Artur Rubinstein (1887–1982)

Fascinating story of Rubenstein's early life, beginning with his earliest recollections and ending (rather abruptly) in the middle of World War I. It's a little hard to believe that after 50 or 60 years he could remember everyone's name (and even the food he ate!). By the end of the book, not yet 30, he has played for kings and queens, met artists and composers, lots of rich people traveled throughout Europe, to America, and to Argentina, made dozens of lifelong friends, and slept with about show more half the women he meets (mother AND daughter in one case - but not at the same time). There is of course quite a bit about his early piano studies and concert career as well, but this is not a book to learn about his approach to playing the piano. He does admit to using the pedal to cover up the difficult passages when he hadn't studied or practiced long enough, but as a performer, he still seems to have won over just about everyone he met.

Reading this books makes you realize how alive classical music was in those days -- Saint Saens, Rachmaninoff, and others were not long-dead composers, they were living men writing works that contemporary audiences loved to hear. We also get firsthand accounts of famous pianists of the era--Busoni and Godowsky among them. Rubenstein knew them all.

But, as I said, this isn't really so much a book about music. The true joy of this book is discovering turn-of-the-century Berlin, Paris, London, Rome, New York, and a score of other places through the eyes of this remarkably intelligent man. It is also interesting to read about the many rich people he encountered, their sponsorship of him (he could go months without buying a meal for himself it seems, and he spent nearly every summer with one or another of them.) He brings the era to life as well as anyone I have ever read.

Highly highly recommended. The last two biographies or autobiographies I read were of Warren Zevon and Errol Flynn -- but of the three, Rubenstein's is the only life I would have liked to have led. There is a second volume to this, called My Many Years. I will definitely track it down. show less

Rubinstein so often reports the piece was a success in concert from the very earliest part of this career, that I was prompted to find this recording of him performing the Saint-Saëns Piano Concerto No 2 in G minor to see about it, and indeed full of exploitable dynamics I can see why this piece would win over even reluctant audiences. Rubinstein is as much an evangelist for Brahms and this long, elaborate, adventurous Grand Tour of a performance career. Now, I think of that and listen more show more closely whenever I see "Brahms" shows on the data display on my radio when I have Sirius XM "Symphony Hall" tune in.

This is a dense and breathless telling of the young man's accidental discovery of this ability and lurching early career, on up to World War I. Along the way, he recounts all the elite and low-lifes he met, including casual dalliances with young ladies inside and outside of bordellos. (The ease of relating these sexual adventures is rather intriguing considering a life in high art, but then it was a popular art and Arthur was, really, a pop start on the road.)

Among the luminaries and characters met and described here are German pianist Heinrich Barth, Ludwig Bösendorfer himself (piano manufacturers figure in often as agents behind recital arrangements as they seek talent to showcase their often shoddy wares), Pablo Casals (a miserly anarchist here), Lina Cavalieri of My Secrets of Beauty and Arthur's pin-up girl, Russian basso and roué Feodor Chaliapin, the tragic and talented toper and gambler Paul Draper and his powerhouse wife Muriel, the original Englebert Humperdinck, various royalty, Jenny Lind, Lydia Lopoukhava future wife to John Maynard Keynes, cameo by a sullen John Reed, his best Karol Szymanowski, the Tchaikovsky brothers, and much more.

The final chapters covering World War II are fascinating for depictions of life during wartime in a vacant Paris, crowded London, and neutral Spain. At the beginning, we read of a Poland largely subsumed by its neighbors and a tense Europe were even well-attended concerts do not make it easy for a performer to obtain passports without subterfuge. show less

I really love to listen to Rubinstein recordings. He is a pianist who has never let me down. This is in regard to his touch and feeling for playing the piano without pounding the hell out of it. Some piano players want to be so loud--and indeed sometimes the music and the composer call for it--that they start to let loose with excessive force and end up hurting your ears. I think Rubinstein had a touch that was elastic and deft enough to still be powerful when the music called for it, but show more without getting into the brittle and painful tone produced by playing with iron fists.
Anyway, this is supposed to be a review of the book, not about his playing.
I have really enjoyed reading this and other books by artists who started in the late part of the 19th century or in the early part of the 20th century. Yes, the First World War was a massive shock and things were never the same afterward, but these artists seem to have enjoyed treating their audiences to a performance experience that was slightly different somehow than compared to later years after recording and radio and movies changed everything. Of course, Rubinstein, like everyone else, participated in these new industries. But I like to read his comments about wrong notes and am reassured by his comment that this is not the most important thing--the most important thing is getting the feeling right. In our era, we should still try for note perfect, but I for one have been discouraged when I hear sloppy recording engineers who have edited performances and even my ears can hear where the splice--I know tape is not spliced anymore, but same thing--is grossly audible, because the mic level or the ambient reverb was different on different recording days, or the tempo of the splice is different. Never get a click track involved in classical music, but please, I do not mind if it is a one take performance.
Great anecdotes. He was a rascal and had a good time. He did not always practice as much as he should have, but he still got by. show less

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