Two older Austrian ladies, must have been in their 60's, came to my rescue. They took me
by the hand and bought me a train ticket from the airport into the city. Upon my arrival in
Downtown Vienna, following instructions my teacher had given me on a piece of notebook
paper, I was just overwhelmed. It was just all so GERMAN, everywhere I looked there
were signs written in German!! I know this may seem ignorant, but I really had somehow not
expected it to that great extent. I, of course, could speak a little, having proven to have a
talent for the language at college, thanks to Mrs. Renate Pennington, my German teacher,
who really went that extra mile for me. Just imagining now what I was like with that piece of
notebook paper in my hand still makes me laugh. On it were things written such as, "Exit
train, turn left, go straight until you see a bus station. Take bus 26 to Kargran." It was just
hilarious, but at the time, I took it all so seriously. I found the place where I was to stay,
which Sam had arranged for me. They expected me to have sleeping bag, which I didn't
have. I went out into this suburb neighbourhood looking for a sports supply store. I had no
concept of how big such a city like Vienna could be. After getting lost, having an
unsupportable jet- lag, and above all, not even finding a sleeping bag, I lay down on my
suitcases and just fell into a deep sleep.
In the morning, everything seemed a lot clearer to me. I started practicing and went and
found out where the music school was. I was determinably going to pass the entrance exam
and get into that school. When the day came, I realized that I had no idea how an entrance
exam actually took place, not even in my own country, much less in Austria. When I was
asked to enter onto the stage through a back door, all of the professors were staring at me.
Wanting to greet them, I got off the stage and shook all of their hands introducing myself,
trying to make the best impression possible. This was definitely a cultural "don't" in
Austria. A few of them did not even stretch out their hand. I will never forget how the
person, whom I was trying to impress most, just sat looking at me repugnantly. For an
Austrian, what I had done was just plain rude. Of course, that is not how I meant it. I got up
onto the stage again and waited dumbfounded until they yelled to me, "Begin!" After only 2
bars of playing, Konrad Rogassnig told me to stop and asked me, "Here on the programme,
you wrote that you can study with me!" Konrad had, of course, misunderstood my English.
He understood what I had written, namely that it was my wish to study in Vienna under
Konrad Ragossnig to mean I had told everyone in the audience that I had already been
accepted by him. I came to my own rescue and corrected his English. Big mistake... He told
me, "RAUS"(Get out of here!) As you can probably guess, my success did not start here.
This was the most disappointing day of my whole life, in fact, it was as if all of my dreams
and my life were about to end.
I went back to the church where I had been staying, where I met a woman who worked
there. She came into my room and saw me sobbing my eyes out. She only spoke German. It
was in that very moment when I can attest the proof of God's existence for certain. For
some strange reason, although my German was very poor, I understood everything she said
as if it had been English. She kept impressing upon me that there were other schools; that
the school in Vienna was not the only one. She told me that she was originally from Salzburg
and that there was a wonderful school there. In my broken German, which she was
miraculously able to understand, I told her that I would be willing to do anything, just not go
home a failure. She called the Mozarteum University in Salzburg and signed me up for the
next entrance exam in October. There was hope again. I couldn't wait to get home and tell
my parents. Having heard what had happened, they were so worried and incredibly sad. I
will never forget arriving home and looking into my father's eyes, which were full of
discontent. In spite of this, I told him of my plans to go back to Austria again. He almost fell
back into his chair in shock. At the time, I thought he had just considered me been insane to
try again, whereby I found out at a much later date how proud he was to have had the
courage to make such a decision.
I started my studies with Maria Isabel Siewers de Pazur, a very talented classical guitarist
from Argentina. She was a very nice woman, but her teaching methods were a bit too harsh
for me. I stress that this statement regards me and people like me alone. She is actually a
renowned teacher, but at the same time, a single teacher cannot possibly be a good teacher
for everyone. I wish I knew then what I know now. That is when I also learned the
difference between positive and negative reinforcement. In North America, a teacher is
more willing to tell you how good you are, in hopes that you get better and work harder,
whereby in Europe and in South America it is the opposite. It is better to tell you how bad
you play so you work harder. This works for some people, but not for me. I had an
incredibly hard time with it to the point that I broke off my studies after only one year. It
was just too much pressure, learning a new language, being away from home, and not even
enjoying the lessons, the reason for which I was even there. After a few months at home, I
decided not to throw it all away and went back. I wanted to change teachers. I wanted to
study with Eliot Fisk.
To make a long story short, I called him and he briskly said that he had no room for me in
his classes. I did not stop at that. In the following days, I must have coincidentally run into
Eliot in the city and at the university at least 4 times. I even ran into him at the post office. I
impressed upon him not to say no to me without at least hearing me play once. He agreed.
After playing for him, I will never forget what he said. These words will be burnt into my
head for an eternity. Well, Michael, you have absolutely no technique, but you play with so
much feeling that 10 % of what you play is just so beautiful!" For several years after that,
he has proven to be a great teacher, a wonderful inspiration, and a very good friend. I could
write another five pages about how kind and generous he has been to me. He stuck through
it with me to the very end, until my diploma was in my hand.
I'd like to close on the fact that Samuel Kaligithi, my very first guitar teacher, made the trip
to Austria to be there at my final concert. He was so proud of me. He was right when he said
that studying abroad would broaden my horizons. I not only learned the language and the
culture, but even found the love of my life and am now happily married to a beautiful
Austrian. When I think back, it is difficult to decide which of my dreams were made into
reality. I never forgot the goal at hand, loving music and playing for the better good.
