1964-1968: Teaching in Minneapolis

1964 Tony White & Christine Dahl, Schubert Club winners - Tied - Jr. Piano

From Christine Dahl: Tony White was studying with Mr. Lillestol when we tied for Schubert Club. Tony is older than I am, maybe two or three years. I was 15 and in ninth grade when we tied, and Tony worked with Mr. Lillestol at least until he graduated from high school. He may have attended the U of MN after that, but I'm not sure.

1965 Thomas Schultz, Schubert Club - Jr. Piano - Schubert Impromptu Op. 90, #3

1966 Tony White, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - performed, piece?

1966 Christine Dahl, MMTA Young Artists Concert - performed, piece not listed; Thursday Musical - Jr. Piano - Haydn - Sonata in A-flat; Chopin - Etude, Op. 25, #7

From Christine Dahl: I was 13 years old and in seventh grade when I started working with him. I won a few MMTA, Thursday Musical and Schubert Club contests while with Mr. Lillestol. Even so, he managed to see me play in public only once. Apparently, he was agoraphobic, and joked that he'd be the one in the back with the paper bag over his head.

1966 August 10: Letter from Philip to Frank Trnka

1967 Christine Dahl, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Chopin - Berceuse; Minneapolis Music Teachers Forum (MMTF) Honors Concert - Chopin - Ballade in A-flat

1967 Frank Trnka, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Prokofieff - Toccata; MMTF Honors Concert - Copland - Passacaglia; Thursday Musical - Sr. Piano - Chopin - c-sharp Scherzo

Frank Trnka at Cambridge, Minnesota High School Graduation, 1967

From Frank Trnka: As I finished my junior year of high school in the small town where I had grown up, it had become clear that, if I was going to pursue a career in piano performance, I needed to find another teacher for my senior year in order to get into the kind of college program I desired. Louise Guhl (who lived far away) was the only other teacher I knew of. She did not have space, but gave me a list of three names in Minneapolis, saying that Philip Lillestol was the best I could get. I wrote to him my goals. He wrote back asking me to come play for him and that we should start as soon as possible, since a year was not a long time to make significant progress in piano. After hearing me, he accepted the challenge and off we went, beginning in late August, 1966. I know Philip had numerous prize-winning students over his teaching career and also his “bread and butter” students that he taught to pay the bills. I don’t know how my experience with him differed from others where he had more years to bring someone to their potential. I only know that he took the commitment he made to me very seriously and pushed me to my limits to get me ready for the challenges ahead.

The months from September to January were spent learning the repertoire I was going to need for a college audition and getting some of those pieces ready for competition. The goal was to unlock the emotional content of each phrase of the music and build an overarching structure of the piece as to how it all fit together into a satisfying whole. Technique was always at the service of communication, and not an end in itself. Never “See, I can play a flashy run!” but rather “Where is this run taking us and how can you use it to communicate with the listener?” He was clearly demanding that I open up my inner emotional life and share that with the listener. Sometimes we would spend a whole hour lesson on one phrase in the slow movement of a Mozart sonata -- a shocking commitment of time, considering all we had to get done -- but he believed that, if we could unlock that one phrase, I could apply that to the rest of the piece, and other pieces as well. His dissatisfaction and despair with my attempts those first months were more intense negative feedback than I had ever experienced before. He pushed until he found my breaking point -- a tearful outburst where I convinced my mother to call him and tell him I was quitting -- I didn’t have the courage to tell him myself. Fortunately, he wasn’t willing to let me get by with that, and insisted my mother put me on the phone -- where he convinced me that his goal was not to get me to go away, but to open myself up and let the music inside me come out. So, even though it wasn’t totally clear to me where this was all going, I agreed to continue working with him, and he now knew my limits and that I couldn’t go on indefinitely with only negative feedback.

Bob Laudon responding to Frank Trnka: Your story of studying with Philip is remarkable. Some of that he probably got from Earl Rymer and the ideas of Olga Samaroff Stokowski. I got through 2 lines of a Beethoven Sonata at my first lesson with Earl (Earl only got through 2 measures with Mme.) The idea was to make the student independent, capable of working alone after intensive work at lessons. I spent 6 months unraveling how to control dynamics.

When February rolled around, he was ready to turn me loose on the world, and from then until mid-June I performed or competed almost every weekend, achieving all the goals I had set for myself the year before.

There was never any question that he was a coach as well as a teacher. He had an innate skill in knowing how to prepare someone for a performance so that they didn’t burn up all their intensity in the warm-up period, but built during that time so the intensity came out in the performance.

I paid for a one-hour lesson per week, but depending what was going on, had as many as 4 lessons a week, plus a warm-up session/pep talk before important competitions or performances.

