Above everything else, Bruno valued people and relationships. He brought people together in big ways, while also nourishing each and every individual relationship. He was giving in every sense of the word, especially with his time. It is evident in the tributes below that Bruno played as big a role in the lives of so many others as they did in his. Contributions are listed in alphabetical order.
ABET | Bette Adelman | Virginia Anderson | Alison Arnold | Anna Maria Busse Berger | Peter Braunfeld | Liora Bresler | Cathy Brigham | Jimmy Bunch | Patricia Shehan Campbell | Charles Capwell | Maria Griffin Carter | Peter Chang | Michael & Jane Charry | Judith Cohen | Jane Desmond | Jan Erkert | Aviva Fields | Natalie Fiol | Eva Hnizdo | Peter J. Hoesing | Al Huang | Philip Johnston | Joseph Jordania | Marcello Source Keller | Bill Kinderman | Ellen Koskoff | Frederick Lau | Vicki Levine | Harry Liebersohn | Teo Lomsadze | Lotte Mulligan | Kim Munoz | Jean Osborn | Tony Perman | Della Perrone | Svanibor Pettan | Morgan Powell | Ed & Lois Rath | Anthony Rauche | Nino Razmadze | Renée Rizzoni | Margaret Sarkissian | Albrecht Schneider | Dorothee Schneider | Anna Schultz | Evelyn Shapiro | Eldad Shiloah | Ted Solis | Simon Spalding | Bruce Stebner | Gordon R. Thompson | Michael Udow | Chris Waterman | Stephen Wild | Sean Williams | Philip Yampolsky
I register the decease of Professor Bruno Nettl, one of the most prominent references in international Ethnomusicology and who has honored us with short but noteworthy participation in the history of our association - National Association of Ethnomusicology (Associação Brasileira de Etnomusicologia - ABET). Professor Nettl pronounced the keynote speech of our very first national meeting, in Recife (state of Pernambuco, Northeastern Brazil), 2002.
[...] Bruno Nettl formed successive generations of researchers, by providing memorable seminars and being a sensitive academic advisor. Always showing his erudition, never in a pedant way, Nettl used to demonstrate extreme attention to the interests of his interlocutors at the events he regularly and attentively organized as well as at the ones where he actively used to participate - and there were many social events promoted by him at Urbana-Champaign, at his residence or public spaces. As a graduate student at he University of Illinois, I believe I have assisted all of Nettl's seminars, which were unique opportunities to come to know the field of Ethnomusicology in depth - from an anglo-germanic tradition and in interplay with similar fields. It would be impossible to make a review of all of his publications in this short note, but I would highlight some of them that have circulated in Brazil and Mondial scale and others that have circulated in maybe more restricted spaces - each one, however, of enormous importance in his works as a whole. In the case of the most acknowledged are "The Study of Ethnomusicology: Thirty- One Issues and Concepts" (the "Red book", as he used to joke, alluding to the famous Mao Tse Tung's compendium), having had several editions and inclusions attentive to the changes in the field since the first edition, in 1983; his "Theory and Method in Ethnomusicology", 1964; and the provocative "Heartland Excursions", 1995, which takes a critical view about values and practices at music colleges, based on participant observation at his institution in USA. Although it was centered in an institution from the US, many scholars have recognized the research as important for reflection upon other territories, including below the Equador line. Among works maybe less acknowledged but at my point of view as well as important or even more, I would highlight "Blackfoot Musical Thought", 1989, an ethnographic study about the concepts involved in the music-making of Blackfoot society; the compilations edited by him, as "Eight Urban Musical Cultures", 1978, and "In the Course of Performance", 1994, edited with Melinda Russel, both pioneer contributions to aspects that completely changed the course of Ethnomusicology. In 2002, Bruno Nettl accepted the invitation of ABET to be the keynote speaker at our first national meeting in Recife - it was his first and only travel to the country. In Recife, besides being enchanted by the Boa Viagem beach, he seemed positively impacted by the intensity of the meeting, asking sometimes if one or another next to him could translate to English the main topics discussed. Before the meeting he had been in Rio de Janeiro, participating, accompanied by Anthony Seeger, on the premiere of the series "Música em Debate" (Music on Debate), since then promoted by the research group "Laboratório de Etnomusicologia" (research group on Ethnomusicology) of the Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro. Both keynote speeches were published in Portuguese.
Translated parts of the note written by prof. Samuel Araújo (Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro) on the behalf of the National Association of Ethnomusicology (Associação Brasileira de Etnomusicologia – ABET, Brazil).
Dear friends,
I was quite overcome when reading the marvelous reminiscences and tributes about and to Bruno published in the 2021 issue of the UI’s School of Music Sonorities publication, which I received and read just moments ago in my hone in Arizona. What admiration, what appreciation and yes, adoration his students and colleagues expressed for him! It practically brought me to tears. He was beloved by so many people—not only for his academic and scholarly achievements, but perhaps even more so for his warmth, valued friendships, loving attention to colleagues and students, and just plain outright dignified humanity. The many expressions of adulation and the innumerable tributes published reminded me of my own personal regard and affection for him and made me feel sad again at his loss.
I just wanted you to know how high in esteem I still hold his memory, and how much I miss the wonderful company of the entire Nettl family I and my family once so enjoyed! Sending my love to the three of you, and hoping this finds you all well and happily content.
An amazing thinker, and a great loss to music. And such a humane man. He came over to talk to members of our free improv session at a Dutch conference when everyone else there pretty much snubbed us. I was star-struck and amazed by his kindness.
Bruno was a towering figure in the field of ethnomusicology and he will be sorely missed by so many. He was the reason I came to the United States, given a research assistantship to work with him on his first edition of "The Study of Ethnomusicology: Twenty-Nine Issues and Concepts." We had never met until I arrived in the Music Building at the U. of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. How fortunate I was to have Bruno Nettl as my doctoral advisor, my teacher, mentor, and friend. An unparalleled inspiration in my life.
He was a wonderful person, the finest of scholars, a consummate writer, a good friend, and the reason I came to the United States to study ethnomusicology. How fortunate I was to have Bruno as my doctoral advisor. R.I.P., Bruno.
Even though I had met Bruno long ago we became closer in his last years. He was a great mentor and supporter for my book "The Search for Medieval Music and Africa and Germany." I asked him so many questions, and he always steered me in the right direction. Most moving was his deep sympathy for emigrés forced out of Nazi Germany. He was a real Mensch.
Dear Becky; Dear Gloria
First off, I want to apologize for my long silence. I've been dealing for some time with a long series of pesky medical problems. Luckily, none of them seem to be life-threatening. But, taken all together, they are very time consuming: doctor and dentist appts, lab tests, etc., etc. I've also given up my driver's license, which doesn't help expedite things.
I'd like to begin my letter by telling you that tomorrow (Monday) I've been asked by the Philosophy Club (of which I'm a member) to lead a brief session in memory of Bruno. Bruno was briefly a member of the Phil Club, but later on switched to the Dial Club, which was more to his taste. It was actually Bruno who originally sponsored me for membership in the Phil Club for which I'm very grateful to him. I've now been a member for several years, and it has become an important part of my life. Most of the members of the Phil Club said that the knew of Bruno (Who in the U of I community didn't know of Bruno?), but none of them knew him well. So I agreed to talk about some of his scholarly achievements, but mostly about what he meant to me as a friend, and why I loved and admired him. I'll try to send you an up-date about this meeting.
