Ann Howard Jones

One of the interesting opportunities that has come my way in retirement from Boston University (2016) is invitations to join other faculties to teach for colleagues who would like to have a sabbatical leave from their home institution. When such an invitation came to replace an esteemed colleague for a semester at a small liberal arts college, I was eager to help and accepted.  One day early in that tenure, I was sitting in my studio thinking about the rehearsal I was about to conduct when there was a knock on the door. I opened the door to a student who sang in the choir and who held a position of leadership in the ensemble. After we exchanged pleasantries, he took a deep breath and said, “Dr. Jones, you could be meaner in rehearsal.” I was completely taken aback by what I judged to be his impudence and impertinence. Not wanting to sound defensive, I decided to say nothing that would reveal my discomfort. Instead, I thanked him for his comment, sent him on his way, and spent many hours thinking about the encounter, concluding that it was going to be a long semester if “meanness” was part of the expectation the students held for our time together. Upon reflection, I also think it is possible that I misconstrued his comment and missed an opportunity to talk with him about what he meant. It is likely that he thought I needed encouragement to be more demanding, or to be more challenging.  

This led to the larger question of what did the singers require of the conductor of the choir. Did they expect to be afraid of incurring the conductor’s wrath? And what would they have to do to stay in the leader’s good graces if the negative and fearful attitude was the prevalent one. Most importantly, how did they sing freely and beautifully in that frame of mind? And the larger question is, of course, what are the desirable qualities of leadership that are important to me and that I hope to project. “Meanness” is very likely not going to be on the list. 

The list is, in fact, a short one. I used to say that there were three most important things for a conductor to bring to the ensemble: a great ear, a vivid imagination, and the ability to get the people sitting in the ensemble to do what is asked of them by the conductor and the score. In the last ten years or so I have changed the last item to be less about compelling a response than about cultivating a trust so that the musicians feel I will provide what they need, and that I feel the musicians will be trusting of me to feel free to offer their best in the service of the music and the community effort.

It is my fervent hope that I can model high standards in score selection and preparation, scholarship, service and performance. That I can bring positive energy, high enthusiasm, strength, skill, and commitment to our collective effort, and that I will thereby build empathy and trust in the students. Of course it is imperative that I insist on excellence and that the process of rehearsal gives the musicians the tools necessary to achieve that excellence.

Here are some of the inspiring words of others that have helped shape what I hope is my enduring legacy:

The poet Mary Oliver, in her instructions for living, talks about the need to “pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it.” She also admonishes us to “keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.”  

I love this from Theodore Roosevelt who wrote in 1910 in a speech to students attending the Sorbonne in Paris “… who spends (himself/herself) in a worthy cause, who knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and at worst, if (he/she) fails, at least fails while daring greatly.” From “The Man (Person) in the Arena”.  

Finally, the pre-eminent conductor Robert Shaw once wrote, “…(music) is the persistent focus of (our) intelligence, aspiration and good will.”  

It is my hope to demonstrate my passion for the music, my love of the students, my desire to build community, my belief in the integrity of the process, and my insistence on excellence. I hope that I embody the essence of the motto of a university where I once taught, “Having light (I) pass it on to others.” These are trying times; we need one another and music gives us an opportunity to join with others in a collaboration that can bring benefits beyond the ordinary and allow us to engage together in a noble effort. This is the most important thing I hope I can offer the student.

Ann Howard Jones is Professor Emerita in the School of Music at Boston University (retired 2016) where she was responsible for the highly regarded graduate program in choral conducting. Dr. Jones was the Assistant Conductor for Choruses to the late Robert Shaw in Atlanta, and she conducted the chorus of high school singers for BU’s summer Tanglewood Institute. Widely recognized as a distinguished clinician, teacher and conductor, she was awarded a Fulbright professorship to Brazil, a lectureship for the Lily Foundation, and was recognized by ACDA, NCCO, Chorus America, Choral Arts New England and Boston University for her outstanding teaching, service and her exemplary contributions to the profession.