The most surprising thing about the Anchorage Symphony Orchestra's Young People's Concert last week was what it revealed about the group's maestro. Classy, born-to-wear-a-tux Randall Craig Fleischer, it turns out, is just a big ol' goofball in tails.

"He has a great sense of humor and loves making fun of himself,'' said Heidi Joyce, his wife of 21 years.

Joyce, a stand-up comic, cooked up the concert's occasionally slapstick script along with Fleischer "to show them that (classical music) isn't an inaccessible thing that a bunch of old white guys wrote,'' she said. "That it has relevance.''

In a film that began the show for about 900 elementary school students, Fleischer is seen happily kissing his reflection in a dressing room mirror and then looking down to discover he has forgotten his pants and is wearing only shorts. The children screamed in approval.

It's all part of a plan to introduce classical music to kids in a way that blasts a big hole in any highbrow preconceptions.

Entertaining the audience is his primary goal, Fleischer said.

"To bore them is a crime.''

'A GLORIOUS LIFE'

Even before Fleischer was hired as conductor in 1999, the symphony had heard of his and Joyce's concerts for young people, which they have performed all over the United States.

"There's no shortage of ham'' there, said symphony executive director Sherri Reddick.

Reddick said the concerts, for which the symphony charges $5 per child, barely break even. "They're certainly not a cash cow.'' But they're important because the kids are at the age where they'll be choosing instruments for middle school band.

And "of course, this is the future audience (for the symphony),'' Reddick said.

Considering the obvious passion Fleischer brings to his work -- reviewers often note his tendency on the podium to stand on tiptoe and shake his considerable head of hair -- it's interesting that he had no real interest in the field until relatively late in life.

He grew up a self-described jock in Ohio. His mother suggested singing with a choir in high school, and that led to attending the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, where he planned to become a high school choir director.

Then came a required class in conducting. Fleischer loved it, even though he had to work harder than others. His wife, for example, has "perfect pitch -- the witch,'' he joked. Since he doesn't, Fleischer had to laboriously train his ear.

In fact, the concept of talent doesn't hold much weight with Fleischer.

"I barely acknowledge the validity of the term,'' he said. "I know how hard I have to work to be talented.''

Luck, however, was a factor. He was able to work with Leonard Bernstein shortly before the great conductor died.

While Fleischer calls his musical life "absolutely glorious,'' it can be lonely. He learned the hard way, he said, that the "leader must have some distance from his troops'' to maintain authority within the symphony. That means little fraternizing between shows.

"Are you comfortable sitting alone on the tour bus?'' he recently asked a friend who expressed an interest in conducting. Even if others are standing, he said, the seats beside him will remain empty.

Still, "it's a small price to pay for a glorious life.''

YOUNG COMPOSERS

While he once dreamed of changing symphonic music, Fleischer said he now just hopes to apply his own stamp to the genre. He is driven to connect with his audience and help people "unlearn the myth that symphonic music is boring.''

With all the whooping and hollering and jumping and witty chitchat, there's no danger of anyone being bored at Young People's Concerts.

Even Fleischer's greeting upon taking the stage is laid-back: "Well, hi there,'' he tells the students.

Using familiar tunes ranging from "Happy Birthday" to the theme from the movie "2001: A Space Odyssey" ("Also Sprach Zarathustra" by Richard Strauss) to "Chopsticks," Fleischer and Joyce lead the children through lessons on the scale, rhythm and musical form. When Fleischer tells them the orchestra has every instrument "except the kitchen sink,'' someone emerges from behind the curtains to fling a stainless steel version onto the stage.

Fleischer, who calls his wife "brilliant and wonderful,'' gives Joyce most of the credit for their continual onstage banter.

"I'm not nearly that charming,'' he said.

When Fleischer attempts a serious moment, he's interrupted by a fellow in a hard hat pushing a broom.

"We were kind of wondering if we could play with the band,'' the "janitor'' asks.

He and another musician roll out a few garbage cans and begin an incredible percussive interlude, camping it up like Laurel and Hardy but igniting the audience while beating on each other's hard hats, the cans, the floor, whatever is handy.

The students scream as if the orchestra is a rock group.

Joyce then teaches the thoroughly jazzed crowd how to keep rhythm on the Atwood Concert Hall seats, even spinning around to beat on the seat backs. At one point, her own impressive head of hair swinging wildly, she seems totally lost in the music, whacking the heck out of her seat.

"I'm really goofy,'' the former music major and classical pianist admits.

By the end, with Fleischer's and Joyce's help, the students have written a composition, which they get to hear performed by the symphony.

"Congratulations, composers!'' Joyce and Fleischer shout at the finale before high-fiving each other and taking their bows.

One little girl thought the ending might have had a "few too many notes,'' but most of the students agreed with her friend: "I thought it sounded great!''

'END PRAYERFULLY'

Especially exciting to Fleischer is that famed Doors drummer John Densmore will play on the resulting CD.  He plans to bring that project to Alaska eventually.

Last year, as the country entered war with Iraq, Fleischer put together this year's Anchorage Symphony finale, a paean to freedom featuring works by Aaron Copland, Bernstein and John Adams. (That's Adams, the com poser of "Nixon in China" and other well-known pop-minimalist pieces, not John Luther Adams of Fairbanks, whose compositions are often reflective of the northern environment.)

Among the offerings Saturday will be Adams' "Short Ride in a Fast Machine'' and Copland's "Billy the Kid Suite,'' which Fleischer calls "one of the masterpieces of the 20th century,'' one that comes complete with gun battle. Will there be ballistic-style explosions during the concert?

"Oh, certainly,'' Fleischer said.

Fleischer calls the program unabashedly "American.'' But besides identifying himself as "deeply patriotic,'' he doesn't say where he stands on the conflict.

"It's a thin tightrope to walk,'' he said. "You can't be a responsible artist and not have a connection to world events.''

The goal is to put the music out there and "let everybody think about it,'' he said.

Special guests will include local soprano Kate Egan -- "I'm sure she'll be just glorious'' -- and members of the University Singers and Anchorage Concert Chorus joined by Juan-Carlos Hernandez, a member of the American Boychoir School in New Jersey.

"You can end a season lots of ways," Fleischer said. "Since we are a country involved in conflict, (we decided) to end this concert prayerfully.''

The final piece is from Bernstein's "Chichester Psalms," based on a Hebrew prayer that Fleischer used to hear sung at the temple he attended in Ohio. Its rough translation: "Isn't it wonderful when all humans live together in peace?"

In this month's symphony newsletter, Fleischer said he looks forward to concluding the season "with this notion that no matter what hateful things happen in this world, these genius statements of art remain unchanged.''

Arts editor Susan Morgan can be reached at 257-4587 or smorgan@adn.com.