Copyright ® 2008
by Michael Ferris
I was 17 when I started playing the guitar. Born in a small town in Michigan and not coming from a wealthy family, this
is the story about how I went to Europe to get my M.A. in Guitar, having had a world-renowned artist as a teacher. In
telling this story, I feel that it could encourage others to try to realise their dreams and never give up.
I started playing so that I could demonstrate the guitars in order to sell them at my father’s small music shop in
Michigan. After learning my very first song and being able to change between chords, I felt I was ready to go to a local
café to sing and play at an open-mic night. This turned into a complete disaster, for I was the youngest person there in
the midst of people that had been playing for several decades. Embarrassingly enough , the day of my first grand
performance a string broke…
Four weeks passed and I went back again. After desperately begging, the director allowed me to play once more, only
to see everyone applauding my performance afterwards. It was incredible.
With the will to become better, I started lessons with a rock guitarist. Having been a fan of guitar technique, he told me
to buy a copy of Eliot Fisk's 24 Capricci by Nicolo Paganini. According to him, it was an example of the best technique
ever. Putting in the disk and hitting play was the very first time that I had ever listened to classical guitar, it being the
most beautiful thing I had ever heard. From that point on, it had been my desire to play that type of music.
Therefore, I called a local college, only to find out that I was too young to attend courses. In desperation, I called the
guitar teacher at another university. Due to my determination, he taught me personally. That is when I met Samuel
Kaligithi, my first classical guitar teacher, whom I consider to have been one of the best I’ve ever had. Teaching me not
only to play, he taught me to love the instrument, which in my opinion constitutes one of the hardest challenges for any
teacher. Practicing several hours a day, I improved at a great rate. Shortly after, I was even asked to play for a master
class with David Tanenbaum.
Just about to graduate from high school, it was my intention to study locally. Samuel, on the other hand, suggested
going to the Academy for Music and Applied Art in Vienna, having been a student there himself. He told me that living
and studying in another country would broaden my horizons, learning not only music but also another language and
culture. Yet, due to my family’s financial situation, this seemed completely out of reach.
Samuel made it all happen, assuring me that studying in Europe was possible. To prepare, I started taking a beginning
music theory class, a German class, and played a solo concert. In my concert programme, I had written that it was my
wish to study with Sam’s former teacher, Konrad Ragossnig, in Vienna. I was 18 years old and everything was falling
into place.
Vienna, Austria, home to great composers and musical masterminds, and there I was amidst this great city in June
1995, not even knowing how to get from the airport to the city. Going by what Sam had written on a piece of notebook
paper to guide my way, I was overwhelmed with the fact that the German language was everywhere. Although being
incredibly prepared, I realized how unknowing and young I had truly been.
On the day of the exam, it occurred to me how completely ignorant I was to guitar exams in general, much less in a
foreign country. Entering the stage through a back door, I wanted to greet all the professors staring at me. Therefore, I
got off the stage and shook their hands, introducing myself and trying to make a good impression. This had been quite a
surprise to the judges. Realizing my mistake, I will never forget how the person whom I was trying to impress,
Ragossnig, just sat looking at me with disapproval. For an Austrian, what I had unintentionally done was just plain rude.
I got up onto the stage again and waited in anticipation until I was told to play. After only two bars of playing, I was told
to stop. Ragossnig had just looked at the concert programme I had played in America and misunderstood my English,
assuming I had written on it that I could undoubtedly study under him, whereby I had only expressed that it was my
mere wish. I came to my own rescue and corrected him. Instead of this helping the matter, he asked me to leave. This
was the most disappointing day of my whole life. In fact, it had almost been the end of my dreams.
In despair, I went back to where I was staying and met a woman who worked there. Having only spoken German, it was
in that very moment that I can attest the proof of God’s existence. For some strange reason, although my German was
very poor, I understood everything she said as if it had been English. She told me that there were other schools. In my
broken German, I expressed that I would be willing to do anything, just not go home a failure. She called the
Mozarteum Academy for Music in Salzburg and signed me up for the following entrance exam in October, giving me
hope.
I will never forget arriving back to the US and looking into my father’s eyes, which were full of discontent. He almost
fell back in his chair when I told him of my plans to go back to Austria again, whereby I found out later how proud he
was that I had the courage to make such a decision.