Ever since Bruno died, I've been preoccupied with thinking about him, and what he meant to me. At the beginning of these reflections and rememberings, it seemed to me that I had known Bruno for a very long time. But, I soon realized that that simply wasn't true. In fact, even now, I can't put my finger on exactly when and how we did meet, but it is clear that we spent decades on this campus without running into each other. My best guess is that we finally met at a party at the Kindermans. But meet we did, and at some point we started to be invited to the very special parties hosted by Wanda and Bruno. At these parties, I met a number of interesting people (e.g., the Kelmanns, the Temperlys, and many more.) I also remember being introduced to the Nettl's famous "Wiener Nusstorte 1 and 2." But mostly I remember the pleasure I derived from getting to know Bruno better and better. We both discovered to our delight that we both spent our early years in "Mittel-Europa"--he in Prague and I in nearby Vienna. We both came from German-speaking families, with ethnic Jewish backgrounds. Our families both emigrated from Nazi Germany at roughly the same time, and we discovered that we had even taken our first sabbaticals at "smallish" universities in West Germany. As we discovered our common cultural heritages, we started to meet "a due" (as Bruno liked to say) almost weekly. At first our weekly meetings were for lunch at the Kamakura, a Japanese place on Neil Street. However, the service was slow and poor, so Bruno suggested we move to Panera's. But lunch at Panera's was noisy and loud, so we switched our meeting to 3 PM. Bruno noted that such afternoon gatherings in German were called Jause--so that's what we called it too. In our weekly Jause, our conversations ranged over every conceivable subject: central European child-rearing practices; life under the Nazi; adjusting to a new life in America; books we both encountered as children and teens; our diligent study of major league baseball statistics and lore; our experiences as undergraduates and graduate students; our early days as instructors and assistant professors; raising our children; university politics; national politics--all these and much more were grist for the mills of our Jause conversations. We discovered that we had similar, but not identical, tastes and interests in classical music. For example, I was delighted to learn that Bruno was knowledgeable about, and enjoyed, the music of Richard Wagner, without dwelling on the fact that Wagner was both a nasty man and a vicious anti-Semite.
Saddened, with so many people, to hear about Bruno's passing. Heard, literally, from people across the world. Many, like me, inspired by him, his vibrant mind, his amazing spirit, his ability to communicate big ideas, even in 30 minutes. Was expanded each time I talked with him (and was looking forward to celebrate his 90th birthday over coffee).
I do miss his presence. He had such vitality, and it stays, even when he is gone...
Bruno was very kind. Very kind. As measured by a lowly graduate student from a different institution, who also headed up the student association, he was a willing participant in our events and regional conferences and treated even the lowliest of students with care.
I was blessed to have a class with Bruno. He was a deeply kind soul.
Inspired moments with Bruno Nettl: His many short courses at the UW, his papers, panels, and workshops on "teaching world music", his generous mentoring notes to me as a young professor. So long ago, in Tokyo with Bruno and Wanda Nettl and Mari Shiobara, Kunitachi College, during an education symposium (and his Koizumi Prize). Mari is now with us at the UW, and we are remembering together the wisdom and wit of a wonderful man who cared deeply that we would teach the performance and understanding of "the indigenous music of all nations, across all borders". May Bruno's ideals continue to inspire teachers of all levels and contexts.
As I grow older, the fabric of friendship has become tattered, but the death of Bruno has rent a great and irreparable tear in that fabric. Bruno will always be remembered and studied as the preeminent Scholar in his field, but it is Bruno the Mensch whom I mourn.
April 18, 2020
To the Nettl family:
It is with surprise that I recently read that your husband, father, and grandfather—Bruno Nettl—transitioned several months ago.
He was my mentor and professor at the University of Illinois, beginning in 1977. I had personally met him at a prior SEM meeting in Boston and expressed my interest in attending the U of I. Several months later, I was offered a full fellowship to matriculate there for a ph.D. in. musicology.
Professor Nettl was a reader on my dissertation committee, attended my commencement, and was a present help and sympathetic ear throughout my career.
He was the quintessential professor—one who pushed you when you needed it, and was always honest when assessing your work. He helped students to complete degrees, publications, fulfill promotions, be at the top of their fields, and become their best selves. He was kind, generous, soft-spoken, humble, and well-balanced—truly a remarkable role-model and professor.
I shall miss him—but he has left many footprints and students who will carry on his good work.
I feel fortunate to have met Dr. Nettl, to have known him, and studied with him. It has made all the difference in my life and in the lives of many others.
You were his wonderfully supportive and loving family who made it possible for him to be who he was—a great teacher, scholar, and friend.
May you forever cherish extraordinary memories of a glorious life!
Peace and blessings
February 28, 2020
Dear Bruno,
I was looking forward to celebrate your 90th birthday in your Champaign home in March 2020, but was so saddened to learn that my wish has become impossible. You’ve been on my mind ever since January 15th, 2020, and I still can’t accept the fact of living without your presence. I miss you so much! And I have seen you in a dream two days ago. I was hoping to share my grief with students and friends to make me feel better, but that didn’t help much. It’s going to take a long while for me to recover.
Peking duck dinner at Da Dong Restaurant in Beijing May 15, 2007. Bruno (right) and Peter (left)
I first met you in summer 1988 in Seattle at the University of Washington when you were teaching a summer course, and I was visiting my Central Washington University’s school friend in Seattle. Shortly after, I arrived in Champaign on August 15, 1988 to begin my Ph.D. program. You invited me to dinner at your home and drove me around the town to show me around, and took me under your wing as your advisee. For three years of my time taking courses, you taught me some many things, and gave me advices on so many matters from academic advising to life experiences and to exploring the potential in myself. You know I was poor, and needed financial support to continue my study. You have always helped me not only finding support from the university, but also find the ways for me to earn money by letting me paint your house among other projects such as house sitting.
You treated me like a member of your own family with respect, care and affection. All these went far beyond teacher-student protocol. It is your true humanity that allowed you to care for me, a Chinese student with different cultural background and life experiences, to grow professionally. Your generous support and unselfish moral codes have set examples for me to remember and to emulate. I can always sense that you’re happy upon hearing my progress. I cherish every moment of my study with you at Champaign. I was married in Urbana, in 1991, that you helped me to make all the arrangements from filing the marriage license to ceremony, to dinner and to post-dinner gathering; and you bought us wedding presents which have accompanied us for many years. Without your advice and support, I can’t imagine what I have accomplished: I completed my degree in 1995 and landed a permanent teaching job in the same year. I and my 3 Illini friends at NEIU were so honored to host you for your lecture, and to share a delicious cake from “Dear Heaven,” one of the best bakeries in Chicago, after your lecture. As I took you back to your hotel in the loop, I knew you were happy to see us, too! I was very lucky to have you as my trusted friend for your wise advices, and to talk to you freely about many personal matters. You often told me “life can be beautiful” which always gives me hope.
Bruno’s lecture at the Central Conservatory of Music in Beijing May 17, 2007. Peter Chang (right) was his translator.
I was very happy to have you come over to my house for dinner and to cook for you in 2006, and to accompanying you in Beijing to translate for your lecture for the Central Conservatory of Music in 2007. It was surreal for me to treat you at a Peking duck restaurant, and walking together after dinner to visit my parents in their apartment on that trip. I know you are a gourmet, and always want to share anything yummy with you, and you are always graciously receptive. You’ve treated me at Bombay Grill in Champaign as well as other restaurants there on my visits to see you in March each year. I remember that you liked a special Chinese restaurant in Chicago’s Chinatown when we had dinner there, and you thought the food was delicious, and the price was reasonably inexpensive. You invited me and my family for an afternoon tea with your own pastries and cakes just 2 years ago, and offered to help Philip, my son, if needed. Phil has graduated from UIUC last year and is currently working in New Jersey for a Biotech company. You have sent me copies of your new books with your autograph as well as the beautiful picture book of Wanda’s artwork. I will always treasure them! For me, you’ve never left us as you will always live in my heart!
With utmost admiration and appreciation,
Yours truly,
Peter Chang
Dear Gloria,
We are so grateful that you took the trouble to write us, even though we have never met; and it is such a kind, detailed, thoughtful letter. We knew your sister Becky, even baby-sat her in Germany, before we Fulbrighters of 1956–7 (Michael, a student, Bruno, a professor) parted Bad Honnef, where we had an orientation for a week or so before going off to our assignments. Bruno bought a car and drove us around the near countryside in our free time.
