Don Quayle, 84, NPR’s first president

From Current — 4/23/2015

Don Quayle, NPR’s first president, dies at 84

Don QuayleDon Quayle, who got NPR off the ground as its first president in 1970, died April 17 of complications from brain surgery at a hospital in Silver Spring, Md., according to the Washington Post. He was 84.

Quayle kick-started NPR at a time when television was the innovative medium of the day, not radio. At the time, the presidency of NPR was a job “nobody particularly wanted,” said Jack Mitchell, Quayle’s first hire at NPR and a professor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

Quayle’s vision for NPR was to provide “excellence and diversity to noncommercial radio,” he said in a 1971 Billboard article.

He did that, in part, Mitchell said, by acting as the “adult figure” at the network, hiring a “highly creative group of young people” that would shape the direction of NPR and go on to create All Things Considered under his tenure, which lasted until 1973.

“He had no great vision of what the programming should be . . . became a highly creative and fluid organization,” Mitchell said. “In the beginning, it could have been almost anything. He didn’t dictate anything. He allowed people to try things.”

“He provided the structure within which we could work effectively,” said Bill Siemering, who worked under Quayle as NPR’s first programming director, in an email. “He was patient during the first rocky months of starting All Things Considered and his trust that it would get better was invaluable.”

“He got going,” Mitchell said. “And given the very weak state of educational radio [at the time], just getting it going was amazing.”

NPR was “very fortunate that we had him as the first president,” Mitchell said.

Before getting tapped to lead NPR, Quayle worked for CPB not long after it was established by the Public Broadcasting Act of 1967. Before that, he helped establish what would later become Utah Public Radio as a student at Utah State University in Logan. He then went on to be a program manager at WOSU in Columbus, Ohio, and station manager at WGBH in Boston, according to the Herald Journal. Before working at NPR, he also worked at the Eastern Educational Network.

After leaving NPR in 1973, he rejoined CPB as a senior vice present and went on to become vice president for administration at WETA in Arlington, Va., before retiring in 1989, according to the Post.

Mitchell described Quayle as “quite thoughtful and very warm.” “I always said, if you ever have a flat tire on the Pennsylvania Turnpike at night in the rain, give him a call,” he said. “He’ll come fix it.”

Quayle is preceded in death by his wife Yvonne Rich, the Post said, and is survived by five children: Sharla Hellie, Debra Quayle, Karen Hall, Kathleen Specht and Bryce Quayle; a sister; 13 grandchildren; and 10 great-grandchildren.

From Susan Stamberg/NPR — 4/17/2015

The first president of National Public Radio has died. Don Quayle was 84 years old. He had a long career in public broadcasting — both television and radio. NPR’s Susan Stamberg reflects on his impact.

Don Quayle gave me my first radio job. It was the early ’60s and he was head of the Educational Radio Network — the precursor of NPR — a skinny little network of 12 East Coast stations that developed a daily drive-time news show. He hired me to help produce it. When this national network arose, he was an obvious choice to run it.

Don was principled, decent and astute. In the euphoric tumult of our first years, he navigated the choppy seas of building a public radio system. He knew NPR had to serve you, our listeners, above the competing needs of stations, boards and funders.

Putting the network’s first program, All Things Considered, on the air in 1971, he presided over a dedicated and scrappy staff, and always said his job was to build a structure in which creative people could flourish.

Today’s NPR goes far beyond the structure that Don worked to establish from 1970 to 1973. It’s now grown to 900-plus member stations — a giant leap from the original handful. And All Things Considered is the first of many programs NPR now produces. But the systems and sensibility he put in place (and yes, even some of the people) continue to flourish, thanks to his initial guidance.

Five years ago, Utah State University, his alma mater, presented Don with an honorary doctorate of humane letters for his “significant contributions” to public broadcasting. He was as thrilled about that as he was when he first saw the snazzy new Washington, D.C., headquarters in which we now work.

He was warm and kind in his enthusiasms. At the heart of them, in addition to his family, was his belief in the work you hear, here, every day.

