Alumni In The News

2011 Alumnus Larry Nance Jr dunks it like Michael Jordan vs SDSU

 

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Revere Alumnus Aaron Hale ('96)—Recovering From a Bomb Blast

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One can't help but smile as the notes to Irving Berlin's "Let's Face the Music and Dance" leap brightly from Mike Kukral's living room and through the screen door, before spilling from the porch to the street. The veteran Rose-Hulman faculty member grins as his 1934 Marshall & Wendell Ampico reproducing grand piano plays the beautiful sounds for others to enjoy. "That's the newest one I own," he chuckles. "It's a 1934, so that was near the end of production."

As a kid, Kukral was intrigued by his father's childhood memories of the family's player piano and its mechanical movements.

"My dad always talked about when he was a kid they had a piano that played by itself," he says.

Fascinated, Kukral asked if he could get a player piano. His father advised him to save his money. It was soon thereafter that he bought his first player piano, an old broken down model, at age 12 for $75.

Now, five pianos fill Kukral's home, including his most cherished piece: a cabinet style 1907 Welte Vorstezer T-100 red roll reproducing push-up player, made in Germany. Three other pianos are in storage in Ohio.

"Out of all my instruments, the Welte Vorsetzer is the only one that's a museum piece," he says. "It took me forever to find one of these."

Interestingly, the Welte Vorsetzer isn't a traditional player piano, but rather a mechanism housed in a rosewood cabinet which physically plays a piano's keys and pedals using a series of fingerlike pneumatics. In Kukral's home the piano player tickles the ivories on a 1927 Steinway Duo-Art reproducing grand piano.

Cabinet players like this are rare because unlike player pianos, the players are not actually instruments. "When the mechanics in a player piano stopped working, you still had a piano. When this stopped working all you had was a cabinet," Kukral explains.

Another rarity in Kukral's collection is an unrestored coin-operated automatic 1922 Coinola Model X nickelodeon piano, which features percussion instruments conveniently tucked away in a compartment in the bottom of the piano, near where the foot pedals would be in a conventional piano. Common in speakeasies, this roll-operated orchestrion has a snare drum, bass drum, cymbal, woodblock, and xylophone that enable the instrument to virtually mimic a small dance band with the piano in the lead. "This is really early robotics," says Kukral, who has served as editor and publisher of The Amica Bulletin of the Automatic Musical Instruments Collectors' Association.

Player pianos operate on a pneumatic or reduced air principle through a system of tubes, pouches, valves, bellows, and pneumatics whose piano keys, and in some cases musical dynamics, are directed to actuate both on and off via the perforations in the paper music rolls.

The reproducing player pianos that Kukral collects use live performancegenerated rolls to reproduce the sound, including dynamics, of the songs as they were played by well-known pianists of the time. A standard player piano simply plays the notes, with no variation in expression. Kukral estimates that only 10 percent of the player pianos built were the high-end reproducing pianos.

"You really have to understand physics and mechanical engineering to restore them, and if you don't understand music, you won't get very good results either," Kukral says.

It's the intricate mechanisms which operate player pianos that fascinate the engineering students, faculty colleagues, and other guests that Kukral regularly welcomes to witness his collection.

Guests marvel at the pianos, as well as the massive collection of piano rolls that fills a back room of his home. The shelves of alphabetically arranged rolls routinely impress student visitors, until Kukral reminds them that he really has no bigger a musical collection than they do.

"I ask students, 'How many songs do you have on your iPod?'" he says. "Each one of these boxes is one selection, so it's not so many. I might have 5,000 or 6,000."

As a geography professor and former Fulbright Scholar, Kukral not only appreciates the musical facet of his collection, but the cultural component as well. "These are fine musical instruments and it's an aspect of American culture," says the Lambda Chi Alpha fraternity faculty advisor. "The best part of my hobby is to share it with other people. I like to share the history, the technology, but the bottom line is the music."

Revere grads wrangle reality show

'Swamp Brothers' tackles running an animal farm, often comical partnership

By Rich Heldenfels
Beacon Journal popular culture writer

POSTED: 02:30 a.m. EDT, May 10, 2011

Former Bath residents Robbie and Stephen Keszey did not take long to show how they became TV stars.

