Let us set aside all political opinions and rake "Richard Nixon, pianist" over the coals instead.
Here, performing (presumably on "The Tonight Show" with Jack Paar) is pianist Richard Nixon - from 1963, before he became President, performing an original composition - let us call it "I Know the G Major Arpeggio" - Paar took the trouble to have an orchestral accompaniment added to this lovely number. (G Major is a great key for string players, by the way.)
This will never be a political blog (follow me on Twitter for that - robertsonrick) - but there is a famous old one-liner that Nixon said about pianists - and it's here.
Now, there's gotta be a clip of Harry Truman out there somewhere - I recall reading that his favorite Chopin waltz was op. 42 in A flat...
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
RACHMANINOFF PLAYS RACHMANINOFF - Prelude in C Sharp Minor, op. 3 no. 2
This EXCELLENT video by record collector and music historian Carsten Fischer is worth watching.
In it he plays all three phonograph recordings by Sergei Rachmaninoff of his famous Prelude in C Sharp Minor. - the PHONOGRAPH RECORDINGS as opposed to the more frequently-heard recordings of the Ampico player-piano roll. Certain subtleties in his style are lost in the translation with the piano-roll process, and those who can hear through the surface noise will discover this as well.
Not only that, he discusses the differences and provides links to related videos and topics about Rachmaninoff's playing.
Pictured is my copy of the first recording (1919) of the piece by the composer. It was predated by Wilhelm Backhaus, who recorded this perennial old favorite around 1909 for the Gramophone Company, released in the US by Victor (believed to be the first recording of it) and Josef Hofmann for Columbia in 1912, as well as Julius P. Schendel for Victor around 1918.
The 1923 Victor better shows the way he voiced the opening chords.
And I should add that these three recordings, and the Ampico piano roll, lay to rest the HORRENDOUS misprint that exists in many editions, perpetrated (I believe) by the old Oesterle/Schirmer edition. A copy of an old Russian edition of ths prelude may be found here. In Measure 5 (not counting the pickup), the chord in the left hand on beat 2 has a D SHARP. Someone along the way edited this to D natural, here, and at the repeat at the climax. Many renowned pianists, including one who studied with Rachmaninoff, play this misprint. I plan to do an article on the origin (and evolution) of this egregious mistake later.
I have nothing else to add to the discussion on these three recordings, as I feel that Carsten does an excellent job of compare-and-contrast.
UPDATE - December 2010: I have included Carsten's video descriptions and links below. In the first incarnation of this article, the video was not imbedded, and the reader would have seen those links there.
In it he plays all three phonograph recordings by Sergei Rachmaninoff of his famous Prelude in C Sharp Minor. - the PHONOGRAPH RECORDINGS as opposed to the more frequently-heard recordings of the Ampico player-piano roll. Certain subtleties in his style are lost in the translation with the piano-roll process, and those who can hear through the surface noise will discover this as well.
Not only that, he discusses the differences and provides links to related videos and topics about Rachmaninoff's playing.
The 1923 Victor better shows the way he voiced the opening chords.
And I should add that these three recordings, and the Ampico piano roll, lay to rest the HORRENDOUS misprint that exists in many editions, perpetrated (I believe) by the old Oesterle/Schirmer edition. A copy of an old Russian edition of ths prelude may be found here. In Measure 5 (not counting the pickup), the chord in the left hand on beat 2 has a D SHARP. Someone along the way edited this to D natural, here, and at the repeat at the climax. Many renowned pianists, including one who studied with Rachmaninoff, play this misprint. I plan to do an article on the origin (and evolution) of this egregious mistake later.
I have nothing else to add to the discussion on these three recordings, as I feel that Carsten does an excellent job of compare-and-contrast.
UPDATE - December 2010: I have included Carsten's video descriptions and links below. In the first incarnation of this article, the video was not imbedded, and the reader would have seen those links there.
All three recordings of Rachmaninoff playing the C# Minor Prelude, from his first 1919 Edison record, the 1923 acoustic, and the 1928 Victor electric remake.
Recorded on the HMV 31b Orthophonic Gramophone.
