December 2001: Vol. 81, No. 1

Touring with the best

Flute professor Angela Jones-Reus is relegated to second chair—but only when she plays with the Berlin Philharmonic

by Alex Crevar (AB '93)

warm October breeze blows back Angela Jones-Reus' hair as she opens Carnegie Hall's stage door following rehearsal with the Berlin Philharmonic. Into the street, the UGA music professor and former Stuttgart Philharmonic principle flutist, meets her husband, Achim Reus, who has come to watch his wife perform three dates at this fabled venue, which played host to Tchaikovsky for its opening concert in 1891. At a nearby sushi bar, they take a table against the back wall, under a paper oriental lamp, and glide between laughter and technical talk about the pieces to be played tonight before a sold-out house of 2,804. Jones-Reus—invited to play assistant principle flute with the orchestra on their U.S. tour—eats raw tuna from chopsticks.

"There is such a clarity of sound with this orchestra," says Jones-Reus, who played with the Berlin Philharmonic on another U.S. tour in 1999 and at the Berlin New Year's concerts in 2000. "I wouldn't play second chair for anyone else—not the New York Philharmonic or anyone. From a first-chair player, that is saying something."

"They are the best," agrees Reus, a world-class musician in his own right. The principle French hornist with the Radio Symphony Orchestra Stuttgart for 17 years, Reus also played with the Berlin Philharmonic on several occasions including the 1999 U.S. tour and 2000 New Year's performance. "They are the Mercedes," he says in his thick German accent, "and the rest, they are the Volkswagen."

Jones-Reus was on tour with the Stuttgart Philharmonic when she first came to UGA's Hodgson Hall in 1997. Two years later, she and her husband were visiting the campus to see a friend attending graduate school, when Reus realized that Athens was a perfect place to start his entrepreneurial dream—a chain of K-Bob restaurants.

"After two days in Athens, we fell in love. The town reminded us of Europe," remembers Reus, whose K-Bob sandwich found a home on Lumpkin Street near the UGA track. Reus believes the sandwich has a big future here because Germans reportedly consume more of them than McDonalds, Burger King, and KFC combined. "Plus Angela and I had been coming to the U.S. every year since we met in 1994 and every year she became more and more homesick. It was time to make a change."

So they each took a sabbatical year from their orchestra positions and moved to Georgia. For Jones-Reus, it was the first time she had lived stateside in 15 years. After receiving a bachelor of music degree from The North Carolina School of the Arts and a master's from Juilliard, she moved to Italy, where she received a Fulbright-Hayes Grant for Music to compare contemporary Italian and American flute music. When the grant ended, she played principle flute for orchestras in Italy and nine years with the Stuttgart Philharmonic.

"Achim and I kept a vacation home in Little Rock, Ark., where my family lives," says Jones-Reus, who, with her brother, was orphaned in Germany as an infant and then adopted by an American couple. "Every time we came to the U.S., it was harder to return to Europe."

The couple moved in temporarily with friend and UGA music professor Fred Mills, whom Reus had played with in Germany. In the interim, Reus started his restaurant, "Achim's K-Bob," and Jones-Reus took a temporary job with UGA when long-time flute professor Ron Waln retired. After a year, she was selected from a national search to head UGA's flute program.

"Her ability as a soloist and her teaching ability made her the number-one candidate," says School of Music director Donald Lowe. "Because of her reputation, more students apply here and then, in turn, recommend her. She is key in the development of a quality flute program and of woodwinds here in general."

Brandy Babb, a freshman flute player from Henry County, came to UGA solely because of Jones. She had attended the prestigious Interlochen Arts Academy in Michigan prior to college, and, although she was accepted to the New England Conservatory, the school only offered her one-third of the yearly $30,000 price tag in scholarship money. It was a difficult decision for an arts academy kid to decide to attend a large state university, but after reading Angela's bio on the Web and then auditioning for her, Babb was impressed.

"The only reason I came here was because of Angela," said Babb, who called Jones-Reus for advice, crying, last year on the day a decision had to be made about which school to attend. "She is not in your face but she is direct and nurturing and I needed that. She was more nurturing than the other professors I had met."

