N. Schweikert about Max Wenneing, Metropolitan
Opera Contrabassonist
D. de la Nuez concerning IDRS electronic
newsletter
B. Haynes with information on Nova Music
H. Kohn about bargain bassoons
J. Paull concerning John Price's letter
Dear Dan,
In looking through the Fall, 1992 issue of The Double Reed, I
noticed on page 42 the photograph of the contrabassoon player
which was pictured in Instruments of the Modern Symphony Orchestra
and Band by Arthur Edward Johnstone (Carl Fischer, 1930 edition).
It so happens that I have in my collection earlier editions of
this booklet. The first edition of 1917 identifies all the players
featured therein and this particular contrabassoonist is identified
as Max F. Wenning, Metropolitan Opera House Orchestra. N.Y. Player
identifications were eliminated in the 1928 and 1930 editions
and by the 1948 edition many new photographs were used, including
the contrabassoonist. These players were unidentified and I have
yet to discover who was
pictured on this instrument in the 1948 edition.
According to the orchestra salary account books in the archives
of the Metropolitan Opera, Max Wenning was in the last chair of
the first violin section from at least 1909-10 through the 1916-17
season. Almost all personnel records before 1909 have not survived
in the Met's archives. A very complete collection of personal
contracts from 1909-10 also are available for study in
their archives and I had an opportunity to see those for the 1912-13
season since the salary account book for that season was missing.
Mr. Wenning's contract stated that he was to play first violin
and contrabassoon. He was not listed with the bassoons in the
other salary account books but with the first violins. Violin
was obviously his primary instrument, at least as far as the Met
Opera was concerned. So far I have not found any additional information
on Mr. Wenning but if I do discover something I will let you know.
It might be of interest to your readers to know that the other
double reed players featured in the aforementioned editions of
1917, 1928, and 1930 are Frederick de Angelis, oboe (N.Y. Philharmonic),
Romeo Boninsegna, English horn (Met Opera), and Auguste Mesnard,
bassoon (N.Y. Philharmonic).
Sincerely,
Norman Schweikert
Lake Forest, Illinois
My dear Mr. Stolper:
As I am an oboe player and you are the oboe editor of the I.D.R.S.
publications, I have chosen to write to you in order to make a
general suggestion for the Society. I boldly put forth the following:
why not have an I.D.R.S. electronic newsletter? Not too many months
ago I discovered the wonders of "e-mail" and have since
been subscribed to two newsletters from which I have benefitted
greatly. I think that an I.D.R.S. electronic newsletter would
provide a unique opportunity for double reed players from the
four corners of the Earth to share ideas on a daily basis. I would
greatly appreciate your thoughts on this. Musically yours,
David de la Nuez Room 5312,
Class of '26 Hall West Campus
Cornell University
Ithaca, NY 14853-5112
[See Bassoonists' News of Interest in this issue. ED]
Dear Dan,
Mr. James Ledward of Nova Music recently wrote me that, contrary
to information in my book Music for Oboe, 1650-1800 (1992), his
music publishing company, Nova Music, continues to trade. This
is very good news, since the materials they offer are of first-class
quality and interest.
I would appreciate it if you could find space to publish this
letter in an upcoming number.
Yours sincerely,
Bruce Haynes
Montreal, Canada
Dear Ron:
I mentioned in a previous article that I had found some remarkable
bargains in bassoons. The article "What Bassoon?" by
Graham Sheen et. al. in your last issue prompted this letter.
In 1947 I bought a Heckel bassoon (no serial from a music store
in New York for $750. For those days this was a slightly high
price! I lost it two years later and replaced it with a Mollenhauer,
serial #1697 which I got from Simon Kovar for $400. This was a
great instrument and served me well for many years. In 1978, I
stumbled across a Schreiber, (Serial #1497) in a New York music
store for $395. A few years later I sold the Mollenhauer (a big
mistake) for $700. I sure wish I had it back. I had the Schreiber
overhauled last year and it is now
appraised at $2500.
