Classical Music Radio Icon Passes

Arthur would have scoffed at that title. Icon. He wasn’t much for titles, mantles, or even accolades. Too “effete”. He hated pomp or ceremony. Loathed pretension. Back in the late 90’s, the title “Chief Announcer” was suggested to Arthur at Minnesota Public Radio, and he smiled deliciously. That smile spoke a thousand words and you could hear it on the radio. Arthur had been the godfather, mentor, muse, and yes, chief for almost 40 years, not just at MPR, but to countless other broadcasters, and especially his audience. An official title was completely unnecessary.

It’s often overused, but Arthur was an original.

Arthur Hoehn is gone now. He passed away around 2:45pm on Saturday, March 12th, according to his family, ending his battle with lung cancer.

Minnesota Public Radio has posted a tribute here, with audio. Do me a favor. Read it. Listen.

I’m sure there will be more about Arthur published in the days ahead. There has to be. So few reach so many in a career and stay so far under the radar.

Stories abound among those who knew him behind the mic. I was lucky to be one – a truly wet-behind-the-ears kid from the Shenandoah Valley, 2 years into my broadcasting career, when I was asked to “spell” Arthur on Music Through the Night. He was used to doing 7 nights a week, 6 to 7 hour shifts for over 12 years. He chuckled when he saw me and embraced me when he heard me. I needed work. He was the deep baritone voiced, Dutch Uncle-coach to my knock-kneed boy tenor. His encyclopedic knowledge of the repertoire made mine look like a Sunday morning cartoon strip. I eventually moved into management, more to my strengths, becoming his supervisor, a surprise to us both. He was in my office in 2002 when he made his decision to retire. We both cried. He smiled and said, “There’s always softball.” Only Arthur could handle that segue.

As I type these words on a very dark and rainy Portland day, I can still hear Arthur’s clipped, aristocratic yet accessible, richly mellifluous voice, humming on-air, middle of the night, as someone like the Netherlands Wind Ensemble concluded a piece by Beethoven. Through a wry smile, a little anecdote about this or that followed, then a slight chuckle, an “…ah yes, keep it tuned,” and the music began anew. Music. Through. The. Night. For many of us, the music wouldn’t ever stop.

Old broadcasters never die, they just change frequencies. Arthur, I will keep it tuned and I’ll always remember.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Jack

Post script: Last year Arthur Hoehn, a true radio guy, with a career that included a stunning brief stint as Wolfman Jack’s sidekick, Fat Daddy Washington, on Mexico border radio, was inducted into the Minnesota Broadcasting Hall of Fame.