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INFORMATION DRAWN FROM: "A Moment In Time: Surviving Child Abuse"
Chapter 12: - Title: "Money {That's What I Want}"
To his credit, Randy worked hard to correct his musical deficiencies, and
committed to learning everything possible about percussion in theory and
practice.
He started taking drumming lessons with Chuck Flores. Randy used his
scant band experience, the Flores connection and the promise of Murray
Spivack's instruction in the offing when writing to President Remo Belli
of Remo Drum Company, seeking employment. [Belli, like Louis Bellson,
had been a student of Murray Spivack. Spivack and Bellson had invested
in the Remo Drum Company at its startup, and reaped enormous profits as
a reward for their foresight.]
It worked! He got the job.
Hired at Remo, Randy willingly performed all sorts of tasks. He proved
to be such a good worker that the company promoted him to research and
development.
There, he helped bring out pinstripe drum heads and custom-created drum
heads from fiber. Soon after he started work at Remo, Randy wrote Murray
Spivack to inform the teacher of his changed circumstances, hoping to
impress the drum guru with his dedication to learning every aspect of
percussion. He was on a roll: not long afterward, Randy received the
phone call he'd been waiting for. It was Murray Spivack, and he was
ready to instruct the would-be drummer now, in May of 1976, a good two
years earlier than expected. Randy was excited, because he knew Murray
could provide the musical knowledge he needed to succeed in his
avocation.
What he didn't realize was that the teacher would also serve as
something else Randy been searching for all his young life, something
that
would be vital to his mental survival: a father figure.
INFORMATION DRAWN FROM: "A Moment In Time: Surviving Child Abuse"
Chapter 13 - Title: "Learn to Listen"
By the time twenty-year-old Randy Fowler hooked up with him in May 1976,
seventy-two-year-old Murray Spivack had already enjoyed a long and full
life encompassing three successful careers as musician, sound technician
and teacher.
Born September 6, 1903 in Kiev, Ukraine, Murray as a child came to the
United States with his family. (Younger brother Charlie Spivak, also a
musician, would later become trumpeter with the Dorsey brothers, Bob
Crosby, Jack Teagarden and his own orchestras).
The new immigrants settled in New Haven, Connecticut, where Murray took
up drumming. He began playing professionally at age 12. In the decade
that followed, he became house drummer at the Strand Theater, worked for
radio station WOR, and opened his own teaching and recording studio in
the Gaiety at 46th and Broadway in New York. Murray refined his playing
techniques in study sessions with New York Symphony timpanist Carl
Glassman, Capitol Theater drummer Dave Guiskoff and mallet virtuoso
George Hamilton Greene. He was the star pupil of bass drummer-cymbal
player and drum maker Billy Gladstone.
By his mid-twenties, Murray's talents (he was also one of the first
performers to broadcast and to record on vibraphone) were in such great
demand he was making $500 a week at a time when a Model T Ford cost less
than $300 to own.
In 1929, Murray was lured to Hollywood, becoming head of the
sound-effects department at RKO. It began what would be a more than
forty-year association with the movie industry. Spivack served with
great distinction as sound designer and engineer, sound-effects man,
mixer and in other hands-on or supervisory capacities.
He was a founding member of the Cinema Audio Society and was later
inducted into the Percussive Arts Society's Hall of Fame.
Spivack devised all animal sounds for the early classic, King Kong. He
worked on more than 25 films in all between 1933 and 1973, including
such stand-outs as: Son of Kong - Flying
Down to Rio - The Lost Patrol - Laura - South Pacific - Spartacus - The
Alamo - Cleopatra - My Fair Lady - The Sound of Music - The Sand Pebbles
- Doctor Doolittle - Hello, Dolly! - Patton.
In his time with RKO and with 20th Century Fox
after 1938, Murray Spivack became well respected as an innovator and as
a consummate professional. The industry recognized his achievements with
two Academy Award nominations, and he won an Oscar for Hello, Dolly!
Meanwhile, to keep his hand in drumming, Murray started teaching again,
and quickly gained attention around the Los Angeles area for his
excellence in instruction.
In years that followed, his reputation for molding drummers into peak
shape grew to international proportions. Spivack is today widely
credited with serving as the individual most responsible for shaping
modern techniques of teaching snare and drum set instruction.
By the time he received his newest student,
Randy Fowler, Murray Spivack had already trained what would, to
cognoscenti, read as a virtual Who's Who of classical, rock, and jazz
percussionists: Walt Goodwin, Bobby
Colombi, Louie Bellson, David Garibaldi, Gordon Fry, Rick Difazio, Wally
Snow, Jack Varga, Chet Ricord, Mark Leon, Chuck Flores, Richard P.
Wilson, Gordon Peake, Brooks Wackerman, Gary Ferguson, Christiaan Oyens,
Carlos Vega, Joey Heredia, Bob Economou, Daniel Bejarano, John Wackerman,
Vinnie Colaiutu, Walfride de los Reyes, Alvin Stoller, William Kraft,
Chuck Silverman, Joey Preston, Bill Carpenter, Chad Wackerman, Mark
Sanders, Roger Rampton, Frank Epstein, Ralph Collier Remo Belli, Frank
Clayman Cook.
The majority of students came to Murray because he
was an acknowledged master at getting a drummer's fingers and hands in
shape.
It didn't matter how long you'd been playing or how successful you were.
If Murray took you on, you became saturated in his comprehensive,
disciplined approach, customized for each student's particular needs--or
you got out. He'd make you relearn basics: how to hold the sticks, how
to make a stroke, the mechanics of percussion, fundamentals of speed,
force and direction. You'd get lots of practice perfecting rolls, flams,
ruffs and drags. And you'd exercise the body part most important to
drumming: your brain.
Though an eager pupil (he'd quit the Blue Jays to concentrate on
lessons) Randy Fowler was hampered at first by the horror of his private
hell and by his indifferent attitude towards education. He wasn't
accustomed to studying or attuned to a regimen of daily practice. He
wasn't yet on Murray Spivack's wavelength.
Lack of preparation showed in his playing. In November 1976 Murray
called Randy on the carpet for it. The master told the pupil: "If you're
not going to do this right, you might as well become a carpenter or a
plumber."
The blunt words stung, but gave Randy much to think about.
Is this what he really wanted?
Did he have the talent to be a pro
musician?
Was he willing to do everything necessary to achieve his goal?
He decided the answer to all questions was "Yes."
It was time he got serious about his craft.
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