Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli (1920-1995)

Prague 1957
In 1957, Michelangeli arrived in Prague for the Prague Spring Festival 'with a new addition to his repertoire, Beethoven's Fifth Concerto in E flat major' (actually he'd performed it as far back as November 1947). Ivan Jirko writes about his concert in the magazine Hudební rozhledy:
'Rarely has a solo performance provoked such discussions and disputes, such a diversity of opinions, as in this case. The artist, whom many foreign voices put on the level of Richter or Horowitz, was received by the audience with stormy enthusiasm, but by professional critics, for the most part, rather coolly and with very substantial reservations. […].'
On the technical side, Ivan Jirko confirms his “perfect” technique, “amazing in its sophistication and infallibility” but remarks on what will become the most typical characteristic of this artist over time, right after the topic of frequent cancellations of concerts, as Cord Garben explains: the so-called “Nachklappen” – letting the left hand slightly precede the right.
Such a practice is not found in any other major pianist. Konzertmeister Winfried Rüssmann
approached him while recording Mozart’s concertos in 1990 and asked Michelangeli for
an explanation. The pianist told him that he 'hears the music from below, i.e. from the low notes upwards, and in this way he lets them sound and this is how he intended to convey them to the listeners.' (Cord Garben p.181/ Katia Vendrame)
Wednesday, 29 May, 1957: Municipal House (Smetana Hall), Prague, Czechoslovakia. This was during the Prague Spring Festival.
Beethoven: Piano Concerto No.5 in E-flat major, Op.73 (Emperor)
– Vàclav Smetaček / Prague Symphony Orchestra
[Also Otakar Zich : Preciésky, overture to the opera; Witold Lutosławski : Concerto for Orchestra; Ottorino Respighi: Fountains of Rome]
Christian Johansson writes: 'This is one of my favourite recordings of the Emperor Concerto, and every hallmark of Michelangeli's playing is on display. Remarkable clarity of execution, refined and sophisticated phrasing, a tightly controlled sound, mind boggling digital dexterity, and a trademarked detached, cold, ultra-objective approach to music.'
Jonathan Woolf writes: 'As far as I’m concerned this Prague performance is Michelangeli all the way, with Smetáček very much a back-seat driver, very much the ‘star fiddler’s accompanist’. Michelangeli’s blend of glacial imperturbability, phrasal rapidity and rubato extremes create a frisson of instability at the keyboard. The recording, and indeed the playing, are treble orientated and there’s a milking of phrases that reflects poorly on the pianist. The slow movement is aristocratically brisk; some would say that, at this tempo, it’s less brisk than brusque. Rhetorical pauses blight a passage or two in the finale, but it all generates excited applause. Clearly there was a vivid visual and musical impression being made.'
Přehled Kulturních Pořadů v Praze, 1 May 1957 (Overview of Cultural Events in Prague) advertised this concert as Rachmaninov: Klavírní koncert č. 4, which is either a mistake or the result capricious, idiosyncratic behaviour on the part of ABM.
The next day, Thursday 30, AMB played a recital in the Rudolfinum – Dvořák Hall
Robert Schumann: Viennese Carnival Op. 26
Robert Schumann: Carnaval Op. 9
Claude Debussy: Images – selection
Fryderyk Chopin: Fantasie in F minor Op. 49
Fryderyk Chopin: Ballade in G minor Op. 23
Baalbek, Lebanon
1957: Beirut, Lebanon. Bach/Busoni: Chaconne from Violin Partita No.2 in D minor, BWV 1004 for radio broadcast.
15-28 August, Baalbek Festival. The Santa Cecilia Orchestra of Rome; Michelangeli will play with with conductor Fernando Previtali; Charles Munch was also conducting this orchestra for 3 concerts.
25 August, 1957 Baalbeck (Lebanon), Temple of Jupiter
Orchestra of the National Academy of Santa Cecilia conducted by Fernando Previtali
Vivaldi, Concerto in D minor
Beethoven, Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 73, "Emperor"
Manuel de Falla, El sombrero de tres picos, suite from the ballet
Musorgsky/Ravel, Pictures at an Exhibition, transcription for orchestra
The Baalbeck International Festival (Arabic: مهرجانات بعلبك الدولية, romanised: Mahrajānāt Baʿlabakk ad-Duwaliyya) began in 1955. It takes place in the city of Baalbek in the Beqaa Valley, Lebanon, amidst temples of Romans deities Jupiter, king and sky god, and Bacchus, god of wine and ecstasy. Possibly Benedetti Michelangeli took advantage of afternoon tea, served at the Palmyra Hotel. The creme de la creme of Beirut would have gathered in evening wear and the scent of cardamom would be floating lightly on the air.