Although Sam had moved away, he was kind enough to put me in the hands of another teacher, Jerry Zubco. One of his
strengths was to prepare people for entrance exams. He gave me a lot of pointers, teaching me where I had made my
errors in Vienna.
At the exam in Salzburg I played my heart out. The judges asked if I wanted to study with ‘Eliot’. Due to his absence, I
would have had to play for him again to be considered. From the indisputable voice coming from the committee, I knew
they had not only accepted me, but were faced with the question who would be my teacher. My intuition told me to seize
the chance and I left the choice up to them. I only found out afterwards that they were talking about Eliot Fisk, the
reason I had started playing guitar.
I started my studies with Maria Siewers, a famous Argentinean classical guitarist. Although very knowledgeable, her
teaching methods were not right for me. I learned a lot from her, yet somehow we never connected. I ended up breaking
off my studies after only one year. It was just too much pressure; learning a new language, being away from home,
studying the hardest I could.
After a short time, I made the decision to continue with the intention of changing teachers. I called Eliot Fisk and he
briskly said that he had no room for me in his classes. Afterwards, I must have coincidentally run into Eliot in the city at
least four times, impressing upon him not to say no to me without at least hearing me… I will never forget what he said
after playing for him for the first time. He told me, “Michael, you have absolutely no technique, but you play with so
much feeling that 10 per cent of your playing is absolutely beautiful.” For several years after that, he proved not only to
be a great teacher, but very good friend. I could write another five pages about how kind and generous he has been to
me. Yet, the most important thing he taught me had to do with getting an insight into his concert career. Being
successful at the guitar does not only mean playing at the most prestigious concert halls, but also playing for outreach
programmes for disabled children, the elderly, and the needy. This for me will always be Eliot Fisk, the embodiment of a
true musician and a true inspiration.
Eliot’s promise to make me a guitarist became a reality. Samuel Kaligithi, my very first guitar teacher, made the trip to
Austria to be there at my final concert and see me get my master’s degree. He was right there with me when he said
that studying abroad would broaden my horizons. In fact, it even made my dreams come true.
If you liked this story, you'll love the book, Crossing Borders
by Michael Ferris
I was 17 when I started playing the guitar. Born in a small town in Michigan and not coming from a wealthy family, this
is the story about how I went to Europe to get my M.A. in Guitar, having had a world-renowned artist as a teacher. In
telling this story, I feel that it could encourage others to try to realise their dreams and never give up.
I started playing so that I could demonstrate the guitars in order to sell them at my father’s small music shop in
Michigan. After learning my very first song and being able to change between chords, I felt I was ready to go to a local
café to sing and play at an open-mic night. This turned into a complete disaster, for I was the youngest person there in
the midst of people that had been playing for several decades. Embarrassingly enough , the day of my first grand
performance a string broke…
Four weeks passed and I went back again. After desperately begging, the director allowed me to play once more, only
to see everyone applauding my performance afterwards. It was incredible.
With the will to become better, I started lessons with a rock guitarist. Having been a fan of guitar technique, he told me
to buy a copy of Eliot Fisk's 24 Capricci by Nicolo Paganini. According to him, it was an example of the best technique
ever. Putting in the disk and hitting play was the very first time that I had ever listened to classical guitar, it being the
most beautiful thing I had ever heard. From that point on, it had been my desire to play that type of music.
Therefore, I called a local college, only to find out that I was too young to attend courses. In desperation, I called the
guitar teacher at another university. Due to my determination, he taught me personally. That is when I met Samuel
Kaligithi, my first classical guitar teacher, whom I consider to have been one of the best I’ve ever had. Teaching me not
only to play, he taught me to love the instrument, which in my opinion constitutes one of the hardest challenges for any
teacher. Practicing several hours a day, I improved at a great rate. Shortly after, I was even asked to play for a master
class with David Tanenbaum.
Just about to graduate from high school, it was my intention to study locally. Samuel, on the other hand, suggested
going to the Academy for Music and Applied Art in Vienna, having been a student there himself. He told me that living
and studying in another country would broaden my horizons, learning not only music but also another language and
culture. Yet, due to my family’s financial situation, this seemed completely out of reach.
Samuel made it all happen, assuring me that studying in Europe was possible. To prepare, I started taking a beginning
music theory class, a German class, and played a solo concert. In my concert programme, I had written that it was my
wish to study with Sam’s former teacher, Konrad Ragossnig, in Vienna. I was 18 years old and everything was falling
into place.
