I had the great pleasure of getting to learn from and work with Arlene in various settings: 2 years of taking her musicianship lab, TAing 550/560, being a piano student in the applied music program that she oversaw, and her being my advisor.
There are some quotes from educators that stick with you forever and the quote I’ll always remember from Arlene is her telling our advanced musicianship class, “These are your skills, not mine,” while we struggled to get through atonal sight singing melodies. Arlene always cared about her students walking away from her classes with practical skills, but the thing I really appreciate in retrospect is the practice ethic she inspired in us. She encouraged us to take responsibility for our skills, and even if we struggled (I remember the nerves many of us felt going into her office for individual exams and piano juries), she always welcomed us and encouraged us when we were ready to try again. She cared about the small wins. She also understood that sometimes instead of giving musical criticism or educational suggestions, the best thing she could do for her students was ask, “How are you?” and genuinely want to hear the answer.
Even while expressing disappointment that I didn’t play piano recitals as often as she would have liked, she always showed up to the theater productions I music directed. Arlene constantly put aside her ego and the self-importance which plagues so much of the field of education (“my class is most important”) in order to support her students as full, well-rounded people, and I believe that’s what made her the heart of the music department. Arlene was a vital part of my college and music education in general. I’m so grateful I got to learn from her and spend time with her, and I will miss her greatly.
It was a windy day in New England when I first met Arlene. At the time, I was a senior in high school and I was applying to Brown. Little did I know that she will be my mentor and a special person in my life for many years to come.
I was fortunate to get accepted to Brown and have Arlene as my piano teacher. Being away from home for the first time, she was like my second mother. I further felt a connection with her as I was originally from Japan and she was a second generation Japanese. She was the best teacher I could ever ask for. Arlene was a phenomenal pianist and she knew exactly what I needed to do to improve and mature as a musician. Her devotion to her students and generosity with her time was exceptional. She was always encouraging, challenging, and most of all caring.
In my sophomore year I entered the annual concerto competition, but I did not get through the first round. Arlene suggested that I try again the following year and this time I won. It was one of the most memorable experiences in my life to play the Ravel Concerto with the Brown University Orchestra. It probably was the turning point of my life as I started to consider pursuing music as a career. She taught me about projection in concert halls and different tone qualities. She also taught me how to engage in performance and connect with the instrument.
I remember having a long conversation with Arlene about my decision to apply to music conservatories. She knew that I was not the most dedicated and diligent student, and told me that it is not an easy road to take. I knew deep down that this was what I wanted to do with my life, and she was ever so supportive with my choice.
I kept in touch with Arlene after I left Brown to go to the New England Conservatory and later on to the Royal College of Music in London. I saw her every time I visited the New England area.
Had I not met Arlene, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I feel ever so grateful for her believing in me. She was truly an incredible teacher and individual. I am thankful that we were able to meet on the screen quite a few times in the recent years and she was able to see my little boy. She was always positive and smiling, and ever so kind. Thank you for helping me find my path, Arlene. I will miss you tremendously, but cherish our memories together forever.
Arlene Cole was the soul of the music department, and the single warmest presence on Brown’s campus. I had the pleasure of taking the lab part of 550/560 with her, and later the advanced musicianship 1010/1011 classes. Arlene was always patient and generous with students of all ability levels, and made her class a safe space for personal growth.
I’ll remember going to her office for exams and trying to play/sing in four clefs, realize figured bass, clap/stomp/sing polyrhythmic exercises, and engage in other esoteric musical pursuits. It was always clear that these endeavors were for the love of music itself and exploring the bounds of one’s capabilities, and the joy Arlene felt in fostering that curiosity in her students was palpable.
Arlene was one of my favorite professors I had at Brown, and it always made me smile to see her around Orwig. After graduating, when together with other former Brown music students, we always seem to end up reminiscing fondly about her and her classes. Now that she has passed, may her memory continue to bring warm thoughts and smiles to all those who had the honor to know her.
Arlene was my professor for four semesters, covering the basics, and then the not-so-basics, of ear training, piano technique, rhythm skills, and sight-singing: the building blocks of good musicianship. People say that you forget almost everything you learn in college within a few months, but I use everything I learned in Arlene’s class on a daily basis. (In fact, the 101 Bach Chorales book and Modus Novus are sitting on the bookshelf behind me right now, well-thumbed-through and not the least bit dusty.)
Even after those four semesters, though, Arlene was a constant presence in my life at Brown. More than a teacher of skills, she was a model of how to be a good member of a community. Arlene made me feel welcome, feel known, from the very beginning. She was a link between the long-standing institution of Brown and the department and each of us who made it our home for a few short years. And she had an incredible knack for balancing the highest standards in music making with a positivity in accepting us wherever we were at that moment.
Two examples illustrate that balance:
1. I was sitting in Arlene’s office one day listening to the recordings that prospective students had sent in with their applications. (Why was I there? I genuinely don’t remember…) Each recording sounded, to a non-pianist like me, incredible. These were teenagers performing concertos with full orchestras or working their way through desperately tricky solo repertoire.
Arlene would listen for a few moments and say, “eh.”
She only needed a few notes to understand who was just playing the piano and who had real potential as a musician. It was a humbling experience of her powers of discernment and musical sense.
2. This actually happened to a very good friend, not me, but we’ve talked about it over the years whenever Arlene comes up in conversation and it’s somehow become one of my favorite memories of her.
Do you remember the part of our musicianship exams where we had to play piano and sing, regardless of our prior training or inclination as pianists or singers? My friend was an excellent musician on her instrument but had studied neither piano nor voice before arriving in Arlene’s class.
She had labored her way through the exercise on her exam until the very end. She saw the last note. High. Higher than anything else in the passage, and she didn’t really know where it fit in her vocal range. So she just picked the highest note she could sing, sang it, and concluded the piece.
Arlene looked at her, cocked her eyebrow and smiled, and said, “a little sharp.”
Arlene Cole was a beautiful human being whose patient tutelage, kindness, and commitment to excellence made the Brown University music department a welcoming home for me and for so many of my friends and colleagues. In the years since I graduated, I’ve always looked forward to seeing her and checking in during my visits back to Providence. It’s hard to believe that she won’t be waiting there in Orwig next time I return. I will miss her dearly. May her memory be a blessing.
When I came to Brown in 1971, over 50 years ago, I found that Brown was a bigger pool to swim around in than I had expected. With no requirements, and in those days lacking any academic counseling, I often felt that there was something wrong with me because I didn’t have an obvious path forward. My roommate suggested I audition for piano lessons. Whatever it was that I played, Arlene looked at me with a big smile. She was game to teach me.
