Issac Stern, Violinist
Issac Stern was at his peak when he played a recital in Township Auditorium in the 1980's. I was priviledged to not only turn his pages, but also to have a modest conversation with him backstage. He struck me as totally approachable, funny, and full of energy. I remember his signing my program for me, and when he asked my name, I said John Adams. He laughed and said, "Oh yea, well I'm Thomas Jefferson." I noticed his violin case in the dressing room, and on the inside of the lid was a virtual family album of photographs. The program included the Enescu Sonata for Violin and Piano, a nod towards his association with that great composer and violinist. The score was in manuscript, and the pianist warned me that there were several cuts. I had to look carefully to find small red dots, and when I saw one,turn the page and look for the next red dot. Now that would have been fine with a rehearsal, but having to do this without one, and in front of hundreds of people was nerve wracking. The pianist, whom I have forgotten....(I must look it up)..was very complimentary afterwards, and signed my program along with Stern. Issac Stern was born in 1920, so he would have been in his sixties when I met up with him. He was a class act to say the least.
Leontyne Price, Soprano
Leontyne Price sang at least three times in Columbia, and the final concert at Township Auditorium was in the mid 1980's. The most vivid memory I have is arriving early for the concert, and standing backstage waiting for Miss Price and David Garvey, her pianist, to arrive. Someone was rattling the sidedoor, and I went to let them in. A very short lady in boots and a fur hat, very Russian, came in, looking rather lost. I said "Can I help you" and Madame said, "Oh no, I know exactly where to go". Of course, I was expecting a tall, regal appearance, but in street clothes, overcoat and hat, she looked quite ordinary. I was stunned, to say the least, as she always struck me as very tall from the stage. Not the first time I have been fooled with that, as great artists have a way of making themselves appear larger than life. Or, perhaps, we do that unconsciously! She wanted to try the stage right away, so out we went, with a scattering of applause from the few souls already seated. She tried a few passages, turned and smiled, and that was it. She had a habit of touching the curtain when she walked out on stage...rather a flick of the wrist sort of thing...and I realized this was a good luck ritual for her. As I knew so many of the pieces from playing them myself, I was able to watch her a great deal. It would seem to me that she had the most relaxed vocal technique possible. She always sang "Pace, Pace, Mio Dio" from Verdi's "La Forza del Destino", and so I waited for that wonderful B Blat. It seemed to come out of space, perfectly formed, and the most beauriful sound imaginable. She was totally removed backstage, lost in thought, and unapproachable. She had a small table with all her encores spread out. After the first encore she suddenly said to me..."Pick one out!" I almost fainted. For the life of me, I can't remember what it was! Afterwards in the dressing room, she was so so lovely to me, and signed my program with a short greeting, and also a beautiful photograph of her. A Magical Evening.
A diversion...
Alicia De Larrocha, pianist
De Larrocha played twice in Columbia, and both times she practiced in my studio in the old music building, McMaster School. She was very small, but had powerful shoulders and hands. I remember going with Leon Harrelson to meet her at the airport, and she arrived carrying not one, but two music cases. Right then and there you knew you were in the presence of a world class artist, with dozens of concerts on her schedule. After her concert, I was invited to a small supper party, and she was very amusing. Learning I was soon to play with orchestra, she remarked'"I hope you have a good conductor...there are many bad ones!" The second visit was in the 1980's, and this time she noticed a picture of herself on my studio wall. When I went back stage after her concert, she handed me a new photograph of herself, saying "This one is much nicer!" She seemed in some ways the opposite of what one might expect in so great an artist. She was folksy, down to earth, and direct. I always found her playing to reflect those qualities, plus a seemless technique and exqusite polish. I heard her with the National Symphony some weeks later, over the air, playing the Schumann Concerto. In the last movement, during that famous syncopated rhythm, the conductor faltered. Not Alica..she remained steady as a rock and brought it all to a magnificent conclusion. A real professional and a wonderful person.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Some Pages I Have Turned....!
Beginning in my late teens in Kansas City, I had the opportunity to turn pages at concerts for some of the greatest musicians. I just sort of fell into this, but was given a big push forward by Ruth Seufert, who ran the biggest artist series in town. I started out as an usher in the Music Hall, learning all the different seating patterns in that large space. An emergency arose, and I made my page turning debut with vioinist Misha Elman at the last minute. What follows are some rememberances of some of these artists, some of whom I remember more for their artistry than for any personal contact. But a few had real charm, and they stand out for that reason.
