Japan | Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli

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Rio de Janeiro

'The great pianist arrived unexpectedly at Galeão (RJ airport) for his first programme.' He brings his tuner Gaetano Paez. 'This is the pianist's first visit to Rio de Ianeiro.'

Diario de Noticias 5.8.64:/ Jornal do Brasil 16 August 1964

Tuesday, 18 August 1964, at 9pm, Teatro Municipal, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil:

Bach-Busoni, Chaconne; Beethoven Op.2/3 in C major; Debussy Images I & II

Monday, 24 August 1964, at 9pm, Teatro Municipal, Rio de Janeiro

SCARLATTI 5 Exercícios para cravo
BEETHOVEN Sonata opus 111 em dó menor
Maestoso
Allegro con brio ed appassionato
Arietta
Adagio molto semplice e cantabile
Intervalo
II
CHOPIN 2 Mazurkas
Fantasia opus 49
Berceuse
Scherzo n.° 2 em si bemol menor

Renzo Massarani Jornal do Brasil (21 August 1964)

The launch of Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli was prepared using extra-musical publicity elements, dedicated to the most spiritually indigent segments of the public: Benedetti is one of the five great pianists of our time (why exactly five? And which are the other four?); he travels not only with his grand piano (there are others too: Rubinstein, for example) but even with his tuner, whose name and surname were made known repeatedly, without, however, telling the best part of the public—the majority—which works and authors were on the programmes. The people's fantasy completed the picture, with jokes of all kinds. The last of these explained the postponement of the first recital by the fact that, for Benedetti, the instrument was tired and needed a rest. What it needed was serious repairs by the tuner, as in Rio the piano had been left in an upright position in the rain for seven days or seven nights.

In Italy itself, alas, there were those who created the tent of an artificial and eccentric Benedetti Michelangeli. And there were critics ([Beniamino] Dal Fabbro (1910-1989), for example) who saw only externalities in the triumphant planist: "Woe to the artist, as Debussy said, who allows himself to be determined by an environment and does not create it, who becomes the idol of an audience, enjoying their low notions of art and mediocre, obscene hedonism. This happened with Benedetti Michelangeli." Naturally, there are millions, both among the public and among critics, who view the pianist quite differently, with the respect and admiration he deserves; which explains why, for each of his concerts, tickets must be purchased months in advance. And several mutual friends—Benedetti and mine—spoke to me not only of this pianist's superb artistic qualities, but also of his qualities as a simple and good man. They also told me of the master's generosity, who supports at his own expense the famous school of advanced training he created and directed in the Alps, in the city of Bolzano.

The programme of his first recital in Rio was enough to dispel legends. No Chopin or Liszt, no FFFF in the finale, but three contrasting parts, rigorously musical. Without easy concessions or showmanship, the gigantic and harsh Bach-Busoni Chaconne, the Sonata Op. 2 No. 3 that Beethoven dedicated to Haydn, and which is so rarely remembered by pianists for its pathetic and passionate, sure-fire devastating effects. And the six Images, from Claude Debussy's two series, occupying the entire second part.

In the pianist approaching his piano on Tuesday, it was easier to see a worried, even timid, musician than a Paganini or a Liszt wanting something, to win over the audience with low, melodramatic strokes. During the recital, this certainty was immediately confirmed in the reconstruction of the sound blocks of the Chaconne; it was confirmed in the crystal-clear presentation of the opening Allegro, in the supreme serenity of the adagio, in the joy of the scherzo, in the popular games of the finale of the Beethoven Sonata. He achieved a moving beauty in Debussy: an admirable luminosity of pure sounds and infinite musicality. What more is worth losing myself in detailed analysis, except to say that Benedetti Michelangeli captivated me, moved me, and excited me to the max? And that, above all, he is a great musician.

His recital was completed by extrusion. Apparently, if the Organization doesn't change its announcement, Benedetti will continue with two recitals, tomorrow and Monday at 9 p.m., and with a concert on Wednesday at 4 p.m. (10 p.m.). He will perform a Beethoven concerto with the Municipal Orchestra, probably under the baton of Maestro Molinari-Pradelli.