Arlene was such a good person, such a fun, lively person, and she took an interest in me. She was just ten years older than me. She never talked down to her piano students. Her criticisms often started, “Have you ever thought of this —.” She liked to talk to people, she liked Brown, she liked Providence, she liked to cook. She loved her family. She loved going home to Cleveland on vacations, shopping with her mother for Japanese ingredients. She fussed over the cream cheese brownies that she brought to recitals. She sometimes took her sister Marilyn, who was going to RISDE, and me on expeditions, or had us over for supper. I remember Arlene frying perfectly delicious fish that her dad caught on Cape Cod, for breakfast. It would possibly be frowned upon in today’s world, but I sometimes came over and had a nighttime lesson, after supper, after Geraldine and Eliot went to sleep. Brian would go back to work with his thermos of coffee; there were toys scattered around the piano. It was wonderful, fundamental. There was no affectation. It was the essence of an honest musician’s life, Arlene’s world.
In terms of piano and music in my life, Arlene simply turned me around. She had a concept of tone, of rich sound, and of how to produce that sound at the keyboard, that was completely eye opening to me. She talked about how a pianist’s physical rigidity or inflexibility would stop the sound. I didn’t believe it at first. And this was typical of Arlene, she was perfectly willing to get in the weeds with me and play single notes for an hour to prove her point. We’d take turns, covering our eyes and listening to each other play a note. Just a note.
Because Arlene had this discernment of sound, of initiation and decay, the ability to produce different kinds of legato, and overall such richness of color, her playing was beautiful to me in a way I think is very rare and special. Her melodies were bel canto, beautifully sung. Beyond that, the voice was particularly contemporary and direct, in the way Miezcyslaw Horszowski sounds unhackneyed and modern.
As a piano teacher myself, I know what an achievement it is just to get the student to learn the notes, to get from A to Z, to be comfortable playing a piece. Arlene was interested in hearing something deeper. When she sat at a concert, I noticed that she crossed her legs and seemed to focus on her shoes, just listening. I emulated her. I would have liked to be her, and I guess I idolized her. Eventually, I realized she had other students to be get to know and I had to go out into the world myself. The last time we were in contact was after Arlene’s father died. For years, I’ve been thinking I would arrange to stop in Providence for a visit. We always think that there’s more time. I extend my deepest sympathy to Arlene’s whole family, and to her students and colleagues.
I was very sorry to receive the news of Arlene Cole’s passing. Arlene was indeed the beating heart of Brown’s music department. Whenever I entered Orwig I could count on running into Arleen in the building, buzzing around the hallways, classrooms and practice rooms upstairs and down and exuding her ever-present joie-de-vivre. Inevitably she would stop and ask me what piano or clarinet repertoire I was working on with Linda (Jiorle-Nagy) and Robert (Annis), how was orchestra going, how much time was I spending directing The Higher Keys, the a cappella singing group I’d recently started, or on PW and Sock & Buskin shows (instead of practicing!)…there would be more. Her dedication to her students and passionate interest in all our activities was exemplary. Arlene, along with Linda, Robert, Mary Lewis, and James Baker, played a huge role in shaping who I am today and in my decision to make a life in music; first in music programming at Lincoln Center and now in publishing at Schott. As I write this, I am with the composer and pianist Vijay Iyer in London for the rehearsals and world premiere this evening at Royal Festival Hall of his cello concerto with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. I know that Arlene would have stopped me and asked about that!
Unlike many of the wonderful people who have posted here, I knew Arlene only briefly. My high school kids were visiting colleges in summer 2017, and we stopped at Brown. Nothing happening on campus, so we wandered into the music department and looked at the flyers and brochures outside the office. Lo and behold, Arlene sweeps in, very very late for her hair appointment, but curious about us. We knew little about Brown or the music program but within seconds we were infected by her enthusiasm. She must have been very late to her hair appointment because she gave us a full tour of the department and the recital hall! Fast forward, my son William Adriance (’21) got to be her TA for music theory and my daughter Madeleine (’24), while not a music major, is a theater major. In my short interaction (plus a couple of others at Parents Weekends), I got in an instant her warmth, positivity, openness, and willingness to throw her plans out the window for others. I can’t tell you how special that was for me. I will miss her too.
Arlene was the lab teacher for 550 and 560 my freshman year, and that’s how I met her. I spent a lot of time with her for the next several semester, first taking her advanced musicianship course, then TA’ing it the next spring (this was one of my favorite times, as weekly meetings with her could always spiral out into friendly chats and catching up. I miss her). I could talk about how she changed my life for thousands of words, but I feel that her impact will only continue to grow exponentially as I grow alongside the memories I have of her, so instead I would like to give a short anecdote.
It was the spring of 2019, and Arlene postponed the 560 lab final by one day because her dog, Theta I believe, had passed away. It seemed ludicrous to me that she would be hosting an exam so soon after a loss, but then again, I understood because of how condensed final season is.
I wasn’t the last person in the day, but it was close enough that I decided to camp out after my exam, waiting outside her office to offer my quick condolences. The one problem: I’d gotten a potted plant for her (something about a living thing seemed apt after hearing what had happened), and as it turns out there is no such thing as quick condolences when you are attempting to impart a gift.
After the last exam finished, Arlene noticed me, accepted the plant and the condolences, and then kept up the conversation. It was a long, impromptu back and forth, where we asked each other questions and talked about dogs, family, music–
And here’s what I learned from one simple conversation:
1) Her mother was improving her piano skills, and she had many of the same opinions as Arlene’s college students (i.e. that certain keys simply had too many sharps or flats, and weren’t meant to be read or played).
2) Her dogs had this bad tendency to eat the wood around the bottom of the piano legs–beautiful pianos full of teeth marks! She’d had to wrap the bottom of the legs to stop this from happening (and she was relieved to hear that my dogs have no such inclinations).
Alongside remembering how wonderful and inspiring Arlene was, I want to pass on these little fun facts because she was one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and she deserves to be commemorated to every extent possible.
Like many others, I was initially drawn into the Music Department because of my piano lessons with Arlene, and continued with the concentration in part to study with her as much as possible. The level of thoughtfulness and intentionality she insisted on certainly transformed my relationship with music. I will always remember the energy and good humor with which she approached life, and treasure her inexhaustible kindness and support.
