A new study commissioned by University Admissions found that the majority of students currently enrolled at the Eastman School of Music are actually three chandeliers piled inside a trench coat.

“We are all, of course, familiar with the trope of several children standing on each other’s shoulders and covering themselves with a parent’s trench coat so they can engage in wacky, age-inappropriate hijinks,” Eastman admissions coordinator Theo Ry said. “We’ve all laughed at the antics of Vincent Adultman in “Bojack Horseman,” and we’ve all pretended to laugh when our parents show us that Snickers commercial from five years ago, because we feel bad about dumping them in Tampa and only visiting for Easter and Christmas. But ornamental light fixtures masquerading as human beings to obtain a world-class music education? That’s something new.”

Reactions among Eastman professors have been mixed thus far. Some professors have been utterly bewildered by the study’s findings, while others, particularly those who themselves were alumni of the Eastman School of Music, became suddenly evasive and declined to comment.

A third group of professors admitted that, in hindsight, the study’s findings should have been obvious from the start.

“The rattling and tinkling probably should have given it away,” Eastman Professor Emeritus and marimba ensemble director John Beck said. “Every time one of my students went to pick up their mallets, there was a sound like an entire storage unit full of Christmas ornaments being upended. But then, it sort of added to the timbre of the Steve Reich piece we were working on last semester.”

One Eastman student, who agreed to speak under the assertion of anonymity, claims the school has known about its sizable student population of light fixtures for decades.

“You think all the fancy chandeliers hanging in Eastman’s concert halls were always there?” said the student, who consisted of two ormolus topped with a five-tier wedding cake spilling over the collar of a beige trench coat. “Those are other students, man! I’ve lent my thorax AND abdomen to Eastman for concert hall decoration! It’s the main source of my financial aid these days.”

A general lack of surprise at the study’s findings was also reported among the Eastman undergraduate population.

“I mean, I always sort of suspected,” Eastman first-year Emily Giordano said. “For one thing, my roommate literally glows. And ever since I got here in August, I noticed that everyone seems to radiate a sort of tarnished shine, almost like they’re the fallen demigods of the Greco-Roman tradition. Could it be that Eastman houses talent trapped in the dreary mortal realm of Rochester during winter? Could it be the endless struggle between youthful exuberance and classical discipline, both sides battling it out on the long road to entropy? Or maybe it’s just that chandeliers, those great cobwebs of light, embody the same sort of gaudy, tragic glory as an Eastman student preparing for their degree recital? God, I should probably call my mom more often.”

The study also confirmed that the University’s River Campus, where students are uniformly average at best and often brag about “making beats” in their spare time, does not currently enroll a single chandelier student.



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