I have equalized the sound recordings (with a RIAA curve) to help with bass response. Otherwise the recordings are not manipulated. The few distortions are digital artifacts due to the recording level.
The identical movie below is a straight recording from the Gramophone without equalization added.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jKg0u...
The Prelude in C Sharp Minor, The Bells of Moscow, is arguably Rachmaninoffs most (in)famous work. It had been recorded as early as 1917 by Mark Hambourg and Josef Hofmann.
When Rachmaninoff arrived in New York shortly after armistice in 1918, he had a difficult start like many Russian émigrés. To make his first recordings, he signed up with the Edison company, who claimed for themselves to have a superior recording process.
Rachmaninoff nervous and insecure with the unknown recording experience recorded a few pieces in many takes in April 1919 at the Edison New York studio.
Unfortunately, the Edison company had no track record dealing with celebrity pianists: Rachmaninoff was forced to play on an upright piano, and despite his wishes to publish only certain good takes, the Edison company also published takes containing slips or embarrassing mistakes. Thomas A. Edison himself very hard of hearing called Rachmaninoff dismissively just a pounder. Matters were not helped by the fact that Edison records of 1920 had many defects, and the high noise level drowned out much musical subtlety.
Disappointed with this first experience, Rachmaninoff signed on with Victor on April 21, 1920. After a period of rather undistinguished recording quality, Victor had improved their acoustic recording process substantially in the 1920s. Victor was happy to grant Rachmaninoff artistic control over record releases, and offered him a substantial contract.
In the beginning, Victor avoided duplicating the Edison recordings, and it was not until 1923 that the C# Minor prelude was recorded again. In 1925, the famous Wester Electric system of electric recording was introduced, and Rachmaninoff was one of the first artists to make electric piano records. Again, the Prelude was low priority, and an electric re-take was not made until 1928.
The three recordings, despite some technical shortcomings, are a fascinating document of technology and artistic interpretation: Rachmaninoff makes each recording unique with subtle changes in accents, tempo and rubato. Also, with the electric recording, he is free to employ a much greater dynamic range.
One interesting point of speculation is how the recording technology affected the sound and perhaps interpretation of the pieces.
While both acoustic recordings have somewhat wooden bass notes, they very nicely accentuate the treble lines. The electric recording, while full and dramatic, seems to be somewhat less focused, perhaps even plodding, compared to the acoustic Victor. In my mind, the acoustic Victor is the best recording, as a focused interpretation, and an even tonal range.
The Edison recording, even when ignoring the technical defects, does not seem to be quite as balanced, the treble is not quite as integrated, and there seems to be a curious tonal dip in the upper midrange. A curious fact is that much of the treble line disappears on the electric.
Lets check the bell effects in the treble line:
On the Edison, the treble line at 2:32 and 2:55 is nice and clear, but seems to be somewhat too sharp, and not integrated with the midrange.
On the Victor acoustic, at 5:55 6:06 6:25, the sparkling treble line is perfectly blended and gives the great bell sound.
On the electric at 9:34 and 9:46, the treble line all but disappears, and the bell sound is mostly lost.
Please read my notes on the other video for more information on the physical records and the gramophone used.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jKg0u...
Some links:
a really clean transfer of the Edison -
RACHMANINOFF plays Prelude in C# Minor: 1919 Edison, http://www.nps.gov/edis/photosmultime...
The 1928 Victor (somewhat overfiltered)
http://www.archive.org/details/Prelud...
A 1942 documentary about how they made Victor records:
http://www.archive.org/details/Comman...
Check out more great tunes and amazing vintage phonographs at My YouTube Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/user/sanfranphono
More about this and other machines
on my Changer Website
http://myvintagetv.com/updatepages1/c...
Recorded on the HMV 31b Orthophonic Gramophone.
I have equalized the sound recordings (with a RIAA curve) to help with bass response. Otherwise the recordings are not manipulated. The few distortions are digital artifacts due to the recording level.
The identical movie below is a straight recording from the Gramophone without equalization added.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jKg0u...
The Prelude in C Sharp Minor, The Bells of Moscow, is arguably Rachmaninoffs most (in)famous work. It had been recorded as early as 1917 by Mark Hambourg and Josef Hofmann.
