JORDAN PATTERSON
News Editor
Fredonia lost one of its stars with the death of Carl V. Mazzio, but his legacy will continue to shine.
The former principal trombonist of the Buffalo Philharmonic and Fredonia music lecturer died on Jan. 17 at the age of 53. He is survived by his son Clark Mazzio and his longtime partner Julie Robinson.
Mazzio left an everlasting impact on Fredonia’s School of Music, having taught at Fredonia for 16 years. He conducted the trombone choir and two bands, the Wind Symphony and the All College Band. He also had a private studio in Buffalo where he gave lessons in his spare time. In addition to all of this, he also taught a jazz band at Williamsville East High School.
“Carl Mazzio was, first of all, a person of integrity and class and an artist,” Wind Ensemble Director and music professor Paula Holcomb said, “so, he was an artist in the musical sense.”
Before he ever taught, Mazzio received his Master’s Degree from the Juilliard School of Music, which, according to Holcomb, is the best music conservatory in the country. Mazzio also received a Bachelor of Music degree from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.
While at Juilliard, Mazzio was trained by Joseph Alessi who flew to Buffalo for Mazzio’s memorial service. One of Mazzio’s students, junior education major Andrew Pacht, referred to Alessi as the greatest trombone player alive.
“Carl came out of that lineage,” Holcomb said, referring to Alessi’s teaching.
While playing for the Buffalo Philharmonic, he developed a medical condition called focal dystonia that limited him from being able to play the trombone.
“It was a tragedy,” Holcomb said. “But the integrity of Carl is demonstrated by his ability to remake himself.”
Instead of chasing music’s equivalent to numerous Olympic gold medals, as Holcomb put it, he was now on his way to become a music director. He went the University of Buffalo for music education and began teaching in Buffalo. At this time, Fredonia was in need of a conductor. For Holcomb, his addition to the music department would be incredible just by browsing through his accomplishments, but she just had one question.
“Carl Mazzio is a world class musician; the question is, can he become a conductor?” Holcomb asked.
She knew Mazzio had all of the talent one could hope for but was unsure if he could transition from an all-star player to a superstar coach. After seeing him conduct a 5th grade band, she knew Mazzio had what it takes, but admitted it took him a few years to get into the swing of things.
But the end result was more than Holcomb could have ever hoped for. On top of choosing quality music for the students to play, no matter what skill level, he also had a certain way of teaching that was unmatched.
“He had the ability to touch and connect the students and audiences souls and hearts,” Holcomb said.
Holcomb referenced the many Facebook posts that exploded online after his passing as a way to show how much he had connected with his students.
Professor of music and Assistant Director of the School of Music Barry Kilpatrick didn’t fully understand the impact he had until he saw the numerous Facebook posts. Kilpatrick spoke highly of Mazzio and recognized his work ethic and his drive.
“He made my job much easier,” Kilpatrick said.
When Mazzio came to Fredonia, Kilpatrick was able to focus on other things. Mazzio’s sense of humor and ambition to work much longer than he was required is what continues to stand out for Kilpatrick.
“He had a great sense of humor, and it was fun to work with him,” Kilpatrick said.
Mazzio was only an adjunct teacher and was only paid to do a certain number of hours. But according to Kilpatrick, Mazzio regularly worked much more than he was getting paid for.
“He believed in it. He wanted to do it,” Kilpatrick said. “That’s the kind of guy he was. The willingness to, kind of, go above and beyond because the job was worth it [and] the students were worth it.”
Former Director of Music Education Karl Boelter also commented on his work ethic via email. “Even though he was an adjunct, he was able to recruit great student musicians to his studio,” Boelter wrote. “The students clearly adored him; they appreciated the results he demanded and the commitment to them he demonstrated.”
Holcomb continued to describe her admiration of Mazzio and how his connection with Fredonia students.
“He reached them [at a certain] level and inspired them [and] was a role model for the … ” Holcomb said, trailing off as she became choked up. “I don’t have words.”
She did find her words and explained that Mazzio was a mentor for these students, whether or not they were in his ensemble or not.
Holcomb also mentioned that Mazzio had an eye for talent and knew which students “had the goods.” But despite skill level or career path, he always supported the students’ decisions.
Pacht and another of Mazzio’s students, sophomore sound recording major Jon Fridmann, attested to his teaching style. The pair both played trombone under Mazzio and took lessons from him.
Fridmann changed majors once and Mazzio was incredibly supportive of him.
“Who is this guy?” Fridmann asked when he was taken aback by Mazzio’s unique personality.
“He’s an incredible musician,” Pacht added.
Pacht also mentioned that if Mazzio never developed his medical condition, they probably would’ve never met. But he also mentioned, without disrespect, that they would be referring to Carl V. Mazzio as the greatest trombone player in the country and not Alessi.
“He just made me think in a totally different way about music,” Fridmann said.
Both students also talked about Mazzio’s tendency to tell a story for every occasion.
One story, as random as getting a brain freeze from drinking a slurpee and passing out, left Fridmann confused but apparently that’s just who “Mazz” was, “Mazz” being Mazzio’s nickname. According to Holcomb, the students never called him “Mazz” with any form of disrespect but with “honor.” The students also told stories of his obsession with butterflies and his tendency to mistakenly take students tuners. But they didn’t mind, because that was “Mazz.”
“Everything he does, just has a one-of-a-kind delivery,” Pacht said.
According to the two, Mazzio’s knowledge of music was uncanny. Listening to them play, he would frequently list off composers it reminded him of.
Another notable Mazzio quote was “it’s a secret.”
The two students could barely describe what it meant because only “Mazz” could explain it thoroughly.
Apparently, it was so the students would play mysteriously or soft, just so they wouldn’t come in too hard. Instead of just saying “play soft”, he said “it’s a secret,” and the students understood immediately. Pacht and Fridmann both admitted that it might sound crazy to non-musicians but assured that all of Mazzio’s students understood, and that’s all that mattered.
A memorial service to honor Mazzio’s life was held last Saturday, with over 50 trombone players signed up to perform. People from all over the country were flying in to celebrate Mazzio’s life.
Mazzio’s career was completely over after he developed his medical condition, but he found a new life at Fredonia. How he did it is unknown, but a good guess would be that it was probably a secret.