Benedetti Michelangeli struck by "Asiatic"
Bolzano, 4 September. Maestro Benedetti Michelangeli has returned to Bolzano, returning from Lebanon, in less than perfect health. In fact, during his stay in Beirut, where he performed a series of concerts with the Santa Cecilia Orchestra, the maestro was struck by Asian flu, from which he has not yet recovered.
La Stampa, 5 September 1957
26 October, 1957, Bologna
Beethoven, Leonora n. 3; Concerto per pianoforte e orchestra n. 5 op. 73;
Mendelssohn, Quarta sinfonia op. 90; Liszt, Totentanz per pianoforte e orchestra.
Lee Shajnen, direttore d’orchestra.
19 November, 1957 in Naples - Conservatorio San Pietro a Majella:
Mozart, Concerto No.25 in C major K503
Franco Caracciolo conducting Alessandro Scarlatti della RAI di Napoli
London (through Polish eyes)
Polish newspaper Życie Warszawy (Ocotber 1957): 'According to information obtained from a PAGART representative, the arrival of the outstanding, Italian pianist, whom we already had the opportunity to hear at the last Chopin competition, is expected next spring.' Życie Warszawy makes no further mention...
"Big Ben", the London correspondent for Wiadomości filed this on 7 April 1957 (translated from Polish by Google, so beware):
A few years ago, probably during the Chopin Competition, the Italian pianist Arturo Michelangeli gave several concerts in Poland. The enthusiasm of Poles reached London: national magazines wrote extensively about him, telling of the crowds that couldn't get to the concerts, and vying with each other with adjectives: the greatest, the inspired, the only one, the brilliant. The same admiration was echoed in private letters.
And London was silent. Michelangeli doesn't come to the concerts, no one mentions him, no one seems to have heard of him. It's useless to scan the posters, look for mentions in the newspapers, or listen on the radio for his records. As in Lechoń's poem: "There is only Michelangeli. And he's gone."
Suddenly, after several years of waiting, the name "Michelangeli" appeared from the walls plastered with posters. In small letters on an inconspicuous poster, the kind used to announce concerts by debuting stars. Finally! Tickets were bought for a symphony concert, a recital, and before that, they'd listen to a concert on the BBC. The radio opened a few minutes too late—and it was already playing.
"Wonderful, what a hit! They were right," says one expert.
Another, even better one, doesn't like anything: "What did they see in him!"
The third one grimaced that the Rachmaninoff announced in the program was strange.
They listened intently until the break.
Replacing the indisposed Michelangeli, Shura Cherkassky played Tchaikovsky... the kind speaker announced.
"This time I certainly won't cancel a single concert," Michelangeli was supposed to have said upon arriving in London.
The newspapers recalled that when he was here in 1952, his concert at Albert Hall was canceled due to theft. Bad luck is bad luck, and it's best not to swear. He had to cancel his concert at the BBC and his first concert with the orchestra. When the day of the recital arrived, there were so many inquiries at the Royal Festival Hall that, to avoid phone calls, they had to paste a notice on the posters assuring them that Michelangeli would be back.
At the concert, a real surprise occurred. This pianist, who hadn't come to London, hadn't been advertised, seemingly unknown, and had a nearly full house. How did they hear about him? An Englishwoman had heard him in Sicily and brought friends with her; a few Poles knew about him from Poland, but the rest?
Pale, with the appearance of a tired clerk, with a thin blond moustache, Michelangeli has nothing of the captivating artist about him. He plays very well, belonging to that class of pianists whose technique is so obvious that it's no longer discussed; his interpretation is probably, from a professional standpoint, flawless. But...
That "but" was the first in the reviews, full of compliments in the form of lukewarm appreciation and the audience's reaction.
Flawless. But...
That "but" was the first in the reviews, full of compliments, but also in the audience's reaction. Not for a moment did the audience feel any understanding of the artist, or the tension that great art evokes. People applauded politely, because that's what they always do, even at worse concerts; they would gladly have listened to encores for their money, but when Michelangeli let himself be asked for too long and played only once, they accepted it and went home without a moment's protest. Attending this concert seemed more like fulfilling a cultural obligation than an artistic experience. Perhaps the artist's indisposition contributed to this—Michelangeli was constantly wiping sweat from himself and the keyboard, leaving the piano, clutching his heart, and each time returning to bow, he would still swallow some medicine. It wouldn't have surprised anyone, really. In fact, no one would have been surprised if the concert had been interrupted. Regardless of personal sympathy for him, the anxiety about whether he would last until the end distracted the audience.
