José Azcue Gave Fulton the Gift of Music

Now and then, in cities and towns across America, someone comes along to offer something important, something life-giving to the community. That’s what happened in 1958, when José Azcue came to Fulton. After arriving from his native Spain, countless Fultonians learned to love and appreciate music from a man who’d been in love with it from an early age.

I remember Mr. Azcue from my school years; I was in the same class as his daughter, Charito, who, along with her brother Peter, helped me prepare this memory of their father.

It was in his hometown of Oiartzun that six-year-old Azcue began studying music. “In my house we had a piano,” José once said in an interview, “and I started tangling with it. It seems that I was good at it.”

Others recognized José’s talent and by age 11, he was studying at a seminary in Villafranca de Navarra. Like many young boys in Spain at that time, José received his education at the seminary and it was there that he was exposed to music which he described as “of a higher level.” His superiors recognized his potential and he was soon playing the organ at church masses. Despite his strong faith, José left the seminary before taking perpetual vows, but remained close to the Catholic church throughout his life.

Azcue began playing music outside the church, eventually joining a performance group that included his wife, Rosario. (She was known as Charito in Fulton.) “He was on a music tour with a group of Basque singers and dancers,” their daughter Charito explained. “Dad accompanied them on the accordion.”

The group eventually toured America in 1952 and again in 1954, leaving José with the impression that the United States “was a place of the future.” While in the states, Azcue saw a newspaper ad about a job for an organist at a church in Upstate New York. That parish was Fulton’s Immaculate Conception Church.

“His application was quickly accepted,” Charito said, “but Immigration Services refused to give him a green card the first time. They asked if there was no American organist who could fill that position, but at the time, masses were sung in Latin and an organist who could sing in Latin was required. Sometime later, Dad received his green card.” By 1958, Azcue, his wife, and three children were calling Fulton their new home.

A fourth Azcue child, Peter, was born in Fulton and he shared some memories of those early years in our city. “We lived on Fifth Street, near the church, and our life revolved around the church and St. Mary’s School. Three or four mornings a week my father was up early to play organ for mass. Every day after school he gave piano lessons at our home. There’d be a section of our living room partitioned off and students would come for their lessons in a steady flow. My father worked, he taught and he studied. This was his life, with an occasional round of golf, which he loved.”

Jose’s strong work ethic could be seen in how he mastered the English language. Already bilingual in Spanish and Basque, Azcue also studied Greek and Latin in the seminary and had quite a bit of understanding of French and Italian. Peter mentioned this about his father: "When he and my mother were touring, most of the group would be on the bus talking and relaxing. My father would be in the back of the bus, studying English.”

Richard Swierczek, who also devoted many years to sharing his musical talents with our city, suggested one reason why Azcue looked forward to working and raising his family in Fulton. “The organ in the Immaculate Conception church was a magnificent instrument.” Soon, the two men of music began collaborating. Swierczek, who worked for the Fulton School District, talked to José about joining him in the city’s public schools. “He would need to earn certification, and we spent some time with school administration, New York State teacher regulations, and then I took him to Syracuse University to arrange for his certification classes. José was a remarkable musician, and the Church and eventually the Fulton public schools were to benefit.”

One of the many young people who received those benefits was Mike Callen, who attended St. Mary’s School and was involved with the school choir. Mike has vivid memories of his days spent studying music under Azcue.

“He would be seated at the piano or standing near the stage looking through his briefcase. Mr. Azcue did not mess around. Once practice began, he had our full attention and desire. His humble radiant smile was the golden reward for getting it right. We, his cherubs, loved and respected him and knew the feeling was mutual.”

For nearly twenty years, Azcue enriched Fultonians with his music. He then returned to his home country in 1975. “Upon his return to Spain,” Charito and Peter explained, “he won the prestigious position as ‘Titular Organist of the Basilica de Santa Maria Del Coro,’ holding that position until his death in 2008. Thanks to the importance of this position, he started his career as a concert organist, playing in different countries in Europe. Over the next 35 years that was the focus of his work.”

There were other highlights of Azcue’s musical career. In 1985, he celebrated the third centennial of the birth of J.S. Bach by playing his complete works in a series of concerts throughout Spain. That same year he represented Spain in the Europalia Festival that took place in Belgium. Though often appearing as a soloist, José also accompanied orchestras such as the Spanish National Orchestra and the Orchestra of the Spanish Television, and the Orfeon Donostiarra, a Basque choir which has sung all over the world.

In the years since José left Fulton, so many in our city never forgot him. As Mike Callen said, “The memory that I have most often is that José was always on the move, and in going from place to place, he touched so many lives and souls. Almost 50 years later, people still talk about when José Azcue was here.”

