• Home
  • The Blogs
  • From the Blogs
  • About Mark Ainley

Monthly Archives: February 2019

A Master’s Voice: Victor Schiøler

February 2

It is truly astounding how some of the most amazing pianists are not as well remembered as some of their colleagues. It is a fact that while many great artists had notable careers, others did not pursue aspirations to tour internationally or record extensively. And yet the names of some very popular performers can easily fade from public consciousness after they die, particularly if their recordings become harder to come by (if any were made at all).

Victor Schiøler, a remarkable pianist whose name I first encountered in the last few years thanks to the internet, was a Danish musician who studied with two of the greatest legends of the piano, had a noteworthy career, and made many recordings. However, it was Schiøler’s own pupil Victor Borge who became the ‘great Dane’ of the piano, known the world over for his brilliant musical comedy, although when playing seriously (which he did on rare occasions), Borge was capable of the most exquisite pianism – no doubt due at least in part to the training he received from Schiøler. The comedian’s fame would eclipse his great teacher’s position as Denmark’s pre-eminent pianist, although Schiøler was quite well-known and very respected internationally in his lifetime, and is still remembered in his native land.

He was born into a musical family on April 7, 1899. His mother Augusta Schiøler was a pianist and her son’s first teacher, and his father was composer and conductor Victor Bendix. After beginning his studies with his mother, the young Victor would train with two of the most revered pianists of the time, among the most admired pupils of the great Leschetizky: Ignaz Friedman and Artur Schnabel. Schiøler’s debut took place in 1914 (he was only 15 years old) and he began touring as a soloist in 1919 – he also worked domestically as a conductor, appearing on the podium for the first time in 1923 and being conductor and musical advisor at the Royal Opera in Copenhagen from 1930 to 1932.

Schiøler toured internationally to great acclaim—America in 1948-49, Africa in 1951, and Indochina and Hong Kong in 1952-53—but his career was not limited to music. In addition to concertizing and recording, he also received a degree in medicine and practiced psychiatry! He had long been interested in medicine but had delayed studying it in order to follow Schnabel’s advice that he give concerts in Germany. When he stopped playing in that country due to Hitler’s ascent to power in 1933, he began the formal study of medicine. He spent the last two years of the War in Sweden, and would not return to Germany until after the War.

By his own admission, Schiøler had ‘a tendency to have too many irons in the fire – irons of the most different kinds.’ In addition to his concert and recording career, obtaining his degree in medicine, and professional psychiatric practice, Schiøler worked in other arenas of the musical scene: he was chairman of a committee to help performing artists with matters of contracts, royalties, and copyright. In his later years, he had a TV program in Denmark called ‘From the World of the Piano,’ and chose to limit his concert activities: as he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his family, he travelled only if his wife and son could accompany him.

He died in 1967, not long before his 68th birthday, leaving behind a significant number of recordings spanning a four-decade period. His first disc dates back to 1924 for the Nordisk Polyphon label – Chopin’s Berceuse and Valse Op.64 No.2 – and in 1925 he made his first record for HMV in England. Over the years he also recorded for Columbia, Sonora, and TONO, with several discs recorded by HMV and many of his performances being issued internationally on Mercury and Capitol.

His 1945 recording of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No.1 on the TONO label would for a time be the best-selling classical record in Denmark. It was apparently the first Danish recording of a piano concerto, but its popularity was largely due to the opening of the work being used in a Barbett razor blade commercial screened at all Danish cinemas around the time, leading the theme to be locally known as the ‘Barbett Concerto.’ (The first record of the 4-disc set sold about ten times as many copies as the entire set as a result of its use in the commercial.)

With several hours of recordings on a variety of international labels under his belt, Schiøler ought to be better known today, and yet with the exception of the release of two double-disc sets on the Danacord label from his home country, he has been largely ignored by the recording industry. All of his performances feature the qualities that are the signs of a truly great pianist: a rich vibrant sonority, a mindfully shaped singing line, attentive balance of harmonic support in lower registers (his chords are also beautifully voiced), rubato coordinated with musical architecture, and refined use of dynamic layering and pedalling. His recordings reveal style and individuality but never at the expense of the music – he seems to have always brought dignified discernment to his interpretations.

