There’s the Tennessee Waltz and there’s Johann Strauss's Blue Danube Waltz. There’s the Beer Barrel Polka and then there's Rachmaninoff’s Italian Polka, which I blogged about the other day when I was gushing over Vacheslav Gryaznov’s arrangement and performance of it. Different strokes for different folks, we say, when we're trying not to look like snobs, and making subjective quality judgments about where any given cultural product lies on the spectrum between art and kitsch. But that's only one dimension. It's the distinction we generally make when the line is between popular culture and a level of engagement which takes cultivation. There's also the quality of performance of any given piece by different artists, where we're more likely to be talking about differences in taste than in quality.
I was especially taken by Gryaznov’s performance, and the reminder of how much real talent pops up when and where you least expect it. Forgive my prejudice here, but I knew nothing of this marvel called the “Grand Piano Series” held at the Vanderbilt Presbyterian Church in Naples, Florida. I can’t help it; I’ve just got to add, “of all places.” But that's me, forgetting that if we can do great things in Berkeley, California, why shouldn't they be able to do great things in Naples, Florida?
I remember when I first learned about the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra with its wonderful chorus and musical director. They are based in San Francisco, but they give (used to give - before the pandemic) regular concerts at the Congregational Church in Berkeley, among other outlying places, a 10-15 minute walk from my house. Taku and I became subscribers and for years had seats in the second row of the balcony. Happy times. And a great reminder that world class artists are sometimes accessible if you just keep your eyes and ears open for when they come to town and you set aside a few shekels for the events.
The same thing is true for the incredibly broad array of music available on YouTube. I know. I’m becoming a broken record with my rave endorsements of YouTube, but they have kept me sane in this time of lockdown, and I can’t show enough gratitude.
One activity I love to engage in that was not possible until recently is tracking down a piece of music that captures my fancy, and then watching that same piece of music sung or played by any number of artists.
Many people don’t realize that classical music is not holy writ. There is perhaps an original transcription by the composer. But in many cases there are numerous versions by professional arrangers and transcribers, sometimes with cadenzas added and great liberties taken. Slava Gryaznov's transcriptions are but one example. He took this wonderful Italian Polka by Rachmaninoff - the kind of tune that, once I've heard it, refuses to stop spinning around in my head for days or weeks - and added a flair that many now use for their own public performances. Go to YouTube and type in “arranged by Gryaznov” and you’ll see what I mean. They go on for days.
And he’s not the only transcriber/arranger to have at Rachmaninoff’s Italian Polka. There are two others, both arguably with even more razzmatazz. One of these is the wild and crazy Arkady Arkadievich Volodos. Yes, another of those magnificent Russian artists with an Olympic athlete's proficiency level at the keyboard. You want to cringe at the dissonance and bombast, but you also want to jump to your feet and shout, “Bravo!”
And, pièce de résistance for me is Vladimir Horowitz’s version, if anything even more stunning. Here’s Horowitz playing Rachmaninoff’s Italian Polka, I believe as an encore, at his memorable return to Russia concert in 1986. Horowitz left the USSR in 1925 and didn’t go back for sixty-one years. When he did he was welcomed as a conquering hero. People mobbed him, men and women sobbed openly at his performance at the Moscow Tchaikovsky Conservatory concert, some had camped out all night to get a ticket, two hundred non-ticket holders forced their way in, and they just wouldn’t let him leave the stage, even after three encores and an eight-minute standing ovation. He finally had to beg off.
Watch his performance of the Italian Polka to get a feel for his talent and skill and for that audience’s adoration.
And if that makes you want to watch a documentary on that trip, it’s available here.
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