Who was your most influential teacher? It took me years to realize it, but my most influential teacher was F. Michael Hatfield (1936-2020), my major professor for my Doctoral studies at Indiana University.
This statement is likely to surprise some of my former students, as I mention Verne Reynolds far more often in lessons. Reynolds was my teacher for my MM and one semester of DMA studies at Eastman. I worked very hard with him, learned a lot (detailed further in this article), made progress to the point of advancing in auditions and winning a slot in the National Repertory Orchestra, but also at the end of those studies I really needed a break from his style of teaching.
After Eastman, I was out of school for a year and a half, and for a year of that lived in Rochester, taking private lessons and auditions (as I recently described further here). I made finals several times, but I was in fact interested to teach at the college level and felt that I needed to go back to school to complete that Doctorate.
Another thing I rarely mention to my students is that I applied only to IU to continue my Doctoral studies. Hatfield was not my teacher in Aspen, but I had contact with him first through studies at the Aspen Music festival (1982, 83, 85), and in particular in the later summers worked with him in ensembles several times (a 1985 performance of Carmina Burana with Sergiu Comissiona conducting being particularly memorable, he was on first, I was on fourth). Besides buzzing around Aspen in his jeep, he was also a fine performer, (having served among other positions as Principal Horn of the Cincinnati Symphony for 23 seasons), and I liked how he interacted with his students.
Looking back, I realize also that Hatfield must have looked at me as someone he could work with, and that I was someone with a work ethic and potential. That acceptance was also one of those big moments that created what my life has become. I would have never met my wife of now 30 years without going to IU, etc.
At IU I studied with Hatfield for seven semesters, plus I was his teaching assistant for three of those years (1988-91–the official IU terminology was either Associate Instructor or Graduate Assistant, depending on my actual load any given semester). I changed my embouchure with him the first semester of my studies, and learned so much beyond what I knew with just the MM. What literature didn’t I study with him? In addition to that, I taught horn lessons for up to three students a semester, assisted with the horn studio in general, conducted horn ensemble readings, taught horn techniques (methods) for music education students, and ran a course for brass chamber music ensembles. Those years were an incredible experience for me in many ways.
Still, it is rare for me to mention Hatfield when I teach lessons today. Perhaps that is as it should be. There is the occasional story related to some excerpt. My students would not know it, but my system of note taking in lessons is based on his, and my general scheme of teaching is similar, although I think with a bit more structure.
I think the biggest musical thing I gained from my studies with Hatfield was a better ability to interpret music. Let me explain. With Reynolds especially, he dictated how I was to play things. They sounded good that way, his approach was solidly thought out, but I was playing music that way because he said to play it that way. With Hatfield, that was not his approach at all. We looked at the music, and he made me think about phrase structures and such and derive an interpretation from that. He did not dictate an interpretation; he facilitated the development of critical thinking skills in relation to making music. It was exactly what I needed at that point in my studies to grow as a player and teacher.
Another technique I picked up from Hatfield that I use in my teaching frequently is a recording setup. He had microphones and a cassette tape system in his office that he used frequently. Prior to that, none of my teachers had made use of this in lessons, and hearing things back in real time in a lesson situation enabled me to hear my own problems and further develop interpretations and critical thinking skills.
I would be remiss not to mention that Rick Serapinoff helped me much more on my dissertation than anyone actually on my IU Doctoral committee. But, playing wise, ultimately it was Hatfield that helped me prepare the auditions I won in Evansville and Nashville, and several others that I made finals and advanced in. He was my final horn teacher, and he mentored me through a critical period of my life.
When you are the teaching assistant for someone for three years, you also know much of his or her life, their strengths, and their weaknesses. At the time, I knew Hatfield certainly was a humble and very hard worker, a very dedicated teacher. He regularly had over 20 students at IU and probably 5 or 6 more of them at CCM (where he then still taught one day a week!), and he went to very close to every concert that involved his students. He taught hours and hours of lessons in a row without breaks every week, and was incredibly supportive and giving of his time. With my own years of teaching, looking back at him now, he was clearly working much too hard, in what was in reality a rather difficult and likely stressful horn teaching situation. His actual teaching load at the time was always close to twice as heavy as that of Myron Bloom, who had his office just two doors down the hallway. Hatfield kept a positive attitude, I do not recall a complaint from him (other than maybe health related, especially when he had the broken ribs**), but this is all to say college teaching is not the easy gig some might think it to be.
Speaking of working with Myron, there are stories. One I will share is that it was an honor to perform, and then record with IU faculty, the Dvorak Serenade for Wind Instruments, Op.44, with this horn section:
- Myron Bloom
- John Ericson
- Mike Hatfield
The recording was, to my knowledge, never released. Two specific stories. One is that Bloom played on three (!) different horns during the course of the recording sessions; some takes on an early Elkhart 8D (I’m thinking 300,000 series), some on an Eastlake 8D (borrowed from one of his current IU students!), and some on an Alexander 103 (which he just loved looking at). The other story is that on the very last section of the end of the work, there was only one take, and it seemed clear to me that Bloom did not get a clean one. The conductor asked if everyone was happy and Bloom said nothing and I said nothing and Hatfield said nothing. Probably was a smart move for me and Hatfield. Oh, and Bloom told me during the sessions that my 500,000 series 8D, while it sounded great, was unusable, he had played horns like it and I needed a different horn. I was not in a position to get one though, and ultimately I played that very horn most of the time for many years. Hatfield was using, of course, his Lawson-upgraded brass Holton Farkas.
I saw Hatfield the year he retired (2004), and was glad to further reconnect with him several times in his retirement, such as in 2012 at the Denton IHS symposium where this photo was taken at breakfast. He always spoke to me with such genuine care and concern, and was so enthused about my family and where my career had taken me, our later conversations are such a warm memory. At the same time, he was also willing to share with me the realities of his life, I think to a further degree than he might have if I had not worked with him so closely. It was a very special experience, and a reminder that horn professors have their own sets of individual life challenges to face.
Returning to his teaching, he preferred to treat each student individually. I do not recall an obvious, specific pattern of materials that he used with everyone, although I do remember being impressed that he had literally a photographic memory of everything in Maxime-Alphonse, clearly it was a favorite teaching material. Besides the development of interpretations mentioned already, he was great at solving problems. I worked out many of them with him, and to my mind, that is the essence of good teaching. For another example of something I use from him, the “thumb on the chin” technique I described in the recent article on the low range was from Hatfield, I use that all the time with students — it is great for exploring and solving low range issues.
Mr. Hatfield (he will always be Mr. Hatfield to me) passed on July 4, 2020 at the age of 84. I have no idea how many students he would have worked with over the years, but it is no small number. Personally I took well over 100 lessons with him, and that number of hours working together is enough to be highly, if quietly, influential on any life. He was my final horn teacher and has a special place in my life to be sure. May he rest in peace and my sincere condolences to his family and friends. His obituary may be found here.
**Sometime during my work with/for Hatfield, he was hit by a bicyclist while walking on a sidewalk near the school of music. The accident broke as I recall three ribs, and he could not play horn at all for a while. He was very stoic by nature but clearly, it was painful for him. To this day, I am nervous when I see anyone coming toward me riding a bicycle on a sidewalk.
The short answer is I have seen concert mellophone resources from the 1930s/40s that show the left hand holding either the rim of the bell or the valve section (fingering, of course, with the right hand). It was/is not normal to put a hand in the bell of a traditional mellophone.