You Can't Go Back Again..... Or Can You? An Essay On Memories and Interlochen

 

Interlochen National Music Camp Main Campus

 

 

We all have one. A place.

A special place that was meaningful in some way.

A place where we spent time with other people and built memories.

What happens when you return to such a place? 

Are you transported back in time? Do you relive those old memories? Are they bitter or sweet or a little of both?

I took such a trip last week and it was, indeed, bittersweet. 

Some background....

In the summer of 1978 I was a lonely, artistic kid graduating from a junior high school vaguely akin to those schools in The Blackboard Jungle. A lot of gangs, a lot of drugs, several pregnant girls, and about  80%  of my class was not planning to go to college. 

As someone who wasn't any of those things,  I had a pretty small circle of friends.

My father had spent a couple summers at the Interlochen National Music Camp and felt strongly that I would benefit from a summer there.

So my parents scraped up the required tuition, which was a significant amount, and shipped me off to the woods of northern Michigan for eight weeks.

EIGHT WEEKS!

I was pretty nervous, I can tell you. My previous record for time away from home was two weeks at Girl Scout Camp. 

I could not fathom what it was going to be like to spend two whole months away from family

Not to mention my nervousness about meeting a whole new set of people. And not just any old people. TALENTED people. In many cases VASTLY TALENTED people. (The official term, then, in all the Interlochen publicity materials was "gifted youth" - we all got a lot of laughs throwing that term around)

I needn't have worried. Within one week of my arrival, I knew I had found my people. My tribe. The set of peers that could keep me sane. 

When you are feeling alone and unique in the world, there  is no better remedy than suddenly meeting a whole flock of folks who share your interests and have a similar world outlook. Knowing that there are others like you  - even if they are miles away the rest of your life - can help you through the tough times. Especially the teen age tough times.

I would spend a total of five summers at Interlochen. Three as a high school camper and two as the Harp Faculty Assistant/Practice Supervisor.

Last week I took my son up there to work (he has a job for the summer as a member of the lighting crew).

I had booked a room in the Stone Hotel so that I could split up the driving and also take time to get him settled. Which meant that I had two days to wander the campus and really drink it in. At times my son accompanied me around the place and at other times I explored alone. It was pretty deserted, as camp was not due to start for another full week.

In the thirty-four (yes THIRTY FOUR) years since I first set foot on the Interlochen campus, a LOT has changed. Many buildings have been torn down or renovated beyond recognition and several new buildings have been added.

And while I am happy for the institution itself - I know that all these changes mean the place is doing well - the powers that be are slowly erasing the camp that meant so much to so many of us. 

A particularly bitter loss is that of graffiti. Yes, you heard me, graffiti. The living and practice spaces of Interlochen are literally plastered with the names, dates and pithy sayings of thousands of folks who have spent time there in the camp's alomost almost eighty five year history.

And some of those names are big. I mean BIG. 

There is an amazing feeling you get when you are putting in your hours of practice in a room covered with the names of giants of your instrument and knowing that they sat in this very room - THIS VERY ROOM - thirty years before you.

If you played a something large like harp or tuba or timpani, you didn't practice in the regular practice cabins. Instead your instruments were housed in "huts" behind the open air stage known as "the Bowl". 

Sometime in the 1990s the decision was made to tear all those huts down and move the instruments to "nicer" quarters.  When I saw that those cabins had been removed, I actually teared up a little. My name, and all the names of my fellow harpists for over 60 years were just gone. Erased. As if we never existed. 

I was able to show my son the first cabin I lived in - thankfully still housing the graffiti of myself and fellow 1978 cabin mates. (Liz "spiffy" Spier, if you are reading this, your name is still there! And Alison Cohen 1974 - your approach of plastering your name across every square inch of your living space has paid off. You are still everywhere!)

I said earlier that the experience was bittersweet

 While walking around, I found myself having an odd reaction to the new buildings and renovated grounds. They are truly spectacular spaces and a vast improvement to the camp. Instead of crooked, worn wooden benches that could give you a splinter, there are shiny, stable seats mounted on secure railings. Everywhere you look there are state of the art facilities.

Why was I so nostalgic for the army surplus crappy jeeps and metal cafeteria trays? And cabins full of spiders? 

The only answer I can come up with is that, to truly relive a memory, you need the place of the memory to be as close to its original state as possible. You cannot completely immerse yourself if too much has changed. 

Also, memories made in the company of other people are sweetest when they are relived in the company of folks who were originally  there with you. Without them, the memory cannot fully come to life. The true  power of it remains tantalizingly out of reach. 

Worse is attempting to explain those memories to the  new friends or family who have accompanied you to your nostalgic spot. Try as they might to share your enthusiasm for this special place, they can really only politely humor you.

