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Who or what inspired you to take up the piano, and make it your career?

I encountered many pianists of note during my childhood in the Vienna of the early 1920s. Alfred Cortot used to play at my mother’s salons (she was a beautician), and my first memory is of being dandled on the left knee of Wilhelm Backhaus while he played the Hammerklavier. His party piece was to play the whole sonata with an infant on each knee. My elder sister sat on his right knee and kept falling off due to the violence of his sustain pedal technique. She broke a finger near the beginning of the Scherzo and he had to stop. Given such an upbringing it was inevitable that I would become a pianist.

Heinrich Lachenmann, front, with his parents, sister and other Lachenmann relations, Vienna, 1920

Who or what were the most important influences on your playing?

I could cite any number of musicians, but in all humility I believe the greatest influences on my playing have been myself and God.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

In my 30s and 40s I spent much time attempting to spread the seeds of Western classical music among non-Western cultures. The greatest challenge I set myself was to introduce the piano to Mongolia. It didn’t take, but what can you do?

Which recordings are you most proud of?

To my recollection I haven’t recorded anything since my youth. I’m with Celibidache on that one. I did record some Chopin and Brahms in student days, and had believed them lost until they resurfaced on the Concert Artist label some years ago. I was pleasantly surprised, and thought them worthy of comparison with Rubinstein. Some people suggested they actually were Rubinstein, which I thought rather ungracious.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in?

The Wiener Musikverein, the Wigmore Hall and the much lamented Haçienda in Manchester all rank highly, but you will agree that the greatest performances occur in one’s own mind.

Favourite pieces to perform? Listen to?

The pieces that give me most joy tend to be those that were written for or inspired by me. I can never hear John Cage’s Sonatas and Interludes without feeling a pang of nostalgia for the short period I spent in California in the late 1930s as a piano tuner and repair man. Called out to Cage’s house, I was received by his wife, and immediately set to work tuning his baby grand. Suddenly I felt the man’s presence behind me (he had approached in absolute silence) and jumped up with a start, a shower of nuts and bolts flying out of my top pocket on to the strings of the piano, making a noise both percussive and melodic. He put his hand to his face, and his eyes seemed to say, ‘I wonder…’ It wasn’t until after my return to Europe that I learned of his ‘invention’ of the prepared piano. Initially I felt hurt not to be given the credit I deserved, but now I consider the corpus of work he left to be the greatest personal tribute imaginable.

Who are your favourite musicians?

Glenn Gould was a remarkable man. Like no other pianist his playing made me want to sing out with joy – quite literally! I had the privilege of sitting in on the sessions at the Columbia Records studios when he recorded the Goldberg Variations in 1955. Some people say they can hear me humming along in the background.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

I once gave a recital to a cannibalistic tribe of Melanesia, near the Bismarck Sea. All was going well until the encore. I foolishly elected to play Liszt’s transcription of the Liebestod, and the German music roused anti-colonial emotion in their breasts. I succeeded in escaping, but I believe they ate the piano. I certainly never saw it again.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

Be constantly aware of the world around you. It can teach you so much. As a boy I went to hear Messiaen play at the Sainte-Trinité. He was still a young man at this time. As he and I departed the church and were assailed by the bright Sunday morning I exclaimed, ‘Listen to that!’ ‘What?’ he asked. His ears, as yet, were untrained. ‘The birds! Listen to the birds, Ollie!’ (I always called him that.) His face assumed a distant expression and I regret that we lost contact after that. He was catching birds on a higher plane. Another piece of advice: never work with other musicians. It creates problems.

What are you working on at the moment?

Now that I am approaching my centenary I rarely play the piano. Perhaps a Bach prelude before breakfast, or one of the Ligeti etudes. But it gives me an inexpressible pleasure to listen to the great pianists of today – Perahia, Pollini, Sokolov, Clayderman – because it is fun for me to identify the ways in which their playing borrows from mine. A friend sent me Steven Osborne’s recording of Pictures at an Exhibition recently. I cannot imagine this Osborne has never heard me play.

Where would you like to be in 10 years’ time?

Well, I do not expect to be here! But I entertain the thought that my pianism will be remembered when I am no longer alive. When he turned 100 Elliott Carter told me that it was the new 50. I look forward to reaching that milestone and receiving my telegram from the Queen, and as a naturalised British citizen I am of course eligible for honours from Her Majesty, which will all be gratefully accepted.

http://tinyurl.com/lachenmann

Heinrich Lachenmann appears by gracious permission of Gareth Burgess

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PeteCHow long have you been playing the piano?

Started with lessons at school 60-odd years ago, but never did any exams or grades; Kept it up, informally and somewhat chaotically, until after retirement; (I’ve usually had a piano in the house); started lessons again 3 years ago.