Jornal do Brasil (27.8.64) also review Tuesday: 'A new triumph of an unparalleled art. All works seem to find in the great pianist a beauty, unlike any other, different, but utterly persuasive, revelatory definitive. If Michelangeli had been Brailowsky, the theatre would've been packed. [Alexander Brailowsky (1896 – 1976), a Russian/French pianist]

In return, those present received something extraordinary, something that music among us, so stingily bestows, for which we are deeply grateful to the festival organisers.'

(Renzo Massarani)

The Italian pianist Auturo Benedetti Michelangeli, whom Rio has longed to meet for years, performed at the Teatro Municipal. Now, after his performance was scheduled and rescheduled, he could be heard. He is truly a master of his subject. Everything about him is measured, controlled, thoughtful, and refined, without ever betraying the composer's intentions. He takes them with all the collaboration that an illicit technique allows, giving the impression that difficulties disappear, becoming effortless, as simple and carefree as they are overcome. leaning on the keyboard, they c ome to the surface without any artificiality, whether vibrating in the vigorous notes he imposes on Busoni's "Chaconne," when he makes the piano a replica of the piano, or in the tenuous, fresh, and ragged sonorities of Debussy's "Images," pages with which he opened and closed the program.

In between, we also heard Beethoven's "Sonata Op. 2," where the finish was noticeable. The work was sure and without superficiality, revealing the profound musical nature of the performer, undoubtedly intellectual by virtue of his working conditions. At the same time, a poet in the broad sense.

In the various encores he was forced to perform, he demonstrated passages of elegiac simplicity - a captivating quality, soothing to the spirit for those agitated by the present life. The audience made a grand and sincere show of appreciation of this illustrious artist, despite his seriousness and his unadjusted appearance, but captivated by his utter admiration.

[Portuguese translation to be improved]
D’Or (Diario de Noticias. 20 August)

On Sunday 23 August, Diario announced that Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli is not just a great pianist: he is a very complicated one. Because the Teatro Municipal was not available all day yesterday for his evening recital, he decided to cancel it at the last minute, postponing it until tomorrow [Monday] at 9 p.m. in the same location.

Michelangeli's unexpected gesture caused the most unpleasant impression, especially among those who had already purchased tickets to hear him.

Review of Monday 24th:

The second recital by Italian Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli confirmed what we had said about him at his début: that is, we are not just dealing with a pianist with a remarkable command of his instrument, but an artist in the true sense of the word.

One doesn't get the impression, when listening to him, that he plays for others, concerned with the audience. He performs for himself, for himself, as an honest, serious interpreter, deeply absorbed by the intentions of the work that makes him sensitive, aided by his ability to retain any technical problems.

His play of nuances, so discreet, so delicate, so full of intimate emotion, nevertheless reaches the soul of the listener who feels the need to hold his breath, feels a kind of oppression to drink in the mystery of the measure of the precision with which MicheleThe second recital by Italian Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli confirmed what we had said about him at his debut: that is, we are not just dealing with a pianist with a remarkable command of his instrument, but an artist in the true sense of the word.

One doesn't get the impression, when listening to him, that he plays others, concerned with the audience. Introduced, what is noticeable in the analysis of his human persona, he performs for himself, for himself, as an honest, serious interpreter, deeply absorbed by the intentions of the work that makes him sensitive, aided by his ability to retain any technical problems.

Scarlatti's five exercises, which opened the programme, were a magnificent introduction, filled with that necessary simplicity, a simplicity so often more difficult to replicate than the complications of a stunning virtuoso. And then came Beethoven's final Sonata, entirely different from all the others that preceded it. In it we have all the powerful rapture of the beginning, as well as the naive interpretation of the ending, played almost in a lyrical way, with a very pure sonority.

