A tribute from pianist François-Frédéric Guy

« ON VOULAIT ÊTRE POLLINI ». Hommage

Oui. On voulait être Pollini.

Non par je ne sais quelle prétention ou folie, mais plutôt par nécessité.

Quand on écoutait l’un de ses très nombreux enregistrements, quand on sortait de l’un de ses concerts.

Lorsqu’adolescent, on se préparait à une vie de musicien et que l’on écoutait Pollini jouer, une force, une énergie vitale prométhéenne – beethovenienne – s’emparait de chacun d’entre nous. Passée la sidération, voire l’incrédulité devant ce qu’il venait d’accomplir sur scène, c’est un sentiment volontariste qui s’emparait de nous. Pour ma part j’allais immédiatement travailler, lire de la musique, éberlué par les programmes que Pollini proposait au «grand public».

Quand on écoutait Gilels ou Richter on était renversé, quand on écoutait Radu (Lupu) on pleurait à chaudes larmes devant sa poésie désarmante et Brendel, avant qu’il ne renonce à se produire en public nous livrait les secrets de la beauté pure des classiques viennois comme on solutionne un rébus mystérieux.

Mais quand Pollini venait de jouer… on voulait être Pollini … Quand je l’entendis jouer la Hammerklavier je voulais immédiatement la travailler. Peu importait qu’elle fut inaccessible … j’ai fini par en faire 3 enregistrements et la jouer plus d’une centaine de fois … On voulait être Pollini!!!

Un soir à Pleyel en 1981 c’est le premier concerto de Bartok avec Baremboim à la baguette. « J’oblige »mes parents à braver les embouteillages de l’autoroute A13 et m’y emmener alors que mon père n’écoutait que du Chopin et du Rachmaninoff !! J’avais 11 ans…

Quelque temps plus tard, j’achète mon premier CD: Pollini justement dans les deux premiers concertos de Bartok avec son complice de toujours Claudio Abbado. Dès lors je n’eus de cesse que de jouer ces concertos et c’est ce qui arriva bien plus tard!

C’était cela la magie « Pollini » : il donnait envie de se surpasser; d’aller au-delà de ses capacités réelles, au-delà du répertoire conventionnel! Car ses programmes étaient, pour notre génération, une source d’inspiration EN SOI.

En 2004 je suis invité à jouer avec l’Orchestre de Paris au festival Musica de Strasbourg sous la direction d’Alexander Briger. Il s’agit du mal-aimé concerto de Schoenberg – mais que moi j’adore depuis que j’ai entendu le disque de Pollini – et que je cherche une occasion de jouer. Vient la question du complément car le concerto est court (et foudroyant!)je suggère la grande pièce de Luigi Nono «Come Una ola do fuerza y luz» avec piano principal. Frank Madlener le directeur artistique du festival me dit que Pollini a joué l’œuvre à Paris sous la direction d’Abbado en 1975 avec le concerto de Schoenberg !!!! Je voulais être Pollini, encore une fois!

Quand il interpréta le 25 janvier 2009 à la Salle Pleyel la deuxième sonate de Boulez, comme s’il s’agissait d’une ultime sonate de Beethoven récemment retrouvée dans une bibliothèque d’une obscure université, après la tempête et l’Appassionata, le public pourtant réputé conservateur à l’époque, salle Pleyel – et qui quittait souvent la salle après l’entracte si quelques dissonances apparaissaient dans les œuvres proposées, est resté silencieux quelques secondes – une éternité! – après que le Géant ait joué par cœur sans la moitié d’un quart de huitième d’erreur ce monument INATTEIGNABLE pour la plupart d’entre nous. Puis ce fut l’explosion jubilatoire, incontrôlable, libératrice des applaudissements avec douze rappels à la clé pour Boulez le compositeur-présent ce soir-là- et son interprète venu d’un autre monde. Les mots pour qualifier ce à quoi on venait d’assister oscillaient entre « que c’est beau » tout simplement, à « comment est-ce possible », « cela dépasse tout ce qu’on peut imaginer » et qu’on ne se méprenne pas: ce n’était pas juste la « performance ». Et ce n’était pas la « beauté » de la musique comme on l’entend habituellement – d’ailleurs ce chef d’œuvre organise presque le CHAOS de la beauté Traditionnelle et la PULVÉRISE. NON, ce qui était beau c’était POLLINI qui domptait le chaos, qui surpasse l’humain : Sur(passe)humain. Le sentiment d’assister à quelque chose qui nous dépasse, du domaine de la transcendance.