We stayed in touch and visited your parents in Detroit when Bruno was teaching at Wayne State. Becky was dancing already then. Bruno or both of them visited us in New York City occasionally and we visited them in Champaign. Bruno introduced me to the University of Illinois Press, who patiently guided me to shape my biography of George Szell (“George Szell: A Life of Music”), and published it in 2011 in cloth and 2014 in paper. You’ll likely find a copy inscribed to your folks on a shelf. I was with Szell and the Cleveland Orchestra from 1961 to 1970, first as apprentice, then as assistant conductor. I stayed with the orchestra two more years and then made a career with opera and orchestra conducting and finally teaching at Syracuse and Boston Universities, and finally at Mannes. I had studied with Pierre Monteux at his school in Maine for four summers, earned BS and MS degrees in conducting at Juilliard under Jean Morel, and then the Fulbright in Hamburg with Hans Schmidt-Isserstedt.
Over the years we kept in touch with Bruno and Wanda, visiting them in Champaign-Urbana and they meeting us in New York City and Princeton, Illinois—where our son and his family were living—or halfway between. We exchanged annual holiday letters for years. When we didn’t receive Bruno’s usual brilliantly rhyming holiday letter this year we feared the worst. Give our love to your mother. We’ll look your dad up on the web and the in the obit you mention. He shared his recent books with us, so we know he was creative until relatively recently.
Fortunately, we are still here and together at ages 87 (M) and 91 (J—as of 1/20). I (M) taught at The New School University’s Mannes School of Music until spring semester 2020. Began with Mannes in 1988, conducted the orchestra until 1999, and taught various graduate courses until spring 2020, after which the virus caused drastic cuts. Hoping for possibility by fall 2021.
We’re attaching a photo from ca. 2012, in our sailboat in Southwest Harbor, Maine. We had a house there from 1992 to 2014.
Thank you again. Please give our profoundest sympathies to your family. May we meet some day and may the new year be better than the old.
Warmly,
Michael and Jane Charry
Bruno was the first person who ever asked me a question in the q&a following a paper – my very first conference paper, at SEM College Park in 1982. It was, of course, long before email, video conferencing and so on. I distinctly remember Bruno’s sincerely inquisitive, focused expression, with his head slightly cocked to one side, as he asked precisely what it was that made music in the Canadian Sephardic community – my dissertation topic – different from Sephardic music anywhere else. The answer I gave - somewhat flustered but also immediately aware that the question was helpful, not hostile - I have in fact forgotten – but have not forgotten going home, thinking about it at length, and working it into my writing. Thanks, Bruno!
Dear Rebecca,
You will be flooded with condolences today I know, but since we rarely see one another in person, I wanted to send a note on behalf of my partner Virginia Dominguez and myself to express our condolences on your loss of Bruno. Everyone in the anthro department loved him, not surprisingly, and when I moved here in 2007, I was thrilled to know he was on the campus.
As an undergraduate at Brown, I designed my own major in dance and music, and luckily it included a lot of ethnomusicology courses. Of course, I read some of your father's early work! I've never forgotten that, and was so delighted to finally meet him in person so many years later at UIUC. And, my encounter with his field then was in a sense life-changing. I"ve never forgotten my sense of my own stunning ignorance when I listened to gamelan music for the first time or studied Indian classical music---how could I be so unaware of the creativity of more than half the world? Beyond that personal experience, I was always delighted to encounter him out and about in town, with such a happy sense of engagement wherever he was. There are so many who knew him so much better, but I wanted you to know how deeply his work has touched so many of us on campus who didn't get to know him well too.
Bruno was always fully present - eyes wide, curious about everything, with his brilliant mind working out ideas and inventing new ways to imagine.
Bruno was always everywhere – there was hardly a Krannert concert, a lecture, a KAM opening in which we didn’t see Bruno! He seemed to drink in inspiration from every corner of the world - every artist he could listen and learn from, every scholar who might offer a new perspective.
Bruno’s heart was always full of heart and soul. He was present not only to drink in….but to support. He was there to let you know what you did mattered. He was there to give you a hug, a high five, a smile.
Bruno gave DAI a beautiful scholarship in honor of Wanda – a sweet and everlasting gift from a soul who loved to give.
Bruno (and Wanda) gave the Department of Dance, Becky, our most treasured faculty, and Natalie, our phenomenal photographer. We will forever be thankful.
Bruno’s capacity for living a well lived life is inspiring!
I'll never forget when I first met him - I was in the music building at UIUC during a campus visit, reading all the interesting things posted on his door when I noticed the door was open just a crack and I realized he was sitting back at his desk watching me with a big smile on his face. He invited me in and we got to have a brief chat. We'll miss you and your mentorship, Bruno!
Gradabru,
You spent so much time writing for and about all of us in the family—it only makes sense to write about you now. I never would have attempted this in your presence—not because you didn’t deserve it or because you wouldn’t have received it with kindness and love—but because you were simply the best writer I’ve encountered and I’m a bit of a chicken.
I have been reflecting on our time together and on your impact on my life and I am left feeling incredibly lucky, for your effects are exponential. In my youth, you took me shopping, taught me to make marzipan, let me play with your elephant collection and the toys at your office, whooped me in Scrabble, Upwords, and Boggle, called me for pop culture help on the New York Times crossword puzzles, helped me with homework and papers, came to all of my concerts, games, and events, took me to see your hometown in Prague, to Terezin, where your relatives were held captive, to Germany, and London, taught me the dog songs, and always attempted to educate me on history, geography, and vocabulary (that never stopped).
School was always a subject that we connected on. Your interest in my classes and studies was nothing short of apparent. In high school, I enjoyed weekly lunches at home with you and Gramma. In college, you drove me to class a couple of times a week for a period of time. And when I got my first big girl job as a billboard designer, you requested a billboard tour, so I could point out my work on the streets. We would meet for lunch at that Chinese buffet, even though we often complained that it wasn’t all that good. The company was always good, though, and your consistent effort to spend time together meant and continues to mean so much.
You always treated my ideas, opinions, beliefs, and privacy with respect. You were so so generous with your time, your money, your resources, and your intellect. I wouldn’t be who I am, where I am, or with the opportunities I have without your significant contributions to my life. And you and gramma raised two amazing women who embody so many of the qualities that I am praising. I’ll miss your outbursts of baaaahh, the unique way that you hummed music, the pun-filled emails and emails in general, your verses for all occasions, and your warm, caring spirit. I cherish the memory of you secretly flashing me a thumbs up after I announced my pregnancy. I’m so thankful that you got to meet Olykai—I only wish that you’d gotten to have that conversation with her. Perhaps you did just as you departed. ;)
My earliest memories with you include chuckling together to the song “I’m my Own Grandpa.” It was the silliest song, but one that now carries new meaning. I’m not my own grandpa, but I’m a piece of my you. May your spirit live on through me and all of us who loved you so.
I only met Bruno and his family in October 2019, but he made me feel as if he was in my life all the time. In those 3 days, I saw what a wonderful, smart, kind, educated man he was. Such an amazing person. His father and my grandfather were cousins. But please Rebecca, Gloria and families, come ot visit me in London when Covid lets us!
My great-grandfather Isidor Nettl, and Bruno's grandfather Karl Nettl, were brothers. My grandfather Benno Nettl a kid in Prague) and Bruno's father Paul Nettl were cousins ("first" cousins, in American terminology). Thus,my mother, and my Uncle Mirko were "second" cousins and I am Bruno's "second cousin once removed" or in relationship to Rebecca and Gloria I am their third cousin. Very complicated.
My grandfather Benno and uncle Mirko were killed in the war. I have a new grandson now, named Benno after my grandfather. LOL Mischpoche.
Here’s a remembrance of Prof. Nettl.
Bruno Nettl’s name has been synonymous with Ethnomusicology since long before I first heard of the field as an undergraduate student in a global music survey course. His work was foundational for an M.M. cohort at Florida State University as it has been for so many graduate students, again long before we arrived there. As students, we were keenly aware of him at SEM conferences. He was such a ubiquitous influence that a goofy game of “Marco Polo” in a hotel pool during SEM in Miami in 2003 replaced the calls and responses with his name: Bruno! Nettl! We saw him around, our professors introduced us to him, and we attended events that featured him, but I really didn’t get a chance to interact much with Prof. Nettl until after I’d finished the Ph.D. and was chatting with a press about the book it would become.