Perhaps Michelangeli was different in Warsaw. In London, his music was forgotten at the threshold of the concert hall. If he ever comes here again, it is unknown whether the mysterious legend surrounding him, which this time filled the hall, will survive..
1958
11 May 1958, Rome, Teatro Argentina
Orchestra of the National Academy of Santa Cecilia
conductor: Fernando Previtali, piano: Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli
Mozart Serenade in G major for string orchestra K. 525 "Eine kleine Nachtmusik"
Mozart Concerto No. 20 in D minor for piano and orchestra K. 466
Strauss Don Juan, symphonic poem op. 20
Ravel Concerto in G major for piano and orchestra
23 June 1958, Palais des Beaux Arts, Brussels. With Nino Sanzogno: Ravel Concerto & Mozart K466 (also Respighi Feste Romani etc.)
Second and final tour of South Africa. [dates? ABM played with Mackerras in February 1959]
One reason for which Charles Mackerras had left Sadler's Wells London to experience conducting symphonic music; he was pleased to be offered a season in Cape Town. He left London In November and returned in March the following year. It was the first time he conducted Janaček's Sinfonietta, for which he brought in extra brass from Simonstown Naval Base. A soloist for the season was Michelangeli [10 March 1959 with the City of Cape Town Municipal Orchestra], who seemed to like Charles and took down his London address, gave him an introduction to his own agent in Italy and requested him as conductor for all his concerts, which was gratifying but rather alarming at times. (Nancy Phelan, 1987)
The date is to be found in a copy of the programme contained in the files of Scottish composer Eric Chisholm, who in 1946, was appointed Professor of Music at the University of Cape Town and Director of the South African College of Music).
25? October 1958, La Scala: Beethoven 5 with Ferenc Fricsay. Corrriere 26.10.58
Benedetti Michelangeli, che gludicano grandissimo ancorchè italiano, non ha certo deluso in questo suo Beethoven (crediamo realizzato per la prima volta da lui), quella stregua che in precedenza aveva entusiasmato con le riproduzioni di Mozart, Rachmaninoff, Ravel e via via.
Benedetti Michelangeli, who is considered to be a great [pianist] despite being Italian, certainly did not disappoint in this Beethoven of his (we believe it was his first performance), the same level that had previously enthused him with his reproductions of Mozart, Rachmaninoff, Ravel and so on.
31 October 1958, Bologna
Cimarosa, La bella greca, Ouverture; Grieg, Concerto per pianoforte e orchestra op. 16; Rachmaninov, Seconda sinfonia op. 27.
Ettore Gracis, direttore d’orchestra.
In Jornal do Brasil RJ (1.11.58), Renzo Massarani interviews Italian pianist Natuscia Calza, who studied at the Conservatory of Muse, received the Grand Prix de Virtuosité in Geneva (1952), and a diploma from the Academy of St. Cecilia in Rome (1955). She perfected her music, and with her beautiful Roman accent, which she displayed, she traveled to Germany, Austria, Colombia, Peru, Chile, Argentina, and Uruguay. She came to visit me and, with her beautiful Roman accent that he displayed in the dialect of Milan (the city where he currently lives), she shared some news about piano in Italy today:
The Italian school of piano, for Natuscia Calza - especially in three names: Arturo Benedetti Michelangelo, CarIo Zecchi, Guido Agosti. "For Michelangeli, every concert is an improvisation; let us then ensure that everything is arranged in such a way that, in this improvisation, the character of the work is not compromised, and that no detail is neglected — details which, together, produce the clarity and 'cleanliness' necessary for a faithful realization of the piece."
Para Michelangeli, "todo concerto é uma improvisação; procuremos então que tudo seja predisposto para que nesta improvisação, não fique prejudicado o caráter da obra, não sejam descuidados os pormenores que - em conjunto - produzem a clareza e a "limpeza" necessárias para uma flel realização da obra.
1959
Benedetti Michelangeli's summer courses in Arezzo were filmed for a documentary directed and hosted by Maner Lualdi, later broadcast by RAI-TV.