In fact, all it took was a question about their age in an interview.

''We'll leave it at 40-something,'' Robbie said.

''Really?'' Stephen sniped. ''What are you, a woman?''

For the record, Robbie graduated from Revere High School in 1984 and Stephen in 1987.

But that sort of banter is part of the reason they're co-starring in Swamp Brothers, a new series that gets a sneak preview at 10 tonight on Discovery Channel before its official premiere at 10 p.m. Friday.

Asked if they needle each other much, Robbie said, ''Always. Always.''

They have lived contrasting lives. Robbie is married with three children, Stephen a bachelor; Robbie a longtime lover of animals and the outdoors, Stephen an urban guy who spent
more than a decade in New York City.

''But the great thing about us is we're very close,'' Robbie added. ''We come from a very tight-knit family. We're Hungarian and we were raised in the Hungarian way.'' Even in his 30s, Robbie would talk to their parents — Zoltan and Julianna — just about every night.

''It was always that family was the most important thing,'' Stephen added. ''My grandmother, my grandfather, were very close to us. It was a great way to grow up.''

Another reason for the show is the setting, the Glades Herp Farm, a Florida operation claiming to provide ''America's largest and best selection of fine reptiles, amphibians and invertebrates to the collectors, breeders, zoos and educators of the world.''

Robbie has long been one of the owners of the farm, while Stephen came on board about a year ago. It's a logical place for Robbie to be, a bit of a surprise for Stephen.

''I got into animals when I was, like, 8 years old,'' Robbie said. ''My first venomous snake I caught . . . when I was 13. When I was 16, I started getting into cobras.'' He also worked part time for a local veterinarian. Stephen, meanwhile, said he steered away from animals after an early encounter with one of Robbie's.

''I think I was around 7 years old, and I unlocked his cage where he had a python,'' Stephen said. ''I wanted to hold [the python], I wanted to be cool, and I poked my head in there first to see him, and he bit me right on the nose. And that is imprinted in my head. That [caused] my fear of animals, and I went the other direction in my life.''

Stephen's nervousness on the show — where the brothers deal with gators, snakes and even a lion — is accordingly genuine. ''My macho, Indiana Jones kind of feeling crumbles when [an animal] does something I don't expect it to do,'' he said. ''I crumble into an Ed Grimley or a Jerry Lewis.''

''There's been several times when he's left me in sticky situations,'' added Robbie.

''I call it common sense coming back in my head,'' Stephen replied.

Saving for zoo

Besides animals, Robbie loved football and rock music and dreamed of a football career. But a serious knee injury curtailed his sports ambitions, so he went to California to try a music career.

''I thought, if I can become big, then I can afford to buy my own zoo,'' he said. He was a bass player for a time and the personal assistant to C.C. DeVille of the band Poison. But he wasn't entirely happy.

He returned to Bath, and the following spring, with a job offer from a Florida reptile dealer, he went south on a visit and ''I fell in love.

''The heat. The humidity. The alligators everywhere. [A friend] took me out snake hunting a couple of nights, and I was catching so many snakes, I was, like, I've gotta move here.''

In 1997, a crocodile farm came up for sale. Robbie talked it over with his father, who planned to come to Florida to take a look at the property before Robbie made a decision. But Zoltan developed congestive heart failure and died before he could make the trip.

''I lost it,'' Robbie said. ''I lost touch with reality, everything. My whole world was gone. I'm crying now. . . . I didn't want to do anything in life anymore.''

He credited his wife, Michelle, with finally talking him into buying the farm a year later. ''It was the best thing I ever did,'' he said.

Coming together

Julianna eventually moved down to Florida as well; Robbie built a house on his property for her so she could maintain some independence. But she began to develop Alzheimer's, and Stephen moved to Florida to help take care of her. ''My mother was so good to us,'' Stephen said, ''it was the least I could do for her.''

''Stephen just gave up everything,'' Robbie said. ''If it weren't for my mom, I never could have talked him into moving here.''

''Sure you could've,'' Stephen interjected. ''The ticks are plentiful, and there's a thing called a fire ant down here that could just kill the hell out of your leg. Yeah, it's great.'' But family was more important.

