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| The weird, barbaric looking master and magician
of the piano-forte, with his immense mass of hair and awkward
movement, without a smile, or any sign of consciousness apparently
of aught beside the single purpose of his music, and with a
look upon his face as of one eaten up by the intensity of a
life long absorption in his art, as if all the expression had
struck inward, and what you saw was but the lifeless simulacrum
of the man, approached his instrument, courteous to his audience
if not gracious, amid applause which was but the forerunner
of the outbursts that were to follow. |
| Dwight's Journal of
Music 32 (19 October 1872): 326 |
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| He had none of the courtly graces to which
we have been so accustomed in artists in the concert- room.
There was none of that preliminary coquetry with the audience,
no provokingly slow removal of kid gloves, no rubbing of the
hands, no restless arrangement of the piano stool, elaborate
dabbing of the brow with a spotless white handkerchief, which
are the introductory ceremonies peculiar to soloists in general.
But the awkward bowing over, he sat down at once, resolutely,
and became at once absorbed in the work he had in hand. Whatever
success he had met with, and it had been unbounded, he owes
to the sheer force of his genius, for his manner is quite unattractive,
and his appearance does not give the slightest token of that
wealth of poetry and sentiment that burns within him. |
Boston Globe,
quoted in The Song Messenger 10 (November 1872):
177
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| No one could help seeing the complete command
he had over the instrument or could fail to observe how he seemed
to become a part of it, forgetting almost that there was anything
else in the world save himself and the Steinway Grand before
him. Even his salute, when he was applauded, was not paid to
the audience but to the instrument. |
Elmira (N.Y.) Daily
Advertiser (23 November 1872), 4:2 |
|
Rubinstein
on Repertoire |
|
When scheduled to perform at a Sunday evening concert with
the Ninth Regiment Band, Rubinstein saw the program that afternoon
on which appeared a couple of Strauss waltzes. He then, according
to his manager, Maurice Grau, "refused absolutely to
play," while Grau implored, argued, entreated, and threatened.
Finally, the offending items had to be manually blotted out
before Rubinstein would play. After the concert Rubinstein
told Grau, "I never regretted so much being a poor man.
Had I had the money I would have paid you the $40,000 forfeit
and would have gone straight back to Europe."
Rubinstein's disapproval of the preaching of Henry Ward Beecher,
the most famous clergyman of his day, illustrates his purist
view toward musical taste. "Mr. Beecher tries to bring
religion down to the people instead of bringing the people
to religion," complained Rubinstein. But a music journal
countered: "Supposing a man was overboard, what would
Mr. Rubinstein do—throw a rope to the person in peril,
or call upon him to come after the rope?" |
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A Bach
Triple Concerto |
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An unusual departure from Rubinstein's repertoire of romantic
concertos was a performance of the Bach triple concerto in
D Minor in New York with William Mason and the English-born,
American-based Sebastian Bach Mills with Theodore Thomas conducting.
Mason had performed the work several times, including once
under Liszt's supervision, and was concerned about the authentic
rendering of the ornamentation. Knowing that Rubinstein was
"not precise in historical methods," Mason showed
Rubinstein his copy of Friedrich Wilhelm Marpurg's Anleitung
zum Clavierspielen (2d ed., 1765) that explained the
correct execution of the mordents. Ignoring historical evidence,
Rubinstein exclaimed: "All wrong; here is the way I play
it," and demonstrated on the piano more of a turn or
double mordent. The other two pianists followed Rubinstein's
example without argument. The Arcadian praised their
sense of ensemble and believed that most listeners were relieved
that the piece was not "dry and uninteresting" as
they had assumed it would be, but was "bright, cheerful,
and not to an oppressive degree involved." The audience,
in fact, responded wildly and recalled the performers four
times, although the Times contended that the reception
was not due to the work or the performance but the audience's
desire to see yet again the trio of performers (who resembled
an "enlarged edition" of Siamese twins) for the
"agreeable historical remembrance." |
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| Recordings of Rubinstein's music are
currently available on the following labels: |
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Danacord
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Hyperion
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Naxos
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