At the end of May, when the competitive season was over, he set a challenge for me just so we could see what I could do -- from scratch, learn and memorize the Prokofieff Toccata in two weeks and perform it at the MMTA Young Artists recital. This happened. It was certainly not one of the best performances of my career -- and one of the other “technique is everything” teachers made sure I knew how outraged he was by my somewhat high strung performance. But both Philip and I knew that wasn’t the issue in this case -- it had been a private challenge between the two of us, after all the events with long-term consequences were over, to test my limits in another way. The MMTA audience simply got to witness the outcome.

In addition to my successful audition at Oberlin Conservatory, the next few years he also sent a student to Oberlin (Christine Dahl, 1968 and Thomas Schultz, 1970), so that at one point he had one of his students placed with each of the top three piano professors there -- a noteworthy accomplishment.

After my years at Oberlin, I returned to Minneapolis and resumed studying with Philip, as well as doing some graduate studies at the University, including Piano Pedagogy with Louise Guhl. That spring, with a new Mozart concerto in my repertoire, we entered the Music Teachers National Association (MTNA) college division competition and Philip ended up having both the high school (Paul Halvorson) and college winners in the state competition that year.

The enduring legacy that I carried away from my years of study with him is the centrality of communication as the goal in performance -- giving vent to emotions one may not be able to express in any other way, and an absolute intolerance for performers whose fingers do not seem to be connected to their hearts!

1967 Thomas Schultz, MMTF Honors Concert - Chopin - Etude in E 10 #3

1967 Brenda Good, MMTF Honors Concert - Mozart - Sonata in D K311

1968 Christine Dahl, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Chopin - Barcarolle

1968 Thomas Schultz, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Brahms - Rhapsodie 119 #4; Schubert Club - Sr. Piano - Brahms - Intermezzo 118 #6

From Thomas Schultz: Thinking of Mr. Lillestol: his limitless generosity, his wit, his special insights into music, literature, art, his holding us (sometimes frustratingly so) to the absolute highest of standards. I remain especially grateful for his teaching of the music of Bach, Mozart and Schubert and for his open-mindedness about 20th century music. It's particularly interesting that he was able to craft such a distinguished career as a piano teacher - a profession so closely bound to tradition and to traditional measures of accomplishment - and, at the same time, able to provide a model of a life lived according to values largely different from those of the mainstream culture. I think of, among many other things, his wall of books, the modern paintings on his apartment walls, his old Steinway (which he told me had "once been a noble instrument"), his mentioning to me of his feelings of "deep antipathy" for Richard Nixon and, after his trip to California, his lamenting the absence of an urban culture in that part of the world (in comparison with NYC and Paris). Then there was the time when he gleefully told me of how he declared himself an atheist at the age of ten!

After leaving Minnesota I would visit him on return trips and, so, was an occasional witness to the changes that took place as he aged, changes that were, at times, puzzling. Certainly, I was a beneficiary of his particular fate and can only think back, remembering the contradictions of his personality and the intensity of his living.

1969-1971: Teaching in Minneapolis

1969 Mark Sell, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Chopin - b-flat Scherzo

From Mark Sell,  December 30, 2011:
Phillip Lillestol took me on in October 1966, when I was in tenth grade. Two years later, for nine months, he goaded, encouraged, challenged and pummeled me to reach new levels until Chopin’s Scherzo in B-flat minor was embossed in the brain for life. 

To this day, after 43 years, I have the bedraggled sheet music, taped together with frantic markings (PITCH and TONES! ARM RATHER THAN WRIST! NO CHEATING IN RIGHT HAND! TOO FRENETIC!) and one page in the most difficult passages ripped from sheer intensity.

His big farmer’s hands attacked the soul of the music, and his visceral yet disciplined approach stuck. “These are great human documents!” he’d say, rolling up his white shirt sleeves and seizing the piano to demonstrate as he sung the melody; he imparted rigor in the service of spiritual communication. The comments In the Fantasie-Impromptu, which I also still have, are even more violent. (RUSHING! TOTAL LACK OF SENSE! SIMPLE, STRAIGHTFORWARD! LISTEN TO TAPE – Oh, God, those humbling tapes.)

I looked forward to the Friday lessons with eagerness and dread and even then knew he was a coach for life. Northrup Auditorium scared me, especially as I had seen and heard Artur Rubinstein play that very Scherzo in that very place less than two months prior. But I somehow got through it and gave it my best, and The Great Taskmaster bounded backstage afterward, beaming with pride and congratulating me for “outstanding musicianship.” 

I went away to school soon thereafter, but returned for lessons and visits when in town over the next several years. He went easier, but noticed with mild dismay a certain relaxation in technique. Sometimes we passed the time over drinks at his Florence Court apartment; he was a great companion with deep erudition and an opinion on everything. 

All these years later, whether confident or wobbly, I return to that battered copy of Chopin’s scherzos, throw my all into the good old B-minor, feel the tonic surging through the bones (while keeping time), and give thanks to Phillip Lillestol, a great teacher and a great coach. I will carry that battered old sheet music to the grave, as long as there’s a piano somewhere nearby.

