Obituaries and Tributes. - Free Online Library (2024)

Note: Biographies of the Honorary Members and Punto Award recipients appear on the IHS website.

Hermann Baumann (1934-2023)

"Baumann is an excellent musician, both as a soloist and as a collaborator in chamber works. The hallmarks of his playing are singing tone--he can sound operatic!--and the smoothness and evenness of his tone production, even on 'authentic' instruments." He pioneered the playing of early baroque and classical hand horns in performance, and his recovery from a serious stroke was astonishing and inspiring.

Hermann Rudolph Konrad Baumann was born in Hamburg, Germany. He started his musical career as a singer and jazz drummer, switching to horn at age 17. He studied horn with Fritz Huth, then played with various orchestras for 12 years.

After winning the ARD International Music Competition in Munich in 1964, Baumann accepted a professorship at the Folkwang University of the Arts (Folkwang Universitat der Kunste) in Essen, Germany and pursued a career as a horn soloist. Solo engagements, recitals, world touring, and recordings all followed, and he became known and admired throughout the world. Baumann's recordings on both modern and natural horn (including the corno da caccia) received rave reviews.

Baumann's fascination with the natural horn began at the Munich competition, when an audience member, Willi Aebi, a farm-machinery manufacturer from Switzerland, complained after his performance that Baumann didn't know the natural horn, but Aebi then invited Baumann to play his collection of natural horns and also presented him with an alphorn.

Baumann commissioned works from such composers as Jean-Luc Darbellay, Bernhard Krol, and Hans-Georg Pfluger. He played the first performance of Ligeti's Trio for Horn, Violin, and Piano in 1982 to acclaim from the composer. And he has composed his own works, notably the Elegia for hand horn.

In 1999, the Historic Brass Society honored Baumann in Paris with the Christopher Monk Award for his outstanding lifelong contribution to music on period instruments. He had been known to play other natural horns--some not often found on the concert stage--such as the South African Kelphorn, the posthorn, and the Danish Lur.

Baumann became an IHS Honorary Member in 1992, and the August 1998 issue of The Horn Call was devoted to him. In this issue, Baumann recounts his experience with a stroke, and his difficult recovery. He started teaching again just five months after the stroke, and in two years was soloist and conductor at a gala concert. An interview from 2020 in English, French, and Portuguese is available at questionsaunchampion.blog4ever.com/articles.

A fantastic horn player left this world, and went to Valhalla, the place reserved for extraordinary horn warriors. I remember the first time I met him in Nove Straseci, Czech Republic. As a young horn player, I was nervous to dare to play the Weber Concertino in a lesson with him. I arrived a few days early and Mr. Baumann was already there. He looked sad, but as more and more horn players arrived, his personality changed completely--he really was alive to play the horn! His hotel room was right across from mine, he was always practicing, either with a mute, or singing. After a recital where he performed the Gliere Concerto, I asked him how he could keep playing with so much energy after all he suffered. I was expecting something mystical like drinking a magic tea from a plant growing in Tibet ... however his answer was, "Just practice two or three hours a day!" RIP Mr. Baumann.--Ricardo Matosinhos

With great sadness I write upon the passing of Hermann Baumann. To listen to Hermann was not just to hear a remarkable horn player. He had mastered the instrument and could perform all the repertoire from memory, but what made him unique was his unmistakable style: his vocal vibrato, range of expression, and personality shone through all his music making. He could have played any instrument, and it would have had the same effect because what you heard was his unabashed voice and heart. He just happened to choose the horn and we are lucky that he did! The impact of his artistry is on a scale that is hard to contemplate, rarely achieved by any horn player or any instrumentalist for that matter.

I first met Hermann at Kendall Betts Horn Camp in 2002, the first year he was the camp solo coach, replacing Barry Tuckwell. Hermann inspired campers for eight years. His legacy of teaching at KBHC and the impact he had on all the campers during that time is hard to put in words. Kendall always referred to him as the greatest musician to have ever played the horn.

Hermann invited me to study with him in Europe, one of my greatest honors. I was already set to begin a master's degree at the University of Wisconsin-Madison with Douglas Hill. A fellowship from UW-Madison would be providing me funds to travel abroad each year, so the timing was perfect!

I studied with Hermann for a week at his house in Essen, Germany, in 2003. My daily routine included meals at his house, warmup and lessons in the morning, afternoon, and on some days into the night, jaunts in the wilderness or sightseeing. It was intense! Hermann's energy and excitement about music never ceased. We even traveled one day to Mainz on the train, where he helped me pick out an Alexander 103. He encouraged me to play with my heart, and sing through the horn the way I sing with my voice. I returned home having been thoroughly inspired.

One story to me encapsulates the true spirit of Hermann. When he had his life-altering stroke in 1993, he was in Buffalo, New York and had been performing Richard Strauss's Second Horn Concerto with the Buffalo Philharmonic. He returned to his hotel and collapsed in his room. They did not find him until the next morning. He had been on the floor for eight or so hours and the stroke had damaged him considerably. Half his body was paralyzed and he could speak only English, no longer having access to his native German.

Prior to the stroke he was able to fluently speak six languages. It took him ten years to recover to the point where had enough control of his body to get along with daily activities, relearn German, travel, and finally play his horn once again. Hermann's wife, who helped him with every aspect of his career and life, was his primary caretaker. She sadly passed away from cancer during this decade of recovery, adding unimaginable sadness and challenge to this trying time. Hermann persevered nonetheless and when he finally could start practicing horn again, he had to retrain himself completely. He added one note per week until he regained control of his sound and range. Then he began to build his facility, endurance, and overall skillset to the point where he could begin to play repertoire again.

When I met Hermann in 2002, he had just finished this decade of recovery. He played Mozart's Horn Concerto No. 1 from memory at KBHC. Even though his sound was clearly affected by the stroke, he played flawlessly, and his musicality was the same Hermann we all knew and loved, singing and expressive. His life was a resounding example of what the human spirit can achieve. Hermann not only recovered his vitality, but also his instrumental ability to the greatest extent he could. He did not give up! Even when I visited him many years later, when I would approach the door to his house, he was always practicing!

