Meet the man who plays the 10-minute tunes three times a week as you go to class
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Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 12:50 p.m., Tom Anderson plays music on the Tower carillon for 10 minutes. Anderson has been the University´s carillonneur for almost 40 years.
Reaching down from the bench of his practice keyboard console, Tom Anderson pulls sheet music from a stack of papers at the floor.
"This is about my favorite piece to play," he says as he holds the music to "Londonderry Air."
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"Do you know it?"
He looks up eagerly. Delight flashes in his pale blue eyes, accented by white sweeps of hair that fall around them. He begins to sing the tune most people know as "Oh, Danny Boy" in the wistful timbre of a tenor. His thin frame sways to the vibrato of his own voice.
The man behind the music
Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 12:50 p.m., the University's music man treats all within earshot to a 10-minute concert. The 56 bells at the top of the UT Tower ring out in chorus to anything from "La Marseillaise," the French national anthem, to "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" from the musical "Oklahoma." Requests? Please leave them on the first floor of the Main Building. He'll keep them in mind on his way up.
And that is no small feat. From his practice room on the Tower's eighth floor, this 80-year-old musician climbs more steps than he is years old to play music for the UT community. He must ascend a total of 85 steps to reach his console, "his baby," beneath the bells.
Anderson has played the University's mechanical carillon, a set of at least 23 bells tuned to play in harmony, for almost 40 years.
"He still takes those stairs two at a time," said Chris Humphrey, a College of Engineering staff member who plays duets with Anderson on Fridays. "I can't keep up with him."
The University houses the largest mechanical carillon in Texas. It controls the "Westminster Peal" that plays on the quarter hour and the single ring of the largest bell, the B flat, weighing in at over three tons, on the hour. Manual control is needed for the mechanical feature that allows anything to be played from the cabinet, or playing room, beneath the bells. In the cabinet, Anderson plays year-round on a keyboard console that is connected to the bells' clappers.
Music is a central theme in his life, Anderson said. It is not a matter of conscious thought, but rather second nature. When Anderson was born, his mother taught piano in his hometown of Nocona, Texas. Even as a baby, he had an ear for music.
"When his older brother would go to the piano and play discordant sounds, it'd make Tom cry," said his wife, Norma Anderson, with a chuckle as she recounts a story Anderson's mother used to tell. "What that means is, Tom innately had a good sense of pitch."
At age 7, he learned to play the piano, a passion that remains close to his heart nearly three-quarters of a century later. A cardboard box sitting next to his piano at home overflows with sheet music and teaching books, stacked twice as tall as the box itself.
Nine cabinets that stretch the width of the Andersons' living room hold hundreds of records and CDs, and dozens of cassette tapes are categorized by genre in plastic compartments by the television. The recently played ones -"Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 3" and "Beethoven's Symphony No. 1" - sit on top of the case.
If Tom Anderson is at home, music is playing, his wife said.
"When Tom walks in, he turns on the radio, and if he doesn't like what's on the radio, he puts on his own music."
Anderson has even transformed his answering machine recording into a clever musical creation. He sings the greeting, complete with the scale degrees of his phone number. This idea has prompted callers to leave everything from praise for his wit to entire messages in song.
Carrying on the tune
Anderson's singing does not stop there. He also lends his vocal talents to the Austin community, participating in a number of local choral groups. He sings in two of his church's choirs, for one of which he also plays hand bells, and performs with a community chorus called Austin Singers. Anderson also performs with The Singing Men of Texas, an all-men's chorus that holds concerts once every month in a different South Texas city. In the past, he has taught piano, volunteered as the choir director for Oak Springs Elementary School and traveled around the world as a member of a mixed choir called The Morris Beachy Singers.
"He's enthusiastic after all these years, unstoppable and totally committed to it," Humphrey said.
Anderson became carillonneur in 1952 at the age of 29 during his undergraduate career at the University, where he earned both a bachelor's and master's degree in music. His predecessor, his older brother David, served as carillonneur until 1952 and taught Anderson to play the carillon before ending his term that year.
Anderson's involvement with the University extends beyond the carillon, however. He has been part of the UT community for more than half his life. While in school, he played clarinet in the band and was a member of the UT's Chamber Singers, one of the University's choral groups. Anderson later returned to campus where he held an administrative position for 23 years at the UT International Office until his retirement in 1989. While he was working for the office in 1967, he resumed his seat at the console and has remained carillonneur ever since.
Reaching out through song
Anderson's experience with international students has greatly influenced his mid-afternoon concerts on campus. He keeps a list of other countries' national days on his music stand, and using a book titled "National Anthems of the World," Anderson plays the appropriate piece on each country's national holiday. With more than 100 countries represented on campus, Anderson feels it is important to recognize that diversity.
His effort has not gone unnoticed. Anderson said he receives calls from ethnic and cultural organizations on campus asking him to pay tribute to their represented countries, requests he gladly fulfills.
Anderson has also played the carillon in honor of significant memorial events. During the Kent State protests in 1970, when the University held a memorial event on the South Mall, he played Simon and Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Waters." Afterward, Anderson said students told him what a calming effect his music had on them. While Lyndon B. Johnson's body lay in state at the LBJ Library, Anderson played the president's favorite spiritual at the request of Lady Bird Johnson. He also tolled the bells for the annual UT Remembers ceremony in May in honor of each UT student and staff member who died during the year, a service that he has performed each year since the ceremony's inception in 1998.
In the cabinet beneath the belfry, Anderson opens the windows in order to better hear the smaller bells above him. He stares intently at the music to "The Three Ravens," an English folk song, and counts time under his breath as he begins to play. The clappers strike the bell metal as he presses the keys and taps the pedals. A makeshift plaque hangs behind him. Its slats of wood are etched in pencil with the names and term dates of every UT carillonneur since 1950. Anderson's name appears next to that of his brother, David. He switches to another English piece, "Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes," and finishes just in time for the hourly strike of the B flat.
Anderson said he enjoys creating musical memories for the UT graduates through the carillon.
"It's a tie that will last well beyond their experience as students," he said. "It must be something like when you smell a fragrance or hear a song, and it takes you back to a moment."
For those who know him, Anderson is the face behind the carillon and the life behind the music.
"He is the man in the Tower," Humphrey said. "I don't know how they're going to find someone as dedicated and loyal as he is when he can't do it any more."
For now, however, Anderson has no plans to step down.
"As long as I can make 85 steps," he said, "I'll keep playing."