Still, I'm glad I returned. Bittersweet or not, Interlochen is still truly special place and I will carry my summers there with me always. 

(End Note: - I will be visiting the campus again the last weekend in July. If you were there with me in 1978, 79, 80, 81 or 82 - and you are planning on visiting at the same time - let me know!)

Here is a scrapbook of sorts for fellow alums to enjoy - I have not taken pictures of the new buildings, only my old haunts:

Main Camp looking down the avenue of dorms. HU 4 is now officially Picasso House.

 

 

They still have a few of the old benches scattered about the place...

 

Main Camp looking towards Kresge - the new, "safe" benches are everywhere. I have to admit they are an improvement :-)

 

 

The Melody Freeze still looks the same, complete with payphones. I wonder if any of today's campers have seen payphones before? Or use them?

 

 

"The Bowl" with its new improved, non crooked, seating and a lovely brick "patio" in front of the bushes.

 

 

The roof of the bowl shot from inside, on the stage. They have obviously rebuilt the roof and reinforced it with steel but it still looks much as I remember it.

 

 

THIS is more like I remember the place, old, dirty and full of charm. Those doors at the back of the risers open up during Les Preludes and several musicians sit back there and play. Especially the timpani.

 

 

View of the improved Bowl seating from the stage as if you were principal flute. It's an amazing thing when you are playing and that place is full.....

 

 

I know I'm spending too much time on this but I cannot overstate the improvement in the seating at the bowl. It used to be quite tricky to walk up and down on a muddy day.

 

 

THIS is the asphalt I remember! This used to be in front of the bushes and when I was a dancer during Les Prludes, I had to kneel on this. Excruciating!

 

 

Thought I'd throw in this 1956 picture of Les Preludes. You can see the dancers all taking their poses - including on the roof - and the 12 harps stretched across the front of the stage. I danced once and harped twice. The roof was too fragile in 1978 to put dancers up there.

 

 

A more modern Les Preludes after they rebuilt the roof and it could support dancers again. I still get chills every time I hear this piece....

 

 

The gaping hole behind the bowl where the harp and tuba huts used to be. One year we had a party there for the stage crew for carrying our harps all over campus. We bought them donuts...... We also made halos and wings out of coat hangers and aluminum foil and wore them during Les Preludes rehearsal. We stored them in a hole in the ceiling sort of like a time capsule. They surely wound up in a landfill :-(

 

 

 

The front of the dance building. It has changed very little in 34 years.

 

 

The back of the dance building - again, almost untouched by time. I spent hours and hours in this building my first summer.

 

 

The main dance rehearsal room. I'm so happy they still use live piano instead of recorded music for class.

 

 

Stairway to the lower rehearsal rooms and dressing rooms. I include it as an example of what most of the buildings used to look like. Unlike the spiffy spaces they have today. I suspect this building will also be "updated and improved" before long so I was happy to get back inside it one more time.

 

 

Kresge Auditorium as viewed from the stage. One of the more modern buildings when I was there, It also is virtually unchanged. This is where I saw Count Basie and Maynard Ferguson and so many other huge acts. This summer it will host Steve Martin, Styx and Bill Cosby.

 

 

The concrete stage in Kresge - we also performed dance concerts here in 1978. This floor gave me shin splints :-(

 

 

A view of Kresge stage from the side. It is an auditorium that feels open and closed at the same time due to the open air design at the sides.

 

 

The catwalks where my son is surely hanging lights for all the shows

 

 

The stage windows overlooking Green Lake

 

 

The back of Kresge with those same windows. This is where all the sailboats are kept for Stone Beach

 

 

In my day the sail room was run by a guy named Dana. I can't remember the rest of his name - he was just Dana. One day the stage crew picked up his cute little yellow convertible and wedged it between these two trees. He was not pleased.

 

 

Stone Hotel Beach. Again, unchanged

I took many more photos but that's probably enough :-) I'll put together a facebook album eventually.......

 

Comments

[Roger E. Jacobi]

FANTASTIC! I have not been there in a looooooong time. At 88 years of age, I do not plan on returning because ----YOU SHOULD NEVER GO BACK (so they say!

Thanks for the visit --- I truly enjoyed it.

Roger Jacobi

[Anne Morse Hambrock]

Dr. Jacobi,

I'm so glad you enjoyed this piece! Interlochen is such a part of the person I became and your stewardship while I was there is most certainly part of the reason! Thank you for all your hard work to make the camp what it was when I was there.

Anne

[Anne Morse Hambrock]

Dr. Jacobi - I don't know if you will see this comment but both my parents had you at the University of Michigan. John Morse - my dad - was one of Louis Stout's horn students and my mother was Nancy Frye, a choral major. They remember you very fondly!

