The internet is an interesting thing. I have written several posts about my amazing experiences playing in the University Fairbanks Symphony Orchestra and the Arctic Chamber Orchestra. I like to look at the “blog stats” portion of my page to see what is bringing people to my blog. In the last couple of days I have noticed a lot of searches for “Arctic Chamber Orchestra” and “Gordon B. Wright.” It made me wonder what was going on.
When I was a young lady of 18 attending the University of Alaska, Gordon Brooks Wright was the conductor of the orchestra there. Of course, that meant he was in a different generation from me. This morning it occurred to me that perhaps all this search activity was caused by his death and the need for information for an obituary. So I did my own search, and discovered to my sadness that my suspicion was correct.
Gordon Wright’s body was found by a friend and colleague at his cabin recently. The article about it can be found here. One of my best recollections about Gordon can be found on my post about our flight to Gambell on St. Lawrence Island. He figures in one of the photographs in the post about the fall 1976 tour which included Seward on the itinerary.
But the posts referenced above are more about me than about Gordon. He was a truly amazing person. In addition to his musicality, he was also deeply concerned about the environment. He had a great sense of humor, often lightening tense moments during orchestra rehearsal with jokes. I still remember his version of the “flight information announcement” as we took off from one of our numerous visits to a gravel strip somewhere in the Alaska bush. It included a “flight attendant’s unform” and a “wig” (a mop he found somewhere) and had the whole orchestra almost rolling in the aisles in hysterics.
He was conductor when the University Concert Hall was finally completed. Before that, we used to play our concerts in the Regents’ Great Hall, which is the lobby of the theatre and concert hall. The concert that celebrated that grand opening included Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture. Since we didn’t have the proper concert cannon, Gordon prevailed upon the artillery at Fort Wainwright to provide the sounds of the guns going off in the finale. It turned out that the parking lot where the howitzers set up was too far from the concert hall sonically for the sound to be heard within, so a sound system was set up to bring the effect into the concert hall. When that was finally all arranged, we began the section again. The cannon went off — “BANG” — followed by horrible crashing, some yelling, and then silence. We all sat there, rather stunned, wondering what in the world had happened. Turns out the microphone was too close to the gun and the shock wave of the blank going off blew it right out of the parking lot. I heard Gordon mutter something about Bernstein never having to go through stuff like this.
Once we happened to have a concert scheduled for Halloween night. Needless to say, it was deemed imperative that we open the concert with Mussorgsky’s “Night on Bald Mountain”. The orchestra was requested and required to memorize the opening of the work, and to keep all plans a deep dark secret. Against all the Fire Code rules, the exit lights were blacked out in preparation for the opening events that night. After the audience was settled, when the lights went down in preparation for the concert, they went all the way down. The whole place was plunged into darkness. The side doors opened, and a procession began: a group of people in robes, carrying large candles entered. There were pallbearers, carrying a coffin. Slowly, to the sound of a muffled drum beat, the group advanced. The coffin was placed on trestles at the edge of the stage. By then the audience was murmuring. The glimmer of the candles revealed the coffin lid slowly opening. Suddenly, a figure arose from the coffin. It stepped up onto the stage, a long cloak muffling it. The arms came up, the cloak billowing, and the mysterious figure gave the downbeat and we began to play the swirling figures that begin the work. As the lights came up, Gordon tossed the cloak aside and the concert took off amidst a round of applause. As we played, our stage manager scurried to the exit signs to remove the masking from them.
Gordon could have programmed concerts consisting solely of easily accessible classics. But as an educator, he felt it was important to challenge the orchestra as well as the audience. We played Stravinsky, Webern, Alban Berg, Takemitsu. Sometimes we were playing the premieres of 20th century works. He coordinated our concert programmes with the university radio station KUAC; if they were available (and sometimes he would provide them with the requisite recordings) they would play performances of pieces scheduled so that our audience could get familiar with they were going to be listening to.
But it wasn’t all about being avant garde. There was a concern for the sensibilities of the audience too. When we were scheduled to perform Tchaikovsky’s 6th Symphony, Gordon was concerned about the rather down and depressing end of it. We were performing this work in the depth of winter, and he started thinking about the effect this music might have on people as they left the concert and went out into the frigid dark. His solution was we played the concert in reverse order from what is “traditional”: we played the symphony first, then we had intermission, then we played the concerto, and finished with the bright and lively overture.
I don’t believe that Gordon Wright was a world famous conductor, although he certainly had the talent and ability. What he did do was take a group of miscellaneous players of instruments and transform them into an orchestra. His job was not only to meld us into an ensemble, frequently he had to teach us the music as well, acquaint us with the genre we were attempting to play, make us like an atonal work when what we loved was Mozart. He used a combination of irritation, flattery, cajolery, shame, passion and relentless repetitious rehearsal to coax performances from us that were frequently astonishingly good. It was these attributes that made him a great conductor, not just his clear beat and thorough knowledge of music.
Gordon was a conductor, a violist, a composer, a music historian, an outdoorsman, an environmentalist, a father, a teacher. He was one of the greatest people I have known: possibly not famous, but truly a great man. I wish him Godspeed on the next part of his journey through the universe.
HMH, that was beautiful. And funny, like so much of your writing. I knew something was going to happen once you mentioned the 1812 Overture!
Well, there is one thing about that piece of music, it is fraught with difficulties and so there are lots of opportunities for things to go wrong.
It was truly amazing during the rehearsal before they set up the mikes, when the guns went off in the parking lot we could feel them through our chairs but they could not be heard in the hall. There was a truly amazing little big of ingenuity involving a light up in the parking lot and a switch off stage with our music history professor pushing it in order to cue the guns. They had to time the delay in the signalling. Otherwise the guns were late because obviously it takes a certain amount of time for the things to actually fire.
