"I Concerti di Sviatoslav Richter a Milano: 1962-1994"

A cura di Giorgio Ceccarelli-Paxton 

"I Concerti di Sviatoslav Richter in Italia"

- III -

"I Concerti di Sviatoslav Richter a Milano: 1962-1994"

Prima Parte: 1962-1969

Richter e Celibidache, La Scala (Ottobre 1962)

Premessa ed esortazioni

A seguito del bellissimo articolo di Lidia Baldecchi Arcuri e di Guido Sarpero sui concerti di Richter in Liguria e del mio contributo sui concerti romani, presenti entrambi su questo blog, vorrei esaminare i concerti di Richter a Milano sulla base delle documentazioni disponibili. Cioè praticamente cercare di stabilire prima di tutto la correttezza delle date e dei programmi eseguiti ed inoltre reperire le recensioni coeve per capire lo spirito con cui Richter venne accolto nella città lombarda nell’arco di trentadue anni – dal 1962 al 1994 – che videro ben trentadue suoi concerti.

Ho cercato di fornire una lista quanto più possibile precisa e circostanziata sull’argomento e mi auguro che sia corretta al cento per cento. Qualsiasi contributo in merito sarà ovviamente gradito.

La esortazione principale – rivolta a tutti coloro che seguono questo blog, e soprattutto a coloro che vivono a Milano - è dovuta al fatto che, vivendo io a Roma, ho potuto consultare solo emeroteche locali, che per quanto ben fornite (come la Biblioteca Nazionale), possono essere lacunose per ciò che riguarda lo spettro dei giornali disponibili. La stragrande maggioranza delle recensioni reperite sono infatti relative al Corriere della Sera mentre altre recensioni, soprattutto da parte di giornali locali specializzati sarebbero interessanti e gradite.

L’altra esortazione è rivolta a coloro che, interessati a questa tematica, vogliano dare il loro contributo (programmi originali, recensioni giornalistiche ma anche impressioni e sensazioni PERSONALI - prima che svaniscano nelle nebbie della memoria) a QUALSIASI concerto che Richter abbia fatto in Italia. Lo scopo finale, infatti, è di costituire un corpus di documenti che ricostruiscano TUTTO l’iter artistico di Richter in Italia, paese da Lui amato moltissimo. Un lavoro in continuo divenire che possa costantemente essere aggiornato con nuove acquisizioni e magari ispirante anche altri appassionati di altri paesi a fare le stesse ricerche.

1962

Dopo una prima apparizione (che segna il suo esordio italiano) a Firenze il 19 e il 23 maggio 1962, Richter torna in Italia nell’ottobre dello stesso anno e precisamente il 3 e il 4 di quel mese per due storici concerti alla Scala in cui venne eseguito il Secondo Concerto op. 83 di Brahms con la guida del grande Sergiu Celibidache.

Opportuna la trascrizione del contenuto della suddetta recensione data la scarsa qualità dell’immagine (a sinistra)

RECENSIONE DA “CORRIERE DELLA SERA” DEL 3/10/1962

“Il debutto di Sviatoslav Richter a Milano non ha tradito l’attesa del pubblico; il teatro era esaurito, l’attenzione è stata degna delle nostre migliori tradizioni, il successo di un calore inusitato, di un’intensità che ha avuto pochi riscontri nella nostra cronaca più recente. Che cosa sia Richter oggi è facile dire: è un pianista che ha un’infinità di facce; che si presenta nella squisitezza della tecnica, nella potenza espressiva, nella levità purissima dei colori, sempre nuovo e imprevedibile. Nel concerto di ieri sera il grande artista russo ha dato una dimostrazione inequivocabile di maturità, di concentrazione, di puntualità, realizzando il Secondo Concerto di Brahms con una cura dei particolari da far desiderare immediatamente il bis. E così infatti è stato,dopo le roventi acclamazioni del pubblico, che ha voluto e gradito la ripetizione dell’Allegretto grazioso, ultimo tempo del concerto.

Un concerto, del resto, che aveva sul podio un direttore come Sergiu Celibidache; e il celebre maestro ha trovato presto il punto d’incontro con il solista, e ha trascinato l’orchestra della Scala a un’esecuzione che si può dire quasi perfetta. Il successo è stato trionfale.”

Ma la migliore testimonianza di questo avvenimento comparve sul settimanale Epoca dal titolo “Richter ci ha fatto vedere la musica” (di G.Grazzini)

Purtroppo sembra svanita la registrazione di questo concerto (che mi risulta trasmessa anche in televisione dalla RAI), registrazione (insieme al Primo di Čaikovskij con Bernstein) per cui farei follie per averla.

In questo mese del 1962 Richter diede altri tre concerti a Milano per un totale di cinque nell’anno, numero che verrà replicato solo nel 1966.

L'11 ottobre diede alla sala Verdi del Conservatorio un concerto “coraggioso” per la scelta dei brani consistenti in:

 

con i seguenti bis:
Prokof’ev: Gavotte op.95
Visions Fugitives op.22 nr.3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 11, 14, 15, 18.

