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In the hushed stillness of the U.S. Capitol on January 20, 2009, as the world held its breath for the inauguration of President Barack Obama, Anthony McGill lifted his clarinet and played the first notes of Air and Simple Gifts. His sound—a tone so rich and resonant it seemed to transcend time—echoed across the National Mall, carrying with it the weight of history. He was not only performing alongside legends like Yo-Yo Ma, Itzhak Perlman, and Gabriela Montero, but he was also making history himself: a Black classical musician from the South Side of Chicago, taking center stage at one of the most significant moments in American history.
But for McGill, that moment was only a chapter in a career defined not just by technical brilliance but by a deep and abiding belief in the power of music to enact change. As principal clarinetist of the New York Philharmonic—the first African American musician to hold a principal chair in the orchestra’s 180-year history—McGill has built a legacy that extends far beyond the concert hall. He is an artist, an advocate, and a symbol of what is possible when talent meets unshakable purpose.
The Sound of Persistence
Anthony McGill’s journey to the pinnacle of classical music was anything but inevitable. Born in 1979 on Chicago’s South Side, he grew up in a neighborhood where classical music was rarely a fixture. But when his older brother, Demarre, took up the flute, a young Anthony followed suit—first with the recorder, then with the clarinet. The brothers’ prodigious talent caught the attention of teachers who saw something extraordinary in them.
McGill’s ascent was swift. As a student at the Merit School of Music, a program dedicated to providing high-quality music education to students regardless of financial background, he quickly established himself as a standout musician. From there, he attended the Curtis Institute of Music, where he studied under Donald Montanaro, refining the technique and interpretative depth that would become his hallmark.
His early career saw him performing with some of the nation’s top orchestras, but it was his appointment as principal clarinetist of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra in 2004 that solidified his status as one of the finest clarinetists of his generation. The Met’s repertoire—rich in operatic drama, lyrical intensity, and expansive orchestration—demanded a musician who could weave seamlessly between grandiosity and intimacy. McGill’s playing did just that.
Breaking Barriers at the New York Philharmonic
In 2014, McGill stepped into a role that no Black musician had ever held before: principal clarinetist of the New York Philharmonic. The appointment was historic, but McGill was more interested in making music than making headlines.
Yet, whether he wanted it or not, he became a symbol of progress in a field that has long struggled with diversity. Classical music, with its deep European traditions and institutional exclusivity, had historically placed barriers—both seen and unseen—in the way of musicians of color. McGill’s presence on one of the world’s most prominent orchestral stages sent a powerful message: talent knows no racial boundaries.
And talent, McGill has in abundance. His playing is often described as “liquid gold,” capable of shifting from the most delicate, silken pianissimos to commanding, fiery bursts of virtuosity. Whether performing the introspective Adagio from Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto or navigating the jazz-inflected rhythms of Leonard Bernstein’s Prelude, Fugue, and Riffs, McGill’s artistry is defined by an extraordinary range of color and expression.
Music as Activism
McGill’s legacy, however, is not solely about performance—it’s about purpose. He has long been vocal about the need for greater inclusivity in classical music, advocating for systemic change in an industry that has historically marginalized musicians of color.
In 2020, following the killing of George Floyd, McGill turned to his instrument as a means of protest. He recorded a haunting, wordless version of America the Beautiful, ending with a gesture both subtle and powerful: he kneeled, holding his clarinet in silent defiance. The video, which he shared with the hashtag #TakeTwoKnees, went viral, igniting a wave of solidarity among musicians around the world.
McGill didn’t stop there. He has used his platform to push for diversity in classical music education, serving as a mentor to young musicians and working with organizations like the Juilliard Music Advancement Program and the Sphinx Organization, which supports Black and Latinx classical musicians.
A Legacy Still in Motion
Even as he continues to break barriers and redefine what it means to be a classical musician in the 21st century, McGill remains first and foremost an artist dedicated to his craft. His collaborations span across genres—he has premiered works by contemporary composers like Richard Danielpour and Anthony Davis, performed alongside jazz musicians, and embraced experimental chamber music.
And yet, no matter the setting, his music remains deeply personal. His sound carries the echoes of the South Side, the rigor of Curtis, the grandeur of the Met, and the weight of history.
Anthony McGill is more than just one of the greatest clarinetists of his time. He is a bridge between past and future, between tradition and transformation. And with each note, he reminds us that music—at its best—is not just an art form, but a force for change.
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