Condi: The Condoleezza Rice Story (25 page)

In 1990, the federal office that oversees the research budget claimed that Stanford had overcharged millions for indirect costs. The wide-scale audits that followed made big news in the press and Stanford’s reputation was put on the line. The complex auditing process, with dozens of accountants reviewing Stanford’s books at any given time, gave Condi additional supervisory duties in an already demanding job. But when the investigations were completed in 1994, no wrongdoing was found. The federal government “concluded that it has no claim against Stanford for fraud or any wrongdoing or misrepresentation regarding indirect cost submissions,” wrote Gerhard Casper in a public statement.

In addition to unhappy reactions to the job cuts that came with her budget-slashing plan, Condi made some controversial decisions as provost that put her on the firing line. For years, reports had been submitted about the need to hire more women faculty, pointing out that several departments had never hired a woman professor and that, except for the provost, no woman served in the university cabinet. In 1997, Condi admitted that progress was very slow on the issue. She reported that in 1993 the percentage of women on the faculty was 15.8 percent and by 1996 had risen to 17.8 percent—an improvement, but not an earth-shattering one. “Obviously this is slow, steady progress in the right direction,” she said, “but I’d emphasize that the numbers are not flying up.”

Studying the problem, Condi came to the conclusion that the most fundamental roadblock was the slow turnover in senior positions. “You see 1 to 2 percent turnover rates in the tenured faculty,” she explained. “So you simply know that if you’re not enlarging the size of the faculty, percentages are going to move slowly. That’s an arithmetic fact. People may not like that arithmetic fact, but it is an arithmetic fact.”

One incentive to bring more women into faculty positions involved creating a fund for new positions, tailor-made to outstanding women candidates who did not meet specific criteria for other openings. Other than that, the provost’s critics felt that she did not do enough to enforce affirmative action, even though she admitted in meetings that she was a product of affirmative action hiring back in 1981. Condi did not want to send the message to women that Stanford was recruiting them to fill a quota rather than hiring them on their merits. She felt that the positive aspect of showing a commitment to women by setting quotas “is more than outweighed by the downside, which I believe makes people feel as if they are being targeted for the wrong reasons.”

Condi did believe in affirmative action as a starting point in some cases, such as her own, where she was given an opportunity to prove herself but only during a probationary period, after which she was judged strictly on her performance in the political science department. “Done in the right way, affirmative action can be very helpful,” she said. But this did not compel her to institute quotas or make any other sweeping affirmative action policies at the university.

The provost’s affirmative action stance became headline news at Stanford again when she upheld a dean’s decision to not grant tenure to Karen Sawislak, assistant professor of history. Outraged students formed demonstrations on campus, but Condi explained that the dean is held responsible for the quality of the faculty and his decision stands. The provost and advisory board review tenure decisions to make certain that proper procedures were followed in making the determination whether or not to grant tenure. In the Sawislak case, Condi explained, all the procedures were in order. “Tenure is granted to those who have achieved true national distinction in research and excellence in teaching,” she said. “It is a very tough standard, and the dean must decide whether it has been met and make certain that the standard is applied evenly throughout the school. A departmental vote, even a unanimous one, does not usurp the dean’s role in this regard.” She added that affirmative action was not a consideration at this stage, citing a Stanford policy written in 1985. The policy states that affirmative action pertains to the time of search and appointment and the assistant professorship years, but not to the period of tenure review. As she had explained in the Senate meetings about the need to hire more women faculty, Condi drove home the university’s established policy of using affirmative action as a starting point only.

Another controversial issue during Condi’s tenure as provost involved a new core curriculum, “Introduction to the Humanities,” which overhauled both the method and the content of the undergraduate humanities experience. This program, launched in 1997, replaced the previous humanities curriculum entitled “Cultures, Ideas and Values” while expanding upon that program’s multicultural approach. The new humanities course included updated study plans, such as interactive Internet projects and group projects that took the place of final exams. Both the provost and the president of the university fully supported and helped create the new curriculum in the hope that more freshmen would be attracted to humanities courses. Only 12 percent of freshmen showed an interest in studying the social sciences, philosophy, languages, literature, or the arts, a fact that many faculty and administrators were anxious to reverse. “Introduction to the Humanities” included readings on non-Western cultures as well as courses that covered issues of race, ethnicity, and gender.

