Dear List, It is interesting to see the range of responses this thread has inspired. Being a recipient of a copy of Horace's excellent letter to the reviewer, I am looking forward to his sharing his letter with the list. Tempted as I am to share some details, I will content myself to say that Horace discusses in some detail his perception of the present day loss of the skills of fine action set up, regulation, and voicing--skills which he learned from past masters. Horace apparently deduces from the wording of the reviewer that the piano was not properly prepared. This may very well be true; however, I posted Horace an account of my experience preparing a piano for Kissin a year ago. Kissin's management had reserved every available moment in the hall during the day preceding and day of the recital, and he, with the guidance of his teacher, worked tirelessly and relentlessly during the entire 12 hours at an intense concert level with a heavy Russian program--right up to curtain time. Despite my gentle attempts to gain access to the piano for touch up, Kissin, while remaining courteous, dismissed me with the assurance that everything was okay. Clearly, it meant more to Kissin and his teacher to have the rehearsal time, than for me to have time to refine the tuning and voicing. The local reviewer commented that the instrument's sound became harsh at times during the many big climaxes. For my part, I was elated that the piano stood in tune and sounded as good as it did despite the heavy use and deficient prep time. Furthermore, unlike the Davies Hall piano in Horace's speculations, I flatter myself that this instrument was properly set up, was regulated properly, and that the hammers had the appropriate shape and resiliency. Horace, in his letter, also shares his insights into Kissin's technique and the acoustics of Davies Hall. There are also a host of other factors that go into a performance--factors which those of us who are frequently backstage observe from a perspective denied to the public and the critic. I recently read an account of a late Caruso performance, written by his late son, in which he recalled his anguish at the unkindness of the public and critics toward shortcomings in his father's delivery and stage presence, knowing that they had no idea of the pain, both mental and physical, with which his father performed in his last days, and the professionalism and sense of responsibility that lead him to go on stage even though he was really, unbeknownst to him, probably in the latter stages of lung cancer. So what conclusions may we reach from all this? Basically that, quite properly, "everyone is a critic", but that the conclusions we reach and the judgments that we make really often say more about us than about the actual situation, about which we rarely have sufficient information to make fully informed judgments. Was the performance truly flawed? Is Davies Hall really acoustically deficient? Was the instrument really inexpertly prepared? Is Kissin's technique really flawed? Did he misjudge the limits of the instrument? Certainly there are objective criteria upon which one can base such judgments; however, criticism is most incisive and persuasive when tempered with humility and compassion. I believe that Horace's letter could stimulate an excellent discussion about concert preparation techniques of today, contrasted with those of the halcyon days of yore. Charles Charles Ball, RPT School of Music University of Texas at Austin ckball@mail.utexas.edu
This PTG archive page provided courtesy of Moy Piano Service, LLC