History's Greatest Pianists II

Like Pachmann, Cortot was dismissed for much of the 20th century because he missed a couple of notes. The fact that he was one of the greatest musicians ever to touch a keyboard didn't seem to matter. My piano teacher whom I won't name but whose initials were Wha-Kyung Byun told me in a lesson, "In Korea, I listened to Cortot recordings, because that's all there was."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8E_0glY3nI&feature=related

Greatest Moments of Singing I

"May I have your ear?" from The Bartered Bride (Smetana). Nicolai Gedda & Giorgio Tozzi (1959)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqClLXQFLmk

The much-more interesting world of opera

Today, I posted the following on a popular organist listserv. I'm guessing the organist-types won't care so much for it. I thought you would enjoy it more!

My good friend Andrew Farkas sent me this today:

http://operachic.typepad.com/opera_chic/2009/11/gloves-off-angela-gheorghiu-blasts-alagna-he-wants-me-back-his-family-in-corriere-della-sera-intervi.html

It is entirely more interesting than anything going on in our little organist world. True, the musical and vocal level of singing has never been lower. But at least there's something INTERESTING to read about. Bigger-than-life personalities, like the Greek gods throwing lightning bolts at each other.

These folks aren't circus attractions who get 15 minutes of fame from their little trick. ("I can play 'Granada' with my ear lobes!") They do more than inspire curiosity. These are personages who dominate a stage, and what's more, they have a relationship with their audience. Their audience sees through the performer who says, "I want your attention and will stoop to absolutely anything to get it." These operatic titans are simply living their operatic lives, and they get attention because they are INTERESTING -- interesting people who are really living life -- not always cleanly, but living it they are.

Biggs and Fox were interesting. Menuhin was interesting, and he happened to be a prodigy. But just being a prodigy doesn't automatically make you interesting. (And what happens when you grow up? An old prodigy becomes like a retired baseball player, increasingly grateful for the people who still remember him. And if they're really unlucky, they live long enough that no one remembers them except some bespectacled librarian. "Oh, yes, I remember you! You pitched for the Manhattan Island Red Stockings in 1742.") Liberace was interesting, and he happened to wear sequins. But putting on sequins doesn't automatically make you interesting. There has to be something more.

Biggs and Fox had something more. Horowitz and Rubinstein had something more. And these operatic numina? Well, they don't sing so good, some of them. But boy, do they have that something more! I was on the edge of my seat reading about the Sicilian tenor and the Romanian soprano. And I immediately became sad that in my inbox today, there was nothing about organs that put me on the edge of my seat. In fact, it's not just today.

Organists as Musicians, Part II

Though it may seem like an artistic step backward, this notion of mass-producing pipe organs, I think the outcome would be the opposite.

In the 19th century, builders as diverse as E. & G. G. Hook and Cavaillé-Coll had catalogs that advertised "stock models." Model 1, Small Organ, X amount of stops, Y dollars. Model 2, Medium-Sized Organ, and so forth. And yet the quality was not lower than the organs of today but higher.

Why? There are many reasons, too numerous and complex to list here. However, a very significant reason is that they had the opportunity to build and rebuild and re-rebuild the same instrument. What if piano builders had to build a brand-new design for every single piano?! Think of how flawed these experimental pianos would be! Yet this is what pipe organ builders routinely do ... reinventing the wheel each time ... requiring formidable cost on the part of the consumer ... and the results are frankly variable.

If, instead, there were a stock-model organ, developed with the same type of trial and error that a Mason & Hamlin was developed, think of the instrument that would result! Movable organs, not tied to any church or building! Predictable tone colors that composers would know how to approach! Soon enough, there would be organ chamber ensembles, and composers providing repertoire for them! And did I mention that they would not be tied to the church?

If the highest quality tracker-action pipe organ costs $30,000-$40,000 per stop, it is inevitable that companies producing pipeless organs should be able to sway the public with instruments at a fraction of the cost. As the technology increases and these instruments sound "almost like pipe organs," the pipe organ companies are going to be in real doo-doo. As soon as someone figures out how to combine the Hauptwerk® set-up with those Bose® two-tower speakers, I doubt any church will buy a pipe organ. Why should they?

If, however, some pipe organ builder heeds my advice and starts building a 10-stop portable stock model organ, at a cost of say $100,000, and if fine composers started composing repertoire for it, I think this and only this would give the non-pipe companies a run for their money. If a concert hall can spend $100,000 on a 9-foot Steinway, they can just as easily do the same for this new type of pipe organ. It won't help for Saint-Saëns or Mahler, but it would be ideal for Bach, Handel, Haydn ... and all the wonderful chamber music and concertos yet to be written!

Organists as Musicians

A fascinating thread -- that is, a so-so thread that evoked a fascinating answer -- has appeared on a popular pipe organ listserv.

The poster was seeking ideas on "organ recitals with a twist." Another poster replied in part:

Organ with other solo instruments, besides brass, opens up a whole different range of repertoire, especially for 19th-21st century pieces. What you get may not be the big, splashy, all-stops-out organ fireworks, but you will get real chamber music with organ, which can draw interest from music lovers who might not otherwise attend an organ concert.

