Shared flutes

From “Legacy in Music” Flute Talk Magazine 2005

Three flutists of wide-ranging backgrounds and experiences—and the physical gifts they left behind—made indelible imprints on the life, heart, and music of this flutist.

by Christina Jennings

I’ve been thinking about musical legacy recently. The intangible nature of a legacy is difficult to define, just as music, with its personal impact, is equally elusive. People’s legacies—whether a specific performance or recording or the composite influence of a lifetime of performances/teaching—are almost impossible to sum up. As a result, the physical objects left behind take on deeper meanings, becoming the embodiment of life’s stories and ideas.

One of my favorite television programs is PBS’s Antiques Roadshow, where people bring in family heirlooms and garage sales “finds” to be appraised. As the pieces are being evaluated, the stories behind the treasures come out, and this leads into the grand finale of assigning a market price. This is followed by squeals and shock, looks of disbelief, sometimes tears, and spontaneous exclamations. Most of these lucky folks are thrilled to learn the monetary value of their sentimental treasure; but many do not plan to sell the items, preferring to keep them in the family where another chapter will be added. In this spirit, I’d like to share the stories of three flutists.

Evelyn Hansen Hurd

When I was 13 years old, I came home to find that a complete stranger had bequeathed to me a handmade flute. It is a spectacular instrument with a brilliant, free voice. I am lucky to have it, and was fortunate to literally grow up with this sophisticated instrument.

This flute belonged to Evelyn Hansen Hurd, a resident of Hanover, New Hampshire, close to my hometown of Norwich, Vermont. Hurd, a reference librarian at Baker Library at Dartmouth College, was an active member of the Upper Valley community. Both she and her husband, John, an English professor at Dartmouth, were amateur flutists active in the thriving musical scene. Hurd attended a flute choir performance where I played the solo part to “La Primavera,” from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Shortly after this performance, Hurd, who had been ill, passed away.

The memory I have of her funeral was of a cold spring day, and of the beauty of this flute as I played the mournful “Siciliana” from the Bach E Flat Major Sonata. Along with the flute came four big boxes of music. The combined libraries of two flutists was quite a gift for a kid. The collection included many solo and technique books, but the majority was chamber music. Flute duos, trios, and quartets from the baroque through contemporary—music that holds a special spot in my own library today.

Howard Blume

Some 15 years later, I became interested in exploring flutes with a deeper, more expansive sound. Secure in the knowledge that I could never replace my first flute, I began searching for a second one. As a casual shopper, my repair person would occasionally show me flutes she had on consignment. When I came to New York in December 2003 for a concert, she handed me a flute to try.

As I played, I was struck by the deep, achingly mellow sound. The fluidity of the scale and the power of the low register also impressed me. She explained that the flute belonged to a Boston doctor who purchased it shortly after his terminal diagnoses of cancer. By the end of her story, I knew the flute had found a new guardian.

Howard Blume, MD, PhD, was chief of Neurosurgery at Beth Isreal/Deconess Hospital in Boston. Also on a clinical appointment with Harvard Medical School, he was at the top of his field, and a dedicated physician and surgeon. Blume was also an accomplished flutist, whose love of music began when he first picked up a flute as a young boy.

In 2003, Blume was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, an aggressive and rapidly progressing disease. During the last six weeks of his life, the flute became everything to him; he dropped all professional work and consumed himself in the research, purchase, and study of the flute. (His old flute was badly in need of repair, and he didn’t want to wait for an overhaul.) As wife Betty describes: “I don’t know how to say how important that flute was to him in the months of his illness. It was an expression of his continuing hope, his continuing insistence on making sense, of creating challenge for himself in the face of that terrible diagnosis.”

Martha Rearick

The legendary Martha Rearick left behind a musical legacy of significance to the flute community. Beloved as a teacher, extraordinary pianist, arranger, flutist, and composer, her extensive energies and spirit will be heartily missed.

One part of this legacy is the donation of her music library to the University of Colorado. My former teacher, Jeanne Baxtresser, was instrumental in the arranging of this gift, which is a monumental collection of flute music consisting of virtually all the major pieces for solo flute, flute and piano, as well as piccolo and alto flute. As an avid arranger and composer, Rearick’s library of flute choir music was also of significance. This part of her library was donated to Wendy Webb Kumer, who is active in promoting and conducting flute choirs in the Pittsburgh area.

The generosity of these gifts will have a broad impact, and the CU flute studio will hold a memorial recital in March with Martha’s brother, David, in attendance. Jeanne Baxtresser, who spoke often with Martha in her last weeks, recalls the true generosity of this amazing spirit: “My last conversations with Martha were just as if nothing had changed....she simply wanted to talk of how she could continue to contribute to flutists everywhere through her ongoing projects and bringing new ideas to fruition.”

The spirits of Evelyn Hurd, Howard Blume, and Martha Rearick are alive in the music that they each loved. The physical representations of that love give us objects to behold and treasure. As musicians, we build upon the legacies of the past, through both our mentors and benefactors, as we proceed forward. Guardianship of this history is ultimately important, and I feel immensely privileged to be part of these three lives.