A Duet for a Lifetime: The Oral History of Philip and Patricia Morehead

In the world of classical and contemporary music, few partnerships are as enduring or as multifaceted as that of Philip and Patricia Morehead. Their story is a trans-continental sonata that moves from the intense classrooms of Nadia Boulanger in France to the bustling orchestra pits of Chicago, and finally to the serene lakes of Ontario.

This oral history reconstructs their journey through their own words and the historical record, capturing the voices of two musicians who have spent over half a century harmonizing—both on stage and off.

Part I: The French Connection (1960s)

The story begins not in the United States or Canada, where they would eventually build their careers, but in France. The setting is the legendary École d'Arts Américaines at Fontainebleau, the summer kingdom of the formidable pedagogue Nadia Boulanger.

Philip Morehead (Pianist, Conductor): I was a French major at Swarthmore originally, but music was always there. I’d played piano since I was four. But it was going to Fontainebleau that really set the course. That’s where you went if you were serious. And that is where I met Pat.

Patricia Morehead (Oboist, Composer): I was just twenty years old. I had come from Canada, having grown up in Winnipeg and Montreal, to study. I remember feeling like the "duck who jumped into the wrong pond" sometimes—I was always drawn to the oboe because of Peter and the Wolf, but the intensity of Boulanger’s world was something else entirely. Philip was there, studying, and we were all under that same spell of rigor that Boulanger cast.

Philip: She [Boulanger] didn’t just teach music; she taught you how to listen, how to be. We were young, in France, surrounded by history. It was inevitable that we would connect. We left France together and headed to Boston in 1965.

Part II: The Boston and Toronto Movements (1965–1981)

After their European prelude, the couple settled in Boston. Philip pursued graduate studies at Harvard and the New England Conservatory, while Patricia honed her craft as an oboist.

Philip: Boston was a whirlwind. I was working with the Tanglewood Festival Chorus, playing rehearsal piano for the Boston Symphony under heavyweights like Seiji Ozawa and Leonard Bernstein. It was an incredible education, just being in the room with those forces.

Patricia: And we started our family there. But the road eventually led us back north. Philip took a job in Toronto as the Coordinator of the Orchestral Training Program at the Royal Conservatory. We spent three years in Canada, which was a sort of homecoming for me. But the real turning point, the big movement in our symphony, was Chicago.

Part III: The Chicago Years and the Lyric Opera (1981–2015)

In 1981, the Moreheads moved to Chicago, a city that would define their professional lives for the next three decades. Philip joined the Lyric Opera of Chicago, eventually becoming the Head of Music Staff.

Philip: The Lyric was my life for over thirty years. I wore every hat you could imagine: music administrator, chorus master, assistant conductor. I covered conductors for massive productions—Die Meistersinger, Billy Budd. You have to be ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. It’s a high-pressure environment, but deeply rewarding. I remember conducting the premiere of Anthony Davis’s Amistad. It was thrilling to be part of bringing new opera to life.

Patricia: While Philip was deep in the opera world, I was finding my own voice in Chicago’s new music scene. I arrived in the fall of 1984 and went back to school at the University of Chicago to get my PhD in composition. I studied with Ralph Shapey and Shulamit Ran. It was a tough environment for women composers back then. I remember score selection committees where men would just toss out works by women, and I’d have to sneak them back into the pile.

Philip: Pat wasn’t just composing; she was organizing. She’s a force of nature.

Patricia: I saw a need for a dedicated ensemble for living composers. So, in 1987, Philip and I founded CUBE. We wanted to play music by Chicago composers, our peers.

Philip: CUBE became our shared project. I played piano, conducted, and did whatever was needed. We premiered hundreds of works. It was our way of contributing to the "now" of music, not just the museum pieces.

Part IV: The Creative Partnership

The dynamic of a husband-and-wife team in contemporary music is unique. Philip often found himself conducting Patricia’s complex compositions.

Patricia: I’ve written over fifty works, and Philip has been the conductor or pianist for many of them. He understands my musical language better than anyone. When I wrote Disquieted Souls for English horn, he conducted the premiere. He knows when to push the tempo and when to let the music breathe.

Philip: It helps that we respect each other’s musicianship implicitly. Although, she did surprise me recently. When we retired and moved to Ontario, I thought I was done with learning new instruments.

Patricia: (Laughs) I rented a bassoon for him as a Christmas present.

Philip: A bassoon! I was 75 years old! She said it would be good for my respiratory health. I hadn't touched a bassoon in fifty years, since I studied with John Miller. But, like everything else Pat suggests, I eventually agreed. Now I play in the Muskoka Concert Band.

Part V: Coda in the North (2015–Present)

In 2015, the Moreheads retired from the hustle of Chicago to the quiet beauty of Dwight, Ontario, near the Lake of Bays. But "retirement" is a loose term for musicians.

Patricia: We couldn't just stop. I’m playing oboe and English horn with the North Bay Symphony Orchestra. And I’m still composing. I recently wrote a piece called Voyage Across Centuries to honor Beethoven’s 250th birthday. It imagines Beethoven visiting North Bay through the eyes of the explorer Samuel de Champlain.

Philip: And I’m conducting for the Highlands Opera Studio and playing my bassoon. We are as busy as ever, just with a better view.

Patricia: It’s been a long voyage—from Paris to Chicago to the Canadian Shield. But the music has been the constant. That, and us.

Philip: Exactly. It’s always been a duet.