To my knowledge, Richard Wernick is the only Pulitzer Prize-winning composer ever to nearly run me down with a car.

Wernick was a highly visible presence in Philadelphia when I attended musical events there in the 1980s and ‘90s, and for all I know, beyond. When I started working weekend mornings at a certain radio station in 1995, I had to get up at 3 or 4:00 in the morning. Ironically, it cut into my ability to attend concerts.

For all the times I espied Wernick around Philadelphia, I only spoke to him once. He was in the company of fellow Pulitzer Prize-winner George Crumb at a student recital at the Curtis Institute of Music. Now, I adored Crumb, and having him there in the back of the room, especially with Wernick by his side, was rather intimidating. I so wanted to speak to him, but I was conflicted. I certainly didn‘t want to bug him at a concert, especially if he was with somebody, and doubly-especially if that somebody happened to be Richard Wernick. Little did I realize, until many years later, when we had multiple opportunities to meet during rehearsals and concerts of Orchestra 2001, just how much of a pussycat Crumb could be. On this particular day, he struck me as unapproachable and as terrifying as one of his Black Angels.

Be that as it may, I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. It just so happened that I lived only about a block away, so I was able to dash back to my apartment and retrieve a CD on Bridge Records, Inc. that contained works by both composers.

When I got back, I caught them just as they were leaving the building, and Crumb, likely nonplussed by this 20 year-old autograph hound, was kind enough to sign. Then I looked to Wernick sheepishly, and with Crumb’s signature already on the booklet, he couldn’t very well say no. I know I mumbled a few words of appreciation, but probably didn’t say much of worth. At best, I may have provided a source of amusement on their walk back to the car, as when they left I could see they were chuckling with one another.

When I decided I would be writing about this, I wanted to get the time-line straight. Did the autograph encounter happen first, or was it after Wernick went “Death Race 2000” on me? It took me a while, but I decided the autograph had to have come first, because when I stepped off the curb into Market Street, as Wernick hurtled toward 15th Street at City Hall, I was essentially pulled back by a friend, a classmate and coworker I hadn’t become close to until a few years after the Curtis encounter. In fact, at the time, he confirmed what had already flashed before my eyes. “I’m pretty sure that was Richard Wernick!” he said.

Wernick was always easily identifiable from his facial hair – a mustache and goatee – and an unmistakable, black-brimmed hat he wore. I don’t remember what he was driving, but I seem to remember it was a rather incongruously compact car to be holding such a flamboyantly-hatted figure.

So it was somehow appropriate, in my case, that Wernick won the Pulitzer Prize for Music for his “Visions of Terror and Wonder” in 1977. (Crumb was recognized for “Echoes of Time and the River” in 1968.)

Wernick served on the faculty of the University of Pennsylvania (with Crumb and George Rochberg) from 1968 to 1996. During Riccardo Muti’s tenure as music director of the Philadelphia Orchestra, he also served as a programming consultant, suggesting new works to the maestro, with a particular emphasis on American composers – hence his frequent presence at the Academy of Music.

Wernick studied at Brandeis University with composers of the Boston School, including Irving Fine, Harold Shapero, Arthur Berger, and Leonard Bernstein. He received further lessons in composition at Tanglewood from Ernst Toch, Aaron Copland, and Boris Blacher. His own music sounds like none of these. In fact, his music steadfastly refuses to meet an audience halfway. Make of that what you will. You’ll find plenty of it posted on YouTube.

I didn’t know him as a man. For all I know, he could have exuded warmth and humor. I don’t hear any of that in his compositions. Still, I recognize his significance, and I am sorry to see him go, since, as I say, he was such a presence during a certain period of my life.

Wernick died on Friday at the age of 91. Which means he was probably about my age as he barreled down on me! How did I get stuck in this time-loop?

R.I.P.

Wernick interview with Bruce Duffie:

https://www.kcstudio.com/wernick.html

CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: Wernick, Rochberg and Crumb; amiable-looking Wernick; Wernick in the Chapeau of Doom; Wernick’s autograph