Condi supported the multicultural aspect of the new curriculum, stating that the story of Western civilization is incomplete without the story of the cultures that it confronted. “The argument that I have never bought . . . is that the study of Western civilization—devoid of the study of all the other civilizations that helped to shape it—was the smart thing to do,” she said. “Human history has been the story of clashes of civilizations and that is the interesting part about it. . . . I never understood the critique that you should teach only Western civilization.”

The changes in curriculum and teaching style were a group effort, spearheaded by a faculty committee and strongly encouraged by Provost Rice and President Casper. “I think the experience that an undergraduate has here in the first two years is just 180 degrees from where it was,” said Condi after the course was launched. “Much more in touch with faculty members, much more small group oriented, much more research oriented.”

Another hot issue that arose during Condi’s term as provost was a housing shortage for graduate students. In May 1998, a group of 1,000 students rallied on campus and 100 camped out for a night on the Quadrangle to protest the shortage of affordable housing. Nearly 900 graduate students who applied for on-campus housing were turned away for lack of room. Condi announced that the university would build new facilities but that the project would take approximately two years after being approved. In the meantime, housing remained a major problem, one which she passed on to her successor.

In spite of controversy over affirmative action, new multicultural programs, and other issues, Condi was widely respected for her achievements with the university budget. At a meeting with the Faculty Senate in May 1996, she announced that the university was not only out of the red, but holding a $14.5 million reserve. “This is something the entire university should be proud of,” she said, attributing the success to spending cuts, a large increase in the value of Stanford’s endowment, and record-breaking fund-raising successes. “I’m very proud we’re fiscally sound now,” she said, but cautioned against going back to old habits. “Universities tend in times of relative flush to keep growing and add functions, and to stop thinking of the necessity for consolidation,” she said. Positions that had been eliminated would eventually be reinstated, for example, moving the ledgers toward another budget crunch. “It seems almost as if there’s a pendulum,” she said, “and you have to be very tough to not have the pendulum swing.”

During her role as provost, Condi continued to teach as a professor of political science. She also renewed her commitment to the piano, joining a faculty chamber group and studying seriously in private lessons. The man who suggested she begin performing again was a colleague at Stanford. “Condi was the provost when I was dean of the law school,” said Paul Brest, who is currently the president of the Hewlett Foundation. A violist, Paul took up the instrument when his children began taking music lessons. “The provost meets with the deans once a month or so,” he said, “and I had heard that she had once been a really serious pianist. I came to one of my monthly meetings with the piano part to the Schumann piano quartet and asked her, ‘How about we play this?’ When she agreed, we started up a piano quartet that played pretty regularly for five years.” The group’s cellist was Walter Hewlitt and the violinists varied, but were primarily Stanford Law School graduate Andrea Chavez and staff member Karen Lindblaum.

Paul said that Condi loved playing piano quartets and quintets and was an excellent chamber music musician. “There’s always a lot of give and take in a quartet,” he said, “with comments like ‘please don’t rush that’ or ‘please play a little bit softer.’ Condi goes so easily with that. She has a very good ear, and she’s a wonderful pianist. String players are always complaining that the piano is playing too loud, it becomes kind of a joke; but she’s able to take criticism, give criticism, and just work with the group. She’s a real team player. You have to do that if you’re playing chamber music.”

This group gave informal recitals in each other’s homes, and enjoyed exploring piano trios, quartets, and quintets by Schumann, Brahms, and others. It offered a challenging musical outlet without the pressure of public performances. But eventually Condi became more serious and set her sights on performing with the Muir String Quartet, a world-class group that often came to Stanford to perform as a scheduled stop on its North American concert tours. Formed in 1980, the Muir Quartet is the resident quartet at the Boston University School for the Arts and winner of the 1981 Naumburg Chamber Music Award. The group is named for the legendary naturalist and Sierra Club founder John Muir, and donates the profits of its recordings to environmental organizations.

