[ARSCLIST] obituary - Franz Jolowicz, Discophile NYC

[Thomas Stern <sternth@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

 This may be of interest.  I remember many happy hours spent at the 
Discophile store, and many great recordings
I was introduced to by Franz Jolowicz.  It is sad to note his death.

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/12/04/arts/music/04jolowicz.html
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December 4, 2005


 Franz Jolowicz, 86, Dies; Owned a Noted Record Store

By MARGALIT FOX 
<http://query.nytimes.com/search/query?ppds=bylL&v1=MARGALIT%20FOX&fdq=19960101&td=sysdate&sort=newest&ac=MARGALIT%20FOX&inline=nyt-per>

Franz Jolowicz, the owner of the former Discophile record shop, a 
Greenwich Village institution that was for decades a mecca for classical 
record collectors, from the ardent to the insatiable to the merely 
obsessive, died on Nov. 8 at his home in the Village. He was 86.

The cause was complications of lung cancer, said Pat Payandeh, a 
longtime friend. Mr. Jolowicz leaves no immediate survivors.

Discophile, which opened in 1958, specialized in hard-to-find imported 
LP's. Mr. Jolowicz (pronounced JOLL-uh-wits), for years the manager 
there, bought the shop in 1976. It went out of business in 1984, not 
long after Tower Records opened a branch nearby.

Writing in The New York Times shortly before Discophile closed, Tim Page 
called it "possibly the finest record store in the world."

For its customers, many of whom flew in from distant cities, Discophile 
helped slake an acquisitive thirst so deep it verged on addiction. If 
you craved Toscanini's "Bohème" or Callas's 1954 "Norma," or Sviatoslav 
Richter's celebrated recital in Sofia, Bulgaria, in February 1958, then 
you headed to the shop at 26 West Eighth Street.

Discophile occupied a small semi-basement space a few steps below street 
level, and entering the store, with its vinyl-laden bins, was like 
stepping into a secret temple of music. Presiding as high priest was Mr. 
Jolowicz, whom former customers described variously last week as urbane, 
opinionated and, frankly, terrifying.

The air in the shop was thick with dissent. Staff members argued with 
staff members. Staff members argued with customers. Customers argued 
with customers. Since many staff members were former customers, lines of 
allegiance quickly blurred. (Customers with especially lowbrow taste 
were absent from the equation. Mr. Jolowicz exiled them to Sam Goody.)

"Shopping there was a very involving experience; you just didn't stand 
in line with your bundle," the playwright Terrence McNally, a regular 
Discophile patron, said in a telephone interview on Thursday. "If you 
wanted a new recording of 'Parsifal,' you'd have to ask, and that 
started a conversation: 'Which version do you want? The Solti? That's 
terrible!' "

Some people spent hours at the store with no intention of buying 
anything. They had simply come to kibitz.

In the 1960's and 70's, few foreign recordings were available in the 
United States in their original pressings. You could not simply walk 
into a record store and emerge with Hina Spani's "Lohengrin." But 
through its network of overseas connections - Mr. Jolowicz once wrote 
directly to Madame Mao Zedong, who mailed him a set of Chinese opera 
records - Discophile was able to obtain many of these.

"This was a store where you could buy three 'Tristan and Isoldes': the 
Angel one, the English EMI pressing or a German label," Mr. McNally 
said. "Exact same performance, but discophiles would argue which one had 
the superior sound."

The store also sold what were euphemistically called "privately issued 
discs" - recordings made covertly at concerts. For Mr. Jolowicz, it was 
a glorious thing to be a pirate king.

"These recordings create something new," he told The New York Times in 
1984. "In fact, many of the artists on our private discs are delighted 
that they were made. They think we're preserving history."

Dietrich Franz Jolowicz was born on Sept. 29, 1919, in Posen, Germany, 
now Poznan, Poland. The son of two prominent families, one Christian, 
the other Jewish, he was raised in Leipzig and as a young man made his 
way to Paris.

In World War II, Mr. Jolowicz served with the French Foreign Legion in 
North Africa and afterward worked with the American Red Cross in Italy. 
He came to the United States in 1951 and later attended the City 
University of New York.

After Discophile closed, Mr. Jolowicz held various jobs in and out of 
music. But for a select cadre of New Yorkers, he remained an indelible 
presence, so much so that he is mentioned in Mr. McNally's 1985 play 
"The Lisbon Traviata," about a fanatical opera collector.

As Mr. McNally explained:

"In the world of standing room at the Met or Carnegie Hall, when Lenny 
was doing the Mahler cycle, if anyone said 'Franz,' everyone would know 
who you were talking about."

Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company,