Photograph by Sofi Seck
Mark Overton started playing the saxophone “in fifth grade, like anybody else.” When he was working on a doctorate in molecular genetics at Washington University, he directed The Hot Docs, a big band comprising students, professors, and custodial staff from the med school. All this felt normal; lots of people interested in science and math love the hidden intellectualism of jazz improv, the cool framework of chord changes beneath a passionate riff. But while Overton was doing postdoctoral research and publishing first-author papers, he and his wife, Elke (also a saxophonist), set up a website, saxquest.com, for buying and selling vintage saxophones. As it took off, so did his magnificent obsession. By the time he rose to give a talk on molecular genetics at the Salk Institute, the saxophone’s wailing nearly drowned his colleagues’ polite questions.
He quit science and in 2007 opened Saxquest on Cherokee Street, selling the most coveted saxophones in the world. He hired master craftsmen who could restore a dinged, clouded old sax to silver-plated splendor. He found exactly the right Japanese or Brazilian reeds, their texture varying with each crop of cane, for St. Louis’ professional jazz musicians (and talented amateurs, like the late sculptor Ernest Trova).
Last June, Saxquest blew several of its own horns to announce the grand opening of the Saxophone Museum upstairs. “It’s not the kind of museum where you just walk in and look,” Overton warns. “We have a whisper room, so if someone wants to play on an old 1850s Adolphe Sax, they can go in and play.”
Sax, whose father made instruments for the king of the Netherlands, invented his namesake in 1846. “His intent was to develop an instrument that mimicked the human voice,” Overton explains. “There’s a lot of expression with a sax, in terms of bending pitch and notes—much like the singing voice.” Classical musicians recoiled in horror, and Sax died broke. But in the Roaring ’20s, the saxophone’s frank illegitimacy won the day, and its musicality became so obvious even the symphony orchestras held the door open.
The ’20s were the heyday for the Conn saxophone, the first made in this country. It was made at the instigation of U.S. Sen. C.G. Conn: “He got Congress to agree that all military bands should have a plethora of saxophones,” Overton says, amused, “and of course all the contracts went through the Conn Co.” He holds up a Conn-O-Sax in F, one of probably 25 in existence: “I call this Conn’s foolhearted attempt to replace the English horn.” Then he moves on to an Artist-model Conn: Its engraved tracery entwines Pan, a fife-and-drum corps, and a giant dragon hip enough to be wearing an earring, with a monkey sitting on his horns.
“Most of the engravers worked for cash,” Overton says, “and most were drunks.”
These horns aren’t for sale, and all the liquor in the world couldn’t re-create them today. But the vintage horns downstairs and online? “We buy from all over the world,” Overton says. “It’s definitely the most extensive vintage site out there. Horns from the ’30s, ’40s, and ’50s were all hand-assembled, so a lot of craftsmanship went into each one, and they do seem to have a difference in sound.” Are today’s more uniform horns better in any technical ways? “Not really. They pretty much had the sax figured out by 1950.”
The Selmer company modernized the instrument, Overton says, and its Marc VI, resonant and fluid, is the most coveted sax today. He’s got dozens of them for sale. He also fields a regular stream of bizarre requests: for a horn with the serial numbers of somebody’s birth date, or a serial number that adds up to 13.
Will he ever return to molecular biology? “Not unless I have to,” he admits. The Hot Docs’ days are over; he now plays with the Original Knights of Swing and a jazz sextet called Cool Blue. “This kind of is a dream, to walk in and be surrounded by saxophones every day. When I think about it, I think, ‘Goddamn. This is pretty cool.’”
Even before the museum opened, tiny Saxquest had become an international destination. “We had two guys fly in from Italy,” Overton says. “They’d based their whole trip to St. Louis on coming to Saxquest and buying a saxophone.” He grins. “When they left, we told them where Grant’s Farm was.”
Doug Lawrence, who plays tenor sax for the Count Basie Orchestra, got off a tour bus and took a taxi to Saxquest; he caught up with his orchestra in Colorado.
“We’re not the place for a fifth-grade student to come,” Overton concludes.
Unless he’s looking to get obsessed.
The Saxquest Saxophone Museum is located at 2114 Cherokee. On June 13, join them for Saxquest Buffet Crampon Day, which includes a live performance by the Oasis Saxophone Quartet, as well as a competition for local high-school clarinet and sax players, with the winner taking home either a $3,000 Buffet saxophone or clarinet or a $1,000 college scholarship. The event is free and open to the public; visit saxquest.com or call 314-664-1234 for more information on specific times.
