Venue(s):
Steinway Hall
Conductor(s):
Theodore Thomas [see also Thomas Orchestra]
Price: $1.50; $2-3 reserved seat
Performance Forces:
Instrumental
Status:
Published
Last Updated:
29 November 2024
“The combination of Rubinstein, Wieniawski, and Theodore Thomas, at Steinway Hall, resulted last night in one of the most superb concerts that we have heard for many seasons. It was a concert in which every piece was magnificently interpreted. To say that everything was excellent would not be praise enough, for everything was beyond the ordinary standards of merit. The programme was as follows [see above].
We have written so lately and so fully of Mr. Thomas’s magnificent orchestra that we may spare ourselves elaborate encomiums upon their work on this occasion. Cherubini’s beautiful overture, Liszt’s poem, with its varying moods of melancholy romance and glowing passion, and the stirring strains and gorgeous tone-coloring of Wagner’s ‘Homage March’ were rendered with all that perfection of ensemble, unity of feeling, and vigor of spirit which we have now learned to expect from Theodore Thomas’s band. In the accompaniments also they gave such support as the pianist and violinst have never enjoyed before in this country. Mr. Rubinstein’s G major Concerto displays the great pianist’s most remarkable characteristics both as a composer and an executant. It is written with his habitual respect for classical forms, yet with his free and brilliant style; is rich in melody and delicate in sentiment, especially in the second movement (andante), and rises in the finale to one of those astonishing climaxes with which this Russian genius arouses his audiences. We have rarely heard Rubinstein in a more glorious temper. He is always great; but last night he displayed even more brilliantly than usual the many sides of his greatness, reminding us that there is no manifestation of the pianist’s art in which he cannot excel all artists whom we have ever heard. In Schumann’s eccentric and beautiful group of [illegible], known as ‘Kreisleriana,’ as well as the three exquisite and strongly contrasted pieces by Chopin, he was again at his best.
Mr. Wieniawski, who is not merely a phenomenal performer but a true artist, gave an elegant and sympathetic rendering of the first movement of Beethoven’s violin concerto, with a brillian cadenza of his own. He played also with the orchestra a fine Adagio of Rubinstein’s and a Polonaise of his own, which has been heard here before. The audience was a very good one, and very enthusiastic, calling out Mr. Thomas after the ‘Tasso,’ and lavishing upon the other principal artists the heartiest applause. There were many vacant seats, to be sure; but considering the terrible weather the attendance might be called gratifying.”
“A brief series of concerts by Messrs. Rubinstein and Wieniawski and Mr. Thomas’ orchestra, was commenced at Steinway Hall, last evening, in presence of an assemblage remarkably numerous, if the condition of the streets is taken into consideration. It is rather late in the day to look for fresh comments upon the performances of either of the soloists, or upon those of the admirable band formed and directed by Mr. Thomas. We may, therefore, confine ourselves to saying that Mr. Rubinstein was, last night, as indefatigable as ever, and with as good results, in respect alike of attention—even throughout so interminable and meaningless a composition as Schumann’s ‘Kreisleriana’—and of applause. In addition to the number mentioned, the pianist contributed to the entertainment his concerto in G major, consisting of three movements, and three pieces by Chopin, for the recital of whose music we should prefer a less Titanic artist. Mr. Wieniawski’s playing was less accurate than usual, and his delivery of the first movement of Beethoven’s violin concerto was by no means faultless. We cannot, either, commend unreservedly Mr. Wieniawski’s cadenza, which is hardly in the spirit of the parent work. In his own polonaise, by command of technique and an unfettered style, the gentleman achieved, of course, an immediate triumph, while the eloquence and purity of his tone made the adagio, selected from a violin concerto by Mr. Rubinstein, as effective as could be wished. Mr. Thomas’ orchestra supplied accompaniments of unimpeachable discretion, and superb renderings of the fine overture to Cherubini’s ‘Water Carrier;’ of Liszt’s richly-colored symphonic poem called ‘Torquato Tasso;’ and of Wagner’s impressive ‘Huldigung’s Marsch.’”
The combination formed by the concert companies of Thomas and Rubinstein is an event of unusual significance in musical art. Three of the principal means through which music finds its most direct and earnest expression are the orchestra, the pianoforte, and the violin.