Questa la recensione, talvolta difficilmente comprensibile, del Corriere della Sera

(a sinistra)

Il 15 e il 16 ottobre fu invece eseguito questo programma:

con solo alcune variazioni nei bis:

Chopin Studio op.10 nr.10; Rachmaninov Preludio op.32 nr.12; Prokof’ev Visions Fugitives op.22 nr.3,4,14,18 eseguiti il 15 e Chopin Studi op.10 nr.1,3,10 , Rachmaninov Preludio op.32 nr.12; Debussy Les collines d’Anacapri il giorno 16.

Da questi concerti furono tratte le registrazioni poi uscite per la Deutsche Grammophon (Chopin) e EMI (Schumann).

E questa fu la succinta recensione uscita sul Corriere della Sera

(a sinistra)

  

1965

Nell’ottobre 1963 vi fu un altro breve tour italiano, in cui però, stranamente, Milano non fu toccata. Il ritorno nella città meneghina avvenne nel 1965 e precisamente il 23 marzo alla Sala Verdi del Conservatorio con il Concerto in la minore op.16 di Grieg diretto da Carl Melles.

Il concerto, sul quale al momento non ho trovato recensioni, fu trasmesso dalla RAI per cui l’esecuzione circola ampiamente tra i collezionisti, anche se non fu mai commercializzato.

Due giorni dopo, il 25 marzo, sempre alla Sala Verdi vi fu un concerto solistico con il seguente programma:

Anche questo concerto fu trasmesso dalla RAI, per cui la registrazione, in buona qualità, circola tra gli appassionati.

Ecco la sintetica recensione del Corriere (qui a sinistra)

1966

Il 1966 ebbe la fortuna di vedere ben cinque concerti di Richter:

Il 12 e 13 ottobre alla Scala con un suo cavallo di battaglia, il Primo di Čaikovskij, sotto la direzione ancora di Carl Melles.

Il concerto seguente ebbe luogo il 17 ottobre alla Sala Verdi con un programma imperniato su Haydn, Beethoven e Chopin. Nel dettaglio:

1. Haydn: Sonata nr.62 (Hoboken XVI:52);
2. Beethoven: Sonata nr.12 op.26 “marcia funebre”;
3. Chopin: Polonaise nr.1 op.26 nr.1, Barcarola op.60, Preludi op.28 nr.6-11, 19,17, 23,24, Ballata nr.4 op.52

I bis furono tre: Chopin: Preludi op.28 nr.11; Debussy: La serenade interrompue; Rachmaninov: Etude-Tableaux op.39 nr.1

Dopo molti altri concerti in tutta Italia, Richter tornò a Milano il 3 dicembre 1966 per il suo primo concerto mozartiano in Italia: il Concerto nr.22 (K 482) sotto la direzione di Stanislav Wislocki al Teatro Nuovo.

per poi tornare alla Sala Verdi due giorni dopo, il 5 dicembre per un concerto solistico comprendente

Questo è un programma tipico di questo periodo con la Sonata lisztiana eseguita in modo superbo (la ricordo ancora, se mi è consentita una digressione personale, eseguita a Roma il 7 novembre di quest’anno, primo concerto di Richter cui ho assistito). Anche di questo concerto abbiamo una registrazione amatoriale ma con suono scadente di Schumann e Liszt (della Sonata eseguita a Roma, invece la qualità è buona) ma di suono ottimo per la Sonata di Weber trasmessa dalla RAI. La recensione del Corsera, apparsa il 6 dicembre era molto sbrigativa. Essa recitava così:

“Ancora una apparizione di Svjatoslav Richter a Milano. Il pianista sovietico, ormai alla conclusione di una lunga e impegnativa tournée italiana ha tenuto un recital al Conservatorio.

Richter, che sabato aveva interpretato un Concerto di Mozart ai Pomeriggi, questa volta ha scelto come autori Weber (…), Schumann (…), Liszt (Sonata in si minore) eseguita con assoluta genialità e con effetti straordinari. Non c’è molto da aggiungere a quanto si è detto recentemente di questo personalissimo artista. Ieri sera egli ha saputo essere volta a volta delicato e sognante, vigoroso e vivace, ispirato e forte, aderente insomma a tutte le richieste del suo programma. Applausi entusiastici, successo clamoroso”.

1967

Richter tornò a Milano l’anno successivo, il 27 novembre 1967 con un programma composito comprendente:

1. Haydn Sonata nr.48 (HOB XVI:35)
2. Chopin Rondò alla mazurka op.5; Chopin Ballata nr.1 op.23;
3. Debussy Preludes deuxième livre

 bis: Debussy Hommage a Haydn, Prelude “Des pas sur la neige”

E questa fu la recensione del Corsera del giorno successivo:

1968

Il 1968 vide un altro concerto isolato, precisamente il 25 giugno al teatro Renato Simoni con un meraviglioso programma tutto Beethoven comprendente:

Di questo concerto sopravvive tra i collezionisti l’op. 111 .