After the intermission and the piano being properly tuned in open air (Michelangeli was his tuner for this unprecedented mission), the Chopin series began, an author whom the pianist himself sees as the great romantic that he was, exuding the intricacies, the subtle phrasing, the secret dimension of his pages, despite their poor pianistic construction.

And two "Mazurkas" paraded, less to be danced than to be heard: the "Fantasia opus 49", the "Berceuse", perhaps a little rushed, but of untranslatable charm, and, finally, the "Scherzo" in B-flat minor, vivid and exquisitely beautiful.

[Portuguese translation to be improved]

D’Or (Diario de Noticias, 26 August)

Wednesday 26 August: final concert, Beethoven with orchestra under Molinari-Pradelli; also some Carlos Gomes music..

According to the ANSA news agency, pianist Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli will leave Arezzo, Italy, where he teaches piano, to move to Brazil. Michelangeli, considered one of the greatest pianists of our time, has caused considerable discontent in Italy with his decision. Commenting on his attitude, a columnist for the Italian newspaper "Il Messaggero" says that, for 12 years, Arezzo has done everything possible to satisfy Michelangeli's aspirations as a teacher. Claiming to be unaware of the reasons behind the artist's decision, the newspaper reports that the musician will abandon Italy, leaving a series of debts to be paid off. Naturally, he preferred Brazil because he must have been promised greater financial compensation.
Diario de Noticias 30 September 1964, later?

Pura, Lugano: 1960

Beniamino Dal Fabbro, Il crepuscolo del pianoforte

Renzo Massarani mention Dal Fabbro in his review (above) of a Michelangeli recital in Rio de Janeiro. This essay, "The Twilight of the Piano"—a history of the piano's triumph and decline—first published by Einaudi, Torino in 1951. 'With elegant prose that makes this essay a work of high style, extensive chapters narrate the instrument's biography, from its childhood as a harpsichord to its Romantic triumph as a piano, from the exhausted harmony of Debussy to his senile twentieth-century phase, concluding with a harsh assessment of the languid touch of Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, one of the greatest exponents of Italian pianism: a story now forgotten, which at the time raised bitter discontent.'

Anche nella stroncatura non condivisibile lo stile di Dal Fabbro è superbo, le aggettivazioni da manuale: Benedetti-Michelangeli «mondano e mellifluo carilloneur del beghinaggio pianistico», «prigioniero nel limbo del suo laccato mondo sonoro», “pianola perfetta” che versa un «deliquiescente sciroppo sonoro», creatore di un «paradiso fonico liscio e arrotondato», di una «vellicazione vellutata» che mette Beethoven «sotto una lastra di vetro, come fa l’entomologo con le farfalle morte dalle vaghe ali screziate, e lo contempla, o lo manda a passeggio, tutto attillato e mingherlino, in un giardino froebeliano.»

Even in the unacceptable panning, Dal Fabbro's style is superb, the adjectives textbook: Benedetti-Michelangeli "worldly and mellifluous carilloneur of the pianistic beguinage", "prisoner in the limbo of his lacquered world of sound", "perfect pianola" that pours a "deliquescent sonic syrup", creator of a "smooth and rounded phonic paradise", of a "velvety titillation" that places Beethoven "under a pane of glass, as an entomologist does with dead butterflies with vaguely mottled wings, and contemplates him, or sends him for a walk, all tight and skinny/all dressed up and scrawny, in a Froebelian garden."

[Giovanni Gavazzeni, reviewing a new edition 2022]

Paris, January 1965

In 1964 Jacques Leiser, then a young executive (25 years old) with EMI Records was assigned by Phillips Records to negotiate a 10 record contract with the reclusive pianist. Leiser flew to Brescia, unaware that the maestro was already contemplating a return to the concert circuit that would bring to an end 10 years of semi-retirement. Cautious but cognizant of opportunity, Michelangeli at first demurred. "If I make these records, do you think they’ll sell?" he asked.