Arlene contributed a recipe to my wedding cookbook that I’ve included below, along with some of her notes. Lisa and I have made this several times, and we hope that you’ll find this as tasty as we do.
Hungarian Vegetables
“Served by my aunt when we were first married. It remains a family favorite. Makes a big casserole—I have to make it every big occasion.” – Arlene Cole
Ingredients (you can alter vegetables and amounts depending on what you like):
1 potato, diced
1 zucchini, sliced
½ eggplant, diced
4 tomatoes, sliced (you may need more depending on the size of your casserole dish)
½ cup peas
2 small carrots, diced
2 tbsp parsley
1 ¾ cups sharp cheddar, jack, or mozzarella cheese
⅓ cup olive oil
1-2 tsp salt
1 tsp Tabasco
1 tsp pepper
⅓ cup rice
½ cup water
Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit
Combine the ingredients except for the cheese and tomato
Line the bottom of a casserole dish with half of the tomatoes
Put combined ingredients on top
On top of that put other half of tomatoes
Cover with lid and bake for 1 hour 45 minutes to 2 hours
Uncover and sprinkle cheese on top. Let cheese melt.
Arlene was a part of my experience at Brown from my very first day until my very last (pictured below). I enjoyed her music theory class so much that I jumped at the opportunity to TA a portion of the class a few years later. She was always supportive and enthusiastic, while challenging us all to become better musicians. I feel truly lucky that our paths ever crossed.
I started my position at Brown in 2019, so I only had the pleasure and honor of working with Arlene for one year before her retirement. I was hired to come in as Department Chair, and so as I began my position, one of my first tasks was to get a sense of the landscape of the department. It is never enough, of course, to know one’s colleagues’ titles and official job descriptions to understand their actual role in the department. This was profoundly true with Arlene: I quickly learned from Mark Steinbach how central Arlene was to the music theory program—not just in her classroom teaching, but in her generous support of students outside the classroom. From Jen Vieira, I learned that Arlene was deft organizer, providing crucial support for staff for a number of our important events and playing a vital role in creating departmental community. From Dana Gooley, I learned that Arlene was key contact for alums, an important way in which former students kept in touch with the Music Department after their time at Brown. In faculty meetings, in discussions of our concentrators, I realized that Arlene knew them all. No other faculty member could claim to have worked with every student who came through our department. And of course, in conversations with Arlene, it became apparent that students came to her both for her rigorous musical instruction, but also as a confidant and an informal therapist. I might have been Department Chair, but Arlene held a deeper and more fundamental power. There is a reason why we all hear the phrase “Arlene was the beating heart of the department” again and again. Her grace, generosity, good humor, and love of community are and will continue to be so profoundly missed. As I have said to my colleagues: Arlene helped shaped our departmental culture— our whole community— in countless ways. The best thing we can do going forward is for each of us to try to embody even a fraction of her goodness, in an effort to keep her special spark glowing in our department.
Mary Zych shared the photo below with the following description:
Arlene Cole with students from the class of 2012. From left to right: Matthew Jaroszewicz — grad degree New School of Music, NYC now conductor of Cleveland Opera; Arthur Adams — research scientist, UC Riverside, PhD Yale University; dearest, dearest, dearest Arlene; Baxter DiFabrazio, grad MBA and J.D. William & Mary, Virginia; Professor Mark Steinbach.
Oh how they loved Arlene!!!
Arlene Cole with former students and Mark Steinbach
I can’t imagine the Brown Music Department without Arlene’s inviting and nurturing presence. As many have already shared, she was unwavering in her dedication to her students, to our success, and to our joy. I’ve been thinking lately back to advanced musicianship classes with her: Every class felt like a family gathering up on the top floor of Orwig, even when we were doing cluster chord dictations! And in the years after I graduated, I could always count on seeing Arlene whenever I returned to campus—especially at the department reception during commencement/reunion weekend, where she knew and welcomed everyone—and feeling a sense of home. I miss you already, Arlene.
Trevor Pollack ’09
Arlene Cole and Trevor Pollack at Sayles Hall in 2019
Arlene was a mentor and advocate to not only the students but also the staff. For the 20 years I worked with her, Arlene was a trusted confidante and a sounding board for new ideas and challenges to be overcome. Generous and thoughtful, she celebrated all the holidays by lavishing the staff with bags of goodies, including sharing the most delightfully decorated cookies from her sister. She enhanced my life so much more than I could ever give back, no matter how hard I tried. But Arlene wasn’t just a kind, nurturing friend to all of us; she also had some hidden business talents that might come as a surprise. She was a fierce negotiator, effectively exposing people when she perceived they were giving her less value than expected or promised. So many times I observed the changing face of a person realizing that the sweet, small woman in front of them was a secret powerhouse. She also provided invaluable guidance about hiring, teaching me to sense “haki haki,” explaining that it was the spirit of ambition, power, and drive in a person, but in a more positive sense than the usual way we think about it. Somebody would leave an interview and she’d look at me and say, “Not haki haki,” or “Haki haki!” It was the gold standard of staff hiring. Now, as Arlene’s presence leaves my physical spaces I think to myself, “Yes. Haki haki.”
Arlene was the only professor that I (and most other people I know who knew her) consistently called by her first name. She insisted on it, and I think that’s indicative of the type of relationship she’d build with her students – warm and familial. That didn’t keep her from also holding you to a high standard in her class – everyone still had to do the three part rhythm exercises! I am convinced to this day I got more redos on those than I was technically allowed for exams just because she knew I’d worked hard even when my execution was poor. I came to Brown expecting to study economics, and I can safely say that how she made me feel learning musicianship skills is why I ended up concentrating in the music department. I struggled with that decision to study music solely for my own enjoyment and not because I expected to make my career in music. Arlene helped me honor that choice, which allowed me to feel comfortable sharing it with my parents. Her sound advice drove me to ask her to become my faculty advisor sophomore year. For the record, she always did give me good advice even when I didn’t take it (looking at you sophomore fall course & activity load). I still cringe when I see people put drinks on a piano just as she would, and I have since adopted her perfect pitch policy of “not doing machines.” She impacted my life and the lives of so many others of her students for the better, and I’ll miss her very much. May her memory be a blessing to all whose lives she touched.
I was incredibly fortunate to have classes with Arlene each of my eight semesters at Brown, and while the classes got more and more challenging, Arlene’s encouraging disposition, commitment to teaching, and absolute love of the music never changed. She created a real community out of the music department and was always available to lend a hand outside of class. It was not hard to see how much Arlene really cared about each student and about the music program at Brown as a whole.