Or organ concertos with smaller, or unusual ensembles. Lots of those around from the 18th century on.

Whatever the antonym of a "can of worms" would be ("can of ... gold?"), that is what was opened up in that response.

Pianists, violinists, cellists, they all have the opportunity to make music with OTHER MUSICIANS! Fancy that: to actually leave one's practice room and make music with ANOTHER PERSON! It's not the fault of us organists: we simply don't have the chamber music repertoire that pianists, string players, woodwind players, etc. have.

This is something I thought a lot about during my teens, but I never knew how to overcome the problem of writing a work -- say, an "organ quartet" (organ, vln, vla, vc) -- that could be played on "most organs" and in "most situations."

That is: what good is writing such a piece if it would work only on 10% of organs or in 10% of choir lofts?

Many parish organists will read what I wrote about "making music with other musicians" and take great umbrage. They will hastily point out that they work regularly with their volunteer choir (heavy on the word "volunteer") or with their parishioner who happens to play the oboe (heavy on the word "parishioner"). Don't misunderstand what I'm saying: working with musicians within a parish is a great Christian opportunity, great cultural opportunity, and great community opportunity. Unfortunately, it is not always a great musical opportunity. I'm not talking about spiritual nourishment -- I have always loved working in the church. But for musical nourishment, we need to work with other musicians.

And so, I do not believe that organists will ever be as respected as other musicians unless we find a way to make chamber music viable.

So, how do we achieve that, and with what type of instruments?

Organs without pipes are not conducive to chamber music. Large, electro-pneumatic instruments (which I often enjoy) are not conducive to chamber music. Yet their movable consoles solve the basic problem of how to position the players. Therefore, the only way, in my opinion, to promote chamber music with organs is to have tracker instruments built in a way that four or five musicians can position themselves near the console and still project their sound to the audience.

However, because that would involve cooperation between organbuilders and architects -- which will never happen -- the only solution that I can see for promoting organ chamber music is the construction of small, two-manual-and-pedal pipe organs that are made to be portable.

An organbuilder should build a stock model, with Bourdons 16 & 8 in the pedal, Great Flute 8-String 8-Principal 4-Flute 2, Swell (under expression) Flute 8-Flute 4-Nazard-Principal 2-Tierce-Reed 8. The specs can be tweaked, but this instrument should be designed and mass-produced.

Yes, it would be an artistic compromise, just like the ubiquitous Steinway is an artistic compromise. But how nice to be able to compose a Piano Quintet and know, more or less, what the piano will sound like. How am I to compose an Organ Quintet if 90% of the consumers will not be able to adapt it to their instrument?

The Pianist and the Critic

(The following is an article I wrote five years ago. I’d almost forgotten about it till this morning, when by chance I came across it on the web. Amazingly, it found its way to the Wladyslaw Szpilman "The Pianist" Official Homepage (http://www.szpilman.net). It is an impassioned piece that I enjoyed re-reading.)

THE PIANIST AND THE CRITIC

“Those who can’t do, review.”

by Leonardo Ciampa

Last night I finally saw Roman Polanski’s film, The Pianist. I avoided it like the plague, the bitter taste from Shine being still in my mouth. (Shine was a perfectly enjoyable movie, until I actually heard Mr. Helfgott play in real life. Perhaps he was so named because even mit der Hilfe Gottes he still can’t play accurately.)

Not so with the Pianist and its subject, Wladyslaw Szpilman.

Firstly, just in terms of moviemaking itself, The Pianist is a phenomenal artistic achievement. This fact was all the more palpable because the previous movie my wife and I had seen was Gangs of New York. In comparison to Polanski’s work, Scorsese’s was like a bad comic book. Typical Hollywood sensationalism which, starting from the very first scene, screams to the viewer, “This is not in any way realistic or even artistic. This is just an extravaganza of superficiality designed to win awards.”

The Pianist had the ring of truth from the getgo – in large part due to the fact that Szpilman’s work was written in 1946. How brave to document his tragedy so soon after it ended.

There is an old adage, “Those who can’t do, review.” It’s one of those silly sayings about which I wish I could say, “They’re not accurate – they’re just debunking expressions used by people who like to dish.” Experience, however, has told me that this expression in particular is a truthful one.
Critic Norman Lebrecht suffers from the same ailment as virtually every other critic: They seem to be against everything but for nothing. Lebrecht’s book, The Maestro Myth, is a case in point. He glories in the demystification and deflation of every great conductor under the sun. The fact, however, remains that it is harder to conduct than it is to write about conductors.

Particularly deviant are Lebrecht’s criticisms of Maestro Szpilman, in a 2002 article entitled “The Real [sic] Szpilman Revealed.” Consider the following utterances:

Whether he was a good, bad or moderate musician is immaterial to his story.

No, in fact, it was perfectly material. Here is a man who was so respected that Jews and Gentiles alike rallied to his defense. Would they have done this for just anyone? What made Szpilman stand out among the millions and millions of other Jews who faced the same fate? Obviously (at least, it would be obvious to one with a rational and healthy mind), Szpilman was a special person with a special talent.