When Rachmaninoff arrived in New York shortly after armistice in 1918, he had a difficult start like many Russian émigrés. To make his first recordings, he signed up with the Edison company, who claimed for themselves to have a superior recording process.
Rachmaninoff nervous and insecure with the unknown recording experience recorded a few pieces in many takes in April 1919 at the Edison New York studio.
Unfortunately, the Edison company had no track record dealing with celebrity pianists: Rachmaninoff was forced to play on an upright piano, and despite his wishes to publish only certain good takes, the Edison company also published takes containing slips or embarrassing mistakes. Thomas A. Edison himself very hard of hearing called Rachmaninoff dismissively just a pounder. Matters were not helped by the fact that Edison records of 1920 had many defects, and the high noise level drowned out much musical subtlety.
Disappointed with this first experience, Rachmaninoff signed on with Victor on April 21, 1920. After a period of rather undistinguished recording quality, Victor had improved their acoustic recording process substantially in the 1920s. Victor was happy to grant Rachmaninoff artistic control over record releases, and offered him a substantial contract.
In the beginning, Victor avoided duplicating the Edison recordings, and it was not until 1923 that the C# Minor prelude was recorded again. In 1925, the famous Wester Electric system of electric recording was introduced, and Rachmaninoff was one of the first artists to make electric piano records. Again, the Prelude was low priority, and an electric re-take was not made until 1928.
The three recordings, despite some technical shortcomings, are a fascinating document of technology and artistic interpretation: Rachmaninoff makes each recording unique with subtle changes in accents, tempo and rubato. Also, with the electric recording, he is free to employ a much greater dynamic range.
One interesting point of speculation is how the recording technology affected the sound and perhaps interpretation of the pieces.
While both acoustic recordings have somewhat wooden bass notes, they very nicely accentuate the treble lines. The electric recording, while full and dramatic, seems to be somewhat less focused, perhaps even plodding, compared to the acoustic Victor. In my mind, the acoustic Victor is the best recording, as a focused interpretation, and an even tonal range.
The Edison recording, even when ignoring the technical defects, does not seem to be quite as balanced, the treble is not quite as integrated, and there seems to be a curious tonal dip in the upper midrange. A curious fact is that much of the treble line disappears on the electric.
Lets check the bell effects in the treble line:
On the Edison, the treble line at 2:32 and 2:55 is nice and clear, but seems to be somewhat too sharp, and not integrated with the midrange.
On the Victor acoustic, at 5:55 6:06 6:25, the sparkling treble line is perfectly blended and gives the great bell sound.
On the electric at 9:34 and 9:46, the treble line all but disappears, and the bell sound is mostly lost.
Please read my notes on the other video for more information on the physical records and the gramophone used.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jKg0u...
Some links:
a really clean transfer of the Edison -
RACHMANINOFF plays Prelude in C# Minor: 1919 Edison, http://www.nps.gov/edis/photosmultime...
The 1928 Victor (somewhat overfiltered)
http://www.archive.org/details/Prelud...
A 1942 documentary about how they made Victor records:
http://www.archive.org/details/Comman...
Check out more great tunes and amazing vintage phonographs at My YouTube Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/user/sanfranphono
More about this and other machines
on my Changer Website
http://myvintagetv.com/updatepages1/c...
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Anderson and Roe take on the Moonlight Sonata
This video "gets me" every time I see it. Talented piano duo Greg Anderson and Elizabeth Joy Roe do a "dramatic" performance of the all-too-familiar first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The skits are dramatic presentations of actual comments posted on YouTube videos of this piece by noted artists such as Kissin, Kempff, Horowitz, and Argerich.
Their website (thanks, Chase!) is at http://www.andersonroe.net/ - guess I was typing .com, but thought I was trying to access it from a search result. Oh well, it's fixed now. They have a CD out as well; I have it and it is fantastic. It is available as a download from iTunes.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Ravel's Jeux d'eau: a "newer" look at an old favorite
Anyone here considering playing Ravel’s Jeux d’eau in the near future? This piece has been an obsession for me, staying in the back of my mind for some time. I have played the Sonatine many times, and still have it under my fingers to a degree. I actually got Jeux d’eau to the point about ten years ago where I could "cover the notes" at a slow speed – then dropped it and moved on. (The reader will soon learn that I have something I call "musical ADHD".)
