Nathalie Ghent Obituary

1933 - 2006
Nathalie Ghent, Violist

Nathalie (Gudkov) Ghent, of New York, died on Sunday, June 4th, 2006, of a cerebral hemorrhage, at St. Vincent's Hospital in Greenwich Village. She was 74.

Born in Paris, France on February 12, 1933, to Marie Cavos and Valentin Gudkov, she began early violin studies at the age of 4 with Ivan Galamian at the Russian Conservatory in Paris. Following the outbreak of World War II, Nathalie and her family immigrated to New York where she continued her violin studies at the Juilliard Preparatory School with Dorothy De Lay and Galamian who had recently immigrated to America. She also began studying viola, drawn to the richness of the viola's deeper sonorities, with William Kroll and Hans Lenz, and developed a life-long love of chamber music during summers spent as a string quartet coach at Meadowmount, in Westport, New York. Nathalie graduated from the High School of Music and Art in 1951 and entered Sarah Lawrence College as a scholarship student, graduating with a B.A. in 1955.

Nathalie worked extensively as a violist in the New York musical world. She was a member of the American Symphony Orchestra under Leopold Stokowski, the American Ballet Theater Orchestra, the New Jersey Symphony, the New York Opera Orchestra, and the Queens Symphony. Together with Gerard Schwartz, the current music director of the Seattle Symphony, she founded the Soho Ensemble, a chamber group dedicated to the performance of contemporary music in art galleries throughout downtown New York. She was a prolific composer of music for young ensembles, writing "The Eternal Song" in 1955 for students at Sarah Lawrence College, "The Gold Hat" in 1963 for the Joan of Arc Junior High School Orchestra, and many other works with a distinct pedagogical bent such as "Ode to Pythagoras", "A la Schradiek", and "Homage a Katchaturian". In 1980, her compilation of original duets for two violins, "Who's On First?" was published by General Music Publishing, and in 1995, Hildegard Publishing, a company devoted to works of women composers, published "The Angel", a cantata for voice, violin, and viola with Synclavier, set to Lermontov's poem. For 56 years, Nathalie was also a beloved teacher to hundreds of private students in violin, viola, and piano.

After retiring from freelancing, Nathalie began to teach music in the New York City Public School system, first as a substitute teacher, and then at P.S. 120 in Bushwick, Brooklyn. When funding for music programs was cut, she taught kindergarten and first grade, but she continued to weave music into the curriculum through her 12 original songs, "Music through History", which introduced major figures such as Columbus and Lincoln in imaginative and easy to sing songs that the students at P.S. 120 loved.

Nathalie's two marriages, to Harold Morris, and to Emmanuel Ghent, ended in divorce. She is survived by three daughters, Nadia, Valerie, and Theresa, and three grandchildren, Grady Locklear, and Sara and Alex Krolewski. Donations in Nathalie's memory can be made to Sarah Lawrence College, 1 Mead Way, Bronxville, N.Y., 10708.

To plant trees in memory, please visit the Sympathy Store.

Published by New York Times from Jun. 16 to Jun. 17, 2006.

Memories and Condolences
for Nathalie Ghent

1 Entry

Manuel Arriaga

June 19, 2006

Unlike the majority of people who got together to remember and celebrate Natasha's life two weeks ago, I only knew Natasha for a few months. Not only so, but the Natasha I met and spent so much time with was an elderly lady who suffered constantly with terrible pain and had some difficulty moving.

What struck me briefly after becoming Natasha's roommate was how much we could enjoy each other's company. Natasha had trouble hearing, and most people tell me on occasion that I talk too loud. As we joked, in that regard we were a "perfect match". Besides, my heavy accent when speaking English and a little mischievousness (I suspect!) on Natasha's part ensured that small misunderstandings occurred almost daily, and these always provided some additional fun. Had I really just said, Natasha would ask, that there were three distinct research groups in my department at school -- the geeks, the behavioral types and the... "communists"? ("EcoNOMists!")

I remember commenting to a friend how unfortunate it is that twenty-somethings such as myself hardly ever have a chance to regularly talk with "elderly people". Nowadays I am convinced that people in these two age groups have much more in common with each other than I previously thought. Actually, I am inclined to think that we have more in common with each other than we do with the average person in the age range between us -- those who are bogged down by innumerable professional and family obligations and have become so used to them that they mostly lack the mental availability to take a slightly more distanced perspective from the things that surround them.

Or perhaps I am completely mistaken and Natasha and I just happened to get along especially well, no generalizations required; I do not know.

In my room I have a large paper bag with three-months worth of "Post-its" and clippings from both the NYT as well as xerox copies from the materials which Natasha had accumulated over the years for her students and grandchildren. Especially in the beginning, hardly a day went by in which one of us would not feel a need to leave a colorful sticky note either in the bathroom mirror or on the door of the fridge. We were gradually

discovering how to live together. I don't have one of my all-time favorites, since it was a "questionnaire" to be returned to Natasha. It asked me (I quote from memory) about "terrible night noises" which might keep me awake, such as "doors that sound like gunshots when they are shut" and "kitchen drawers that sound like thunder ('bam!')".

The newspaper clippings were (almost) always a follow-up to a conversation we had had. Jane Jacobs; squirrels; references to my home country burried deep down in a NYT book review; a brief introduction to Russian Easter celebrations; music; music; and... music.

When it came to me trying to play simple melodies on the trumpet (Natasha gave me a copy of the score music to "My Funny Valentine"), she temporarily suspended her usual honesty and opted for kindness and generosity instead. She would praise how well it sounded, even when other friends found it difficult to react in any way other than an embarassed, "you don't really want me to tell you how that sounded" smile. (In the beginning, when I dared suggest she was simply being kind, Natasha would reply "are *you* trying to teach me about music?". That understandably put the issue to rest.)

Natasha also came up with a "two-note song" as a way to address what she insisted was a recurrent "misunderstanding" between the two of us. I typically tried to do small household tasks "on the spot" to avoid having to do them later, but Natasha felt that was too much of a burden. She said that we have "different perceptions of time", which is very true. Natasha translated her standard reaction when I began doing something -- "not now!" -- into a a song which ran:

"Not now, not now! Not now, not now!"

where each "not" was accompanied by a middle C on the piano and the "now"s by the B above it. More fun at the piano took place on one occasion when Andrea was here. The three of us played some of the children's songs which Natasha was compiling at the piano. I still remember how "Hot Cross Buns" goes.

These short paragraphs are meant to convey a picture of what it was like to live with Natasha over these last three months. As I wrote at the top, I am sure that most people have very different recollections -- of Natasha as a younger, healthy woman. Many will also understandably have much more intimate and personal recollections. But I thought I would share my own because of the happiness I felt when I noticed how many of the traits mentioned by several others who had met that earlier Natasha -- e.g., her

generosity, liveliness, outspokenness and humor -- persisted and were so strongly present in the Natasha with whom I shared these last months.

Confirming that, from the perspective of a "stranger" who met her at the age of 74, Natasha remained that same woman is my own small contribution to her

memory.