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The Oswego Players Put the Community in Community Theatre

Almost every city or town has one. You know it when you drive down their main street and see colorful posters inviting everyone to a classic whodunit or a beloved musical or—couldn’t we all use this today?—a knee-slapping comedy. Those plays are presented by community theatre troupes and if you’re lucky, you’ve had the pleasure of being entertained by one.

Sitting in a darkened gymnasium or church hall, awaiting the start of a play, I’ve often wondered how community theatres began. I’d imagined the first one taking place in an outdoor arena in ancient Greece, but its origin doesn’t reach that far back. It was about one hundred years ago that Louise Burleigh wrote about a new form of entertainment developing in small towns and cities. In her book, The Community Theatre in Theory and Practice, Burleigh defined community theatre as an organization “which regularly produces drama on a noncommercial basis and in which participation is open to the community at large."

The city of Oswego embraced that openness soon after the idea was born. In fact, its Oswego Players is one of the oldest continuously operating community theatres in the United States. Founded in 1938, the Players have hosted audiences for many years at its Frances Marion Brown Theatre, located near Fort Ontario. To find out about the Players and who its intimate theatre is named after, I asked its longest-serving member, Inez Parker.

“Frances Marion Brown was one of the founding members,” Inez told me. “She was an English teacher at Kingsford Park and hosted the first meeting of the group at her home.” Parker’s been with the Players more than half a century, which means she’s got lots of stories, like what first drew her to community theatre.

“My father, Norman Manor, Sr., joined the Players in the 1940s,” Inez reminisced. “He was a leading-man type actor because he was a handsome man—he looked like Don Johnson. I just loved seeing him up on the stage. But he would have trouble learning his lines, so I would sit with him and drill his lines. I was eight or ten, and I caught the theatre bug from my father.”

Other Players members have considerable histories with the group, including Rick Sivers, who joined the Players in 1965. Rick has this memory of Frances Marion Brown:

“I first became a member of the Oswego Players while in high school. At my first meeting, I sat in the theatre waiting for it to start and in walks this woman in a light brown ranch coat. Her hair was braided and up on her head. She sat down and then began to smoke a Tiperillo cigar. Imagine my surprise when I found out it was the famous Frances Marion Brown.”

Before founding the theatre dedicated in Brown’s name, the Players’ performances took place wherever they were welcomed: the Robinson Auditorium in the old Oswego High School, the YMCA, and in various churches. One church in particular has become a regular host for the Players, thanks to Inez Parker.

“About 15 years ago,” Inez said, “we were looking for ways to bring people in to the theatre who wouldn’t normally do so. My church, the Episcopal Church, has a Great Hall that is perfect for dinner theatre. The acoustics are exquisite and it has a piano and organ.” Parker designed the theatre-in-a-church event as a full evening of entertainment. After serving a made-from-scratch meal, the play begins. “Then,” explained Inez, “between the two acts we serve coffee, tea and a slice of pie.”

Such events are considered crowd pleasers in the entertainment world, but it isn’t just audiences who enjoy themselves. For many—the number is certainly in the thousands for the Players—performing on stage or working behind the scenes can a profoundly pleasurable experience. Oswegonian Michael Moss has been in numerous Players productions and he offered this reflection on them:

“It’s always fun performing for the audience and they’re always so receptive to our performance. I love the cast bonding and the rehearsal process, as well as having so many great directors to guide us.”

Certainly, each show’s director creates the opportunity for their play to come together and Inez has been at the helm for over 50 Players productions. When directing, she depends on her strong support system of stage managers, light and sound technicians, costume coordinators, set designers and builders, and box office staff. But at the center of it all is the director and to inspire her, Parker looks to her favorite playwrights.

“I absolutely love Agatha Christie and I’ve done them all,” Parker recalled. “And I love musicals. I got the idea of doing an annual musical because we thought they would bring people into the theatre. So in 2009, we did Meet Me in St. Louis. The next year, we did You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown and since then I’ve done Mame, Gypsy and Man of La Mancha.”

Paul McKinney has directed a number of Players shows. He’s has acted in quite a few, too, beginning in 1965, when he was an Oswego State freshman. Paul has also served as the group’s president, a position he currently holds. He said this about the Players’ long-running success:

“Since its inception, the organization has relied wholly on volunteers. Members come from a wide cross-section of the community, but share a common love of theatre. Leadership comes from within the membership, with an executive team elected annually by the general membership. These board members serve as officers and the primary policy-making body of the Oswego Players, Inc.”

The Players is now in its 82nd year and with the current coronavirus pandemic, live theatre is in limbo. When Inez was asked what that means for The Players, she reflected, “In the future, when things open back up, people are going to be dying to see each other and hug each other. It just might be that people will have learned its importance by being away from theatre for so long.”

