Raya Garbousova Guest Book

For twenty-five years I played first horn in the horn section of DeKalb's summer municipal band concerts at Hopkins Park. Our section played pretty well within the band but had no opportunity to play as soloists until I ran across a band arrangement of the first movement of Schumann's Konzertstucke for Four Horns. Sue Huhta, Brenda Gerrard, Kelly McCool and I spent several weeks learning our parts and then scheduled it for a performance with the band. But right before the concert who should show up but Raya and her husband Kurt, which shook us all up, to say the least. Our nervous performance went VERY badly, and afterwards she came up and said, 'Dear boy (she always called me that) --- please NEVER play that piece in public again!) I observed her wish, although I had already come to that conclusion myself!

My first year at NIU, 1966-67, Gunther Schuller was the invited guest composer for the spring Contemporary Music Festival. Despite the time of year, DeKalb had one of its frequent but always unexpected winter storms, a bad one with several inches of snow accumulating. I had known Gunther for many years by that time through his appearances on the U of IL campus, our common background as French hornists, and his interest in the Partch Ensemble, of which I was a member, so I was "elected" to take him to the airport after the festival and after a goodbye dinner that Raya and Kurt Biss invited him to. I arrived at their home close to the time I was to take him to the airport but they were regaling each other with such unbelievable stories, including several about Paul Robeson, Igor Stravinsky, Vladimir Nabakov and other composers and authors that Raya had known intimately, that before I realized it I had been there nearly an hour, leaving barely enough time to get to the airport, and with the snow falling faster and thicker. When I finally managed to get Gunther away from them I drove back to Midway Airport as fast as conditions would allow, despite my headlights all but completely dimmed by the adhering snow, and with the constant thought that this was probably the only year I would be employed at NIU if we missed the plane. Gunther, who didn't know how to drive, sat calmly in the passenger seat, with his hands folded and whistling softly. When I got him to the airport the plane supposedly had already left, but after he disembarked and ran into the building he came back and gave me the high sign; the plane had been grounded for nearly an hour before it could leave. Whew! This may be more of a story about Gunther than Raya, but several times I had the opportunity to tell her that she should tell less interesting stories in the future.