More Pages to Turn....

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.