I am so grateful to have had Hermann in my life. For a person of his artistic stature in the world, he was also a wonderful human being. He treated others with kindness, loved his family, showed great empathy, and was concerned for the well-being of others. He also showed incredible musical curiosity, always challenging himself and growing as an artist, pushing himself out of his comfort zone to achieve new things. Much of our greatest modern repertoire was written for him, plus he was one of the primary artists to bring back the natural horn into the modern era.

We have lost one of the greatest musicians the world has ever known. I really miss him. I owe him so much and will always keep my memories of him close to my heart. His recordings, teaching legacy, and the memories of those of us who knew him will live on forever.--Bernhard Scully

During my time studying with Vitaly Boujanovsky in Leningrad in the late 60s, Karl Richter and his Bach choir and orchestra came to town to perform the Mass in B Minor. My teacher and I were attending the concert, noticing that there were five chairs in the front, for the solo singers, we thought. When they entered, a horn player came along as well, placing himself in the fifth soloist's chair. We were puzzled. It turned out that this was Hermann Baumann, whom we did not know at the time. He patiently waited for his turn. Then he stood up, just like the bass singer, and performed the "Quoniam" on his descant horn in a beautifully singing style, with lots of soloistic flare. Boujanovsky was completely surprised and impressed. His earlier experience in hearing horn players from the West was more of an "instrumental" kind of playing, not his preferred "human" way. We met briefly with Baumann during the break, then he hurried back to the stage and joined the choir.

Later I was able to help Baumann getting the orchestra score and parts for Villanelle, Boujanovsky's orchestration, as well as Boujanovsky's cadenza to the Gliere concerto. Baumann used that as a base for what later became known as the "Baumann cadenza."

Years later Boujanovsky was asked by Baumann to compose a piece for natural horn solo as a set piece in a competition for natural horn players. Boujanovsky was happy to be asked and was inspired to write the Ballade for natural horn. Unfortunately, the Ballade did not get used in the actual competition, but nevertheless, it got published. In 1973 Boujanovsky composed a Sonata for solo horn, dedicated to Hermann Baumann. I am not sure if he ever performed it. However, he was present when I performed it at the IHS workshop in Magog, Canada in 1975.

Baumann visited Norway a number of times, as a soloist with orchestras, and also giving masterclasses. Always a great inspiration! His style of performing was lyrical, singing, and sparkling. His many recordings helped broaden the general knowledge of interesting repertoire, whether it was old, or newly composed, often commissioned and/or dedicated to him. Big thanks and kudos for a magnificent, inspirational, and groundbreaking career.

--Froydis Ree Wekre

The queue leading backstage at Carnegie Hall was daunting. Nevertheless, I held my place as I prepared to meet Hermann Baumann. He had just performed a concerto with the Philadelphia Chamber Orchestra. Two months prior, I had received a letter from his wife, Hella, requesting that I introduce myself to Hermann after the concert. Finally I stepped up to shake his hand and greet him in my best academic German. Herr Baumann handed me a piece of paper and told me to come to his hotel the following morning.

The next day, we spoke about me going to Germany to study with him. I played the Weber Concertino as he circled around me, observing my embouchure, hand position, and fingerings. He accepted me into his class. This was in 1982, and Baumann was enjoying the pinnacle of his success as a concert soloist.

It was not only the standard concertos that he performed, but lesser-known works by composers such as Othmar Schoeck, Paul Hindemith, Julius Weissman, Goedicke, and Pokorny. He also commissioned a concerto by Georg Pfuger and premiered the Ligeti Horn Trio. He was professor at the Staatliche Hochschule fur Musik for only two years, otherwise teaching at the Folkwang Hochschule fur Musik in Essen and was in Stuttgart, where I lived, only about once a month.

My intense lessons sometimes lasted two hours and he would assign me three or four new concertos to learn and play for him at his next visit. It was exactly what I wanted to do! On occasion, Baumann would play a passage or two from one of the concertos, and there was his famous lyrical, singing horn sound executed with impeccable taste. I was hyper-inspired to spend the next three weeks in the practice room, trying to imitate his artistry.

He also prepared me for the real world. Once, after attempting the opening of Strauss Second Concerto with a few false starts, Herr Baumann stopped me and said, "What are you doing?" I answered, "Strauss second...." He looked aghast at me and said, "Do you think I could get away with that?" Another incident: I was testing a few new horns with him, and I played the first part of Strauss one. Baumann looked at the others in the room and said with a twinkle in his eye, "I see Mr. Turner has properly thought out his interpretation. It's totally different every time." Big lessons that I never forgot.

Every musician endures difficult stages in their careers, tough times when one simply cannot find the inspiration to jump start their playing. At these times, I would listen to Hermann Baumann's recordings of, for example, the Bach B minor Mass or the Rosetti g minor Concerto, and that is how I want to play!

To this day, people talk about Horowitz's magic touch on the piano, the heart wrenching phrases of Maria Callas, or the Baroque brilliance of Maurice Andre. Hermann Baumann belongs to that class of legendary artists.

--Kerry Turner

Sometimes I think I am the luckiest person in the world, and perhaps my greatest stroke of luck was being able to study with one of the greatest horn players of our time, Hermann Baumann.

I met Hermann in 1975 at the Claremont Music Festival in California. He accepted me into his class at the Folkwang Hochschule fur Musik in Essen, West Germany. Upon arriving, the Baumanns' warmth and generosity helped me to recover from culture shock and allowed me to thrive in my new environment. Hermann was formal but personable, with a disarming boyish sense of humor and enthusiasm. His wife, Hella, was the grown-up in the room, the mother of the horn class.

Hermann was a different kind of horn player than what I was used to, with regards to equipment, style, sound, and repertoire. He stood on stage with his trademark boxer's stance (actually inspired by observing the agility and energy of professional boxers) using a tasteful amount of vibrato and fearlessly going out on a limb to achieve thrilling, highly individualistic performances. He used to say that he had learned more about making music by listening to great singers than anything he had experienced during his few years of formal music school.

