Issue link: https://trevordayschool.uberflip.com/i/1529130
A Tribute to Danai Gagne (1943–2023) by Chris Landriau, Former Faculty (1993–2012) When Danai Gagne died in February, I felt a huge loss. She'd been a mentor, colleague, and friend for decades. But when I considered her 18 years at Trevor, I had an unexpected thought: Did her students really know her? Danai taught thousands of young students at Trevor and elsewhere for over 60 years. But who was she? When I first met Danai in 1990, we were already dancing. I'd been working as a pianist and searching for ways to be a more creative piano teacher. A friend told me about a philosophy of music education promoting movement, storytelling, and improvisation; he suggested I contact Danai. We chatted by phone and Danai explained that this innovative philosophy was pioneered by German composer Carl Orff in the early 20th century and was called the "Orff approach." As I immersed myself in the NYC music teachers' community through Saturday Orff teacher trainings, I kept hearing Danai's name and soon realized she was the Godmother of Orff-based education in New York. As a teenager, Danai had worked with Carl Orff as his personal assistant. When she came to NY in her early 20s from her native Greece, Danai quickly became a nation-wide advocate for Orff 's approach. Danai and I first met in person at a music teachers' workshop; our large group was learning a folk dance. Everyone was constantly changing partners as we tried to remember the steps. I was promenading and looked at my partner's name tag—Danai Gagne. Wow! Here's this larger-than- life figure, completely accessible, joyful, and in the moment. And there I was, dancing with Danai. That was the beginning of our long friendship. For the next few years, I continued to work as a pianist but began taking Orff training directly with Danai. Through several quirks of fate, she and I then became team teachers at Trevor and shared the classroom for six years. I'll always remember planning the new Elementary School assembly program together. We were charged with shaping the events, and we were a good team. We wanted music making without performance pressure, to share students' growth and celebrate community. But we also wanted students to take music making seriously. We'd meet each spring at the Nicholas Roerich Museum on 107th Street. Surrounded by Roerich's mystical paintings, we'd retreat to the top floor where there was a wooden table and chairs. There, we'd plan the series of spring assemblies. This physical space was emblematic to me of Danai's essence: invoking inspiration and manifesting it creatively. We held these lofty goals for our students and ourselves. Danai showed me it was possible to bring spiritual purpose to teaching, and to succeed. But it would be insufficient to describe Danai as merely a deeply spiritual person, even though that's true. Danai was many things; She could be playfully irreverent, and very, very funny. Danai held multitudes. She was simultaneously larger than life and down to earth. Inspirational and practical. Serious and lighthearted. Her complexity allowed so many of us to see ourselves reflected in and nurtured by her. We've all had our moments of dancing with Danai. Which is why she'll be so deeply missed. n Chris and Danai in 1994. Chris and Danai with the Recorder Consort in the spring of 1999. En route to perform at another independent school, these 4th- and 5th-grade students couldn't resist playing in the street. 76 / TREVOR MAGAZINE FALL 2024–25