1969 Brenda Good, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Bach - P & F in b-flat

1969 Thomas Schultz, Thursday Musical - Sr. Piano - Copland - Passacaglia

1969 Paul Halvorson, Schubert Club - Jr. Piano - Brahms - Rhapsodie in b minor

From Paul Halvorson: I started with Philip Lillestol in fall of 1968 (as a 9th grader). My former teacher was Maria Rantapa.

Philip was very dedicated and would schedule extra lessons, sometime four times a week. Often while I was playing he would exit the room and go into the kitchen to make his "ice tea." I could always tell when I was playing well. He would leave the room for a bit and then return. Phillip Lillestol knew how to extract the best out of me and allowed me to perform at my best.

1970-1974 Philip listed as having students who passed the MMTA Theory Exams

1970 MMTA syllabus published, project spearheaded by Paul Freed

From Bob Laudon: About change in MMTA. There was a great change in 1970 when the publication of a Piano Syllabus came up with Paul Freed leading the charge. There was a change in the honor concerts also.

1970 Ann Carpenter, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Brahms - Rhapsodie 79 #1

1970 Paul Halvorson, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Chopin - c-sharp Scherzo; Schubert Club - Sr. Piano -Bach P & F in d (WTC-I); Chopin - c-sharp Scherzo

From Paul Halvorson: The only time Phillip Lillestol ever attended one of my concerts was at Northup Auditorium when I soloed and played the Chopin Scherzo. After the event, I remember bumping into him and he was very quiet and shy.

1970 Thomas Schultz, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Chopin - f-minor Fantasy

1971 St. Paul Piano Teachers’ Association, Senior Recital, May 17th:
Janis Amatuzio, Handel - Chaconne in G Major
Brad Momsen, Chopin - Nocturne in c minor, Op. 48, #1
Paul Halvorson, Ravel - Jeux d’eau

1971 Janis Amatuzio, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Liszt - D-flat Etude

From Janis Amatuzio: I have loads of memories of him teaching me how to play the piano, as well as him coaching me to a win at the Young Artists Competition where I was scared out of my mind to play at Northrup Auditorium!!

He would sit in his chair drinking a clear liquid with ice in it on those late weekday afternoons. Sometimes he would shake his head in approval, other times he would move to the piano and demonstrate what he would like. While preparing for the Young Artist's Competition, repeatedly I tried, but could not quite produce the intensity he wanted. Near the end of our lesson, his face turned red with frustration, he finally said to me, "Janis!!! You have to play this piece like you were choking a turkey!! You have to grab it and not let go!! Do you understand now how it should sound?" "Oh yes, Mr. Lillestol!!" I said with alarm as I looked at him standing half crouched next to the piano, his face grimacing and red, and his hands clenched tightly around that poor imaginary turkey neck. "I understand completely!" I played that piece with more passion and intensity than I had ever mustered before. That Saturday I played for the Young Artist's Competition and made it to the top 10. I attribute that win to the vision of Mr. Lillestol and the turkey. What a magnificent teacher!! - Janis Amatuzio M.D.

1971 Peggy Hascall, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Chopin - Nocturne in c minor 48 #1

1971 Nancy Haw, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Brahms - Intermezzo 118 #6

From Wayne Peterson: Phil bought a VW bug and sometime in 1971 or shortly thereafter he drove it to CA to visit my wife and I in Mill Valley.

1972-1976: Teaching in Minneapolis

1972 Brad Momsen, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Chopin - b-flat Scherzo

From Brad Momsen: I had studied with Don Betts at Macalester College during my 7th and 8th grade school years, then with a private teacher in St. Paul, the very "German" Minka Bartels for three years. She sent me to Philip for my senior year claiming she brought me as far as she was able. Minka was wonderful and very passionate about music. Most of my lessons ended up being in broken German / Dutch and she stood in the crook of the grand piano singing while I played.

Going to Philip was an amazing change. First, there was that "secret" entrance to 1000 University where one felt you slipped out of the urban cityscape into some strangely fantastical bohemian world - at least for a high school senior from St. Paul (we're talking 1971-72 here). I remember him always dressed in a rumpled white shirt and skinny black tie (or am I dreaming?) I remember the chair he sat in across the room with beverage of choice in hand. Then there was the shock that after the first time I played for Philip, his few words, succinct and precisely chosen, were in English. I'm sure I looked like a deer frozen in headlights.

What he did for me in a year was really amazing in retrospect. Though I attributed much of my advancement in performance to him, I never fully realized at the time how he did it. He knew exactly how to hone into my strengths and address my weaknesses. Lessons were split between technique building and coaching. His passion for music was authentic and always rooted in the music. That spring I won my division in MMTA and had the opportunity to perform in Northrop Auditorium. When I had signed up for a summer music camp at the U of MN, he steered me toward Paul Freed, who became my teacher during my undergraduate and graduate years. I understood perfectly where Paul's philosophy of teaching and the integrity of music was coming from having benefited from a brief, but all too important tenure with Philip.

