Monthly Archives: August 2018

Prior to his performance of Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.21 in C Major, K467 at the Lucerne Music Festival on August 23, 1950, a concert that would be his last appearance with orchestra, Dinu Lipatti was interviewed by Henri Jaton. Swiss Radio archives only possess excerpts of this interview, in which Jaton reminisces about the interview while playing portions of it. However, the entire interview does exist in private hands, and the text is published here complete for the first time. I will first post the audio link on YouTube for the excerpts and a translation of these excerpts, and further down you can read my translation of the entire unedited interview and hear the performance of the Mozart Concerto from that concert.

 

HJ – Participant at the Lucerne Festival in a concert on the program of which was an important work of the French symphonic repertoire, Lipatti offered me as regards this work, that is Roussel’s Fourth Symphony, the pertinent observations which follow:

Its importance seems rather significant in view of the fact that it brings forth a new element. In its particularly French writing, it seems to me, if I am not mistaken, to reveal a certain Franckist influence. And by this I would say that there is a certain indirect influence of German polyphonic writing. I like it. I cannot judge it completely as one hearing alone is not sufficient to allow me to fully grasp a work, but I like it in that there is a line that is maintained, particularly in the second movement, which is homogeneous yet concise. It seems to be that this is a work destined to be heard by the public at large while bringing pleasure to those who study it and who read the score.

HJ – An ideal interpreter of Mozart’s works, Dinu Lipatti then discussed the nature of the evolution that one finds throughout the cycle of Mozart’s piano concertos:

There is, in my opinion, an even more significant evolution in the polyphonic symphonic writing between the piano and the orchestra in the Mozart Concertos than there is in the solo piano part. It seems that he leaves the Italian influence to touch upon the Germanic. I am thinking now of the last Concerto in C Major of Mozart, which brings to mind in an irresistible manner the first works of Beethoven.

For me, the pianistic characteristics of Mozart’s writing changed less than his general polyphonic approach in the structure of the piano concerto.

HJ – Lipatti brought his elegance to the point that he wrote his own cadenzas for the Mozart Concerto that he was performing that night, and on the subject of which he remarked…

I write my own cadenzas, but only for those Mozart Concertos which do not have any. Otherwise I would not allow myself to act with such impertinence.

If I could improvise them in concert – alas, we can no longer, not having such training in our century – I would obviously prefer to do so. Not being able to do so, I aim to construct a cadenza by improvising it on paper, if I may express myself this way. That is to say, keeping all of the elements of the concerto, not departing from the style as much as possible, yet adding new, post-Mozartian acquisitions, if I may express myself this way, in the pianistic writing. For a cadenza is after all the act of a soloist who is playing, in 1950 on the theme of Mozart, that which comes to him.

The sound of the modern piano has almost nothing in common with the sound of the piano of Mozart’s time. And I find that one must bring into a cadenza the ornaments, the technical advances which have since been acquired, all the while conforming to the composer’s style as regards the harmonic writing.

HJ – In this final interview [sic – Lipatti did one more], I paid hommage not only to the pianist whom we all admire but also to the composer, who revealed his intentions as regards the balance he aimed to achieve between the piano and orchestra in one of his best-received works, the Danses Roumaines:

In the Danses Roumaines, I gave the piano a supporting role, as the orchestra is very large, and in these dances I don’t consider the piano to be anything other than a piano obligato. If, as I hope, I write a piano concerto in the near future, I will aim to do the opposite: that is, have a small orchestra, one of each wind instrument so that each soloist has the freedom to express himself fully, but also so that the piano might have its noble role, that given it by Chopin, from which we ought not to depart today under the pretext of having too large an instrumental ensemble at its side.

HJ – And finally, my dear listeners, we cannot listen without deep emotion to the plans that Lipatti had envisioned as regards his work as a composer. We can even better comprehend the immense loss that we have suffered and the extent to which the death of this artist have robbed us forever of the tremendous joy that he provided us with his endless generosity.

As regards my personal output – I was very ill these past few years – I have composed very little. I have a Quartet for Wind Instruments, a few Melodies, which are almost nothing in terms of production, but this winter I hope to be able to compose more prolifically.

Here is the translation of the complete interview:

HJ: My dear listeners, on the occasion of the rebroadcast of the 2nd orchestral concert of the Lucerne Festival, I had the pleasure of allowing you to hear Ernest Ansermet in person. Today, I am delighted to have been able to bring here, in front of the microphone and by my side, Dinu Lipatti, who will be the soloist in this, the 5th orchestral concert of the Lucerne Festival. Before asking Dinu Lipatti his impressions of the programme, of the works that you will be hearing, I would like to let him know that I believe I can speak for you all in expressing our joy at seeing him today on a path that will lead him to a complete recovery. I will address myself now, ladies and gentlemen, to the composer Dinu, whose output is already deemed important, and ask him his impression of the first work on the program, that is to say Roussel’s Fourth Symphony. My dear Mr. Lipatti, what do you think of this work and what do feel is its place in contemporary French symphonic output?

