Testimonials

Professional violinist and violin instructor, Meghan King, shares her thoughts on why she decided to study with Professor Shapiro...

Casey McGrath speaks of her time with Professor Shapiro in an excerpt  from
Performance Anxiety Strategies:
​A Musician's Guide to Managing Stage Fright

One of the most valuable things specific to music study is the role of a private teacher. While I can't speak from experience of parallels in other disciplines, I rarely practice a similar opportunity for weekly, one-on-one time with an expert in the field. And being that music is such a personal, emotionally driven endeavor, we often find that our musical mentors provide just as much guidance in performance practice as they do in living a purposeful life.

I met my first teacher in my late teens. His name is Jesus Florido, and he held an adjunct position in music at the university where I rehearsed for youth symphony. I approached him one night and asked if he could teach me Vivaldi's Spring concerto because I hoped to go into music. To his credit, he didn't laugh, though he rightfully should have: I hadn't had private lessons until then and so remedial that he had once commented to my conductor after hearing one of my auditions, "If you cover your ears, she's great!" 

Admittedly, my sense of rhthm was embarrassing. I couldn't play in tune, and most of the time, I had no idea what note was coming out of my violin. But Jesus taught me anyway, and though I was far too behind for a timely conservatory audition, I did end up being accepted to his alma mater, Butler University, where he passed me onto the colorful, dedicated, and most patient soul I've ever known, Larry Shapiro. 

Larry is the kind of teacher who didn't flinch when I told him I had no idea was 4/4 meant. He waited without exasperation for me to bring a metronome into my practice room. He observed over my shoulder as I played, pointing out tiny solutions and responding with a knowing shrug when it remedied each respective technical impairment. With every performance breathrough, he would fold me into a path-affirming hug, offering his congratulations for every single baby step forward, be it poise and assurance than ever. He never looked surprised, just quietly validated--it was all part of the process, he advised me early on, of becoming the musician I was destined to be. And while I know I still had--and continue to have with each new goal--an overwhelmingly challenging climb before realizing my musical aspirations, the uncompromising encouragement Larry provided at that pivotal time will invariably heal my spirit from what has already proven to be a ruthlessly distressing process. 

When I graduated with my doctorate, I wrote him a letter of thanks, saying, 
​
I could barely stay in one key or count my way through six measures, but you encouraged me despite all of my technical shortcomings, all of my self-doubt and negativity, all of the moments any other teacher who have rightfully written me off...Whenever I solo with an orchestra, I always think about how impossible it would have been to get there without you. I knew exactly two pieces of reptertoire when I came to you, but you believed in me anyway. 

​To which he responded, "Of course I always believed in you: With your passionate emotional instrument, incredible, intensity, dogged determination, how could I have done otherwise?" 

Larry Shapiro was not just a teacher--to me, he was a lighthouse, a beacon to remind me of everything worth pursuing in this world, including the dreams we have when we are still too young to consider logic and limitation. To have crossed such intimate paths with a person who celebrates the wealth of good in every moment and every student, to have had to privilege of spending a short but formative time in the company of someone with so much faith in his heart that he inspires those around him to cultivate their own, I was more than lucky--I was blessed. And while I may have many more failures and moments of question ahead of me, I need only think of my early years with Larry to reason with dejection, take a deep breath, and put my violin back under my chin where it belongs.