Lawrence.com

There will be no record release show for Pat Stuckemeyer's new CD.

No in-store performance, no street team, no T-shirts, no drink specials.

Pat Stuckemeyer plays the euphonium.

"I don't think we'd have anybody come," jokes the 24-year-old musician. "The audience would probably be other euphonium players : so, rather small."

In fact, Stuckemeyer is the only KU student studying the euphonium at the graduate level. Traditional wisdom dictates that euphonium players should also play trombone and tuba if they actually want to get a job, as most orchestras don't employ euphoniums.

Thankfully, military bands are still hip to euphoniums. Unfortunately there are only nine bands with two euphoniums apiece.

"You consistently have to prepare and be at the top of your game just waiting for a spot to open," Stuckemeyer says. "Late at night, you're in the practice room and your horn is your best friend. You don't really get involved with that typical college life of going out and drinking until midnight and then waking up at 10 a.m. the next day."

The big picture

Unless you frequent Murphy Hall or the countless recitals therein, you probably haven't heard of Pat Stuckemeyer, Mason Tyler, Julius Zilinskas or Yoshie Murakami.

Within their fields, however, these young musicians are emerging virtuosos. They've come from distant locales to study in an environment where they could hone their skills to be the best in the business - the only way to succeed at their respective trades.

A quick glimpse into the lives of these musicians reveals one common thread: sacrifice.

"It's something I don't think I'll ever get tired of, because there's no top - you can't ever reach the summit," says Tyler, a 21-year-old undergrad trumpet major from Derby. "Nobody can do everything, so it's nice to be able to dedicate yourself to one thing."

Tyler's dream is to play full-time in a professional orchestra, a gig that can attract hundreds of candidates for one position. Add to that the frequency of job openings (about five a year, by Tyler's estimate) and it's easy to understand why the stakes are so high.

"I try not to worry about things too far down the line," Tyler says. "If you worry about something five years from now you're not really going to accomplish anything now."

Seeking every advantage he can get, Tyler frequents record stores and garage sales to amass a personal library of classical CDs and LPs. He's long since abandoned his devotion to high-school favorites like Incubus and Sublime.

"I'm trying to absorb as much as I can, so that stuff gets shoved out of the way a little bit," he says. "I don't want to limit myself, but if I'm going to play in an orchestra someday I figure I should listen to the stuff that I'm going to play."

When questioned whether performing music at a high-pressure level is "fun," Tyler answers with a question: Is anything always fun?

"I'm sure a lot of professional athletes don't always find it fun," he says. "Sometimes you have to look a little more big-picture : When things are going well, it's definitely fun."

Big in Europe

If anyone understands the meaning of "big picture," it's Julius Zilinskas. The 26-year-old

doctoral percussion student abandoned his home in Lithuania so he could study at KU. He says that America is simply "more advanced" in the field.

"Lithuania is just a little bit slower," says Zilinskas, who left behind a full-time gig with a Lithuanian opera. "We had marimbas, but they were shorter - not five octaves. We couldn't play some of the music because it would require lower bars."

To pursue his dream of playing in a big-city symphony, Zilinskas had to adjust to the culture shock of being thousands of miles away from home. When he arrived in Lawrence in August 2002, he barely even spoke English.

"The first year was pretty dark," he recalls. "I didn't have anything to do. I didn't have any Lithuanian friends to talk to : My head was just tired of focusing on English. It would shut down after 15 minutes."

Despite his improving language skills, Zilinskas still experienced a number of frustrations with his new home. He was surprised by the amount of time and money that Americans invested in sports. Furthermore, he was appalled at how few classical ensembles and solo performers came to Lawrence and how expensive the tickets were.

"In Lithuania any weekend you can go see opera or ballet," he says. "In general, people appreciate orchestral music more. Even teenagers go out and buy tickets for the opera. They're excited to get a ticket."

Though Zilinskas is no stranger to rock music (he cites Pantera, Metallica, AC/DC and Queen as favorites), he says classical is his favorite style simply because he grew up listening to the works of composers like Schubert, Rossini, Berlioz, Mahler and Debussy.

"I'm sure if young people would go to a live performance it would be different," he says. "I understand why people would say it's boring : rock is more intense. Younger people are like, 'It wakes me up!'"

One shot

Though Lawrence's pool of aspiring classical musicians are typically working towards degrees, KU students such as Yoshie Murakami say that the diploma is simply a means to the end of studying with great teachers.

"It's very difficult to find the opportunity to study with this level of teacher," says Murakami, a 31-year-old doctoral student from Japan. "Each teacher has a different style and different way of understanding the music."

Nine years ago, Murakami came to Lawrence to study with piano instructors Richard Reber and Sequeira Costa. She says they have helped her reach a deeper understanding of the motivations behind the music she interprets.

"The great artist puts something special into their music," she says. "I am still seeking it - what music I want to make and what I want to express to people."

When Murakami graduates in December, she will return to Japan so she can teach and occasionally perform.

According to Larry Mallett, chair of KU's Department of Music and Dance, such balancing acts are common in today's musical landscape.

"Nowadays there are a lot of very active regional opera companies," Mallett says. "I think the field has really expanded if the students are willing to patch together playing in an orchestra part-time and doing something else."

For the truly dedicated, however, "patching" is a thing to be avoided for as long as possible.

"If I have to do something else, then I have to do something else," Tyler says. "But I only get one shot right now, so I think I'm going to take it."