JAVS Summer 1998
22
Dalton: From 1972 to the present is twenty six years. Universities seem always to be inter ested in the dropout rate of students, fresh man to senior. How many of those who started actually finished the four-year course and received their diplomas? Prier: We have graduated 131 students with a degree in violin-making, which is the same as a journeyman's degree. That's from 394 who have applied and been accepted, or about a 33 percent graduation rate. During the time our school has been in existence, we have had a few students who have completed the course in less than four years, the shortest time taken was two years and eight months. That was the case of Christopher De Groote, who really whizzed through the curriculum. Prier: He hasn't. Instead, he became a psychi atrist! Chris is exceptional, simply one of those people with lots of brains and ability. The general course is four years, but some take six years depending how much time they spend on the ski slopes in this area! There are other reasons besides the slopes why some take longer or don't complete a degree, of course. Some are not able to fulfill the demands of the course and the workload; some decide they would rather play the violin or guitar rather than make an instrument. Some marry. Interestingly, we have had students that marry each other. The late David Birkedahl and Laura Downing are one example, Michael and Carrie Scoggins another. Dalton: Of the more than one hundred who have graduated, how many of these to your knowledge find themselves in the profession of building or repairing? One wonders if there has been a place for a hundred violin makers from this school who go out and hope to find a job. Prier: Only four of our graduates that I know of are not in the field anymore. The psychia trist, a boat builder, another who became a Dalton: And where has he established himself as a maker?
the Utah Symphony got wind of the idea, among them Oscar Chaussow, the concert master, and David Freed, the principal cellist. They thought it was a terrific idea and sug gested I take the proposal of the school to the University of Utah, where they were on the teaching staf£ I wrote up the proposal outlin ing the tools I would need, how much wood, the site, etc., and took it to the proper admin istrator. He said, "Sounds like a good idea. Where are the other violin-making schools in this country?" I answered, "There are none. This would be the first." "Well, anybody can have dreams," he answered, and that was the end of that. I went home crushed, but I de cided to go ahead anyway, on my own. I bought wood, and I bought tools, and I sat down and worked out a curriculum that would have students working from 8:00 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. everyday, five days a week. I put the school in close quarters upstairs in my workshop and opened the Violin School of America on 6 September 1972. I knew that there would not be enough room, and I would have to expand. So I was able to purchase half and, eventually, the entire building next door, which is where the school has been ever since. Prier: There were four students. One dropped out, and of the other three, two were from Salt Lake City and one from Grand Junction, Colorado. These were the original three, you remember, who four years before had ap proached me about starting a school. Dalton: At the time of start-up, how long did you imagine the course to be before graduation? Prier: The same as it is today, and the same as I went through in Mittenwald, four years. I have gained renewed respect for the amount of time it takes to learn violin-making and also the benefit of hindsight in trying to make this a preparation for a profession. You really can't hurry a process where a student starts from a point of not knowing much, if any thing, about it. This is what I found out. Dalton: What was the makeup of your first class?
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