I kept up with Philip through Paul for a while, but sadly, did not maintain a relationship with him for long. I was extremely fortunate to spend a year with Philip. I knew at the time he was a respected teacher and mentor, but never really understood or appreciated his standing among teachers. As you know, he was a person that never needed to draw attention to his credentials. I don't recall much was revealed about his own career and life other than his travels to France when I studied with him.

1972 MTNA State Winners

1972 Paul Halvorson, MTNA State Audition Winner, High School Division, Jan. 16th. Competed at MTNA Regional Competition in Denver, CO, Feb. 6th. As state winner performed with St. Paul Youth Orchestra on April 26th - Mozart Piano Concerto #23, 1st Movement. Scheduled performance at MMTA Young Artists Concert (June 18th) was scratched from program after printed: Prokofieff - Suggestion Diabolique

1972 Paul Halvorson Concerto Performance

1972 Frank Trnka, MTNA State Audition Winner, College Division, Jan. 16th. Competed at MTNA Regional Competition in Denver, CO, Feb. 6th. As state winner performed with St. Paul Civic Orchestra on Dec. 10th - Mozart Piano Concerto K. 595. Scheduled performance at MMTA Young Artists Concert (June 18th) was scratched from program after printed: Debussy - Isle Joyeuse

1972 Frank Trnka Concerto Performance

1973 April 27: Wendy Williams, Schubert Club - Scholarship Winners Program - Mozart - Sonata, K. 333

1973 June 10: Wendy Williams, Young Artist Soloist, MMTA Honors Concert - Chopin - c-sharp Scherzo;

Wendy Williams, Minnesota Music Teachers' Association Concert, June 10, 1973

1974 Dale Korogi, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Brahms - Rhapsodie 119 #4

Dale Korogi, Minneapolis Music Teachers' Forum Scholarship Winner, 1975

1975 Dale Korogi, MMTA Young Artists Concert - performed, piece not listed; MMTF Honors Concert -Frances Oliver Scholarship

From Dale Korogi: I was delighted to receive your note about Mr. Lillestol. Like you, certainly, I think about him so, so often, very grateful for his influence in my life. I believe I started with Philip in the fall of '71 and stayed with him until the fall of '77 when I went to the College of St. Thomas. I did all the usual MMTA, Forum, Schubert Club, Thursday Musical recitals and competitions. I don't recall what I won or didn't win, but I did play a concerto with the Lake Harriet orchestra one summer which, I think, was for winning or coming in second for the MMTA syllabus exam.

Wendy Williams, Minneapolis Music Teachers' Forum Scholarship Winner, 1975

1975 Wendy Williams, MMTF Honors Concert - Jeanette Casey Scholarship

From Wendy (Williams) Zaske - September 2016: My studies with Mr. Lillestol began in 1964 - at age 6, ponytailed and precocious, I was then his youngest student. With my mom being the quintessential “stage mother” who would sit through every session, I sensed that he wasn’t quite sure what to make of us! To lighten the mood, I began exiting lessons to the left, crawling underneath the piano. This touch of silliness broke the ice - and we soon fell into a workable synergy that would continue for the next twelve years.

I still recall the scent of old wood in the entryway; a courtyard dotted with cats and colorful hippies beckoning through dusty sheers in the bay windows. The studio itself smelled of lavender (and the much-appreciated ham-on-rye sandwiches my mom would bring). I still recall thinking that Mr. Lillestol was quite unusual - humming absentmindedly as he played, or referring to certain pieces as “old war horses.” But he seemed to have an almost mystical passion for music which, he said, began when he first heard the “perfectly logical juxtaposition of notes” in a Mozart Sonata on the farm in North Dakota.

Despite his virtuosity, he was humble and unpretentious; content to live simply. He hesitated to appear on stage or in public, and until I discovered this blog, I had no idea of his background as a world-class performer! I do recall a couple of instances when he’d mysteriously disappear to the West Coast without explanation, adding a new dimension to his eccentricity.

He was dedicated, exacting, and somewhat cantankerous. Instructions scribbled in my lesson books were graphic: “digging out” melodies, “shaping” phrases, or “breathing” between them (peppered with underscored admonitions such as “Cut your nails!” or “E min. scale and arp. - last chance!”). We’d often devote an entire lesson to a single passage, trying to achieve the ideal tone, and I resigned myself to hours of practice at home. Preaching the value of specialization, he warned me against the evils of becoming a “social butterfly” - this when I was only 10 or 11 years old.

“Think of how much you love Poland!” he’d bellow as I practiced Chopin. “Too often,” he’d observe, “it gets so you can’t see the forest for the trees.” He explained that the structure of music is only a vehicle through which a mood is conveyed - and the transmission of this mood by the stroke of the fingers constitutes true mastery of a piece. He defined art as “the distillation of human experience and emotion translated into the medium,” and although these concepts were a bit overwhelming for a teen, I found them intriguing.