Vienna, Austria, home to great composers and musical masterminds, and there I was amidst this great city in June
1995, not even knowing how to get from the airport to the city. Going by what Sam had written on a piece of notebook
paper to guide my way, I was overwhelmed with the fact that the German language was everywhere. Although being
incredibly prepared, I realized how unknowing and young I had truly been.
On the day of the exam, it occurred to me how completely ignorant I was to guitar exams in general, much less in a
foreign country. Entering the stage through a back door, I wanted to greet all the professors staring at me. Therefore, I
got off the stage and shook their hands, introducing myself and trying to make a good impression. This had been quite a
surprise to the judges. Realizing my mistake, I will never forget how the person whom I was trying to impress,
Ragossnig, just sat looking at me with disapproval. For an Austrian, what I had unintentionally done was just plain rude.
I got up onto the stage again and waited in anticipation until I was told to play. After only two bars of playing, I was told
to stop. Ragossnig had just looked at the concert programme I had played in America and misunderstood my English,
assuming I had written on it that I could undoubtedly study under him, whereby I had only expressed that it was my
mere wish. I came to my own rescue and corrected him. Instead of this helping the matter, he asked me to leave. This
was the most disappointing day of my whole life. In fact, it had almost been the end of my dreams.
In despair, I went back to where I was staying and met a woman who worked there. Having only spoken German, it was
in that very moment that I can attest the proof of God’s existence. For some strange reason, although my German was
very poor, I understood everything she said as if it had been English. She told me that there were other schools. In my
broken German, I expressed that I would be willing to do anything, just not go home a failure. She called the
Mozarteum Academy for Music in Salzburg and signed me up for the following entrance exam in October, giving me
hope.
I will never forget arriving back to the US and looking into my father’s eyes, which were full of discontent. He almost
fell back in his chair when I told him of my plans to go back to Austria again, whereby I found out later how proud he
was that I had the courage to make such a decision.
Although Sam had moved away, he was kind enough to put me in the hands of another teacher, Jerry Zubco. One of his
strengths was to prepare people for entrance exams. He gave me a lot of pointers, teaching me where I had made my
errors in Vienna.
At the exam in Salzburg I played my heart out. The judges asked if I wanted to study with ‘Eliot’. Due to his absence, I
would have had to play for him again to be considered. From the indisputable voice coming from the committee, I knew
they had not only accepted me, but were faced with the question who would be my teacher. My intuition told me to seize
the chance and I left the choice up to them. I only found out afterwards that they were talking about Eliot Fisk, the
reason I had started playing guitar.
I started my studies with Maria Siewers, a famous Argentinean classical guitarist. Although very knowledgeable, her
teaching methods were not right for me. I learned a lot from her, yet somehow we never connected. I ended up breaking
off my studies after only one year. It was just too much pressure; learning a new language, being away from home,
studying the hardest I could.
After a short time, I made the decision to continue with the intention of changing teachers. I called Eliot Fisk and he
briskly said that he had no room for me in his classes. Afterwards, I must have coincidentally run into Eliot in the city at
least four times, impressing upon him not to say no to me without at least hearing me… I will never forget what he said
after playing for him for the first time. He told me, “Michael, you have absolutely no technique, but you play with so
much feeling that 10 per cent of your playing is absolutely beautiful.” For several years after that, he proved not only to
be a great teacher, but very good friend. I could write another five pages about how kind and generous he has been to
me. Yet, the most important thing he taught me had to do with getting an insight into his concert career. Being
successful at the guitar does not only mean playing at the most prestigious concert halls, but also playing for outreach
programmes for disabled children, the elderly, and the needy. This for me will always be Eliot Fisk, the embodiment of a
true musician and a true inspiration.
Eliot’s promise to make me a guitarist became a reality. Samuel Kaligithi, my very first guitar teacher, made the trip to
Austria to be there at my final concert and see me get my master’s degree. He was right there with me when he said
that studying abroad would broaden my horizons. In fact, it even made my dreams come true.
If you liked this story, you'll love the book, Crossing Borders
| The Story of How My Dreams Came True |
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| Book "Crossing Borders also available as an ebook |
| Book "Crossing Borders also available as an ebook |