Sonata nr.11 op.22, Variazioni op.35, Sonata nr.19 op.49 nr.1, Sonata nr.20 op.49 nr.2, Sonata nr.32 op.111.

1969

Un solo concerto a Milano quest’anno il 7 febbraio con Schumann e Musorgskij.

Da questo concerto sopravvivono solo gli Studi Sinfonici, sempre in versione amatoriale.

(Fine prima parte)

"Personal memories" by Lidia Baldecchi Arcuri

"Personal memories"

Prof. Lidia Baldecchi Arcuri

I-II

parts

October 13th, 1962

 " It may surprise you, but my first reaction to the Maestro was one of bewilderment, and his performance actually didn’t totally convince me.

He came onstage targeting that “black prey”, without a glance towards the audience, barely nodding. Not yet seated, he plunged on the Schumann Sonata. Astonished, I gazed and thought, “It will be either thumbs up or thumbs down. Nothing lukewarm about this pianist!”

Of course, the verdict wasn’t thumbs down! We were evidently in the presence of  genius, but his approach gave me an impression of nervousness on his part, which in turn triggered  uneasiness in me.

Years later, I learned to foresee these moments of nervous tension (that had nothing to do with public performance because actually, audiences and the stage never really bothered him; but they were caused by the most unpredictable and - for me - incomprehensible reasons.)

I don’t remember anything else of the evening. I only remember that I was totally staggered by the tsunami that had struck me. "

March 29th, 1965

"…This time I was psychologically prepared to receive the onslaught, but it turned out to be useless !

The moment he uttered the first tone, all was  revelation. He seemed to improvise each emotion and each emotional hue carried you farther and farther away from the actual instrument that was producing it. It was not piano playing!  I don’t believe I had ever heard (or have since heard) such a visionary performance of the Chopin 4^th Scherzo. He had recreated the composer’s starting point.
That evening I completely succumbed to his sublime artistry, and my admiration grew constantly till  the moment he left us.”

 Reviews of his first concerts in Liguria: 1962 - 1965

November 25th-27th 1966

"… Unfortunately I was out of town and did not attend these concerts, but I heard raving reports about them: it didn’t surprise me. By this time, nothing concerning Richter’s interpretations could surprise me. ”

Reviews of the 1966 and 1969 concerts in  Genoa

June 14th 1969 (conducter: Riccardo Muti)

In 1969 Prof. L.B.A. meets Richter for the first time:


" My encounter with Richter happened at Riccardo Muti’s wedding.


Shortly afterwards, he entered our home (and hearts) definitively. The occasion: Ravel’s Concerto for the left hand.
The conductor, Riccardo Muti, had made his debut in Genoa one Saturday afternoon of years before and since then had become a dear friend of ours…"

One of the most meaningful encounters of my life

" My husband and I had been invited to Cristina and Riccardo Muti’s wedding in Ravenna.


We spent unforgettable days, not only for the event itself, but also for the uniqueness of its participants.

My meeting with Richter had something surrealistic but at the same time natural about it.  This type of atmospheric situation, as well as others that highlighted some of  his distinctive traits, often manifested themselves during our long friendship. I learned to recognize them, to understand them, to interpret, admire and to love them.

These same traits remained intact –albeit sublimated – in his artistic universe: he possessed hyper-sensitive reserve as opposed to a total, surprising spontaneity; his scathing instinct was integrated by an inflexible intellect; he could be child-likely naïve or have sudden mysterious, unfathomable glances and silences; he was indomitably curious; he was ruthlessly self-critical.

And now for the meeting itself. I’ll skip many delightful details that were later referred to me by Emy Erede, a lifelong friend of my husband’s and Richter’s Italian agent.

The Maestro had entered surreptitiously into the last row of pews after the  wedding function had already begun – obviously not to disturb or be noticed! After the ceremony, if I remember correctly, we were about 100 guests waiting our turn to be shuttled to the lunch venue, when someone tapped my shoulder. It was Emy Erede who, with a twinkle in her eye, whispered, “There’s someone who wants to meet you.”. I generally  take even strange events within my stride, and followed her with no particular expectation. To my complete utter astonishment, there in front of me - incarnate –appeared Sviatoslav Richter. I recuperated sufficiently to stammer some sort of lapidary salutation followed by a courageous entire phrase: “Maestro shall we be meeting again at lunch?” Equally lapidary, he answered. “No, at dinner.” And that was that! At dinner I found myself seated at his left, Emy Erede at his right. Decisive events often “tiptoe” into one’s life . Our friendship was to continue, till the end, in this discreet reciprocal atmosphere of loyalty and esteem."

In the photo: the Church of Sant'Agata Maggiore in Ravenna

... dinner with Richter...

The dinner

" It took place on the top floor of an ancient palace of Ravenna. Actually, it was the meeting place of a group of melomanes and gourmets who came from every walk of life, each bringing the raw materials or the capacities and talents that better served their goal: good food and opera! They called themselves “Gli Amici del Camino” (“Friends of the Fireplace”). In great display on the wall hung a gigantic photo of Pellegrino Artusi, legendary idol of the local Italian cuisine. A temporary partition divided the cooking area from the dining area, which had been furnished with long rustic tables and benches.

