Alice Schwab Combes

SALISBURY — It is with heartfelt sorrow that we announce the passing of Alice Schwab Combes, beloved mother, grandmother, friend, educator, leader, and protector of mountains. Alice passed away on Dec. 21, 2024, surrounded by the love of her daughter, Andrea, son-in-law, Eric, and her grandchildren, Mary August, Axel and Berit.
Born on Oct. 26, 1946, to Gustav and Josephine Schwab, Alice grew up in Garrison, New York where she attended primary and middle schools and later was a proud graduate of the Emma Willard School in Troy, New York. In 1966, Alice gave birth to her daughter, Andrea, and spent the next two decades living in the Boston area before moving to Danbury in 1988. Ultimately, she found her way to spend time in East Greenwich, Rhode Island, to be close to her family. Her last years were spent snuggled in her cozy Vermont home in Rochester.
Alice’s academic accomplishments were nothing short of impressive because if Alice was going to do something, she was going to do it right: a BA from UMass Boston, two master’s degrees, and multiple post-graduate certificates in Reading, Special Education, School Psychology, and Neuropsychology. The crown jewel of her education was her Doctorate of Education from Nova Southeastern University.
Her career as an educator spanned over 35 years, with her first years working with students struggling with learning and emotional difficulties in Quincy, Massachusetts. She then moved to Danbury, where she worked as a School Counselor and School Psychologist in neighboring Ridgefield for another twenty years. Alice acted as an unparalleled advocate for her students; throughout her career, she never allowed her students to simply meet expectations, she encouraged them to find meaningful challenges, and explore every educational opportunity available to them. Her boundless dedication to assist her students to find scholarships, jobs, training programs and travel opportunities is reflected by how often her former students have returned to share their successes and appreciation. After retiring from Ridgefield, Alice couldn’t stay away from her true calling and returned to work in Seekonk, Massachusetts for five more years as a school psychologist. At every school she worked, Alice was valued by her colleagues not only for her expertise and experience as an educator but for her wicked sense of humor, boundless energy, slight irreverence for the rules, crazy earrings and her exemplary skills and work ethic.
Beyond the classroom, Alice’s leadership as Director and President of Mount Riga, Inc. in Salisbury, was legendary. As MRI President, Alice boldly led multiple initiatives to provide environmental safeguards to protect the forest and lakes as well as fostering community engagement and connection. She fiercely protected and nurtured “her” beloved mountain, ensuring that its beauty and peace would be passed down for generations. At any given moment, Alice could be seen yanking dreaded invasives from the side of the road, planting daylilies along fences, or leading a rambunctious crowd of children with lawn games. You were sure not to miss her as she came speeding up the mountain road, usually with a pack of dogs and a grandchild or three in the back of her pickup truck. There wasn’t a community event or party that she didn’t attend with joyful exuberance. Her cabin was her beloved sanctuary, and Alice enthusiastically invited friends, colleagues, and the occasional hunky hiker from the Appalachian Trail to visit (and work on) her beloved Shack.
Alice wore many hats throughout her life— educator, travel guide, corporate president and ski ambassador among others. She co-founded the educational travel company Geo-Vista and spent 15 summers teaching reading skills at Salisbury Summer School. But, her most meaningful role was as mother and grandmother. Alice loved her daughter with a strong and unconditional loyalty, only to be equaled (sometimes surpassed) by her love for her grandchildren. Alice and Andrea were each other’s strongest supporters, cheerleaders, and absolute best friends.
Her grandkids, Mary August, Axel, and Berit, were the light of her life. Alice adored them fiercely, teaching them to ski moguls, jump somersaults, appreciate the fine art of pancake-making, and slow down with a little bite of chocolate. Her cabin, her mountain, and her life were always open for adventure. Sometimes a little too much adventure, as in the time their mother learned Alice let them ride the roof of her Astro Van. She gifted them with a childhood of unforgettable experiences like visits to the American Girl Doll Store in New York City, snow sledding with huskies, and even a trip to Paris. That was Alice—a generous spirit, full of joy and spontaneous fun.
Filled with curiosity about the world around her, Alice explored the world both solo and with friends, often seeking out the most delicious food and interesting people. She was never shy about offering her opinions, especially if the subject was current events or how the world should be run (which, in Alice’s mind, was always better with more tea and useless things from TJ Maxx). If you find yourself in need of a life-sized ceramic dalmatian sculpture or a three-foot-tall painted Humpty Dumpty, please call her daughter.
Alice is survived by her daughter, Andrea W. Combes and her son-in-law, L. Eric Olsson, and her grandchildren, Mary August, Axel and Berit Olsson. Over the years, she gathered a devoted pack of beloved dogs, including Benjamin, Coalie, Otis, Max and Samantha with whom she is now most likely sitting, reading her New York Times Sunday Edition, opining about the state of the world and how much better she would make it if she were in charge. And let’s not forget her many wonderful friends, who will always remember Alice for her laughter, her loyalty, and her zest for life.
