Story: Phillip Tutor | Photo: Betsy Compton
Strickland wants to double the size of UWA’s band by next year
Dr. Tyler Strickland is a piano-playing, would-be percussionist from Birmingham who longed to bang drums in his school band, learned instead to play saxophone, married Auburn University鈥檚 first female drum major, directed high school bands in two states and spent the last three years as a聽graduate assistant with the University of Iowa bands.聽
Now he鈥檚 in Livingston — 750 miles south of Iowa City — after being named this summer as director of bands at the baby直播. His excitement couldn鈥檛 be more palpable.
鈥淭here’s a tremendous potential for growth,鈥� he said.
While potential may be abundant, time is not. Strickland鈥檚 first day at UWA was June 24; the fall semester began Aug. 15; . And besides the unavoidable hassles of relocation — finding a place to live, especially — Strickland has been tasked with preparing the Marching Tigers for their official 2022 debut while also learning his students鈥� names and what instruments they play.
Roughly half of the band鈥檚 56 members are first-time performers at UWA, either freshmen or transfer students. Strickland didn鈥檛 hear them play until they warmed up on an early morning at the beginning of band camp in August. All he knew came from the band鈥檚 student leaders, which was comforting but not necessarily authoritative.
Other band directors might have blanched.
Instead, the 36-year-old Strickland smiled.
鈥淚t didn’t matter, because I know that whatever they’ve got, we can work with it and make it better,鈥� he said. 鈥淭hat’s kind of the job. I’ve never been the person that thought they were supposed to be handed a turn-key band. Part of the job is being able to make people better musicians.鈥�
From baby直播 to Iowa, and back
Given that his father, , Strickland鈥檚 story would be more linear had he become an athlete or a coach, a son following his father鈥檚 path.
But blame his mom, who had the parental temerity to take piano lessons.
She didn鈥檛 play another instrument, Strickland said, and wasn鈥檛 musical. But when he was 4, she 鈥渏ust decided that she wanted to play piano,鈥� which almost instantly pit son against mother.
He, too, wanted to take piano lessons.
She said no.
He kept asking.
She said no.
A year later, when he was 5, she relented. For the next seven years, Strickland immersed himself in music, fertilizing his interest by learning to read notes and play the piano like his mother. The seed was firmly planted when he joined his school band, whose director convinced the aspiring drummer to learn the saxophone. Musically, at least, those piano lessons eased his transition to a woodwind.
鈥淚 think there was a certain part of me that was musical, that wanted to be musical,鈥� he said, 鈥渂ut I think a lot of it was the band at my school. We started in fifth grade, and that was kind of what everybody did. You joined the band.鈥�
That adoration of bands and their music fed an addiction that hasn鈥檛 waned. At Auburn — the only school to which he applied — Strickland joined the university鈥檚 marching band. (That鈥檚 where he met his wife, Ashley Norwood-Strickland, a former AU drum major.) His father didn鈥檛 want him to major in music education 鈥渂ecause band directors don鈥檛 make any money,鈥� so he enrolled as a business administration major, an experiment that fizzled after two years. Strickland鈥檚 interest couldn鈥檛 have been more tepid. 鈥淭here was just one day where I called him and said, 鈥楲ook, I can’t do this business thing anymore. I’m switching to music,鈥欌�� Strickland said. His dad didn鈥檛 put up a fuss.
While his wife was finishing her education, Strickland taught band at a Mississippi high school and then at Reeltown High School not far from Auburn. When deciding on a doctoral program, he selected Iowa in part because of the quality of marching bands in the Midwest and the opportunity to learn in an environment foreign from his Southern background. 鈥淚 wanted to get out of the (Southeastern Conference) and have some outside experience because the Big Ten traditions are different from those in the SEC,鈥� he said. Though he was a teaching assistant, the leadership structure of Iowa鈥檚 band program allowed him to write and lead performances normally reserved for full-time directors.
鈥淚 think there was a certain part of me that was musical, that wanted to be musical, but I think a lot of it was the band at my school. We started in fifth grade, and that was kind of what everybody did. You joined the band.鈥�
–Tyler Strickland
Last football season, Strickland wrote four of Iowa鈥檚 six halftime shows and helped direct its concert band, university band and symphony band, in which he also played the bass clarinet. 鈥淚 didn’t have wrinkles before I went to Iowa,鈥� he said. After he graduated in May with a doctor in musical arts degree, the Stricklands began plotting their next steps, choices the pandemic鈥檚 isolation helped make.
鈥淭hat changed with our feelings about moving because we weren’t as able to see family during that time,鈥� he said. 鈥淲e had to stay in Iowa a lot, we didn’t get to come home for holidays. So decided that we wanted to get back down close to home, and we feel very fortunate (to be at UWA).鈥�
Molding The Marching Tigers鈥� future
Two months into his Livingston tenure, Strickland has ideas. Most sound imminently doable rather than aspirational. He wants to double the size of the Marching Tigers鈥� roster by next year. Recruiting for UWA鈥檚 band is strengthened, he believes, because of the university鈥檚 commitment to offer scholarship opportunities to band members. Plans for the university鈥檚 pep and concert bands aren鈥檛 far away. He鈥檚 never seen a football game at UWA and is oblivious to the campus鈥� fall Saturday vibes, but he鈥檚 determined to create a game-day atmosphere that belies the band鈥檚 diminutive size. It鈥檚 as if Strickland and his dad, the former Auburn linebacker, are game-planning their next opponent.
鈥淵ou have to be prepared to play very short snippets of music, impactful snippets between downs,鈥� Strickland said. 鈥淵ou can’t just play long tunes during the time out. You have to be engaged and active. That’s how I built an appreciation for the band at Reeltown, through that same type of thing, understanding how football works and being ready to play — between first down and second down, between second down and third down. When you’re on defense, let’s play something really impactful before fourth down. When they’re going for it on fourth down, we鈥檝e got to play something really loud and be super impactful so that you help create a crowd environment, a crowd atmosphere, a home-field advantage.鈥�
As he sits in his Foust Hall office, Strickland can see the Marching Tigers鈥� band room through the door. He can hear students when they arrive. His years playing in and directing bands tell him to pay attention to more than foul notes and marching missteps.
鈥淚f you don’t feel like the band and the environment are positive, then that’s not going to be somewhere that you want to stay,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t’s important that they feel safe, that they feel like it’s somewhere where they can have fun, but then also somewhere where they experience success.鈥