Bruno heard a few encouraging words to me from Laurie Matheson as we were wrapping up our meeting at SEM in Indianapolis in 2013. As he moseyed past the University of Illinois Press booth, she’d said something like, “well, that’s good progress; just keep going each day. That’s how Bruno gets books done.” He turned around, recognizing the opportunity she’d created for him to encourage a junior colleague, and he said, “Yep. A few pages each day, and it’ll be done.” At a busy conference, he could well just have moved along from there to get the new books he was searching for, chat with colleagues and friends, or get to his next session. Instead, we were his sole focus as he asked about my work and the book project with genuine interest.
This was Bruno’s magic: ever the ethnographer and teacher, his example of how to listen, really listen, was constant. He knew from years in the field and the classroom that an ounce of sincere interest in someone’s work could open them to sharing it generously. Today I pour a libation and sing a prayer of gratitude as I repeat his name, this master of listening. I thank Bruno Nettl for the countless fieldwork and cocktail party stories and songs he revealed and shared. Professor Bruno Nettl’s exemplary work shaped ethnomusicology from its foundations and tirelessly made it better. We shall miss you dearly, Bruno.
Dear Rebecca:
So sad this morning to read the passing of your father… A wonderful man with such distinguished life/career— truly admirable. We will all miss him… Deep condolences to you and the Nettl family. I will miss seeing him at Krannert concerts sharing our kindred appreciations. Again, so sorry to lose this remarkable teacher/mentor in person. I will think of him always with lights in his eyes whenever we meet each other in town. Again, my heartfelt condolence to you and family.
Here is a poem by Tagore I go to for comfort at time of loss, in case you do not know it yet….
I have no trace of wings in the air
but I am glad I have had my flight.
The butterfly counts not months but moments
and has time enough.
These paper boats of mine are meant to dance
on the ripples of hours
and not to reach any destination.
The center is still and silent in the heart
of an eternal dance of circles.
Faith is the bird that feels the light
and sings when the dawn is still dark.
My last salutations are to them
who knew me imperfect and loved me.
Before the end of my journey
may I reach within myself
the One which is the All,
leaving the outer shell
to float away with the drifting multitude
upon the current of chance and change.
—Rabindranath Tagore
I do not know who will be opening this letter, but I just wanted to express my profound sorrow hearing about passing away of our dearest Bruno, the embodiment of scholarly wisdom and humane warmth.
I feel deeply privileged to have met him on several occasions...
I wish all Bruno's family long years of happiness!
Dear Becky and family,
I read about your father’s passing with great sadness.
I have many memories of your dad over the years I have lived in Urbana. We had many conversations, often en route from Krannert to the Music Building and always incredibly animated. He was a truly extraordinary man in his professional life and a great family man. You will all miss him terribly I know. Please give my condolences to your mother. I have been honored to be in their company many times over the years.
Dear Wanda,
As you see, it took me quite a while to find the heart to write you this letter.
I simply would like to tell you, Rebecca and Gloria, that no one ever influenced my life so profoundly, and so positively as Bruno did. My gratitude is therefor boundless. I no longer travel much, so I had only a few opportunities to meet Bruno over the past few years. However, just knowing he was in Champaign, active as ever, was for me reassuring. He was one of my very few points of reference in life.
He was not only a very great scholar, he was also successful in making many of his students better and happier people than they would have otherwise been.
You will miss him terribly, and I know in such cases there is nothing sensible one can say. If it can help you at all, just think that very many people like myself, literally across the world, will miss him and never forget him to the very end of our days.
Please do not make the efforts to reply. This letter does not need a reply. You have other things on your mind. Just take care of yourself as much as you can, with the support of your wonderful family.
A very big, big hug from
Marcello
Dear Beck and Steve and family,
Bruno’s passing is a very sad event. Until recently I was in touch with him and he was as lively and humane and insightful as ever. But bodies wear out, and life spans are limited, even for great spirits like him.
Getting to know Bruno and Wanda and your whole family was an inspiring high point of our entire period spent in Champaign.
You’re all much in our thoughts.
We send every good wish to you from Los Angeles.
Once, at an annual SEM meeting a long time ago, you called me a "mensch." You meant it--and I took it--as a compliment. It was at that moment that I first came to see you as a real person, a sort of loving uncle, with a quirky sense of humor and a charming humility.
Until then, I had thought of you as one of the original ethno-Gods. Although I was never your student, or moved in your circle, I'd read almost everything you had written and I wanted to be just like you--compassionate, open-minded, and tolerant (not to mention, prolific!). You were my hero.
Over the years, as I came to know you and your family better, I never lost my love and respect for you or my admiration for your commitment to ethnomusicology. One of the last times we spoke I asked you if you were going to retire. You laughed and said, "No, why would I do that? I can't do anything else!"
I will truly miss you.
Love,
Ellen
Dear Becky,
I have been reminiscing about my entire time at U of I. I owe my career and what I learned in ethnomusicology from Bruno whom I can truly call mentor. I am glad I visited him and Wanda last November. Here is a photo we took. My thoughts are with you and your family. Me ke aloha!
There once was a fella named Bruno,
He was an Illini, as you know
He traveled afar,
To learn the setar,
On which he played many a tune-o.
In Montana he met Calvin Boy,
A singer he sought to employ.
Cal told him of Napi,
Which made Bruno happy,
‘Cause musical thought was his joy.
In India, Bru took in raga,
Which led to one heck of a saga.
A tale of two cities
With all of their ditties,
Oh! All of us simply went gaga!
The love of his life, she is Wanda,
At first sight, Bru knew he’d be fond’a
This lovely blonde artist
Who’s truly the smartest
Among all our friends, she’s the tonda.*
Bru was a great fan of fine sweets
Cake, pie, marzipan, and all treats
He loved a good party
And he partied hearty,
So let’s celebrate Bru with good eats!
Happy Birthday, Bruno, we miss you and will always remember you.
--Vicki Levine, March 14, 2021
*Tonda means “pricesless one” in Hungarian.
When I think of my friendship with Bruno, my mind wanders instantly to the lunch places where we would meet from time to time – as often as I could get away from teaching duties and the general mishegas of university duties. For a long time we wandered from place to place, one time Mexican, another time Chinese, or Indian, until for a long stretch we found a home at Sitara in downtown Urbana, right across from Busey Bank. It was well named for musical conversations, but that wasn’t the main attraction. Sitara had a lunchtime thali that was tasty and cheap – and Bruno and I had a hearty appreciation of both of those virtues. The acoustics were good, the seats (almost all booths with genuine naugahyde or some such faux-leather cover) were comfortable. Bobby the head waiter would greet us, the flat screen in the background played an endless Bollywood loop. I would always order the thali. Bruno would sometimes vary things a bit by ordering aloo gobi. He favored it because of the potatoes which were (as he liked to point out) part of his Central European heritage. “Heritage” mattered, but Bruno never became self-serious about it.
What else, besides the food, did we talk about? His family, of course: Nettl clan, I got to know and cherish all of you so well through his stories! And there was the wider family, past and present, including the Australian cousin whom he hoped to visit once again; and his parents, especially as he remembered life with them in the Princeton years, where they started out in a cold-water flat and Bruno’s mother supported the family by giving piano lessons. And we talked about everything else you could think of: Bruno’s health (often the first topic of conversation – but then, after telling me his latest worry, he would cheer up). Politics (we worried together in 2008 about whether Obama would beat McCain, who seemed impossibly erratic). Jews, Jewishness, Judaism. The Midwest versus the East Coast: Bruno was a fiercely patriotic Midwestener, I was indelibly stamped by my East Coast upbringing. And of course, music. With the master teacher’s matter-of-fact generosity, Bruno walked his historian friend (me) through the history of musicology, ethnomusicology, his own writings, his beloved students, his friends in the profession, the past and present of the UIUC School of Music. We had to work to bridge our disciplinary cultures; what an immensely entertaining, enriching labor. Our dialogue gave me a feel for Bruno’s gift for mediation between cultures. He scorned to hide behind scholarly jargon, he explained gladly, he gave me a keen feel for the significance of everything from improvisation to the concert we’d heard the night before at the Krannert Center.