Towards the end of the gourmet treat, a rhythmic drumming on the tables began that slowly developed  into a “fff” crescendo and a stadium- type rooting of “Richter…Richter…Richter….!.

The Maestro, seated at my right, tried to escape the unexpected spotlight, (as he had done slipping into the church), but the rowdy insistence finally won over: he suddenly jumped to his feet, took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and dashed towards a rickety old upright and sat down. After him dashed a group of the members, and to my astonishment my own husband, who appointed himself…conductor! How brazen-faced could you be, I thought to myself embarrassed… instead everyone else was delighted (above all Richter and Muti!). Naturally they began with favourite operatic choruses chosen (by the chorus members!) at random: Richter (the orchestra) and the chorus were conducted by my husband.

At a certain point, a sort of operatic competition was sparked off, the competitors being: Nino Rota, Jacopo Napoli (then Director of the Milan Conservatory) and Sviatoslav Richter. They started challenging each others’ knowledge of Opera, pushing aside each other off the piano bench, hoping to play something that the others wouldn’t recognize. About an hour or more later, the “laurel wreath” was acknowledged and Richter won. ( By the way, they didn’t certainly propose well-known arias…out would come “ I Lombardi” Act 1, scene 2, or other such off-the- beaten- track repertoire.) In his early years, Richter had accompanied opera for a living and had therefore an encyclopaedic knowledge of the field. By memory.

At the end of the improvised competition, the greater part of the guests began to take leave. Richter came to me and with great simplicity said, “We’ll be seeing each other again in Genoa within two weeks time. I’ll be playing the Ravel left hand Concerto…even though I shouldn’t really do it!” I asked him if he would be our guest. “Naturally” he replied… and so it was to be ever since. What a rare privilege to have lived such unrepeatable experiences. "

                                 

A memorable appointment occurred on that 14th of June! Richter plays (for the first time) the Ravel Left Hand Piano Concerto, with Riccardo Muti conductor. A recording of the concert was published on the Stradivarius label, and our blog also refers Muti’s own testimonial. Such was the success, that the entire Concerto was encored at Richter’s own request, bypassing the orchestra’s understandable perplexity .

(ndr. The Italian recording includes the encore).


Prof. Lidia Baldecchi Arcuri remembers the rehearsal and evening this way:

" He had promised to see us again soon and so it was. Notoriously allergic to telephoning, ha had Emy Erede do it, inviting us to the rehearsal of the Ravel Concerto with Riccardo Muti conducting.

Upon arriving, one of his usual unpredictable surprises awaited me.! He asked ME (!) to test the acoustics from different points of the hall. I timidly gave my opinion. He had the piano position altered and the rehearsal began.

He was visibly unsatisfied, but rehearsal time was up (the Union representative, member of the orchestra, was already pointing towards his watch…) Richter called Emy Erede and they confabulated. She came back, sat by me and said, “Unbelievable, he wants to pay the orchestra’s overtime, but he absolutely wants to repeat!” The orchestra thought twice about it, refused the offer, and the rehearsal proceeded. I was to witness many of these events which confirmed his complete detachment from the economic aspect of his profession and money “tout-court”. (“It’s not interesting”, he would always conclude.)

An after-dinner concert followed on our terrace (of course strictly with persons he already knew). That was the first of his many entries in our home for many years to follow.

It was early morning and the merry company was, at this point, enjoying the warm spring evening, when the Maestro suddenly took me by the hand and asked me to show him the house – which I did gaily! When we came to the kitchen terrace, amongst my herb vases he saw one that contained basel. I imagine he was not acquainted with it, because he asked me if he could taste it. I explained the Genoese specialty: pesto. He was as delighted as a child caught with his fingers in the jam. A moment, and my husband appeared in the doorway, saw the scene, turned to me and  without the slightest hesitation exclaimed, “Why don’t we start all over again? (!! at three in the morning!!) Make some pesto with trenette (a type of pasta) for everyone.” It was a “yes or yes” type of a situation, and  so I did. The company livened up again at the fanciful idea and Richter ate the pesto-without pasta – by the spoonful. He was also like that!. "

Below some beautiful photos of Richter with his dear friend Lidia Baldecchi Arcuri on the terrace of her Genoese home (ca- 1992)

 

Transl. by L.B.A. from "Sviatoslav Richter in Liguria: 1962 - 1992", Concerti e Ricordi personali, by Guido Sarpero and Lidia Baldecchi Arcuri. Edit. C.G.

Elena Akhvlediani

(Sviatoslav Richter)

"...Alla fine degl'anni quaranta, Tbilisi fu un momento meraviglioso della mia vita. Eravamo tutti molto legati: i Shukaev - Vassilij Ivanovich e Vera Fedorovna- , l'artista Elena Akhvlediani, Keto Magalashvili, Nina Dorliak ed io"

[nel commento ad un disegno di Shukaev, per il volume "Il Musicista e i suoi incontri con l'Arte", di cui abbiamo pubblicato una piccola parte nel blog]. Foto. Archivio Boris Poyurovsky. Telavi anni '50: Richter con una cerchia di amici tra cui, all'estrema sinistra, in prima/seconda fila, Elena Akhvlediani e NIna Dorliak.

