Imagine turning brass WWII artillery shells into a saxophone. Literally. That’s the foundation of this Sax4Pax tenor from Adolphe Sax & Cie. Talk about a remarkable transition and a powerful humanitarian statement. The brainchild of Karel Goetghebeur, Sax4Pax (peace in Latin) began with WWI and WWII shell collection all over Europe. Then the shells were melted down, turned into brass sheets and finally formed into saxophones.
This particular tenor is a tribute to the owner’s father, William E. Gast, and bears a custom etching of him on the backside of the bell. Gast was a tank driver in the 743rd Tank Battalion during WWII and landed on Omaha Beach six minutes early in the first wave of D-Day. He fought through the entire war including the Battle of the Bulge and the liberation of Magdeburg, Germany. Ironically many of the shells collected for the S4P project were from a munitions factory located in Magdeburg. Imagine artillery rounds fired at my customer’s dad being transformed into his son’s new saxophone 70 years later.
The owner wanted to take this saxophone to the next level, so he turned to Aaron Barnard. Custom work included a complete set of handmade key guards and bell-to-body brace fabricated from hexagonal brass stock; handmade neck and bow guards; handmade receiver clamp with high-mass screw; numerous key modifications; re-contouring the walnut “pearls” made from a WWII Lee-Enfield rifle stock; custom mount for a Tino Schucht thumb rest; hugely-oversized AB domed brass resonators; Pisoni Pro pads; and a setup that is rock-solid and wide-open.
This tenor is figuratively a tank. It has serious weight given the heavy-gauge brass and puts out a sound that is so deep, booming and gnarly it’s hard to believe it’s still a tenor. The final result is an instrument that makes a profound point and tells a story that should never be forgotten.
One further note of interest, some of the shells fired at Bill Gast were made by a Jewish slave laborer with the name of Ernest Kan who was forced to work in the Magdeburg munitions factory. When the city was liberated and the doors to the factory were broken open, the first thing Kan saw when he was freed was a tank with the numbers 743 painted on it. Some 60+ years later, Kan and Gast met formally for the first time. They hugged each other, wept and became friends for the rest of their lives. Truly a miracle.
Read Ernest Kan’s story in his own words.
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