Three years ago a flutist in our band brought me a bassoon she
was considering buying for $600. It was a Carl Wunderlich, Serial
#8 0) and it was great; beautiful flamed maple (although the finish
could have used some refurbishing) and good response, intonation
and tone. I was sorry I didn't get a chance to buy it first.
The main point to this letter is to be always on the lookout for
bargain bassoons. Although they may not be adequate for sophisticated
symphony playing, they make good student, community orchestra
and band instruments. You should pay more attention to the instrument
than to the brand. In my wanderings, I have come across bad Heckels
and good Conns. You should
also be aware that some Conns were subcontracted from other makers.
So you really never know!
Yours sincerely,
Harold W. Kohn
Columbus, Ohio
Dear Lowry,
I was very surprised last spring to see that you had used part
of my query about how and where to pay dues in the Double Reed
I am very pleased, by the way, that it's all far easier to follow
now. I got lots of letters, encouragement and scores sent to me
from places as far apart as San Francisco and Tasmania - what
a great idea the I.D.R.S. is - I was delighted.
In reply to John Price's letter in the last issue, I'd like to
have a little of your precious space, Lowry, to state my case.
Unlike John, I do not .specialize in larger oboes" and "don't
mind being called an oboist." Next year I will celebrate
the double reed equivalent of Scott's crossing of Antarctica -
thirty years of a cold empty, bleak and winding road! O.K. - so
I started playing
when I was two! John's got a good ten to go before he catches
up on the kilometers of transposition (for an oboe d'amore in
Bb!) archeology and research and head-against-wall banging trying
to get people to take one's speciality seriously. Anyone know
a recording company which doesn't scream "what's that?"
at the mention of the instrument's name? (of course one can slide
in a track or two on an oboe disc) or an orchestra that doesn't
tend to reply "if there is a slot for a solo wind concerto
it's naturally our principal oboist who will perform." Naturally!
What I was objecting to, Lowry, that you had omitted in the part
of my letter you quoted, was that you had sent me a copy of my
entry in the I.D.R.S. computer. This read "Jennifer Paull,
oboe, English horn." I was so mad I'd written back with a
"where did you ever get that idea
from" and "If I can't call myself an oboe d'amore player
in the I.D.R.S., then where the hell can IT'
We all know that the oboe comes from French "haut-bois"
- high wood. (That's getting to be more and more the case, by
the way. Kim Walker told me the other day that she'd just had
to play the Weber in Berlin at 449!) So far, so good. We all have
the guts to admit that in our own language. Things start getting
a bit more complicated when the "oboe da caccia" or
"hunting oboe" got called a "horn" because
it was curved. We also all know the bit about some wise-guy who
had a brainwave and bent a crook and another who had a brainstorm
and misspelled "anglé" for "anglais."
So here we are, stuck with a label "cor anglais" for
something which is neither a "horn" nor "English."
At least, our American colleagues have the guts to call it thus.
The French,
the Italians, the Germans and for all I know, the Azerbaijanis
admit the mistakes of others into their own language. But oh no,
not the British! We prefer to shroud the error in mystery with
a French flavour and call it (with an atrocious accent) the "cor
anglais" ("Koronglay" - sounds like a Malayan takeaway
in Seoul). That way we clearly show that the fault lies in the
low-quality gray-matter of some foreign nitwit and can definitely
not be placed at our door. Why don't we call the tenor oboe the
"Siberian sackbutt" or the "Burmese bagpipe?"
I'll leave John to fight for the rights of the delicious rich
"Baryton" which is really the bass oboe. It's the alto
oboe that has been "not so much an instrument but more a
way of life" (to paraphrase an old TV programme) for me for
all these years that I want to talk about.
The Italians and the French and even the Germans (!) accept
the idea that its mellower sound deserved the qualification "d'amore,"
"of love." It must be said that the individual who was
responsible for this particular spark of brilliance had not seen
"Basic Instinct." "So," I lecture on, "there
are three instruments with this title: the flute d'amour and (careful
here) the viole d'amour." Now this is really dangerous ground.