I was relieved to find similarities between Hermann's technique and what I had learned from my teachers in Los Angeles, regarding embouchure, articulations, airflow, and support. He was a fan of Vincent DeRosa's playing, and the feeling was mutual. Hermann had rather thin lips and his embouchure was a study in efficiency and strength through relaxation. He was constantly calling out to us students, "Locker! Tief atmen! Singen!" ("Relax! Breathe deep! Sing!") He demonstrated often in our lessons, which were masterclass-style. As a teacher he emphasized a relaxed embouchure, clear articulations, and a tapered formation of each note. Above all everything had to be musical. Every single note, scale, and arpeggio exercise had to be performance-quality music. He didn't encourage mouthpiece buzzing or air attacks, and he wasn't interested in hearing us play etudes. We worked on basic technique along with orchestral, ensemble, and solo repertoire. Our curriculum was focused on preparing for auditions and competitions.

Every week that Hermann was in town was an adventure for his students. If he had a concert nearby, he would come to the school late afternoon unannounced and see who wanted to come along to listen. I heard him play concertos by Haydn, Mozart, Telemann, Strauss, and an unforgettable Britten Serenade in Bochum. Hermann travelled abroad quite often. I recall his enthusiasm after returning once from a trip to Iceland. He had so many stories to tell about this fascinating country in the far North. I was intrigued. A couple years later Hermann recommended me to play with the Iceland Symphony Orchestra on their European tour. As fate would have it, this three-week gig was to turn into a career spanning many decades!

After I moved to Reykjavik, I kept in touch with Hermann as much as I could, meeting him at horn workshops and visiting him at his home. Hermann visited Iceland as well. A life like his in the fast lane is bound to have its hazards and setbacks. Like the car accident he had when he was a teenager that left him with a fixed upper front bridge (he shrugged it off, saying this just enabled him to use a bit more pressure) or when he broke his left arm in a skiing accident just weeks before playing Strauss's second in Vienna. (Against doctor's orders he picked away at the cast to free his fingers and performed as scheduled.) Or after that other fateful Strauss performance in 1993, when a cruel twist of fate cut him down in his prime, leaving him to struggle through the last decades of his life.

When I think back on the half century of knowing Hermann Baumann, I will always remember him as that young, dashing fortyish virtuoso at the peak of his career walking onto the stage at Little Bridges Hall in 1975, energetic and heroic beyond anything any of us had ever seen or heard. What an honor and privilege it has been to call this great man my teacher, mentor, and friend.--Joseph Ognibene

[Editor's Note: Ab Koster received a letter from Hermann Baumann in German, written in December 2020, that included a lengthy memoir entitled "Hermann Baumann Remembers." The full text is online at hornsociety.org/publications/ horn-call/extras. The following is an excerpt from the memoir.]

The DEUTSCHE WELLE Koln (German Wave Cologne) produced a program with me that was broadcast all over the world.

The starting signal for a world career

When the German hornist Hermann Baumann intoned the first bars of Mozart's Concerto for Horn and Orchestra, the music world had made a sensational discovery. Baumann not only deservedly won first prize in his discipline, but was also the actual winner of this competition, because apart from him, none of the candidates competing could qualify for this award.

The conductor and the orchestra on this memorable evening, Dean Dixon and the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, were just as surprised by Baumann's extraordinary sound, virtuosity, and creative power as the audience, who had hardly suspected that a horn player would be capable of making his wind instrument sound, even sing, in such a flawless way.

Die DEUTSCHE WELLE Koln machte eine Sendung mit mir (ausgestrahlt in der ganzen Welt).

Der Startschuss zur Weltkarriere

Als der deutsche Hornist Hermann Baumann die ersten Takte aus Mozarts Konzert fur Horn und Orchester intonierte, war die Musikwelt um eine sensationelle Entdeckung reicher geworden. Baumann hatte nicht nur Hoch verdient den ersten Preis in seiner Disziplin gewonnen, sondern war gleichzeitig auch der eigentliche Sieger dieses Wettbewerbs, denn auSer ihm konnte sich keiner der angetretenen Kandidaten fur diese Auszeichnung qualifizieren.

DerDir igent und das Orchester an diesem denkwurdigen Abend, Dean Dixon und das Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks, warenebenso uberrascht von der auSergewohnlichen Klangkultur, Virtuositat, und Gestaltungskraft Baumanns, wie das Publikum, das kaum geahnt hatte, dass ein Hornist in der Lage sein wurde, sein Blasinstrument in so makelloser Weise zum Klingen, ja Singen zu bringen.

In my eyes Hermann Baumann showed the most impressive stage appearance of all horn soloists. Today we have splendid horn soloists as well, technically even better, but I don't see personalities on stage like Baumann. This perfect stage presence made him--aside from his superb playing--interesting for concert agencies and an international soloist.

I heard him for the first time on April 30, 1976, in Munich with the Munich Radio Orchestra, conducted by Heinz Wallberg, with the Britten Serenade. I can still hear and see the performance: Baumann's appearance was trained in every tiny movement of his body, like an actor. He created an atmosphere of a different world when picking up his natural horn for the Prologue. I could feel how the audience was electrified when they heard the 11th harmonic, and I remember so well Baumann's concentration to get the 14th harmonic and not the 13th for the written A.

At the end of the perfectly performed Prologue, he put aside the natural horn and calmly took up his Alexander 107 double descant, and with a half-second left before his entrance set his lips on the horn. It was not only the performance of a first-class soloist, but also that of an actor. I don't remember any missed notes, which is confirmed by the live recording; this was despite his taking risks and not playing for security. It was one of his star evenings. The tenor John van Kesteren did a perfect job as well, but was in the shadow of Baumann.

In his childhood, Baumann sang opera melodies accompanied by his mother, who was a pianist, so he learned to not be nervous on stage. Justin Sharp, a student of Baumann, once asked him: "Have you ever been nervous?" "No, except once, when I was driving by car to the Munich ARD Competition 1964. But when I was on stage in Munich it was gone." Baumann performed Mozart's Concerto No. 3 on an Alexander B-flat/f-alto horn, playing every note except the lowest note of the piece, the concert B-flat towards the end of the first movement, on the f-alto side.

From then on, the descant horn was not allowed at the ARD competition. My opinion is that one should listen only to the result, and not look at which kind of horn is used. Of course, there is the danger that a player gets dependent on the shorter horn, but Baumann did not, performing also on double horns and on long natural horns.