Bruno may not have been a historian, but he had an unmistakable eye for periodization, one of the historian’s most important tasks, turning chronologies into meaningful units of time. So, for example, his notion of the seminal 1880s – the moment of publications by figures like Guido Adler and Alexander Ellis that announced a global conception of musicology – was entirely original. It challenged convention notions of European intellectual history: the late nineteenth century belonged to the zenith of European imperialism (to borrow a phrase from William Langer), and most scholars assume that intellectual life must have been correspondingly permeated by imperial attitudes. To a considerable degree it was, and Bruno was fully aware of that; but he pointed to the existence of a profoundly important counter-culture of sympathetic engagement with non-European cultures which led through figures like Stumpf and Boas to the best achievements of the twentieth-century cultural sciences, including ethnomusicology. For years I’ve tested Bruno’s conception of the seminal 1880s and found it true and fruitful.
A few years ago, I interviewed Bruno for the journal Itinerario (41/2, 2017). I asked him whether it was the experience of multi-cultural Prague that had turned him into an ethnomusicologist. His answer was an emphatic no. Being a child was so difficult in Prague; you never knew which language to address adults in. Once his family landed in the U. S., he told me, he put on a baseball cap and never looked back. I don’t know if that answer is quite definitive; we shall never know, perhaps he could not know, what mixture of childhood experience and adult reflection on his family odyssey entered into his horizonless humanism. What matters in the end is not how he got there, but the way of life he lived and shared, endlessly cosmopolitan and happily local, with so many friends, colleagues, students, and other admirers around the world.
For me, personally, he was one of the greatest advisors and the kindest people. He not only agreed to get to know "Georgian stranger", but despite his health issues arranged several meetings to discuss my research, introduced amazing colleagues at the University of Illinois and gave unique books as a present. I'll never forget those precious moments...
Dear Wanda,
I was very sad to hear of the demise of Bruno, my nearest relative whom I dearly loved. You probably know that as children we were good friends – I have some sweet photos of the two of us, and one formal photo of the four cousins – the children of Paul, Grete, Marta and Anton (Tonschi)_ - who all had an only child. And of course Bruno, as a sparkling little boy bringing light to the rather somber gathering of cousins.
Bruno and I were brought up to know one another quite well though we lived for the most of those early years, apart – Prague and Vrchlabi – but we got to see each other at various times and I was quite in love with him! He was such a fire-cracker of a kid – he was so smart and active – I both loved him and feared his cleverness and competitiveness. In the absence of siblings I think both he and I treated one another as such – and though he was almost the same age as me, he was quite definitely the ‘older brother’. I always looked forward to the fierce competitiveness which he instilled into our exchanges and was jealous of his cleverness and – even at that age – knowledge and brains – as well as a huge personality! After his visits I always swore to myself that I would try to emulate his fierce interest in so many aspects of life about which he seemed to know everything!
When we had to emigrate from the ‘Sudetenland’ in 1938 and move to Prague in anticipation of getting out of Czechoslovakia altogether – I was quite excited – but more because it meant that I would be living closer to Bruno! So spending some months there I saw a lot more of him than his occasional visits to Vrchlabi. I think it was with him – and no doubt an adult present – that I saw Smetana’s ‘The Bartered Bride’ sung in Czech, at the famous Prague Opera House, which has stayed with me all these years, laughing at the silly story and no doubt through Bruno, admiring the music. I can still sing some of the silly libretto and still enjoy its humour.
In all the years when we lived half a world away from each other – North America and Australia – we did keep in touch and I continued to be amazed at, and proud of , his success in his field. Most recently my daughter Hilary was speaking at a conference in Scotland when she met some young people who told her their field was musicology. So Hilary told them she had an uncle who was a musicologist – Bruno Nettl – and they couldn’t contain their excitement – calling out to their friends that here was a person who was related to the Great Bruno Nettl! I did write to Bruno about this as I thought it was a great story – his fame amongst these young scholars in Scotland and the whole episode which I thought was lovely!
So you can see from these disconnected little vignettes that I both cherish his memory and felt involved a little in his life.
I was on the point of writing to congratulate Bruno on turning 90 – having re-read his charming ‘Perverse at Eighty’ book only recently - only to be shocked that it obviously already ten years old when I got Becky’s sad email telling me of his death. As I am almost the same age as him – I think two months younger – it was even more poignant. Please accept my deepest condolences - I know what a great sorrow this must be for you – which as I suggest by the above little notes – I can at least partly share. So I hope that the idea of sharing such reminiscences will be both sad but also appropriate in remembering this great sparkling giant of an intellect but also a wonderful man.
My dearest love to you and the family.
I am sad to learn of his passing. As an undergraduate and graduate student I met him a few times and loved his mind, humanity, common sense, and humor. My students read his work. He was very kind, and funny.
To the family of Bruno Nettl –
I will always remember Bruno as an indefatigable concert-goer. My husband, Howard, and I also attended many concerts, and Bruno was always there before us. Bruno usually liked what he heard, or could at least find something he liked in the performance. I always enjoyed these brief discussions with Bruno after the concerts, and will miss them.
One cannot talk about Bruno without mentioning his wonderful poems. They were funny, sometimes poignant, and always a pleasure to read.
You may not know it, but Bruno first knew Howard when Howard was a student in Princeton University, and Bruno was a student in Princeton High School. They both played the viola in a student orchestra. Although Howard left the orchestra because he thought the conductor totally inadequate, Bruno, in his amiable way, was able to stick it out. Because of this orchestra, Bruno was able in later life to say that Howard was the person at the University of Illinois who he had known the longest. Bruno seemed to enjoy that fact.
Bruno was an ideal academic. His history of publications, lectures, support of graduate students, travel in pursuit of information, field work, and visiting professorships was exceptional. Also exceptional were Bruno’s delicious cakes, which he served with pleasure to his colleagues, family, and friends.
My condolences to his family and to all those close to him.
I’m reading the final book of Liu Cixin’s famous science fiction trilogy The Three-Body Problem called Death’s End. I’m not that far so haven’t discovered death’s end just yet, but I’ve been reflecting on its dark, almost dystopian attitude towards life in the past 24 hours as I’ve been surrounded by news of the passage and emergence of life. In it, a powerful alien scolds humanity for its presumption of feeling entitled to live. In a way, this seems a sensible caution. Entitlement is almost always bandied about as a weapon and it’s an effective, seemingly truthful taunt in the context of the book… But I do feel entitled to live. I can’t help it. How could I not? Everyone with life is, to me, entitled to it. But the past 24 hours has reminded me that, however entitled I feel against my will, life is a gift: a mysterious gift.
I was sitting in an incredibly comfortable, seemingly empty (of patients anyway) hospital in Pudong, Shanghai, China watching my wife slowly experience contractions closer and closer together as our daughter knocked on the door to come hang out with us. Like inverted water torture each drip of a contraction from midnight one day through midnight the next on to 7AM brings joyful resolution closer step by cramping step… At least for the dad sitting on the sidelines of biological magic. I was sitting there watching my wife when I received the expected, but shocking nonetheless, news that Bruno Nettl had passed away. As a friend put it, he’s a legend. As another put it, he’s a beloved grandfather. For people who have never really thought about ethnomusicology, he’s likely anonymous. But for people in the field, he’s a founder, a father figure, a force of life. In the 1950s, when a few musically-inclined anthropologists broke off to form their own little society (of Ethnomusicology), Bruno Nettl was there. And he has been there ever since. Writing with wit and ease such that anyone can understand what he says. If only I could say the same. My mentor carried his book with him into the field in the early 80s. I carried it with me to London in the late 90s. Perhaps there is some budding student now carrying it virtually on a kindle as they set foot on a graduate campus somewhere. His name is one of the few that can be invoked across our disciplinary borders and receive recognition. He was on my doctoral committee and was too ill to come to my defense, but made a point of catching me in the hall to share his enthusiasm for my dissertation. He was good at catching people in the halls, a daily quest for conversation, companionship, and coffee. His great-granddaughter is one of my favorite little kids (and of my son) and everyone in the extended Nettl clan in between is worthy of admiration. It’s the end of an era, and of a life worth celebrating.