Obviously pained when I arrived unprepared, he was delighted when I finally perfected a passage to his satisfaction. Achieving the expression he demanded was a maddeningly abstract endeavor - until I finally managed to merge the feeling in my head with the feeling of the keys, hoping beyond hope that I could replicate it at the upcoming contest or recital.

I was satisfied with my MMTA Young Artist solo at Northrop, and proud to be part of the Schubert Club Awards program that was broadcast on KSJN (both in 1973). But perhaps my most enjoyable performance was for a lone MMTF judge at Gustavus Adolphus in 1975. The serene setting, a picture window overlooking a pond, was perfect for Debussy’s Poissons d’or… and more significant than the scholarship, I think, was finally experiencing the ethereal state of mind that Mr. Lillestol so thoroughly understood.

Since then, I’ve been drawn to other forms of art and entertainment (becoming, I suppose, that dreaded “social butterfly!”). But I have no regrets - those 12 years taught me about patience, perseverence, and the pursuit of excellence. They taught me to compete only against my own best performances, not those of others. And they allowed apprenticeship with a genius who believed in perfection, marched to the beat of his own drummer, and inspired his students to do no less.

Many thanks to Frank Trnka and the others who put together this wonderful blog. Their effort alone speaks volumes about the kind of influence Mr. Lillestol had on so many talented people.

Thomas Valente, Minneapolis Music Teachers' Forum Scholarship Winner, 1976

1976 Thomas Valente, MMTA Young Artists Concert - Liszt - Les jeux d'eau a la Villa d'Este, MMTF Honors Concert - Frances Oliver Scholarship, Liszt - Fountains of Villa D'este

1977-2001: Teaching in Minneapolis and final years

Kathy Reed, Minneapolis Music Teachers' Forum Scholarship Winner, 1977

1977 Kathy Reed, MMTF Honors Concert - Margaret Berg Scholarship, Chopin - Barcarolle

From Kathy Reed: I only studied with Philip Lillestol for my senior year in high school, after I had studied for 11 years with Justine O'Conner. The transition was hard, and memorable. I didn't know any of his other students, but he did in fact leave quite an impression on me.

I am sorry to say that I knew absolutely nothing about his background, and am especially surprised--and delighted now--to know that he studied harpsichord. I loved Baroque music from early on, and did play some Bach that year with Lillestol (WTC I, C-sharp major prelude and fugue, I think), but I mainly remember working with him on the Chopin Barcarolle.

I have to say that my memories are not entirely positive. I'd probably appreciate him much more now. Then, I was just having trouble adjusting from Mrs. O'Conner, who I knew so well, and who by that time, didn't push me very hard.

Mr. Lillestol didn't cut me any slack, starting with my fingernails which he thought (correctly, I'm sure) were too long, causing him at least on one occasion to seize my hands and go after them with his clippers. That left an impression, I'll tell you! I still tell students about it now when I tell them they need to clip theirs.

My general impression of him was that there was something mysterious, murky, and a little scary about him. He looked kind of puffy, had deep circles under his eyes, and spoke in a gruff, low voice. He was in that apartment by highway 35W near Dinkytown, and he sat in a huge black leather armchair by the piano. In my memory it was kind of dark, and there were boxes, and music, and other undifferentiated stuff everywhere. Sometimes during my lesson he would disappear into the kitchen for a while, and come back eating soup or something, and then he would chew on mints the rest of the time.

The specific thing that I remember about studying with him is him recording me on a reel-to-reel tape recorder that he always had set up and ready to go. In the case of the Barcarolle, he also had an LP on his player of Rubenstein playing the piece. He'd take the passage we were working on and record me, then go back and forth, dropping the needle on the Rubenstein rendition and then mine, and ask, "Why would you buy his recording and not yours?" Again, I appreciate now his use of recording to make me listen to myself, but then, it drove me crazy.

All of this notwithstanding, I realized even then that he was making me work hard and causing me to progress much further in that year than I had done before. He clearly knew the music inside out, and had, I remember, specific technical suggestions to help with stuff like the notorious double trill. I didn't look forward to my lessons, but I prepared well for them. I wish now that I had found the maturity to ask him about himself, and get over being creeped out by him and his current surroundings.

We parted on somewhat strained terms, because he was disappointed that I went off to college as a flutist rather than a pianist. I had been playing in the Greater Twin Cities Youth Symphonies and was completely enthralled with orchestral literature, and told him that this excited me more than practicing piano did at the time. He argued that I had more talent as a keyboard player than a flutist (he was right), and that I'd find more satisfaction ultimately in practicing keyboard literature (he was right about that too). I actually didn't study piano at all my first two years at Lawrence, but then missed it a lot and studied my junior and senior years alongside my flute major. I went to graduate school at Michigan in musicology, and it was there that I discovered harpsichord and got so sidetracked by this that I never finished my Ph.D. dissertation, and now here I am teaching harpsichord, piano, music history, music theory, and directing a Collegium. No flute, except that I accompany flutists a lot.

