I was a teenaged kid clutching a pair of claves — two wooden sticks — on stage at an international music festival. There was nowhere to hide.

With four of my fellow North York Percussion Ensemble musicians, we got ready to perform “Pieces of Wood” at a packed concert hall at the University of Western Ontario.

The composition by Steve Reich introduces and develops a rhythmic theme, syncopated through five performers as each joins in. There is also interplay between the different tone and pitch of each pair of claves.

Usually, us drummers are holed up at the back of the band. We are part of the bedrock of a musical composition, holding and advancing the rhythm, but often hidden behind cymbals, massive copper tympani, music stands, or even tubular bells.

On this day, I felt a little more exposed. I recall my forearms tightening up with nerves before we went on stage. But we had practiced the piece and our program relentlessly.

A rhythmic river

The sound of each clave striking its pair is enriched by cupping the palm under the receiving clave — to create a small echo chamber. Reich’s composition unfolded beat by beat into a rhythmic river, echoing throughout the hall. Hypnotic for us performers, and for the audience.

Our musical mentor and percussion guru was Glenn Price. Many of us had taken drum lessons with him. Then he raised the bar by establishing a percussion ensemble at his high school, Toronto’s Victoria Park Collegiate. While studying music at the University of Toronto, he expanded the group into regional collective, bringing together percussionists from many North York public schools. We performed across Toronto and at music festivals including the Kiwanis.

Glenn drove us to experience maximum percussion.  That meant going beyond traditional instruments such as a snare drum, to a medley of keyboard instruments such as the xylophone, and learning the music theory, chords, and melody techniques behind them.

Instruments in the percussion family create a palette of musical sounds and textures. “Bells ring, raindrops fall on water and deep chimes sound when these kids get  together,” wrote Mirror reporter Linda Reed in a feature article about the ensemble.

As we practised in advance of concerts, Glenn scrounged percussion instruments from several high schools and his own personal collection to loan to us so we could practice at home — I recall a checklist of vibraphones, marimbas, glockenspiels and other instruments in constant circulation with our group. Glenn and his girlfriend Debbie would ferry us to concerts, cramming musicians and various percussion instruments into old station wagons.

Musical fusion

Maximum percussion also meant bridging classical, latin, pop and other musical forms. It meant rehearsing and performing to achieve the synergy of an ensemble.

A violin bow resonates a Turkish cymbal

“We benefited from the discipline of practicing regularly as a group with a very organized and professional teacher,” recalls Ward Cornforth, a percussion compatriot and former member of the ensemble. “I think what I gained the most is the love of performing publicly — the excitement and feedback from the audiences,” said Ward. He also recalls a U.S. road trip with the ensemble, including participation in a drum clinic at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, NY.

Ward went on to a lifetime of musical performance, most recently as the lead singer and guitarist in a Johnny Cash tribute show — We Walk the Line. Ward added that lessons learned from the ensemble have carried on to the next generation in new ways — his teenaged daughter is pursuing track and field. Her family ensures she has full support as a member of a high-level team.

Glenn certainly pushed us to find new musical opportunities — for me, that meant playing with the North York Concert Band, a gig with at the Canadian Opera company’s summer dinner theatre house band, and touring Ontario with our high school rock band, Bruce the Moose. After university, my percussion performing waned, but I picked up the guitar and piano for fun, and continued to appreciate percussion in any music I listened to.

The beat goes on

Through social media, many of my percussion ensemble musicians reconnected, and had glimpses of how music became a thread in our lives. Rob G. and Tracey recently formed a duo — Hush and Rust — putting new spins and moods on classic songs. Both continue to write and perform original music. Sue shared a video of an all-women band she had just joined as drummer. Ward was touring with his tribute band, channelling 1960s-era Johnny Cash. In the footsteps of two musician parents, Tony’s daughter had become a singer-songwriter. She had recently asked her Dad to play drums on two new tracks in the studio. Barry was subbing in as a blues drummer in the UK, while his son was drumming for a dynamite rock band in Europe. Rob P. was hosting and playing in jazz jam sessions at a coffee shop he owns. And Nick’s daughter sang gorgeous jazz vocals.

Meanwhile, our mentor Glenn had continued his career as a music educator and conductor internationally, inspiring many generations of musicians. He is now Conductor and Director of Performing and Visual Arts at California Institute of Technology (Caltech).

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On stage at the international music festival on that day in the late 1970s, my forearms had loosened up. The house was packed with musicians from 40 countries at that event, organized by the International Society of Music Education.

Our ensemble was in the zone, arms and hands flying. Reich’s “Pieces of Wood” built to a percussive climax, a wall of sound. Then it ended on a dime — to stark and serene silence.

The audience came out of its trance. A flood of applause. The forearms tingling.

Vintage poster from a show we performed at Seneca College’s Minkler Auditorium