Its also a weird email to receive as I hear my wife literally grimace with the welcome pain of a labor contraction. A more spiritually-inclined person might highlight the symmetry of life and death almost simultaneously emerging from the shadows like this. There are billions of people in the world, yet each and every birth seems utterly miraculous. How the hell does this 9 lb living thing emerge from the confines of the womb with such precision? How the hell do women survive it? Our daughter emerged relatively painlessly only hours later and the pain of Bruno’s passing receded a bit in the shadow of a new life, our daughter’s finally emerging. And on it goes.
I don’t really think Bruno’s death and my daughter’s life are connected, although a significant enough percentage of the world’s people probably would, such that I should at least acknowledge the possibility. But I do recognize the razor-thin threshold upon which balances the tragedy of death and the miracle of life. Neither could exist without the other. This was brought home to me as I impotently witnessed my wife, who’d had a c-section with our first child. Long story short (and it was a long, 34-hour story), it all went fine… but surgery is surgery and there are enhanced risks the second time around given the reality of the first. As our daughter fought for freedom there were a few troubling indicators that maybe not all was right in the world of the womb. As our Dr. very astutely said, “This isn’t rocket science.” It was a risk. There was no way to know if it would go well. In the end, it did; remarkably well. But there were moments, fleeting as they were, where the prospects of tragedy poked me in the shoulder as I feared the fragility of my wife’s life pushed to the near-breaking point. The horrid phrase “uterine rupture” whispered ominously in my head with every grunt and grimace. The Dr’s own anxiety did little to curtail the leaps to conclusions I was athletically performing. In the room we constructed in our minds for this day there were two doors: life and death. I assumed only one would open today, but after absorbing Bruno’s passing, our daughter’s emerging, and my wife’s tiptoeing along the liminal thread between them it seems pretty clear that both doors are open all the time. It’s the same door, accessible in more than one way. I don’t know if I should feel entitled to live or not, but I certainly feel privileged do so as I do. Saying goodbye to a life well lived and hello to a life yet lived within moments of each other gives weight to joy and hope to sorrow. Perhaps that is death’s end.
Dear Prof. Nettl-Fiol,
I was unsuccessfully trying to reach your mother to express sadness and support on the departure of your dear father, so Phil Bohlman kindly provided me with your address. Heartfelt condolences to the whole family, while dear Bruno continues to live in our best memories. I was immensely glad to see him and praise him recently at the SEM Annual Meeting in Bloomington. My departmental colleagues remember well his visit in Ljubljana a decade ago. His lectures here and also later in Zagreb attracted colleagues from several ex-Yugoslav countries to come together...
Tomorrow, my mother - if still alive - would be exactly 100 years old. She accompanied me while I was teaching at UIUC in 2006, and I vividly remember the kindness and friendship of your parents, which she treasured until the end of her life. Attached please find some nice visual memories from various times and places, including the most recent ones from Bloomington.
With warmest regards to the whole family from Slovenia.
We lost someone very special today. Bruno was our friend, parent of our dear friend Gloria, Rebecca Nettl-Fiol, and husband of the beautiful and amazing Wanda. The circumstances of chatting with him never mattered - it was always a joy. And if you ever had the pleasure of reading anything he has ever written - whether a poem on his Facebook page, or quick note to say thanks or hi, you'd never forget his words. I imagine reading one of his many books is the same. I'm glad that I heard his story of coming to America from his own voice. We will miss you so much. Bruno's Wikepedia, for those who would like to know more of the treasures he brought our world:
A friend to all this lovely man, and truly the brightest star in his musical universe. You will forever be remembered by all of us you touched dear friend.
Good morning, we were saddened yesterday to learn of your father’s death. There are so many wonderful things to say about Bruno, and others more eloquent than I will offer well-deserved tributes in the coming days. For my part, though, I will always remember his kindness, willingness to help, honesty, and trustworthiness in whatever dealings we had. I could always depend on him for wise advice and genuine concern for the wellbeing of our School, faculty, and students. And of course his humor was most enjoyable. Lois and I will write to your mother in the next day or so, but I hope you will extend our sympathy to your family. He will be missed, but never forgotten.
I will always remember his kindness, willingness to help, honesty, and trustworthiness in whatever dealings we had. I could always depend on him for wise advice and genuine concern for the wellbeing of our School, faculty, and students. And of course his humor was most enjoyable.
Dear Wanda,
I write to you to express my sympathy at Bruno’s passing. In the weeks since hearing this news I knew that I would write to you, but I put off sending my letter. Please forgive my procrastination in this regard. I don’t completely understand why I have been reluctant to write, but I think part of it is knowing that it will be one of the last times I write about Bruno, at least in a very personal way, and in particular to you, because along with Bruno you have always been kind and generous to me.
Before I knew who Bruno was (!) I was interested in North American Indian music. I ordered his master’s thesis and made a copy of it. Then in 1979, I applied for an NEH summer grant. Bruno was running one of those and he accepted my application and that’s when I first experienced Urbana and got to know him and you, and the UI campus. I applied for doctoral studies and spent the next two years in Urbana, eventually took my exams, etc. I do remember that when I was there for my preliminary exams that Bruno and you were kind enough to take me to dinner one evening and that was very nice.
That summer of 1979 was fun because Bruno had selected a lively group of folks and by the end of the 8 weeks together we had had several dinners and parties. We did a dinner at your home of Chinese foods. At the end of the summer we wrote a funny index of articles as a fake festschrift in honor of Bruno. I was already impersonating him (something I have continued to do every now and again!) and we had a great time.
Bruno was always kind. Yes, he could be strong and imposing through his tone, but he was essentially kind. When I arrived as a doctoral student I expected to have Bruno as my advisor, but to my surprise I was assigned to Larry Gushee. But the fact is that Bruno was always available to me if I had questions or wanted to talk about something. That’s the thing I remember most about our interaction. He was always there for his students—for all the students in musicology.
I know that Bruno’s legacy as a scholar and teacher is the crowning glory of discipline and a life od dedication. Important as that is, I would assert that Bruno’s personal integrity, civility, and sheer humanity are also part of his crowning achievements! You probably know that better than anyone.
I was happy to have written poems for Bruno’s 80th and 85th birthdays, and the recent one last fall. I planned on writing one for his 90th and may still do that, at least I have already started it. Of course, I will send you a copy. (And I know I kept coaxing him “…brush up on your shuffle board…” with anticipation of the 90th Birthday Cruise that I was promoting!)
And I must praise you for your own fantastic artistic creations! I was so happy that Bruno sent a copy of the book printed with all your work. I have enjoyed looking at it many times. I only wish I had hung around your house more when I was in Urbana, with the thought that something you made might have fallen into my hands!! You command great beauty and charm in your work. Thank you for sharing that with me.
So, I send my sincere and warmest regards to you, and Becky and Gloria. I don’t believe that one’s spirit disappears or dissolves at death. I think the spirit is strong and endures, although I am not exactly sure how that happens, but I just know from my own life and experiencing the loss of those I have loved, that we will always be connected in one way or another. As Emily Dickenson wrote, “Parting is All We know of Heaven, and All We need of Hell.” Bruno’s voice hides out in numerous publications, in the memory of his words in class and at Treno’s, and in those personal moments, like after my oral exams when Bruno turned to me and said, “You know Rauche, you talk too much!” Now that’s someone who really cared.
My love to you all.
Bruno and I were childhood friends in Prague. During my 6th birthday party, other girls and I teased Bruno about being a year younger than we were. Bruno's quick retort was, "When I get older, I'll catch up with you!"
