For once I can tell you the date of a story I am about to relate. This is possible because the pictures that relate to the tale were taken at a time in my life when I was so organized that I actually wrote the date and place on the envelope before I filed it.
The Arctic Chamber Orchestra did not always travel in ancient airplanes, or in flotillas of float planes, or by river boat. Every once in a while, the funding situation was such that all we could afford was a bus. 1976 was one of those years.
If you look at a map of Alaska, even now you will notice that the vast majority of the state is devoid of anything that remotely resembles a road. When we went on a bus tour, we were limited in the communities we visited.
We headed south from Fairbanks, and the first place we were scheduled to perform was in Palmer, in the high school gymnasium. It is never that much fun to perform music in a gym, they usually have an impressive echo. The Palmer High School gym was no exception. In fact, it had one of the most impressive echo systems I have ever encountered. About 15 feet above the main gym floor, there was a balcony that went all the way around the basketball court, overhanging the ouside area of the room below. This balcony had a very nice running track around the outside wall.
We arrived in plenty of time for a warm up rehearsal before the potluck dinner that the Palmer Arts Association was putting on for us. It was during rehearsal that the echo of the gym presented us with certain performance challenges. We were playing a symphony by Haydn (I believe), and in the last movement there was a grand buildup to a dominant fifth chord, which was followed by a radical key change from G major to E flat as I recall. The key change was a huge surprise following that dominant chord, and the effect was really quite cool when you did it in a concert hall. In that gym, with the Huge D Major Chord with it’s seventh reverberating around the room, the effect of the orchestra hitting the surprising E flat major chord that ensued was totally lost in the complete mish-mash of god-awful conflicting harmonies.
It was awful. We stopped to reconnoiter. Gordon had us make the crescendo buildup to the chord, and then we sat there, horrified and awed, while he timed the echoes as they bounced round and round the huge room. It took a full 90 seconds for the sound to die away. “Well, we can’t have THAT grand a grand pause,” he said. “Maybe it won’t be so bad when there is an audience in here.” Our strategy was to approach the chord at only a forte, rather than a fortissimo, wait a not-too-long interval for the sound to sort of die away, and then play on, hope for the best and bash on through. That is exactly what we did.
That evening’s program was rather ill fated anyway. All the echoing made the French overture we were playing less than crisp. There was a “train wreck” in the Concerto. After intermission, the beginning of the second half of our concert was punctuated by rhythmic thudding from the balcony. Some intrepid jogger was availing himself of the running track up there. One of the members of the Arts Association scurried upstairs to get the exerciser to desist, and we were treated to the discussion that ensued. Apparently the person thought we were all done when intermission started, and decided it was safe to get in his run. He was pretty peeved that we had started playing again. He was gently ejected from the building, and we began the symphony over again.
The chord was negotiated without mishap. It sounded rather horrible for a while as the harmonies clashed, but the audience didn’t seem to mind. We finished up to rousing cheers and applause, packed up and got sent off to the homes we were staying in that night.
The next morning, our first destination was Moose Pass, an extremely tiny community between Anchorage and Seward. We were scheduled for a school lunch followed by a matinee concert for the kiddies. Since we had plenty of time to get there, we played tourist along the way and visited the Portage Glacier. Even so, we were quite early for our concert date, and so we found a way to enjoy ourselves while preparations for our lunch were completed:
The lunch was a school lunch, and the concert was a rousing success. Of course, when kids get to get out of class for an Event, they are always quite enthusiastic. However, most of their parents were also in attendance, and they liked us too. We packed up, and got on the bus for the short trip to Seward, where we were scheduled to perform an evening concert.
We were on our way in plenty of time to get there, try out the hall, and sightsee a bit before the potluck and concert. So, when we came around a corner and saw a line of cars stopped ahead of us, we were not overly concerned. The road construction season was winding to a close, and we knew that the crews would be anxious to finish before the big freeze and heavy snows began.
