Meet the Rubinsteins

Les Grands Amateurs de Piano wants me. They are a big amateur piano competition in France. I get mailings from them soliciting my performances. That makes me feel good, I have to say that!

It started when I was a competitor in the first Van Cliburn International Piano Competition for Outstanding Amateurs in 1999. I did not advance past the first round but apparently my Schubert and Bach were good enough for these French folks.

Merci beaucoup, Les Grands Amateurs de Piano!

I am getting to my point. Today my mailing from the French piano types contained this paragraph:

One of the Competition's most faithful members has, without doubt, been Mrs. Arthur Rubinstein. Closely associated with our competition since 1989, she has offered unflagging encouragement and support, and been a regular member of the jury. Her presence at our side has been continuous and always enthusiastic. "Arthur would have liked it," she once confided.

Wow, I thought, reading that.

Was Nela Rubinstein still alive?

It seemed impossible. But it sure sounded that way. And all I was thinking was, it would be nice to talk to her for my book on Leonard Pennario. Because he knew her, and he played for her once in Paris after Rubinstein died when she asked Leonard to come to the house.

Well, the bad news is, something must have been lost in translation, because Aniela "Nela" Rubinstein is no longer with us. She died age 93 in 2002.

The good news is, there is this sweet obituary which her family ran. It is more touching than the actual obituary which you can read here.

The other good news is, reading up on all this, I ran across this quote from old Arthur. Who, incidentally, is Arthur with an "h," not "Artur." I have a letter from him to prove it. He signed it Arthur. I am telling you.

Anyway, the quote. It is from a 1983 article in People magazine.

In his 93rd year, nearly blind and an invalid, Arthur Rubinstein, perhaps the most renowned pianist of the modern era, left his longtime wife, Nela, for Annabelle Whitestone, a petite blond secretary 50 years his junior. "To get to be as old as I am," Rubinstein said, "one must drink a glass of whiskey every day, smoke a long cigar and chase beautiful girls." His wife, the maestro complained, "kept telling me what not to do—don't eat this, don't smoke that. I was fed up."

"I was fed up." Can you believe that?

I could not find a good picture of Arthur and Nela Rubinstein but I did find a good one of ol' Arthur kissing Tallulah Bankhead while gossip columnist Hedda Hopper looked on. That is the picture up above!

Here is a picture of Aniela in the kitchen, probably while her husband was kissing Tallulah Bankhead. It makes me like Rubinstein's wife. That is my idea of a good time, too, hanging out in the kitchen.


Rubinstein died at 92. Nela made it to 93.

Whatever their difficulties, they must have done something right.

Faking it

Lots of entertaining talk is filling the Internet about an upcoming BBC documentary about the Joyce Hatto scandal. That is Hatto pictured above. She is the British pianist whose many recordings were later proven to be fakes.

The New Yorker ran what I consider to be the definitive account of the whole fantastic story which you can read here.

In this piano group on Yahoo! that I peek in on now and then, everyone is wrangling about whether this documentary should be made. The fakes were perpetrated by Hatto's husband, William Barrington-Coupe, and the question is whether the documentary glorifies what are, in effect, his criminal actions. Another question is whether Barrington-Coupe, now a sick old widower, should be prosecuted.

I am not interested in sorting all this out. I do know, working for newspapers, that a good story is a good story and this is certainly one.

Another thing, I think the scandal did nothing but good for the pianists whose recordings were cribbed. The one mentioned the most is the Hungarian pianist Laszlo Simon. He records on Naxos and because there are so many recordings to get through, I do not know if I looked at some of them twice. I sure will now!

What fascinates me is that Barrington-Coupe and Hatto were just so flagrant about this. Asked about how she could invariably do her recordings in one take, Hatto would huff, "I do my practicing at home." And it kills me how Barrington-Coupe, on the CD covers, would name orchestras and conductors who did not exist. It is like what we used to do in high school, writing term papers! We would make up books and authors who did not exist.

People are slinging around a lot of blame now, saying critics a long time ago should have known something fishy was afoot. I don't know, I tend not to blame them. You have a lot to listen to, you trust that the recording is genuine, nothing like this had ever happened before. These critics did what critics are supposed to do: They gave the music an honest listen. If all critics did simply that, the world would be a better place.