When I started my own horn production in Tiefenried in 1990, Baumann bought a B-flat/f-alto horn which he used for many performances in the "Mozart year" 1991 (200th anniversary of Mozart's death). He bought all the horns from me. He got a good price, but he did not expect to get free horns. In 2014 we met in Mindelzell for the recording of the Mozart Concertos in my Mindelsaal, with Javier Bonet as the soloist, and Baumann conducting. He told me: "This B-flat/f-alto horn will be the last horn which I one day will sell!" In 2015 we overhauled this horn and fulfilled his request to engrave his name on the bell.

Baumann also asked me to engrave his name on his Kruspe Wendler Model, which he liked to use for recordings. "It's very good for the microphone, it's round by itself!" Baumann did not influence the marketing of a particular brand of horn; he switched horns so often that nobody could identify him with a specific brand. I had the impression that using another horn inspired him to fit better to a certain repertoire and challenged him. No matter which brand and model he had in his hands, the impression on the audience was always stunning. Phil Farkas expressed this in 1980 at the European Horn Symposium in Trossingen: "Hermann has the ability to play a passage in a way that everybody would think 'Nobody ever can play it this way!'" I remember hearing Baumann perform the Mozart Rondo on the hand horn in Herkules Saal in Munich. I could not believe how clear, inspiring, and perfect the opening phrase was.

After Baumann suffered the stroke in 1993, I wrote a letter during a flight to the IHS symposium to encourage him and mentioned that my mother had suffered a stroke as well, but was taken to the hospital early, and eventually recovered fully through therapy, by her firm will and exercises. When I went to Essen that fall for a comeback concert called "Cornissimo," where Baumann performed for the first time again in front of a bigger audience, I had a conversation with Hella Baumann behind the stage after the performance. She knew what I had written to her husband and told me that this letter moved and motivated him. "I know the special feeling when flying. Such a letter can only be written in such an atmosphere." It was true, I had written a positive and encouraging letter, in the hope that Baumann would be able to recover like my mother did! She said with wet eyes, "I cannot anymore! Again concert tours, I feel tired."

For three decades she had done most of the work to organize her husband's concert tours. Of course, she heard like me, that the stroke--due to the late medical help had perhaps destroyed too much for him to recover fully. Nobody could say it to Baumann, that giving concerts again might not be the right idea. But the stage was his life.

The recovery of Jose Carreras from leukemia was a big motivation for Baumann. Being on stage gave him the sense of life. Certainly, for people with no understanding of Baumann's psyche, he damaged his reputation by giving concerts again. But I appreciate the wisdom of the international horn community, which did not forget Baumann's former qualities. He could not destroy his legacy. The numerous recordings and the reports of live concert listeners survive. After the death of Hella Baumann in 1997, Hermann called me and said: "Hella has died. She did not want any more."

Hermann and I stayed in regular contact. We could see as he conducted in 1991 that he did not possess his full mental power, but he could conduct, and he could still motivate students when teaching. The video when he sings the solo in Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony gives a good idea how the solo should be played. We all should keep in mind that in Hermann Baumann the music world had a talent which appears maybe once in a century. We all should and will keep his memory in greatest admiration and respect.--Engelbert Schmid

Hermann Baumann, The Strongest Man I Have Ever Known

Hermann Baumann was one of the three heroes of the horn world in the 20th century, along with Dennis Brain and Barry Tuckwell. Baumann was the strongest man I have ever known.

I was in the last official horn class under Baumann at the Folkwang Hochschule, now the Folkwang University of the Arts, in Essen-Werden, Germany. My classmates and I were there when Baumann had his stroke. Among us were: Sacha Hermann and Tilman Scharf (Deutschland), Svanhvit Frioriksdottir (Iceland), and Gent Lasri (Albania). He taught us before his stroke, and we experienced him as a person and player after his stroke. We witnessed his strength when he was in his prime, and we witnessed his strength, his pure will to perform again on the stage, after his stroke. It was difficult but inspiring. We did concert after concert with him performing the Hubertus Messe. Every time, we learned. It was amazing!

Here are some observations and confessions he confided to me:

* He always flew economy class to save money for his children.

* It wasn't until 2014 that he wrote out his cadenzas; before then, he had them memorized but never put to paper.

* Immediately upon awakening mornings, he would exercise for 45 minutes. After his stroke, his discipline was to keep the right-hand side of his body flexible. Well into his late 80s, if you did not know he had had a major stroke, you would not have noticed it.

* The paralysis of the right-hand side of his body included his tongue and lips! After his stroke, when he came back to play concerts, the left side of his lips were guiding the right side.

* Baumann considered himself to be a singer first; then a horn player. He sang every day.

In the last two years of his life, Baumann felt alone. Not many people visited him, including me. The true hero during this time was his oldest son, Andreas, who took care of him. Andreas was there at the end, holding Hermann's hand in the hospital. He made it possible for Hermann to live in his home almost until the end. It was hard for Andreas, but he stayed focused on what was important, and he did it with conviction.

Hermann Baumann was a complex being. Years after studying with him, when we began to work together on his website, I got to know him better. He was unique! He was complex, and in his own way and style, brilliant! At the same time, he was human; he made mistakes. He could be frustrating and stubborn, but he was a kind man.

We have been fortunate to have had Baumann on this planet with us. He was a brilliant star. He gave every one of us a little something of himself: his sound, his phrasing, and his song. With horn to our lips whether on stage or in the countryside, we should always remember to play a little song, sung from our hearts, to him who gave us so much: the master singer, Hermann Rudolf Konrad Baumann.

--Justin Sharp

[Editor's Note: Justin Sharp has provided a discography and list of Baumann's students, not including those who studied with him privately. Both documents are available online at hornsociety.org/publications/horn-call/extras.]

The emotion, energy, passion, and seriousness Hermann Baumann put into everything he did was contagious, inspiring, and mesmerizing. When I started my horn studies, I had the opportunity to hear about him, but it was my first Hermann Baumann CD, "La Chasse de Saint Hubert," that changed my perspective. It created a vision that has guided my entire musical journey. His recordings were an inspiration and motivation to work and evolve, with the aim of one day studying with him.