A closer look at the waiting vehicles put a seed of doubt into our minds. None of the cars were running. In addition, about 50 yards ahead of us in the queue there was a group of people who had seen fit to collect some wood and build a fire in the road (which was gravel). They were gathered around it in a convivial group, drinking the contents of their collective thermoses, which seemed to have been adulterated with some sort of antifreeze, judging by their evident high spirits.
Our conductor exited our conveyance and walked off down the road to find out what was going on. When he returned, he informed us that there had been blasting going on ahead, and the road crew was busy removing the rocks that had fallen from the road way. They figured it would be quite a while before they were finished and we could be on our way. Gordon had been able to prevail on the foreman to radio his counterpart on the other side of the blockage and get him to send someone down the road to Seward to apprise them of the situation vis a vis the orchestra.
We sat around for a while, and then an impromptu dance band formed. It consisted of a clarinet, a string bass, a trumpet, a fiddle player and someone banging on a bucket for percussion. And we whiled away the time as we waited dancing Virginia Reels and other folk dances. Some of the other occupants of vehicles joined in. The tall bearded gentleman in the beret and blue jacket is our conductor, Gordon B. Wright.
Eventually, the overburden was moved, and the line of cars began to move. The fire was extinguished, the bus loaded, and off we went, tardy once again.
Seward is a pretty small town, and the word of our predicament had been passed effectively. The concert tinme was pushed back an hour, and we availed ourselves of the spectacular potluck the Arts Association had put on for us: shrimp, halibut, and cracked king crab legs. Replete, we performed another concert for another wildly enthusiastic audience.
And so to bed, farmed out to various members of the community. As I fell asleep that night, I imagined that the gym in Palmer was still echoing faintly, the last notes of our concert still tumbling about in the corners of the balcony.
I love the dancing in the street picture! It reminds me of me and my kids – we dance a lot, though not necessarily in the street. I also like the idea of the last notes of your concerts still echoing in the gym long after you had left it. Great story, thank you.
Thank you again for a great read, hmh. I saw the slide shot and my twisted mind saw the slippery slope to Hell which so many talented musicians travel. I’m still on a Janis Joplin nostalgia trip at the moment 🙂
Like Charlotte I enjoyed the echoes thought. Joan Baez sang about echoes;
“We’ll move up into the mountains so far that we can’t be found
And throw ‘I love you’ echoes down the canyon
And then lie awake at night till they come back around”
Well, I’ll be! I was in that area that year as well. Spent July 4th in Seward. I was working with the Forest Service at their camp on Kenai Lake just south of Moose Pass. I even rang the bell in the Moose Pass saloon a number of times.
I’m enjoying the Arctic stories, hmh. Just wondering … did you ever go to this place?
Yes I’ve been to North Pole. It is about eight miles outside of Fairbanks and I believe that the story is rather exaggerated. It may have changed a lot, but there was not that much emphasis on Christmas the last time I was there, which was only about ten years ago. Of course, NP may have changed a lot since I was last there.
But it is really a suburb of Fairbanks and serves as a bedroom community for the University of Alaska. I have a girlfriend that I worked with at the INstitute of Marine Sciences who lived in North Pole, and her address was Birchtree Lane, so it is not ALL Santa and Christmas related.
In fact, I suggest you go here: http://maps.google.com/maps?q=North+Pole,+AK+99705 and zoom in on North Pole and start looking at the street names. Kenai Drive, Refinery Loop, etc etc etc. It ain’t all Christmas.
Ellie: I am in that picture on the teeter-totter! I have never seen that picture, either, its cool! I am the person in back with the bandanna on my head across from Bron Kalita—he was heavy enough to balance out two people. Alas, Bron passed away some years ago. I think that is Leslie Fairy Attebery in front of me. That’s Inga Lisa Wright on the neighboring tot looking at the camera.
