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John Wion’s musical journey began with the very first Australian Youth Orchestra program, an experience that set the stage for a remarkable musical career. After attending several National Music Camps and studying at the Melbourne Conservatorium, he played principal flute for the visiting New York City Ballet. This opportunity took him to New York, where he balanced a year of intensive study with work at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. A pivotal moment came when he was invited to substitute for a week with the New York Philharmonic—a breakthrough that launched his international career. 

Beyond his performing career, John devoted himself to shaping the next generation of musicians. From 1956 to 2007, he held principal flute positions with the New York City Ballet and New York City Opera and was a founding member of Leopold Stokowski’s American Symphony. As a Professor of Flute at the Hartt School, he influenced countless students. His expertise culminated in a nine-volume series of opera excerpt books, which helped flautists prepare for auditions and performances—an achievement recognised in the National Flute Association’s Newly Published Music Competition. 

We caught up with John to reflect on his time with AYO, the pivotal moments of his career, and the wisdom he’s gathered along the way. 

What are your fondest memories from your time at AYO? 

The only AYO flagship program I’ve been involved with is the very first one, which was held in Sydney. The concert I remember most clearly was the lunchtime concert at the David Jones store. For some reason, that’s the only vivid memory I have. It was the first time following up on the music camps, and John Bishop and Ruth Alexander had the idea of setting up a national youth orchestra. 

How did AYO influence your musical journey? 

The music camps definitely had an impact. The first time I played in a music camp blew my mind—it was an astonishing experience. We played Vaughan Williams’ Folksong Suite, and I was somewhere in the middle of the eight flutes in the orchestra. When John Bishop gave the downbeat, suddenly, there was this brilliant, grand sound. It took me a moment to lift my flute and join in. I was just so mesmerised by the orchestra. 

I remember my flute teacher convinced my mother to send me to these camps, and at fifteen, that sounded like the worst way to spend my time! But once I got there, it was truly a life-changing experience. I remember going home exhausted and feeling sad that I wasn’t in that environment anymore. I just laid around my mother’s home, listening to the recordings of the pieces we performed at the camps, reliving the experience. It was so much fun—meeting new people and seeing how the tutors fit right into the social setting. 

What was the most challenging moment in your career, and how did you overcome it? 

The overcoming part involves practice. It really is that simple. When I was starting out in New York, I was offered a chance to play with the Royal Ballet Touring Orchestra, but I didn’t do a very good job. I had solid technique, but by then, I had spent almost three years taking lessons without playing in any ensembles.  At the end of the tour, the contract made it clear that I wouldn’t be hired again due to my intonation. I was also playing on a new flute, so I think I just developed a poor ear. I worked incredibly hard with a tuning machine and sorted it all out. 

Other challenges came with hand problems. At 27, I started having issues with my right hand, and it took me several months to resolve them by practising in front of a mirror and using techniques to keep my fingers curved or separated. Ten years later, my left hand started causing more serious trouble. I never had to stop playing, but I always had to go into the pit before each act to assess which solos would be an issue and work through them. I worked with an Alexander Technique teacher—she truly saved my career. 

What is the highlight of your career? 

In 1960, I was taking a lesson in New York with Claude Monteux when the phone rang during the lesson. It was the New York Philharmonic, asking if he was available for a Mahler 9 concert, which required a massive flute section. He wasn’t available, as he was playing Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. The contractor asked if he knew anyone who could step in—and that’s how my career started. It was really special. You have to be in the right place at the right time. 

What advice would you give to young musicians today? 

Always do a double major. I had peers at the Melbourne Conservatorium whose second major was chemistry, engineering, or education. Some of them pursued successful musical careers, while others pursued different careers but kept music as part of their lives. Those are the happiest ones. You need to balance your aspirations with the advice others give you. The “big fish in a small pond” mentality can be very limiting. My advice to my students is this: You got into music school through talent, but you’ll only leave with a job through hard work.