Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli (1920-1995)
Chopin 1955
Warsaw 1955
After a long break, Michelangeli's first appearance was in Warsaw as juror during the
5th Chopin Festival (22 February-21 March). He resigned in protest, as Vladimir Ashkenazy, who he believed should have won, finished second to Polish pianist Adam Harasiewicz (aged 23) by a small margin. The competition ran 21 February to 20 March 1955, and the prize was 30,000 zlotys. Competitors were accommodated in the Hotel Polonia, where 70 practice pianos were installed.
Vladimir Ashkenazy was born in 1937, in Gorky, Soviet Union (now Nizhny Novgorod, Russia). Composer Witold Lutosławski was also on the panel of judges.
Michelangeli insulted the panel in very harsh words, and left without signing the records. He had disagreed with the chairman Zbigniew Drzewiecki, who happened to be Harasiewicz's teacher. (Harasiewicz came later to study with ABM)
Warsaw 1955
'There was a great surprise when ABM spontaneously decided to perform himself
on his days off between his individual shifts [on the jury].' [Cord Garben, p.24]
Sunday 13 March, 1955: National Philharmonic Hall, Warsaw, Poland (recital rescheduled from 7th)
Bach/Busoni: Ciaccona, Chaconne from Violin Partita No.2 in D minor, BWV 1004
Beethoven: Piano Sonata No.3 in C major, Op.2 No.3
Scarlatti: Four Sonatas - K.27 in B minor, K.11 in C minor, K.9 in D minor, K.322 in A major
Schumann: Faschingsschwank aus Wien (Fantasiebilder), Op.26
Encores: Debussy: Hommage à Rameau (Images, Book I No.2 in G# minor); Chopin: Waltz in E-flat major, Op.posth (B.46); Brahms: Variations on a theme by Paganini, Op.35 [edited by Michelangeli]
(The Waltz in E flat, a posthumous work by Chopin, which had recently been discovered and published.)
27 March, 1955: Warsaw, Poland (the date was actually 27 February - see the section below)
Schumann: Piano Concerto in A minor, Op.54 (did he give an earlier performance on 27 February?)
– Witold Rowicki / Warsaw National Philharmonic Orchestra
'The fact that Michelangeli further agreed to perform two concerts there as well [as serving as juror] was shocking, and the fact that he actually gave them was stunning.'
ABM gave an interview to Życie Warszawy on 2 March 1955. 'You'd probably like to hear a bit about my impressions of Warsaw now? Well, I can't say much about that yet. I only know—but very, very thoroughly—the Polonia-Philharmonic section. I'm not talking about any minor excursions to Nowy Świat, Krakowskie, or MDM [= his hotel?], because that's not quite it yet. I'm just getting ready to explore your capital in detail. When will that be? After the Competition ends, of course.
- And what are your plans for the near future?
Very... busy. 22 concerts in 25 days. Where? In Germany and Switzerland. What will the programme of these concerts be? Among other things, it includes two Mozart concertos (the penultimate and last), the Schumann concerto, which I played in Warsaw, and Chopin's "Krakowiak."' [See below]
[Chciałby pan zapewne usłyszeć teraz coś niecoś o moich wrażeniach z Warszawy? Otóż na ten temat niewiele jeszcze mogę powiedzieć. Znam bowiem jedynie - ale już za to bardzo, bardzo dokładnie lonia - odcinek Polonia- Filharmonia. O jakichś tam niewielkich wypadzikach na Nowy Świat czy Krakowskie albo MDM nie mówię bo to jeszcze “nie to". Szykuję się dopiero na dokładne zwiedzenie waszej stolicy. Kiedy to nastąpi? Oczywiście po zakończeniu Konkursu.
A jakie pan ma plany na najbliższą przyszłość?
- Bardzo... robocze. 22 koncerty w ciągu 25 dni. Gdzie? W Niemczech i w Szwajcarii. Jaki będzie program tych koncertów? Między innymi obejmuje on 2 koncerty Mozarta (przedostatni i ostatni). Koncert Schumanna, który grałem w Warszawie, oraz „Krakowiaka" Chopina.]
Express Wieczorny, 15 March 1955
Next week will bring two musical surprises to Warsaw residents. The first is a concert by the Orkiestra Filharmonii Narodowej with the participation of the renowned Russian Jakub Żak, who this time will perform three piano concertos in one evening: Rachmaninoff's Concerto No. 4, the same composer's Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini, and Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 1 in C major. Jakub Żak's performance will take place on Tuesday, the 22nd of this month, presumably at 7:00 PM in the National Philharmonic Hall. The second surprise is another performance by Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli. It will likely be a recital, the programme of which has not yet been determined. Arturo Benedetti is scheduled for Wednesday, the 23rd of this month, also at the National Philharmonic Hall.
