Klarinet Archive - Posting 000005.txt from 2008/01

From: "Daniel Leeson" <dnleeson@-----.net>
Subj: [kl] A trip to the past
Date: Tue, 01 Jan 2008 13:24:42 -0500

Two nights ago, I was at an 80th birthday party in Redwood City, CA, and the
celebratee was Barbara Levine, wife of a world-class phychologist who passed
away only a month ago. Barbara happens to be a flutist. We had played
together. At the party was Frances Blaisdell, well into her 90s and still
teaching flute at Stanford University. Although frail and having difficulty
seeing, she still has a razor sharp mind and a quick wit.

But I bring her name up because she is the wife, now widow, of one of the
great clarinetists of two generations ago, Alex Williams. I knew Alex both
because we lived in the same general area of New Jersey's Bergen county.
Later he moved to Los Altos, California, and I moved to the same town some
10 years later. I always said that I was the second best basset horn player
in Bergen County because was a master on the instrument, and there were only
two of us who played the instrument. And when I moved to Los Altos, I
continued to be the second best basset horn player in the town because was
only a 10 minute walk from my house.

Alex played with both the NBC Symphony under Toscanini and the NY
Philharmonic, at different times, of course. He was also a leading free
lancer in New York, and a well-known teacher. There are lots of great
stories about him, and several years ago an article in the Clarinet was
submitted (by Mark Brandenburg and Janet Averett) following an interview
with the then 90 year old Alex Williams.

So I was sitting next to Frances and she began telling me many of the
stories of the players that both she and her husband had known and played
with in New York. The first brief story was that towards the end of World
War 2 when few men were available to play Broadway shows, she got the flute
job for the musical Carousel, which opened in April 1945) and then played
the show's entire run of 890 performances.

Then she told me about playing wind quintets with Bellison, Benny Cohen,
then first bassoon with the New York Philharmonic, and Bruno Labate, also
first with the NYP. The stories about Labate, both his magnificent playing
and his heavily Italian-accented comments made during orchestral rehearsals
are legend. Just one: Labate was playing under Klemperer who was giving
several of the orchestral players, including Labate, a hard time. Finally
Labate had had enough abuse and spoke up, saying, "Hey! Klemp. Ima got tree
apardement 'ouses ina da Bronx, ana 50,000 dallas ina da bank. You don'
scare me!"

Frances spoke very highly of Bellison, particularly his character and
fundamental decency, though she was fully ready to give his playing the
highest possible accolades.

Finally Frances told the story of how she got into the New York musical
school she attended (and I forgot to ask the name of the school). She
submitted an application and received an invitation to audtion on a certain
day. When she arrived and identified herself, they were horrified, saying,
"We never allow women entry into the wind instrument studies. And it is
clear that someone misspelled your name as 'Francis' which we took to mean
that you were a man. The problem that you must face is that we train
players for the major symphonic organizations of America, and there are no
openings for women in any American orchestra. So we would waste our money
and time on you because you could not get a job as a woman flute player. We
recommend that you become a nurse, a teacher, or a secretary."

But Frances insisted at least on being heard because, perhaps, the flute
instructor could give her some valuable criticism. So reluctantly she was
send to the studio of the flute teacher, who happened to be French and with
a waxed moustache. She was 16 and auditioned as best she could. When
finished, the teacher said to her, "Now you must go downstairs and tell the
administators that I will hapily take you on a student, and you will pay no
fee. Comprenez-vous??"

A delicious evening for me.

Dan Leeson
dnleeson@-----.net
SKYPE: dnleeson

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