Eric Gustafson and Vladimir Pritsker
Music Professors
Memorial Minute for Eric Gustafson and Vladimir Pritsker, Lecturers in Music, presented by Professor Heather Buchman on March 2, 2021.
The Music Department’s adjunct faculty make up a large part of the soul of the department, collectively teaching private lessons for as many as 200 students at any given time. Sadly, since November we have lost not one but two colleagues, both of whom have left behind huge holes, and who are greatly missed.
Eric Gustafson served for many years as Principal Viola of the Syracuse Symphony and then Symphoria. Born in 1948 in Kansas City, he studied at Juilliard, then joined the SSO in 1979, and our faculty in 2001.
Eric was a consummate orchestral musician – and he loved going to work every day. Just before getting his cancer diagnosis, he had broken his wrist and still went to rehearsal that day. If you can imagine holding a viola with a broken wrist, that’s impressive!
One high point of his career was in 2009 when the Symphony performed Richard Strauss’ Don Quixote, a tone poem for cello, viola and orchestra. The cello soloist, a guest artist, got top billing. But the viola part is nearly as demanding as the cello part. And Eric’s performance, sitting in his regular spot at the front of the viola section, was equally as masterful as the cellist. As an artist and a person he was demure, thoughtful and considerate, understated and gracious.
In addition to teaching viola, he also coached chamber music with different iterations of the Hamstrings quartet. Among his viola students – Jiin Jeong described him as “kind-spirited and peaceful,” Molly Osinoff called him “a wonderful teacher, encouraging and helpful.” Citing his “unwavering patience and warmth,” Samantha D’Angelo recalled a lesson when she hadn’t had time to practice that week: “He was so gentle and kind throughout the lesson that I felt a sense of calmness that I was beyond grateful for.” Eric introduced Jiin to Rebecca Clarke’s Viola Sonata, which then inspired Jiin’s recent Levitt Center Winter Research project on women composers. Eric passed away on November 10, so he didn’t see that seed he planted come to fruition. We were blessed to have this gentle spirit in our department for 18 years.
More recently we learned that our dear friend and colleague Vladimir Pritsker passed away on January 20. Born in 1945 in Ukraine, Vladimir came to the United States in 1986 and joined the Syracuse Symphony shortly after, where he sat 3rd chair in the first 1st violin section. He joined our faculty in 1997.
Vladimir did not fit comfortably inside the box of section violinist. He was more of a soloist at heart, and of a particular mold – he loved playing flashy Pagannini solos and pieces with a dramatic gypsy flare – the more schmaltz, the better! One thing he was infamous for – whenever there was a guest violin soloist playing with the orchestra, during break Vladimir would play the same violin concerto backstage, which is obviously a huge faux pas. But he sounded great! As Orchestral Strings Coach for HCO, he would dispense his knowledge about string technique, and orchestra rehearsals frequently turned into improv comedy hour in Wellin Hall. His advice to the violins on how to fake: “Play hell knows what notes – but play them in the right place!” As Margie Morgan-Davie (on our Econ faculty and one of his violin students) observed: “He did not mince words. If we sounded like crap, he told us so. Genially.” He always dished it out with a twinkle in his eye, and the students ate it up. He was so entertaining, even the wind players listened to him as eagerly as the string players did! One year the violin students compiled a collection of Vladimir’s more memorable or off-the-wall quotes and distributed them in a booklet titled “The Spirit of Vladimir.”
In 2012 for medical reasons Vladimir’s wife Tina needed to move to a warmer climate, so he reluctantly left Central NY for Miami, FL. He was just breaking into the freelance scene there when, tragically, he had a stroke. His friend, and our next violin teacher, Andy Zaplatynsky, visited him, and told me that Vladimir was still practicing his violin every day – just his left hand. Vladimir’s dedication to his craft persisted even after his violin went silent – that’s who he was. For the students, colleagues, and friends who knew him and miss him, the spirit of Vladimir lives on.