Express Wieczorny, 14 March 1955
It's evening. Crowds of people in front of the Philharmonic building. In a few minutes, the long-awaited, highly anticipated recital by Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli will begin (13 March). The lucky ticket holders are struggling to get through. There's still a line of those hoping to buy tickets at the ticket office. "Have you been waiting long today?" "Not really, I came after lunch at two. When I want to be at the Competition, I always arrive at 5..." "What's that? Was it easier to get a ticket after the afternoon auditions began?" "No, you didn't understand. I'm talking about 5, but in the morning."
JÓZEF KAŃSKI in Trybuna Ludu (Warsaw) 17 March 1955, one of the largest newspapers in communist Poland, which circulated between 1948 and 1990:
' "The pen falls from my hand, for words cannot express such perfection," wrote a Warsaw critic several decades ago, impressed by the playing of the great Polish pianist Józef Hofmann (who was only 22 years old at the time). The same words come to mind today, after a concert by the Italian artist Arturo Michelangeli. Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, one of the stars in the firmament of contemporary music planning, was previously unknown to Polish music lovers, except for the few who happened to "catch" him on the radio or obtain some recordings.
'How does Arturo Michelangeli play? It's truly difficult to describe. Why? One could discuss at length the particularly brilliant passages he played—the incomparable cadenza in Schumann's A minor Concerto (?this cannot be the concert of 27th which is yet to take place), the extraordinary interpretation of the coda (ending) of the first movement of that Concerto, played "sempre stringendo e diminuendo sin al fine" (ever faster and ever quieter until the end), the fantastically colourful Allegro and Scherzino in Schumann's "Faschingschwank," the almost superhuman precision of Scarlatti's Sonatas, the titanic power of the ending of Bach's "Chaconne"—but all this will fail to give the reader any picture of Michelangeli's playing.
'Jerzy Broszkiewicz is absolutely right when he writes about the inappropriateness of concepts such as "performance" or "reproduction." An artist of Michelangeli's stature does not "recreate" a musical work, but, as it were, creates it anew. Michelangeli's playing is in fact "creative," revealing, to an extraordinary degree, allowing us to discern new, previously unsuspected values in works seemingly well-known and "played."
'Michelangeli's richness of sound is unparalleled—at times powerful and massive, at times light and airy. This allows the artist a colossal plasticity of polyphony, often unexpectedly bringing out voices and themes hidden in the thicket of sound.
'Special gratitude is due to Michelangeli for the fact that, despite his undoubted fatigue, probably caused not so much by the massive program of Sunday's recital, but by his still-poor health, he allowed himself, thanks to the universal and truly extraordinary enthusiasm of the audience, to be persuaded to perform a whole series of encores. Among them were three Sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti, which he plays in a completely unusual way. Among them was a Chopin piece unknown even to some Chopin enthusiasts, namely the posthumously published Waltz in E-flat major from his youth.' (JÓZEF KAŃSKI)
Express Wieczorny, 26 March 1955
Below is our correspondent's report, describing the stay in Krakow of the participants of the 5th International Fryderyk Chopin Competition. Thursday morning dawned overcast in Krakow, and the forenoon brought rain. This unfavourable weather doesn't faze any of the Grand Hotel's residents. At 10 a.m., we all board the coach and set off for Wawel. Two cars actually depart from the hotel: our coach and the Polskie Padio broadcast van, which constantly accompanies us on all our journeys. After a 10-minute drive, we arrive. From the castle's outer courtyard, we pass through a long, vaulted hall to the rooms where the "Veit Stoss" altar was placed after its renovation. [...]
The Chopin Competition participants, who are enjoying themselves in Krakow, are generating widespread interest. Yesterday, a long line of city residents lined up in front of the hotel. No pianist could pass without signing at least several dozen autographs. Everyone was asking about the Polish pianists, who, in the first group of Competition participants, traveled from Warsaw directly to Zakopane. In the evening, the pianists, who were enjoying themselves in Krakow, went to the Philharmonic. The hall hadn't accommodated such a large audience in a long time. Arturo Benedetti, Michelangeli, was playing. Before the recital began, the audience spotted Vladimir Ashkenazy, Fu-Tsung, and Bernard Ringeissen on the first-floor balcony. Applause erupted into an ovation. The young pianists rose and bowed in thanks for the warm welcome. Then came the recital. The program included Bach, Beethoven, Schumann, and Brahms, and finally, eight magnificent encores. The audience rises to their feet, applauding the great Italian artist. See also here
Życie Literackie, 3 April 1955
This 35-year-old pianist and teacher had been silent for the past two years, not giving concerts due to poor health; these performances in Warsaw and Krakow were his first since recovering from a serious illness. It must be stated immediately, however, that Benedetti Michelangeli is a true pianistic phenomenon. One comes face to face with a talent of this magnitude perhaps only once every 10 or 20 years. (...)