On my last trip to Atlanta (and Hutchins and Rea Music) I decided to pick up a new copy and think about taking the piece back up. Even though I have the Alfred, Schirmer (edited by Rafael Joseffy), and a reprint of the original Demets edition at home (and probably a few others), I wanted to see if the new Peters Urtext (ed. Roger Nichols) had anything new to offer in the way of fingerings, etc. The Alfred edition is edited and fingered by Maurice Hinson, NOT Nancy Bricard who worked sheer miracles with Gaspard, Miroirs, and Le Tombeau de Couperin. Alfred ought to commission her to edit the entire Ravel oeuvre.
Alas, the Peters/Nichols Jeux d’eau was NOT fingered. Which to me was odd because my Sonatine in the same edition is.
They had a Masters Music Publications edition in the files, and I was curious to see which edition they bootlegged this time – Schirmer? Demets? I presume you all are familiar with their editions – usually reprints of public-domain editions of the standards, similar to what Kalmus (later handled by Belwin-Mills) sold for years. Actually, the piano-score division of Edwin Kalmus evolved into Masters. I have a Masters edition of Le Tombeau de Couperin, and it is a reprint of the original Durand.
No reprint here. This is a new edition, edited and fingered by Richard Dowling. There are two pages of "program notes" and the music is NEWLY ENGRAVED, (appears to be done with a computer music-notation program) with generous fingering and some of the most ingenious hand redistributions that one can imagine! Page turns are convenient, the score is clear and easy to read, and his suggestions make the piece so much easier to play.
I am considering committing myself to finally finish what I started with this piece, and encourage anyone out there who wants to add this to their repertoire to check out this edition, no matter how many other ones you own. This edition, as it stands, is a master lesson on the piece.
Maurice Ravel: Jeux d’eau
Edited by Richard Dowling
Masters Music Publications M3783
Although this was originally posted to the Yahoo! group ThePiano in 2006, I had the urge to share it here, as I feel that this edition is useful for teacher and performer alike, and merits attention.
On my last trip to Atlanta (and Hutchins and Rea Music) I decided to pick up a new copy and think about taking the piece back up. Even though I have the Alfred, Schirmer (edited by Rafael Joseffy), and a reprint of the original Demets edition at home (and probably a few others), I wanted to see if the new Peters Urtext (ed. Roger Nichols) had anything new to offer in the way of fingerings, etc. The Alfred edition is edited and fingered by Maurice Hinson, NOT Nancy Bricard who worked sheer miracles with Gaspard, Miroirs, and Le Tombeau de Couperin. Alfred ought to commission her to edit the entire Ravel oeuvre.
Alas, the Peters/Nichols Jeux d’eau was NOT fingered. Which to me was odd because my Sonatine in the same edition is.
They had a Masters Music Publications edition in the files, and I was curious to see which edition they bootlegged this time – Schirmer? Demets? I presume you all are familiar with their editions – usually reprints of public-domain editions of the standards, similar to what Kalmus (later handled by Belwin-Mills) sold for years. Actually, the piano-score division of Edwin Kalmus evolved into Masters. I have a Masters edition of Le Tombeau de Couperin, and it is a reprint of the original Durand.
No reprint here. This is a new edition, edited and fingered by Richard Dowling. There are two pages of "program notes" and the music is NEWLY ENGRAVED, (appears to be done with a computer music-notation program) with generous fingering and some of the most ingenious hand redistributions that one can imagine! Page turns are convenient, the score is clear and easy to read, and his suggestions make the piece so much easier to play.
I am considering committing myself to finally finish what I started with this piece, and encourage anyone out there who wants to add this to their repertoire to check out this edition, no matter how many other ones you own. This edition, as it stands, is a master lesson on the piece.