Joe Day, 78, tenacious reporter

From the Boston Globe — March 15, 2015

After leaving the Providence Journal in 1970 to be a moderator and editor at WGBH-TV in Boston, Joe Day immediately earned respect for his insight and tenacity.

As a member of Channel 2’s “The Reporters” team, Mr. Day refused to take no for an answer that December when the Massachusetts Consumer Protection Division announced that several gasoline stations were selling the identical fuel at varying prices, but would not reveal which ones.

“I thought, ‘What the hell kind of consumer protection is that?’ ” Mr. Day told the Globe in 1971. In the month that followed, he called 18 gasoline companies, twice each, to ask if they were the offenders, and repeatedly asked the state when the names would be released.

“I, for one, intend to follow this story to the end,” Mr. Day told his viewers, and his persistence paid off when the state attorney general’s office announced the names.

Joe Day

Mr. Day, who later was a chief political and citizen affairs correspondent and editor at Boston’s WCVB-TV and WHDH-TV from 1973 to 1992, died March 8 after a heart attack in his winter home in Princeville, Kauai, in Hawaii. He was 78 and had lived in Santa Fe since leaving Boston.

“Joe was inspirational as a person and as a journalist, and there was a calm sense of mission about him,” said David Ropeik, one of Mr. Day’s former colleagues at Channel 5. “He wanted the most competitive beat at the time — politics and government — and he deserved it.”

Former WCVB-TV Channel 5 reporter and commentator Clark Booth called Mr. Day “a damn good newsman who was great meeting deadlines and a superb writer. He had an instinct for the soft underbelly of a story. There was a fundamental decency about him, and although he may have been the quietest guy in the room, he was most likely the smartest.”

The recipient of several awards, including New England Emmys for coverage of the Massachusetts Democratic Convention and the funeral of Connecticut Governor Ella Grasso, Mr. Day was the son of Alice (Alexander) and Price Day, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist at the Baltimore Sun.

“Joe had a curiosity about the people he covered, whether it was a presidential candidate or, later after moving to Santa Fe, telling the story of a parking lot attendant,” said his wife, Nancy. “He was still reporting until his death for our radio station in Kauai about the opening of a biofuel plant.”

Born in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., Joseph Day grew up in Baltimore and graduated from Princeton University in 1958 with a bachelor’s degree in English.

His three brothers also worked as journalists, including his late sibling, Tony, an editorial page editor at the Los Angeles Times.

Mr. Day’s entry into newspaper work began with a bus ticket. “Joe had just returned from Army service in Germany,” his wife said, “and he wrote a letter to the editor of the Milwaukee Journal, who told him if he was ever in the area to drop in, with no promise of a job.”

When Mr. Day sent the letter, he was two years out of Princeton and back in Baltimore. He immediately hopped a bus to Milwaukee and was hired in 1960. Then, from 1963 to 1970, he was assistant state editor and a reporter at the Providence Journal.

“I think his family was surprised he made the move to television,” his wife said, “but it was something he wanted to try.” She added that he “felt that he would have an even stronger connection with the public.”

Mr. Day met Nancy Crichton, an artist, on the beach in Ocean City, Md., when she was a student at Ohio Wesleyan University. They married on Sept. 20, 1961. The couple and their children lived in a Colonial-era farmhouse in Marlborough when he worked in Boston.

“Joe was pensive and thoughtful in his interviewing, which was more conversational than confrontational,” recalled Massachusetts Secretary of State William Galvin. “It wasn’t show biz with him, but he made his point and never let you off the hook.”

Mr. Day’s award-winning reports ranged from documentaries on the deaths of asbestos workers in Massachusetts to safety concerns at Logan Airport, the return of a slain soldier from Vietnam, and the New England fisheries crisis.

Globe columnist Scot Lehigh was on the political beat for the Boston Phoenix when Mr. Day was covering the 1988 presidential campaign of Michael Dukakis for Channel 7.

“On the night of the returns, Joe went on the air and reported that Ohio had gone to George Bush and that there was no real path to the White House for Dukakis at that point,” Lehigh recalled. “He was the first local reporter to make the call, and that was Joe, way ahead of the pack.

