The New York Woodwind Quintet concert in Paul Hall on Tuesday, March 26 will present repertoire from the Classical period to the present day, from an early work by Beethoven to a new work by Charles Neidich, our clarinetist. On this occasion we will also introduce the Quintet’s newest member, Stephen Taylor.

New York Woodwind Quintet: (left to right) Donald MacCourt, bassoon; Stephen Taylor, oboe; Carol Wincenc, flute; Charles Neidich, clarinet; and William Purvis, French horn. (Photo by Peter Schaaf)

The irresistible Beethoven work has an interesting history. It originated as a wind octet, completed in his first years in Vienna—around 1792 to 1793. When it was not accepted for publication in this version, he reworked the piece for string quintet in 1795. Unlike Mozart’s string quintet version of his Wind Octet in C minor, Beethoven’s string quintet version is a complete recomposition of the original, more expanded, with more worked out developmental material, more subtle harmonic languageshort, transformed from entertainment music in to more profound chamber music. Mordecai Rechtman, for many years the principal bassoonist with the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra and a member of the Israel Wind Quintet, has based his brilliant wind quintet transcription on the string quintet version. Rechtman’s reworking for winds sounds so natural that it is as if the work in its more profound form had been entrusted to the strings until such time that the winds had evolved the technical and expressive capabilities to earn it back again. This is a work that we have played often, and that we love to play.

The Françaix Quintette, one of the standards of the quintet repertoire, is a virtuoso tour de force of mischievous humor and willful insouciance. It is also an exemplary demonstration of how to compose for the wind quintet, exploiting every expressive nuance and color possibility.

Janácek composed Mládí (Youth) when he was 70, and it is at once a work of tremendous vitality and seductive nostalgia. In this work Janácek looks back with deep affection and dreamy romanticism on his days as a chorister in a religious school in Brno at age 10. The standard wind quintet is augmented by the use of piccolo in one movement, and by the ingenious inclusion of bass clarinet. For this performance we will be joined by Ayako Oshima, a member of the clarinet faculty and Charles Neidich’s wife.

Neidich’s reputation as a clarinet virtuoso and chamber musician is clearly established, but in the last few years he has begun to make his mark as a conductor and composer as well. He described his new work as written for a quintet plus offstage amplified English horn. Dedicated to the memories of Ronnie Roseman and Sam Baron, it consists of four sections for the quintet and two cadenzas for English horn, played without break, structured as follows: English horn introduction, quintet awakening, English horn cadenza, chorale, scherzo, threnody, coda.

For us, however, the most exciting aspect of our concert is that we will introduce our new oboist, Stephen Taylor. Steve enjoys a career of unparalleled quality as a chamber musician. He is an artist member of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center; principal oboist with Orchestra of St. Luke’s and American Composer’s Orchestra; co-principal oboist with Orpheus Chamber Orchestra; a member of Speculum Musicae; and on the faculties of the Manhattan School of Music and SUNY-Stony Brook. We have all been playing with Steve in these various groups for years, and his addition to the New York Woodwind Quintet is a completely natural process.

I approached Steve with some questions about joining the Quintet, his new experiences at Juilliard in the N.Y.W.Q. Seminar, and his memories of his years as a student at Juilliard.

WP: What are your earliest memories of quintet playing?

ST: Quintet coachings at Juilliard Prep in 1966. We did the Hindemith every Saturday: We’d read a few bars, our coach would take a few puffs on his cigar and make a few comments, and we’d continue that way for an hour—at which point you could hardly see your music through your stinging and tear-filled eyes. We could never get out of that room fast enough! Even now, when I play the Hindemith (one of my favorites), I can smell that cigar. At Juilliard, I played in a different quintet every year and was always fascinated by the psychological dynamics that came into play: which group could get along; which group would pair off, leaving one lonely person; which group would come quickly to the point that the musicians couldn’t stand the sight of each other; who in the group would do all the talking; who’s "rarin’ ta go" and who just sits there. It’s almost a microcosm of much larger groups, and in fact, of life in general. If you can make it in a quintet for any length of time—have fun, make a valuable contribution and play the way you were meant to play—you can make it anywhere. It’s the most revealing venue for one’s self. For these five very different instruments, just blending is a major feat. It’s chamber music at its most basic level, I think, but with rich rewards if you work through things and can maintain a major-league sense of humor.

After I graduated I was in the New Amsterdam Quintet, and we were invited to be quintet-in-residence at SUNY-Binghamton. It was a five-hour drive every week, and none of us had a car, so we used Rent-a-Wreck. We never had one trip that went without incident—flat tires; bald tires in winter that sent us twirling down the highway; engines that died halfway, forcing us onto the bus; gas tanks that leaked for an hour, then went bone dry in the middle of nowhere—but it was some of the most fun playing that I ever had. We found a certain devil-may-care attitude that seemed to take the pressure out of the concerts.

WP: What are your first memories of the New York Woodwind Quintet?

ST: My first memories of the Quintet were through Ronnie (Roseman); he was always running off to a rehearsal, concert, or recording with the N.Y.W.Q. We played together in N.Y. Philomusica and Musica Sacra in those days, and he always had some N.Y.W.Q. stuff going through his mind. He’d be madly trying to scrape a quintet pianissimo low C into his reed for a Danzi or Reicha quintet, and I didn’t fully appreciate how hard that was until I faced it myself later in my career. (Better late than never!) Mostly, back then, it was the recordings that we all loved so much. When you’re young, it’s hard to give up a fine evening to go to a concert, sometimes—even though you should!

WP: What are your impressions of the New York Woodwind Quintet Seminar so far?

ST: The seminar is similar to the ones in the early ’70s, when Mel Kaplan would preside. We all had our coachings with various faculty members and then we’d have a bash in one of the orchestra rooms. Lots of pieces were prepared and there were usually 20 to 30 players present, so you really were playing for an audience. Scary stuff! Afterwards we’d all end up in the cafeteria on the second floor, comparing gross mistakes. The camaraderie was magnificent!

WP: What are some memories of wind chamber music as a student?

ST: There was a great deal of enthusiasm for chamber music at Juilliard. I had the most fun in Albert Fuller’s Baroque class, and the occasional wind octet. We also read tons of chamber music at night, either at school or at someone’s apartment.

WP: What are some of your interests apart from playing chamber music?

ST: Boats—I’m fascinated with buoyancy.

We welcome Steve and his buoyancy to the New York Woodwind Quintet, and we welcome you all to our concert on March 26. (Free, required tickets for this event are available at the Juilliard Box Office, beginning on March 5.)

William Purvis, the New York Woodwind Quintet’s hornist since 1974, has been on the Juilliard faculty since 1989.