10 February 1959, Cape Town: see above [1958].
A website on Cesare Augusto Tallone, ABM's tuner, has this: 'Although he does not mention the dates, Tallone talks about the tours in the company of Michelangeli in his book (Milan 1971). He mentions London..., he also writes that he got to know Germany, Austria, Portugal, Spain [40-41], he went as far as Montreal and Toronto [48 - 50]; he got to know Israel and Jerusalem [1967 (1968?].
Cesare Tallone focuses in his book in particular on the Athens-Khartoum-Johannesburg tour (see his book chapter "Flight to the South"). He makes numerous observations in the chapter "From Travel Notes in South Africa," regarding the natural beauty and misery of South Africa. Tallone, though his spirit is focused—and inspired—on the perennial search for harmony and beauty, is not insensitive to his surroundings, and here his profoundly human gaze focuses on the social discrimination of those places. He reports on the miracle performed by Michelangeli and the Boccherini Orchestra, resulting in the enormous attendance at the concerts in Johannesburg. He does not mention the date, so I thank Stefano Biosa, founder of the “Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli” Documentation Centre, who confirms it to be February-March 1959.'
ABM gave a concert in the Aula Magna of the University of Perugia on Tuesday 26 May 1959, during the celebrations of the 650 years from the foundation. In 1947, the pianist had made his debut in Perugia with a concert at the Sala dei Notari in June and another
at the Galleria Nazionale dell'Umbria in December for the newly formed
Association of Friends of Music, where he became almost a regular guest
thanks to its president Alba Buitoni: he played again in 1948, 1949, 1951, and 1957.
Regarding Clementi (whose sonata ABM played), the critic of "La Nazione," is careful to point out that this composer, "considered the boring teacher of Gradus […] for many boys condemned to the piano prison," stands "at the origin of nineteenth-century piano discourse," and Beethoven, who as is well known did not have a large library, owned "a good supply of Clementi's sonatas," read and studied them.
[Bollettino della Deputazione di storia patria per l’Umbria, CXVII (2020), fasc. I-II, Biancamaria Brumana]
Sunday 10 May, 1959, Auditorio Pio, Rome
Orchestra of the National Academy of Santa Cecilia
conductor: Fernando Previtali
Mozart Serenade in D major for orchestra K. 320 "Posthorn"
Mozart Concerto No. 25 in C major for piano and orchestra K. 503
Mozart Concerto No. 13 in C major for piano and orchestra K. 415
Mozart Concerto No. 23 in A major for piano and orchestra K. 488
Sunday 24 May 1959, Auditorio Pio, Rome; 6pm
Galuppi Sonata in C major
Clementi Sonata in E flat major for piano
Chopin Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor for piano, Op. 35
Ravel Gaspard de la nuit, for piano
Chopin Grande polonaise brilliant preceded by an Andante spianato, for piano op. 22
30 June, 1959: BBC’s Maida Vale Studios, London, England (radio broadcast ; issued on BBC Legends)
Muzio Clementi (1752-1832): Piano Sonata in B-flat major, Op.12 No.1
Chopin: Piano Sonata No.2 in B-flat minor, Op.35
Ravel: Gaspard de la Nuit
The Genome Project seems to indicate this was first broadcast on Monday 6 Mar 1972, 15:10 on BBC Radio 3 (which surely cannot be correct)!
The Clementi piece dates from circa 1782; The finale of the this sonata is a charming set of variations on ‘Je suis Lindor’, Antoine-Laurent Baudron’s setting of the romanze from Beaumarchais’ Barbier de Séville
Clementi was born in 1752 in Rome, where he received his earliest musical education. Then at the age of thirteen he moved to England, and made his home there for the remainder of his life, first as a teenager in Dorset, thereafter in London, and at the very end in Lichfield (Staffordshire) and Evesham (Worcestershire), where he died at the age of eighty in 1832.
After having left the Bolzano Conservatory in 1959, Michelangeli planned on setting up a high-level international piano course, in which to accomplish his teaching mission to the full. But the Ministry was slow in recognising his great merits and in meeting his requests. So he decided to set up a small private school in what seemed to him to be the most suitable place, in the silence of the mountains; he purchased two mountain chalets in Val di Rabbi, on the Tridentine side of the Stelvio National Park; he used one of them as a home and the other as a centre for the courses. Here he spent a brief period of peace and serenity, surrounded by nature in the stillness of the alpine landscapes, the ideal setting for his activity as a musician, enriched in the meantime by a new experience: the harmonisation of nineteen songs of the S.A.T. chorus, which he had begun successfully working together with years earlier, in 1954.