Their mother's health continued to decline; other illnesses arose, too. She died in 2010. Stephen stayed in Florida — in part because Julianna wanted the boys to be close, in part because he began to like working on the herp farm.

''I started to work with my brother and do small things, which I kind of liked,'' he said. ''I was starting to get into it. . . . I thought, if I could learn how to do [what Robbie does] I would be kind of a badass. . . . And I trust my brother. . . . I know if something goes wrong, Robbie would sacrifice an arm or a leg to make sure I'm OK.''

Swamp Brothers came about because Robbie had done some animal wrangling for TV shows and Stephen began helping out. ''Everybody we shot with would be, like, 'You should have your own show. You two are hilarious.' ''

''This is how we are, every day of our lives,'' Robbie said. ''We argue, we fight, and two minutes later, we love each other.''

MEET THE SWAMP BROTHERS

ROBBIE KESZEY - The Herp Expert

Partner at Glades Herp Farm, former bass player & rock 'n' roll band assistant

Robbie Keszey has been interested in reptiles and wildlife since he was a kid. Robbie's #1 goal is to teach people to respect and conserve animals through captive breeding. He is a professional skilled expert in all herps, especially crocodilians and venomous snakes. But it was music, Robbie's other passion, that drove him to move to Los Angeles after high school to play bass in a rock band. While in L.A., Robbie served as personal assistant to C.C. Deville, of the glam rock band Poison. After traveling the world, Robbie found his way back to his first real love - wildlife and reptiles. He moved to Florida to work at Glades Herp Farm, bringing with him his rock 'n' roll attitude and a penchant for living on the edge. A Florida Gators fan, Robbie lives in Bushnell, Florida with his wife, Michelle and their kids.

STEPHEN KESZEY - The City Slicker

Assistant at Glades Herp Farm, former New York City bartender

Stephen Keszey is a pure city boy at heart who prefers the chirping of urban crickets (car alarms) to actual crickets. After graduating from The Ohio State University, Stephen moved to New York City, where he lived for more than 14 years. During his time in the Big Apple, he had a variety of jobs, including a stint working in music publicity — but Stephen's love was bartending. When their mother became ill, Stephen left New York City for Florida to help out, and found himself also helping his older brother, Robbie, at Glades Herp Farm. Although Stephen is overly cautious and extremely fearful of getting hurt, he has gained some knowledge, and concedes that there is only one aspect in his life where he bows to the expertise of his brother without question, and that is where reptiles are concerned.

The Swan-Prickett Family is a Richfield Institution

By  Lynda Durrant

by Nancy Hudec
A good man is hard to find – so, too, is an elementary school principal like Bath's
Fred Tomei. Tomei, who accentuated the positive and always believed "you've got to be able to laugh," has retired. With him go 12 years of doing everything from day-to-day administration to rollerblading and getting duct-taped to the wall for charity. He believed students were No. 1 and that his accomplishments were easy thanks to a great staff of team players. "Bath Elementary is a great school
because of the people in it," said Tomei. "I was fortunate to have a great group of teachers and assistants that all wanted to be there. They like what they are doing and always have a welcoming attitude to each and every student."
He added, "Our students also want to be there, want to learn and have the support of their families and the community. I had great students who did terrific things for others, like Kick It. Kick It is like Relay For Life, only kids raise money for children's oncology through kickball games. We raised over $3,300 and beat Tallmadge in the championship. It was a great event and reflected the type of students and families that are part of Bath Elementary."

1996 Alumni Amy Krusinski Sinbondit’s ceramics won the 2009 Ohio Arts Award for Individual Excellence.

 

by Nancy Hudec

 

“Art is not a thing, it is a way,” said American author Elbert Hubbard. For local artist Amy Krusinski Sinbondit, her way is three-dimensional ceramic art. Based on calligraphic letters, the Bath native’s work loosely interprets character letters of language in a three-dimensional work of art. Sinbondit’s ceramics won the 2009 Ohio Arts Award for Individual Excellence, which led to a 27-piece art show at the Zanesville Museum of Art. Her ceramic interpretations were on display at the museum Oct. 10 through Dec. 26. From as small as a hand, to 38 inches long, Sinbondit’s art reflects alphabets of ancient language.