[Lancelot Lovejoy]

Splitting hairs, perhaps, but HU-4 is actually PICASSO House, not Piccolo House. Enjoyed the essay very much.

[Anne Hambrock]

Lance,

Thanks for the correction, I'll fix it!

Anne

[Mark Powell]

I agree with Dr. Jacobi,
Though I'm very thankful for your time and photos Anne. One can't go back. But I have, much like Adso of Melk in The Name of the Rose, tried to create small piece of Interlochen, my Interlochen, the one that exists in my head, wherever I am. Now that I'm in western New York, in the woods, that task is a bit easier.
Anne this was a beautifully written piece. Change is not always good, particularly if it erodes the foundations of a place or institution. The demise of challenges has taken a very big toll on the overall quality of the ensembles. I well remember Peter Hadcock's graffiti in my cabin and thinking "THAT'S the guy in the Boston Symphony!!!!!!!" He was here! Doing what I do!
So, here's a "Sound the Call" to all my fellow gifted youth, who do more in less time, and who carry on the Interlochen spirit, in every thought, and word, and deed.

[Lynne Hsu Xavier]

Anne, thank you for this. I had almost the same experience when I went back to visit camp about 5 years ago. It is indeed bittersweet to see all of the changes, some for the better (I agree with you that the Bowl's seating changes are a great improvement), and some for the worse (I personally mourn the demise of ubiquitous dark blue corduroy; and does anyone monitor the length of some of those girls' shorts these days?!).

But two of your observations resonated especially. First, your feeling when you first went to NMC that you had finally found your tribe, your people. Second is the impossibility of sharing/explaining that experience and that place with people who have never attended NMC. I was fortunate in having visited camp with my sister who was also a NMC camper. As wonderful a person as my husband is, I'm glad he didn't come with us, because of the second point I mentioned above.

Thanks for writing this blog entry. Loved it!

[Sally Lansdale]

When I was there in the late 1960s a group of us "hung out" on Sunday afternoons at the picnic tables around the Melody Freeze. When I went back for a Bonnie Raitt concerts a few years ago, that's the first place I went. I teared up a little when I saw it. And yes, like you, whenever I hear Les Preludes, I cry.

[Essay Type]

This is really great.Thanks for sharing this with us.Keep on making such a great post.

[Research paper writing service]

i like of all these pictures.

[Steven]

These are great photos. I was a camper in 1989 (IB) and a counselor in 1995. I was amazed how much had changed in those few years; I couldn't imagine what it would be like were I to go back today! The Tuba Hut: gone! How sad.

Also, I still get chills when I hear Les Preludes, too.

[John Morse]

I know I would not have persued a musical career were it not for the 3 years I spent at Interlochen, 1952 and 1953 HSB (band and orchestra) and 1958 HSB counsellor. During the few visits I made in later years, I experienced exactly what Anne did.

John Morse
(Anne's dad)

[Paul Karne]

I was a camper from 83-87 (IB and HSB) and worked in the theater department in 89. They were some of the best years of my life. I hope to send my alighted there next summer, but it scares me to see all the changes. That said, I'm glad the graffiti hasn't left the cabins. I tear up when I hear Les Preludes too and have fond memories of performing in it. Thanks for the reminders.

And I fondly remember shaking Dr. Jacobi's hand at their annual reception.

[David Honig]

Whenever I hear "God save..." I think "... the tubas, because nobody else will." Graffiti in the Tuba hut, circa 1977. NMC '71-'78.

[David Honig]

And it is marvelous to see something from De. Jacobi after all these years. I was a camper when he took over, and have a picture of meeting him, a young camper, soaked with rain and shaking his hand.

[James Petersen]

Nice essay

Yes you can go back and sometimes, it's very worthwhile. My celloson first encountered the 1200 acre bubble as a camper. He subsequently graduated from the Academy in 2009. Since then, he's returned twice as a Counselor, Lifeguard, and Sailing Instructor. Each time he returns, he learns something more about himself.

[Anne Hambrock]

@david,

Sadly dr. Jacobi passed not long after his comment posted above. I am so honored to know he read the piece and enjoyed it!

@James,

Yes, I also went back on staff and then a few times within the 5 or so years after my time there as a camper. But the real challenge comes when you stay away for a long period like 20 years. Then it can be rather a shock to the system :-) I' m so glad your son is remaining connected.

[Ben Mundy]

Very nice read. Yes, time is often the enemy of an authentic memory. Alas. I was blown away to go back to photos from 1975 and see Howard Hanson conducting WYSO. What a thrill that must have been!