Martin Friedmann

I´m thinking about Martin today as I reflect on my own career as a musician and particularly as a violinist. Martin was my teacher for a few years when I was in middle school. I was far too young to understand his pedigree and life experience at the time, but I look back with great fondness at the few moments we were able to spend together while I was working my way through all of that repertoire with him and learning that fingering. Thank you and rest in peace, Martin!

I studied violin with Martin from the late sixties to the early seventies. He was probably my only real music teacher in the sense that he had a real curriculum. Both in the sense of his own life and in the structure of his teaching. I stopped studying with him because I was shy and the violin is the most exposed instrument except for the human voice. Then I came back to the violin in my late 20s and was often grateful to Martin. Now it's my favorite instrument with the incredible things you...

Dear Laila, I was listening to the recording of the B minor Mass today which you sent me (Shaw ) and my thoughts went out to you. We have not been in contact for some time. I was so sorry to hear of Martin's death and I am sure this is an especially difficult time for you.

Your friend and fellow oboist, Janice Miner Norvell

Dear Laila and Aloysia and family, I am sorry Martin is gone from you and from all his colleagues that had the pleasure of knowing him from our many years in the Seattle Symphony together. It is sad that only when one is able to read the obituary do we find what a profound, colorful and full life Martin had, including the perils unkown. Martin was not one to brag or flaunt his past accomplishments. I appreciated his professionalism and musicianship at work,knew about and heard Laila, his...

March 6, 2019
We were four close friends in school in Vienna: Martin Friedmann, Leopold Burli Engler, Robert BobbySpielmann, and I. We built the most elaborate marble runs in the sandbox in our favorite Park. We had animated discussions on walks in the Vienna Woods, interrupted only when we noticed Martin's absence. He was usually up in the branches of a tree.
Each of us had a modest 0-gauge windup train set with which to play at home. One of us - not I - had the brilliant idea of...

I have memories of sharing laughter with Martin Friedmann at the Ethnic Cultural Center on Brooklyn in the U-District. He and friend Corrine Odegaard would be at The Last Exit for coffee & dessert on weekends and then go to late night improv theater. He read my poems and praised my work! He was such a kind, lovely man and amazing musician! --Jeff Keith