I have been a full-time musician for most of my adult life. I have not gone more than a few days without playing an instrument of some sort since the summer between my junior and senior years of high school.... and that was...gulp, about 50 years ago.
I am not famous and I am not rich, but I have a lifetime of amazing memories, many fantastic friends and colleagues in the industry, and a long history of great students that I feel very fortunate to have spent time with, and have hopefully helped along on their own musical journeys.
My earliest memories are almost all related to music. My parents had an old RCA Hi-fi in our living room. It was a magical box that would come to life with a warm glow, a comforting hum, and an enticing "electronic" smell. It emitted sounds that made the whole family smile and I was a big fan of all of it. When I was 4 years old I stood in front of that console imitating Louis Armstrong. I even kept my dad's handkerchief in my front pants pocket as a prop. Hello Dolly always brought the house down for the aunts and uncles.
Growing up Italian in NJ, it's only natural that Frank Sinatra's voice became the soundtrack of my childhood. I once asked my mom if we could "turn the volume down" as Sid Mark's radio show "Friday with Frank" blared from the living room at dinner time. She looked me dead in the eye, pointed down at the floor and said "Go eat in the basement". True story, but I digress.
My mom and dad loved to dance, so their record collection was full of great LP’s from the Big Band and swing eras. I would spend hours listening to old 78’s by Benny Goodman, Count Basie, Duke Ellington and others. And if there was someone my father admired slated to be on late-night television, he would wake me up so that we could watch them together. I can still hear my mom saying "Arnold, just let him sleep!”. Those moments were so very special and they made a huge impact on me.
I was constantly trying to make music on anything I could get my hands on, from pots and pans to toy instruments. I'd tap out melodies on glasses full of water that were left on the table after a holiday dinner, trying to imitate something I saw on Ed Sullivan no doubt. I remember watching a half-time marching band show and then seeking out an old Maxwell House coffee can with a plastic lid to drum along.
I constantly asked my parents for any sort of toy instrument they might find and they provided me with a steady supply of plastic trumpets, small keyboards, slide whistles, and harmonicas. They made the mistake of getting me a snare drum one Christmas, but later came to their senses and allowed me to order a beautiful wooden Hohner recorder with a few leftover books of Green Stamps (look it up kids). By the way, the snare drum is long gone, but I still have the recorder.
There is one event from my childhood that looms larger than any other and accounts for why I chose saxophone as my main instrument when I had the chance. When I was 7 years old my mom sent me to get a haircut at "Uncle Lou's". Lou Cipriano was my godfather and a barber by trade. I'd walk over to his shop that was about a half mile from our house and he'd cut my hair. On this particular occasion I was walking home with a "fresh do" and happened upon what must have been a Memorial Day parade.
As I made my way closer to the marchers, a magical sound caught my ear. I inched closer to catch a glimpse and stood mesmerized as a line of army veterans wearing period fatigues, complete with the flattish, "dough-boy" helmets, and brown boots laced up to just below the knee, approached. They were playing (what I now know as) curved soprano saxophone and I still get chills remembering that moment. It was as if the Universe was saying "Oh, you like that? Well that's just fine because you will be doing that exact thing for a very long time".
The distinct sound of those horns leapt into my ears and traveled directly to my core. I vividly remember how stunning, interesting, and beautiful I thought the saxophones were, and I knew instinctively that I could play that instrument if given the chance. I'm sure I stood in awe for many minutes until the men passed out of earshot. But that sound, on that day, has stayed with me my whole life.
A few years later my family moved from New Jersey to Massachusetts and the public school there had a robust music program. So mom, dad and I visited Robinson's Music on a Saturday morning to pick out an instrument. Mr Robinson pointed out the trumpets, clarinets, French horns and his favorite "The slide
trombone!". But there was not a chance in hell that I was leaving the store, on that day, without a saxophone.
I had wonderful teachers and mentors along the way and I enjoyed my time in concert band, marching band, and jazz band. They are some of my most cherished musical memories and I remain in touch with many buddies from those days, some of whom still make music an integral part of their lives. That's a huge testament to our teachers who encouraged us at every level.
As I mentioned up front, there was a short time between my junior and senior year of high school that I just put the horn down and was unsure if I wanted to play any more. But who was I kidding? My academics were woeful (I still don't get math) and music was one constant in my life. I distinctly remember my dad taking me aside that summer and saying "You want to quit? It's up to you. But God gave you a gift." And that really struck a chord with me as I was reminded of those soldiers marching by all those years ago.
I decided to attend the Hartt School of Music at the University of Hartford where I received a Bachelor’s degree in Music Education. I never desired to teach in a school system and instead opted to teach privately and pursue a playing career. You've probably never heard of me and that's fine. I have a wonderful studio full of students and get to play with a bunch of great musicians in and around the Dallas area where I make my home.
With all of the distractions available today, I am happy to report that people of all ages still have the desire to learn saxophone, often after experiencing a musical moment like the one I had. I have a small YouTube channel where I post videos about once a week. I don't edit or add any special effects and almost every one was done in “one-take” so you’ll hear some goof ups now and again. I simply try to present that same, pure sound that I heard when I was 7 years old outside of Uncle Lou's barber shop, with the hope that I might encourage folks on their own musical journey.
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