About This Season’s Cover

This year’s program cover was drawn by Gil Eisner, a New York illustrator, cartoonist, and painter, who began spending family summers in Norfolk in 1980.

Ever since we arrived in Norfolk thirty years ago, a special pleasure has been coming to hear the summer concerts. The music is always wonderful, but an additional attraction for me is the intimacy of the Shed. From the seats on the side I can see both the audience and the musicians. There is a choreography in music making, a kind of ‘body English,’ that changes moment. Years back I began to bring a small sketchbook with me to the concerts to see if I could capture it. If I noticed someone in the audience who was particularly transported by the music – and there were many – I’d draw them, too. And whenever I didn’t have my sketchbook, I’d use the program.

So you could say I’d decorated the program for years when I got a call from Paul Hawkshaw asking if I might do artwork for the coming summer’s program. I was delighted and began to think on the nature of Norfolk’s music. Clearly, one elevating part of the Norfolk Music Festival is that it is also a school. I began to wonder about teaching music at such a high level. What is the relationship like between a gifted teacher and a gifted student? What happens when dedicated students come together to make music? I asked Paul if I might sit in on some classes and make sketches.

One wintry afternoon, in the Leigh Building at the Music School at Yale, I waited with my host, Deanne Chin, outside a heavy wooden door until the music inside stopped. Deanne knocked and we entered. Four heads were turned. A student trio class was in progress. I was introduced with a brief explanation of why I was there. My apology for interrupting felt insufficient, but their generous good spirit put me at ease. Bill Purvis, in whose paneled classroom we were, offered me a freshly drawn espresso from the maker on his desk. The students resumed playing with such intensity, it was as though I wasn’t there. Being so close to this sudden burst of music actually took my breath away. I had to settle myself for some moments before I could open my sketchbook.

I had the privilege to sit in on other classes, one taught by the Tokyo’s longtime violist Kazuhide Isumura, and another given by Martin Beaver, the Tokyo’s first violinist. At the end of his class, as we were all saying goodbye, I had yet another unexpected thrill. Mr. Beaver was putting his violin away. I knew it was a Stradivarius and asked if I could see it, expecting to look at it inside its case. He handed it over. As I held his violin, it was as if I’d stepped into the batter’s box at the World’s Series with the bases loaded – an instant connection to the history, mystery, and legend in my hands – it was an unforgettable moment. What a day!

Thank you Paul, and all.
– Gil Eisner