On me demandait il y a quelques heures quel disque de Pollini était le plus cher à mon cœur. Ce choix est tout simplement impossible pour moi (ce qui est rarissime !). Chacun de ses disques est immédiatement devenu une référence quel que soit le répertoire abordé! Je ne connais pas de disque de Pollini que je rejetterais.

Et c’est là qu’on réalise l’envergure de ce Seigneur. Son ambitus de répertoire laisse pantois, tout simplement. Comment choisir entre ses préludes de Chopin, la sonate en fa dièse de Schumann- qui n’a pas en tête l’entrée hautaine de l’introduction du premier mouvement, , subtilement, provoquant un choc émotionnel originel qui ne nous quittera pas de toute la sonate – ou alors la fantaisie de Schumann ou celle de Chopin(!), les sonates de Beethoven : les dernières? La Waldstein qu’il jouait comme personne à en donner le tournis? Les concertos? l’Empereur où il régnait en maître ? Ou bien les premiers avec Jochum, pétillant comme du Prosecco ? les Brahms ? Mais alors le 1er avec Karl Böhm (pas de second car Böhm décède), ou alors ceux avec Abbado? En live ou en studio? Petrouchka, la septième de Prokofiev ? Les œuvre solo des trois viennois? Ou le concerto du plus célèbre d’entre eux, Schoenberg ? Le 488 de Mozart avec Böhm encore?

À chaque parution que nous guettions (combien de discussions avec Nicholas Angelich!), c’était l’excitation maximale ! « Alors, les dernières sonates de Schubert? Sa Wanderer était tellement olympienne »….. ah oui, il jouait Schubert…aussi … et la sonate de Liszt ! Je viens d’écouter une Totentanz en concert. Je ne me souvenais pas qu’il ait jamais joué cette œuvre ! Époustouflant ! Et les polonaises de Chopin tout comme la première ballade qu’il jouait si souvent en Bis ! Et les études ! Au cinquième bis après la ballade, l’opus 90 entière et le premier opus 11 de Schoenberg, on attendait tous l’étude opus 25/11 de Chopin pour clôturer un nouvel événement musical qui allait nous tenir éveillés des jours entiers comme dopés à l’énergie Pollinienne!

Et, quelquefois, le Sur-homme, Übermensch, était tendu presque crispé devant le clavier, comme conscient de l’énormité de la tâche à accomplir, mais une conscience de sur- homme! Il plaçait tellement haut la barre de son exigence et celle de la musique qu’il interprétait, qu’il y avait curieusement des soirs difficiles où l’on s’accrochait à notre siège espérant qu’il « tienne le coup » comme dans ce deuxième concerto de Chopin avec Barenboim et l’Orchestre de Paris il y a si longtemps… et que j’avais piraté avec un Walkman !!! C’était cette fragilité momentanée qui le rendait humain et qui parlait à notre for intérieur, pétri d’angoisses de toutes sortes, de doutes, de folles espérances, à la veille d’embrasser la carrière de musicien.

Pour toutes ces raisons et mille autres encore, pour son incarnation musicale, son insatiable soif de défis, de découvertes, d’avant-garde, on voulait être Pollini !

Adieu au Géant, adieu au Maître, adieu au Seigneur du clavier.

Translation:

Yes. We wanted to be Pollini.

Not because of I don’t know what pretense or folly, but rather because of necessity.

When we listened to one of his many recordings, when we left one of his concerts.
As teenagers, we were preparing for the life of a musician and listening to Pollini play, a strength, a Promethian – Beethovenian – vital energy seized from each of us. After the seduction, seeing the disbelief of what he had just accomplished on stage, it was a voluntary feeling that was overwhelming us.

For me, I immediately went to work, read music, amazed by the programmes Pollini proposed to the general public.

When we listened to Gilels or Richter we were knocked down, when we listened to Radu (Lupu) we cried hot tears in front of his disarming poetry and Brendel, before he gave up performing in public, delivered the secrets of the pure beauty of Viennese classics like solving a mysterious puzzle.

But when Pollini came to play… we wanted to be Pollini… When I heard him play the Hammerklavier I immediately wanted to work on it. Never mind that it was inaccessible… I ended up recording it three times and played it over a hundred times… We wanted to be Pollini!!!

One evening in the Salle Pleyel in 1981 – Bartok’s first concerto with Baremboim conducting. “Forcing” my parents to brave the A13 traffic and take me there when my dad only listened to Chopin and Rachmaninoff!! I was 11 years old…

Some time later, I buy my first CD: Pollini in the first two concertos of Bartok with his constant accomplice Claudio Abbado. From then on I never stopped playing these concertos, and that’s what happened much later!