When, in the Chaconne, the moment comes when the player reaches the peak of his interpretive possibilities, when—it would seem—nothing more shocking could be heard; Benedetti gives us an even more magnificent finale, a Bach that takes our breath away! After the Chaconne, the recital programme brought Beethoven's Sonata, Op. 2, No. 3. And here comes a new experience. I'm not talking about the extraordinarily logical construction, unappealing in its validity, I'm not talking about a completely different kind of sound, about the unforgettable Adagio, which captivated the listeners more than all the most spectacular allegros and prestos, but simply about the whole, about Beethoven, who, thanks to the Italian pianist's interpretation, showed us his great work once again in a new, magnificent light. (...)
His interpretation of Brahms's "Variations, Op. 35, on a Theme of Paganini" serves as an example. Benedetti omitted some of the Variations, emphasized others; he gave them greater weight, subordinating individual parts to the whole work, from which he created an exceptionally unified, logical, and constantly evolving whole. Here, too, we could most fully admire the richness of his tone. The piano ceased to be a piano—it became some mysterious instrument from which Benedetti extracted literally—whatever he wanted. And he wanted very much. Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli's recital is an event that, I believe, we will remember in 10 years with the same enthusiasm with which we welcomed the great artist to our concert halls. And if it happens that Benedetti, who rarely performs these days due to his health, decides to visit Poland again, we will consider it an exceptionally joyful musical event. • LUCJAN KYDRYŃSKI
.....
These musical performances were a great success and were admired by all listeners, although in early 1955 the pianist announced publicly that he would not be giving concerts for some time due to a serious lung disease and severe depression. (Cord Garben)
The success of these concerts was immediately reported to Giuliana Benedetti Michelangeli, who received a warm telegram, which read: “A wonderful and moving concert. Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli has blown everyone and everything away. Congratulations.”
Vivo successo in Polonia di A. Benedetti Michelangeli. Corriere della Sera, 2. 3. 1955.
ABM mentions (above) Chopin's Rondo à la Krakowiak in F major, Op. 14 is for piano and orchestra. It was written in 1828 and dedicated to Princess Anna Zofia Sapieha, whose mother, Izabela Czartoryska, was influential in shaping the burgeoning Romantic aesthetic in Poland, particularly through the Temple of [Polish] Memory in Puławy.
Życie Radomskie, 11 March 1955
Jerzy Broszkiewicz (1922 –1993) was a Polish prose writer, playwright, essayist, and publicist. He is best known for his dramas and young-adult literature. The young-adult literature usually took the form of historical or science-fiction novels. The dramas were performed in Poland and abroad, and his works were translated into at least 20 languages, with total print runs exceeding a million copies.
He wrote plays for theatre, radio, and television, as well as screenplays, essays, and critical writings on music and culture. His most acclaimed works include Kształt miłości (1950–51), a novelized biography of Frédéric Chopin, and Wielka, większa i największa (1960), a widely-read youth novel that was adapted into a feature film and was included in Polish school curricula during the People's Republic period.
Domenico Scarlatti (1685 - 1757)
The first Scarlatti sonata which ABM plays in his Warsaw recital is a favourite of mine
(B minor, K27) but here it is rushed and for the most part charmless. You need to go for example to Mikhail Pletnev (b.1957, Arkhangelsk) to hear a pianist digging deeply into it (with an equally superb technique). ABM's Scarlatti can often seem to me a form of a technical exercise, a Czerny for the fingers. In general, Pletnev's Scarlatti is for me hors concours - and yes, I have heard Horowitz.
In 1951, the first qualifying rounds for candidates for the 5th International Fryderyk Chopin Piano Competition began in Katowice. Thirty-five pianists entered; twenty were awarded Chopin scholarships. Training camps were planned in 1952 in Łagów Lubuski and in 1953 in Sopot. The idea was for the best Polish piano professors to work collectively to prepare young Chopin players for the Competition. The work was intensive, periodically monitored and evaluated by the entire teaching team.
The most talented and, unfortunately, unruly were Harasiewicz and Tchaikovsky, each in a different respect. Adam already possessed colossal technical facility and beautiful touches; it was more difficult for him to master and realise problems of form and structure.
