McFarlane remembered for his symphony efforts
By Marc Shulgold, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)
Originally published 03:00 p.m., May 16, 2008
by the Rocky Mountain News
Shulgold...A key to the music
By Marc Shulgold, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)
Originally published 03:00 p.m., May 16, 2008
by the Rocky Mountain News
Shulgold...A key to the musicWill McFarlane enjoyed plenty of success in his 75 years: founding a hotel management chain, establishing a popular Denver restaurant, raising five kids.
But let's not forget another part of the legacy of McFarlane, who died on May 8 - Lee Yeingst sure hasn't. "There would not be a Colorado Symphony if it were not for him," the orchestra's retired principal viola stated emphatically. "There's no way I can overstate that contribution - Will was the linchpin."
Back in spring 1990, McFarlane and Yeingst were part of an unlikely triumvirate that nimbly stepped through minefields of resentment, anger and mistrust, finally hammering out an accord that established the newborn CSO as a viable entity, with McFarlane serving as board chairman for two seasons.
Today, with the orchestra sailing along, it's easy to forget that historic May afternoon when a smiling McFarlane wrapped his big arms around Yeingst and John Low at a press conference announcing that the musicians and the board of the bankrupt Denver Symphony had kissed and made up.
At that point, the new, player-run CSO was floundering, and the disbanded board had drifted from view. The prospect of a permanently dark Boettcher Hall loomed.
From Yeingst's view, the threesome represented separate elements of the community that were key to any success. Yeingst stood with the players, of course; Low (who'd served as board chair in the defunct orchestra's final days) was linked to the moneyed members of the board.
"Will represented a new element," Yeingst said. "He paved the way to bring in new faces, pillars of the community. And he was able to win over the musicians. Right away, they saw they could trust him."
It's easy to label McFarlane as the Great Uniter - but that wouldn't be fair, Yeingst insisted. "There were an awful lot of people who had a lot to do with the success of the CSO," he said. "Barry (Fey), bless his heart, got things happening."
And Bill Gossard, who'd been viewed as an adversary by the players, soon stepped in to offer much-needed financial support.
Singular words of praise for McFarlane and Yeingst came from Low, an attorney at Sherman & Howard. "They were two key players," he said. "And the three of us worked closely together."
Low didn't hide from the fact that, as board chairman, he was once viewed as Public Enemy No. 1 by the players. "Back then (in 1989-90), it was clear to me that the Symphony wasn't going to survive. You had 200 people at concerts in Boettcher.
"So, I shut down the Symphony and attempted to organize a shorter season. With the organization facing a $5 million debt, I declared bankruptcy. It was the players, with Lee and Will, who formed the (Colorado Symphony) orchestra. But, as it turned out, we needed each other."
Indeed, the players had no money and the board had no orchestra. Hanging over the warring camps was a tempting $1 million lump sum held in escrow by the newly established Scientific and Cultural Facilities District. Low arranged that the money would be rewarded to the CSO if the two sides were reunited.
According to Yeingst, Judge Ray Satter (who'd been a Symphony board member) recommended McFarlane to join the new orchestra's steering committee.
"Will had some trepidation at first," Yeingst recalled. "We weren't looking at a successful future, so he was not eager to jump in. But he had a genuine love for the art form. He'd grown up in Cleveland and was involved with the arts there.
"I think a big reason he was tempted to join (the steering committee) was that he liked a challenge."
Low pointed out that McFarlane had been on the Denver Symphony Association board, but resigned before the musicians broke away - and before Low came aboard. Efforts by Low to convince McFarlane to return were in vain.
The two men had known each other through their membership on the University of Denver board, a friendship that proved crucial to the eventual reconciliation.
"It was Will who suggested to the musicians that I was approachable," Low said. "Back then, there was a lot of hostility toward the (Denver Symphony) Association - which is perfectly understandable.
"But I represented an organization that could offer support, and Will knew that. He was an important factor in convincing the players to work with us."
Yeingst and Low will always hold their departed colleague in the highest regard. "He was a good, solid business person," Low said of McFarlane. "He was pragmatic. He understood that ideals sometimes had to give way to economic reality. His commitment grew out of the same motive I had: Denver needed a fine symphony orchestra."
No argument there from Yeingst, who admired McFarlane's energy and honesty. "He looked like the Marlboro Man. What you saw was what you got."
Yeingst lunched with his old friend regularly, until failing health intruded. CSO players signed a large get-well card in September 2006.
