Gary Karr
I well remember my first encounter with Gary Karr, which was at the old Victoria International Festival, at the McPherson Playhouse back in 1992, only a few months after I began writing about music.
At that time I knew exactly who he was, having been a bassist myself in my late teens (a brief and distinctly undistinguished career).
So when Dianne Pearce, doyenne of musical volunteerism in Victoria, whom I knew from the previous month's Eine Kleine Summer Music, asked if I'd like to meet him, there was only one possible answer.
I was not, however, quite prepared for her introduction: "Gary, I'd like you to meet Deryk Barker - he used to be a double bassist".
Gary's eyes lit up: "Oh", he said, "who was your teacher?"
Being far too embarrassed to tell him that my entire "study" of the instrument was thirty minutes or so spent with my girlfriend's brother Phil during our school lunch hour (he was leaving school and I was inheriting the orchestra's sole bass, a truly dreadful instrument), I mumbled something incoherent.
But Gary — one of the most genuine and genuinely charming people I have ever met — shrugged it off and we had a delightful conversation.
Shortly thereafter, he and Harmon Lewis gave a VIF recital together to mark (somewhat belatedly) his fiftieth birthday and the twentieth anniversary of their partnership.
My review, in the Times-Colonist was — deservedly — glowing and my wife, Dorothy, told me she was sad to have missed the concert.
It was only days later that I bumped into Gary at the McPherson at another VIF faculty event. He thanked me fairly effusively for my "kind" review, which was both gratifying and surprising, as he must surely by then have been used to critics being overwhelmed by his musicianship and virtuosity — not to mention his wonderful comic timing: I have often thought that were he to lose the use of his hands he could still have had a stellar career in stand-up.
I mentioned Dorothy's disappointment at missing the recital and he said "Oh, you must bring her to tea and I'll play for her".
To which, not yet being familiar with his innate generosity and kindness, I merely smiled, said "thank you" and thought no more about it.
However, when I encountered again him at the next VIF concert, he remarked "I meant what I said, you must bring your wife round to tea".
And so it was that a few days later Dorothy and I sat enthralled in Gary and Harmon's living room while he played the famous Koussevitsky bass (now the Karr-Koussevitsky bass) to an audience of two. He also asked me if I'd like to play the instrument, but I was far too timid to do more than simply touch it.
I particularly remember his playing Tom Johnson's Failing, composed in 1975 and one of the few twentieth century works for double bass not composed for Gary, although it fitted his playing and personality like the proverbial glove.
Failing requires the player not just to play but also to read, simultaneously, a complex text, about "failing, or failing to fail, or failing to succeed to fail, or whatever". It must be one of the funniest pieces of music ever written and Dorothy and I were trying not to drown his playing with our laughter.
"I knew you'd get it," said Gary, "because you're English".
I also remember that, when Gary and Harmon showed us around the house, there was at least one double bass in every room and also a variety of telephones masquerading as something else (the one shaped like Star Trek's USS Enterprise particularly stands out in my memory). It wasn't just double basses that Gary collected.
A few years later, after the demise of the VIF and the launching of the Victoria Summer Music Festival, Dorothy and I were having dinner with Gary and Harmon one evening and it was during that meal that the idea of what was to become Basses Loaded! came about.
Gary was establishing his KarrKamp summer school and wanted to hold an end-of-school concert, but the logistics were somewhat overwhelming.
Dorothy, a founding VSMF board member, offered to incorporate it into the festival: the festival would provide the publicity, deal with the ticketing etc. and all Gary and his students would have to do was show up and play.
Basses Loaded! became one of the highlights of the festival for almost two decades, selling out every year and seeing a remarkable number of music-lovers return over and over again. I feel extremely fortunate to have been able to attend (and review) every single one of them, although finding something new to say about this truly unique event became just a little harder each year.
And, of course, one of the highlights of Basses Loaded! every year, was the rare-as-hen's-teeth (after their official retirement) opportunity to hear Gary and Harmon in recital: they would normally play two or three pieces together immediately after the interval. Of course, when I say one of the highlights of Basses Loaded!, I actually mean one of the highlights of the musical year in Victoria. They truly were the finest musical partnership I have ever witnessed.
This, then, is perhaps an appropriate place to acknowledge Harmon's contribution. Always content to play the straight man to Gary's comedian, Harmon was an extraordinarily fine musician in his own right. I can only recall a handful of occasions when I had the opportunity of hearing him play sans Gary, the first two were at the old VIF: once at his own instrument, the organ (he won the Fort Wayne National Organ Playing Competition in 1964) and once on the piano, the instrument most people would associate with him.
Both times I was bowled over by his musicianship. His phrasing was impeccable, his tonal palette superb; I imagine that few musicians of his calibre would have been so willing to sacrifice a solo career for being one half of a duo, now matter how celebrated that duo was.
After their official retirement in 2001, Gary and Harmon threw themselves into Victoria's musical life. Obviously performing still formed a significant part of their activities, whether recording in their home studio, opening the 2015 Eine Kleine Summer Music festival (review here) or giving a benefit performance for the Victoria Conservatory (review here) which raised some $45,000; in the first half they were partnered by four Conservatory students, the second half was completely Karr-Lewis (and offered another rare opportunity to hear Harmon playing the organ).
Gary also served on the Board of the Conservatory from 2011-17. You can find the Conservatory's tribute to Gary here.
In October 2016, Gary gave his final public performance, at a concert by the Civic Orchestra of Victoria — and how typical that he chose to bow out at a concert given not by professionals, but by a community orchestra (admittedly, a very fine community orchestra).
You can find my review of that concert here.
I must also note the only time that I can recall seeing Gary even slightly nonplussed: back in, if I remember correctly, 1999, there was a concert of music by Gavin Bryars given at the Conservatory. Gavin — also a bassist — was performing in the concert and had borrowed one of the many instruments Gary owned.
Now Gavin and I had both, decades before, belonged to that legendarily notorious organisation, the Scratch Orchestra, although I certainly would not have claimed that we had been anything more than acquaintances.
Imagine my delight, then, when backstage after the concert, Gary took me over to Gavin and said, "Gavin, I'd like to introduce Deryk Barker" and Gavin, bless his heart, replied "Oh, Deryk and I have known each other for over twenty-five years". I believe that was the closest I ever saw Gary to being rendered speechless.
This has been an entirely personal appreciation of Gary, there have been, as befits a musician of his stature, a number of more serious obituaries and tributes from rather more serious sources, which can easily be found online and it would surely be de trop for me to simply repeat what is already well known.
But I must make one last, not entirely personal, remark: throughout musical history there have been a few supremely talented individuals who put their instrument "on the map" and shown just what it is capable of doing: the violin had Paganini, the viola Lionel Tertis, the cello Pau Casals and the guitar Andrés Segovia.
For centuries the double bass was the Cinderella of the string family. In Gary Karr, Cinderella found her Prince Charming.
There will never be another.
I am both proud and privileged to have been able to call him my friend.