A private burial service will be held by the family. However, in full Alice fashion, there will be a celebration of Alice’s extraordinary life at the mountain she loved so much, where we will raise a cup of tea (or something stronger) in her honor. In lieu of flowers, Alice would have preferred you share a laugh, taste something delicious, go on an adventure, wear a bold pair of earrings, and, if you can’t resist, definitely buy something outrageous from TJ Maxx.
Alice’s spirit will live on in the mountains, in the many lives she has touched, and in every laugh, swim in the lake, and ski slope we conquer from here on out.
Ruth Franklin and Ileene Smith in conversation at Congregation Beth David in Amenia.
Congregation Beth David in Amenia hosted a conversation on the enduring legacy of Anne Frank, one of the 20th century’s most iconic figures. Ruth Franklin, award-winning biographer and critic, shared insights from her highly acclaimed book “The Many Lives of Anne Frank” with thought-provoking questions from Ileene Smith, Editorial Director of the Jewish Lives series. This event, held on July 23 — the date Anne Frank would have turned 96 — invited the large audience to reconsider Anne Frank not just as the young writer of a world-famous diary, but as a cultural symbol shaped by decades of representation and misrepresentation.
Franklin and Smith dove right in; Franklin reading a passage from the book that exemplified her approach to Anne’s life. She described her work as both a biography of Anne Frank and a cultural history of the diary itself, a document that has resonated across the world.
“The diary,” Franklin explained, “has been appropriated in ways that sometimes obscure the reality of who she was and the historical context of her life.” By weaving together different perspectives, including testimonies from those who knew Anne or whose lives were shaped by her, Franklin sought to rehumanize a figure who has, for better and worse, been turned into a symbol.
Franklin’s book examines the many faces of Anne Frank that have appeared in the public consciousness: the girl whose diary became a universal symbol of the Holocaust, the teenage diarist whose words offer an optimistic glimpse of humanity, and the historical figure whose Jewish identity has at times been obscured in favor of a broader, universal message. Franklin highlighted how Anne’s legacy was shaped by her father, Otto Frank. Many of Otto’s decisions have been viewed as controversial such as removing passages that could have alienated potential readers. While often criticized, Franklin suggested that his editorial work was driven by the desire to reach the broadest possible audience.
“I think we have to be so generous in thinking about Otto Frank and the choices that he made,” said Franklin. “He made the decision that he wanted the diary to be read by the greatest number of people possible. He wanted Anne’s message to go out into the world and work, as he said, against prejudice, understood in the widest possible sense. The Anne Frank House today in Amsterdam is carrying on his mission in making Anne’s story relatable and accessible and comparing it to many other different kinds of prejudice around the world. Not everybody agrees with this approach, but that’s what he decided to do.”
The conversation turned to a quote from author Cynthia Ozick, who argued that Anne’s story has been “vulgarized, distorted, and infantilized” in adaptations of the diary, particularly those created for mass consumption. While acknowledging the validity of Ozick’s concerns, Franklin pushed back. The desire to make Anne’s story accessible to a global audience, Franklin suggested, began with Anne herself, who rewrote her diary with an eye toward future readers who might not understand her specific historical context.
The conversation also delved into the profound grief and ambivalence Otto Frank must have felt as he worked to preserve his daughter’s legacy. Franklin’s expressed deep empathy for him, burdened with making Anne’s diary into something more than a personal testament. “He was working with a tragic loss, with an immense responsibility,” Franklin noted.
The evening’s discussion expanded to include the contentious debate over the graphic version of Anne Frank’s diary, which has been banned in several U.S. states. Critics of the graphic adaptation have condemned it for including depictions of Anne’s developing sexuality, citing them as “pornographic.” Franklin pointed out that this outrage stems from “the intersection of homophobia and anti-Semitism” in today’s political climate, highlighting how Anne’s legacy continues to be embroiled in ongoing cultural and political struggles. “The books that are most frequently banned in the country right now are those that have to do with LGBTQ content.This is a serious issue of the Republican Party persecuting gay people and trans people more generally,” said Franklin.
Smith pointedly asked Franklin about what is widely considered the most famous quote from the diary: “In spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Franklin responded, “In many ways, Anne Frank was an optimistic person and that quote is an accurate reflection of who she was. At the same time, that quote is incomplete. It actually comes in the middle of a much longer passage in which she describes feeling hopeless about the future of the world.” Franklin continued, “That quote is often dismissed by Holocaust scholars or other people who have said with a lot of confidence that if Anne Frank had survived the camps to write about it, she would no longer have believed that people are truly good at heart. My own position, which is the perspective I adopt in this book, is that none of us can know what a surviving Anne Frank would have thought about anything at all, and it is irresponsible to speculate about it.We simply can’t go there. “
As the conversation concluded, the room was filled with a sense of reflection and appreciation. The crowd was invited to continue the conversation in the Community Room, where Franklin signed copies of her book, which were available through Oblong Books. Her visit left attendees with much to ponder about how we interpret history, memory, and the cultural artifacts that endure.