Living as I do in the French-speaking part of Switzerland, I give
many lecture recitals in French as well as English. Even after
living a francophone existence for years and years I still mix
up the odd "le" and "la," who doesn't? Well
- this is not the place to get it wrong - no way! The instrument
is "la viole," rape is "Ie viole." So, if
I say "le viole d'amour," I'm in big trouble. I tend
to skirt around this landmine which seems to draw me with magnetic
force, by calling it the .viola d'amore" - ouf!
That's the problem with us Brits. "No sex please, we're British."
Let's call it the "oboe d'amore" and maybe the embarrassing
"love oboe" will go away. We pronounce the first bit
in English and the juicy part in Italian, "d'amore."
It should be "oboe d'amore" to be correct. But then
as your T-shirt publicity regularly reminds me with "oboe
d'amore d'merrier," my dear American colleagues call it the
"oboe d'amor (e)." The French have a very attractive
quality; they don't panic about matters to do with love, they
tend to accept certain inclinations with philosophy. They admit
it 100%. "Hautbois d'amour" sounds to them as "Love
oboe" would sound to us. Is "Oboe of Love" more
poetic or pedantic? Let's shove it into Italian and forget about
it - ouf!
When I fell in love with the oboe d'amore (as I am therefore obliged
to call it), I was studying at the Royal College of Music, London
with Terence MacDonagh. He would not even let me mention it. "Wouldn't
take that silly thing seriously if I were you, always out of tune,
dreadful waste of time." In those bygone days of the Wild
Oboistic West, very few people had their own
instruments. Orchestras usually had one of their own which was
hardly even the variation of thumbplate/conservatoire, semi/fully-automatic
octaves and of course, make, that the principal oboist favoured.
Those were the good old days when, based in London, I kept British
Rail going single-handed and dashed from Cantata to Passion all
over the place.
What a relief for the Loreé/Conservatoire-playing principal that he didn't have to churn out the obligati on a Howarth/Thumbplate carefully hidden in the store room or vice versa. I also discovered just how many people since Ravel had sought out its special tone and played a great deal of avant-garde music with the BBC Symphony Orchestra in the reign of Pierre Boulez.
By this time I'd realized that this instrument was really all
I wanted. The sound of the oboe came out a minor third too high
and too tiny and that of the Burmese bagpipe a major third too
low and too fluffy. So, I gave up free-lance mixed-oboe playing
to dedicate myself to the oboe d'amore and start the Antarctic
trek working in publishing and management to be with composers
many of whom wrote for me and taught me a great deal. It was particularly
wonderful to work with Bruno Maderna. I was working with his impresario
at the time he wrote his Third Oboe Concerto for Han de Vries
(for which I wrote the BBC Programme note). Alas, his tragic early
death prevented him from writing the oboe d'amore concerto he
had promised or the music-theatre work for Cathy Berberian (a
close friend of both of us) and me. But, apart from buried treasures
I have dug out of cobwebs over the years I now have quite an acceptable
repertoire of excellent original material. Edwin Carr in New Zealand
was the first to write me "Four Pieces for Oboe d'amore and
Piano" twenty-five years ago and the New Zealand Arts Council
recently commissioned me four more which are beautiful.
From John McCabe I have an enchanting concerto (sadly harder to
place than to organize a lasting peace agreement in the Middle
East). He also wrote a piece with piano and I suppose I have over
twenty really good original works, many of which are published.
Even if I can't call myself a "love oboist" in English,
I can in French and have "hautboiste d'amour" engraved
on my business cards. I remember once turning up in a wind section
in Liverpool (from where I came) as I did regularly for Bach or
Stockhausen come to that. Someone said "Oh look, it's the
sexy oboe player!" I laughed for days over that one and didn't
know if it was a personal compliment or whether finally somebody
had updated the translation!
Best wishes, Lowry, to you and all pollyreed anonymous friends.
Jennifer Paull
Illarsaz, Switzerland