Even before I met Hermann Baumann, I identified with his way of playing, interpreting, and singing on the instrument. It was unique, with a singular sound, exemplary technique, remarkable tuning, charming phrasing, and a bold vibrato. He didn't fit into the traditional labels. He was one of the few who touched the sky, as a distinguished musician. Here the instrument is secondary ... fortunately for all of us, he chose the horn. Having achieved immortality as a horn player is his greatest legacy. Normally, only great pianists or violinists have or have had access to this status. Hermann Baumann, Dennis Brain, and Barry Tuckwell achieved it playing the horn.

In 1997, Hermann Baumann performed in Lisbon as a soloist with the Portuguese Symphony Orchestra. It was the opportunity I had been waiting for to hear him live. His presence and power on stage were stellar. However, his performance did not correspond exactly to what I had heard in recordings. I didn't make a big deal out of it, and I was grateful to be able to hear him and meet him in person after the concert. He was extremely affable; a gentleman. He told me what had happened to him in 1993 in Baltimore, his stroke, and everything he experienced. At that time, without access to the internet, this news did not reach me. It was clear that his willpower and energy were unshakable, he was not going to give up on continuing to do what was his passion.

After a few months, I had the opportunity to participate in a masterclass with him in the Czech Republic. It was fascinating to see his improvements both physically and in his performance. Upon realizing that I had been to his concert in Lisbon and, knowing that the concert had been broadcast live on Portuguese national radio, he asked me for the recording, so he could listen. He wanted to hear how it sounded and what could be improved! This was Baumann's mentality. At 60 years old, having experienced a sublime career, he was looking to recover his health, his form, and his career as a soloist and teacher, always with joy and good disposition. His humility, perseverance, discipline, and willpower were and are an inspiration and example for everyone.

I expressed my desire to go to Germany to study with him, but he informed me that he would retire from the Folkwang Universitat der Kunste in Essen. However, he recommended that I study with one of his pupils and former students, and he helped me with the process. I followed my path, working with some of his former students, like Ab Koster and Javier Bonet and taking advantage of opportunities to play for Baumann in masterclasses and private lessons.

We stayed in contact, including several reunions at various IHS Symposia. In 2010, I organized the 1st Portuguese Horn Festival in Portugal. It was an opportunity to bring together my two biggest inspirations and mentors, Hermann Baumann and Ab Koster. It was a memorable experience for everyone involved. For an entire generation of horn players from Portugal, it was an opportunity to see, hear, and learn from these legends of our instrument and music in general. It was, without a doubt, one of the most rewarding moments of my life.

Every Christmas, I received a package from Baumann with a postcard, newspaper clippings from his concerts, and recordings, many of which were impossible to find commercially. At Christmas 2023 this package did not arrive, and after a few weeks, I realized why....

Hermann Baumann's legacy is immeasurable. He performed and recorded a repertory that was not properly valued; he worked with composers to create new compositions; he understood that we had to find the right instrument for each work; he took the hunting horn and the natural horn to the stage, and for records; he used several horn brands; he thought in terms of the music! Whether as an artist, horn player, teacher, or simply for his life story, he will always be an inspiration, a force of nature, an example of overcoming, and an example of someone who lived above the labeling of society. Forever grateful to you, dear Professor Baumann!--J. Bernardo Silva

John Merrill (Jack) Covert (1937-2024)

Jack Covert is best known for his years teaching at Ithaca College, New York State (1966-1996), where he received the Dana Professor Distinguished Teaching Award. Many of his students have played professionally and/or taught at music conservatories, including Gail Williams, Jon Menkis, and Richard Graef. Jack had previously taught at the University of Memphis and in elementary schools in Livonia, New York.

Jack's music education was at the Eastman School of Music, where he earned BME and MME degrees and a Performer's Certificate and studied with Fred Bradley, Milan Yancich, and Verne Reynolds.

Orchestral playing includes the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra, the Memphis Symphony, the Cayuga Chamber Orchestra, the Northeastern Pennsylvania Orchestra and the Natal Philharmonic Orchestra in Durbin, South Africa. He also played in the Ithaca Woodwind Quintet and Ithaca Brass Quintet.

Yamaha Brass sent Jack to South Africa in 1974 to work with indigenous bands and at universities. He returned to South Africa and Namibia in 1982 to give concerts and masterclasses and consult on university curriculums. After his retirement, he continued to teach and play.

Jack received the Punto Award at the 2013 IHS Symposium in Memphis, Tennessee.

Most musicians will remember Zoom as one of the more annoying necessary byproducts of a three-year pandemic. For alumni of the horn studio of Jack Covert at Ithaca College, on the other hand, Zoom was also a boon: a way for us to stay in contact with each other over the long period of isolation and to give love, support, and respect to our beloved teacher in the last years of his life.

Jack is known especially for his three decades of teaching at Ithaca College alongside his wife Mary Ann, herself a formidable professor of piano and unofficial horn studio "mom." Many of Jack's former students have played professionally in orchestras around the US, including the Chicago Symphony, Philadelphia Orchestra, and Boston Symphony, as well as orchestras in Europe and South Africa. Others have had distinguished careers in US military bands and become educators, teaching at Northwestern University and Eastman, and in public schools and music programs around the country.

What you won't find in official biographies are facts like these: Jack once played with Judy Garland. He played in the house orchestra the first time the Beatles appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show. In Ithaca, he was friends with Rod Serling (of The Twilight Zone), and with Ron Carter, bass player for Miles Davis. Chuck Mangione was also a good friend, and he wrote a song for Jack's brass quintet.

Jack as a person was steadfast, with an unperturbable nature and quietly cutting sense of humor. He was fascinated with geology and paleontology. Covert students are given respect in the horn community. Most importantly, and most essential to Jack's humanity, his students had a depth of love for him. For most of us, that deep connection extended far beyond our student years. When I won my job here in Rochester, for example, Jack sent me a box of books about the city and the history of the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra, in which he played a part. It was an example of his continuing dedication to his students long after we left his immediate influence.

Each of us has a cherished story about something that happened in a lesson, or on a gig with Jack. Most of these stories revolve around one of his singularly dry comments, or of being on the receiving end of one of his infamous steely-eyed looks from penetrating blue eyes over the top of his half glasses. Many of us regularly use not only his teaching methods, but also his mix of no-nonsense directness tempered with humor in our own teaching. We often spent our Zoom meetings over the past two years sharing back our stories with Jack, and it was a source of joy for all of us to see the light in his eyes, and to be able to return just a bit of what he gave us.