I didn't remember this incident, but my mother recounted it to me years later. Speaking of my mother, she painted a portrait of Bruno as a child with his mother while in Prague. The painting is still on display at Wanda's house.
International Research Centre for Traditional Polyphony expresses deep sorrow over the passing of the world-renowned scholar; American researcher referred to as “Father of American Ethnomusicology” Bruno Nettl and extends condolences to his family, international ethnomusicological community and all admirers of Nettl’s creation. We had pleasure of cooperating with this legendary figure and will always remember his benevolence and kindness to the unknown to him young colleagues from a distant country.
First of all, we acknowledge professor Nettl’s great support in Georgian translation of the last, third edition of the book “The Study of Ethnomusicology: Thirty-three Discussions” – the all time and most important book in ethnomusicology. Thanks to his application, we received permission from the University of Illinois to translate the book at a bargain price; which allowed Georgian ethnomusicologists to get familiarized with this unique work.
How can we not appreciate his friendly gesture – to join the 7th International Symposium on Traditional Polyphony (2014) by Skype; which added particular meaning to the Tbilisi Forum.
Young specialists of the Centre – doctoral students Nino Razmadze and Teona Lomsadze will remember the meetings with Prof. Nettle during their scientific-research visits to the USA, throughout their lives. When the great scientist and hospitable host shared to them not only his knowledge, but also the warmth of his family.
Invaluable is Prof. Bruno Nettl’s contribution to the development of contemporary ethnomusicological science. The innovative approaches characteristic of his writings and free thinking will always be exemplary in the history of ethnomusicology.
TMKC also expresses deep condolences to the world-recognized scientist, ′′ Father of American ethnomusicology ′′ and expresses sympathy to his family, the international ethnomusical society and all admirers of Netli's work. We had the happiness to work with this legendary person and will forever remember the kindness and kindness he showed to him unknown young colleagues from a distant country.
First of all, we celebrate Prof. Bruno's great support in ethnomusicology of all time and most important book The Study of Ethnomusicologology: Thirty-Three Discusions in the case of translating the third edition into Georgian - it is based on his intermediate that the University of Illinois gave us permission to translate the book at an affordable price, which gave us the opportunity to learn this unique work for Georgian ethnomusics .....
Or how can we not appreciate his friendly gesture - Skype to the 7th International Symposium of Traditional Multi-Voice in 2014, whose participation has acquired a special scale from the Tbilisi Forum.
Our center's young staff - Dr. Nino Razmadze and Teo Lomsadze will be followed by meetings for a lifetime Prof. During their scientific and research visits to America with Nettle, when a great scientist and hospitable host shared the warmth of his family with knowledge.
Prof is priceless. Bruno Netli's year in the development of modern ethnomusic menus. Innovative approaches characterized by his writings and free thinking will remain an example in the history of ethnomusicology.
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International Research Centre for Traditional Polyphony expresses deep sorrow over the passing of the world-renowned scholar; American researcher referred to as “Father of American Ethnomusicology” Bruno Nettl and extends condolences to his family, international ethnomusicological community and all admirers of Nettl’s creation. We had pleasure of cooperating with this legendary figure and will always remember his benevolence and kindness to the unknown to him young colleagues from a distant country.
First of all, we acknowledge professor Nettl’s great support in Georgian translation of the last, third edition of the book “The Study of Ethnomusicology: Thirty-three Discussions” – the all time and most important book in ethnomusicology. Thanks to his application, we received permission from the University of Illinois to translate the book at a bargain price; which allowed Georgian ethnomusicologists to get familiarized with this unique work.
How can we not appreciate his friendly gesture – to join the 7th International Symposium on Traditional Polyphony (2014) by Skype; which added particular meaning to the Tbilisi Forum.
Young specialists of the Centre – doctoral students Nino Razmadze and Teona Lomsadze will remember the meetings with Prof. Nettle during their scientific-research visits to the USA, throughout their lives. When the great scientist and hospitable host shared to them not only his knowledge, but also the warmth of his family.
Invaluable is Prof. Bruno Nettl’s contribution to the development of contemporary ethnomusicological science. The innovative approaches characteristic of his writings and free thinking will always be exemplary in the history of ethnomusicology.
Dear Gloria, Becky, and Stefan -
So deeply sorry to hear this sad, sad news. I am so grateful for having known Bruno and had the opportunity to study with him. He shaped everything about my life and career. Please accept my deepest sympathies to you all at this time and please give my love and hugs to your mum. I am so glad that I had the opportunity to visit with them both in November, before the SEM conference. Rest in Peace, Bruno - you will be missed.
Dear Natalie,
Your grandpa Bruno was a dear friend of mine. I knew him since about 1976, and we met every now and then either in the U.S. or in Europe. In between, we exchanged letters, books (and later, emails) quite frequently. In about 2000 (or, maybe, a little later) he had some lectures to give in various universities in Germany as well as (I think) in his native Prague, and since he had a few days off between these lectures, he came to stay with me and my wife at our house in the country (about 25 miles east of the City of Hamburg, and about 15 miles south the old Hanse City of Luebeck, which almost borders on the Baltic Sea - it is less than 10 miles from the City Center to the coast, where the nearest seaside resort is called Timmendorder Strand meaning "Timmendorf Beach").
You have to know that Bruno had spent half a year or even more as a very young scholar at the University of Kiel in the 1950s (Kiel is a harbour city on the coast of the Baltic Sea about 50 miles north from here. It is the capital of the Schleswig-Holstein, one of the 17 German States and Free Cities). So he knew this area from his previous stay quite well eben though that had been decades ago.
When he was with us for a weekend, we decided to take a trip to Luebeck (which is a marvellous medieval town that has been restored, to a considerable extent, in its historical setting after severe damages Luebeck had suffered from World War II bombings). In Luebeck, one of the famous places to go is a café called "Niederegger". As the name indicates, they originally did come from Austria (in fact, from Salzburg as Protestant refugees leaving Catholic Austria, about 300 years ago). Niederegger is not only a café, but also a company that produces MARZIPAN, and is famous for the quality and variety of their MARZIPAN products. As you know, Bruno was a great fan of MARZIPAN. So we paid a visit to this café where we had some MARZIPAN CAKE of course, and bought some more for his days in Europe (maybe, he saved some of the MARZIPAN to bring it to Wanda).
I attach two photos of Bruno's, one showing him at the entrance to the Niederegger café and Marzipan shop, the other was taken at Timmendorf where we took a walk along the Baltic Sea. I remember those days very well, and I deeply miss Bruno who was a wonderful friend.
Best wishes and kind regards
For me he stood out for his witty and warm personality, his awesome hazelnut cake, his skillful use of facebook where he had over a thousand followers and his deep love for Wanda, his wife of more than 65 years. Though he was born in Prague and lived in Princeton as a child, he became a deeply loyal citizen of Indiana/Illinois for much of his life. May his memory be a blessing.
As for many of us, I was introduced to ethnomusicology through Bruno Nettl. There were no ethnomusicology faculty at my college, so Bruno’s The Study of Ethnomusicology: Twenty-Nine Issues and Concepts guided my first steps into the field. I devoured his insights and copied his writing style—my first ethnomusicology paper, written circa 1991, used humorous subtitles modeled after classic Bruno titles like “TheHarmless Drudge” and “Come Back and See Me Next Tuesday.” When I began the Ph.D. program in Ethnomusicology at the University of Illinois, I learned that this playful use of language was not just a quirk of Bruno’s writing. That same avuncular, light-hearted humor guided every aspect of his teaching, research, and hallway kibbitzing. Academia is a serious, vexing business, but Bruno taught me that it can also be joyful, creative, and social.
When my husband and I visited Bruno and Wanda in November of 2019, Bruno talked of writing another monograph and gushed about Wanda’s new art book. We reminisced about my first visit to their home for Marzipan-making in 1995, and we planned what we would eat on our next visit. Though Bruno’s body was frail, his humor, vitality, generosity, warmth, and love for family were as strong as ever. He inspired me as much in his final days as he had in those long-ago first encounters. I am forever grateful to count myself among the many students whose creativity Bruno nurtured and cherished.