“No matter what his assignment, he was persistent and fair and asked the tough questions when he had to, but never in an egotistical manner.”

Mr. Day left Boston and moved to Santa Fe to change his lifestyle, according to his son Matthew of Harvard.

“He felt the nature of the business was changing, and his brother Tom lived and worked there as a journalist, but what did not change was dad’s overriding interest in people from all walks of life,” Matthew said. “That defined his career and how he viewed the world.”

From 1993 through 1998, Mr. Day was an adjunct professor at the College of Santa Fe, where he advised the student newspaper. He also taught at the University of New Mexico from 1993 to 2000. He was a moderator and producer for KNME-TV, a PBS affiliate in Albuquerque, from 1994 to 2000, and he formed his own company, Daylight Productions, for which he was a documentary producer, writer, and narrator.

In addition to his wife, son Matthew, and brother, Mr. Day leaves another son, Peter of Corvallis, Ore.; a daughter, Sarah of Longmont, Colo.; another brother, James of Berkeley, Calif.; and seven grandchildren.

This summer, Mr. Day’s ashes will be spread off Block Island, R.I., one of his family’s favorite vacation destinations. A celebration of his life in Santa Fe will be announced.

In an interview last June with the Princeton Alumni Weekly, Mr. Day said that “journalism is good for my brain. I’m still curious.” Although his career at one point included getting to eat meals prepared by celebrity chef Julia Child when both were at Channel 2, he said that “what I’ve tried to do all along is to report about real people. I don’t call them ‘ordinary’ because nobody’s ordinary.”

More than a half-century after landing his first reporting job, he could still stay “I love this work,” and retained his belief in the profession.

“We need reporters — people to go out and try to find out what’s going on as best they can, so they can tell other people.”

Bob Wilson, Television Photographer


From the Boston Globe/

WILSON, Robert Nelson Of Cambridge, Tues., Aug. 26.

Devoted husband of Jacqueline (Oxley) Wilson. Beloved father of Tanya Robin Wilson and Justin Oxley Wilson and his wife Ameika Lumley Wilson. Beloved brother of Gary Wilson, Leila Jones, Bertha Alexander, Debra Wilson, and the late Arthur Wilson. Beloved grandfather of Jayla, Chayse, Gavin Wilson and Jayden Lumley. He also leaves a host of nieces, nephews, other relatives and friends.

Bob was a television photographer for WGBH and WCVB.

In lieu of flowers please donate to Wellesley METCO Program Scholarship at 50 Rice Street, Wellesley, MA 02481.

From Jim Boyd, via Olivia Tappan

My heart, thoughts and prayers are with Jackie Wilson and her family today.

We said good-bye yesterday to my long-time good friend Bob Wilson. Services were held at St. Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church in Cambridge, MA followed by interment at Mt. Auburn Cemetery.

Bob Wilson was a news photographer at WGBH-TV and  WCVB Channel 5 Boston, a US Army Vietnam War era veteran and an avid horseman. His casket was carried by an elegant horse carriage to the cemetery where he received a fitting military salute. It was a heart-warming sendoff for a truly deserving man.

Good-bye Bob Wilson and thank you from the bottom of my heart for the innumerable ways in which you enriched my life.

Otto Piene, 85, New Television Workshop Video Artist

From the New York Times

piene-obit-1-superJumboOtto Piene, a German painter and sculptor known for his experiments in kinetic art and for working at the junction of art, nature and technology, died on Thursday in Berlin, where he was attending the opening of a retrospective of his work. He was 86 and had homes in Düsseldorf and Groton, Mass…

In 1957, along with Heinz Mack, Mr. Piene (pronounced PEEN-uh) founded the Zero Group, a collection of artists dedicated to redefining art in the aftermath of World War II. Through the mid-1960s the group attracted adherents from Japan and the Americas as well as Europe. Their work — to be celebrated in an exhibition at the Guggenheim Museum in New York this fall — anticipated developments in land art, Minimalism, Conceptual art and performance art.