Elena Dmitrievna Akhvlediani
Pittrice. Telavi 1901 - Tbilisi 1975

 ...Uno degli eventi più importanti nella vita di Elena Akhvlediani è stato l'incontro con Sviatoslav Richter e la moglie Nina Dorliak, che in seguito sfociò in una lunga amicizia. In quegli anni, poco si sapeva circa la passione di Richter per la pittura. Tra i primi cui il brillante pianista mostrò i suoi lavori, ci fu Elichka. Più tardi, Richter, volendo far conoscere il talento dell'Akhvelediani, portò tutti i suoi dipinti da Tbilisi e li espose nel suo appartamento. Non era così quando venivano in tournée in Georgia, poiché il Maestro e sua moglie non si dilungavano nella casa di Elichka. Fortunatamente, nel soggiorno di questi c'era uno Steinway, dove, per una ristretta cerchia di amici intimi, Richter suonava le sue opere preferite.

Yuri Volovich. "Città della Mtatsminda". Elena Akhvlediani. 
(Trad. C.G.)

Un quadro di Elena Akhvlediani (si veda il link suggerito sopra)

Dmitri Hvorostovsky

A Krasnoyarsk
Dmitri Hvorostovsky

"Sviatoslav Richter mi chiese di girargli le pagine"

"Mi ricordo di quando Sviatoslav Richter venne per due volte a Krasnoyarsk, in una sala stracolma permise dei posti aggiunti anche sul palcoscenico. Sviatoslav Teofilovich mi chiese di girargli le note dal leggìo, ma io mi rifiutai, e quanto ora me ne pento. Non dimenticherò mai quei concerti..."

Cit. da un'intervista pubblicata sul sito krasrab.com
Trad. C.G.

March 1989

"March 1989"

from "PIANISTS AT VARYING HEIGHTS" A Survey of recent piano playing in London (Music and musicians international 1989)

by Bryce Morrison

[..]

For many musicians Sviatoslav Richter is the greatest living pianist. His arrival in the West in I960, already late in his career, caused a furore. Heralded by fulsome praise from Emil Gilels (who later made sniping references to 'the policeman of pianists' on account of an often metronomic severity) and by Julius Katchen in a brilliantly perceptive article in Music and Musicians, Richter was clearly, burdened with an awesome and in some senses impossible responsibility. Small wonder that his first American performances, captured in all their erratic brilliance by CBS, and London concerts, provoked a storm of controversy. In London there were three recitals of Haydn and Prokofiev, Chopin and Debussy, and Schubert and Schumann, each more vulnerable and teasingly enigmatic than the last. Yet over the years Richter's always uncertain temperament stabilized and his performances evinced a unique technical authority and idiosyncratic poetry.

Tired and bemused by the publicity that surrounded his every move and note, Richter then opted for quieter, even eccentrically small and remote, venues - settings apparently more suitable for his alternately volatile and confidential art. Recitals in the larger more prestigious centres became increasingly rare. However, during March this year Richter returned to London after a long absence and gave four recitals. At St James Piccadilly his recital, given in memory of the producer Walter Legge, included Schubert and a performance which - as on many previous occasions - provoked impassioned debate. In the G major Sonata (D. 894) his tempo for the first movement was slow enough to stir up a hornet's nest; for some it was like a Chinese water torture, for others a mystical distillation of lyrical genius. Certainly in Richter's hands what can be merely quiet reflection becomes a profoundly speculative, visionary experience. Admittedly the rest of the Sonata proceeded in relatively conventional style, but that opening Moderato e cantabile (extended still further with the repeat) haunts the imagination long after the event, characterised by a miraculous balancing of textures, a gleaming, near phosphorescent sonority, and above all a capacity to sustain - against overwhelming odds - the music's argument and line. From others, such audacity would surely have stammered towards incoherence. In Schumann's Nachtstücke, hardly his masterpiece, Richter's performance was acute and mesmeric, the central section of the third piece evolving and expanding with an effortless mastery. Even the weak Mendelssohnian fourth emerged like some serene balm or blessing, devoid of all sentimentality or obviousness. Prokofiev's Fourth Sonata, too, may have seemed an odd choice, but Richter can transform even the most unlikely material into a memorable experience. The central Andante has rarely been given with a more authentic sense of its cloudy and malignant poetry. The conclusion of the finale exploded in a no less convincing blaze of pianistic glory. For his single encore Richter chose La vallée des cloches from Ravel's Miroirs and showed once more that he is a peerless interpreter of the French repertoire. [..]

THE ECONOMIST. MARCH 25 1989
from
Piano-playing's grand old men "Hair, hands, cigar"

IN SOME ways, piano virtuosi are not what they were. In the nineteenth century the charismatic Franz Liszt inspired such devotion that a female admirer was supposed to have worn one of his cigar butts as a piece of jewellery. Today, such manic displays belong only to the world of rock. Yet modern giants of the keyboard still arouse a flutter of excitement, as evinced by the anticipation currently surrounding a rare visit to London by a Russian master, Sviatoslav Richter.

