most part, though, we were a bunch of run of the mill high school students with no remarkable talent of which to speak. And yet somehow, that man managed to coax such wonderful music from somewhere deep inside each of us. That as the real gift.