From “The Medium is the Medium: the Convergence of Video, Art, and Television at WGBH (1969)

On March 23rd 1969 Boston’s public television station WGBH broadcast a program titled The Medium is the Medium. The program was a half-hour long compilation of short videos by six artists. The six pieces ranged from electronically manipulated imagery set to the music of the Beatles to an attempt at communication between four separate locations through audio-visual technology…

The Medium is the Medium was the result of the pairing of artists with engineers. This pairing was the brainchild of the Rockefeller Foundation, which decided to bring these two together in what was the Artists-in-Television program. Founded in 1967 it gave seed grants to two public broadcasting stations, WGBH in Boston and KQED in San Francisco. These grants enabled the stations to begin residency programs matching artists with members oftheir production staffs. Several of the artists in the program had made films but most were coming to this type of time-based art work for the first time…

The six artists in The Medium is the Medium came to the technology with varied degrees of experience. Some of them had a background in electronics such as Thomas Tadlock and Nam June Paik. Others had a history of making kinetic sculptures and multi- media pieces such as James Seawright, Aldo Tambellini and Otto Piene…

Of all the artists involved Piene was the one to see the potential of televising art. He saw the ability of broadcasting to bring art to a larger group of people. His video Black Gate Cologne (made with Aldo Tambellini) stands as the very first broadcast of video art in the world. Like the WGBH video it was also a event that took place live in the studio and recorded in its entirety for future broadcast…

Following the show’s broadcast, the six artists continued working, most of them leaving video technology behind. Paik alone continued to experiment and push the boundaries of the medium in both televisual and the sculptural directions… Piene continued teaching at MIT and became the director of the Center for Advanced Visual Studies in 1974.

Otto Piene: “The greatest service technology could do for art would be to enable the artist to reach a proliferating audience, perhaps through TV, or to create tools for some new monumental art that would bring art to as many men today as in the middle ages.”



Kenneth Anderson, 75, lighting director and production manager

Excerpts from the Miami Herald

Kenneth AndersonBefore Kiss, no rock group had ever put quite as much emphasis on the outrageous while onstage.

It was up to Kenneth Anderson to make those wild antics happen.

Anderson, who died of cancer at 75 on Dec. 15 at his Hallandale Beach home, was vice president of production at Aucoin Management in New York and helped design Kiss’ stage productions from 1976 to 1982.

This was the era when the hard rock foursome’s theatrical shows were evolving at a crazy, scary pace. A fire-breathing bassist. A levitating drum set. Flashing lightning bolts. Confetti rockets.

“Don’t try to describe a Kiss concert if you’ve never seen it,” South Florida troubadour Jimmy Buffett once quipped in his 1978 tune, Mañana. He was clearly referencing Anderson’s stage designs. These came from ideas that were coming fast and furious from band leaders Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley…

“Ken Anderson was dedicated to our cause and his skill was in evidence to anyone who saw our stages during those years,” Simmons and Stanley posted on the Kiss website.

Anderson was born in Melrose, MA. One of his first gigs was as a lighting director at Boston’s WGBH for its signature series, The French Chef starring Julia Child. He met Bill Aucoin there, Kiss’ former manager who helped catapult the band after its formation in 1972. Anderson also worked on Sesame Street, its spin-off, The Electric Company, and stage production work with Jesus Christ Superstar and Oh, Calcutta!


Mike Foti, former Director of Engineering


The WGBH community mourns with deep sadness the passing of Mike Foti, former Director of Engineering, who left ’GBH last June after 14 years to become VP of Engineering at Oregon Public Broadcasting. Mike died on Thurs, 6/12 after a brief illness. “This is difficult news at any time,” say WGBH President Jon Abbott and COO Ben Godley, “but doubly painful in the wake of Valerie’s death just days ago.