Low also lost contact during McFarlane's lengthy battle with cancer. A few years ago, they had reminisced about the amazing rebirth of the CSO. "We looked back on it, and we decided that we had taken a crisis and turned it into something positive.
"Our hope was that the structure we put together would live on."
But let's not forget another part of the legacy of McFarlane, who died on May 8 - Lee Yeingst sure hasn't. "There would not be a Colorado Symphony if it were not for him," the orchestra's retired principal viola stated emphatically. "There's no way I can overstate that contribution - Will was the linchpin."
Back in spring 1990, McFarlane and Yeingst were part of an unlikely triumvirate that nimbly stepped through minefields of resentment, anger and mistrust, finally hammering out an accord that established the newborn CSO as a viable entity, with McFarlane serving as board chairman for two seasons.
Today, with the orchestra sailing along, it's easy to forget that historic May afternoon when a smiling McFarlane wrapped his big arms around Yeingst and John Low at a press conference announcing that the musicians and the board of the bankrupt Denver Symphony had kissed and made up.
At that point, the new, player-run CSO was floundering, and the disbanded board had drifted from view. The prospect of a permanently dark Boettcher Hall loomed.
From Yeingst's view, the threesome represented separate elements of the community that were key to any success. Yeingst stood with the players, of course; Low (who'd served as board chair in the defunct orchestra's final days) was linked to the moneyed members of the board.
"Will represented a new element," Yeingst said. "He paved the way to bring in new faces, pillars of the community. And he was able to win over the musicians. Right away, they saw they could trust him."
It's easy to label McFarlane as the Great Uniter - but that wouldn't be fair, Yeingst insisted. "There were an awful lot of people who had a lot to do with the success of the CSO," he said. "Barry (Fey), bless his heart, got things happening."
And Bill Gossard, who'd been viewed as an adversary by the players, soon stepped in to offer much-needed financial support.
Singular words of praise for McFarlane and Yeingst came from Low, an attorney at Sherman & Howard. "They were two key players," he said. "And the three of us worked closely together."
Low didn't hide from the fact that, as board chairman, he was once viewed as Public Enemy No. 1 by the players. "Back then (in 1989-90), it was clear to me that the Symphony wasn't going to survive. You had 200 people at concerts in Boettcher.
"So, I shut down the Symphony and attempted to organize a shorter season. With the organization facing a $5 million debt, I declared bankruptcy. It was the players, with Lee and Will, who formed the (Colorado Symphony) orchestra. But, as it turned out, we needed each other."
Indeed, the players had no money and the board had no orchestra. Hanging over the warring camps was a tempting $1 million lump sum held in escrow by the newly established Scientific and Cultural Facilities District. Low arranged that the money would be rewarded to the CSO if the two sides were reunited.
According to Yeingst, Judge Ray Satter (who'd been a Symphony board member) recommended McFarlane to join the new orchestra's steering committee.
"Will had some trepidation at first," Yeingst recalled. "We weren't looking at a successful future, so he was not eager to jump in. But he had a genuine love for the art form. He'd grown up in Cleveland and was involved with the arts there.
"I think a big reason he was tempted to join (the steering committee) was that he liked a challenge."
Low pointed out that McFarlane had been on the Denver Symphony Association board, but resigned before the musicians broke away - and before Low came aboard. Efforts by Low to convince McFarlane to return were in vain.
The two men had known each other through their membership on the University of Denver board, a friendship that proved crucial to the eventual reconciliation.
"It was Will who suggested to the musicians that I was approachable," Low said. "Back then, there was a lot of hostility toward the (Denver Symphony) Association - which is perfectly understandable.
"But I represented an organization that could offer support, and Will knew that. He was an important factor in convincing the players to work with us."
Yeingst and Low will always hold their departed colleague in the highest regard. "He was a good, solid business person," Low said of McFarlane. "He was pragmatic. He understood that ideals sometimes had to give way to economic reality. His commitment grew out of the same motive I had: Denver needed a fine symphony orchestra."
No argument there from Yeingst, who admired McFarlane's energy and honesty. "He looked like the Marlboro Man. What you saw was what you got."
Yeingst lunched with his old friend regularly, until failing health intruded. CSO players signed a large get-well card in September 2006.
Low also lost contact during McFarlane's lengthy battle with cancer. A few years ago, they had reminisced about the amazing rebirth of the CSO. "We looked back on it, and we decided that we had taken a crisis and turned it into something positive.
"Our hope was that the structure we put together would live on."