—Anna Schultz, March 14, 2021
What a long and lively life story of a dear man and giant in the field of enthnomusicology. Gloria Roubal and Rebecca Nettl-Fiol you are in my heart today. I had the privilege of designing one of Bruno’s many books—coincidentally the one mentioned here. May his memory be for a blessing.
It is with great sadness that I've received the news of Bruno's passing away.(courtesy of Joe Katz….)
I sincerely hope this was not a parting full of suffering.
I remember visiting him and Wanda in 2014 during our concert tour in the U.S. and shall always cherish the memory of his vibrant, full of life, intellectually inquisitive demeanor.
I will let my Mom know of the news—I'm sure she will be equally saddened. Dad always valued Bruno's friendship. They're probably arguing some musicological stuff "up there" with great delight.
May time give you peace of mind. Our warmest wishes are with you.
I've been thinking about the stories I'd tell about Bruno. He really was an important figure in my career and in my life. I got to know him here first as a mentor and over the years came to think of him as a friend, despite the considerable age gap between the two of us. One of the first things Bruno did when I got here has really stuck with me, for what it said about his interest in helping me along, but also in connecting with me as a true colleague. Within the first couple of months that I'd been here Bruno took me out to coffee to propose that we organize a conference on improvisation. I was happy to say yes, though I didn't have much idea what would be involved. He ended up doing very nearly all the heavy lifting. Sent out the invitations, managed the schedule, made sure we had the funding in place, and such. But he absolutely shared the intellectual element, never dominating the conversation about who to bring or what we wanted to accomplish. And he always shared the credit. The same was true when it came time to publish the edited volume that flowed from that conference. He managed the relationship with the press and did most of the wrangling, getting people to submit their manuscripts, do edits, and so on. In the end he was happy to let me write the introduction, giving himself only a preface, and to have my name listed first as the "senior editor." I've always been struck by how much that helped me. It was no small thing on my tenure papers, and in my visibility in the field (I did publish with Bruno Nettl, after all!) and it took some real pressure off as I went up the ladder.
In later years that kind of mentoring relationship--where he was doing things to help me--gave way to a genuine friendship that rested on a more equal footing. He still regularly offered bits of advice, which I was happy to receive, but he did so in a way that signaled that he saw me as an equal in some significant sense. And that too was important and valuable to me.
I hope, in the end, that he got as much from our relationship as I did. I got the sense that he did.
I know, toward the end, things got harder for him. I am glad we got to spend time together as I was able to bring things to the relationship that he needed help with. Sometimes that meant helping with practical things, but more it meant keeping him in the loop about the discipline. Reporting back from conferences I went to, and so on as he found it harder to travel.
I miss Bruno, but I am really happy to have had so many years to know him.
...such a fine person—a real mensch among mensches.
He has left a long and beautiful shadow, and big boots to fill.
Dear Becky,
As I sat down to munch some veggies and hummus for lunch, I opened Facebook and saw your notice. I¹m so sorry to hear of your dad’s death. Jim always spoke of him with highest regard. As for me, I counted myself lucky for having met him a couple of times. His mental acumen and life force were inspiring. That was a long time ago, but the memory is vivid. I know you¹ll hear from Jim directly, but wanted to share my own condolences to you and all your family.
The world is a brighter place because Bruno walked it.
Bruno changed our lives and made the world a better place. His passing leaves us and the world poorer.
Dear Rebecca (aka 'Becky' from the "good old days of yore"),
Please accept our deepest condolences as we just now heard from Susan and David Barron that your father has passed.
Nancy (Wagner) and I hope that you will share our thoughts with the entire Nettl family.
Your father, "Professor Nettl," was such a genuine, warm, vibrant, and engaging personality who as you all know so well, delved deeply and passionately into his research. His global view of world music instilled a keen interest in us in learning for the pure joy of experiencing a new and vibrant way of listening. Specifically, in your father's African Music survey course, he generously and purposefully shared his knowledge not only on the music of West African communities, including the Yoruba and Ewe talking, signal, festival drumming and their singing traditions. Then moving into the embiere and amadinda music from Uganda, the sanza thumb -piano traditions and amazingly, the 4-part harmony singing developed independently of the Western Art Music traditions. His generosity extended to having William Amawaku, who you probably remember quite well share in a number of those presentations. Bill, an Ewe master-drummer, having arrived from his studies at the University of Ghana with K. Niktia, contributed his first-hand experiences with your father's unequivocally support. Together, your father and Bill imprinted on our psyche that these musical traditions were inseparable, and intrinsically interwoven with dance (and often song), the celebrations, and the rites of passage into the fabric of each societies traditions.
Nancy and I sincerely appreciated how your father was able to help Bill organize the Ewe drumming class that we both enrolled in for the entire year, which we thoroughly enjoyed. All of this occurring at the height of the Viet Nam war, the March on Washinton and so many of the critically important civil rights protests going in this country at that time and a country, perhaps even more fragile, today. Your father's dedicated work resonated well beyond the fields of music and anthropology Dr. Martin Luther King Day is this Monday. I think with fondness how your father's course embraced the true spirit of diversity and inclusion. Nancy's roommate at that time, Martha Davis, a PHD student in anthropology, took many of your father's courses and on weekends we would have long late-night conversations while making bread and playing Scrabble discussing issues brought up in class. My introduction to Persian music, performing with a group of students from that region was also a direct result that grew out of students studying with your father.
Alas, a few years ago, the last time I was on the U of I campus, your father was ill and while we both were hoping to set up a get-together, he wasn't well enough for that to happen.
I hope that perhaps this video link embraces the spirit of what your father shared with me, which in turn I have passed on to students that I have had the pleasure of working with throughout my career. In some small way, I hope that it will provide you and the family with some sense of comfort and a small token of my appreciation for your father's consummate guidance. https://global.oup.com/us/companion.websites/9780190902957/res/ch1/2/
I loved both of my parents so much that the notion I might be orphaned again never crossed my mind. I would cite a Yorùbá proverb about mighty elephants, but you covered that ground pretty thoroughly. So let’s just say a tomcat has stretched, and yawned, and said, this is enough. Like many others whose lives you bettered, all respect, power, and love to you Bruno Nettl.
Thank you for sharing this sad mews, Ursula. It is like the end of an era as Bruno was the youngest member of the small group of scholars who founded the SEM in the mid-1950s. Bruno went on to write several books which helped to define the discipline of ethnomusicology. He and Alan Merriam (my PhD Adviser) were good friends and visited each other’s institutions regularly. When Alan died tragically in a plane crash, Bruno took on the role of my former Adviser and facilitated opportunities for which I will always be grateful. He was a person of great charm and generosity. Rest in peace, Bruno.
Ethnomusicology has lost one of its most brilliant lights, and I have lost a friend I love. Bruno Nettl was a wise, strong, perceptive, and hilarious teacher, writer, poet, musician, and scholar. His work on Native, Iranian, and South Indian music, not to mention his deep involvement with the development of ethnomusicology, brought continuous new material into our minds and our classrooms.
Dear Wanda, Becky, and Gloria:
Today is a sad day, but also, I think, a happy one. I have been very aware of Bruno’s absence in the weeks since I returned. When I pass by Espresso Royale at the Crossing, where he and I used to go often for coffee, I expect to see him there, and I find myself looking for his car to know whether he got there before me. He was truly my best friend in Champaign-Urbana, and he has left a big hole in my daily life here. But at the same time I see on Facebook how much he meant to his students and his colleagues, and I think how very lucky I am to have known him. I came late into his life, only arriving here near the end of 2007. But he welcomed me in warmly and made room for me, when other people were stand-offish. So kind and generous with his ideas and knowledge and friendship! I remember him every day, not just on his birthday, but it is nevertheless a pleasure to have this particular day marked out to celebrate my dear friend. I hope for you, too, there is happiness in remembering him on this day.
Philip (and I know Tinuk feels the same)