Mary Ann predeceased Jack in 2018. His former students are planning a memorial gathering at Ithaca College over the 2024 Labor Day weekend. Details will be forthcoming, and we hope many of you from the horn community can join us to honor Jack's memory and legacy.

For musicians, our primary teacher is often the greatest influence in our life path outside of family. We don't just learn our craft from our teachers; we hone our moral compass, learn how to push past our perceived limitations, how to be good colleagues and teachers in our own right, and--most importantly--how to be good humans. It is with loving gratitude that all of Jack's students from Ithaca College bid farewell to our teacher. Jack, we are your living legacy. We hope to continue to make you proud through our accomplishments, as well as those of our own students.--Stephen Laifer

Willie Ruff (1931-2023)

Willie Ruff has been one of the pioneers of the horn in jazz, as a duo performed at thousands of schools and colleges, and was an international ambassador of music, from Africa to Russia and China.

Willie was born in the Muscle Shoals area of Alabama, famous for freshwater mussels, W.C. Handy, Helen Keller, and music recording studios. The schools were segregated, and Willie attended a poor school for Black students. He started singing as a child and learned drumming from a neighbor and piano at church. He also learned to play the "hambone"--using hands against parts of the body, a technique developed by enslaved people when their traditional drums where outlawed.

In 1946, at age 14, Willie lied about his age, forged his father's signature, and joined the Army on the expectation of developing a career as a drummer. When the band had too many percussionists, Willie volunteered to learn to play the horn. When playing in the band at segregated Lockbourne Air Force Base near Columbus, Ohio, he took lessons from Abe Kniaz of the Columbus Philharmonic Orchestra. It was while stationed at Lockbourne that Willie met his future duo partner, pianist Dwike Mitchell. Willie learned to play bass at Dwike's urging.

Willie attended Yale University for undergraduate and graduate degrees. After receiving his master's degree, he connected with his friend Dwike Mitchell in the Lionel Hampton band. In 1955, the two friends formed the Mitchell-Ruff Duo, with Willie on horn and bass. The Duo recorded, performed, and lectured on jazz extensively in the United States, Asia, Africa, and Europe. In the late 1950s they toured widely for Young Audiences, in elementary schools, high schools, and colleges. It was the Mitchell-Ruff Duo that introduced jazz to the Soviet Union in 1959 and to China in 1981.

Willie was on the faculty at Yale from 1971 to 2017. He was founding Director of the Duke Ellington Fellowship Program. Willie's 1992 memoir, A Call to Assembly, was awarded the Deems Taylor ASCAP award. He also wrote on Paul Hindemith and on his association with Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn. He visited the pygmies of the Central African Republic, the master drummers of Bali, and the tribesmen of Senegal.

Willie was elected an IHS Honorary Member in 2001. In 2005 he and Dwike performed at the Northeast Horn Workshop in Purchase, New York with Ruff's former teacher, Abe Kniaz, in the audience.

Willie's teaching was based on storytelling through melodies. He was committed to nurturing talent and celebrating musical diversity. Beyond the accolades and achievements, Willie was a friend to many. His warmth, humility, and support touched the lives of those he encountered. His passing leaves a void in the musical realm.

Willie Ruff was one of the most likable and uniquely accomplished individuals I have been fortunate to have known. His educational and inspirational contributions in so many facets of musical improvisation, arts education, as well as jazz performance are well documented.

Since learning to play jazz bass and popular tunes on the horn in junior high school, I became aware of this remarkable jazz bassist who also played horn in the Mitchell/Ruff duo. I purchased their LP recordings while in high school and was impressed. So it was wonderful to discover in 1971, upon being accepted to study at Yale University, that a new professor had just been hired. Willie Ruff, having been a student at Yale in the 1950s to study with Paul Hindemith, had just returned. I was fortunate to take a course from him on the history of improvisation (not just jazz ... but yes, jazz). I eventually asked him for lessons playing jazz on the horn, but that's not what he did nor was it "how you learn jazz." He did, however, instill a much deeper awareness of what is referred to as "mojo." Listening to the ways Willie played his recorded ballads on the horn was a true demonstration of the magic, the mojo, of a voice that touched souls. Listening, deep listening was the way to learn best how to play jazz on any instrument.

He was in the truest sense a singer. When asked by William Zinsser (as quoted in his book Willie and Dwike, An American Profile, 1984), why he chose the horn, Ruff said it "was the sound of a great contralto in our Baptist church named Miss Celia Appleton. She had that rich horn-like quality to her voice. It wasn't only the beauty of the voice; it was the poetic expressiveness." His many recordings with Dwike Mitchell are wonderfully poetic when he picked up the horn, and his solo horn recording from Saint Mark's Cathedral in Venice, Italy, doing chants and hymns and spirituals is a one-of-a-kind, transcendent experience. Add to that, one of the most enjoyable, well-written autobiographies I've ever read is Willie's.

Willie Ruff was one of the outstanding Renaissance men of our time who just happened to play horn, among his many other extraordinary talents, pursuits, accomplishments, honors, and contributions. Read his book, find his recordings, and listen to some magical, musical storytelling. He shared so much of himself.--Douglas Hill

I learned about Willie Ruff many years ago, first through my interest in jazz on the horn. As I learned more about him, however, I began to wonder if there was no end to his intellect, his interests, his musical abilities, and his energy. He was a truly thoughtful and talented musician. He was an inspiration as an ambassador across cultures and musical styles, with ground-breaking musical tours and recordings that took music to unexpected places, literally and figuratively.

His books and other writings are a testimonial to his reputation as a person, confirmed by those who knew him and had him as a teacher, as well as the limited personal contact I had with him myself: a brilliant, open mind, an outstanding musician, a compassionate teacher with an active interdisciplinary interest in learning, and a positive force of will on all with whom he came in contact. All music, indeed, our world in general, benefits from people like Willie Ruff, and the horn world was blessed, directly and indirectly, by his presence--truly a role model for all.