Sending heartfelt condolences to her family. This week has given me the chance to look back and appreciate how lucky I am to have had Arlene as a professor and mentor.
Charlie Blasberg ’18
Arlene Cole, Ron Sanfilippo, Charlie Blasberg, Wang Lu, and Eric Nathan at Charlie’s senior thesis performance in April 2018
It seems incomprehensible to imagine the music department at Brown without Arlene Cole being there. She was truly the heart of the department. I was privileged to have had the chance to work with her from 1990, when I first began teaching at Brown, to 2017 when I moved to the west coast to teach at Stanford University.
Throughout the years, I depended upon Arlene to identify those piano students that would make good accompanists for our student singers. She had a real instinct about which students would be suited to the task, sending me some amazing pianists whose participation greatly enhanced the musical experience for the singers in the vocal program.
When Paul and I accepted the offer to move from Brown to Stanford, Arlene personally made sure that the music department recognized the many years we had taught there by dedicating the annual graduation Jagolinzer recital to us in May of 2017. We were so touched and honored that she honored us in that way.
On a personal note, I loved Arlene’s sense of humor and hearing her distinctive laugh! And in later years, it was such fun seeing her beloved dog follow her throughout the corridors of Orwig and Morrison Gerard!
Arlene, there will not be another like you to grace the music department at Brown with the warmth, compassion, support, creativity, and love you bestowed upon your students and colleagues. You will be sorely missed.
With deepest condolences and love,
Kathryne Jennings
Senior Lecturer & Billie Bennett Achilles Director of Vocal Studies
Stanford University
Teaching Associate at Brown University (1990 – 2017)
Brown University sure was lucky to have Arlene Cole on its faculty! She was the most dedicated teacher one could imagine, whether teaching piano, or music theory, or labs, or musicianship, and she deserves this celebration! During the 28 years that I taught at Brown, Arlene was there the entire time – always completely dedicated to her students, deeply caring about how well they learned whatever subject they studied with her. I don’t recall her ever taking time off during all those years. Along with her great musical skill and knowledge, Arlene also had a wonderful sense of humor and a great laugh! During the 15 or so years that I taught MUSIC 55-56, she taught the labs for those courses, so we worked closely together for a long time. Her devotion to her students never faltered and they adored her in return.
Many of Arlene’s piano students were winners of the Concerto Competition and she would always be there for them – attending rehearsals and carefully going over the score with them and me to make sure that each performance was as good as it could possibly be. And no faculty member – except for a wonderful voice teacher named Kathryne – attended more Brown University Orchestra concerts than Arlene, and for that she’ll always have my everlasting gratitude.
But what I remember most about Arlene is her great heart. If a faculty or staff member became ill, Arlene would immediately swing into action – bringing them food or flowers or a gift or whatever would help them most in that moment. She really cared about people and that’s a huge part of what made Arlene so special in the Music Department. When I decided to accept Stanford’s offer of a professorship in 2017, Arlene swung into action once again and dedicated that year’s Jagolinzer Concert to Kathryne and me. That meant a lot to both of us and we were very grateful to Arlene for that very heartfelt gesture.
Three cheers for Arlene Cole! She was the best and I’ll miss her along with the thousands of others who have deeply benefited from her great teaching, knowledge, caring, and heart.
Warmest wishes,
Paul Phillips
Director of Orchestral Studies and Associate Professor of Music
Stanford University
Distinguished Senior Lecturer in Music
Director of Orchestras and Chamber Music
Music Director, Brown University Orchestra
1989-2017
I first met Arlene when we were students together at Eastman, and was delighted when she showed up in Providence a few years later. Arlene was a friend, a colleague, and perhaps most importantly for me, my piano teacher for many years. So I know first hand just what a spectacular teacher she was – committed, patient, effective even with me, the clumsiest of piano students, and always engaged on a human level. Like many piano students, I could not help but bring my personal life with me to my lessons, and Arlene was a confidant who helped me through more than one difficult moment, calmly hearing me out and then gently steering me back to the study at hand.
Although she seldom played in public, Arlene became a favorite performer for my music. She didn’t like performing much, so few knew how well she could play. Over the years I came to rely on her for first readings, suggestions on difficult passages and, when I could convince her, the occasional public performance. Here she is playing a Prelude I wrote while studying with her and dedicated to her. I will remember and miss her always.
I was one of those students who came to study at Brown in large part because of Arlene Cole. Arlene repaired and reignited my relationship with music – which was fraught when I arrived at Brown – helping me reconnect with the piano in a healthy and joyful way. She inspired excellence through compassion: her boundless commitment to her students could only motivate us to redouble our own commitment to our studies, whether in music or elsewhere. I continue to reap the rewards of her pedagogy – not only as a pianist, but also as an educator. I’m proud to join the community of Arlene’s students in saying thank you, Arlene, for everything.
It deeply touches me — and I’m sure many, many of Arlene’s other students — to see the outpouring of memory after her passing. Her kindness, insight, and devotion to her students was immense. I know I carry many of her lessons with me as part of who I am — everything from candid, technical discussions of how she was teaching us musicianship skills, to the way her presence and compassion could transfigure dry, demanding, sometimes embarrassing work into a gift, to regularly alerting her classes to the wonders (and ridiculousness) of the Karl-Birger Blomdahl space opera Aniara. I miss her; but I miss her precisely because, in a hundred unexpected places, I can still find the parts of myself that she shaped.
Arlene never missed an Original Music Group concert, no matter how scrappy our performances or cryptically promoted our programs. She was a fixture and defining aspect of my musical life at Brown, from day one to graduation and beyond. She is a major reason why I continued past my undergraduate studies into music academia, and is a continuing source of inspiration through her humane, joyous approach to pedagogy. She will be missed.
Frank Lehman ’06
Arlene and Frank Lehman at an Original Music Group concert in 2006
ARLENE COLE: A CELEBRATION OF LIFE
May her memory be a blessing
There are few people who have made a tremendous impact on both my life and career quite like Arlene Cole As Professor Emeritus Shep Shapiro knows, when I was taking his summer high school class in 1998, I was so homesick that I left after the first week, went home for a week, and then completed the course on the third and final week. I did not know how I would deal with my homesickness when I was accepted to be a student at Brown. I looked for different people and ways to enhance my experiences and new life, and I found a true educator, friend, support-system, and mensch… This person was Arlene Cole.