The composer Andrzej Panufnik … failed to mention [Szpilman] either in his memoirs, or (his widow tells me) in any of their conversations. Reich-Ranicki, who knew Szpilman in the ghetto, likewise omits him from his memoirs. … None [of the other important Polish musicians] made public acknowledgement of his contribution, if any, to their careers.

Lebrecht began his article by saying, “In classical music, you’ve got to be dead to be good. Only two or three composers at any given time achieve posterity while alive. The rest go gently into that good night, praying for posthumous recognition.” Why, then, does Lebrecht contradict himself by gloating over his inability to find contemporary kudos for Szpilman? How much contemporary kudos did J. S. Bach garner? As a keyboardist, some. As a composer? Yet another case of Lebrecht’s illogic and his obsession with desecration.

Szpilman did not achieve individual renown. He appears to have been a man with no shadow.

J. S. Bach was not renowned until Mendelssohn revived the St. Matthew Passion 77 years after Bach’s death. Shadows are not always contemporaneous with the people who cast them.

On the other hand, movies tend not to be made about critics’ lives! That’s why criticism contains more ax-grinding than aural discernment.

Musical evidence has begun to emerge from the archives of Polish Radio revealing Szpilman as an artist of ironic refinement and restrained muscularity.

The evidence does not reveal this. It reveals a musician of the highest order, a Golden Age style composer-musician who seems not to have lost a thing despite six years (!) away from his craft. All that should be there is there: a well-grounded technique, a singing melody, an ear for voicing the harmony, an understanding of the structure of the music, all unified by God-given style and taste.

[The] two tapes of the Chopin Nocturne in C-sharp minor … avoid bombast, triumphalism or sentimentality.

Is that piece bombastic, triumphal, or sentimental? Perhaps, then, Szpilman was a good interpreter.

The pianist can almost be heard to smile when there was nothing to smile about.

No, it is Lebrecht who inappropriately smiles. An autographical observation!

In the ubiquitous Rachmaninov Prelude in G-sharp he makes no attempt to compete with the fingerpower of Russian masters, but tosses the piece off with near casual panache.

Incorrect. Szpilman does have fingerpower, which is why the piece sounds “easy.” How Szpilman maintained that fingerpower during those six unspeakable years shall remain one of the great mysteries of pianism.

[The] Sony Classical disc that comes out this week [is] a testament to a shy executant.

Shy? Why, because in Chopin’s Nocturnes he doesn’t pour gasoline into the piano and throw a matchin? Szpilman is one of the only pianists in history to capture Chopin’s dreamy introversion. Or do you prefer Rubinstein’s jaded versions that reek of debauchery?

The most interesting discovery on the disc is Szpilman’s own music… (etc.)

Typical critic behavior: Disarm the reader with a seemly complimentary sentence, then whip out the condescension.

In the ghetto he composed a Gershwin-like concertino for piano and orchestra, astonishingly cocky in the deadly circumstances.

Cocky? Here Lebrecht is making two ridiculous comments – one, that Gershwin’s music is cocky, two, that Szpilman’s is. Is any music that is “lighter” than Beethoven’s somehow brash? And what is the relevance of world events? In 1937 America was in a depression, the world was at the brink of war, and Cole Porter suffered an accident that would eventually result in amputation. That didn’t stop him from writing songs like Most Gentlemen Don’t Like Love, From Now On, and Get Out Of Town. Should he somehow not have been allowed to write light-hearted songs at that time?

Naggingly persistent, [the Concertino] is not a particularly likeable piece but it lodges in the ear like a grommet. It’s one of those pieces you find yourself humming and wonder where it’s from.

Typical mentality of the 20th-century music critic: If a piece is popular, it must not be good. So if the piece didn’t stay in one’s ear, would it then qualify as a masterpiece?

In a year or two, Szpilman’s music will be played no more than Górecki’s.

An easy statement to make, because in a year or two no one will remember Lebrecht’s review in order to refute it.

Leonardo Ciampa
2 February 2004

Copyright © MMIV Leonardo A. Ciampa. All rights reserved.

Note: The soundtrack is played not by Szpilman but by another excellent Polish pianist, Janusz Olejniczak.

278 pages of music in 24 hours!

Friends,

I didn't exactly plan it this way, but within 24 hours, not one but two major collections of my music were published -- one with 128 pages, the other with 150 pages! That makes 278 pages of my music, made available for purchase anywhere in the world. 24 hours prior it was not available. A little surreal ...



The Advent/Christmas album is the result of 20 years' worth of concerts, services, Masses, and concerts.

The Five Organ Symphonies are "Neoromantic," with individual movements suitable for both concert and church use.

To purchase:

http://www.musicamultimedia.net/cic/lang/it/composers/leonardo-ciampa/2009/11/leonardo-ciampa-25-pieces-for-advent-and-christmasleonardo-ciampa-25-pezzi-per-lavvento-e-il-natale/

http://www.musicamultimedia.net/cic/composers/leonardo-ciampa/2009/06/leonardo-ciampa-organ-symphoniesleonardo-ciampa-sinfonie-per-organo/