Relatively late pianistic bloomer though he may have been, when Ignacy Jan Paderewski (1860-1941) performed, audiences went wild. It’s no exaggeration to say that when Paderewski made his international debut in Vienna in 1887 at the age of 27 he became a legend almost overnight. Not since Franz Liszt (1811-1886) had concert-goers seen and heard such a complete, made-for-the-stage package: over-the-top pianistic flamboyance; tremendous stage charisma; striking, movie-star good looks; a head of hair that reminded his admirers of a golden halo; and a composer able to wow audiences with his own music as well as the “classics”. Among the concert-going public, the name “Paderewski” soon became synonymous for supreme pianism.
(Really, how many concert pianists are referenced in popular songs? In 1916, Irving Berlin [Music History Monday, May 11, 2020 and Dr. Bob Prescribes, May 12, 2020] wrote a song entitled I love a Piano which includes these words:
“And with the pedal, I love to meddle, When Paderewski comes this way. I'm so delighted, when I'm invited, To hear that long-haired genius play!”)
The uncritical adoration Paderewski received from the concert-going public was not shared by his fellow professionals. Certainly, some were envious of his success, but in fact no one is more aware of our shortcomings than our fellow professionals, and Paderewski’s fellow pros were, at best, bemused by his reputation. On hearing Paderewski perform in London, Moriz Rosenthal (1862-1946) – one of Liszt’s greatest students – remarked, “Yes, he plays well, I suppose, but he’s no Paderewski.”
The uncritical adoration Paderewski received from the concert-going public was not shared by his fellow professionals. Certainly, some were envious of his success, but in fact no one is more aware of our shortcomings than our fellow professionals, and Paderewski’s fellow pros were, at best, bemused by his reputation. On hearing Paderewski perform in London, Moriz Rosenthal (1862-1946) – one of Liszt’s greatest students – remarked, “Yes, he plays well, I suppose, but he’s no Paderewski.”
(Rosenthal’s is a great line, almost as good as one attributed to Paderewski himself. As the story – likely apocryphal – goes, Paderewski was mistaken by a rich American hostess for being a famous polo player. Paderewski is supposed to have replied, “no, he is a rich soul who plays polo – I am a poor Pole who plays solo.”)
Whatever were Paderewski’s pianistic weaknesses, not since Franz Liszt had a pianist toured so constantly and tirelessly, and no musician between Liszt and Frank Sinatra (1915-1998) had so powerful an impact on women.
The stories are legion. On April 23, 1896, the New York Sun described the scene as Paderewski sailed from New York for Europe:
“As the steamship Teutonic moved majestically out from her pier, there was heard above the blaring of the band, the shouting of the seamen, a high chorus of shrill tones. It was the farewell of Paderewski’s feminine admirers. Previous to this parting chorus, they had mobbed the pianist, pressing around him, shaking his hands, giving him flowers, pestering him for autographs, and begging him in tearful voices to come back again soon.”
A reporter named Alkan Dale attended a Paderewski concert and left us with a description that might just as easily described a bit of Saturnalian Lisztomania from the 1850s:
“There I was, simply girled in. A huge and dominant gynarchy seethed around me. There were girls in shirtwaists of silk and of flannel; there were girls in loose corsets and tight corsets. There were large and bouncing girls, and short and stubby ones. There were girls in hats and girls in bonnets. There were girls who wore wedding rings and girls who didn’t. There were girls . . .” (Okay; we get the picture.)
While his critics counted his wrong notes Paderewski counted his money. No touring musician had ever earned the sort of money Paderewski did, and nowhere did he earn more money than in the United States. He made his American debut on November 17, 1891 at the newly opened Carnegie Hall, where he performed Camille Saint-Saëns Piano Concerto No. 4 and his own Piano Concerto in A minor under the baton of Walter Damrosch (for lots more on Walter Damrosch see Music History Monday for June 22, 2020!). By 1896 Paderewski had made three tours of the United States and netted a profit – profit, according to his manager Hugo Görlitz – of $500,000, the equivalent today of $14,087,582.
To Paderewski’s eternal credit, he was extraordinarily generous with his money. In 1891 he established a fund to encourage and support American-born composers. He created foundation for young musicians across the United States and Europe, including ones at Stanford University, the Paris Conservatory, and the Moscow and Saint Petersburg Conservatories. He underwrote monuments across North America and Europe, including the Liszt Monument in Weimar, the Beethoven Monument in Bonn, the Chopin Monument in Zelazowa Wola (Chopin’s birthplace outside Warsaw), the Debussy Monument in Paris, and the Washington Square Arch in New York City’s Greenwich Village. … Continue reading, and see Dr. Bob’s Prescribed recording, only on Patreon!