So I wish he were still around so that I could redeem myself to him for some of my high school immaturity, and have some of the fascinating conversations that I never had with him.

1978 Last evidence of a winning student, Elsie Wang, Schubert Club - 2nd. Place, Jr. HS Piano

1979 Last evidence of a performing student, Elsie Wang, St. Paul Music Teachers’ Recital, Brahms Rhapsodie, Op. 119, #4

From Elsie (Wang) Weiler: I think Mr. Lillestol was a brilliant teacher. As I recall, I studied with him from about 1975 to summer 1979. He was not too happy when I left for another teacher (just before 10th grade), but he had become quite obsessive about teaching me and I had felt increasingly smothered and unhappy about having anything to do with piano. I did not speak with him until 1982, when I called him after winning the Young People's Symphony Concert Association (YPSCA) competition, to thank him for his great teaching. That was the last time I spoke with him.

From Lois Price: Philip started reducing his teaching load in 1980 and by 1985 had stopped teaching all together and rarely touched the piano after that. He spent 1990-1991 back on the farm living with our mother. After our mother became too ill to remain on the farm in April, 1991, Philip returned to Minneapolis to his apartment that he loved. He was in ill health those last years, but still enjoyed listening to his records, reading, and television. I visited him frequently and his nephews visited when they could. He was able to come to Tucson to spend time with us several times.

Bob Laudon was truly a “friend in deed” and did many things for him. Philip always told me about the good dinners he had with him, the rides to see the fall leaves, the special movies they went to, etc. We truly appreciate everything he did.

Philip’s 1913 Steinway is at my son Tim’s home here in Arizona. It is being well taken care of and enjoyed by the family.

1992 Paul Freed retires from U of MN

1993 Philip and Paul Freed became Life Members of MMTA and Bob Laudon an Emeritus Member.

2001 December 20 Philip died.

Minneapolis visitation at Washburn McReavy on 3rd down by the river.

Memorial Service Program, Wahpeton, North Dakota, December 27, 2001. Duane, Jake and Jerome Lillestol are the cousins from 1st photo of this album. Arlene Lillestol (organist) is Duane's wife.

2001 December 27 Memorial Service, Wahpeton, ND

Philip's Gravestone, Homestead Lutheran Church, near Barney, North Dakota

Homestead Lutheran Church, built 1908, near Barney, North Dakota

History of the Lillestol Clan

by Oline Lillestol (Philip’s aunt,
his one-room school teacher until 5th grade, and
his piano teacher until high school)
(with a bit of editing by Frank Trnka)

Ole Peterson Lillestol (Philip and Lois’ grandfather), son of Ole and Oline Lillestol, was born in Hornindal, Nordfjord, Norway, March 21, 1864. He immigrated to the United States in 1888 and came to Dwight, North Dakota where some cousins lived. He was a carpenter by trade and worked at that in this area.

At this time, the government was offering a quarter section of land for the cost of $5.00 to encourage people to start farming. It was called “The Homestead Act.” In order to be eligible for this land, suitable buildings had to be erected for habitation. Ole selected a piece of land and built a two room house with a loft and other buildings. He had also done some farming. When this was done and the inspectors were satisfied, he was given a deed to the land. This was known as “Proving Up.”

Laura Elise Lindh, daughter of Jacob and Bergitta Lindh, was born August 22, 1870 in Laukvik, Lofoten, Norway. Laura’s home in Norway was in “The Land of the Midnight Sun.” Lofoten is 100 miles north of the Arctic Circle. The summers are short and the winters long. In summer, the sun shines constantly for about two months and in winter it doesn’t shine at all for about two months, there is only daylight. Laura was born into a family of 15 children. Four girls and one boy died in a plague, four girls and one boy came to America and four girls and one boy stayed in Norway. The ones who came to America were Laura, Maja, Jacobina, Hansina and Hans. Some of the others were -Karen, Petra, Christine, Richard, Fernanda, Gina and Marianne. Hansina, Jacobina and Hans came a few years after Laura and Maja.

During the short summer, Laura and her sisters spent the time on a “seater.” This was a place up in the mountains where they would take the cattle and sheep to graze to save the grass on the lowland for hay in the winter. Because only three percent of Norway is cultivated, the rest is mountains and water. It is necessary to guard the hay sparingly for winter. The seater had a house and outbuildings and it was the responsibility of the girls to take care of the milk and make cheese and butter. Laura said it was a very lonely place. Only occasionally someone would come up with more food, but they couldn’t leave because of the animals.

Laura had worked as a maid in the home of a business man in the large city of Tromso. Each maid had special jobs; Laura’s was clothing and shoes. They were a large family and put their shoes out by their bedroom doors at night. Early in the morning the maids would polish the shoes and put them back by the doors. She said they were kind folks except for Petter, a son, who was a rascal. One day he was mad at his father, went in his closet and spit all over his best suit. She never knew how that turned out.