DL: Its importance seems rather significant in view of the fact that it brings forth a new element. In its particularly French writing, it seems to me, if I am not mistaken, to reveal a certain Franckist influence. And by this I would say that there is a certain indirect influence of German polyphonic writing. I like it. I cannot judge it completely as one hearing alone is not sufficient to allow me to fully grasp a work, but I like it in that there is a line that is maintained, particularly in the second movement, which is homogeneous yet concise. It seems to be that this is a work destined to be heard by the public at large while bringing pleasure to those who study it and who read the score.

HJ: You just mentioned the Franckist influence. Do you not find that it manifests quite clearly? There is perhaps even a co-relation in the tonality of A Major in the last movement of the symphony.

DL: Yes, exactly. It is that which made my think of it a little bit.

HJ: Do you not see a kinship, even a close one, with the finale of the famous Sonata for Violin and Piano?

DL: Yes, yes, now that I think about it, I believe that there is a rather strong connection.

HJ: My dear Mr. Lipatti, perhaps you would allow me to address myself more directly to the pianist Lipatti. As I see that you have programmed a Mozart Concerto, may I ask you, who knows the Mozartian repertoire so well, if we can detect an evolution as regards the pianistic writing in the Mozart concertos, starting from the first ones, for example, up to those from the final period, the B-Flat Major, the C Major which you will be performing?

DL: There is, in my opinion, an even more significant evolution in the polyphonic symphonic writing between the piano and the orchestra in the Mozart Concertos than there is in the solo piano part. It seems that he leaves the Italian influence to touch upon the Germanic. I am thinking now of the last Concerto in C Major of Mozart, which brings to mind in an irresistible manner the first works of Beethoven.

HJ: But the pianistic writing, the virtuosic elements, do they seem to be built and constructed in the same way in all of Mozart’s Concerti?

DL: Yes. It seems to me that he is rather devoted to his earliest writing. For me, the pianistic characteristics of Mozart’s writing changed less than his general polyphonic approach in the structure of the piano concerto.

HJ: Yes. And I think that you must have deeply analyzed this pianistic writing since, I believe, you are the composer of the cadenzas of the concerto that we will hear, those of the first and last movements?

DL: Exactly. I write my own cadenzas, but only for those Mozart Concertos which do not have any. Otherwise I would not allow myself to act with such impertinence.

HJ: And to what guidelines do you refer, in general, for the composition of a cadenza? Have you taken the principle of improvisation that was the traditional approach of the time, or is it for you a thoroughly deliberate structure, a pre-determined design?

DL: If I could improvise them in concert – alas, we can no longer, not having such training in our century – I would obviously prefer to do so. Not being able to do so, I aim to construct a cadenza by improvising it on paper, if I may express myself this way. That is to say, keeping all of the elements of the concerto, not departing from the style as much as possible, yet adding new, post-Mozartian acquisitions, if I may express myself this way, in the pianistic writing. For a cadenza is after all the act of a soloist who is playing, in 1950 on the theme of Mozart, that which comes to him.

HJ: And yet I believe that you have also kept in mind the nature of the present-day piano, from which you have drawn more varied possibilities.

DL: Precisely. The sound of the modern piano has almost nothing in common with the sound of the piano of Mozart’s time. And I find that one must bring into a cadenza the ornaments, the technical advances which have since been acquired, all the while conforming to the composer’s style as regards the harmonic writing.

HJ: This awareness of the piano is above all the balance of the piano with orchestra. It seems to me that you already demonstrated this earlier in your Danses Roumaines, which you yourself performed a few years ago, if I remember correctly, under the direction of Ansermet. What would you say was your technique of balancing the solo instrument with the orchestra in this case?

DL: In the Danses Roumaines, I gave the piano a supporting role, as the orchestra is very large, and in these dances I don’t consider the piano to be anything other than a piano obligato. If, as I hope, I write a piano concerto in the near future, I will aim to do the opposite: that is, have a small orchestra, one of each wind instrument so that each soloist has the freedom to express himself fully, but also so that the piano might have its noble role, that given it by Chopin, from which we ought not to depart today under the pretext of having too large an instrumental ensemble at its side.

HJ: You have been speaking of your Danses Roumaines. Have other works followed in its wake?

DL: Alas, very few. As regards my personal output – I was very ill these past few years – I have composed very little. I have a Quartet for Wind Instruments, a few Melodies, which are almost nothing in terms of production, but this winter I hope to be able to compose more prolifically.