This 1929 recording of Schiøler playing two Scarlatti Sonatas arranged by Tausig – the once-popular Pastorale and Capriccio – captures the pianist’s beautifully burnished line in the treble register, precise and even articulation, judicious use of the pedal add an extra sheen to tonal colours, and marvellous sense of rhythm.

A fine example of Schiøler’s unerring good taste is this 1942 recording of Chopin’s famous A-Flat Major Polonaise Op.53, a work that is often delivered with bombast and self-centred virtuosity. In his reading, Schiøler does not shy away from power while emphasizing the nobility of conception and beauty of Chopin’s legendary work. What a full-bodied sonority, incisive rhythmic pulse, and transparent textures! Note how the bass sings through with great presence yet without obscuring the content of upper registers… superb!

Schiøler’s 1951 HMV recording of Liszt’s Piano Concerto No.1 (available on the first Danacord retrospective) features the same tasteful but thrilling playing, the Danish pianist’s sumptuous sonority, refined dynamic layers, and elegant phrasing all serving the musical content while still delivering excitement where the score calls for it.

Schiøler’s approach to the classical repertoire is no less mesmerizing, his glorious recording of Beethoven’s Sonata in C Minor Op.111 being a particularly fine example of his refined and noble artistry. His majestic phrasing, varied tonal palette, subtle nuancing, and magnificent voicing are a wonder to behold: particularly appealing is his manner of letting the bass sonority sing loudly without being brash or overpowering, without ever obscuring the melodic content (as is the case in the Chopin Polonaise featured above).

This film footage of Hansen from Danish television is a wonderful opportunity to see the pianist in action – and to hear him speak (all the better if you understand Danish). In this tribute to Schubert, the pianist first accompanies singer Ib Hansen in a reading of Der Wanderer before giving a brief lecture and launching into his own performance of Schubert’s Wanderer-Fantasie. Throughout, Schiøler demonstrates the same attention to tonal beauty, clarity of articulation, poised voicing, and fluidity of phrasing that characterizes all of his recorded performances.

The latest double-disc set from Danacord includes the pianist’s glorious 1956 traversal of Schumann’s Carnaval, a magnificent reading that captures to perfection the composition’s varied moods, with his long singing line, poised voicing, rhythmic bite, and marvellously proportioned rubato.

 

While it is a shame that Schiøler is not as lionized as many of his contemporaries, we are fortunate that at least some of his recordings are available on CD and via YouTube, and one hopes that a complete reissue of this fine artist’s performances will one day be produced. He is most certainly an artist worth hearing again and again in his many hours of recordings, all demonstrating truly intelligent, insightful, inspired pianism.

 

Ignaz Friedman, Romantic Pianist Extraordinaire

February 2

The great Polish pianist Ignaz Friedman was born on this day in 1882. The highly individual interpreter was largely ignored by recording companies after his death in 1948: Columbia never issued a single LP (or CD) containing any of several hours’ worth of 78rpm discs he produced for the label. I first read about the artist in Harold C Schonberg’s classic tome The Great Pianists in the mid-1980s, when I first got into historical recordings, and dreamed of finding the Nocturne in E-Flat Op.55 No.2 that he wrote so poetically about; I would have to wait until Schonberg himself gave a lecture in my home town of Montreal in 1988 and played the performance… and naturally, nothing was the same thereafter. I soon after finally found a second-hand LP produced by Allan Evans containing some of the pianist’s legendary Chopin recordings… and eventually his discography would be issued with Evans’ diligence, on LP with Danacord and on CD with Pearl, with subsequent issues by a variety of companies, including Evans’ own Arbiter label.