His concerts are attracting the kind of attention usually reserved for opera galas, with ticket prices to match. Mr Richter is one of the handful of pianists who can justly be called legendary, not merely because his tours are infrequent, but because his interpretations are highly individual, compelling and served by a magisterial technique. By contrast, the rising crop of young virtuosi — who mostly make their reputations in competitions — seem concerned less with realising a personal vision than with attaining technical mastery.[..]

Aleksander Slobodyanik (1974)

Aleksander Slobodyanik

(1974)

Some excerpts from an interview (Clavier Vol.13, 1974) 

[..]

"Did you hear any great pianists as a child ?" I asked.

"In Lvov when I was a boy I remember Sviatoslav Richter and Heinrich Neuhaus. When I listened to them, I decided to move to Moscow to study with one of them. And in 1956 my dream was fulfilled. I started studying with Professor Heinrich Neuhaus in Central Music School in Moscow."

Like most virtuoso pianists, Slobodyanik began playing the piano when he was very small.

"The atmosphere in my family was musical. My mother played piano, my father violin. My father was not a professional musician. After the conservatory he studied medicine. Now he is a doctor. My first lessons were with my mother when I was five years old. She taught me for many years. I was advanced when I went to Neuhaus."

"Do you remember what you first played for Neuhaus?"

"The Third Concerto by Beethoven, the Third Ballade by Chopin, some Chopin Etudes, and some Bach Preludes and Fugues."

Heinrich Neuhaus (1888-1964), one of this century's great teachers, had studied with Barth in Berlin at the same time as Arthur Rubinstein, and later with Godowsky. Rubinstein, concertizing in Moscow, had visited Neuhaus in the hospital the morning of the day he died.

"What made Neuhaus a great teacher?" I asked.

"It is difficult to speak about Neuhaus in a few words," Alek replied. "He was one of the greatest cultured persons in the century. He was a fantastic teacher beacuse he knew very well literature, history, all kinds of art. He had studied in Berlin and had lived in Italy. He had a fantastic education. His uncle, Felix Blumenfeld, was the teacher of Horowitz. From 1919 to 1932 Neuhaus taught in Kiev. Horowitz, Neuhaus, Blumenfeld — many great artists worked in Kiev. "After 1932, maybe I'm wrong a few years, Neuhaus moved to Moscow. The poet Boris Pasternak, was his best friend."

"Neuhaus had many fine pupils," I said.

"Yakov Zak was one of them. Gilels studied with him a couple of years. Richter many years. Those are the three ..."

"Neuhaus described you as 'endowed with enormous innate talent.' Tell me of your study with him."

"Oh, I began studying with him when I was 15, and often to play to him was difficult. He worked you very hard and if you weren't prepared, if you didn't practice very hard, he would scold you. He was very severe sometimes. There were some funny and some touching moments. He could curse like hell. He could break a lamp, anything. He went wild. I tried very hard but I can't say that I was one of his most gifted students. I don't think I was totally prepared for what he expected of me sometimes."

"Does his book, The Art of Piano Playing (Praeger, 1973), give a good idea of his teaching?"

"The book is not the best of him because his personality was everything. His presence was the factor that made you work and learn."

"I've heard that gifted children in Russia are singled out at age four and given special training," I  said.

"Since four?" Slobodyanik exclaimed. "Four is too early, but from six or seven, they go to special Central Music Schools not only in Moscow but in Kiev, Kharkov, Lvov, the biggest cities. They go to school free, having not only music education but all kinds of subjects."

"Your press material," I continued, "says that at 16 you decided to compete in the Warsaw Competition, that bitterly discouraged and disappointed from winning only seventh place, you refused to practice even for Professor Neuhaus and were expelled for a time from the Conservatory."

"I was 18," Alek immediately corrected.

"And your consequent bitter disappointment?" 

(Laugh). "That's why I told this sometimes. Yes, I had only about three months to prepare."

"What did you prepare in three months?"

"It was a Chopin Competition. A concerto, some ballades. Some works I knew before, but many things I prepared just for the competition. Maurizio Pollini won first place. Many prize-winners you never hear from again, but Pollini's gotten better."

"Did you really think you would give up the piano?"

"Netakda kontsa, not totally. Not winning was one of my first big disappointments, not only with music in general, but with life. I realized that there are circumstances in life that don't have to do totally with you. There are other elements involved. When things happen to you that are not very pleasant, you get a certain reaction. I was very disturbed at the  time."

"With whom did you study when you re- entered the Moscow Conservatory, and when did you begin your career?"

"After one year I continued with Neuhaus. I studied about six or seven years with him altogether, and then after he died I studied with Professor Vera Gornostayeva, a young, very talented professor in Moscow Conservatory, who also had studied with Professor Neuhaus. I prepared my Tschaikowsky Competition program with her. After the 1966 Tschaikowsky Competition I began my concert career."

