​​​​​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. 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)

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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]

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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.'

Listen here

 

​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

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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 Fesitival. The Santa Cecilia Orchestra of Rome; Michelangeli will play with with conductor Fernando Previtali; Charles Much was also conducting this orchestra for 3 concerts. 

The Baalbeck International Festival (Arabic: مهرجانات بعلبك الدولية, romanized: Mahrajānāt Baʿlabakk ad-Duwaliyya) began in 1955.  It takes place in the city of Baalbek in the Beqaa Valley of Lebanon, amidst temples of Jupiter and Bacchus. Possibly ABM 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 float on the air.

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Benedetti Michelangeli struck by "Asiatic"

Bolzano, September 4. 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

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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.

 

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...

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"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.

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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. 

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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...

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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.

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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 Second and final tour of South Africa.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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1959

Benedetti Michelangeli's summer courses in Arezzo were filmed for a documentary directed and hosted by Maner Lualdi, later broadcast by RAI-TV.

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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]

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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

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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)!

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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.

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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.