HJ: We are delighted to hear that. To conclude, if you would permit me, Mr. Lipatti, to ask about something more current. I believe that at the rehearsal I saw you looking particularly satisfied with the orchestral accompaniment. What do you think of the festival orchestra which, it seems to me, must have a certain degree of flexibility since, as you know, it changes conductors for each symphonic concert?

DL: It is just that which surprises me, which amazes me, as this orchestra, which is in fact a makeshift orchestra as regards its formation, has such stunning homogeneity and integration. For me, the accompaniment of the Mozart was a dream – Karajan accompanied me admirably, and I find that this ensemble gives the impression of being a permanent fixture, as if they worked together the entire year. It’s a wonderful orchestra in all respects.

HJ: Well then, my dear Mr. Lipatti, I do not wish to rob you of your time and I think that you will certainly need to rest before the upcoming concert. I thank you on behalf of all our listeners today, and I am convinced, ladies and gentlemen, that after having heard such a clear and lively explanation of tonight’s programme, that listening to Dinu Lipatti perform will bring you even more pleasure.

This translation © Mark Ainley 2001

And here is the performance of the Mozart Piano Concerto No.21 K.467 from that Lucerne Festival concert of August 23, 1950.

I was delighted to be asked to write the liner notes for a new DG Eloquence CD featuring Hungarian pianist Andor Foldes’ Mozart Concerto recordings (available here) – five of them made in the decade between 1954 and 1963, spanning the pianist’s 40s (he was aged 40 to 49) – along with his reading of Beethoven’s rarely-played Choral Fantasy. Foldes was not a pianist who was particularly on my horizon and I am happy to say that in researching him and listening to these (and other) recordings, I came to appreciate much more greatly his pianism and the principles behind his playing.

Below are the notes for the newly issued CD:

‘Put a little smile on the face of the music.’ Andor Foldes is in rehearsal, encouraging orchestra members to capture the jubilant atmosphere of Mozart’s C major Concerto, KV 467. ‘Not so seriously,’ he cautions in his charming Hungarian accent, shaping his words with the same lilt and buoyancy that characterise his playing. Foldes was very serious, however, when it came to the role of the interpreter: the highly intellectual musician believed that a concert artist is not merely a performer but a ‘re-creator of great music’, stating that ‘in the realm of notes, where the little black dots reign supreme, we need an interpreter, a musical performer who translates the composer’s thoughts into the language of the particular instrument for which they are written.’ The duty of interpreter, Foldes espoused, is to reveal in performance the composer’s actual thoughts and thereby bring to life the spirit of the music.

Foldes noted that a composer’s thoughts and intentions are inevitably filtered through the personality of the performer, which accounts for the wide array of approaches one can hear amongst musicians. ‘It is not that they want to be different, but because of differences in their musical background, mental make-up, taste – even their blood pressures – we always get hyphenated performances. We can never hear only Beethoven: we listen to Beethoven-Schnabel, or Beethoven-Toscanini, or Beethoven-Heifetz.’ Not that this need be an issue when a performer was inspired and informed: Foldes wrote that when in his native Hungary he attended a concert of the legendary cellist Pablo Casals, the performance ‘was not all Bach, Beethoven and Falla – but Casals, Casals and Casals again. But did this diminish my enchantment? Not a bit. It was great. It was unforgettable.’

Foldes’s observation that innumerable factors shape performers’ interpretations was accompanied by a belief that musicians need to evolve continually over the course of their careers. In a 1968 interview, he noted that he ‘would be very sad indeed’ if his playing had not changed in the 45 years he had thus far been presenting Mozart’s music in public: ‘as one grows and works and plays [it] many times in many places with many orchestras under many different circumstances, one does get a little nearer to what is essential.’ He added that ‘each performance is an exciting thing, it is a living thing – it is something which happens today, and every day is different.’

His views on evolution and spontaneity in performance were at odds with the permanent nature of commercial studio recordings, a challenge of which Foldes was very much aware. ‘Recording a disc is one of the most difficult tasks for a performing artist … [as] what is recorded is there for eternity … It must be a version that will stand the test of time, and yet not be “set in stone”; it must capture the essence of that intuitive moment, and yet convey the definitiveness imposed upon it by the very nature of the situation.’ Yet as evidenced by his extensive critically-lauded discography for the Deutsche Grammophon label, which covers a wide array of solo and concerted works, Foldes clearly valued recordings and therefore sought to bring as much aliveness and spontaneity to his readings in the studio as he did to performances before an audience.

Foldes is less lionized today than many of his contemporaries in spite of his having had a distinguished international career spanning seven decades; concertgoers and record collectors, however, remember his artistry with great fondness and respect. The versatile musician was not only a prolific concert performer and recording artist but also a pedagogue, teacher, transcriber, and writer. While he programmed contemporary works by Stravinsky, Thomson, Poulenc, Barber and Copland, his repertoire extended back to Bach and his live appearances and recordings featured a wide array of classical compositions. Foldes gave his first public appearance at the age of eight playing Mozart’s Piano Concerto in B flat major KV 450 with István Kerner leading the Budapest Philharmonic, and Beethoven followed the next year when he performed his First Piano Concerto.

