I wanted to take a moment to remember my dear undergraduate teacher, Walter Schwede, who passed away last month.
I first met Mr. Schwede when I was eleven, and he’d come down to play Vivaldi’s Autumn with my youth symphony. At first glance, his height, dignified manner, and playing were a little imposing. But as I got to know him over the years as a guest clinician and ultimately my teacher, I can definitely say that Mr. Schwede was one of the kindest and unexpectedly goofy musicians I’ve met.
My music is filled with hand-drawn cyclops faces, smiling babies, and silly stickers that Mr. Schwede would add to tricky passages to ease the stress and help us stay grounded. He had a story for every occasion and technical challenge–to this day, I can hear him recounting the parable of the Centipede’s Dilemma and how overthinking could get in my way.
And as soon as we’d hit January, Mr. Schwede would remind us that Groundhog’s Day approached–the high holiday in the studio year. I don’t know when he started celebrating Groundhog’s Day with students, but I remember him saying that we all needed a little cheer in the dark days of winter. He was right, of course! I think we all enjoyed the novelty of it, and each year, his studio gained a few more pieces of Groundhog paraphernalia–stuffed animals, balloons, and handmade cards.
On a personal note, I’m incredibly thankful for Mr. Schwede’s unwavering belief and support throughout my struggles with injury and chronic pain. He taught me how to practice efficiently and get the most out of the five minutes of practicing I could handle in the worst of my pain. I don’t think I would have persevered through everything if not for his patience and encouragement.
In the days leading up to his passing, I was grateful to reconnect with my studio mates and reminisce about the funny stories and things we learned in lessons.
It reminded me how much we carry our teachers with us. Their techniques, practice strategies, stories, mannerisms, jokes, catchphrases–we find ourselves passing them on to the next generations of students.
I always say “have a good one” at the end of lessons in honor of my late teacher, Kent Coleman.
And for Mr. Schwede, I’ll be keeping Groundhog’s Day alive, sharing stories of centipedes, and giving my students his harmonic finger exercise to lessen finger pressure.
Thank you, Mr. Schwede. We miss you.
If this is the first time we’re meeting virtually, hello! My name is Erika, and I’m a violinist, teacher, and certified Franklin Method Educator. My mission is to rethink traditional teaching approaches to help musicians play with confidence and ease.
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You can connect with me through my website or contact me directly at erika@erikaburnsviolin.com and Instagram.