Condi had become friends with the Muir Quartet by reading through pieces with them during their Stanford visits. The quartet always played an informal concert in someone’s home before their Stanford performance, and Condi wanted to work up a piece that she could play with them at one of these pre-concerts. The quartet agreed, and Condi began rehearsing the Brahms Piano Quintet in F minor. This work, considered the pinnacle of Brahms’ chamber music, demands virtuosic technique, especially in the third movement, a scherzo marked
Allegro
. Condi was already taking piano lessons with associate professor George Barth when she decided to tackle this piece.

“When we began working I didn’t know what to expect,” said George. “She’s a busy woman, and I thought that maybe she would just have a dilettante approach to things. We started working on a Chopin nocturne and the Beethoven Sonata No. 7 in D Major. She soon said she wanted to ‘put more time into this,’ so I decided to turn up the heat and see how far we could go. I discovered that there was no upper limit to what she could do. I pushed and she responded, every week she came ready to go, intensively working on everything. She worked with great intensity and concentration and remembered everything I said—all the nuts and bolts. She made great progress, and I was really impressed.”

Condi worked with George about ten hours a week while she was preparing to do the Brahms with the Muir Quartet. Whether she was rehearsing for a performance or simply working on new repertoire, she considered her lessons a “sacred” time and would not allow any interruptions. This wasn’t an easy feat for the person with the number-two job at the university. “If she got a call from the office she’d say, ‘I’m doing Brahms now,’ and she told them to wait. She wanted them to know that this was her time to do music.”

George recalled that the Brahms Piano Quintet performance, although in an informal setting, was an exhilarating event. “She played it very well,” he said. “I was amazed at her tempo in the scherzo; it was very exciting.” From the beginning of that November evening, her friendship with the Muir Quartet came through. “They began to play,” said George, “and Condi noticed a funny look on the string players’ faces. The opening lines turned into ‘Happy Birthday’ because it was her birthday. They played it through while everyone in the house sang along. Then they started over for real.”

George prefers to work with people like Condi, non-music majors who have a unique commitment to their art. “Most of my students are neurobiologists and geologists who go on to incredible careers in other fields and happen to be great players,” he said. “I’m interested in how far amateurs can go, and I’ve taught some amazing pianists. When I find, for example, someone in physics who has very difficult work to do but has time for piano, I know he’s going to put in the work. A student like this will tell his lab, ‘I’m playing in a chamber competition this week, I won’t be in.’ These are not amateurs in the sense of just messing around, they’re really serious. As a political scientist and provost, Condi was definitely in that group.”

Regularly scheduled faculty talent shows at Stanford revealed just how skilled many of the engineers and math professors really were. Condi appeared on one of these programs with George after mastering another Brahms piece, the two-piano version of his
Variations on a Theme by Haydn.
“We worked on that and performed it at a faculty talent show,” said George. “It was really fun performing with her. At faculty performances you find all these amazing people crawling out of the woodwork, people who are renowned in other fields and who are also great musicians.” George recalled that Condi later performed the Brahms
Liebeslieder Waltzes
, a collection of joyful, short pieces scored for two pianos and chorus.

Condi’s connection with the Muir String Quartet prompted her and her Stanford string player friends to attend Muir’s summer music workshops. They have traveled to Utah to study at the Advanced Quartet Program at the Institute at Deer Valley, making music against the glorious backdrop of the Wasatch Mountains. George Barth came along for two summers to coach them on some of the piano quartet repertoire. Condi has also followed the Muir Quartet to Montana for summer retreats, where she reads through music with them and practices some of her favorite chamber music repertoire. “I now play almost exclusively chamber music,” she said in 2001, “and I have to be selective. I don’t have that much time to practice. And I do like the social aspects of playing chamber music.” Before she began playing with Paul Brest and the other members of the quartet at Stanford, she had only worked on solo piano music. Chamber music opened a new world to her, one that she continues to explore and enjoy. Given the choice, she would prefer playing with a string quartet or giving a solo recital rather than performing a concerto with an orchestra. “I played with orchestras a couple of times,” she said, “and always found it overwhelming.”