Anyway, it was a lot of fun.
What a nice tribute to Gordon.
The 1812 Overture, landing lights not turned on, planes freezing in the hanger, drafting orchestra members to co-pilot planes,
If anyone was ever worth the subject of a book………
I have thought that myself, at times. And I remember back in the 80s that Gordon was going to write a book about the Arctic Chamber Orchestra; he was soliciting pictures and stories. I don’t suppose he ever got it done, though, I never heard anything about it. Funny you should mention the airplane frozen in the hangar, I was just working on that post this morning!
Hi! I was hanging around the UofA campus for three months in late 1972. I spent much of my time at Gordon’s rehearsals and concerts, and took some good photos of him and the orchestra. Very memorable time for me, a 19-year-old classical music enthusiast with nothing to do. Gordon was great, and if I’d stayed, my goal would have been to play with him.
Interested in photos?
Dewey
Yes! Photos please. I’m a good friend of Gordon’s, still in shock, scouring the internet for more stuff on him.
I have asked Dewey for photos via email and he has promised to find some and send them. As soon as I get them I will be posting them.
Hi Ellie: Remember me, when we were stand partners in the Fairbanks Symphony back in 1976?? (or was it 1977?) I would never have survived the viola section with out your help and assistance. I found your website after going through Gordon’s obituaries and found it facinating to read about your past and current life accomplishments since you left Fairbanks. You are one amazing woman! I do remember your massages, though (on Chamber orchestra tours, especially!) I have always wondered what happened to you and where you ended up. I am in Louisiana for a year with husband on sabbatical at LSU. We are returning to Fairbanks in June. I look forward to reading your journal entries. You are a wonderful and colorful writer. Do take care (of that leg, especially.)
Celeste
The Fairbanks Symphony Association is hosting a “Celebration of Life” gathering at Davis Concert Hall on Saturday, March 31st at 4pm. For more information visit the symphony website – http://www.FairbanksSymphony.org
All are invited to come and share memories of Gordon. There will be remarks by friends and also excerpts from video and of course lots of pictures from the Gordon years in Fairbanks and throughout Alaska. The Fairbanks Symphony will also perform Reznicek’s Donna Diana Overture “live and in concert” in honor of Gordon.
Help spread the word!
Thanks,
george rydlinski
I’ve enjoyed reading your posts about Gordon. I didn’t know him but he recently attended our festival concerts here in the Bay Area. And I heard from a reliable source that he was hauled out of his cabin in the same coffin that was used at the Halloween concert mentioned above!
Yes, the man who wrote his obituary for the Anchorage Daily News was one of his friends. We exchanged emails right after the announcement of Gordon’s death and he said that Gordon was very proud of that coffin and pointed it out to everyone. How thrifty!
Dear Friends, by straighten up my old things I found the program of your concert hold in the Church of Emmen, Switzerland, on June 19,1985, in memoriam of my Alphorn friend Josef Ming, past avay short time before. Looking in the website of the Arctic Chamber Orgestra of Fairbanks, i have to constate that his friend, Gordon Wright, was also gon to heaven last year.
Next Wednesday I’m flying to South Carolina, where I will start a trip to the Appallachian Mountains. I will be around for one month abouth.
I’m member of a Alphorn Quartett, called “Schauensee” Kriens,
we are more than 35years together and travlled in the whole world with our Alphorns. By the way, made of “resonance wood” of a friend of me. They has a verry good sound and are verry light (the wood itself are from the same forest where Stradivari had his wood too, for construct his famous violins.
We perform a new composed Mess 4 horns + organ. Our last concert was at Monatery Church at Engelberg/Switz.
If some of your Alphornplayers are interrested to get in contact with us use my mail adress please.
Best regards from Central Switzerland,
Fritz Arnold, Kriens-Lucerne
fritz.arnold@hispeed.ch
P.S. Seppi Ming was with me in the head of the Alphornbläser-Vereinigung Luzern.
see alphorn-luzern.ch
Yes I found this long after the event, but have enjoyed reading it. I am in Kentucky now. I was a Horn player with ACO for many years before leaving AK in 1977. I have told the Gambell story many times, including the fact that we were probaly over Russia or very close at one point….lol. So much of that time in Fairbanks was simply magical wasn’t it? We were part of something very unique because of a very unique man. Gordon…remember even in heaven….never look at the horns. It only encourages them.
Skip Morton
I’m pretty sure that we were very close to Russia, we were definitely in their air space, but the tower in Nome had alerted them to what the problem was so we didn’t end up with a MIG escort.
And yes, Fairbanks in the 70s was amazing, and ACO was one of the most magical experiences of my life. Gordon Wright was a truly great man, and none of it would have happened without him.
Thank you for the story. I actually read this a while ago and came back to it recently, as I am in progress for researching history and information about my father. I am working on an updated web site about him that will include more about his music as some music to listen to as well.
He left an incredible impact on so many people. I feel a mission to somehow record that.
Charlie.
Dear friends,
Wonderful reading these shared memories. These were magical times. I had sent stories and photos to Gordon soon after leaving Fairbanks. Perhaps you have them among your dad’s writings Charles. I hope you are able to assemble a series of his writings; he spoke of it. The orchestra was wonderful. Gordon brought together an amazing variety of talents and spirited energy into making the music come to life. I remember him storming down the stage yelling to the cello section, “Play!!!!!!” “More!!!” in a Tchaikovsky symphony. And when he brought a Sibelius to life calling to mind the similarities of the Finnish winters to our own. And the audience was always packed…and appreciative. The flight to Saint Lawrence Island, dancing in the streets, and long walks before dawn in Haines, I remember well. Thank you all for sharing.
Maud
I enjoyed finding your blog. I guess I played in the chamber orchestra with you.
What instrument did you play?