Leiser had engaged Michelangeli, for a fee of $2000, to perform with the Societé de l’Orchestre du Conservatoire de Paris. Ironically, Michelangeli was asked to replace another pianist who had cancelled. The conductor on this occasion was Georges Pretres, and on January 20th, 1965, the Grieg Concerto and Liszt’s murky Totentanz became the national anthem of his return.

The concert was a triumph. Attended by prominent political figures, a coterie of marquises and a delegation of bejeweled comtesses, there were also, according to Time, "more pianists per square foot than ever before assembled." Bouquets of chrysanthemums and roses flowered the stage, tossed there from rococo balconies by legions of admirers, accompanied by some two dozen curtain calls. Invitations poured in from the world’s leading orchestras. Michelangeli was indeed back. (John Bell Young)

January 5, 1965: Paris, France (Studio TV Broadcast | DVD+R)

– Les Grandes Interprètes –

· Scarlatti: Sonata in C minor, K.11

· Scarlatti: Sonata in C major, K.159

· Chopin: Mazurka in G-sharp minor, Op.33 No.1

· Chopin: Mazurka in B minor, Op.33 No.4

· (Interview): In French

· Debussy: Hommage à Rameau (Images, Book I No.2)

· Debussy: Reflets dans l’eau (Images, Book I No.1)

According to Michelangeli, he was not invited to France for reasons unknown to him. French critics welcome the Italian pianist, who arrived in Paris with his Steinway piano and personal tuner Tallon, and call him the “Callas of the piano”. Among other things, he also takes part in a television broadcast, where he plays several solo pieces (Scarlatti’s sonatas, Chopin’s mazurkas op. 33 nos. 1 and 4, two movements from Debussy’s Images I) and answers several questions from the moderator Gavoty. The interview is conducted in two languages – the questions are asked in French, but Michelangeli decides to answer in Italian. During the interview, Michelangeli answers almost every question with one word, and when asked why he played in France, the pianist answers “I don’t know”. When asked if he is shy, Michelangeli answers in the affirmative and adds “only in music I am not shy”.

1965 is also the year when, after a long time, the pianist breaks his isolation and returns to the recording studio. The new LP for the music publishing house BDM, of which he was a shareholder, contains Beethoven's Sonata Op. 111, sonatas by Galuppi and Scarlatti.

Katia Vendrame

This Beethoven/Galuppi/Scarlatti were recorded in Rome in 1964 and issued on Decca/London on 4 March 1965. 'The 1960s were a lean decade for collectors, hoping for additional Michelangeli recordings: what was to have been an extensive documentation at last of his solo repertoire never got beyond [this] single, somewhat disappointing release.' (Donald Manildi)

Martha Argerich

Olivier Ballamy, Martha Argerich. Die Löwin am Klavier, p.109ff (in the German translation of the original French) dates Martha Argerich's time with ABM to 1961. La Stampa interviewed her there in December 1961 (see previous page).

During these months, he received his students in Moncalieri, not far (8km/5 miles) from Turin, in a house belonging to Fiat CEO Gianni Agnelli. He was no ordinary teacher. An Australian pianist who had spent months practising a Beethoven sonata with the sole aim of playing it for his idol had heard him grumble impatiently after a few bars: "This sonata is not for you, play another one instead." The poor boy never received another audition from him.

Martha Argerich stayed with Michelangeli for no less than a year and a half, only to receive just four lessons from him in the end! She waited in vain for him to invite her to an audition – the pianist preferred to show her the northern Italian landscape at breakneck speed in his Ferrari. To justify the limited number of lessons, Michelangeli later said he had tried to teach Martha Argerich the music of silence.

He owned a copy of the famous 250 TG Pininfarina model, of which the car manufacturer with the black horse on a yellow background in its logo had produced only 351. Enzo Ferrari had personally handed over his car to him. Legend has it that he even participated in the famous Mille Miglia car race in Monza, a claim his widow, Giuliana, laughingly denies: "My husband loved to tell stories. He never participated in any car race of that kind." Car races or not, not a single insurance company had wanted to take the risk of losing his valuable hands.