Mike’s contributions to WGBH modernized systems and launched new services, including centralcasting and the integration of New Hampshire Public Television’s master control within WGBH’s operations. Our sincere condolences go to his family and to his many close WGBH friends and colleagues.” Ed Chuk, Director of WGBH Studios, knew Mike for more than 20 years. “Mike left a positive mark on broadcasting and WGBH in particular,” Ed says. “He worked tirelessly to transition WGBH (which he loved) to our new technical facility in the years preceding our move from Western Avenue. It was a major accomplishment for Mike and his engineering team when he flipped the switch that day and WGBH and WGBX were officially broadcasting from Guest Street. He was a thoughtful colleague and friend and we will miss him.”

Mike’s family is planning a memorial service in the Boston area sometime in August (stay tuned to QuickNooz). In the meantime, condolences can be sent to Mike’s wife, Debbie Foti, 14826 SE Misty Drive, 108, Happy Valley, OR 97086. Farewell, friend!

Valerie Gunderson, 59, budget director

From Jon Abbott

gundersonDear WGBH colleagues,

It is with great sadness that we share the terrible news that our colleague Valerie Gunderson has passed away. It came as a dreadful shock when we learned of her death on Saturday. It’s our understanding that she died in her sleep. She left us far too soon at the age of 59.

Valerie was a key member of the ’GBH family for more than 25 years—for the last many years as Director of Budget Operations. All those who worked with her know what a special person she was. She was passionate about WGBH and took enormous pride in working here. Her belief in ’GBH’s impact and accomplishments came through in everything she did. She built a wide network of friends and admirers at every level and in every ’GBH department. She was thoughtful, witty, whip smart (as she proved when her team shared the trophy just weeks ago at the WGBH spelling bee) and, colleagues recall, always there with a comforting shoulder. She was known for wearing a shade of purple every day. To speak of her in the past tense is simply surreal.

Valerie played a critical role in stewarding our annual budget planning and forecasting, monitoring all budgets and ably assuring that the Foundation finished every fiscal year on target. We relied on her leadership in helping guide and track our special R&D investments on new projects, supporting innovation with our editorial teams.

Valerie came to WGBH after a tour of what she called “off-off-off-Broadway” acting, while also working for Columbia Pictures. Her stories from that experience were legendary and hilarious. She left the stage and New York to focus on a public service MBA at BU with the specific goal of landing a job at WGBH. In fact, she wrote her Master’s thesis on WGBH and its impact on the state and the country. She called ’GBH her dream destination and knew it was the place for her. And it was. Valerie started off in the Budget Office, then served as Business Manager for the launch of The World until returning to head up the Budget team.

Valerie loved France and traveled there often with her husband Ted. They enjoyed exploring Beaune and had a large community of friends there. She was a very proud Hoosier, growing up in Fort Wayne, attending Indiana University in Bloomington, and returning frequently to visit family and friends. She and her husband made their home in Harwich, but Valerie kept an apartment in Brighton to avoid the daily commute. She volunteered her time and financial skills with the Brighton Main Streets program.

In times like these, our sense of community is heightened as together we try to make sense of the tremendous loss of someone so vibrant, in the prime of her life. Valerie’s family is planning a celebration of her life on the Cape, and we’re planning a gathering here at ’GBH where we can share our remembrances; QuickNooz will advise when that’s been scheduled. Condolences may be sent to Valerie’s husband (Ted Osiecki, 2 Locust Grove Rd, Harwich, MA 02645) and, in lieu of flowers, her family welcomes donations to her favorite charities: Angell Animal Medical Center in Boston ( or HopeHealth Hospice in Cape Cod (

We can honor Valerie by showing special kindness to each other, and especially to her closest associates, as we grapple with this sudden and untimely loss.

In shared sadness,

Jon, Ben, and Vinay

Jon Abbott, WGBH CEO and President
Ben Godley, COO and Executive Vice President
Vinay Mehra, Chief Financial Officer

Pierre Capretz, 89, French in Action creator

Pierre CapretzFrom

Pierre Capretz, the Yale University French professor who created the quirky and at times controversial WGBH language-learning series French in Action, died April 2 at 89.