Occasionally the maids would have an afternoon vacation. This amounted to a long walk around the city. They carried a large key to the house, and for sport, if they saw an officious looking person coming by they would very innocently jab him with the key.

She immigrated to the United States in 1893 and also came to Dwight, North Dakota. She and Ole were engaged before he left Norway, but it was five years before she came over. She and a sister Maja, pronounced Miya, came to Dwight in October when the rain had started.

When the train stopped at the little station in deep slush, they refused to leave saying they were to go to a “city.” After some conversation, they had to leave and in their finery and carrying fancy umbrellas, they stepped onto the board platform into slush up to their ankles. Ole was a little late getting to the station and they wanted desperately to turn around and go back to Norway, but, of course, they didn’t have money for the long trip back. Ole came soon and brought them to the home of a friend where they were welcomed.

Ole and Laura were married in the Dwight Lutheran Church and then went out to the Homestead he had obtained. Maja soon found work in the home of a young bachelor that was furnished with everything necessary for a comfortable home. She was an expert cook and housekeeper.

Laura was very eager to learn the English language. She often kept the teacher to learn the language and to earn a !little money. One winter she allowed school to be held in the upstairs room for a period of three months. But, “just once,” she said. “Never again.”

Money was always a problem. Ole was a fairly good fiddler and would play his fiddle for a dance all evening for the sum of $2.00. One summer there was an abundance of hay on government land that the Homesteaders were allowed to cut. Ole cut, bunched, and sold it for $1.00 a load - as much as could be loaded on a hayrack and those loads were HUGE!

Since there were no trees in the area and wood was the fuel for cooking and heating, it had to be gotten from the Sheyenne River, many miles from there. Jacob was soon to be born and Ole decided he had to have more wood. He left at daybreak and Laura knew he would do well to get home that night. In mid-afternoon Laura began feeling ill and had only 15-month Peter (Philip and Lois’ father, born 1896) for a companion. She stoked the fire as long as she was able and then took Peter into bed with her and prayed a lot. Ole did get home that night and found Laura very ill and both she and Peter very cold. After comforting them but with no telephone, he had to take off again to get a midwife. Jacob arrived hale and hearty and what might have been a triple tragedy turned out fine.

When Jacob was one month old, and even in the dead of winter, it was necessary that he be baptized. The family in a lumber wagon and with horses went to Dwight, 15 miles away, where the nearest clergyman lived. Jacob was baptized with sponsors, Eskild Farup, a family friend, and Laura’s sister Jacobina Lindh. These two had not met until that day but Dan Cupid must have been around since they were married some months later. They settled on Eskild’s farm about six miles from Laura and Ole.

Hansina married Hans Rhode and settled on a farm close to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Maja married a young Englishman, Arthur Bayes. They lived in the Wahpeton area some years and then moved to Petoskey, Michigan. Hans tried farming but didn’t do well at that and wound up in Seattle working in the Ship Yard.

As the family grew, the little house became crowded. Ole added a good sized dining room and a kitchen. Laura’s neighbors envied her frame house but with no trees for protection from the blazing sun of summer and fierce winds of winter and no insulation, the house was uncomfortable much of the time. Young Laura envied a neighbor who had a sod house that was cool in summer and warm and cozy in winter.

In Ole’s family there were only three children: Andreas, Olina and Ole. Olina went to Canada, settled there and raised a family near Regina - her name was Olina Roset. There are now many Rosets in that area.

Andreas came to the United States and here’s the story. When Ole and Laura had their first five children Ole got a letter from Andreas in Norway saying that they were starving and could he send them money to come to America -the place with “Golden Streets.” Fortunately the house was enlarged by that time and Ole sold one of his animals and sent the money. They also had five children, four boys and one girl, which made seven more people. Can you imagine cooking and baking for 14 people day after day in the summer without electricity? Andreas did find work before too long and later a set of buildings became vacant and the family moved in. Their boys were a little older than Ole’s and also found some jobs here and there. In time they had a farm of their own in West End Township, west of Wyndmere. When they were much older and all of their children gone, they went to live in Minneapolis, where a son Leif and his wife, Doris, lived.

Ole and Laura with strong Lutheran backgrounds from Norway, felt the need of a church in this community. Ole headed the list and went from place to place for contributions. Before long, enough money was collected and the Homestead Church was built in 1908.

Ole and Laura became the parents of eight children: Peter Olaf, Jacob Bergeton, Iver Gren, Lilly Ovedia, Anna Marie, Myrtle Odina, Oline Fernanda and Harvey Selnor.

And how did Laura discipline all these children? She was not a large person, average height and slim, but when she said “NO!” that meant “NO!” Some didn’t need much correction, Peter, Jacob and Anna especially. I never heard of a “switch” being used, but I do remember a rap on the head if Laura was disturbed during a phone call, and also being sent upstairs to cool off. There was never any arguing at the table.