In the summer of 1953, preparations for the Competition were still underway in Sopot.
The participants made enormous progress, and the collective work consisted essentially of finishing and polishing the competition repertoire.
77 participants represented 25 countries. For the first time, pianists from such exotic countries as China, Ceylon, South Africa, Ecuador, Iran, and Singapore performed. The Polish candidates enjoyed particular interest. Harasiewicz generated general sympathy. Before the first stage performance, a striking photo of Adam with a chimney sweep, who had visited him "for good luck," appeared in the press. And luck was indeed on his side. Equally outstanding was Vladimir Ashkenazi, a student of Professor Oborin, very young but gifted with extraordinary talent, maturity, and phenomenal technique. Unrivaled in the first and second rounds, he lowered his chances in the third round. A revelation of a different kind was Fu T'Sung, a pianist from Beijing, who had been studying with Professor Drzewiecki in Poland for a year.
In the third stage, concerts were performed with the National Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of Z. Górzyński, M. Mierzejewski, and B. Wodiczko. This stage was decisive. Harasiewicz shone in his concert, while Aszkenazi wasn't as brilliant as before. This was the decisive factor in awarding priority to the Pole.
Jerzy Żurawlew, A więc konkurs : wspomnienia twórcy międzynarodowych konkursów Chopinowskich (1995), p.31ff. (with no mention of the controversy of ABM's participation)
Schumann w Warszawie
All the information in this section has generously been sent to me by Ди́на, Dina/ Diana (Siberia), who has also transcribed the extracts in English from Notes of a Moscow pianist.
On 27 February, 1955, the Schumann Concerto was performed in a packed hall of the Warsaw Philharmonic with conductor Witold Rowicki; the recording date is often mistakenly given as 27 March, 1955, but the concert with the orchestra in Warsaw was the only one and took place on 27 February.
ABM's performance immediately aroused admiration and warm recognition. The audience was delighted, critics and colleagues were deeply impressed, newspaper articles were full of articles and notes. But few people know that soon after this concert, Arturo Benedetti filed a complaint to the Minister of Culture and Art of Poland in connection with the unsatisfactory performance of the orchestra.
«Irritated and anxious about the orchestral part quality during the Competition participants’ performances in the finals, Benedetti-Michelangeli decided to lodge a complaint against Rowicki with Włodzimierz Sokorski, Minister of Culture and Art».
[See Bohdan Wodiczko’s Programming Policies at Warsaw Philharmonic (1955-1958). Toward the Warsaw Autumn, by Michał Klubiński, University of Warsaw in Musicology Today, vol.14 (December 2017)]
‘Music critics present at this concert – such as Lucjan Kydryński, Józef Kański and Jerzy Wojciechowski – noticed that the orchestra was clearly indisposed, and made evident
mistakes in the wind instrument parts. Irritated and anxious about the orchestral part quality during the Competition participants’ performances in the finals, Benedetti-Michelangeli decided to lodge a complaint against Rowicki with Włodzimierz Sokorski, Minister of Culture and Art. The later called Bohdan Wodiczko in Cracow several days later and asked him a direct question: “Could you lead the Philharmonic in Warsaw, sir?” Surprised at first, Wodiczko replied that Warsaw Philharmonic already had its director – Witold Rowicki – but when he heard about the orchestra’s blunders, he agreed to come to Warsaw for negotiations. Eventually, after a conversation in which Wiktor Weinbaum, Minister and Music Department Director, also took part, Wodiczko agreed to take up the posts of artistic director and principal conductor at Warsaw Philharmonic and was appointed to these positions as of 1st September 1955.’
Bohdan Wodiczko had been the first conductor of the Filharmonia Bałtycka in Gdańsk (1946-50). From 1951 he worked at the National Philharmonic in Kraków, and as a lecturer at Kraków's National Higher Music School from 1953. [In the years 2002-2013 Antoni Wit (1944- ) was the Managing and Artistic Director of Warsaw Philharmonic; and as of the 2024/2025 season, the Music & Artistic Director is Krzysztof Urbański (b.1982)]
Notes of a Moscow pianist
There is also an interesting reflection of what was happening at the
competition from one of its participants who reached the final. Dmitry
Paperno (1929-2020), a Soviet participant, took 6th place at the 5th
International Chopin Competition. Much later, he wrote a book (Notes
of a Moscow pianist [1998])
His memoirs are testimony both to admiration for Michelangeli and to
the modesty of the Italian pianist. Here are several fragments from the
book.