I met Arlene in the Fall of 2000. I was immediately taken by her encouraging and friendly personality. If my other wonderful professors were the bricks that adorn and unite the Orwig façade, Arlene was the foundation and mortar: always present, always ready to make sure things were going correctly in our lives and education, always challenging us. I have a visceral memory of that fall, 22 years ago, when my homesickness quickly shed being in a lovely New England city, and working with people like Arlene who made me feel that I had a new home in Providence.
Arlene was a master teacher of piano, theory, sight reading, dictation, rhythm, melody, harmony, and everything else one could possibly think of that music students would want from a Professor . She made each of our experiences a unique one, one that would cater to how we each learned. I had my own antics and humor and routine with Arlene, and I sensed it was mutual. She would deliberately trick my pitch and dictation abilities by saying: “The following dictation passage is in the key of E, as in Elgar” (she always used a composer’s name to clarify what letter key she gave us). This time, though, I thought the infallible Arlene made a mistake. She proceeded to play a piece in the key of B (“as in Bernstein”). I stopped her right then and there to complain, and she said: “I’m doing this specifically for you. I’m not letting you rely on your ear anymore to do dictation. You have to learn the intervals and note relations.” I got back a quiz that said: Aurally: A+, Enharmonically: F. Needless to say, she taught me to do it correctly, which advanced my career as an artist, educator, and writer.
I remember Arlene fondly especially at this time of year. She always loved us to do “projects” outside the music theory lab classes. We always had a big Halloween presentation. I remember writing a song one year with a pretty easy rhyme to guess: “Halloween with Arlene.” One year, I danced (yes, actually danced) to Michael Jackson’s, “Thriller.” Once I played a duet with a classmate – piano and classical guitar – a jazz arrangement of “Lacrimosa” (we hid the fact that we played it reading out of a book called “The Classical Fakebook”). What fun we had, and what a discovery I made: Arlene did not need to make classes which catered to everyone’s education and enjoyment to the extent she did, nor did she have to avail herself to her students as much as she did. She was always “on call” for a review session, or one-on-one help. Arlene once had to reschedule a review session we asked her to have with us… we found a time, and then hilariously, Arlene said, “Oh wait… that’s no good… that’s when SVU is on. But I can come in when it’s done.” I loved that honesty, humility, and personability of a teacher. I thought it was so cool. I thought the streak of purple in her hair was cool. I thought any teacher who had constant candy on her desk, and was constantly offering it, was cool. I thought tapping one foot in duple-meter, one foot in triple-meter, conducting with one hand, playing with the other, and singing in the tenor clef was absurd… but we all did it… and it was cool too. And she didn’t have to attend every musical I was music directing, but she did. She was that coolness that defines Brown.
When I became a teacher at Brown, Arlene and I would catch up on a regular basis. She loved meeting at Rue d’ Espoir. She helped me tremendously when I was putting together a curriculum/syllabus when I was asked to teach what was known as Music 40. She relieved me when she told me she writes in the note names on sheet music (if they were very high off the staff) if she missed it 3 or more times while playing. I do the same now. I emulate much of Arlene’s technique and what I received from her tutelage, 20 years later, and am happy to announce that I’ve done quite well, musically, because of her.
I don’t know what force of nature caused Arlene to move to the forefront of my mind and make me smile, fewer than 24 hours before I learned of her passing. I immediately went back to what had made me think of Arlene the day before: (Bach’s) 101 Chorales (see below). I somehow ended up with Arlene’s book, and I’m going to keep it, because there is no one I’d rather have an autograph of on this book than Arlene (Apologies to J.S. Bach). I glanced at the foreword. Walter Buszin who compiled and edited the Chorales said, “May the study and use of these chorales bring into the lives of many a better understanding of the Bach genius and spirit.” They did, Arlene (and Walter). But it was the Arlene Cole “genius and spirit” that I will never forget, and neither will my classmates, the Department, and Brown University as a whole. The school has lost a treasure. We will miss you.
Addendum:
I think it is of tremendous importance that something gets named for Arlene in Orwig, Steinert, the new concert hall, etc. I would personally spearhead the effort.
Arlene was an amazing person and a wonderful teacher, and I will forever be grateful to have had the opportunity to both know her as a person and learn piano with her. I always looked forward to lessons with Arlene, and her warm-heartedness and encouragement never failed to put a smile on my face. She critiqued, but never criticised, and did so in a way that made me want to practice more to do better the next time.
I cannot think of a time when Arlene seemed annoyed at any of her students, even in exasperating situations. Once, at the annual Piano Extravaganza duet concert, my duet partner and I decided to have a last minute practice session before we performed. However, we lost track of time and missed our performance. I’m sure Arlene wasn’t pleased, but she never got mad at us, and let us perform, even if it meant messing up the order of the program.
Arlene cared about what her students did beyond the piano—whenever I told her about my internships, computer science classes or plans to study abroad, she seemed so excited, happy and proud. I have so many fond memories when I think of Arlene: her dinners at Yan’s at the end of the academic year or after a masterclass, her enthusiasm at Friday piano workshops and the Jacquie Lawson e-cards she would send. She was a wonderful person, and I will miss her dearly.
I was a piano student of Arlene’s at Brown in the late ’90s-early aughts. I remember clearly her warmth, generosity, and sense of humor. I was a difficult student, but she was unfailingly kind and I feel so fortunate to have studied with her. She was one of the main influences on me during my college years, and gave me a much needed nudge in the right direction (out the door) after graduation—at our last lesson together, the summer after (!) graduation, she told me “and if you come back, I’m charging you for your lesson.” We stayed in touch in the decades since, visiting when I was in town, and once even at her beach home in Oceanside. I ended up following in her footsteps, teaching piano at a liberal arts college, and she continues to be a model and an inspiration in my own teaching. She’ll be sorely missed.
First of all, my deepest condolences to Arlene’s family.
Even though I did not concentrate in music, I probably spent more time at Orwig and the practice rooms (especially those basement cubicles) than anywhere else on campus.
Arlene had a way of making you feel welcome and like part of a big family. However nervous I’d be going into her office for a jury, I’d leave laughing and with some chocolates from the bowl on her desk. Sometimes we would drop in to just chat about her dogs (and also to eat some chocolates). What I especially loved about Arlene was her irreverence. Enough time has passed that I don’t remember if I heard this from a friend or directly, but she once recommended listening to Debussy’s The Sunken Cathedral while lying submerged in a bathtub.