Former housemate Fred Mills, who helped found the Canadian Brass in the early 70s, recommended Jones-Reus for her position.

"It's one thing to be a terrific player, like she is; a lot of people come here with credentials," says Mills. "But the difference is that she really digs teaching."

As the Berlin Philharmonic comes out on stage Friday night for the second of three performances, the audience stands and applauds loudly. Two days earlier, at an opening-night gala for Carnegie Hall's 111th season, the orchestra dedicated its performance and U.S. tour to those who suffered in the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11. The evening also included Mayor Rudolph Giuliani thanking the orchestra "for just being here," and a Manhattan policeman singing "God Bless America."

Jones-Reus—dressed in symphonic black, as slim as the instrument she plays—takes her second-flute position. The orchestra begin to tune, then another ovation and the hall stands to greet the Philharmonic's legendary conductor, Claudio Abbado, who, at 68 and in failing health, is leaving the orchestra following this season.

The orchestra begins with the Brahms "Piano Concerto No. I in D minor," featuring pianist Maurizio Pollini. Throughout the concerto—Brahms was originally disheartened by a less-than-glowing response upon its first performance in 1859—the crowd is motionless, breathless. At its conclusion, the crowd again cheers loudly with "Bravos." A man at the end of a row, in the prime parquet seats, turns to his son and wife and says, "This is ridiculous, they are just too good. It's an embarrassment of riches."

Jones-Reus leaves the stage for Beethoven's Symphony No. 7 but returns for the encore, the Liebestod from Wagner's "Tristan and Isolde."

"Simply put, the Berlin Philharmonic is the best orchestra in the world," says Jones-Reus, who is still amazed by the different sound the orchestra creates—even compared to other top ensembles. The Berlin Philharmonic is famous for tuning at a frequency level of 44—rather than the typical 440—in order to produce a brighter sound.

"They have a blending quality that comes from their culture—a sound culture or, in German, Klang Kultur," says Jones-Reus. "It's tangible, like the blending of ingredients some cultures have with cooking. The Berlin Philharmonic's brass and their soloists don't just belt it out—they blend a homogenous sound."

On her final night in New York, Jones-Reus plays both Beethoven numbers—the "Symphony No. 5 in C minor" (which received its Carnegie Hall premiere during the opening-week festival on May 9, 1891) and the "Symphony No. 6 in F major." She also plays the encore, Beethoven's "Leonore."

Following the performance, in a reception room surrounded by glass showcases filled with autographed posters and stage bills, Jones-Reus stands between Gershwin and Count Basie. She speaks in Italian and then in German and finally in English to those around her.

"It's a tough life being on the road," she laughs and then becomes serious, "but I am looking forward to getting home to my new house in Athens. And I've got to get back and teach double-time for the lessons I've put on hold while gone. There's a lot of hungry flute students at UGA."

She takes another hors d'oeuvre from a passing tray and raises her wine glass.

Real-world journalism

When Samira Jafari moved to the U.S. from Iran 16 years ago, she never dreamed she would be orchestrating newspaper coverage of a war against terrorism in the Middle East

by Katie Mitchell

amira Jafari has just put through a call to UGA police chief Chuck Horton to ask him about campus traffic laws, but her mind is elsewhere.

"It's been very draining for my staff," says Jafari, referring to The Red & Black's coverage of the Sept. 11 attacks on the World Trade Center and the ensuing war on terrorism. "We are tackling one of the largest events of the last century."

As intimidating as that can be for college student who had no idea what was in store for her when she took over as editor of UGA's campus daily this fall, Jafari also sees this as one of the beauties of student journalism. "We're covering this event at such an early age,' she says, "that we can see both sides of the story—it's very numbing, but also very exciting."

Being young and the editor of a daily newspaper doesn't completely explain why Jafari is so caught up in this story. Another reason is her Middle-Eastern descent.

Born in Iran 20 years ago, Jafari moved to the U.S. with her parents and her brother when she was four years old, leaving all of her extended family behind. And while divorcing her personal feelings from her job has been difficult, she believes it's a necessity.

