Yesterday morning I received the phone call that I had been dreading. One of the dearest people in my life had left us. Hans Martini was the first person who I met in the musical community in Fredericton, NB.
Hans was a fixture of the New Brunswick jazz scene. He regularly played festivals, taught, mentored, and repaired instruments. He studied saxophone at the Berklee School of Music in Boston, and joined the Royal Canadian Air Force Band in 1962. In 1970 he relocated to Oromocto’s RCR band, where he played lead alto saxophone for 21 years.
I met Hans back in ’97 shortly after I moved to New Brunswick, when I needed to get my saxophones appraised for my insurance company. As the owner of Woodshed Sound, Hans was the go to guy in Fredericton for repairs and appraisals.
I had taken a number of years off from playing, and had not kept up with the craziness of the prices of Mark VI saxophones. So when I called Hans to make arrangements to bring the horns in, I was shocked when he told me that what I had was potentially quite valuable. He was quite excited to see my saxes, and asked me to bring them over right away. That was to be the beginning of a wonderful and special friendship.
Because I was so rusty from not playing, I took a few lessons with Hans. Within a month he told me that he wasn’t going to take my money anymore, but that I was to continue coming on Thursday evenings and that we were to play duets.
That’s what I did, and in time I suggested we form a saxophone quartet with some of his advanced students. It took a bit to find the right people, but eventually the Martini Sax Quintet was founded. It was a great experience for me, and I enjoyed playing with Hans, George, Kelly, and Doug. Hans played lead alto or soprano—whichever the score called for—and I played baritone in the group.
Hans and his wife Janet became much more than friends to me. For this transplanted BC’er, these 2 were like family. Sometimes Hans and I would bicker and we’d annoy each other, but we’d always make up, and we’d always be there for each other when it counted. We socialized regularly, and spend time together over the holidays. Hans and Janet really were like family.
When I moved back to BC because of my mom’s health crisis, leaving the intricate relationships I’d built over 8 1/2 years was incredibly hard. But leaving Hans and Janet was without a doubt, among the hardest.
For the last couple of years Hans had been really struggling with his health, but because of my neurological problems, I can’t fly. The altitudes and pressures would cause all kinds of problems inside my head. Unfortunately Hans and Janet couldn’t come out to visit either, because of Hans’ declining health.
I knew things were going badly for him this year, and more than anything, I wanted to fly to Fredericton to be with my friend, but I couldn’t. So I could only speak to Janet and have her convey my get well soon messages, and love to Hans.
Hans passed away on Wednesday, October 13. Janet told me yesterday he was very brave and courageous. I wouldn’t have expected anything different from my dear friend.
Hans has left a rich and creative legacy. It’s up to those of us who he touched, to pick up the torch and play it forward, just as he did.
Thank you paul.
I just talked to his wife Janet this morning, and she and his family, as well as his best friend John, are the ones really feeling the loss the most. Talking with Janet just now it became obvious how much Hans’ last few weeks paralleled those of my mom’s. (My mom passed away last December.) Both Hans and my mom were very independent and vibrant people. And although neither of them could be physically as active because of their failing health, mentally they were very active, and cognizant until the very end.
The world lost a very caring and supportive musician with Hans’ passing. He was a great supporter of music education in general, and music students in particular. He would do instrument repairs for next to nothing if students couldn’t afford his time. He regularly lent out his things, or gave away some of the extras that he had acquired over the years, to students who couldn’t afford to buy what they needed. Yes, Hans was a friend to many a student over the years.
Hans and I talked at length about his philosophy on teaching and performing many times over the years—philosophies that I happen to share—which is in part why he and I got along as well as we did. These philosophies still guide the way I work with my students today, and why I have so many empty slots in my mouthpiece cabinet.
Helen,
Sorry to hear of your loss.
It’s difficult enough to miss a mentor, a partner or a friend; I can’t imagine how it would be to lose all of these, and more, at once.
FWIW, the way you speak of Hans makes me a bit envious of you, since you got to know him while he was here and I didn’t.
Peace,
paul
Pingback: Hans Martini » Blog Archive » Sad News