2
by the hand and bought me a train ticket from the airport into the city. Upon my arrival in
Downtown Vienna, following instructions my teacher had given me on a piece of notebook
paper, I was just overwhelmed. It was just all so GERMAN, everywhere I looked there
were signs written in German!! I know this may seem ignorant, but I really had somehow not
expected it to that great extent. I, of course, could speak a little, having proven to have a
talent for the language at college, thanks to Mrs. Renate Pennington, my German teacher,
who really went that extra mile for me. Just imagining now what I was like with that piece of
notebook paper in my hand still makes me laugh. On it were things written such as, "Exit
train, turn left, go straight until you see a bus station. Take bus 26 to Kargran." It was just
hilarious, but at the time, I took it all so seriously. I found the place where I was to stay,
which Sam had arranged for me. They expected me to have sleeping bag, which I didn't
have. I went out into this suburb neighbourhood looking for a sports supply store. I had no
concept of how big such a city like Vienna could be. After getting lost, having an
unsupportable jet- lag, and above all, not even finding a sleeping bag, I lay down on my
suitcases and just fell into a deep sleep.
In the morning, everything seemed a lot clearer to me. I started practicing and went and
found out where the music school was. I was determinably going to pass the entrance exam
and get into that school. When the day came, I realized that I had no idea how an entrance
exam actually took place, not even in my own country, much less in Austria. When I was
asked to enter onto the stage through a back door, all of the professors were staring at me.
Wanting to greet them, I got off the stage and shook all of their hands introducing myself,
trying to make the best impression possible. This was definitely a cultural "don't" in
Austria. A few of them did not even stretch out their hand. I will never forget how the
person, whom I was trying to impress most, just sat looking at me repugnantly. For an
Austrian, what I had done was just plain rude. Of course, that is not how I meant it. I got up
onto the stage again and waited dumbfounded until they yelled to me, "Begin!" After only 2
bars of playing, Konrad Rogassnig told me to stop and asked me, "Here on the programme,
you wrote that you can study with me!" Konrad had, of course, misunderstood my English.
He understood what I had written, namely that it was my wish to study in Vienna under
Konrad Ragossnig to mean I had told everyone in the audience that I had already been
accepted by him. I came to my own rescue and corrected his English. Big mistake... He told
me, "RAUS"(Get out of here!) As you can probably guess, my success did not start here.
This was the most disappointing day of my whole life, in fact, it was as if all of my dreams
and my life were about to end.
I went back to the church where I had been staying, where I met a woman who worked
there. She came into my room and saw me sobbing my eyes out. She only spoke German. It
was in that very moment when I can attest the proof of God's existence for certain. For
some strange reason, although my German was very poor, I understood everything she said
as if it had been English. She kept impressing upon me that there were other schools; that
the school in Vienna was not the only one. She told me that she was originally from Salzburg
and that there was a wonderful school there. In my broken German, which she was
miraculously able to understand, I told her that I would be willing to do anything, just not go
home a failure. She called the Mozarteum University in Salzburg and signed me up for the
next entrance exam in October. There was hope again. I couldn't wait to get home and tell
my parents. Having heard what had happened, they were so worried and incredibly sad. I
will never forget arriving home and looking into my father's eyes, which were full of
discontent. In spite of this, I told him of my plans to go back to Austria again. He almost fell
back into his chair in shock. At the time, I thought he had just considered me been insane to
try again, whereby I found out at a much later date how proud he was to have had the
courage to make such a decision.
I started my studies with Maria Isabel Siewers de Pazur, a very talented classical guitarist
from Argentina. She was a very nice woman, but her teaching methods were a bit too harsh
for me. I stress that this statement regards me and people like me alone. She is actually a
renowned teacher, but at the same time, a single teacher cannot possibly be a good teacher
for everyone. I wish I knew then what I know now. That is when I also learned the
difference between positive and negative reinforcement. In North America, a teacher is
more willing to tell you how good you are, in hopes that you get better and work harder,
whereby in Europe and in South America it is the opposite. It is better to tell you how bad
you play so you work harder. This works for some people, but not for me. I had an
incredibly hard time with it to the point that I broke off my studies after only one year. It
was just too much pressure, learning a new language, being away from home, and not even
enjoying the lessons, the reason for which I was even there. After a few months at home, I
decided not to throw it all away and went back. I wanted to change teachers. I wanted to
study with Eliot Fisk.
To make a long story short, I called him and he briskly said that he had no room for me in
his classes. I did not stop at that. In the following days, I must have coincidentally run into
Eliot in the city and at the university at least 4 times. I even ran into him at the post office. I
impressed upon him not to say no to me without at least hearing me play once. He agreed.
After playing for him, I will never forget what he said. These words will be burnt into my
head for an eternity. Well, Michael, you have absolutely no technique, but you play with so
much feeling that 10 % of what you play is just so beautiful!" For several years after that,
he has proven to be a great teacher, a wonderful inspiration, and a very good friend. I could
write another five pages about how kind and generous he has been to me. He stuck through
it with me to the very end, until my diploma was in my hand.
I'd like to close on the fact that Samuel Kaligithi, my very first guitar teacher, made the trip
to Austria to be there at my final concert. He was so proud of me. He was right when he said
that studying abroad would broaden my horizons. I not only learned the language and the
culture, but even found the love of my life and am now happily married to a beautiful
Austrian. When I think back, it is difficult to decide which of my dreams were made into
reality. I never forgot the goal at hand, loving music and playing for the better good.
2
| The Story of How My Dreams Came True Page 2 |
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