There’s really nothing so wrenching as discovering that a friend has been sick and passed away, without you even knowing. Such are the trials of living overseas, I suppose…the Atlantic ocean… the pandemic…traveling—not much.
So it was with shock on top of great sadness that I belatedly happened upon the news (scrolling Instagram, of all places) of the passing of the truly amazing person that was Steven Wasser.
Steven Wasser was the owner and President of Powell Flutes for 30 years, a friend, and might I say a fan of mine going back many years. His obituary reads like the achievements of five very accomplished men—in business, philanthropy, mentoring, and community and family life.
My remembrance here is more personal: what it means to a musician to have a true supporter, and what it meant to flutists to have a real music lover as head of the flute company.
Steven and his wife Stephanie visited Lisbon back in 1994, and we connected as I had recently bought a (newer) Powell in Boston. We visited the Jerónimos Monastery (a World Heritage site) and guess what? Steven told ME all about it! Hmm, I’d lived in Lisbon already for 5 years but no, HE was the one who’d done his homework. Vintage Wasser!
This was the same curiosity and intellect he brought to Powell Flutes, where he championed all sorts of innovations (in a tradition-bound industry) for thirty years, keeping Powell well on top of the totem pole of flute-makers. He turned the shop into a mini-United Nations, bringing in formidable talent from across the globe. The loyalty he inspired was in itself inspiring; I later met the senior artisan who had made my flute; he had been at Powell for over 20 years. Success in handcrafted instrument-making depends on this kind of dedication and continuity, and Steven assembled the most wonderful team.
Steven came to an orchestra concert here in Lisbon back in 1994, and in 2014 drove for hours to attend a Syrinx : XXII concert in Westchester, NY. He loved it so much he asked me to become a Powell Artist, and to give masterclasses for Powell—and he kept his word. This unexpected support, coming from someone who has fantastic flutists passing through “the shop” on a regular basis, was worth so much to me. Many years into an orchestra position, one starts to feel taken for granted…because…one IS taken for granted. It’s a job. (Only, music can never really be just “a job”!)
I last saw Steven a few months before Covid landed, in Midtown Manhattan—for him, another long drive to hear us play. “Making us look good, as usual” was his kind compliment. His being there was the main compliment, of course!
Steven was a Renaissance man—he also collected art by Jewish-American immigrants of the 1930s, and showed me the art he had up in his corner office at Powell. It was real luck for the company that Powell was purchased by Steven in 1986, only the second owner after Mr. Powell himself. A Harvard MBA “star”, he might well have bought a company with less tradition to navigate, and fewer nitpicky details of physical construction to deal with. But I suspect the challenges of balancing tradition with innovation, taking artistic decisions, managing artists, and hand-crafting beautiful objects were the draw for him. Visiting the shop in Maynard, on two floors of an old textile mill, Steven proudly told me “Powell is the only tenant that still makes things”.
I will remember Steven fondly and often—every time I pick up one of my Powell flutes. He was far too young, at 70, and I had looked forward to our meeting again. But I’m so grateful to have known him, and I extend my deepest sympathies to his family—and to the extended family of Powell flute players.