Ole was a very ambitious man and active in all community meetings. At one point, he was awarded the job of hauling lumber for a pound-yard at his place. He would have the job of building it if he would do it for $5.00. This was a place for straying cattle.

Early in February, Ole became ill with a very bad cold. The doctor from Wyndmere came out and said it was pneumonia. What medicine he had didn’t seem to help and Ole decided he wanted to go to Wahpeton. Peter brought him to Barney, where the train stopped for passengers, only to learn that the train was stranded in snow and wouldn’t be coming. There was nothing to do but go back home. A few days later, Ole died at the young age of 46 on February 18, 1910. He was the first to be buried in the Homestead Cemetery.

Now Laura was left alone to raise the eight children ages 14 to 1-1/2. The thought was overwhelming and she could hardly contain herself. She even thought of moving to Wyndmere in hopes of finding work. But kind and caring friends and neighbors convinced her she would be better off on the farm. Of all the wonderful friends that rallied around Laura and her family, one stands out as being special. He also had immigrated from Norway and homesteaded near them. His name was Arnie Hjelseth and he was well acquainted with Ole and Laura and also the children. When Peter became the father figure of this family, Arnie was there to help. He was a bachelor and didn’t like to cook, so he had eaten many meals at Laura’s table. Eventually he became a permanent member of the family. There are no words to describe what he did for them. He was very capable in every respect, thoughtful, kind, and pleasant. How could they have been so blessed.

The fall before Ole died, he had purchased a large number and many kinds of trees to be planted in the spring for a grove. Now Peter and Laura planted all those trees. They grew and flourished into a large, valuable grove that can still be seen around the buildings at the old Homestead.

The children were doing well. All seemed to be in good health and growing up as children do. Crops were adequate and little by little more equipment and animals were purchased. In a few years, a large barn was built.

Jacob, now 20, went to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where a sister of Laura’s lived, to do carpenter work. He was there when the first world war broke out. He registered for the draft there and soon was called to serve in the army. When the day came for him to leave, Laura and others were at the train station to see him off. Laura remarked later that the hardest thing she had ever experienced in her life was to watch the train leave with Jacob on it - going to war. She felt she had to run after the train and get him off. Jacob served eleven months in France and Belgium. In spite of many hardships, he fortunately came home in good health.

Laura raised sheep on the farm. In spring they were sheared and she would wash the wool and spin it into yarn. From this she knit socks and mittens and other things. She would also card it and make it into pads to put in quilts for warmth. She knitted dozens and dozens of pairs of socks and mittens for the World War effort.

Laura taught her daughters to knit, crochet and other fancy work, and also to make quilts. Most of the quilts were tied, but some were stitched by hand, these were the more fancy ones. Nothing was wasted. Flour came in 100 or 50 pound cloth bags. The 50 pound bags became dish towels and the 100 pound became slips, bloomers, night gowns and even dresses. Sugar came in 25 pound cloth bags but most often in 10 pound cloth bags. These were sewn together with strips of colored cloth and became tops for quilts. For winter quilts, she would also cut up old suits, coats and jackets and sew the pieces together. Then she would often use colored thread to make fancy stitches over the seams.

Because there was no electricity to freeze food, it had to be preserved in other ways. Hams and bacon were soaked in brine and then smoked thoroughly in a smoke house. Beef and pork was cut up in chunks, put into a quart size glass jar with some broth and baked in the oven for several hours. The lids were then tightened firmly and the meat kept very well for a long time. Much fruit was canned, jams and jellies made.

For entertainment there were church programs and school programs and always a last day of school picnic. The parents came with lots of delicious food followed by a rousing game of softball. In summer there was an occasional barn dance when there was no hay in the loft. (The barn dance was for neighbors and friends - ONLY). During winter there was much visiting between neighbors and many Sunday dinners. And then there were Basket Socials, usually held in a school house and always well attended. The ladies would bring a decorated box or small basket filled with delicious food. The men who came were prepared to buy one of these and have the privilege of eating lunch with the owner of the basket. One of the men was elected to be auctioneer and the sale was on. If one of the men -or boys- had a special girlfriend he would try to spy her basket. At one of those socials, an especially beautiful basket came up and the bidding was spirited -until- up from the crowd came a voice- “Don’t tip the basket, there is sauce in there.” Silence. The bidding stopped. She was not one of the favorites. But the social went on. Proceeds from these events went to the school for library books.

Myrtle liked to be on the go. A very favorite place was “Saturday Night in Wyndmere.” People came from miles and miles and crowded the little town. The Main Street was about two blocks long. There were two grocery stores where one could buy anything from a stick of candy to a suit of underwear. The Bar was busy taking care of thirsty men, rarely a woman. There was a creamery, a drug store where ice cream was served and a Cafe for coffee and whatever. Sometimes the theater had a film and that was special. But unless Peter got the chores done he couldn’t take her. So - she learned to milk cows. Talk about determination. Of course others also went.