Martha admired his playing, his style, and especially his recording of Ravel's Piano Concerto in G major. She knew his repertoire was immense, but he only played a very small part of it in public. She was extremely taken with his personality, loved his crazy ideas, and wanted to get away from Geneva. Their first meeting took place in Bolzano. Michelangelo received her but made no secret of his lack of interest. "Who did you study with?" he asked distractedly. After Martha had listed her teachers as they came to mind, he simply said with an ironic smile: "Bella collezione!"

She sat down at the piano, and he noted in his notebook: "Doesn't see the tone as divinely ordained." A student-teacher relationship between the perfectionist aesthete and the natural wonder—that couldn't really work out. Martha was looking for a fruitful artistic exchange, equal to equal, a modern, simple, creative relationship like the one she had experienced in her collaboration with Friederich Gulda. But Michelangeli was too reserved, too cold, too much of a "Capricorn" for her. He was a kind of guru, and she distrusted any kind of sect. But she had nothing better to do, so she stayed, and he observed her from a distance. "I didn't get in touch with him," she says today about their relationship. Signora Michelangeli gently corrects her: "My husband gave Martha so few lessons because she simply didn't need more."

Pianist Alberto Neuman, who was a frequent visitor to Moncalieri at the time, suggests a different explanation: "Michelangeli was jealous of Martha's penchant for Horowitz."

Once, going out into the hallway for a cigarette, Neumann overheard Martha listening to a Horowitz recording at full volume through Martha's door. Shortly afterward, he noticed the familiar silhouette of Michelangeli in the corridor, annoyed by the noise, grumbling to himself: "It's always that Horowitz!" For Neuman, the fact that the maestro was refusing to give her lessons was a form of revenge. Martha repeatedly tried to raise the issue with Michelangeli, who pretended not to understand her. Even [her mother] Juanita tried to provide disaster relief and support her daughter - without success.

Obsessed with pianistic perfection, the Italian demanded that his students master Pischna's piano exercises and Clementi's sonatas by heart. Nothing against Clementi, whose repertoire also included a sonata or two of Horowitz's—but Pischna! [Czech, Josef Pišna; 15 June 1826 – 19 October 1896]

For Michelangelo, Martha had brought herself to play Beethoven's Eroica Variations and Waldstein Sonata... "I practiced a bit," she admits today, "but not really with full vigour."

In Moncalieri, life was pleasant and perfectly organized. The food was also excellent. Michelangeli loved to end the day with a glass of Johnnie Walker—Black Label, not Red Label; he explained the reasons for this.

He liked to play late at night—smoking Argentinian cigarettes. One day, he asked Martha to play on behalf of his institute in Turin. She protested: "But I only had two lessons with you!" And he replied: "Starting tomorrow, you'll have one every day." That was by no means the case, and a few hours before the big event, Michelangeli had vanished from the scene. When he reappeared after the concert, he thanked Martha with a broad smile. "I was told you played very well." Flattered, she refrained from further comment.

But her hour of revenge was not long in coming. One day, a few of Michelangeli's students were listening to a recording of Maurice Ravel's Jeux d'eau. They were so engrossed in the music that they didn't notice the door to the room open. The maestro, who had stuck his head into the crack in the door, looked at her, touched. "Is that my recording?" he finally asked. Those addressed shook their heads without turning to him: "No, that's Martha." The great artist didn't bat an eyelid and quietly closed the door behind him.

Martha Argerich, born 5 June 1941

Her parents' apartment was on Avenida Coronel Díaz in the barrio of Palermo. Born and raised in Buenos Aires, Argerich gave her debut concert at the age of eight before receiving further piano training in Europe. At an early age, she won several competitions, including the VII International Chopin Piano Competition and the Ferruccio Busoni Competition, within three weeks of each other in 1965.

Her paternal ancestors were Spaniards from Catalonia who had been based in Buenos Aires since the 18th century. Her maternal grandparents were Jewish immigrants from the Russian Empire, who settled in Colonia Villa Clara in Argentina's Entre Ríos Province, one of the colonies established by Baron de Hirsch and the Jewish Colonization Association.

