Fred Hersch ’77, Doctor of Humane Letters
Fred Hersch ’77 received an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters at Grinnell College Commencement 2016.
About Fred Hersch ’77
Hersch is a pianist, composer, and one of the world’s foremost jazz artists. He is described as “one of the small handful of brilliant musicians of his generation” by Downbeat magazine. A member of the jazz studies faculty at the New England Conservatory of Music, Hersch received a 2003 Guggenheim Memorial Fellowship for composition and numerous Grammy nominations. He was awarded an honorary doctor of humane letters degree.
Acceptance Speech
Good afternoon. I'm delighted to be here. I am a jazz musician. I make my living by making things up on the spot, so I do not have prepared remarks. I hope I do not come to regret that. It says class of ’77. However, I was here exactly one semester. It was the fall of 1973.
My best friend was looking at Grinnell, and I decided to go with him. In the spring of ’73, I had prepared to audition for a number of major music schools as a classical pianist, but I knew my heart was not in it. I decided to go to Grinnell and I say it is probably the best non-choice I ever made in my life. I honestly figured that if I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do with my life in the middle of Iowa in the middle of winter I would never figure it out. That proved to be the case.
So many important things happened to me here in that three months. Just walking past the bookstore, back then LPs were three for $10. I discovered all kinds of music, not just jazz, but world music, contemporary music. I played chamber music for the first time, and in a strange way that led me to play jazz because I loved the idea of playing collaborative music with others.
My first day in my political science class, my teacher came in a jean jacket and blue jeans. I can't remember his name, but he said call him by first name and he said, “The electoral and Constitutional process is rigged. They'll never be substantive change. It’s all designed by the status quo. No revolution is possible in the manner of Howard Zinn.” I also had an amazing piano teacher whose name was Cecil Lytle, an African-American man, who is not just a jazz pianist. He was a specialist in the music of Franz Liszt. He had me read one of the seminal books on jazz black music by Mary Amiri Baraka. I began to listen to everything from Cecil Taylor and Pharaoh Sanders to Weather Report and Chick Corea. I began to feel like perhaps this is something I can do. I can get around the piano pretty well. I know a lot about theory and so on and so forth.
Another extremely important thing that happened to me was in 1973, 1974 was the year of the energy crisis. Grinnell worried about heating the school during the winter break. It was a very extended winter break. I think six weeks, maybe, or seven weeks. I went to back to Cincinnati, my home town. I stumbled into a jazz club. I sat in, and it changed my life. I decided then and there I was going to devote myself to this art form. I came back here, packed up my things, and left.
I will say my exit was rather dramatic. My entrance was rather dramatic. In August of 1973, I drove with my friend, Ron, from Cincinnati in a large rented station wagon with all of our possessions in it, stereos. Remember those, stereos? Everything. In those days, we did smoke pot. We were rather stoned. Ron was driving, and we were probably going 95 in a 70, and we were pulled over in Bloomington, Illinois, and I spent a night in jail. I arrived to school a day late and in wretched shape, but was, of course, welcomed.
Other things that happened to me is for the first time I saw two gay students walking through the campus holding hands. This was 1973. It was very powerful for somebody coming from Cincinnati who knew he was gay and had never seen examples of this kind of behavior. It was very affirming.
As I said, my exit was was rather dramatic as well. Driving home in the winter of ’73, there were six of us in a 1963 Buick Electra which was one of the biggest cars ever made. A dog, that's very important, the dog. We went into a snowdrift, spent about six hours there, but we had the dog to keep us warm, and we also had a bottle of Jack Daniels. Anyway, I had the privilege of playing last year with my trio in Herrick Chapel. It was great to be back here for first time since 1973. This is an extraordinary place.
One more thing, I learned to drink coffee here. You have this beautiful Rosenfield Center. We have what was called The Forum which was not quite as glamorous, but coffee was 10 cents for the first cup and five cents a refill. For 25 cents, you could really get quite a little buzz which was useful for late night studying.
Anyway, it's an extraordinary place. I do have a sense of the kind of personal and high quality education that you have received. I wish all of you luck. Have fun. As I get older, I've now turned 60, I realize that fun is a huge, huge thing. Serious fun, I think, is a good motto. I wish all of you the best in whatever you choose to do, and I'm super honored to be here today. Thank you very much.