Arlene and the applied music programme transformed my relationship with music. She and my wonderful teachers Lisa Romanul and Karen Nelson taught me how to connect with a piece on a deeper level and gave me the confidence to learn and perform. Even though I don’t spend nearly as much time at the piano now, when I play I feel free. This is entirely thanks to Arlene, Lisa, and Karen.
Arlene knew how to throw a party. The post-recital receptions at Grant were undoubtedly among the best on campus – so good that I invited myself to the grad recital at my fifth year reunion in 2017, which was when I last saw Arlene.
Arlene – Thank you for accepting this half-baked pianist into AMP, which was such an important part of my Brown years. Thank you for doing your work with the utmost joy and care. You were simply the best. Rest in peace.
My name is Frank Feldman, Class of 1977. I was a music major who, although I didn’t study piano primarily with Arlene, had the privilege of taking many private lessons with her as well as playing in quite a few of her masterclasses.
To begin with, she positively glowed as a person – radiating kindness, compassion, deeply personal emotional and musical intuition, profound emotional intelligence as a player, as a teacher, as a friend – and last, but far from least, routinely imparting profound musical inspiration, in the most artless, giving, natural, inviting way. When she would modestly play a passage I or some other student had just played to demonstrate this or that (acc. to her), it was always a deeply illuminating and frequently overwhelmingly beautiful, revelatory experience – the beauty, the fierce, strong yet always gorgeous and velvety touch, the depth, the lyricism, the profundity, the drop-dead gorgeous playing always coupled with such passion and such intelligence. And such kindness. As a pianist and a human being. She was the warmest, kindest, most compassionate and encouraging teacher in the entire department – Brown, and Brown music students, were incredibly lucky to have her.
We were in touch these past few years, and I will treasure our correspondence the way I treasure my memories of her from 45 years ago. Spending time with and learning from Arlene Cole are among my most treasured memories of Brown University.
Thank you for the opportunity to share a few of my cherished memories of her.
Arlene was one of those professors who you could come to with anything, at anytime. In fact, if she were here, she would probably tell us not to cry over her passing, but celebrate that we were able to meet and create such great memories and music together.
Arlene was one of the first people in the music department to welcome me to Brown and made me feel that I had something of my own to contribute, both in and out of her class. No matter how many times I stumbled through chord progressions, or stressed over my lack of formal training, or doubted my decisions to pursue music alongside everything else, Arlene was always there to guide and reassure me (even with all the ideas – ranging from K-pop to anime music to jazz – I bombarded her with). She always kept her students in consideration, and would send us little songs and snippets of stuff she thought we would enjoy. Even when she thought we could do better, or wanted to push us harder, she did it in a way that never brought us down and always had a smile on her face.
Her memory and presence will live on in the hearts of all the students she has lifted up. ❤️
I graduated in the class of 2016, I was in the applied music program keyboard division for 5 years and Arlene Cole was my piano teacher for all of them.
Arlene was maybe the first teacher I’ve had who genuinely put expression, emotions and interpretation above technique. She was always pushing me to dig deeper in myself to be vulnerable when performing; she could see when I was hiding behind safe or robotic interpretations of the music. She cared about my personal life and often asked about what was going on in it, and encouraged me to channel that into the music. She always made me laugh, and she made the music department feel like a home and like family. She was constantly introducing me to new and interesting music, including that of the composer Messiaen, whose solo piano works I performed at several of my recitals with her supervision. She genuinely cared about my happiness and creative fulfillment and I will miss her very much.
Sincerely,
James Stomber
Arlene Cole and James StomberArlene Cole and James StomberArlene Cole and James Stomber
My name is Susan Hasegawa, and I was Arlene’s piano student just before her retirement. My parents and I had just visited her this past June after my graduation, so we were shocked and saddened to hear the news.
Arlene was such a fantastic teacher and advisor, and I am so grateful that I could get to know her and learn from her during this time. From my private lessons through AMP and piano lab time during music theory, some of my favorite memories in college were the moments I spent with her. I will miss her very dearly.
I have also attached two pictures that I took with Arlene. One is in 2018 when I first met Arlene, and the other is in 2022 when I saw her after graduation.
Thank you,
Susan
photo of Susan Hasegawa and Arlene ColeSusan Hasegawa and Arlene Cole
My name is Francesca Zetar and I was part of the class of 2012. I took Arlene’s introductory music theory course in the summer of 2010. I remember her complimenting me on my curly hair and us sharing our love for cooking during the summer. I was just beginning to teach myself how to cook and bake and Arlene kindly shared an amazing cream cheese brownie recipe with me, which has two outer layers of brownie and a middle layer of cream cheese frosting. They are amazing! I baked them several times throughout my time at Brown and shared them with friends and colleagues where I worked at the SciLi. I recently asked her for the recipe again about 10 months ago and she kindly sent it to me again and shared with me about her battle with cancer. I was really sad to hear the news and didn’t think she would leave us so soon. She said she was continuing to make the brownies then and I thought that was really cool.
I enjoyed her music theory class so much, I pondered continuing my music theory study; however, never did pursue the subject. I felt it would be really challenging, but still think on taking it in the future and learning how to play an instrument for the first time. I recently bought a guitar and will think of her as I learn.
Arlene provided me with countless pieces of invaluable feedback during my time in the Applied Music Program even though I was never her direct student. She was the kindest professor I had at Brown and she particularly helped me overcome performance anxiety to excel at recitals. I cherished playing in front of her at the practice recitals as I would learn something new every time.
Best,
Ryan Burke
Brown ’19
Applied Music Program – Piano ’19, former student of Linda Jiorle-Nagy
Arlene was the heart and soul of my musical education at Brown. She was my most important teacher and cherished friend. I will always keep alive her elan, passion, and generosity. My deepest condolences to her family for their loss.
Arlene was the first person from Brown that I ever met. Sometime in the summer before my freshman year, she emailed me some information about the piano program. By coincidence, she mentioned that she had a second home in Southern California, and I decided to meet her there before the school year began. Already from this first meeting, I could tell that Arlene filled a role of being a mother figure in the music department.
While I was at Brown, one of my concentrations was in music. Through this and through taking piano lessons with her, I saw Arlene every week, multiple times a week. It’s all thanks to Arlene that my aural skills improved so much while at Brown; to this day, I owe much of my ability to understand melody and harmony to her. It’s also all thanks to Arlene that I explored new repertoire: for the first time I played pieces by Messiaen, for the first time I dared to play a Liszt piece in a recital, for the first time I played so many duos with fellow students. My musicality improved massively because of her.