One particularly remarkable Friedman memory is when I first visited Bryan Crimp, founder of the APR label, in May 1990. We went into his studio, which had massive speakers, and one of the discs we listened to was a transfer he had made of Friedman’s glorious reading of Chopin’s Impromptu No.2. I’ll never forget the experience of my body being awash in the waves of sound featuring that glorious tone, soaring phrasing, and magical pedal effects – truly an incredible experience.

Friedman’s playing is not for the faint of heart, particularly as the conception of Romanticism these days is much more sanitized than things actually were during that era and those that immediately followed it. The Polish pianist’s pianism is bold and impetuous, quixotic and evocative, individual in a way that can be startling to some listeners today… but truly today’s pianists are by and large individual in a much more self-centred way than was Friedman, despite the stated intention of respecting the score. When Friedman stretches a phrase, he is not just adjusting the timing but also the dynamic shading, tonal colour, and auric quality (via the pedal and touch), as well as its relationship with harmonic and other melodic elements – but modern ears tend to hear things along a single plane and not this multi-dimensional shift.

Particularly remarkable are Friedman’s legendary traversal of Chopin Mazurkas, which feature a rhythmic pulse and accenting that are completely different from the norm. Yet Friedman actually danced this folk song as a child in his native country, and Chopin was known to have insisted on particular accenting in mazurkas: Schonberg writes of an incident when Meyerbeer visited Chopin and the two ended up in a disagreement of the rhythmic element of his mazurkas, Meyerbeer saying he was playing it 2/4 and Chopin insisting it was 3/4. To those who find Friedman’s readings unsettling, it is worth considering: is there any guarantee that if by some miracle a recording of Chopin was found we would like it? And if not, what does that suggest about our tastes and preferences, when musicians and music lovers today speak so strongly about the need to respect the composer’s wishes and the score?

Here is an hour and twenty minutes of Friedman playing Chopin, including that amazing Impromptu and Nocturne, and those hair-raising (and eyebrow-raising) Mazurkas. I’m not saying everyone needs to love or even like these recordings – but it is worth listening multiple times, recognizing whatever inclination you might have towards a certain style (and *why)… and listening again with fresher ears. There is magic to be found here, and questions to sit with, even if there is no real answer.

Recent Posts
  • Josef Lhévinne at 150
  • Josef Lhévinne at 150
  • Marguerite Long at 150
  • Marguerite Long at 150
  • Notes for Piano Library: Westminster & American Decca on Eloquence
Recent Comments
    Archives
    • December 2024
    • November 2024
    • September 2024
    • July 2024
    • May 2024
    • October 2023
    • September 2023
    • August 2021
    • July 2021
    • May 2021
    • April 2021
    • March 2021
    • February 2021
    • January 2021
    • December 2020
    • November 2020
    • October 2020
    • September 2020
    • August 2020
    • June 2020
    • May 2020
    • April 2020
    • March 2020
    • February 2020
    • January 2020
    • December 2019
    • November 2019
    • October 2019
    • September 2019
    • July 2019
    • June 2019
    • April 2019
    • March 2019
    • February 2019
    • January 2019
    • November 2018
    • October 2018
    • August 2018
    • July 2018
    • June 2018
    • May 2018
    • April 2018
    • March 2018
    • February 2018
    • January 2018
    • November 2017
    • September 2017
    • August 2017
    • July 2017
    • May 2017
    • February 2017
    • September 2016
    • July 2016
    • May 2016
    • October 2015
    • August 2015
    • May 2015
    • September 2014
    • August 2014
    • December 2013
    • November 2013
    • October 2013
    • September 2013
    • July 2013
    • June 2013
    • May 2013
    • April 2013
    • March 2013
    • February 2013
    • January 2013
    • December 2012
    • October 2012
    • September 2012
    • July 2012
    • April 2012
    • February 2012
    • September 2011
    • July 2011
    Categories
    • Dinu Lipatti
    • Sense of Space
    • The Piano Files
    Meta
    • Log in
    • Entries feed
    • Comments feed
    • WordPress.org
    © 2014 | Theme Luxe