Yuja Wang performs with the TMCO and Andris Nelsons.
Sunday, July 20 was sunny and warm. Nic Mayorga, son of American concert pianist, the late Lincoln Mayorga, joined me at Tanglewood to hear Yuja Wang play Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 16. I first saw Wang on July 8, 2022, when she filled in for Jean-Yves Thibaudet on the opening night of Tanglewood’s summer season. She virtually blew the shed down with her powerful and dynamic playing of Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1.
Nic was my guest last season on July 13, when Wang wowed us with her delicate interpretation of Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4. We made plans on the spot to return for her next date in Lenox.
As we found our seats there was a buzz in the Shed. A huge crowd had gathered. Nic went for tall cans of cold mineral water — essential. The Tanglewood Music Center Orchestra was on stage. The door opened, and out stepped Wang in a brilliant shear and sparkling silvery light dress befitting the warm day. Conductor Andris Nelsons followed. They greeted concertmaster Nathan Cole, and settled in.
The first movement, an Andandtino -Allegretto - Andandtino, is one where a 22-year-old Prokofiev distinguishes himself as an entirely new breed of concerto composers. It is far from typical. There is no conventional drama between opposing forces of piano and orchestra — just a light, gentle phrase with intentionally muted strings (pizzicato) and clarinets, giving way to Chopin-like left-hand figures from the piano, and a lengthy, divine melody in the right. There is beauty in this.Wang is in charge.
She transitioned to a faster march section that evolved into an extended solo played with great precision and attention to detail. The soloist had the floor until a raucous return of the full orchestra, followed by a pianissimo recollection of the opening. The two great forces now united, everyone was on the edge of their seat.
The second movement is a Scherzo: Vivace. Here, Wang showed her mastery over one of the most challenging sections — a relentlessly demanding moto perpetuo where the soloist must play unbroken sixteenths, both hands, in octave unison. Nic agreed that one must see this type of playing live to fully appreciate the artist. The orchestra added wonderful, subtle color and counter moods to this virtuoso spotlight. Wang’s command of the minutest shifts in tempo was astounding. The piano, here, produces melodies but also becomes a percussion instrument of the highest order.
In the third movement, an Intermezzo: Allegro moderato, the soloist gets a breather from the speedy tempos — but not quite, as she must alternate between delicacy and great force in figures while the orchestra layers a backdrop of a heavy march. Wang displayed her versatility here, commanding the tone, volume and moods as dictated by Prokofiev’s adventuring. Tempos changed. Everything changed. Yet throughout, each mini stanza and bar stood out — authentic, independent, real. Likely exactly what Prokofiev had in mind, but likely to elude all but the finest musicians.
In the Finale: Allegro tempestoso, Prokofiev reverts to the more conventional opposition-of-forces theme — the piano trying to overwhelm the orchestra in a barrage of flittering bright passages offset by heavy-handed chords. Wang chose a more collegial approach here. She was firm but polite; it never felt like a struggle. This made the transition to the next idea — where clarinets and violas offer a contrasting tranquility — smooth as silk. The solo piano continued with elements of Russian folk music, joined by the orchestra, building intensity before another solo piano display, and then a traditional buildup to a sweeping conclusion.
I glanced over at Nic’s joy and bewilderment. A standing ovation was followed, with encore performances of selections from Sebelius’s 13 Pieces for Piano, Op. 76, No. 2: Etude; Schubert’s “Gretchen am Spinnrade,” D. 118, arranged by Liszt; and Horowitz’s Variations on a Theme from Carmen.
Prokofiev’s debut of this concerto in 1913 did not go over quite as well. Some in the audience expressed displeasure at his ideas, hissed and rushed out. But Prokofiev expressed his displeasure at their poor taste, played an encore nonetheless, and fanned the flames. Sometimes a genius from one generation is misunderstood in his time but vindicated generations later by audiences and musicians of a different era. Such is the case with Prokofiez, who had the last laugh. Yuja Wang has her place in this saga. That she performs with the young musicians of the Tanglewood Music Center Orchestra shows her generous nature and kind heart — she cares about the future of classical music.
If you are curious and like to travel, Wang will play Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 2 again several times this season: Nov. 13 at The Philharmonie de Paris; Dec. 4 and 5 at The Konzerthaus, Vienna; and Dec. 12 at The Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. I highly recommend it.