Maurice Ravel: Jeux d’eau
Edited by Richard Dowling
Masters Music Publications M3783
Although this was originally posted to the Yahoo! group ThePiano in 2006, I had the urge to share it here, as I feel that this edition is useful for teacher and performer alike, and merits attention.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Pre-Beginning Beginnings
I never claimed to be a prodigy at the piano, or any other instrument I played. But here is the photographic evidence that I at least mastered ONE thing at a very early age. Yes, I had a record collection that early. And by three and a half I could read at a functional level, having learned from my mother. She taught me to read by using the titles and artists on record labels. Seriously.
We believe that both of these pictures were taken around 1962, with the top picture being earlier. The picture is not very clear, but my portable record player is on the couch. As I got bigger, I could reach over and into the larger "console model" in the living room.
Beginnings
Because a blog has to start SOMEWHERE, and I will introduce myself slowly over time, I take you, dear reader, to the very beginning, when I first placed my then-skinny self upon a piano bench.
In the fifth grade or so, my mother decided that I needed something to occupy my time. It was decided that I would take piano lessons. I don't think that I ever asked for lessons, it just seemed the thing to do.
My first piano teacher was a colorful woman by the name of Myra French (pictured above, circa 1974, with yours truly - sardine shoulders and all.) Her husband Ray was my third cousin. She could talk the ears off of Prince Charles. I loved her. I think Mama paid $2.50 for a 30-minute lesson.
For some odd reason Myra dispensed with the modern, up-to-date (at the time) David Carr Glover method she was using with the other students, and put me in a little oblong-shaped red book entitled "Teaching Little Fingers to Play". It was a letdown for a ten-year-old, and a mentally gifted ten-year-old at that. But Myra had her reasons. That was my first contact with the John Thompson Piano Course.
I guess I progressed rapidly, but not at at an alarming rate. I have taught students who seemed to have progressed faster than I did. I never really thought of myself as musically gifted; I was just doing something I enjoyed.
In my first recital in spring of 1971 I played two pieces - "Our School Band" by David Carr Glover, and an original composition - my first - "The Happy Homework Hum". It was in an A major five-finger position and used only two chords - I and V7.
Over the years I remember a few other recital performances, nothing out of the ordinary. The Frenches had moved from Roanoke to Fayette, Alabama in 1972, and I did not study piano during my seventh-grade year.
I had continued working on my own in those John Thompson Second and Third Grade Books, reveling in such fine literature as the Burgmueller Ballade (my first big classical warhorse; I thought I was something when I could play that) and the Barcarolle from Offenbach's "Tales of Hoffmann". I played the Barcarolle in a school talent show; I think it was a success. It was the first time that my teachers knew that I "could play".
The French family returned to Roanoke the following year and I resumed study with Myra. By then I was playing a little Bach - the ubiquitous Prelude in C from the Well-Tempered Clavier, and some of the pieces from the Anna Magdalena Notebook.
I recall playing that Bach prelude at a recital in a local nursing home, along with - get this - "Tubular Bells - Theme from 'The Exorcist'"! (hey, it was a cool piece for a fourteen-year-old). In my last recital with Myra (the above photo is from that recital) I played the John Thompson arrangement of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody no. 2, and the John Schaum arrangement of the Grieg Piano Concerto. I have a cassette recording of this performance somewhere, and it's really embarrassing. Instead of using printed programs, we announced our pieces before we played. From the sound of the tape recording, I think my voice changed sometime during that evening.
Myra Keeble French Williamson died early in the morning of June 20, 2010, of an apparent heart attack. I had the honor of giving a brief eulogy at her funeral, and her former students Sanford Watson and myself performed. I played the Chopin Etude in C sharp minor, op. 25 no. 7. Myra gave so much to our community, in ways that reached beyond music. For I am white, and Sanford is black. Myra was the first piano teacher in our town to accept black students. Sanford went on to study with me, then attended Jacksonville (Alabama) State University on a piano scholarship, where he received a bachelor of education degree with a major in music. He is now the band director at Handley Middle School in Roanoke, Alabama, still a close friend, and a role model to the children he teaches.
To the memory of Myra, and to small-town piano teachers everywhere, I dedicate this blog, and welcome your comments and suggestions.
To the memory of Myra, and to small-town piano teachers everywhere, I dedicate this blog, and welcome your comments and suggestions.
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