But it wasn’t just that Arlene made me grow musically. It was also that she was just a wonderful person. She baked brownies for every recital I did. She would check on me during my lessons to make sure I was adjusting to college life. And even though I graduated years ago, she would still meet me almost every year when she would come to California, welcome my parents and I into her home, and tell us stories and make us laugh. To put it simply, it was her kindness and warmth that made her so much more than just a professor to me.
I will always think of Arlene when I touch the piano or hear a German sixth chord. But I will also always think of her when I remember my fondest memories while at Brown and beyond — when I remember the important people I have met in my life who have nurtured and cared for me as I grow into an adult. I will miss her deeply, but I feel so blessed to have gotten to know her.
I studied music theory with Arlene. I was always amazed with her graceful approach to teaching, measured in its rigor and patience. She always made coming to class a joy, taking the time to form meaningful connections with each of us and giving us the space and support we needed to tackle the difficult subject matter. Even when we showed up to labs unprepared, she would always work with us from wherever we were at and found a way to bring out the best in each student. She was a truly radiant presence and someone who always gave 100% for her students. I will miss her dearly.
Where to begin? From the first moment I met Arlene in Music 40, as I believe it was known during my first year at Brown, I was immediately drawn in by her enchanting combination of humor, warmth, irreverence, and incredible musicianship. She had a way of inspiring you to work hard and become your best self that helped you feel both pushed out of your comfort zone and deeply confident in and excited by your potential. From that first week of my time at Brown, there was truly never a moment that I wasn’t studying under Arlene’s tutelage, either in those intro music theory courses, in advanced musicianship, or taking piano lessons with her through the Applied Music Program.
During my last year, Arlene asked if I wanted to do a senior recital, and I told her I was interested, but not sure if I wanted to perform classical piano or a selection of the musical theater pieces I’d written during my years at Brown, during which theater had become, in many ways, my main pursuit. ‘Do both,’ Arlene said instantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She helped me put on what may have been Brown’s first-ever recital featuring Beethoven, Rochberg and a college undergraduate’s original music and lyrics all in one program. But that was Arlene’s genius: she saw people for who they are in all their complex potential, she never made them fit into boxes, and she didn’t mind thinking creatively about how to help her students grow and express their true selves. She is a touchstone of my time at Brown, and I will forever be grateful to have been taught and—dare I say—befriended by such a brilliant woman.
Rebecca Sigel ‘11, Jacob Combs ‘11, Katelyn Miles ‘11, Arlene Cole
Arlene was at the center of my entire Brown education. Like many fellow students, I had not planned to be a music concentrator—but Arlene won me over. After surviving Music 55-56 during my first year, I asked Arlene to be my academic advisor, which she remained for the rest of my time at Brown (ably advising me even as I pursued a foolhardy triple major). I remember hours’ worth of meetings in her tiny third floor office, snacking from her candy bowl while we discussed my course selections—or my figured bass deficiencies. After two years of musicianship I couldn’t bear to stop studying with her, so I took up classical piano lessons for the first time in my life (I still don’t know why she accepted me as a student). She was a truly generous teacher, eager to help each of us improve in the ways that we could. When I broke my arm, she guided me through a semester of one-handed piano repertoire. When I suffered a bout of stage fright at my first ever piano recital, she talked me through it (and I made it through the performance). As a junior I talked with her about writing a senior thesis—probably I shouldn’t (I said), as I wasn’t deeply invested in classical music, and after all, it’s not like I could write a thesis on sea chanteys. “Why not? Of course you can!” she replied—and I did. That thesis landed me a spot in an ethnomusicology PhD program. Now I teach ethnomusicology at MIT, and I try every day to balance the warmth, kindness, and rigorous expectations that Arlene embodied. She was my teacher, advisor, mentor, and role model, and I will miss her very much.
I remember one day in Advanced Musicianship I (MUSC1010) when I was dealing with a personal issue and feeling like the floor was being swept away from underneath my feet. I spent the entire class trying not to burst in tears. When my turn came to do an exercise we were supposed to have had prepared, I just blankly stared at Arlene and mumbled something incomprehensible. She looked at me lovingly, understood immediately, and moved on to the next person. When I spoke to her after class, she treated me not like a student, but like a daughter, with the understanding and compassion of an adoring mother.
Her way of teaching was unparalleled. Atonal music suddenly made sense! She didn’t simply teach us music, she taught us how to breathe music, and she embraced us all as if we were her family. Whenever I happened to be in Orwig, I would often pass by her office just to say hello. Her smile lit up the dull corridors and the gloomy winter days, her energy radiant and resplendent.
Thank you for everything Arlene. You will always be in our minds and hearts. I was deeply saddened by the news, but I know that heaven has received a true angel, filling the skies with melodies of the heart.
With love and eternal gratitude and admiration,
Marky Pertsemlidi
MUSC550 & part of MUSC1010
Brown ‘20 (originally ‘18)
Arlene Cole, Marky Pertsemlidi ‘20, Olivia Langley ‘19. Taken on September 6th, 2017
We are forever grateful to Arlene for instilling important fundamentals in our music career. Because her classes felt like family gatherings, sometimes accompanied by her beloved dog, we enjoyed learning and were truly invested in honing our musicianship.
As part of the non-keyboard group, I remember her extra encouragement and advice. She ensured that both keyboard and non-keyboard players have different sets of challenges. I remember vividly once when each of us had to perform solo in front of the class. This was definitely daunting for a non-pianist. After I performed a few measures of Mozart, she smiled and said, “Kangyi practices really hard!”
Arlene’s musical legacy lives on in all her students. I will always remember her smile – From my freshman year in 2006 to the Brown Reunion in 2015.
Grieving deeply,
Kangyi Zhang
Student of Arlene in freshman and sophomore years. Class of 2010.
Kangyi Zhang, Arlene Cole, and Ivan Tan during Brown Reunion in 2015.
I’m Shayna, and I was a music concentrator who graduated in 2020. I was heartbroken to see the recent post about Arlene’s passing and I wanted to add my experience to what I’m sure are a mountain of tributes and stories.