Here is what I am wondering about. I wonder if we will see more fakery in competitions.

I saw the movie "The Competition" ...


... only once a long time ago, but one thing I remember is that Amy Irving's teacher makes the recording that is sent in and gets Irving the spot in the competition. After that, Irving wins it on her own, but my point is, she gets in because of this scam.

All I can think is that with increasing reliance on the Internet, we will be seeing more of this kind of faking.

They will also have to figure out ways to guard against scams in e-competitions.

All kinds of things to wonder about, as you enjoy your Hatto recordings.

Now I am sure wishing I had one!

Moonlight and the Moonwalk

I had fun the other day writing on The Buffalo News' Artsbeat blog about how everyone is comparing Michael Jackson to Mozart, but it is more fun to compare him with Beethoven.

Let me say this: I do not actually think he should be compared to either one.

Please, I want everyone to understand this.

Michael Jackson was one part talent and a whole bunch of parts marketing and producers and packaging. I mean, Quincy Jones. Mozart and Beethoven got to be who they are without benefit of Quincy Jones and that is a big thing.

Plus as far as his songs go I just do not get it.

But as a game and a puzzle it is fun to draw up these comparisons. And on Facebook one of my Facebook friends added that Beethoven is famous for the Moonlight Sonata and Michael Jackson is famous for the Moonwalk!

Plus, Beethoven wrote the Emperor Concerto and Michael Jackson was the Prince of Pop! Someone else pointed that out.

Michael Jackson received advice on his career from Prince. Beethoven received advice on his career from Prince Lobkowitz! That comparison just occurred to me. It is eerie!

We could go on and on!

Music box magic

After writing about Orli Shaham the other day and linking to the Mozart E Minor Violin Sonata I found myself thinking about music that sounds like a music box.

That is because the theme of the second movement of that sonata, it is haunting in that peculiar simple, bell-like, singsong way. The main theme of the movement sounds like that and so does the middle section.

Saying that something sounds like a music box can be a compliment. There is something poignant about music boxes. Not all! But some. That is why music boxes appear in movies and dramas, often about the supernatural.

Here is Pennario playing the Chopin B minor waltz, Op. Post., which can remind me of a music box.

Here is a rondo that always makes me think of a music box. It is Beethoven's "Tempest" Sonata. Wilhelm Kempff is playing it here -- beautifully, I think.

Kempff, you will notice in the notes to that video, was born in the town of Jueterbog, Germany. That is the town that lent its name to the jitterbug!

Joke, joke!

Rondos sometimes have that music box thing going on because of their repetitive, turning nature. The last movement from Mozart's A minor sonata is music-box-like.

Look, in that video whoever writes the notes even comments on the music's haunting quality.

It is not only me!

The voices of virtuosi

So nice of Virtuoso Voices yesterday to mention what I wrote about Orli Shaham to all their followers, or whatever you want to call them, on Twitter! Every day I find myself thinking how small the world is getting.

Yesterday I had not quite grasped what Virtuoso Voices is. I thought it was someone like me sitting around in his or her pajamas finding quotes from musicians and zinging them around the Internet. But it turns out Virtuoso Voices is a kind of interesting business. They interview musicians and make the interviews available by subscription to classical music radio stations.

They also do promo spots.

That must explain when I tune in to WNED-FM and hear, "This is Thomas Hampson and you are listening to WNED-FM in Buffalo!"

And I am thinking: Wait, Thomas Hampson ...


... has not been here since I was 18!

It is fun to browse the Virtuoso Voices Web site. One thing they have is an extensive document on the do's and don'ts of interviewing musicians, which, I printed it out so I can keep it and refer to it. I am in print and they are in radio but it is nice to be able to learn from others' experiences.

They also have a long list of performers you can scroll down, and you will find little clips of them talking. It is fun just to hear their voices. You can occupy yourself for hours this way!

You can hear Leif Ove Andsnes, for instance, talking about Mozart: "There are so many voices, there is such energy."

And the site suggests: "Use this clip to enhance your introduction to Leif Ove Andsnes playing Mozart." That is a picture up above supposedly of Leif Ove Andsnes that I grabbed from some British singer's Web log because I could not resist it. This is a cute Web log! It is called Intermezzo.