--Jeffrey Snedeker

Willie Ruff was the first Black horn player I ever heard of other than myself. The discovery that I wasn't alone was one of the most important events in my young life. I stumbled across Strayhorn: A Mitchell-Ruff Interpretation, an album that he recorded with pianist Dwike Mitchell, while I was still in high school in the early 1970s. The "Strayhorn" in the title caught my eye first. I knew that Billy Strayhorn, who was best known as the author of many of the Duke Ellington Orchestra's most inventive songs, was one of the great composers of the 20th century. It wasn't until I read the liner notes that I realized that the handsome, bearded Black man on the LP's cover was Willie and that his horn playing was featured on the album.

The six or seven dollars that the album cost is, to this day, the best money that I've ever spent. It wasn't simply that it made me feel less lonely in a musical world that often insisted that Black people weren't suited to the horn. (Absurdly, some people believed that our lips were too thick for the horn's mouthpiece and said so to our faces.) The superb musicality of the duo also made my heart soar. They played songs that Strayhorn, a fan of the duo, had suggested would work well for the combination of piano and horn. Their interpretations, while gorgeous, also mined deep veins of emotion and musical sophistication.

Suite for the Duo, a composition that Strayhorn wrote specifically for Willie and Mitchell, was the album's centerpiece. In his autobiography, A Call to Assembly, and much later in conversations with me, Willie described how he and Mitchell worked closely with the composer as he wrote the piece. Strayhorn wanted it to fit the duo like "a custom-made suit," Willie remembered in the book.

The suite is one of the most important 20th-century works for horn and probably the most original. Strayhorn was unburdened by previous conceptions of what writing for the horn should be. He was guided by his immense creativity as a composer and by working with, and listening to, Willie. Strayhorn was dying of cancer at the time, and he knew it. The suite opens with what can easily be heard as shrieks of agony from the horn, which are followed by moments of repose. It ends quietly, yet emotionally unresolved.

The sheet music for the suite published by Hal Leonard differs substantially from the recording. The Billy Strayhorn Foundation has published a revised version that is closer to the recording, which is widely available on streaming services and as second-hand LPs and CDs and should be considered the suite's ur-text.

Strayhorn chose well when he chose to write for Willie, who was a virtuoso horn player, a fact that's sometimes overlooked. Many listeners are more attuned to hearing horn virtuosity in a performance of Strauss than in an improvisation on a jazz standard. Willie was also a Renaissance Man whose many other accomplishments sometimes eclipsed his horn playing--Yale University professor, filmmaker, impresario, memoirist, mesmerizing story-teller, and solid jazz bassist.

Most of all, people who knew him will remember the warm glow of his presence as much as his musicianship. He was one of those rare individuals whose company invariably lifts your spirits. He was in love with life and eager to share the joy that it gave him. His sense of humor was always near the surface, as was his remarkable intellect. I got to know Willie nearly fifty years after the teenaged me stumbled across the duo's Strayhorn album. I'll never forget the generosity with which he welcomed me into his life. And I'll be eternally grateful.

--John Edwin Mason

I first met Willie Ruff when I was a student at Yale. Professor Ruff was magnanimous and kind-hearted, but also guarded and witty. He usually had a smile on his face and a pleasant word for students in the hallway, but he was not a teacher who gave you his time if you didn't give him yours. If you shared an interest with him and had a respect for learning, he would remember you and take you under his wing. I was simultaneously intimidated and intrigued by him, until we found a common interest and I witnessed his genius firsthand, and then I was just in awe.

Our first of many shared interests was Celtic music. We had homework to bring in a tune that meant something to us. I transcribed a Nova Scotian Sea Shanty that a Canadian friend had sung constantly during my freshman year of college, and I played it for the class. He lit up and asked me questions about Nova Scotia and my friend, then he shared with us his research into Celtic line singing and its connection to African American spirituals.

Several years after graduation, I reconnected with him to put a student in contact about Black jazz horn players. We stayed in touch periodically, then more often when I began my own doctoral research. He was instrumental in my transforming curiosity into research without getting bogged down in questions of self. We talked about Black horn players, and he encouraged me to continue the research when I questioned whether it was my place.

As I write this tribute, I realize that, were he alive, I would be driving to the airport right now to pick him up. We had been planning his visit to Iowa since last May, and there were so many questions I wanted to ask him. We were going to work on the Strayhorn Suite and I was so excited to finally dive into it with him. He loved telling stories about his life, his friendships, and experiences over the years; we never seemed to get to the gritty details of the piece during our many phone conversations. I am so proud and lucky to have known him, and will always remember him with immense fondness, a little regret for questions unasked, and a lot of gratitude.--Katy Ambrose

A Legacy of Music and Education

The world of music has lost a true luminary with the passing of Willie Ruff, an acclaimed hornist, bassist, educator, and cultural ambassador. Ruff's remarkable contributions to the world of classical and jazz music, as well as his dedication to education, have left an indelible mark on the hearts of those who had the privilege of knowing him.

Ruff was not only an exceptional classical musician but also a groundbreaking figure in the world of jazz. His unique approach to the horn and his ability to seamlessly traverse between classical and jazz genres set him apart from his peers. His collaborations with notable jazz musicians such as Duke Ellington, Miles Davis, and Ornette Coleman showcased his versatility and willingness to push musical boundaries.

In the Lionel Hampton band, there were no specific parts for horn, so Ruff filled in where needed. "If a saxophone player quit, I played his part. If a trombone player quit, I played his part, and that would make me valuable because I could transpose all these parts." With no parts written for the horn itself, he said Hampton "didn't know what to expect.As long as it worked, I was left to invent. It was wonderful training."

Ruff's innovative spirit extended beyond his performances. With the Mitchell-Ruff Duo, he pioneered the fusion of classical and jazz genres, creating a unique and influential sound that captivated audiences around the world. Their groundbreaking work laid the foundation for future generations of musicians to explore the intersections of different musical traditions.

Beyond his achievements as a performer, Ruff was a passionate advocate for cultural exchange. He believed in the power of music to bridge gaps between people and cultures. Ruff and Mitchell made many concert tours, and not always to the usual places.

Ruff's impact as an educator was equally profound. As a professor at Yale, he inspired and mentored countless students. His commitment to nurturing young talent and instilling a love for music education has left an enduring legacy.

Willie Ruff's legacy extends far beyond the notes he played on his horn. His pioneering spirit, commitment to excellence, and dedication to education have left an indelible mark on the world of music. On a personal note, as a young hornist new to jazz, I wrote Ruff a letter after hearing one of the Duo's recordings. I received a note back encouraging me to continue exploring jazz and improvised music, but to also keep playing classical music as well as any other music that interested me. Advice that has served me well over the years.