'The youngest in the jury were the beautiful Flora Guerra Vial (1920-1993, Chile; she had studied with Rosita Renard) and the strange, reserved Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli. All we knew about the latter was that he had received the seventh prize in Brussels in 1938, when Emil Gilels won first and Yakov Flier took third place.
The scores Michelangeli was giving out were frightening: ten, six, and even three points (“unsatisfactory” and “failure”). From the first stage of the competition he liked only a few performers, Ashkenazy best of all. [Page 86]
One evening I was sitting with Ashkenazy getting ready to listen to Michelangeli play the Schumann Concerto. The very first phrase made us prick up our ears and, as the Americans say, that was it. One did not want to miss one note of this magic. The music, long familiar, was now filled with a new sense of wisdom and kindness. He communicated the same impression with two Scarlatti sonatas as encores.
…
One could not merely say of his playing, “gorgeous sound, impeccable technique, touch,” and so on. Everything was brought to an almost unbelievable perfection. But even that was not the main thing.
Later, when Moscow musicians asked us what had moved us in Michelangeli’s playing, we could not find the right words. Humanity would be, perhaps, the closest, but it doesn’t get specific enough unless you listened to this amazing musician yourself. We went backstage afterward to express our delight and gratitude for his Schumann, only to be told by Michelangeli, “You haven’t heard Lipatti!” [Page 89]
After this official ending, all the participants who remained in Poland were entertained with a trip to old Krakow, one of Europe’s most beautiful cities. There Michelangeli repeated his Warsaw recital programme, although he had a temperature and the concert had to be delayed one hour…
Again, as in Warsaw, the audience was bewitched. After the concert, the ovation did not quieten down for about fifteen minutes. Suddenly, responding to the audience, he sat down at the piano and repeated as an encore Brahms’ Paganini Variations with the same degree of brilliance and perfection.
At this, Oborin finally admitted, “Yes, this young man can play the piano,” and from his lips such praise meant a lot. [Page 94]
(Lev Nikolayevich Oborin was a Soviet and Russian pianist, composer and pedagogue. He was the winner of the first International Chopin Piano in 1927).
At one point in his book, Paperno mentions that in the "green room" 'a big bottle of valerian tincture (a popular European sedative) sat on the table; we were told that it was empty by the end of each day". He also notes that at one point he and Askenazy ran into ABM in the corridor of the hotel. "What do you think about a Rachmaninoff's fourth concerto?" he asked us. I do not recall how Vova answered. as for me, at the time i took great interest in this music, and said so, to his obvious pleasure. Only several years later, when his amazing recording became available in Moscow, did I recall this conversation.
1955-56
18 September, 1955: Teatro La Fenice, Venice, Italy: Biennale Musica –
Franco Margola (1908-1992): Kinderkonzert n.1 per pianoforte e orchestra (1954)
– Franco Caracciolo / Unidentified orchestra
This is rare repertoire indeed, and there may even be reason (aside from the delightful musical merits) :Margola was born in the same village/town as Michelangeli - Orzinuovi, Brescia, on 30 October 1908.
Listen to the Kinderkonzert here with Ruggero Ruocco; and to Michelangeli here
In Radiocorriere (1.10.55), AMB described the work as 'carino e spiritoso'; 'it is not dodecaphonic, though Margola is [currently] writing a 12-tone sonata for me.' Michelangeli says he is also paying Rachmaninoff 's fourth concerto. 'I myself received the manuscript from Rachmaninov's widow in 1948 in New York. I had passed it on then, but only now for this occasion in Venice did I have the idea of presenting it to the public.' He mentions that he finds Mario Peragallo's (1910-1996) Piano Concerto very interesting (he had performed it a few years ago).
Benedetti Michelangeli acclaimed at La Fenice at the contemporary music festival.
To give everyone their due, as is right, it is right to acknowledge that Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli's presence crammed La Fenice with a crowd that doesn't usually happen with contemporary instrumental music. The desire to hear him again, after such a long hiatus, was even more poignant because of the widespread and unfounded rumour that he wouldn't be coming; and he was already here, ready for the concert in the Doge's Palace, enjoyed only by the History of Figurative Art conference attendees, and then for rehearsals with the theatre's orchestra, conducted by Maestro Franco Caracciolo. Which works would he perform? A legitimate curiosity, both given the precise chronological limits of the Festival and the varying moods at the announcement: "World Premiere." Some flock, some flee. On the other hand, it is well known that his repertoire has so far excluded works whose expression is not affectionate, and whose composition is in a certain sense, and against tradition, anti-pianistic.