What kind of repertoire do you enjoy playing, and listening to?

Mostly romantic standards: learned a few Chopin pieces recently, earlier did some Granados Spanish Dances. Also, Ravel, but I find most of it too hard, Debussy: a bit easier!

How do you make the time to practise? Do you enjoy practising? 

I’m retired, so I practise an hour or so most days when at home. Yes, I enjoy it or I wouldn’t be doing it.

Have you participated in any masterclasses/piano courses/festivals? What have you gained from this experience? 

Masterclasses at Broughton in Furness with Anthony Hewitt, Martin Roscoe and others. I feel I get more from the fact of performing in front of people than from what I learn at the class

If you are taking piano lessons what do you find a) most enjoyable and b) most challenging about your lessons? 

Making discernable progress: e.g. attempted a piece 2 years ago (Ravel: ‘Menuet’ from Tombeau de Couperin) and gave up as it seemed beyond my abilities. Took it up again a month or two ago and realised that it was now quite feasible. I feel I am hampered by having done little work on scales, arpeggios etc – there is no infrastructure to my playing!

Has taking piano lessons as an adult enhanced any other areas of your life? 

Socially, we have a Piano Circle, hosted by my piano teacher. We meet once a month and play our pieces to each other. Most of the other members are more advanced than me, but we all encourage each other and I get some compliments about my playing, which is good for my confidence. I find that the challenge of playing to others means that I have to get a piece up to a presentable standard rather than giving up when the going gets tough. (For example I have played the first two pages of Debussy’s Clair de Lune for years but always gave up when the arpeggios begin). I’m planning to learn it properly when I’ve done my present piece.

In addition, we go to local concerts, for which I might not be motivated without social pressure.

Do you perform? What do you enjoy/dislike about performing?

I play at Piano Circle and at masterclasses. I’m a nervous performer, and tend to play much worse than I do at home in private. I wish I could stop making careless mistakes!

What advice would you give to other adults who are considering taking up the piano or resuming lessons? 

Go for it!

If you could play one piece, what would it be? 

I’ve been trying to learn the Chopin’s Prelude no 17 in A flat. It’s a wonderful piece with those amazing chromatic episodes: trouble is, it’s just a bit too hard for me at present! I gave it a trial outing at Piano Circle a few months ago and made a bit of a mess of it, but doubtless it will come! As we’re thinking about Alan Rusbridger and ‘Play It Again’, perhaps it is my G minor Ballade! 

Peter Cockshott lives in the Lake District. He studied physics at University and went on to a career in industry, working in physics and electronics, retiring from this some 10 years ago. From an early age he has spent his spare time climbing or running in the hills, but now has to fit in piano practice as well.

 

He has piano lessons with Rosemary Hamblett in Ulverston.

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….Perhaps not as evocative as The Piano Shop on the Left Bank, the title of a beautifully written book by T E Carhart, but no less intriguing than the premises described in Carhart’s memoir.

Before me were arrayed forty, perhaps fifty pianos of every make and model, and in various stages of dismantling. On my left, legless grand pianos……lay in a row on their flat side, the undulating curves of their cabinets a series of receding waves. Uprights clustered on the other side of the workshop, pushed up against one another as one would store two dozen chests of drawers in a spacious attic.

Around the edges of the room, behind and around and even under the pianos, in every available corner, lay scattered parts and pieces that had been removed from them.

This piano shop – or rather workshop – is the haunt of my tuner and technician, Rolf Dragstra, who, along with his colleague Klaus, restore and sell pianos of all shapes and sizes. Like the piano shop of the book, the space is crammed with pianos, and piano bits and pieces – a set of ornate Steinway legs, piano candelabra, cloth bags containing felts, rollers, pins and hammers, a model of the action of a modern Yamaha grand, a display of the tools of the tuner’s trade. There are baby uprights ranged around the walls, the sort of pianos I remember from school, and tall, dark drawing room uprights from another era, some with attractive decoration and embellishments. Five grand pianos fill the middle space, including a rather magnificent Blüthner, whose gleaming case is decorated with walnut marquetry panels.

Rolf’s “piano heritage” is solid: his grandparents in Germany owned a music shop, and his father trained at the Blüthner factory. His brother, who still lives in Germany, is also a piano technician and restorer. Formerly head of tuning and technical services at Chappell of Bond Street, Rolf is now working freelance and keeping busy with private and corporate clients. He is always full of interesting stories and anecdotes, and when he came to tune my piano a couple of weeks ago, he showed me some photos on his phone of a rather special Bosendorfer, which was autographed by luminaries of international piano and music, including Leonard Bernstein, Sir Georg Solti, Andras Schiff, and an indecipherable signature which could have belonged to Friedrich Gulda. Recently, Rolf has been looking after the Steinway at St Lawrence Jewry, which used to belong to Sir Thomas Beecham.