It is with these two composers that we explore Foldes’s artistry in this volume, which features alongside Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy the five Mozart concertos he recorded for Deutsche Grammophon in the decade from 1954 to 1963. In these vibrant readings made at the midpoint of the pianist’s career (when he was aged 40 to 49), the musician’s quest for evolution and vitality is evident: Foldes plays consistently with breathtaking simplicity, presenting this divinely inspired music with disarming directness.

The 1955 recording of Mozart’s Concerto for Two Pianos in E flat major KV 365 with fellow DG artist Carl Seemann finds both pianists playing with transparent textures and rhythmic buoyancy in the outer movements, sumptuous phrasing serving their lush treatment of the second movement. In Foldes’s 1963 account of the Concerto No. 15 in B flat major KV 450 – the work that had 41 years earlier launched his public career – the youthful simplicity and enthusiasm characteristic of Mozart’s idiom is presented with clear voicing, elegant phrasing and rhythmic buoyancy.

The 1957 reading of the ever-popular C major Concerto KV 467 finds Foldes highlighting the joyous mood of the faster movements (‘not so seriously!’) with upbeat phrasing and crisp articulation, adding spontaneity and his personal stamp with his own cadenzas and Eingang improvisatory passages (as was the custom in Mozart’s time). He envisioned the second movement depicting ‘a magic lake in which a black swan is swimming – it comes and by the time is disappears the movement is over’ – and the pianist’s fluid phrasing and beautiful dynamic nuancing paint a sonic portrait of this imaginary scene.

The earliest recording presented in this collection is the 1954 account of the G major Concerto KV 453, which reveals to perfection Foldes’ singing sonority and seamless legato; his crystalline trills, fluid arpeggios, and deftly-defined finger-work in the first movement are particularly beguiling. His 1963 reading of the Concerto No.25 in C major KV 503 features beautifully burnished lines and attentive balance between melodic and harmonic elements, the interplay between orchestra and soloist being remarkably cohesive.

The 1955 recording of Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy completes the reissue across multiple releases of Foldes’s studio readings of Beethoven’s works. He highlights the power of the score with golden tone and transparent voicing, never resorting to exaggerated displays of force. His insightful approach, together with the wonderfully coordinated ensemble with orchestra and choir, makes this traversal a reference recording of a frequently overlooked masterpiece.

Describing his experience as a youth in Hungary hearing Bruno Walter play and conduct a Mozart concerto, Foldes stated that all in attendance ‘were happy, so obviously happy, in the service of a higher power – Mozart’s spirit’. Fortunately for posterity, Foldes has done similar justice to both Mozart and Beethoven in the accounts presented here (Mozart-Foldes and Beethoven-Foldes, as he himself might express it). Andor Foldes puts a smile on the face of the music as well as in the ears of the listener.

Liner notes © Mark Ainley 2018

Ordering information here

Click here for the official YouTube playlist for this release

And here is the charming interview and filmed excerpts of rehearsals for Mozart’s Concerto K.467 to which I referred in the notes:

 

 

Given that it was the existence of a recording of Rachmaninoff playing his own Second Piano Concerto that woke me up to the magic of historical recordings, I couldn’t be more excited when I heard rumours that an unofficial recording of Rachmaninoff had been found. And when Marston Records, prior to their public announcement, asked me to help create an introductory video and do some online promotion as I had for the Landmarks volume that included some previously unknown Lipatti recordings that I helped locate, I was beyond delighted…. and once I heard the actual playing itself, I was absolutely mesmerized. It was even more incredible than I had expected.

A summary of the recording that has been found is told – and samples included – in the video I produced:

The playing on display in the entire performance of the Symphonic Dances is thoroughly remarkable: soaring phrasing, expansive rubato, gorgeous dynamic shadings, magical pedal effects… everything even beyond the very high standard of Rachmaninoff’s brilliant studio recordings. As Ira Levin discusses in his wonderful essay in the booklet, it raises questions about the different style of playing he may have had in concert from what we are familiar with in his officially sanctioned studio-produced discs. You can read Levin’s terrific essay ‘A Musician’s Reaction’ about two thirds of the way down at this link on the Marston website (click the Liner Notes tab under the photo), after Richard Taruskin’s remarkably informative exploration of this recording:

https://www.marstonrecords.com/collections/frontpage/products/rachmaninoff

This is quite simply one of the most important historical recordings ever to have been located and its release on September 4, 2018 is something that all musicians should look forward to with great anticipation.