Capretz, a French native who moved to the U.S. in 1949, developed the educational foundation for French in Action while teaching at Yale, where he incorporated audio and visual materials into his classes. In 1985, the Annenberg/CPB Project, a learning-media funder formed by CPB and the University of Pennsylvania’s Annenberg School of Communications, funded production of the dramatic, soap-opera–style TV series.

The show followed the romance between an American student studying abroad in Paris and his French love interest. It was filmed in France with native French speakers, including no English.

“At first that kind of surprised a lot of people: how can someone who only speaks English learn French that way?” said Lynn Marie Smith, a senior project officer at the Annenberg/CPB Project and Capretz’s chief contact for the series. “But it started to work.”

Each episode introduced a concept of the French language through dialogue between characters, reinforced by repetition and written classroom assignments. The series of 52 half-hour episodes aired on public TV stations nationwide and was used in French curricula at thousands of colleges.

But the show also provoked debate over its depiction of men and women. Three female students at Yale filed a sexual-harassment grievance with university officials in 1990 over the curriculum, arguing that the program taught phrases to help men pick up women. In addition, the students said the series’ male point of view objectified the body of its female actor.

“I think it caught everybody off guard,” Smith said of the accusations. “I’m as feminist as anyone. I saw it as comedy.”

At the time, Capretz told the New York Times he “wouldn’t change any of it,” but Yale’s French department committee thought differently and ruled that the course material should be changed. The material remained the same, however, after French teachers came to Capretz’s aid. Educators defended the film and its contents and continued to use the curriculum, according to Michele McLeod, senior program officer for content and communications at Annenberg Learner, the successor to the Annenberg/CPB Project.

Capretz, who was also the director of the Yale Language Laboratory, retired from teaching in 2003. He and French in Action’s cast attended a 25th-anniversary reunion of the show at Yale in 2010.

Mary Feldhaus-Weber: Her theatre, films, and graphic work

Mary Feldhaus-Weber — she of the soft, light voice, twinkling, teasing eyes and mischievous smile — is no more. She passed away at dusk, as Magic Hour drew to a close, on Sunday, October 6, 2013.

Mary had a distinguished history in theater, film and, most recently, the graphic arts.

Mary hailed from South Dakota. Her dramatic work first was published in Arthur Ballet’s “Playwrights for Tomorrow”. She shared the volume with Megan Terry and Jean-Claude van Italie, forerunners along with her in the avant-garde theatre of 20th-century America. Her play, The Virgin, the Lizard and the Lamb — unlikely, whimsical combination, no? — was a meditative tone-poem about belief and Presence — Incarnation, perhaps, would be a better word. Deborah Jowitt, the noted dance critic for The Village VOICE, danced the part of the Virgin at its New York première.

Watch Mary Feldhaus-Weber’s
I Wish I May I Wish I Might at
WGBH Open Vault.

It was only natural that her works with their inherent movement—coruscating, vaporous conceptions floating about an idiosyncratic center—would find their way to the medium of film. Michael Rice, inspired WGBH Program Manager, shared childhood memories with Mary and it was he who invited her to WGBH, Boston’s vanguard television station, as a Rockefeller Artist-in-Residence. Her assignment was simple — to expose herself to TV, to drink it all in and to create challenging works for the new medium.

That she surely did.

Film was her natural medium — and she loved to experiment. She gravitated to the experimental edge of video/broadcast television. She created, with Rick Hauser, John Morris, gus solomons jr and Peter Downey a two-screen stereo color (new, for the time) dancework for broadcast television called CITY/motion/space/game. Mary took some 16.5 hours of interviews with Gus and crafted his words, taped in numerous sessions throughout the city in drastically varying venues, into a poem that was interspersed with John’s fabulous musical score — itself made of fragments of some 14 hours of sounds from the city — clanging metal of junkyards, traffic sounds, bird song, patterned footsteps on stairs at brutalist Prudential Center and along the damped-down allées of a leafy Boston Garden.

Screen Shot 2013-10-21 at 4.10.20 PMThe program received the very first PBS Broadcast Award for Excellence. Team members became the stunned possessors of a little black box sealed in reflective plastic and inhabited by a tiny flashing red light (that eventually dimmed as the battery languished.). Not so, the piece — it still is riveting, insistent, clamorous.

