Yet, for once, there was no reed and no saxophone. The weight was phantom. Durst had already played for so many events during his first months in Alaska that he held a medal for meritorious performance. Today, he was there simply to enjoy the music. He watched his fellow musicians playing brass and percussion only; any other instruments broke in subzero temperatures. They played open-valve marches—otherwise, the valves would freeze in position. Every musician wore mittens and used a plastic mouthpiece. “I never had to play my saxophone outside in the extreme cold,” he says. “The cold is something that you can get used to, just like the hot weather. It is still
White Nights
------------------------Durst remembers Alaskan summer “white nights” as one of his favorite experiences. “There is something special about being up at midnight and it seems like early evening. The weather is still moderate, few people are out and yet you have this energy to get things done like it is the middle of the day. It was always easier to get up at 5 a.m. for physical training when the sun is already halfway up the sky.”
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dangerous and care must be taken to protect against it.” DEVELOPING A STAGE PERSONALITY
Durst arrived in Fort Wainwright, Alaska in March, 1997, two weeks after completing training at the Armed Forces School of Music at Norfolk, Virginia. For four years, Durst played for ceremonial events, parades and Army marches throughout the Alaskan territory following graduation from the University of South Dakota. He also managed to also earn a graduate degree in conducting at the University of Alaska in Fairbanks. He was awed by the sheer beauty and audacity of musical performance in extreme settings. While Iowans back home monitored crops for signs of blight, Durst was in Fairbanks playing the National Anthem before the Midnight Sun Run Marathon. The June 21 race fell during summer solstice when the daytime temperature sometimes reached 50 to 60 degrees. Durst also played at The Alaska Day Festival, an annual festival each October in Sitka—an amazing archipelago in southeast Alaska. The festival commemorated the purchase of Alaska from the Russians in 1867. Durst enjoyed each performance on the tiny island, with people flocking to the nightly concerts. He presented pre-concert lectures to the audiences, and learned to be comfortable in front of a crowd. Durst was there when the national anthem trilled before the annual Sitka parade, preceding weeks of races and the contests. HOME AGAIN
Following his discharge, Durst returned to South Dakota to teach instrumental music for grades 5 through 12. He taught saxophone privately and was an adjudicator throughout the state. Durst played the requisite wedding receptions and private events—where guests were indifferent compared to the raucous
but appreciative audiences in Alaskan outposts. He noticed audiences who sometimes didn’t even hear the band, even when doing amazing performances. Even so, Durst played and played. As he played, he furthered his own special style. His own music personality began evolving. “I learn from many: someone who plays flute, an oboe, and somebody who plays saxophone. You learn. You listen to what these musicians have to