One is entitled Kinderkonzert. Franco Margola, fifty-seven, declared: "Intending to write a piano work truly dedicated to the receptive possibilities of childhood, I had to abandon any insurrectionary ambitions and gather myself in absolute humility to find that expressive candour that would not have been permitted by my current musical language, which is atonal. Moreover, twelve-tone music, towards which I am orienting myself through a process of natural evolution, was even less suited to the interpretation of the world of children."
In fact, this Kinderkonzert is a scherzo, with simple motifs, brief developments, a tiny cadence, a touch of the archaic in some passages, a slight grazletta, in the manner of—what more can I say?—Gounod's Funeral March of a Marionette. The delicacies of a Benedetti Michelangeli have made the pleasant phrases more elegant, lively, serious, and sometimes ironic.
La Stampa 20.9.1955
Piano Concerto No. 4 in G minor, Op. 40 was completed by Sergei Rachmaninoff in 1926. The work exists in three versions. Following its unsuccessful premiere (1st version), the composer made cuts and other amendments before publishing it in 1928 (2nd version). With continued lack of success, he withdrew the work, eventually revising and republishing it in 1941 (3rd version, most generally performed today).
Pianists Vladimir Ashkenazy, Leslie Howard and Yevgeny Sudbin, and biographer Max Harrison have argued that, as with his Second Piano Sonata, Rachmaninoff got everything about the Fourth Concerto right the first time. The musicologist Geoffrey Norris, in contrast, argued that Rachmaninoff did not go far enough in his revisions.
In 2000 the Rachmaninoff Estate authorised Boosey & Hawkes, with the expert assistance of Robert Threlfall and Leslie Howard, to publish the uncut 1926 manuscript version of the Fourth Concerto. Ondine Records recorded the work with pianist Alexander Ghindin and the Helsinki Philharmonic under Vladimir Ashkenazy.
30 December 1955, Teatro Argentino, Rome: Mozart K450 and Schumann with Fernando Previtali; also Francesco Antonio Bonporti (1672-1749), Concerto for strings in F major.
1956
25 April, 1956 Rome, Teatro Argentina
Schumann Faschingsschwank aus Wien, for piano op. 26
Schumann Carnaval, for piano op. 9
Chopin Fantaisie in F minor for piano, op. 49
Chopin Three Mazurkas
Chopin Ballade No. 1 in G minor for piano, Op. 23
Debussy Images (2nd series), for piano
Debussy L'isle joyeuse, for piano
16 May, 1956, Bologna, Italy
Schumann, Faschingsschwank aus Wien op. 26; Carnaval op. 9; Chopin, Fantasia op. 49; 3 mazurche; Ballata op. 23; Debussy, Images, II serie; L’isle joyeuse.
21 June, 1956: Lugano, Switzerland
Mozart: Piano Concerto No.15 in B-flat major, K.450
Schumann: Piano Concerto in A minor, Op.54
– Hermann Scherchen / Orchestra Radio Svizzera Italiana
11 July 1956, Baroque Theatre, Ludwigsburg Castle, nicknamed the "Versailles of Swabia", Baden-Württemberg, Germany (a CD is available)
Mozart, Symphony No. 32 in G major KV 318; Piano Concerto in B-flat major KV 450;
Trauermusik, KV 477; Piano Concerto in D minor KV 466
Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, piano.
Symphony Orchestra of the South German Radio conducted by Antoine-Pierre de Bavier.
19 December 1956, Rome, Teatro Argentina
Orchestra of the National Academy of Santa Cecilia
conductor: Antonio Pedrotti, piano: Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli
Frescobaldi 4 pieces by Gerolamo Frescobaldi, transcription for orchestra: Toccata
Mozart Concerto No. 25 in C major for piano and orchestra K. 503
Rachmaninov Concerto No. 4 in G minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 40
1957
First tour of Czechoslovakia. He plays in Lebanon with Fernando Previtali. His father, Giuseppe Benedetti Michelangeli, dies.
In 1957 he made his debut in Prague and in 1964 in Moscow. Between the end of the Fifties and the early Sixties, he held concerts in Spain, Germany, Portugal, France, Austria and Switzerland. In 62 and in 66 he performed in the Vatican, first in the presence of Pope John XXIII, then of Pope Paul VI.
In 1965 he made his debut in Japan, where he was to return in 1973, 1974, 1980 and 1992. During 1965, on the initiative of maestro Agostino Orizio, the “Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli” International Piano Festival of Brescia and Bergamo was founded. An unofficial preview of the Festival had been given the previous year with a series of concerts to celebrate the Maestro’s twenty-fifth year of teaching.