At the age of five, she moved to teacher Vincenzo Scaramuzza, who stressed to her the importance of lyricism and feeling. Argerich gave her debut concert in 1949 at the age of eight. The family moved to Europe in 1955, where Argerich studied with Friedrich Gulda in Austria, whom Argerich describes as one of her major influences.

The Argentinian

Martha Argerich, born 5 June 1941

At the age of five (1946), she moved to teacher Vincenzo Scaramuzza, who stressed to her the importance of lyricism and feeling. Argerich gave her debut concert in 1949 at the age of eight. The family moved to Europe in 1955, where Argerich studied with Friedrich Gulda in Austria, whom Argerich describes as one of her major influences.

Scaramuzza was born in 1885 in Crotone, in the heel of Italy's boot. In 1907 he boarded a ship for Buenos Aires. His studio was on Calle Lavalle

1959

Japan, 1965

13 March, 1965: Tokyo, Japan

Mozart: Piano Concerto No.20 in D minor, K.466

Beethoven: Piano Concerto No.5 in E-flat major, Op.73 (Emperor)

– Jindrich Rohan / Yomiuri Nippon Symphony Orchestra

9 April, 1965: Tokyo, Japan

Liszt: Piano Concerto No.1 in E-flat major, S.124

Ravel: Piano Concerto in G major

– Alexander Rumpf / NHK Symphony Orchestra

– Liszt also on Aura 2000-2, where it is marked 1965-04-04 and with the Yomiuri SO under Jindrich Rohan. (Christian Johansson)

When he did play, he traveled with two Steinway concert grands and his personal technician, the sartorial Cesare Augusto Tallone (who was also one of Italy’s leading piano makers.) It was a routine not without danger; during a 1965 tour of Japan one of the pianos was accidentally destroyed, smashed to bits by inattentive handlers on an airport tarmac.

Michelangeli's personal tuner Cesare Tallone, while preparing the piano in Tokyo, met with Yamaha technicians who wished to supervise his work. President Kawakami ordered a 3/4 grand piano, then came the request to oversee the construction of a 4/4 concert grand based on Tallone's concepts. In 1966, the grand piano, named Tamaki Miura, was born. This is the summary from newspaper and magazine articles, but let's read Cesare in his book:
"In Tokyo, I went early in the morning to the grand theatre to prepare Benedetti Michelangeli's instrument and already found groups of Yamaha technicians waiting for me, eager to follow my work. Invited by the great Japanese company, I went, encouraged by the Maestro himself, to Hamamatzu. Lovingly welcomed by President Kawakami, I received the order for one of my three-quarter grand pianos. When that instrument was found among the examples of all the top-class brands in the test room, the chief technician, Mr. Matzuyama, confided in me that he considered it the best. Consequently, I was called back to Hamamatzu with the primary task of directing the construction of a four-quarter grand concert piano according to my concepts. With the wealth of resources and above all the prestigious performance of the valiant technicians, the instrument was completed within two months. The new competition took place in the Hamamatzu theater. I was alongside the president and Mr. Matzuyama. On On the stage, grand pianos from the world's leading manufacturers were lined up; the last one on the right was the new model I had designed, bearing the initials "Tamaki Miura." The Japanese pianist in charge performed the same music on all the instruments. Before the rehearsal was even over, the audience rose to their feet and shouted "Banzai Tamaki Miura!" (cit., 1972).

I remember my uncle Cesarino enthusiastically describing the kindness of those ancient people who had reached the height of modernity, the extraordinary industriousness and unity of purpose of all the Yamaha workers, the warm welcome, and the almost devout attention to the teachings they had received. Tallone continued a long collaboration as an artistic consultant, and Japanese concert artists frequented Tallone in Milan and on the Island of San Giulio.