I also remember that dance in the street outside of Seward. It was Terry Chapin (a violist) who pulled out a fiddle for the impromptu contra dance. I recognized Frances Randall–the tall blond–in the dance photo. Boy, did that bring back fond memories!! Terry is still in Fairbanks and his son Mark was a competitor in the March 2007 international ice carving championships.
Who is the upside-down chick on the slide? I bet Glen Johnson has some pictures as well as memories. I think Dorli Demmler McWayne and Sandy Serdahely Clark were working on compiling Arctic Chamber Orchestra stories. I think Candis Shannon was working on something too. I remember her asking people to submit entries.
Bron Kalita was my orchestra teacher and director at Oak Lawn High school in 1964. I always wondered what became of him – he was a nice guy.
Maude Fried Goodnight is on the sliding board
The girl on the slide is one of the few people I actually wrote the name on the back of the photo. It is Maud Fried, who was a cellist.
There were so many adventures centered around ACO trips, I am not surprised a lot of different people were thinking of putting together stories. I never heard from Candis Shannon.
The problem is, I went off to California and got sucked into the maelstrom of life and lost contact with pretty much Everybody.
I would like to contact Candis Shannon, I was one of the pilots that flew the symphony around the bush in a C-46.
Inga Wright told me that Candis was interested in stories and pictures of the event.
Grant Stoddard
Grant, I looked in my 2003 Alumni Directory and it lists the last address for Candis as PO Box 81453, Fairbanks AK 99708. At that time she was an Executive ASsistan at the Laborers Local Union, 2740 Daives Road, Fairbanks. Home phone listing: 907-479-6030
Good luck, hope this helps.
hmh,
I am an old (ain’t most of us now) dear friend of Maud Fried and would love to make contact with her again for both musical collaboration and catching up.
Other acquaintances of the time were Jim Passard, Robin Kissinger, Sylvia Mitchell, Steve Mitchell, Gary Westcott, Mike Heimbuch, Bob Storrs, the saunas at the Koponen’s ( I once rented their octagon cabin on Chena Ridge).
Heady times and wonderful people, it ain’t funny…… how time slips away.
Any help you can offer up to say hello to Maud would be a wonderful thing.
David Otness in Cordova
Although I was not on the 1976 tour, I remember earlier tours (71-74). It’s been way too long. I do know Maud. She and I play with the Bay-Atlantic Symphony in southern NJ. She is married to Steve Goodnight, also a cellist, and she works at Cumberland County College. Hope this helps.
Ellie and others: I so remember that trip and the dancing in the street. And, Delanour [deloris?] we used to play bassoon together. I miss those old days in Fairbanks so much. The bad news that you all may not have heard is that our good friend, Candis, passed away on Wed, Nov. 11th. She had mesothelioma [sp] the lung cancer that is often the result of asbestos exposure. I don’t know how long she had been ill, but the time from the diagnosis to her passing was quite short. I believe there is a memorial being worked out for the first part of December by some of her Fairbanks friends. Dorli McWayne would know more details. I am still playing bassoon and had the good fortune of being able to join Gordon’s orchestra that gathered in the Florida Keys for several springs prior to his passing. The last time I played, I think it was 2006, Candis was able to be there and got to talk to lots of old Fairbanks folks……me, Julie Morehouse, Ted & Kay Decorso, Paul Rosenthal….I know I am forgetting someone. It was a great time. Wish there was just one more sauna…..
Funny you should write that as at this very moment my sauna here in Lebanon MO is heating up. My husband Jim will be home from a trip tonight and I thought it would be nice if it was hot. Ever coming through on I44, just give a ring and we could heat it up for you.
Sorry to hear about Candis. I’m a little envious of the orchestra in the Keys. Sounds like a lot of fun. Oh, I have such memories of those times.
Linda Soares! contact me david_lovine at yahoo dot com !
David
Thank you for sharing these Ellie! These are wonderful, and colorful memories of awesome folks!! I loved every minute of our bus tour as well as the C-46 adventures!! Do you still meet in the Keys?
Hello Maud, So good to know you are still keeping the planet beautiful with your presence.