Before C/m/s/g, Mary collaborated with Rick Hauser on Nine Heroes, a lovely documentary piece on remarkable ordinary people who just happened to have risked their lives with no strings attached to save others. It was Mary who said, “Heroism is a brass band.” So Mary and Rick got permission from the Salvation Army to use their recordings for the score for the piece. It received the Gabriel Award and was nominated for a national Emmy.

Mary was inspired. Her other programs were fearless–she chronicled a dying woman’s last months of life in JOAN ROBINSON: One Woman’s Story. The film was harrowing, unrelenting and indescribably touching. For this, she received that year’s highly respected Columbia DuPont Award for Excellence in Broadcast Television.

She was able also to adapt her fairy tales — retellings of the classics, BLUE, RED, GOLD — into lovely filmic tone-poems. She instigated a quirky, two-screen adaptation of the Oedipus myth, ROYAL FLESH — totally improvised, and recorded in over-driven fragmented video as a two-screen TV drama. She did an Annie Oakley biography, too, as part of an ambitious projected series on formidable women.

After Mary’s brain injury from a car accident in late 1979, (the car in which she was riding was struck by a drunk driver), she came to write a chapter in Willard & Spackman’s Occupational Therapy text book. The 10th Edition has Mary’s painting on the cover (publication February, 2003). The most recent Update is in the 11th Edition (published March 1, 2008). Her chapter is called “Excerpts from the Book of Sorrows, Book of Dreams,” in which she describes her process of living with brain injury.

Since there were no at-home services for people in her situation in the year after her injury, the head of Occupational Therapy at Boston University, Anna Dean Scott, volunteered to help. She also guided her OT students to visit Mary and take dictation, since at the time, Mary couldn’t write. The early part of Mary’s chapter is from this time. As a result of this ground-breaking work of OT for the brain-injured, the field moved forward. Mary’s chapter includes color plates of her powerful paintings, which she created to help her make sense of what happened to her.

A unique vision.

We bear her homage.


Lee Tanner, 82, lens captured pulse, personalities of jazz

As a boy in the late 1930s, living with his mother and two aunts in Roxbury, Lee Tanner heard the music and musicians he would bring into focus with his camera a quarter century later.

“I first tuned into jazz by a chance twist of the radio dial,” he wrote in the introduction to “Images of Jazz,” a 1996 collection of his photographs.

Camera in hand, Mr. Tanner spent nights in the 1960s photographing musicians at a variety of Boston venues, some famous and some now fading from the memories of all but the most faithful fans. Chet Baker, movie-star handsome, holds his trumpet at The Jazz Workshop in a 1966 photo. Thelonious Monk’s hands address the piano keys in a series of four close-up shots in the WGBH-TV studios in 1968. Miles Davis plays a muted trumpet at Symphony Hall the same year.

“I go for the spontaneity of the moment,” Mr. Tanner told the Globe in 1996. “What I’m looking for is the drama, and whether it’s excitement or repose really depends on what shows up. Nothing in the book is a posed studio picture. Even the pictures that look posed were just caught at the moment.”

Mr. Tanner, a metallurgist and scientist who had worked in laboratories from Boston to California, died of complications from Alzheimer’s disease Saturday in Mark Twain Convalescent Hospital in San Andres, Calif. He was 82 and lived in Sonora, Calif.

Miles Davis, Symphony Hall 1968

“In all of his photographs, Lee Tanner makes vivid the sheer energy of jazz — the life force,” critic and columnist Nat Hentoff wrote in the introduction to “Images of Jazz,” adding that “Tanner’s gift is knowing the moment at which the musician tells his own story — and not only in notes.”

Mr. Tanner’s time in Boston was comparatively brief: several years during childhood in the 1930s and early ’40s and slightly more than a dozen years as an adult, mostly in the 1960s. The photographs he shot, though, enshrined musicians and venues that were part of Boston’s jazz history.