Back to Virtuoso Voices. Here is Vladimir Ashkenazy sounding like quite the smoothie talking about Beethoven: "I am overwhelmed." That is what he says at the end, his voice trailing off.

Now if you hear that on your classical station you will know where it came from.

I love finding out how the radio business works.

And reflecting on how, every day, the world is getting smaller.

Silence in the hall

Cute quote from pianist Orli Shaham I picked up on Twitter:

"One time I would like to do like they do in figure skating. I want the audience to applaud every time I nail a difficult passage."

Ha, ha! I feel that way sometimes sitting at my desk. I want the audience to applaud every time I nail a difficult paragraph. I had a friend Rose who, we used to have a joke about that. We used to joke about people applauding us as we did our jobs.

Orli's quote came from a Twitter entity called Virtuoso Voices that sends you musician quotes. I know I should write Miss Shaham but "Orli" is just so much fun to write instead! It is even fun to type. Orli.

Just now as I got my coffee I was thinking about what she said. I know that feeling. When you are playing the piano and you nail something, you would like affirmation in a way. After all they do that at pop concerts -- jazz, rock, blues. Except in rock or blues it does not matter how difficult the passage is, in my experience. A Hammond B3 player just holds that note and holds it, and people go nuts. I am not blaming them. I do, too. It is just one of those things.

One musician I interviewed, I forget who, told me there is evidence that suggests people behaved that way when Mozart played. They would be egging him on, yelling at him, "Go, man, go!" I will have to look up who it was that told me that.

So that kind of affirming behavior is appealing in a certain respect.

But I think we should in general keep things the way they are. Because if you open the door to spontaneous applause while the music is going on, you open the door to all kinds of annoyance, is the problem.

Who has not been to a jazz show where you have a know-it-all at the next table who has to applaud or go, "Oh, yeah," at everything? My friend Jeff Simon at work once nailed that in a review, how annoying that is. Someone by pianist Tommy Flanagan's elbow kept smiling and going, "Oh, yeah." Just to show off that he knew what was going on.

I applauded Jeff out loud for that one, I will tell you that!

Then at the blues shows I used to go to at the Lafayette Tap Room in downtown Buffalo there was a doofus who, when he wanted to express appreciation, used to raise his voice and wail like a fire siren. He would hold this high note forever and it would be right in your ear and all I can say is, good luck savoring a solo by Johnny "Clyde" Copeland while you are listening to that.

So, I'm sorry, Orli. All other things being equal I would just prefer to listen to your fine self instead of a lot of interference. With which, we celebrate you in this performance of the haunting second movement of the Mozart E minor piano/violin sonata.

Cheers!

One weird piece

It is not every day that you hear something that truly amazes you. Yesterday for work I listened to a new CD of a piece I had always known existed but had never heard.

It is Grieg's two-piano arrangement of Mozart's C minor Piano Fantasy!

You would not believe this thing!

I kept wanting to adjust my set! I thought there was a problem with the CD.

I mean, this piece is crazy-weird. Periodically over the years I had wondered about it, what it would sound like, and I always thought: well, whatever it is, it cannot be that bad. How bad could it be? I have turned out to be not much of a purist about this kind of thing. I have an open mind.

Then I find out, it is bad! Part of the problem is that this fantasia is so magnificent on its own and anyone who plays it develops deep feelings for it. The idea of tampering with the Sonata K. 545, as Grieg also did, is not as inherently offensive. I do have deep feelings for the slow movement of that sonata but that is a whole other story.

Listening to Grieg's take on the Fantasy, it is as if Grieg did not have the foggiest idea what Mozart was getting at. And I love Grieg! Furthermore the liner notes said that Grieg was very satisfied with how the piece turned out.

The brand-new recording I heard for work is not on YouTube as far as I could tell. But here is Sviatoslav Richter and Elisabeth Leonskaja. That is Richter in the picture above. I run that picture whenever I get a chance because I cannot get over it.

Hmmm. Oddly enough these recordings appear to have been posted only a couple of days ago. Someone else is thinking about this!

Listen for yourself.

Very strange.