Curtis Nystrom '02 took the rare step, for a BFS student, of 
heading south after graduation for sunny Miami and an unexpected route to the music industry. After some major successes and a few years getting to be a touring rock-and-roller he's returned home to Manhattan to work for an unusual nonprofit which provides career support to blind musicians.
"I grew up in Washington Heights, way uptown," he said. "Obviously quite a trek to Brooklyn Friends." He shot hoops on occasion with kids in the neighborhood and remembers it as "a great place to grow up." Curtis entered BFS in ninth grade, he and his parents deciding on the school because of its reputation for being "an open-minded place."
He admits, though, that like so many students before him, he didn't really have a clue about Quakerism or Quaker values. "I do remember reading that it was one of the most diverse schools in the city, and by extension probably the world," he said. "It seemed like a nurturing, politically active environment."
His apprehension at being a freshman at a new school was dispelled somewhat when he discovered the fact that he was entering with an old friend, James McCown. "We'd gone to elementary school together," explained Curtis. "He was my first buddy that I remember at BFS. I remember walking in with him. I was nervous, worried about how cliquey it would be." He was also worried about the fact that so many of his classmates had been going to school together for years and that he was coming in as an outsider. "But truthfully," he said, "friends were pretty forthcoming. For the most part we felt pretty comfortable right off the bat."
He also recalls his and James' confusion at their first Quaker meeting. "I really do remember. Everybody sits down, and we're waiting for somebody to say something, and we look at each other like what is going on? We started to understand after that."
Does he remember any particularly influential teachers? That's an easy one: "Lyubov." Longtime Upper School science teacher Lyubov Obertnaya, who still teaches at BFS, was Curtis' advisor throughout his four years here. "She is just such an unbelievably warm person and helped us through many of our teenage angsty rebellion kind of moments," Curtis recalled with notable affection. "I'll always be thankful to her. She was the best advisor you could have."
Longtime Upper School history teacher and championship basketball coach Vladimir Malukoff is also a standout. "I never did particularly well in his classes," he acknowledged, "and I was never on any of his basketball teams, but I just remember him being such a real person. One thing he said resonated and made me think of my grandfather. He was talking about some of the jobs he used to have, I think he used to work in construction. He was a carpenter I believe. He said, 'Somebody has a role in everything. Whether you're a carpenter or a physicist you should respect people's professions.'" Curtis went on to work a few summer construction jobs and always thought of Vlad when he gained experiences from such positions. "It's valuable to have a diverse work history," he said.
By his own admission Curtis was much more interested in playing guitar than studying history or playing team basketball. Even so, BFS was accommodating. When he and his friends started a jazz band the school brought in a jazz instructor. "You don't realize it at the moment how influential people are on your lives," Curtis said. "I wouldn't say I was a rebel but I was always on the fringe, acted out a little bit. I don't regret a moment of that but even when you think you're not learning you always are."
Curtis wound up receiving a partial scholarship to attend the University of Miami. "It isn't the place I expected to wind up," he said. "I went down there on a whim to do the audition and they really liked me and I really liked them." He set out majoring in Performance and planning for a Bachelors in Music degree, studying studio recording and concentrating on jazz with a guitar focus. He soon switched, however, to a BA major with a minor in the music business along with a minor in history in order to expand his horizons a bit. "In the music school they shut you into that musical corner," he lamented of academia. Trying to make a system out of music, especially jazz music which is rooted in improv, got to him.
Not long after graduating college Curtis became involved with the Miami-based band the JeanMarie which went on to some solid successes in between Curtis' various day jobs working for a record label, a music publishing company and a history museum. "We produced 3 records and we probably played 125 shows over 3 or 4 years," he said. "We opened for the B-52s, Bloc Party and hellogoodbye."
In 2008 the New York Times, in an appreciation of the burgeoning indie music scene in South Florida, which it dubbed a "tropical Bohemia," Curtis' band received a special mention as among "the newest exponents of...bands with jazz-school pedigrees and hybrid sounds: the punk-soul of Awesome New Republic (better known as ANR), the electro bliss of Airship Rocketship and the progressive pop of the JeanMarie."
After 8 years of life in "tropical Bohemia" the band grew tired of the South Florida scene and relocated to Philly. Curtis went a little further north and came back to Manhattan. Today he works as Director of Artist Development for the Chelsea-based Visionary Media, a nonprofit which provides training, career, and marketing support for blind artists working in music, media and advertising. The position "takes part of my background at labels and part of being a musician," he explained. "I'm the first line of contact with all of the artists we work with."
Currently the organization handles about 150 clients nationwide. "Musicians these days have to be master of so many things. You can't just play guitar and think somebody's going to discover you. You have to be a promoter, a marketer, a web design expert. A big part of what I do is help new artists tackle some of those projects."
Curtis lives in Chinatown with his girlfriend of many years, Dana, a teacher. He's also been known to turn up at Quaker meetings in the city. "I'm not particularly religious but I very much value the community," he said. "You go to meeting and it's incredible how diverse the people are, but they have so much in common. There's a sense of community-mindedness and just good-heartedness. I love the concept."
This relatively young alum's advice to the current crop of BFS seniors? "It's all about appreciating what you have. I'm not that old and I can imagine being a student and hearing somebody say that and thinking whatever, but it's really true. Value and try to develop your relationships with people in your class, and your teachers," he stressed. "Get what you can from them. It might be a math class that you're not really excited about," he added, apparently speaking from direct experience, "but there's something positive to be gained. The teachers are always there and they want to support you. Live in the moment. I think it's beautiful."