I took three of Arlene’s courses during my time at Brown – the keyboard component of 560 my freshmen spring, then the two-part Advanced Musicianship course, 1010 and 1011 over my sophomore year of 2017-2018. I remember this very fondly because it was easily one of my favorite classes at Brown. 1010 and 1011 were challenging courses, meeting three times a week for half a credit, but I always looked forward to them because I always had so much fun in them. We were consistently puzzled over atonality for a whole year, but that bewilderment soon became exciting because Arlene knew how to ensure that we were always learning from each other and laughing with each other. She was exceptionally gifted at building community, and some of the people from those classes are my best friends till this day.
She knew each of us deeply and well. She could always tell when we were doing well, or when we could be doing better. I remember sending her the ever-apologetic “I’m so sorry I can’t come to class today; I’ve been in tech for my show all week and have not slept and have fallen sick” email at least twice (definitely more than once), before submitting her assignments late. She always understood. She would then come to my shows to support me.
I didn’t think I was going to concentrate in Music when I came into Brown my freshmen fall. During the spring, I made a snap decision to see if I could place into a music class (having not taken the required course in the fall), and Arlene was one of the professors who had to evaluate me to see if it would work. I felt that she had championed me from the first day, and till now I believe that trying to place in this course and eventually taking up Music as a second concentration was one of the best decisions I had ever made. Due to her guidance, and the guidance of the rest of the professors I was lucky to have been taught by – Mark Steinbach, Dana Gooley, Wang Lu, Nancy Rosenberg, among them all – I have nothing but love and gratitude for the Brown University Music Department. The people there have shaped and uplifted me throughout my college years and far beyond.
Lastly, Arlene always made us take group photos of our classes which she always kept up on the corkboard outside her office. I have moved too many times in the past few years and regrettably misplaced it, but I know exactly what it looks like. If someone else has sent the photo in, I would truly love it if a copy could be forwarded to me – thank you in advance.
I’ll be watching the livestream of the Celebration at the end of this month. Please convey my best wishes to the whole department.
Arlene was my AMP Piano professor my freshman year (2019-2020) and we stayed in touch through COVID and up until this spring through email exchanges about music and life. I am so grateful to have had the chance to learn from Arlene’s musical expertise, and to have been one of the many students she impacted personally as well. When I took lessons with her, she held me to a standard that she knew was in my reach and did not settle for less from me. To hear her praise made me believe in myself, and to hear her feedback was always exactly what I needed to take a piece to the next level. At the same time, she was deeply empathetic and had an unwavering support for my musical interests and endeavors that went beyond being just my professor. One fond memory I have is when I had an idea to put together a performance with an artist friend. Arlene not only connected me with people that could help but showed up on the concert day and shared with me photos she took afterwards (like a proud mom). To put it simply, she was the special kind of person who truly cared for and wanted to see her students grow. I am lucky to have known her, and to have been impacted by her.
Arlene was like everybody’s “den mom” in the Brown University Music Department. She took all of her students (music concentrators and non-concentrators alike) under her wing and patiently taught us to speak another language fluently. Nobody felt inadequate in her classes, even when the exercise was reading four clefs at the piano. She was kind and generous, supportive of her music department family, and an institution who linked older generations of Brown students to younger ones. Everyone remembered and loved her, and we will every time we sit down at a piano going forward.
Arlene has been a blessing for my studies at Brown. From the first moment where she reached out to me about joining AMP before even matriculating, I was exhilarated, and she was one of the reasons I joined Brown, because I felt valued, I felt like I belonged even before being on campus.
Having played a mainly “Western” repertoire growing up, AMP was my first chance to explore pieces of piano literature less known to Western audiences, especially Turkish compositions. And Arlene not only allowed me, but supported me to explore this repertoire and express my love for the culture I grew up in. Especially when I performed “Black Earth” by Fazil Say, I remember she was against me using the con sordino technique to dampen the piano strings by touching them and damaging them with my finger oils, but still never prevented me from performing this wonderful piece. She made me feel at home, she enabled me to express my love for home and share it with others.
I am incredibly glad I was stubborn enough to take Advanced Musicianship in the last semester she was teaching it, even when it was my 5.5th class. She was a tour de force, and the love of learning she instilled in me through her love of teaching is unforgettable. She brought up our souls, and focused on our growth, even at the most difficult times.
As someone who was never formally my professor, Arlene touched my life more than I expected, more than any professor I had. I was hard to be an international student in a new country, trying to understand how to continue my love for music. And she made it all possible. I wish I told her all this. How she helped me grow. How she made me the person I am. I am still holding onto her gifts of the sheet music from Turkish pianists, Grieg and Bach’s Piano Concertos, a Dictionary of Musical Terms, and the exquisite glasswork of Hurrem Sultan, the wife of arguably the most influential Ottoman emperor.
May her kind soul rest in peace and light. I cannot thank her enough. I would love to be able to join the celebration of her life on Sept. 30th from afar, please let me know if that would be a possibility.
Before I took MUSC550 as a junior, I attended a number of my friends’ performances in the music department. Even though I had never formally met Arlene, she always greeted me like a friend and made me feel included. As her student, I found Arlene to be just as kind and encouraging an instructor. She was truly a warm presence in any context.
Thank you, Arlene, for making a most indelible impact on my life and those of so many others. At a time of upheaval, growth, and reevaluation (which college in some sense is for us all), you so generously gave us your time and time-honed wisdom. You were a consummate musician – a revered mentor – a treasured friend – a figure whose values and dedication to music and to life I will carry forward with every fibre of my being.
Xiaoyu Huang
First few bars from mvt. 2 of Piano Sonata in C major, K. 330 by Mozart
Studying with Arlene at Brown is a huge part of the reason that I’m now a professor of music history. Taking piano lessons and musicianship courses with Arlene opened me to new worlds of musical understanding. She introduced me to Mendelssohn, Ned Rorem, Aaron Copland, and countless other composers who changed my perception of how music can sound, and the work it can do. Every time I sit down to play piano today, I think of Arlene’s lessons. And every time I teach piano myself—really anytime I step into a classroom—I try and channel the unique blend of rigor and joy that Arlene brought to her pedagogy. I am in the privileged position of having a job in music that I love, in which I use the skills and philosophy that Arlene shared with me on a daily basis. But even if I had gone into a completely different field, I know I would still carry Arlene’s wisdom with me: that emotion is more important than perfection, that strength and power come from letting go, and that you can always remember how to identify an ascending fourth by thinking of the first two notes of the Wedding March from Lohengrin.
My heart goes out to Arlene’s family, the Brown University musical community, and everyone who studied with her.
Best
Nate Sloan, Brown ‘08
Assistant Professor of Musicology
USC Thornton School of Music