This was the “Pollini” magic: he wanted to exceed himself; to go beyond his real abilities, beyond the conventional repertoire! Because his programmes were, for our generation, an inspiration IN ITSELF.

In 2004 I was invited to play with the Orchestre de Paris at the Musica de Strasbourg festival under the direction of Alexander Briger. It’s Schoenberg’s much-loved concerto – I’ve loved it since I heard Pollini’s CD – and I’m looking for a chance to play it. The question of the pieces to complement the programme comes up because the concerto is short (and lightning!). I suggest Luigi Nono’s great piece “Come Una ola do fuerza y luz” with principal piano. Frank Madlener, artistic director of the festival, tells me that Pollini played the work in Paris under Abbado’s direction in 1975 with the Schoenberg concerto!!!! I wanted to be Pollini, again!

When he performed Boulez’s second sonata on January 25, 2009 at the Salle Pleyel, as if it were a final sonata by Beethoven recently found in a library of an obscure university, after the storm and the Appassionata, the audience, although considered conservative at the time – and who often left after the intermission if some dissonance appeared in the works performed – remained silent for a few seconds – an eternity! – after the Giant had played the Boulez from memory without half a quarter of an eighth of an error, this monument UNATTAINABLE for most of us. Then there was the jubilant, uncontrollable, liberating explosion of applause with twelve encores for Boulez, the composer – present that evening – and his interpreter from another world. The words to describe what we had just witnessed oscillated between “how beautiful it is” quite simply, to “how is this possible?”, “this goes beyond anything we can imagine”, and, make no mistake, it wasn’t just the “performance”. And it was not the “beauty” of music, as we usually hear it – in fact this masterpiece almost organizes the CHAOS of traditional beauty and PULVERIZES it. NO, what was beautiful was POLLINI who tamed chaos, who surpasses the human, sur(passes)human. The feeling of witnessing something beyond us, in the realm of transcendence.

I was asked a few hours ago which Pollini album was dearest to my heart. This choice is simply impossible for me (which is rare!) ). Each one of his albums immediately became a reference no matter what the repertoire presented! I don’t know of a Pollini album I would turn down.

And that’s when we realize the magnitude of this Lord. His breadth of repertoire simply leaves you speechless. How to choose between Chopin’s preludes, Schumann’s sonata in f minor – which does not have in mind the haughty entry of the introduction to the first movement, subtly, provoking an original emotional shock which will not leave us throughout the entire sonata – or Schumann’s fantasy or Chopin’s, Beethoven late Sonatas? The Waldstein that he played like a dizzy person? The concertos? The ‘Emperor’, where he reigned as a master? Or the first ones with Jochum, sparkling like Prosecco? Brahms? But then the first one with Karl Böhm (no second because Böhm dies), or the ones with Abbado? Live or Studio? Petrouchka, Prokofiev’s seventh? Solo work of the three Viennese? Or the concerto of the most famous of them all, Schoenberg? Mozart’s K488 with Böhm again…

With each release (so many chats with Nicholas Angelich!), it was maximum excitement! “So, Schubert’s last sonatas?”. “His Wanderer was so Olympian”… Ah yes, Schubert again…. and the Liszt sonata! Just heard Totentanz live. I don’t remember him ever playing this piece! Breathtaking! And Chopin’s polonaises, just like the first Ballade he played so often in encore! And the etudes! At the fifth encore after the Ballade, the whole Opus 90 and Schoenberg’s first opus 11, we were all waiting for Chopin’s opus 25/11 study to close a new musical event that would keep us awake all day as if we were drugged with Pollinian energy!

And, sometimes, the Superman, Übermensch, was tense in front of the keyboard, as if aware of the enormity of the task to be accomplished, but with a consciousness of superman! He set the bar so high for himself and that of the music he played, that there were curiously difficult evenings when we clung to our seat hoping he would “hold on”, like in the second Chopin concerto with Barenboim and the Orchestre de Paris so long ago … and I pirated it with a Walkman!!! It was this momentary fragility that made him human, and spoke to our inner strength, filled with all kinds of anguish, doubts, crazy hopes, on the eve of embracing the career of a musician.

For all these reasons and a thousand more, for his musical incarnation, his insatiable thirst for challenges, discoveries, the avant-garde, we wanted to be Pollini!

Farewell to the Giant, farewell to the Master, farewell to the Lord of the keyboard.
Maurizio Pollini


This tribute first appeared on Facebook. Thank you to François-Frédéric for allowing me to reproduce it here

The Royal School of Church Music (RSCM) marks the centenary of Charles Villiers Stanford’s death with a series of special events

Charles Villiers Stanford, one of the great choral composers of the late 19th/early 20th century, died on 29 March 1924. As executors of the Stanford estate, the RSCM publishes a vast range of Stanford’s music, available from RSCM Music Direct. To mark the centenary of Stanford’s death, the RSCM is planning a number of special events.