"Do you remember any anecdotes about the 1966 Tschaikowsky Competition?"

"The most exciting part was the announcing — who is winner, who is first, second,  third — at two o'clock in the morning. The enthusiasm and reaction of the public — there was booing. Some people were even ready to hit the jurists. I won fourth prize."

"Who won first?"

"Grigori Sokolof."

How He Practices Slobodyanik's method of practice depends upon his schedule. If he has concerts with new programs very soon, he practices six or six and a half hours a day. But when on tour, "when I have no chance to practice enough," he thinks the best way to keep in form is "to play three intense weeks of concerts and then to prepare new programs for three weeks." His hands are large — even from the stage you notice the immense stretch between the fourth and fifth fingers.

[..]

Comments from "A musician and his encounters with the world of art"

from

"A MUSICIAN AND HIS ENCOUNTERS WITH THE WORLD OF ART"

- II -

[...Below we give Svyatoslav Richter's comments concerning pictures presented in this issue]

ROBERT FALK (1886-1958)
Richter. Sketch

"Unfortunately there was only one sitting: a preliminary sketch for a portrait. Falk was kind enough at the time to encourage and direct me with regard to my own desire to take up painting. All that remains of the plan to paint my portrait is this one sketch. It reminds me of Robert Rafailovich Falk's cool attic studio in the "Peacock" house on the embankment with its view overlooking the Kremlin and the River Moskva."

Portrait of the Painter's Wife. 1953

"This is a portrait of his wife, Anghelina Shchyokin-Krotova (Gelya as he called her)— she was his inspiration, his muse. The portrait has an exceptional charm and is an excellent likeness. Gelya looking like a  schoolmistress lost in thought (that's how I see her in this portrait). From 1942 I used to visit Falk's house. I remember the advice he used to give me , calm and wise— Don't be in a hurry, keep everything in reserve. This advice was meant to apply to everything— music included. I still feel a deep friendship towards him, a devotion to this artist, who was always true to himself, and entirely committed to his art, and thus conquered time and space. . . . That's why his painting is always alive, always full of movement. The more you look at his works the more you find new riches in them. But take your time, don't be in a hurry! Whoever has been to his studio and seen his exhibitions— these "recitals" of painting-will never forget them."

VALENTIN SEROV (1865-1911)
Portrait of N. N. Guchkova. 1902

"I used to live in the home of Nadezhda Nikolayevna Prokhorova (Guchkova) during the difficult days of the war and was accepted there simply, as a member of the family. It was a house with the old Moscow traditions, kindly, truly Russian and ready to share everything there was to share. The youngest son of Nadezhda Nikolayevna came unexpectedly from the front for one day and left late in the evening never again to return. She saw him off through the blacked-out kitchen. I'll never forget how her look followed after the young lad as he walked away. . . . Until the very end of her life I was her close friend."

 
NIKOLAI ULYANOV (1875-1949)
Portrait of 0. L. Knipper-Chekhova as Ranevskaya in Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard". 1904

"After moving from Odessa to Moscow, one of my first performances took place at the All-Russian Theatrical Society. In the actors' lounge I suddenly noticed this melancholy portrait which I guessed must be of Olga Leonardovna Knipper-Chekhova. This was my first acquaintance with her. After this I was fortunate enough to make the personal acquaintance of Olga Leonardovna and even make bold to say I was her friend. . . . Annual reunions over the New Year, Gurzuf, the Nikolina Hill. . . . Words fail me to express my admiration for this splendid woman. I think this portrait is one of Ulyanov's best works."

Zhuravlyov-Lermontov. Sketch

"Dmitri Nikolayevich Zhuravlyov, the actor— one of my favourite actors, dear Dmitri Nikolayevich, "Pasya", as we used to call him. A great reciter of Pushkin, Chekhov, Tolstoy, the darling of Muscovites, Chekhov, Tolstoy, the darling of Muscovites, and passionately in love with art. Of course, this portrait is not entirely Zhuravlyov, nor for that matter, is it entirely Lermontov— but isn't this really where the painter succeeds?"

ALEXANDER GABRICHEVSKY (1891-1968)

Maximilian Voloshin

"Voloshin is the work of AG Gabrichevsky, the famous art critic. To me Voloshin is his house in Koktebel, the museum with the tower, his widow, Maria Stepanovna, all the stories told about him and paintings by Ostroumova-Lebedeva and Bogayevsky. And also a moment one night, when the tower was dark and only the head of Princess Taiakh could be seen by the light of the moon. ... As to Voloshin the poet, in our country everybody knows him."