Petrof pianos
The story does not begin, as would perhaps be appropriate for a grand narrative about the Hradec Králové region, in Hradec Králové, but in Prague, in a quiet alley on Letná. A young Czech pianist, Ivan Moravec, has returned from his first wanderings abroad. He was lucky. The famous Italian pianist Arturo Benedetti-Michelangeli heard him playing during his trip to the Prague Spring concert (1957) and invited him to his Arezzo. Every year, fifteen or twenty young talented people gather there, in Italy, whom Michelangeli selects on his travels around the world. He works with them for a month, the pianos sound for a month in that magical city of the poet Francesco Petrarch, the satirist Pietro Aretino and the famous physicist, the father of musical notation, Guido of Arezzo. And how can we be surprised that after such an experience he wants to sit with friends and talk about music, about talent, about hope, about the sun. "Proud people don't let anything be said," the student recalls in a silent monologue of the past moment with the great teacher. — "No, no, he doesn't want you to do what he does. — / 'No artist can do that,' he always pointedly emphasized. — 'Do with it as I advise you, whatever you want.' I played Mozart for him. He came up to me and listened. In two hours I no longer knew my name. I looked at Michelangeli and saw that he had a ready opinion about my playing. And yet I felt that he was not forcing me to do anything, that he only wanted me to think about his words. 'You play Mozart softly, too softly,' Michelangeli told me when I had finished. 'Più naturale, più normale. Do you understand me?' he insisted. And I remained silent and yet I wished to hear more. 'You know,' he continued to my delight — 'vocal expression is the most natural, human singing is the most beautiful, and that is precisely what is in Mozart's piano. In the piano the orchestra must be heard, more tones, everything must sing!' And the young artist interrupted his monologue, jumped up to the piano: 'Like this, you hear, like this it must sing!' The record clicked and hot words were being written into the dark room: "I was afraid that my Mozart would not be stylish enough for him, and yet. — Everything I resisted, everything I denied myself, turned out to be right." "And also," and this was already in the full light of the room, "I forgot to tell you that Michelangeli plays the Petrof. He says it is an excellent piano, the best in the world." * And Michelangeli is not the only one who considers the Petrof to be a great instrument. But that is long after Ivan Moravec's dark hour, when we look through the venerable book in a solid leather binding. It is full of entry after entry. One more famous name than another. There is perhaps no more important Czech musical artist who would not pay tribute to the Czech piano. And among those who came from all corners of the world to give concerts in Prague, or even to visit here in Hradec, there are the most famous names. Starting with the famous Soviet pianist Richter and ending with Manuel Vargas Catano, who wrote in the memorial book: "Go ahead, cooperate with your instruments in the culture of the whole world by softening hearts with musical art and thus making the world a better place." "It has always been said," they tell us here, "that the American Steinway is the best. And it is true that the American music industry has a high standard. Well, and yet today we can boldly compete with them. Our Petrof is as good as Steinway. And there are even artists who claim that our Petrof is better." The map hanging in the director's office tells quite modestly that Czech pianos sound almost all over the globe. South America, Mexico, and even the United States of North America, which is a rarity with their advanced piano industry, Italy, Spain, Greece, Cyprus, Syria, Lebanon, Sudan, the Scandinavian countries, Hungary, Romania, Yugoslavia, China, Vietnam, Afghanistan and New Zealand, and are starting to export to the Soviet Union. Before we ask to see the production of this wonderful instrument of human understanding, we are interested in the list of countries where our pianos are imported, such as Malaysia or Indonesia. "Will nothing happen to those pianos in tropical and subtropical climates? After all, we still remember how teachers
...
Almost everything depends on the soundboard. The wood chosen for the soundboard determines the sound of the piano. That is why the most experienced ones go out to choose the right wood. They go out to look for the desired sounding spruces. The tree must be old, it must grow from a certain soil, it also depends on the climate and even the sun, which will give the wood the right properties. Such spruces grow in Romania, Bukovina, but also in Slovakia, Šumava, the Jeseníky Mountains, the Krkonoše Mountains and even the Beskydy Mountains. The soul of the piano is therefore captured. But everything is far from over. To be ready to give out all its tenderness, all its beauty, all its wisdom, all its passion — that is still a long way to go. The soundboard spruces were felled in winter, during the dormant period. And then they were taken to Chlumec nad Cidlinou, where there is a special sawmill, and there they will begin to process them. And from there, the prepared and processed wood will be sent to the main piano factory, in Hradec Králové. However, the soundboard is not the only part of the piano.
Květy, 12 June 1958