In Marco Mascardi's interview, Yamaha is mentioned, "which makes motorcycles... but also pianos, hundreds a day. Tallone is immediately enchanted by this idea: its secrets will be used to make better instruments, but for a huge number of pianists. He spends a year making a grand piano: here they get through it in a week, when they make the most valuable things. And so, this pact is born between Kawakami and Tallone: the Japanese company will know the right share of secrets but will send, in yearly shifts, some of its best craftsmen: and to them will be revealed the rest, which cannot be adapted to mass production. "Of course, they also gave me money... but I also wanted men to teach, more than my technique, the patience of technique. A grand piano is the result of almost magical geometries, it captures gigantic tensions and forces: if they were all able to be released at once, the instrument would explode like a bomb, a volcano, or something similar. Instead, through a balance to be mastered with infinite patience, energy becomes perfect sound, allowing itself to be guided through the paths, the walls arranged like the banks of a river: against which the water may seem to stop, and instead it is from the invisible impact that it draws new strength to continue its rapid descent towards the sea. In the sound box, all this is instantaneous: to master the sound, you must learn to see it...".

Unpublished documents from Cesare Augusto Tallone's Japanese period were recently acquired; we are awaiting their translation.

Cesare Augusto Tallone, Fede e lavoro, memorie di un accordatore, Milano 1971

Source

1965: With Nicola Filiberto di Matteo and Giuseppe Boccanegra, he founded the BDM record label in Bologna, for which he recorded Beethoven's Sonata Op. 111 and some sonatas by Scarlatti and Galuppi (later released by Decca). In Berlin, his last concerts with von Karajan.

Thursday 17 June, 1965: Royal Festival Hall, London, England

Grieg: Piano Concerto in A minor, Op.16 (also Hindemith's Music for Strings and Brass and Tchaikovsky's Symphony No.6 in B minor, Pathétique)

– Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos / New Philharmonia Orchestra

Issued on BBC Legends BBCL 4043-2

'This is a legendary performance of the Grieg. To many of us the best performance ever recorded. It is, without doubt, the version to buy. It stands skyscrapers above its nearest rivals. There are no flaws, no uncertainties just mind-boggling magic. And he makes this concerto into a very very powerful piece contradicting those performances that wallow and drag out sentimentality in nauseating pastel shades. (David Wright). I myself was thrilled when I first listened, but the pianist's opening phrases in the Adagio still seem insensitive and carelessly tossed-off.

Time Magazine, 9 July 1965 (Champs-Elysées recital)

A perfectionist with a penchant for turtleneck pullovers and gold-tipped Turkish cigarettes, Michelangeli has made only a few recordings because he has “never quite been satisfied with the quality of the sound.” On tour he travels with his own Steinway (“Can you imagine Oistrakh playing with Stern’s violin?”) and personal piano tuner, 71-year-old Cesare Augustus Tallone. With a surgeon’s knowledge of the piano’s inner workings, Michelangeli treats his Steinway like a high-strung child, recently relinquished it to be overhauled, explaining: “It’s still too young and hasn’t been broken in yet.” For the Paris concert, Tallone scoured the city for days to find a substitute piano, then spent 20 hours preparing it for the master’s hands—and feet. “The pedals are like my lungs,” explains Michelangeli. “Three notes with the right pedal work can become another world.”

Saturday, 7 August, 1965: Mozarteum, Salzburg, Austria; 9:00 pm,
Stiftung Mozarteum – Grosser Saal

– Salzburg Festival

Johann Sebastian Bach / Ferruccio Busoni: Chaconne in D minor
Ludwig van Beethoven: Sonata No. 3 in C major, Op. 2 No. 3
Claude Debussy: Reflets dans l´eau from Images I, L 110 No. 1
Hommage à Rameau from Image I, L 110 No. 2
Mouvement from Images I, L 110 No. 3
Cloches à travers les feuilles from Images II, L 111 No. 1
Et la lune descend sur le temps qui fût from Images II, L 111 No. 2
Poissons d'or from Images II, L 111 No. 3

Fryderyk Chopin
Berceuse in D flat major, Op. 57
Scherzo No. 2 in B-flat minor, Op. 31