Misha Elman, violinist.
Elman would have been in his 60's when I heard him, and I remember his beautiful manners and stage presence. He was born in Kiev in 1891, and was one of the most famous pupils of Leopold Auer, a celebrated master teacher. His playing was quite bold and full of romantic performance traits, many of which are out of style at this time. I wore my Phi Mu Alpha pin everywhere in those days, and I remember his telling me that he was also a proud member! The audience loved him, and they often heard him on the radio. He played the famous "Meditation" from "Thais" as an encore, and you can hear it on his page in Wikipedia.
Shirley Verrett, mezzo soprano
Miss Verrett ( at the time Verrett-Carter ) was the winner of the National Federation of Music Clubs Young Artist Award, and I turned pages for her during the finals in Kansas City. She was accompanied by a very young Charles Wadsworth, and of course I always reminded him of that in later years. I remember the ease of her technique, and the great showmanship....perhaps I should say Star Power, for she went on to a great career. By this time she had already had some important concerts, but she really took off in the early 1960's. She gave a meltingly liquid rendition of the "Habanera" from "Carmen" that I can still hear in my inner ear fifty years later. I had already heard Charles at Yale, when he played for Elaine Ritchie, who had just won the Naumberg Award, and gave an informal recital in the Yale Glee Club rehearsal room. Shirley Verrett died just a few weeks ago, followed by magnificent tributes far and wide.
Mack Harrell, baritone
While a student at Aspen Music School I turned pages for Mack Harrell, who was joined by my teacher, pianist Joanna Graudan ,for a performance of "Dicterliebe" by Schumann. I had been fascinated all that summer session with Mack Harrell and Phyliss Curtin, who were rehearsing for the New York City premiere of Carlyle Floyd's opera "Susannah". They had already done it at Florida State University, where Floyd was on the faculty. I had already heard Mack several times in Kansas City, where he joined Carl Friedberg and Conrad Bos for several summer masterclasses in the late 1040's, early 50's. He was slight of statue, and had been a violinist who suddenly discovered his singing voice while a student at Curtis. He was probably as great a recitalist as any singer I had heard. His sound was like bunished bronze, with a very sensuous overtone. His German diction was perfection. A great singer, and incidentally, the father of cellist Lynn Harrell....who was about 10 years old at the time I knew him. The funny bit was that Phyliss Curtin had started as a violinist also, so the two were well matched.
Birgit Nilsson, soprano
Again, a last minute emergency sent me to the aid of this magnificent artist, who gave a spellbinding performance in Austin, Texas in the early 1960's, while I was on the piano faculty there. Her pianist was Leo Taubman, and he met me backstage, where I could hear Birgit warming up in her dressing room. She sounded like she was right beside us, but there was a heavy door between. He insisted I meet her first, and then we could get down to business. She swept on stage, and plunged into
"Dich Teure Halle". I looked up and saw this vast amount of spray come out of her mouth, and several people in the front row moved back. (She was sucking on a cough drop before she went on stage, wrapped it in her handkerchief, and handed it to me!)
What I remember particularly was a set of songs by Sibelius, which she characterized to great degree. I also noticed how she had this incredible sense of phrasing..knowing just how to make the music flow in a most natural way. She was very free, but also very disciplined at the same time. She was brought to the concert by a young Swedish guy, who had covered his car with flowers for the ride (in a rather beat up old car). She was so giving, and the audience loved her. At the end she came around the piano, took my hand, and had me bow with her and Leo for the final turn. She gave me several photos, all of which disappeared during the move to South Carolina.
A digression....
The Stars of the Music World had a quite different progress in those days, almost always arriving by train. They usually showed up at least the day before their concerts, and sometimes stayed several days. I remember the endless photos in the newspaper, some of which could be quite inventive. Lily Pons, the reigning coloratura of her time, was photographed on the rail platform holding a lease with a leapord at the other end. How they managed that shot remains a mystery, but I imagined at least four men with guns and whips standing behind the photographer. She was barely five feet tall, and appeared much taller on stage, because of clever touches, such as a small crown on her head, and a long train sweeping behind her. She demanded a white canvas runner from the wings to the center of the stage, and made an entrace fit for a queen. Her recital always featured a flutist in tow, so she could do the cadenzas to the Mad Scene from "Lucia di Lammermoor" in more authenic fashion. She invariably sang pieces about larks, and the flute was a necessary addition here as well.
