Justin Kolb
Justin Kolb began taking piano lessons at the age of four. The kid could play piano. Neighborhood teachers would say to his parents, "He needs something more than I can give him." This was the introduction to his life as a concert musician, but the exact moment he made up his mind to be a concert pianist came with a thunderous wave of music impacting his young ears.
Justin's middle school piano teacher was very contest conscious. She entered him in a contest with the Gary Indiana Symphony Orchestra, and of course, he won. The kid could play. His teacher brought in an older girl, to prepare him for his contest piece, playing with the full orchestra.
As Justin tells it, "I'd play bum bah reumpty bah bah, bump bah ree um. Then she'd play bah bumpty dah de um. Then, I'd play, bah bumpty dah de um. Once again she'd go bah bumpty dah de um,then I'd do one more, bah bumpty dah de um bah dah dah, then together we go,(emphatically) BUMP PAH BAD AH REH YUP! with a crescendo.
So Young Justin found himself in a church basement with a crowd of musicians in overalls. The child Justin had "anticipated more formality." However, after all, this was Gary Indiana. Remember the song from "The Music Man"? They told him, as soon as the conductor points to you, you begin, "so I did my bah bah bahs...and then, at that crash, I was astounded, it felt like a locomotive was plowing through the building." He had never experienced anything that powerful.
At that moment, that nanosecond, before he knew the term "concert pianist," Justin Kolb knew what he would be doing the rest of his life. He had no idea where this powerful barrage of sound would carry him, but he knew he would ride that wave wherever it would take him.
The same teacher took him to an audition with Fritz Reiner. Reiner had been the conductor of the Volksoper in Budapest and the Court Opera in Dresden. Now as Justin sat in front of him, he was the music director of the Cincinnati Symphony. Maestro Reiner had a butterscotch candy in his cheek. He asked Justin if he liked butterscotch. Justin assured him he did. Reiner said, if he played well, he'd have a lot of butterscotch candies. Kolb was on his way.
Early in his journey, he met the right girl. His teenage love was to become the remarkably capable Barbara Kolb. As they found each other, the nation was entering a time of redefinition. The Vietnam War had been tearing Vietnam apart and tearing apart the French who supported the South Vietnamese government.
Justin Kolb's college had a compulsory ROTC program, so he had to take classes in military history and drill. For younger readers, to whom the word "Rot-See" has no meaning, it was Officer Training so that the college's graduates would enter the military as officers.
In the later 1960s, Lieutenant Kolb found himself stationed in Germany. His commanding officer had the idea that the German people were tired of army sponsored athletic events and weapons displays, as part of community relations. It had come to his attention that Justin played the piano, and when he heard that Kolb intended to be a concert pianist, he called the oberburgermeister of Mannheim, an industrial city on the Rhine and said, "I have this famous American concert pianist and I have a deal for you. You and I are going to present him in his European debut. Of course, the colonel had never heard him play. As luck would have it, and years of dedicated practice and great teachers... the kid could play.
And play he did for the rest of his five years in the army. He lived out of a suitcase changing into black tie in the back of a limousine, becoming Captain Kolb on the concert tours. But here is where the story becomes the stuff of a John le Carré novel.
In his last six months in the army in Europe, his commander introduced him to someone in the State Department. They had taken notice of his performance. In Italy, audience members backstage would say things such as "The Beethoven was great. Why are you bombing civilians in North Vietnam?" He'd reply, "We're not killing civilians..."
It was 1968, and he found himself representing the American army as much as the music he was presenting. "This was before any of us were politically aware, or knew that we did horrible things." So, he went to the State Department and reported that he was being asked and told about these horrible things.
The people at State said, "This is good, we can have you meet with students in Europe." So they had him memorize the executive summary of the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization, (SEATO).
Kolb would meet with students in Europe and say, "Why do you know so much about my government and yet you have no idea how involved your government is?" And they'd say "Oh no, we're not involved!" He'd reply, "you have 600 engineer technicians in country in Vietnam, you have 1,300 South Vietnamese women being trained as nurses here [in Germany.] Where is the hospital ship SS Helgoland?" They'd reply, "Oh, that's up in Bremerhaven?" I'd say, "No, it's in the Gulf of Tonkin, in Vietnam."
So, when his time in the military was up and he was applying for release, Captain Kolb was approached by the CIA (the "Company," "Langley" "The Pickle Factory.") Kolb asked the person interviewing him, the #2 guy in the agency, "Can I get Hurt?". The interviewer said, "Probably not." That sealed it. "Probably." It was time to say no to Uncle Sam.
He and Barbara took a few decades off to raise three children, two boys and a girl. Kolb says he was working, writing training materials for Fortune 100 companies. He wanted to retire back to his musical career so in 1980, he and three friends developed a Cell Phone company and were able to retire by 1987. After a year of doing wonderful nothing, he began to practice to return to the concert stage.
Barbara Kolb is well known in these parts for her dedication to, and talent at helping not for profits. Now, she and Justin are embarking on a project to keep him close to the music he feels he cannot keep playing with the advance of age and aftereffects of a stroke, over which he has triumphed. They have created a scholarship to aid young people going to accredited music schools for any instrument or for concert and music recording engineering. In his invitation to help with the funding of this effort he states "Your contribution becomes more than financial support. It becomes applause in a crowded auditorium, comfort in a hospital room, and joy in a child discovering their first note."
I hope many of my readers will be inspired to go to tinyurl/JKolbMusic and donate to the fund managed by the Community Foundation for South Central New York.
Justin Kolb's second to his last concert was announced, a house concert in his home's music room. The two story high ceiling with a hanging oil lamp candelabra and comfortable chairs and benches complimented the perfect living acoustics of the room. The audience was a who's who of the Catskill music world and art world.
Justin performed short pieces by the big three. "You all know who the big three are?" He asked. The old friends in the audience shot back, "The Beatles, Bee Gees and Blood Sweat and Tears ... " Kolb played Beethoven, Brahms and Bach with one of Erik Satie's Gymnopédies (naked dances) thrown in. The listeners kept their seats and clothes on in spite of the invitation provided by this wonderfully familiar piece. His dedication to his late friend Christianna Martindale brought tears to his eyes and ours. His playing brought us all to our feet. After all, the kid can play piano.
Barbara and Justin Kolb
The audience at Justin's house concert