For a couple of years in the 1960s, WGBH-TV ran a live show simply called “Jazz,” which evolved into “Mixed Bag,” a roster of musicians as eclectic as the name suggests. Mr. Tanner coproduced “Mixed Bag” for two years with David Atwood, who also directed the show and is now an independent producer and director.

Mr. Tanner had forged relationships with musicians while rubbing shoulders with them in clubs. “I could literally get on top of the musicians to photograph them,” he told the Globe. That intimacy helped him coax many musicians into the TV studio.

“Lee, because of his photography, knew these groups and went after them to get them on the show,” Atwood recalled. “Lee was great. He was wonderful with the groups. He was wonderful to work with.”

“Mixed Bag” went off the air after two years, a victim of low ratings, but Mr. Tanner kept shooting. At WGBH, the studio lights afforded him the opportunity to add nuance to the shadows falling on the musicians. In clubs, advancements in film quality allowed his camera, without a flashbulb, to capture images that could not have been shot a couple of decades earlier.

“For me, available-light photography was preferable to that of using auxiliary lighting sources,” he told Jerry Jazz Musician in a 2002 interview posted online.

Ambient light “brought life to the images,” Mr. Tanner said, and “the movement and slightly out-of-focus, grainy quality all added to the emotional impact of the work.” He added that “when a musician really got into something special, I was often able to capture it. That is what brought great pleasure to the work. It essentially was an improvisation in the visual that went along with the improvisation of the music.”

Born in New York City, Mr. Tanner was the only child of Vladimir Chenkoff and Enid Tanner. His mother was a milliner and his father was an artist who created posters for the movies of directors Charlie Chaplin, John Ford, and Howard Hawkes. They divorced when Mr. Tanner was young and he moved with his mother to Boston.

“My exposure to live jazz was at the downtown RKO Boston theater,” he wrote in the “Images of Jazz” introduction. “I would pack a lunch so that I could spend the whole day there, watching show after show with delight.”

A job at Lord & Taylor took mother and son back to New York, where Mr. Tanner graduated from Stuyvesant High School and from New York University with a bachelor’s degree in engineering. He spent two years doing research in the US Army and graduated with a master’s in metallurgy and materials science from the University of Pennsylvania in 1958. Jobs took him to Chicago and to Boston, “where the jazz scene was bustling,” he wrote.

There was Connolly’s Stardust Room in Roxbury, and The Jazz Workshop and Paul’s Mall on Boylston Street. Jazz even found its way into the Combat Zone. “There was a sudden clampdown for a period in 1963 on all of the strip joints,” he recalled in the 1996 Globe interview. “For about six months, the clubs had jazz bands alternating with strippers who didn’t really strip. . . . When I came in with my camera the first time, I remember them telling me ‘You can’t take pictures of the girls.’ ”

“I look at photographs he shot with this Mamiya twin lens reflex, and you figure, he was hand-holding this in these dark clubs,” said his daughter Lisa Tanner, a photographer in Los Angeles. “It’s pretty amazing he got the shots he did.”

Mr. Tanner’s first marriage, to Lucia Stone, ended in divorce.

In the early 1970s, his scientific work took him to laboratories in California, where he lived the rest of his life.

In addition to his daughter, he leaves his wife, Linda Brandt Boam Tanner; another daughter, Dina Hausman of Trumbull, Conn.; and a granddaughter, along with stepchildren and step-grandchildren.

In 2010, the Los Angeles-based Lucie Foundation, which celebrates achievement in photography, honored Mr. Tanner for documentary photography.

Down Beat magazine began publishing his work in 1958. His photos also appeared in publications such as Rolling Stone, American Photo, and Popular Photography, along with the jackets for record albums and CDs.

Mr. Tanner published three additional books: “Dizzy,” in 1994, which marked the 75th year of trumpeter and composer John Birks Gillespie; “Images of the Blues” in 1998; and “The Jazz Image: Masters of Jazz Photography,” in 2006.

“First and foremost he was a fan of the music, and that’s why I think he gravitated toward photography,” his daughter Lisa said. “He loved jazz photography.”