I visited Rolf’s workshop ostensibly to try a rather special grand piano. It was being played by another pianist when I arrived (Tessa Uys), but she quickly relinquished it to me and moved onto a little upright next door. We played the slow movement of Bach’s Concerto in D minor after Marcello, laughing as we listened to each other’s interpretation of the ornaments. I think we would have happily played around like this all afternoon, but Tessa had to go home. The workshop is a treasure trove of pianos and piano ephemera, and definitely worth a visit if you are looking for something in particular.

As well as tuning and restoration work, Rolf and Klaus have a concert instrument which they hire out, and they also offering a piano moving service.

For further information, please visit London Pianos or contact Rolf Dragstra on 07712 580078

Le Mer de Pianos, a short film about the oldest piano shop in Paris:

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Richard Black

Who or what inspired you to take up your chosen instrument and make it your career?

I can’t remember what inspired me to take up playing the piano. I remember asking my mother for a piano for my 7th birthday. She bought me one, then made sure I learned it.

As for the career, I pretty much stumbled into it. I studied physics for my degree and worked for 8 years in industrial electronics, but never gave up practising the piano and was doing various accompanying work (initially unpaid, of course) from student days. Eventually I found I had enough to live on, though to this day I have one or two other strings to my bow, which I keep up as much for sentimental reasons as financial ones. Making recordings is one which has a frequent practical use, with singers and instrumentalists being often asked to submit recordings as a preliminary for competitions or auditions.

Who or what are the most important influences on your playing?

I was lucky to have an excellent teacher, Bernard King, when I was in my teens, and also lucky to be at a school with a very good music department. Fellow-pupils gave me good advice which I forget in the specifics but remember receiving. One school-friend founded a record label and through him I met Ronald Stevenson, who has been a good friend for nearly 30 years: I’ve played a lot of his music, solo vocal and chamber. His playing was uniquely beautiful and passionate and his verbal advice no less inspiring. The latter is still true, though sadly his health prevents him performing these days. I met John Ogdon through the same record label and watching him play (I turned pages for him on many occasions) was an object lesson in achieving the (apparently) impossible.

I’ve also learned a lot from singers I’ve worked with, both seasoned professionals and those of my own generation. Sir Donald Macintyre has made me think a lot about effective sound production

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

Pianistically, the greatest challenge has been learning and performing Ronald Stevenson’s ‘Passacaglia on DSCH’. I hardly ever play solo anyway, and that’s a fair-sized challenge for anyone, so it was some way out of my comfort zone. Immensely rewarding, though. I promised Ronald back in the early 1980s I would do it, and hate to break a promise.

As an accompanist, I’ve played plenty of music that takes a bit of learning. One of the most interesting challenges was getting to grips with the songs of Bernard van Dieren. It took me several months to get a proper feeling for them, though I could sense from the first that there was real beauty there. I haven’t performed any in a while, and miss them. Alan Bush’s song cycle ‘Voices of the Prophets’ was a headscratcher – I reckon it includes the most difficult, second most difficult and third most difficult song accompaniments I know of.

Accompanying auditions is always a challenge. The singer (or instrumentalist) relies on you, and the accompanist can basically make or break a career. It’s no stress at all when someone turns up with a bit of ‘Le Nozze di Figaro’ or ‘Carmen’, but sight-reading ‘Wozzeck’ or ‘Die Aegyptische Helene’ requires some concentration.

As an accompanist, you do sometimes get asked to do concerts at rather short notice, especially if you’ve a reputation as a reasonably handy sight-reader. That may be for no better reason than someone having forgotten to book anyone for the gig! But then there’s the situation where a soloist is flying in from another country and even if you have plenty of notice of the repertoire you may have very little time to rehearse together. One soon learns to work efficiently under such circumstances. Orchestral musicians of course are also all too familiar with the under-rehearsed scenario. When I got together with my two colleagues in the Pizzetti Trio, one of our main aims was to ensure we had adequate – plentiful! – rehearsal for every concert. It’s much more rewarding like that.

What are the particular challenges/excitements of working with an orchestra/ensemble?

I don’t do a huge amount of orchestral piano work, but the big difference from anything else a pianist does is that you don’t have the score, only an orchestral part, so you actually have to count – just like everyone else does all the time, of course. Once you’ve disciplined yourself to do that it’s not too tricky, though some of the piano parts are surprisingly awkward and of course you have to follow the conductor, usually from the back of the band.

In a chamber ensemble, by contrast, the pianist does have the score and so is, if not by any means the leader, at least the referee – you need to keep an eye on the other parts and make sure everyone is in the right place. And of course in any kind of ensemble work you have to listen to the whole sound, not just your own. This is why Wilhelm Fürtwängler said that if you can’t be an accompanist you will never be a musician. True! If you can’t accompany you’re obviously not listening properly. Fitting the sound of a piano seamlessly with voice(s), strings and/or winds is great fun.