His recording activities however dwindled considerably. With the exception of several important recordings in 1965 (published by Decca-BDM), throughout the Sixties he hardly ever set foot in recording studios. This circumstance contributed towards the circulation of numerous pirate editions of his records, against which he fought strenuously by taking legal actions which, however, came to nothing.
In England, he recorded Ravel's Concerto in G and Rachmaninoff's Concerto No. 4 for His Master's Voice, with the London Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Ettore Gracis. 7-8 & 10 March, 1957 in London (Abbey Road Studios - Studio No. 1).
Peter Andry, Inside the Recording Studio (2008), 41ff. gives an account of the recording process. 'Of all the great pianists whom I encountered, he was the most demanding and the most frustrating. It required nerves of steel on the part of Victor Olof and me to keep the show on the road. Nor were out anxieties eased by the presence of a conductor by the name of Ettore Gracis, who was brought along by Michelangeli but who was unknown to any of us.' The piano had been taken apart and 'Michelangeli himself stood by, a menacing figure, dressed all in black and sucking his teeth (...). We had brought own piano from Switzerland at vast expense. With the piano came his ubiquitous Japanese tuner...' He spiked the hammer felts furiously to achieve the brightness of sound for which Michelangeli was famous. 'The rehearsals gave s some worrying moments. He was in a bad mood, constantly pacing round and round. He soon found some of the orchestral detail not to his liking. But the recordings were made and, in the event, our fears proved groundless. Gracis made a decent accompaniment and the magic of Michelangeli's playing convinced everyone in the studio that day that here indeed was music-making of the highest order.'
Peter Andry may have misremembered the tuner on this occasion. Diana (Siberia) has noted the British press of 1957 reporting that "Michelangeli has brought the instrument from Hamburg at a transit cost of around £300. Michelangeli brings his own tuner with him -a dynamic little man with the head of a sage. His name is Tallone."
Daily News, 25 February 1957
'There is also a recording of a rehearsal before a concert on 4 March 1957 in London, where you can hear a conversation between Michelangeli and his tuner Cesare Tallone. I have not read Peter Andry's book, but I assume that this fragment of memories about preparation for the recording may refer to a different period, and not to 1957. Or we can use the phrase attributed to Her late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II - "Recollections may vary".
(With Benedetti this happens almost always).'
'When he decided to record an album of music by Rachmaninoff and Ravel, he retreated to my villa on the island of San Giulio, on Lake Orta, to study. For a whole month he played day and night, forgetting to eat, sleeping, losing weight, and never speaking to anyone. I felt like I was witnessing the miraculous transformation of a human being into music. It seemed as if the melodies were penetrating his veins, becoming blood, the lifeblood of his existence. It was an incredible and exhilarating experience.'
Cesare Augusto Tallone, Fede e lavoro, memorie di un accordatore, Milano 1971
'Benedetti Michelangeli had the great merit of being the first to revive a work [Rachmaninoff 4] that no famous pianist had ever included in the repertoire and which, ten years after the composer's death, had been completely forgotten. Unfortunately, he did not perform Concerto No. 4 frequently and did not keep it in his repertoire for long.' (Piero Rattalino)
March 1957: BBC Studios, London, England (radio broadcast )
Schumann: Carnaval (Scènes Mignonnes sur Quatre Notes), Op.9
Schumann: Faschingsschwank aus Wien (Fantasiebilder), Op.26
Issued on Deutsche Grammophon 469 820-2. First broadcast on 11 May, 1957.
Royal Festival Hall (March, 1957)
A Testament CD of his 1957 Royal Festival Hall recital captures him in brilliant, charismatic performances of Schumann, Chopin, Debussy and Mompou. 'As he got older, Michelangeli reduced his repertoire, and this recital was of familiar works that he often played. Selections from Debussy’s Images are more sharply defined than in the [later] studio recording, and they certainly contain more of a sense of inspiration. In fact, Michelangeli was at the height of his powers for this concert and it is one of the best representations of him on disc as well as some of the most astonishing piano playing recorded live before an audience.' (Jonathan Summers)
4 March, 1957: Royal Festival Hall, London, England
Schumann: Faschingsschwank aus Wien (Fantasiebilder), Op.26
Schumann: Carnaval (Scènes Mignonnes sur Quatre Notes), Op.9
Debussy: Images (Book II)
2. Et la lune descend sur le temple qui fut
1. Cloches à travers les feuilles
Debussy: Images (Book I)
2. Hommage à Rameau
1. Reflets dans l’eau
Chopin: Fantasy in F minor, Op.49
Chopin: Ballade No.1 in G minor, Op.23
Encores: Mompou: Canción from Canción y Danza No.6; Chopin: Waltz in E-flat major, Op.posth (B.46)
'Readers who are familiar with Michelangeli's 1971 DG recording of Debussy's Images will be astonished at this highly mobile 1957 concert performance of 'Cloches à travers les feuilles', which is almost a full minute faster than its stereo successor; or 'Reflets dans l'eau', which glides across the water's surface with such swiftness and ease that the more considered DG alternative – glorious though it is – sounds studied by comparison. 'Hommage à Rameau' is shaped with the utmost finesse and 'Et la lune descend sur le temple qui fût' coloured by exquisitely graded nuances...