STANFORD SINGING BREAK 12-14 July, Queens’ College, Cambridge

An exclusive singing weekend in Stanford’s honour, to be held 12–14 July at Queens’ College Cambridge, where he was organ scholar. This is a unique opportunity to sing some of Stanford’s best known (and lesser known) works in glorious Cambridge surroundings, including Trinity College Chapel (where Stanford was organist) and Great St Mary’s Church. This course will particularly focus on the wonderful inheritance of Anglican Choral music, with RSCM Director Hugh Morris as conductor. 

The RSCM holds a number of Stanford manuscripts, and there will be an exclusive session for members of the course to view them, along with an informative lecture on the life and works of the composer given by Stanford expert Jeremy Dibble (University of Durham) on the Saturday evening.  On the Friday evening there will be a special, illustrated organ recital featuring Stanford organ works, given by Anthony Gritten.

There will also be meals to share social time together, as well as time to explore the delights of Cambridge in summer. 

The course is suitable for experienced, adult (18+) choral singers working at or above RSCM Silver Award level or equivalent (which expects a reasonable level of music reading and independence as a singer); and places may be limited in some voice parts to ensure a balanced choir. Interactive learning resources will be available through the RSCM Choral Coach app, and a full set of music in a commemorative presentation folder will be available to all participants.

Full details/booking https://www.rscmshop.com/features/stanford-singing-break

Illustrated organ recital by Anthon Gritten, Queens’ College chapel, Friday 12 July, 7.30pm

This illustrated recital will span Stanford’s entire compositional life, from an early work of c.1875 through to his final works of the 1920s. At the centre of the recital is one of his large-scale masterpieces for organ, the Sonata no. 4 in C minor ‘Celtica’ op. 153, written at the end of the First World War. In addition to complete performances of these five pieces, the event will discuss aspects of Stanford’s compositional language, including his use of hymn tunes, the impact of his Irish heritage, the shape of his sonata thinking, and the influence of other composers on his music.

Book tickets

Lecture with Jeremy Dibble, Queens’ College, Saturday 13 July, 7.30pm

Charles Villiers Stanford is justifiably renowned for his brilliantly original church music, but he is perhaps less well known for the extraordinary range of other work he composed across his highly creative life. This lecture will explore some of that repertoire, including extracts from his operas, symphonies, choral works, songs and partsongs, to offer a fresh appreciation of his unrivalled composition for the Anglican liturgy. 

Book tickets

www.rscm.org.uk

“Every time you play a great piece of music there is a new discovery. Every time.”

Mitsuko Uchida, pianist

“I am interested in music as ecstasy, as something that transports you away from the everyday to another place.”
Terry Riley, composer

“Perhaps many a composer of the past would be astonished at how over-cautious we are when we play their works.”

Helmut Deutsch, pianist

“Be open to the possibility of your ears and soul being challenged, be curious about how that may be done, be hungry for new sounds, be thirsty for what you don’t know yet”

James MacMillan, composer and conductor

“The purpose of art is the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.”

Glenn Gould, pianist

“Schnabel said Mozart is the most inaccessible of the great masters because with the fewest number of notes, he accesses the deepest levels of human awareness and experience.”

Leon Fleischer, pianist

“As you grow up, communicate more with scores than with virtuosi”

Robert Schumann

“At every concert I leave a lot to the moment. I must have the unexpected, the unforeseen. I want to risk, to dare. I want to be surprised by what comes out. I want to enjoy it more than the audience. That way the music can bloom anew.”
Arthur Rubinstein, pianist

“If you play music with passion and love and honesty, then it will nourish your soul, heal your wounds and make your life worth living. Music is its own reward.”

Sting (Gordon Summer, pop musician)

“Keep searching for that sound in your head until it becomes a reality” – Bill Evans, jazz pianist

Lifting the Lid: Interviews with Concert Pianists – Michael Johnson & Frances Wilson (AKA The Cross-Eyed Pianist)

Pianists have an aura of mystique. More often than not, alone on the stage with just that box of wood and wires for company, stretched before the performer like a sleek black limousine, pianists seem more removed, almost other-worldly, than other classical musicians.