Which recordings are you most proud of?

I’ve done very few recordings for commercial sale (though certainly over 200 demo and private recordings), and I think my first is probably my favourite: three song cycles by Ronald Stevenson (initially on CD, now on iTunes, CDBaby and all the rest). Moira Harris, Wills Morgan and me. I think we did the music justice, and we organised it all ourselves, which was a useful lesson in musical practicalities. I did the technical stuff and editing too.

Do you have a favourite concert venue?

The Wigmore Hall, as much for sentimental reasons as any others. I’ve played there a couple of times and it’s a lovely feeling, but I’ve been in the audience countless times, often listening to friends performing, and it’s great. I’m not sure it’s the ultimate acoustic for piano, but it’s as good as it gets for string quartet, which is a favourite genre of mine, and voices bloom in there too.

Who are your favourite musicians?

I’ve already mentioned Ronald Stevenson and John Ogdon, and among pianists I could also mention Marc-André Hamelin, Marta Argerich, Benno Moiseiwitsch, Art Tatum, Percy Grainger… and lots more, of course. A rather random handful of other kinds of musicians might include Igor Markevitch, John Barbirolli, Furtwängler, Maxim Vengerov, Wissam Boustany, Alexander Ivashkin, Elizabeth Connell, Hans Hotter, Pavarotti and Dame Anne Evans.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

Hearing John Ogdon play Busoni’s ‘Fantasia Contrappuntistica’ at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in the late 1980s. He was in a bad mood and played with the kind of intensity you just don’t forget. The opening of the Coda Stretta, where there’s a fortissimo bass ostinato, was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard from a piano, by a long way.

What is your favourite music to play? To listen to?

For me, few things can match the pleasure of playing Brahms’s and Beethoven’s chamber music – trios and quartets and the sonatas for various instruments. I also love playing Wagner’s operas in rehearsals: some of the piano reductions are very ingenious transcriptions, done in many cases by Liszt pupils.

I couldn’t possibly single out one composer or genre as a favourite to listen to, but string quartets by anyone rank highly, alongside symphonies by all the usual suspects and a few more besides, Martinu for instance. Anything at all by van Dieren and Ildebrando Pizzetti, two of my favourites among less-well-known composers. Stevenson, Shostakovich, Alkan…

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians/students?

My work as a repetiteur is often very much about detail, and I do think that developing an eye and an ear for detail is crucial. But what I find myself missing most often in contemporary performances, by comparison with recordings from 50 or more years ago, is the sense that the music really means something to the performer. There’s no point at all in going after ‘individualism’ as an effect – that’s just a party trick. If you can work out for yourself what a piece means (which of course need not be verbal in the slightest), and transmit that through attention to the details, you’ll be individual all right.

What are you working on at the moment?

Untypically, a work for two pianos, ‘The Fortress of Illusion’ by Michael Maxwell Steer. It’s a marvellous piece in three movements which we’re playing at the Chetham’s Summer School in a few days from now. After that I’ve got a singer to accompany at the Leicester Square Theatre in a show based on Noel Coward, repetiteuring and coaching on operas of all kinds, accompanying auditions here there and everywhere and a handful of exams. This is why I enjoy my work: it’s practically never the same two days running.

What do you enjoy doing most?

Solving problems.

Richard Black is a highly versatile pianist whose work takes in opera, the symphony orchestra, chamber music and song recitals. He has worked for opera companies great and small in the UK, on operas ranging from half-forgotten gems of the late baroque (Opera Italiana) to the largest works of Wagner (Scottish Opera, Longborough Festival Opera) to new pieces composed in the 21st century (Royal Opera House, Tête à Tête Opera). His ability to play almost anything at sight and his wide knowledge of the opera repertoire have made him a familiar face at opera auditions, and he employs similar talents in accompanying students of every voice and instrument at Goldsmiths College.

As a recital accompanist, Richard has played for singers at Wigmore Hall and St John’s Smith Square, as well as in New York, Paris and Luxembourg. He has accompanied a wide range of instrumental works and played in a variety of chamber ensembles: he recently gave what was almost certainly the first UK performance in some decades of the piano trio by Pizzetti. He has for over 20 years had a strong interest in music by the Scottish composer and pianist Ronald Stevenson, and has performed and recorded many songs by Stevenson as well as playing several of his chamber and solo piano works, including the large-scale Passacaglia on DSCH. Other recordings include songs by Alan Bush and Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, and he has broadcast several times on BBC Radio 3.

Apart from playing the piano, Richard is an experienced recording engineer, producer and editor and a consultant on audio technology.