From the hallways of history I can hear Frances Marion Brown echoing Inez’s thoughts. “We’ve weathered many a storm,” Brown once said, “and are still holding true to the reason we started: to bring good theatre by local casts to Oswego and its environs, and have fun doing it.”

Theatre lovers can get a glimpse of where The Players are headed during the pandemic. The group has announced their next production, Do You Read Me, in which director Norm Berlin presents The Players’ Theatre Arts Youth Academy in its first virtual production. The show will be presented online on October 16, 17, 18, 23, 24 and 25. For more information visit The Players’ website here or their Facebook page, Oswego Players, Inc.

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Kidding Around with Joe Vescio

A few months ago, I wrote about Joe Vescio, a lifelong Fultonian who was part of a large Italian farming family. Joe’s no longer with us, but he left us an essay about his life to enjoy. He called it “The Good Old Days” and today’s column is inspired by Joe’s memories of how kids used to play.

We baby boomers are well aware that what children consider enjoyable today is vastly different from when we were young. Many of us regularly complain about kids spending too much time staring at a screen, whether it be a TV, computer or cell phone. But rather than focusing on complaining, Joe told stories about how kids played in the good old days.

“We had to be original and think of ways to amuse ourselves without getting into trouble,” Joe wrote. “One of the ways we amused ourselves was to play marbles. I mean the marbles made out of clay. We were so poor we couldn’t afford real alleys, which were glass marbles with fancy colors inside.”

Joe and his buddies created a whole world out of those marble games, which even made schooldays fun. “We used to play with them on the way to school,” Joe explained. “It was a very simple game; all you had to do was toss a marble and then your opponent would have to either hit your marble with his toss or come within a hand span to claim your marble. You would be surprised how many you could win or lose by the time you got to school.”

The fun didn’t stop when Joe and his pals arrived at their destination. “We would usually get to school a little early and with a small twig make a circle in the play yard. Each player would toss in the same number of marbles and then we would take turns trying to shoot the marbles outside the circle. Whatever each player got outside the circle were his.”

Marbles never was my game of choice, so I wasn’t sure why winning as many as possible was important. But, as Joe described it, marbles were treasures to protect: “The fancier they were, the more valuable. We had to exchange five clay marbles for one glass alley. Then, of course, there was the steely, which was a metal ball taken from ball bearings and could be of various sizes. Those were the ultimate, and sometimes you had to give up to ten or twenty glass alleys to get one steely.”

Joe concluded his memories of playing marbles with a comment that connected his Vescio family to my family. “All of us kids had an old cloth salt sack filled with marbles,” Joe said, “and I remember guarding them with our lives.”

Joe’s mention of a salt sack reminded me of a talk I had with my dad, Silvio Farfaglia, shortly before he passed away. Dad was telling stories of his life, including his younger years right around the time our country was suffering from The Great Depression. Like many during that time period, Dad’s family was struggling to make ends meet. Having fun wasn’t the responsibility of parents; it was up to kids.

“We’d go to school all day long and then congregate in the streets after,” Dad told me. “For play we’d take the old salt bags—back then, salt came in a bag—and we’d stuff it with leaves. That’s what we used for a football. If we wanted to make a scooter, we took a couple pair of old roller skates and a piece of wood. We’d play hockey on the pond, with an old stick and a stone for a puck; none of us had ice skates. We invented a game where we took an old clothespin and sharpened the end and threw it like a javelin to see who could throw the farthest.”

Dad made it sound like part of the fun in those games of challenge was scavenging for the right materials. Here’s what Joe needed for a game he called megly peg: “We used to cut a four-inch piece from an old broom handle, then taper about one inch back on each end to make a peg. Each player would have a stick about eighteen inches long, probably cut from the same broom handle…The object of the game was to hit the end of the tapered peg with the longer stick to make it leave the ground toward the center of a circle.”

Like my dad, Joe and his friends used whatever they could find around the house for their games. “We’d get a piece of shingle about two inches wide by one foot long and make a small hole in one end of it and tie a string on the hole and twirl it around you to make it sound like an airplane,” Joe wrote. “We would tie string about eighteen inches long on each of a handkerchief’s four corners and then tie them to a small rock…then toss it as high as you could and watch our parachute come down gradually.”

For a game called “hoops” Joe needed a large circle. “The only problem,” he recalled, “was that we were never able to get a good round hoop; all we were able to get were barrel hoops and they were slightly tapered and made it a little more difficult to control, but somehow we were able to overcome all obstacles…”

Overcoming obstacles to have fun. That’s not something you hear much of today, when most toys are packaged and ready to play. It inspires me to remember how Joe and my dad’s generation tackled those problems, because no matter what, as Joe pointed out, “we did have fun.”

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