As we remember this musical giant, let us celebrate the richness of his contributions and strive to carry forward the torch of creativity, collaboration, and cultural understanding that Willie Ruff so passionately ignited.

--Mark Thomas Taylor

A Shining Inspiration

When I was a teenager in the 1970s and interested in jazz on the horn, friends and neighbors steered me to Julius Watkins. But soon after that, I became aware of the other jazz horn pioneers as well--John Graas, David Amram, and importantly, Willie Ruff. I remember my neighbor showing me that funny Mitchell-Ruff Duo "Appearing Nightly: Is This the Place That's Out of This World?" cover. (With the Martian jazz fans!) A quick search and one can hear that great version of "Jordu" from that record, with Ruff quoting his beloved spirituals, "Wade in the Water" and "Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho."

As the years passed, my respect and admiration for Willie Ruff grew: the incredible life that he had, and his never letting obstacles (racism and poverty) slow him down; his thirst for knowledge that never ended (Ellington to Basie to Renaissance music to Hindemith to Kepler to photography to learning many new languages to fixing his sports cars); selflessly passing on his knowledge to others. He never lost his enthusiasm for sharing his gifts. His memories of Mrs. Nance's bass drum playing at the Sheffield Sanctified Church or his memories of Hindemith leading the Yale students in singing a Josquin motet? Equally important! Perhaps he was grateful to the many communities that gave so much to him, such as his Sheffield Alabama people, his segregated Ohio Black Army base music teachers, his Yale School of Music surroundings, and the jazz world in general, and just wanted to pay it forward. In any case, the world is richer for it.

Willie was kind and encouraging to me, too. When I sent him my first recording from 1981, he sent me back a postcard from a Las Vegas gig, and later, in 1995, at a concert at New York's Saint Peters Church, he signed his book A Call to Assembly for me.

One special scene from Willie's book: He was studying Russian to prepare for a Yale goodwill trip, and in the dressing room at Birdland was Count Basie, drilling Willie on his Russian phrases! Who else can say that Count Basie was their language-drill helper?

French-Canadian jazz/classical/new music clarinet improviser Francois Houle studied with Willie at Yale in the 1980s. His experience might be similar to others at Yale who worked with Professor Ruff.

 I was a student in Willie's class on careers in music at Yale in 1985. First class, he told us a bit about him, and about the class. He had a weekly guest coming in for the semester, each one having two things in common; a master's degree in music from Yale, and a career completely outside of music. We had CEOs of major corporations, such as Chrysler and Sony, computer scientists, talking to us about how a music education enabled them to think outside the box, and having a broader view of the world. Willie definitely embodied that ethos; he created an album of music based on Kepler and Copernicus's harmony of the spheres, rebuilt a 1960s Mercedes sedan from found parts, taught himself over a dozen languages in order to teach foreigners about the history of jazz and Black culture as part of his international travels. My mind was blown when he'd drive by my place on Orange Street in New Haven, roll his window down and call out in perfect French, "Bonjour cher Francois! Belle journee pour une balade en voiture!" He completely changed my optics about my life in music, by showing me how to carry myself as a human being.

Willie was an incredible horn player on Gil Evans recordings such as Gil Evans Plus 10, and with Miles Davis on Miles Ahead, with that beautiful solo on "My Ship."

So, thank you, Willie. Thank you for showing us that we can make our own way, and find our own truth in music, and for always having that thirst for more knowledge. Bless you--a job well done.--Tom Varner

Role Model, Mentor, and Friend

In the 1950s in the United States, professional opportunities for African Americans were extremely limited due to the national culture of racial segregation in the arts, sports, and many other arenas. Many African-American classical musicians left to pursue careers in Europe and South America. Few managed to break through the wall of exclusion in this country, particularly in the field of classical music. Willie Ruff was invited to play in an orchestra in Israel, but he decided to stay in the US and chose a career playing horn and bass with the Mitchell-Ruff Duo and with jazz musicians and bands.

I first met Willie in New York City in the 1970s where my friend, roommate, and fellow horn player, Jerome Ashby, arranged for me to have a lesson with his teacher, James Chambers, in Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center. When Mr. Chambers greeted me for my lesson, he was with an African-American man who had just had a lesson. Mr. Chambers gave the most glowing introduction of a horn player I had ever heard. In addition to his stellar horn playing, he talked about Willie's accomplishments in jazz, his teaching at Yale, his duo that had travelled the world, and the fact that Willie spoke eight languages! When I lived in Boston and anytime Willie was in town, we would get together for a meal and I would work on his horn in my repair shop. We would talk for hours about his fascinating career and play jazz tunes for each other and together.

Willie Ruff was my support for being the best horn player I could be. He was my inspiration, my role model, and my motivation to be a well-rounded horn player and to play many styles of music on the horn, not just classical. I took his advice and learned classical, jazz, and world music. Opportunities and possibilities are what I learned most from Willie.

Willie Ruff lifted us all to better places. He performed with prominent jazz musicians, made introductions, and always played horn at a first-class level. He demonstrated his humility, generously shared his talents and discipline, and understood our individual challenges and struggles. He loved life and it was contagious!

Maybe he was not aware of it, but because of his high standards and his first-class achievements, he opened many professional doors for other Black horn players. I can now walk into a professional engagement knowing that I stand on the shoulders of the excellence Willie Ruff personified. When Willie played, there was no sound more elegant, rich, and soul-connected. And, when he smiled and laughed, the world was a happier place!--Marshall Sealy

Caption: Hermann Baumann with natural horn, 2014. Image provided by Justin Sharp, courtesy of the Baumann Family.

Caption: Hermann Baumann and Kerry Turner in Prague.

Caption: Hermann Baumann and Joseph Ognibene in 2012.

Caption: Ab Koster and Hermann Baumann in Portugal, 2009.

Caption: Engelbert Schmid with Hermann Baumann holding his Kruspe Wendler compensating triple horn.

Caption: Hermann Baumann with horns, 2014. Image provided by Justin Sharp, courtesy of the Baumann Family.

Caption: Hermann Baumann performing in Portugal, 2010.