PYOTR KONCHALOVSKY (1876-1956)

Portrait of the Verighins. 1918

"The portrait was painted in 1918 and, I believe, never exhibited in Russia. It has an interesting history. At one of my concerts in Paris I received a bouquet of white lilac then at another I received a second spray, this time with an accompanying letter which explained that the flowers were from a pianist in memory of her mother who had always sent Rachmaninov white lilac at his concerts, and had even been mentioned in his biography. After this we became acquainted— I went to thank her for the flowers. It was at about twelve o'clock, noon, and when I asked, "Is Alexandra Lvovna at home?" (later I called her Shurochka), her husband cheerfully replied: "She's at home but actually in a faint on account of your visit." After that we became friends and they used to come everywhere to my concerts. Shurochka used to indulge me in every possible way. She bequeathed me this portrait where she is depicted with her first husband, the pianist, Verighin. I used to meet Konchalovsky when I was living in the village of Bugry— on the Konchalovsky "estate". Every so often I would hear Pyotr Petrovich's splendid baritone voice singing Italian cavatinas while he was working. I also remember him in his box at my concerts (by the way, he was passionately fond of Beethoven's variations on the Diabelli theme). His art has power, richness, generosity and lightness— the qualities inherent in a true talent."

KETEVANA MAGALASHVILI (1894-1974)
Heinrich Neuhaus. 1952

"From 1943 I became a very good friend of Ketevana Magalashvili after I visited her, coming straight from the mountains in my climbing gear. She had a studio with a view over-looking the whole of Tbilisi and, in the evenings, you could see Kazbek in a pink haze. She was a typical Georgian type, a kind of Medea with burning black eyes— a real Kakhetian. warm-hearted and hospitable. She lived in her "tower" like a tsarina and, at the same time— quite simply. This portrait of Heinrikh Gustavovich Neuhaus is a strikingly successful likeness. It seems to have been done during one of his tours while rehearsing his concert programme at Keto's. Here he is shown completely absorbed in the music, at the moment of absolute oneness with sound, which here becomes literally audible (a Brahms intermezzo, perhaps)."

Portrait of the Singer, Nina Dorliak (Richter's wife)

"When I first went to the house of that splendid singer, Nina Dorliak, in the Arbat I immediately caught sight of this portrait above the piano and just beside the original. One is struck by the likeness but, on close inspection, it becomes clear that both in glance and expression the subject has been touched with a southern passivity peculiar to the women of the Caucasus but in no way characteristic of the original. This portrait is of course a portrait of the singer during a performance, the portrait of an artist, a lovely portrait. Ketevana Konstantinovna used to complain a lot because her favourite model was extremely unpunctual and was consistently late for sittings— this unpunctuality, she would say, was not conducive to artistic inspiration !"

NIKOLAI ANDREYEV (1873-1932)
Ekaterina Kost

"Nikolai Andreyev is well known to Muscovites for his long- familiar Gogol monument which now stands in the small square in front of the house where the writer died. Ekaterina Kost is representative of that noble and dedicated army of Russian doctors. A doctor and blood specialist, she is a professor and head of department in a Medical Institute and the most senior staff member at Botkin Hospital. The portrait was painted in her youth in the felicitous manner of the painter-aesthetes of the Mir Isskustva (The World of Art) circle. In this portrait it is difficult to recognise the serious and austere scientist— she is young, arch, almost fatally charming. I once met Ekaterina Andreyevna in her study at Botkin Hospital, and she arranged for me to have a very important medical examination. She made all the dicisions for me."

ARTUR FONVIZIN (1882-1973) 
Imast 

"I used to receive letters from an unknown lady correspondent who used to sign herself "Imast". She announced herself as a sorceress who knew my future and used to predict all sorts of honours and surprises that were supposed to lie in store for me. Her letters were very amusing and extravagant. I never met her but through someone else she sent me this portrait as a present (a Fonvizin!). And now it's the star attraction of the exhibition."

BORIS KUSTODIEV (1878-1927)
Portrait of Mitya Shostakovich. 1919 

"Dmitri Shostakovich, a composer of genius, became part of each one of our lives and left a lasting impression. He brought us a great deal of happiness and joy although often we were overpowered by the force of his tragic art. It is impossible to fully evaluate and completely understand a phenomenon such as Shostakovich. For me personally his most important work is the Eighth Symphony. This portrait of Mitya Shostakovich, a fine example of realistic drawing, conveys the spiritual essence of the boy's genius."  

YAROSLAV MANUKHIN (b. 1925)
Dmitri Krasnopevtsev

"Yaroslav Manukhin is a graphic artist and painter, a book illustrator and also a very fine linocut artist. I am grateful to him for this portrait. In my opinion Dmitri Krasnopevtsev is one of the most talented of the Moscow painters. His still lifes are executed with the classic formality of that genre and are distinguished by their outstanding individuality. I have long been one of his admirers and twice— in 1962 and 1975— a large selection of his work has been exhibited at my house."


from Soviet literature (1979) - Snippet Google Books. Pictures: Yuri Bochonoff web album and others sources. Read "A MUSICIAN AND HIS ENCOUNTERS WITH THE WORLD OF ART" I

Internationals Magazines (III)

               Riviste dal mondo Magazines Internationaux - Internat. Zeitschriften

M   u    s    i   c   a   l     M  a  g  a  z  i  n  e  s

- III -

For contributes, please e-mail to CG.: svyetik69@gmail.com

"Classical disCDigest"

GB

REMEMBERING RICHTER

 RICHTER THE ENIGMA