TO BE CONTINUED>
Misha Elman, violinist.
Elman would have been in his 60's when I heard him, and I remember his beautiful manners and stage presence. He was born in Kiev in 1891, and was one of the most famous pupils of Leopold Auer, a celebrated master teacher. His playing was quite bold and full of romantic performance traits, many of which are out of style at this time. I wore my Phi Mu Alpha pin everywhere in those days, and I remember his telling me that he was also a proud member! The audience loved him, and they often heard him on the radio. He played the famous "Meditation" from "Thais" as an encore, and you can hear it on his page in Wikipedia.
Shirley Verrett, mezzo soprano
Miss Verrett ( at the time Verrett-Carter ) was the winner of the National Federation of Music Clubs Young Artist Award, and I turned pages for her during the finals in Kansas City. She was accompanied by a very young Charles Wadsworth, and of course I always reminded him of that in later years. I remember the ease of her technique, and the great showmanship....perhaps I should say Star Power, for she went on to a great career. By this time she had already had some important concerts, but she really took off in the early 1960's. She gave a meltingly liquid rendition of the "Habanera" from "Carmen" that I can still hear in my inner ear fifty years later. I had already heard Charles at Yale, when he played for Elaine Ritchie, who had just won the Naumberg Award, and gave an informal recital in the Yale Glee Club rehearsal room. Shirley Verrett died just a few weeks ago, followed by magnificent tributes far and wide.
Mack Harrell, baritone
While a student at Aspen Music School I turned pages for Mack Harrell, who was joined by my teacher, pianist Joanna Graudan ,for a performance of "Dicterliebe" by Schumann. I had been fascinated all that summer session with Mack Harrell and Phyliss Curtin, who were rehearsing for the New York City premiere of Carlyle Floyd's opera "Susannah". They had already done it at Florida State University, where Floyd was on the faculty. I had already heard Mack several times in Kansas City, where he joined Carl Friedberg and Conrad Bos for several summer masterclasses in the late 1040's, early 50's. He was slight of statue, and had been a violinist who suddenly discovered his singing voice while a student at Curtis. He was probably as great a recitalist as any singer I had heard. His sound was like bunished bronze, with a very sensuous overtone. His German diction was perfection. A great singer, and incidentally, the father of cellist Lynn Harrell....who was about 10 years old at the time I knew him. The funny bit was that Phyliss Curtin had started as a violinist also, so the two were well matched.
Birgit Nilsson, soprano
Again, a last minute emergency sent me to the aid of this magnificent artist, who gave a spellbinding performance in Austin, Texas in the early 1960's, while I was on the piano faculty there. Her pianist was Leo Taubman, and he met me backstage, where I could hear Birgit warming up in her dressing room. She sounded like she was right beside us, but there was a heavy door between. He insisted I meet her first, and then we could get down to business. She swept on stage, and plunged into
"Dich Teure Halle". I looked up and saw this vast amount of spray come out of her mouth, and several people in the front row moved back. (She was sucking on a cough drop before she went on stage, wrapped it in her handkerchief, and handed it to me!)
What I remember particularly was a set of songs by Sibelius, which she characterized to great degree. I also noticed how she had this incredible sense of phrasing..knowing just how to make the music flow in a most natural way. She was very free, but also very disciplined at the same time. She was brought to the concert by a young Swedish guy, who had covered his car with flowers for the ride (in a rather beat up old car). She was so giving, and the audience loved her. At the end she came around the piano, took my hand, and had me bow with her and Leo for the final turn. She gave me several photos, all of which disappeared during the move to South Carolina.
A digression....
The Stars of the Music World had a quite different progress in those days, almost always arriving by train. They usually showed up at least the day before their concerts, and sometimes stayed several days. I remember the endless photos in the newspaper, some of which could be quite inventive. Lily Pons, the reigning coloratura of her time, was photographed on the rail platform holding a lease with a leapord at the other end. How they managed that shot remains a mystery, but I imagined at least four men with guns and whips standing behind the photographer. She was barely five feet tall, and appeared much taller on stage, because of clever touches, such as a small crown on her head, and a long train sweeping behind her. She demanded a white canvas runner from the wings to the center of the stage, and made an entrace fit for a queen. Her recital always featured a flutist in tow, so she could do the cadenzas to the Mad Scene from "Lucia di Lammermoor" in more authenic fashion. She invariably sang pieces about larks, and the flute was a necessary addition here as well.
TO BE CONTINUED>
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