There is a great curiosity about what classical musicians do, not just life on the concert platform – the visible, public aspect of the profession – but ‘what musicians do all day’, as it were. A certain urban mythology surrounds the working life of the concert pianist; we may imagine pianists slaving away at their instrument for hours on end, cut off from family, a social life, or the normal activities of daily life. For how else could these people learn and finesse so many notes, so many details, in order to bring the music alive for us in performance and on countless recordings?

In reality, the life of the concert pianist today is rather different from the clichéd image of the wild-haired virtuoso, confined to their practice room or studio with only the instrument and its literature for company. A startling level of commitment and executive function is required to learn, memorise and perform complex music; added to that, the profession today is highly competitive, tough, often lonely – yet as these interviews reveal, the instrument and its repertoire exert a strong attraction, seducing would-be professionals from a young age and continuing to bewitch, delight, frustrate and excite.

The interviews in this book offer remarkable and often surprisingly honest insights into life as a professional pianist today – from years of intense study with some of the leading pianist-teachers and pedagogues of our time to practicing and performing, repertoire and recording. There are also more esoteric reflections on the nature of “success” as a musician, and advice for young musicians who are considering a professional career.

I must bore some people because I don’t move around when I play. Some people take this as emotional detachment but my contention is that one should come to concerts to listen, not to watch… Reproducing my gestures just wouldn’t work. (My plain) always looks effortless, like I’m just brushing the keys, but there is force at work, a lot of force.

Marc-André Hamelin

Some of the world’s greatest living concert pianists are included here – amongst them, Marc-André Hamelin, Angela Hewitt, Gabriela Montero, Stephen Hough, Joanna Macgregor, Rudolf Buchbinder, Francois-Frederic Guy and Tamara Stefanovich – but we have also included interviews with lesser-known pianists and younger artists too, who are beginning to make their mark on the international stage.

Think about what the role of a musician is today and how you can be at best useful for today’s society – for me certainly not playing only older repertoire, but thinking how to link music of all times to extraordinary creations of today. Challenge yourself by not copying someone else’s path …In short, less image, more substance

Tamara Stefanovich

The interviews have been selected from face-to-face interviews conducted by Michael Johnson before and after concerts and at music festivals, and from Frances Wilson’s popular Meet the Artist series, launched on this site in 2012 and now comprising a significant archive of over 500 interviews with musicians, composers and conductors active today.

If we are still going to persuade people to come and hear live music, we have to find ways to make that experience more meaningful and relevant, be it collaborating with other genres such as dance, the visual arts or theatre, working with living composers, or simply being able to talk to your audiences in an engaging manner.

Margaret Fingerhut

Following in the footsteps of titles such as Dean Elder’s Pianists at Play and David Dubal’s Reflections from the Keyboard, Lifting the Lid is an important survey of the thoughts and attitudes of today’s professional pianists and a significant resource for all those who are fascinated by the piano and those who play it.

Lifting the Lid is available in paperback from Amazon.com


Frances Wilson writes….. It was one of those serendipitous moments when journalist Michael Johnson contacted me in spring 2020 to suggest a collaboration project. Michael had contributed articles to this site, and I knew Michael’s writing for International Piano and Facts and Arts. It was his idea to pool our joint resources and collaborate on a book of interviews with concert pianists. I probably wouldn’t have agreed to the project had we not been in the grip of the first Covid-19 lockdown; I had very little work at the time, and desperately needed a focus and a distraction from the monotony of lockdown.

We had plenty of material, too much in fact, and so this book represents just a small selection of the many interviews we originally proposed for inclusion. While we have included some of the “big names” of classical piano, the interviews were chosen more for their interesting qualities rather than the reputation of the interviewee. I hope that readers will find these interviews insightful, giving a glimpse “beyond the notes” and the concert stage to the daily exigencies of “being a pianist”.

Frances Wilson, March 2024

“Few people ask musicians more pertinent or revealing questions than Frances Wilson…..and so the answers of her interviewees are always interesting.” – Sir Stephen Hough, concert pianist

“Frances Wilson’s Meet the Artist series is something I read every day to discover what musicians from around the world are doing and thinking. It is a fascinating behind-the-scenes glimpse into their challenges, influences and experiences via probing interviews. I highly recommend it.” – Beth Levin, concert pianist

“Not since David Dubal’s ‘Reflections from the Keyboard’ have I read a set of interviews in which music and the written word join hands so compellingly.” – Jack Kohl, concert pianist and author of ‘Bone Over Ivory: Essays from a Standing Pianist’

“Music critics have an ear. Plastic arts critics have an eye. Michael Johnson has both! This asset gives rhythm and colours to his interviews. He catches the personalities of the great pianists and reveals the little details that make them familiar to us.” – Séverine Garnier, editor of ‘Classique mais pas has been’, critic and music writer