'This disc leaves you humbled by, and grateful for, some wonderful piano playing.
Michelangeli's art is both rare and elusive, his expressive vocabulary finely distilled and unlikely to impress those who listen only for technical mastery. So it's ironic that those who criticise Michelangeli for 'coldness' or 'aloofness' are often the very commentators who are so dazzled by his virtuosity that they can't hear beyond it.' Gramophone Guide
Czech researcher Katia Vendrame write: 'The city where Michelangeli received perhaps the worst criticism of his career was London, where Michelangeli arrived in 1957 with the Schumann repertoire. The recital at the Festival Hall had in the first part of the concert program Faschingschwank aus Wien and Carnaval by Robert Schumann, where, according to the critic for The Musical Times Joan Chissell "like many other virtuosi, he was
sometimes guilty of playing too quickly". Michelangeli's rapid interpretation of the Carnaval parts "Eusebius" and "Chopin" is compared to "a busy businessman rushing for the 8.15". But the commentary continues in a lighter vein: "It would be difficult to imagine a more splendidly imposing and spacious account of the opening of Carnaval, or a more scintillating and subtle […] reading of "Reconnaissance". His Ballade in G minor, which was one of his most popular interpretations in Italy, was not a success: “the G minor Ballade sounded too improvisatory because of Mr. Michelangeli’s capricious and wayward approach.” The ballade is played very loosely, beginning and ending in an unusually fast tempo with a sharper tone, which becomes dolce only when the theme is heard. In this interpretation, Michelangeli changes the tone and tempo according to the structure of the musical notation in a given measure, and thus loses unity: the whole piece seems to be interpreted in an improvised spirit.
The programme ended with pieces from Claude Debussy's Images, which according to Chissell were "the high spot of the evening. Not for a very long time will it be possible to forget the limpid texture and exquisite beauty and variety of tone which this pianist produced in these pieces."
The pianist presented the same programme in January of the previous year in Milan, whereon the contrary, Italian critics received his interpretations with extraordinary enthusiasm ("we never tire of applauding this great master of the keyboard", "excellent compositions", etc.).
At the end of February 1957, his relationship with English critics improved. Due to a slight tear of the tendon in his right hand, he did not arrive for the BBC recital at the Royal Festival Hall. (Corriere della Sera, 28. 2. 1957) However, he arrived in London to perform Rachmaninov's Concerto No. 4. Joan Chissell describes his interpretation as follows: "This is
not the familiar ardently romantic Rachmaninoff; there is bravura in plenty in the work, but the the composer seemed more bent on exploring new paths than on making his familiar frontal attack on the emotions in it. [...] Nevertheless, the work did not really give him the chance to warm up and show the best of himself as a musician. Of his phenomenal virtuosity, however, there was never doubt at all. He has tremendous strength in fingers and wrists (even if his fortissimo is a little steely in quality) and has both under superfine control. There was also very much to admire in his lyrical, soft tone and his phrasing in the slow movement.” Malcolm Sargent conducted the Philharmonia Orchestra."
Katia Vendrame
26 April, 1957, Teatro Petrarca, Arezzo
Orchestra of the National Academy of Santa Cecilia
conductor: Fernando Previtali, piano: Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli
Beethoven Leonore III, Overture in C major op. 72a
Beethoven Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 73, "Emperor"
Beethoven Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, Op. 55 "Eroica"
He is now 37 years old. He is lively and has a nervous disposition. But he is relentless with himself when studying. He studies mainly at night, so as not to be disturbed by street noise.
[Te mu 37 let. Vervní a nerv ozní. přes to ale pedanticky neúprosný k sobě. Studuje hlavně v noci, aby nebyl rušen pouličním halasem.]
Svět v Obrazech, červenec-prosinec 1957 (XIII/27-52) = Czechoslovakian paper, The World in Pictures, July-December 1957 (XIII/27-52)
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].
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