"I see myself as a journalist first," says Jafari, a junior from Duluth who has worked for The Red & Black since virtually her first day of school as a freshman. "I'm proud of who I am, but I don't see myself classified as Middle-Eastern. When I grieve, I grieve as a human. My family (back in Iran) is just as upset as I am."

After putting in 50-hour weeks as a stringer, staff-writer, and news editor, Jafari—who is double-majoring in newspapers and criminal justice—is now in charge of orchestrating The Red & Black's coverage of a story that aspiring journalists can't find in a textbook or conventional classroom. Besides doing justice to that story, Jafari is also mindful of the emotional effect these tragic events have had on her own staff.

"One of (the managing editor's and my) biggest concerns was keeping our staff healthy. We wanted to make sure to offer help for the anguish they were feeling," she says. "As journalists, we don't get to mourn as easily. . . . Everyone has some kind of personal tie to the tragedies—a brother who worked in the World Trade Center, a friend at NYU who saw the whole thing happen."

She also confesses that some of her staff felt guilty for wanting to cover the attacks.

"My staff worked so hard," she says with more than just a hint of pride. "But I told them it's OK to be proud of their coverage, because that's what motivates you to put out a good story."

Staffers say it was their coverage of the terrorist attacks that helped serve as an outlet for their anguish. While national news stories have generally come from outside sources such as the Associated Press, the story of America under siege was brought closer to home by staff-written explanations of the Islamic religion and accounts of the many campus symposiums, rallies, and candlelight vigils that have taken place at UGA since Sept. 11.

Staff writer Hilary Hilliard covered a twilight vigil at Herty Field on Sept. 21, filing a story that reads, in part:

"Heads were bowed and eyes were closed. Hands held hands, and arms wrapped around shoulders. But tears were scarce. . . .The mood was somber, but positive. 'You can see smiles on these faces, and smiles are something we haven't seen in the last nine days,' said Richard Mullendore, vice president for student affairs. 'It is amazing.'"

Hilliard, a junior from Warner Robins, has covered many of the Sept. 11th-related stories.

"It was very hard to be objective, and it was heartbreaking to be out there with the international students and those who were personally affected," she says. "We were so far from the action, but we still considered how it would affect Athens and the students."

A recent reader survey confirmed that many readers rely exclusively on The Red & Black for news of the world around them. For advice on how to cover events taking place in New York, Washington, and the Middle East, Jafari consulted journalism professor Conrad Fink.

"I suggested she assign someone to take four or five stories of compelling importance and put them together in a roundup story," says Fink, a former Associated Press foreign correspondent who critiques The Red & Black for Jafari, both during and after class. "And I think they've been doing it quite successfully."

The relationship between Red & Black staffers and J-school professors is a unique one. The paper has been independent for more than 20 years, severing its ties to the University in 1980. But many staff members are journalism majors, who learn basic skills and tricks of the trade from real-world practitioners like Fink.

"Samira is very aggressive," he says, "and she has great instinct for what is news, where to get it, and how to write it once you get it."

Jafari has praise for the Grady College faculty in general, and specifically for Fink's mentoring abilities.

"He always leaves the decisions up to us," says Jafari, "but he really does challenge us to think about what we do every day."

Months after the terrorist attacks, Jafari and her staff continue to cover the story of terrorism in America.

"It was all very frightening," she admits, "and I think some form of retaliation is inevitable. But I value the people in government and in education who stepped up and advised (Americans) to be careful."

Jafari believes the impact of Sept. 11 won't stop at U.S. borders.

"I think this will open the eyes of people in Muslim nations, and they will understand that this type of cowardice is not acceptable," she says. "Whether we will see change immediately, I don't know, but anyone who is human knows that this is not right."

She says that due to the work of extremists, many Americans have misinterpreted Islam—the religion of her family in Iran.

"I don't practice any religion myself," she says. "My parents raised us to be open-minded, and I respect everyone's religion. But I don't think any religion would advocate such violence."

Back to Top . Up Front . Features . Alumni Profiles . Class Notes . Back to Current Issue