The law became her calling, but music never left her

There aren’t too many people who come to a professional crossroads before they turn 13. But Alison Edwards faced such a moment. She had taken up the violin at age seven with none other than Dorothy DeLay as her teacher.

By the age of 12, Alison faced a decision: If she was serious about the violin, she needed to leave her regular school and enroll in the Professional Children’s School in Manhattan. School would be two hours a day, and the rest of the day would be for violin practice. 

“Miss DeLay approached my parents, not me, with this plan, but my parents left it to me,” she recalled recently. “I thought about it a lot, and ultimately said no. Spending five hours a day practicing the violin was in the end not the way I wanted to go. And my parents were okay with that.”

Indeed, Alison had another calling. She went on to the University of Chicago and later to the DePaul University Law School at night and would become a civil rights lawyer, eventually serving in the appellate division of the Cook County Public Defender’s office. 

Her training with DeLay—teacher of Itzhak Perlman, Midori and Gil Shaham, among others—would serve her quite well. Alison played through college, a period that included a lot of chamber music. Those early lessons were enough to get her into the Aspen Music Festival and School when she was seventeen.

After college, though, she had other priorities and put her violin aside. Social justice movements gaining traction in the 1960s came calling, and the 1968 police attacks on demonstrators during the Democratic National Convention in Chicago inspired her to go to law school. She focused on social justice work, in the courts and elsewhere, and on raising her family. Then she stumbled into a conversation that would have a profound impact on her later life. 

“I was working for the public defender, and I was walking through the Federal Building to file a habeas corpus petition for a case I was mad about losing in the state appellate court. I ran into the principal bassist from my college orchestra who asked if I was still playing the violin,” she recalled. 

“No.”

“Well, the Bar Association just started this orchestra that really needs you.”

“I haven’t played for 25 years. I can’t imagine they’d need me.”

“I assure you, we need you.”

“That seemed like a good enough invitation,” she recalled. “So, I started playing again.”

The conversation led to a happy reunion with her violin and chamber music. She joined the orchestra and gradually immersed herself in chamber music. She retired at 57, not so much from her legal career but, as she puts it, to chamber music.

These days, Alison, at age 80, shows no signs of slowing down. She has multiple musical outlets and continues to play with several longstanding groups. A resident of Evanston, Illinois, and Tucson, Arizona, she also co-manages a chamber music retreat in the Chicago area twice a year whose sole purpose is to get people together to play, and play. 

But it all goes back to those early days studying with Dorothy DeLay, a training that would stay with her for life. 

“I was lucky,” she said. “Totally lucky.”

Alison shared her memories of her musical life with us recently. The conversation has been edited for conciseness and clarity. – Bob Goetz

When did you start playing the violin?

I started when I was seven. My father was an adult-onset cellist. He started the cello when I was three or four. After a year of lessons, he got into the local community orchestra in the back of the cello section. They had a children’s concert in which a little prodigy played Symphonie Espagnole, and I was enraptured. I said I wanted to do that. My parents were dubious. They said the violin was too difficult and I should pick an easier instrument. They tried hard to talk me out of it and were pushing the harp and the flute, neither of which interested me. After three years they decided I must be serious. 

How did you end up with Dorothy DeLay as your teacher?

My father asked his cello teacher who a good teacher for kids would be. He reported back that the best teacher for little kids in the New York area was Dorothy DeLay. She taught the younger kids at the Juilliard Preparatory Division, a Saturday music school with a full range of instruction, including theory classes.

My parents contacted her, and I went in for this audition before a group of men in suits and Miss DeLay. It was quite the adventure for a seven-year-old. I played the piano – Bartók Mikrokosmos –  which my father had been teaching me, and sang a song.  Miss DeLay, who was very friendly and addressed me by funny names like ‘pet’ and ‘sugar plum’, had me march around the room too many times to a medley of tunes with changing rhythms. They wanted to know why I wanted to give up the piano for the violin, but I figured that was a trick question and assured them I was not planning to quit piano. I was accepted. Dorothy DeLay, who was so consistently addressed and referred to as Miss DeLay that, as a child, I thought her first name was ‘Miss’, was my teacher from the time I learned how to hold the violin until I was fourteen. 

Was it hard to go back to the violin after a 25-year break?

I wasn’t sure it was going to work. I still had my instrument. I had thought about selling it a number of times but hadn’t. Something in me told me I might want to do this again. 

It took about a year before I felt comfortable. My bass player friend was right. The Bar Association orchestra did need me. 

When did you start playing chamber music?

My father played the cello and my mother played piano. We started playing family trios at home. As I think back on it, we played some challenging music—the Mendelssohn d minor trio, the Trout. My parents must have been pretty good.

When did you join ACMP?

A long time ago. I think I was in college.

Do you have any favorite composers?

It’s really hard to answer. If I had to pick one, it would probably be Beethoven, or maybe Brahms. But really what I like is what I am playing at the moment. 

Do you have any favorite chamber music moments?

That keeps changing. I’d have to say that most of my happiest moments are playing with the groups that I have played with for the longest time, some more than thirty years. One of my Chicago groups has six people and we play with whoever is available. We just know each other’s playing and quirks so thoroughly, that communication is comfortable and the music tends to go well. We played last night – Haydn Op. 20 No. 3 and Beethoven Op. 132 – and I felt a big wave of gratitude and appreciation for everyone, including the composers who keep bringing us together. I count that as the happiest moment, one of many. 

Note from the editor: Alison Edwards joined ACMP on August 10, 2001. So this article marks her twenty-fifth anniversary with ACMP!