The present combination gives us the best attainable expression that art finds through these three channels. In Mr. Thomas’s orchestra we have a body of musicians knit together by constant association and practice, and so completely of one mind with each other, and so responsive to the slightest hint from their conductor, that there is in their playing a unity and intelligence such as we look for in vain in any other similar organization.
That the piano reveals itself more fully in all its varied powers under the hands of Mr. Rubinstein than under those of any other pianist who has ever played it here is a matter of opinion on which all those most competent to judge are fully agreed.
As to the violin, though we cannot of course say it finds in Wieniawski its greatest master, yet it can truly be said that he stands in the rank of the first violinists, and is an artist of fine and broad intelligence, and a noble interpreter of classical works.
The results of this happy union of the forces of Thomas and Rubinstein were conspicuous in last evening’s performance.
The following was the programme of concert [see above].
It is not necessary to refer in detail to the performance of the strictly orchestral works. The conspicuous merits of Mr. Thomas’s orchestra have been often enough pointed out and are well understood and appreciated by the public. It was a far easier thing for them to play the Cherubini overture than to accompany the Rubinstein concerto.
That, indeed, was no light task, and the weight fell in great part on their conductor, who needed the utmost tact, alertness, and discretion in the performance of his share of the work. Had Rubinstein been in Russia then Thomas could have had his own ideas about it, but the exacting composer was there at the piano, and his own composition had to go according to his own notions, however capricious.
But Thomas preserved the same easy air of nonchalance that is a distinguishing trait in his leadership. It is a delightful one as well, for a conductor is in general an obtrusive body set up between audience and performers, swinging his arms with a horrid mechanical pertinacity, and thrusting his own unpleasant personality between the hearer and what he is desirous of giving his whole attention to—the music.
It would be a blessed thing if there could be orchestras without conductors, but as that cannot be, the next best thing is that the leader should be unobtrusive in his ways, graceful in his movements, and have his instrumentalists so perfectly en rapport with himself that he can bring them up to the fiercest fortissimo, or lull them to the gentlest pianissimo by the slightest and, to the audience, least appreciable motions.
All these qualities Mr. Thomas has, and they furnish not a little of the charm that attends the performances of his orchestra. It is certain that Rubinstein has never in this city been accompanied with anything like the same sympathy and intelligence as on this occasion. This was especially noticeable in the last movement of his concerto, where a rapid unison passage for the violins and piano—the piano in octaves—was played with the most delicate unity. The effect was a novel and most pleasing one.
The whole concerto is a work of great imagination and power. The first movement has a wild, almost barbaric force, and closes with one of those splendid bursts of power with which Rubinstein so often electrifies his audience. The second movement is tender and full of poetic feeling—a true musical thought not made up for the piano, but set down simply and without adornment, as it came from the author’s heart.
The closing movement again was full of force and often wild and wayward. In all these the orchestra followed the pianist with delightful tact, rising with his mood and subduing itself to a mere breath of melody at those passages where they furnish merely the soft but radiant musical background for the picture brought out in strong relief by the piano.
In the solo pieces, those by Chopin especially, Rubinstein’s playing was most enjoyable. The Ballade he has his own conception of. It by no means agrees with that of many other interpreters, being broader, more didactic, and less poetical.
The longest single piece was the Kreisleriana of Schumann—a work calculated to test to the utmost the appreciative powers of an audience. It consists of eight quite long pieces, and was written when the composer was in love with Clara Wieck and almost hopeless of ever attaining her hand.
In these pieces he gives expression to all the moods and phases of his tormenting passion. It is at once one of his greatest pianoforte works, and one of the most difficult of comprehension to those not truly musical. Kreisler, from whom it takes its name, is the racked and tortured Kapellmeister of Hoffman’s tale.”
“Despite many counteracting influences, and among them the weather, the return of Rubinstein and Wieniawski was hearily welcomed at Steinway Hall last evening, more especially as the performances of those distinguished artists were enhanced by the presence of Thomas’ orchestra. The combination proved a complete and gratifying success, and it is no exaggeration to say that few musical events of the season merit more unqualified praise. After the overture to ‘The Water Carrier’ Mr. Rubinstein made his appearance, amid a storm of applause, and played his own concerto in G major, the finale of which was quite magical in its effect upon the assemblage. He subsequently interpreted Schumann’s fantastic ‘Kreisleriana,’ and a ballad nocturne and scherzo by Chopin, which, it is almost superfluous to add, elicited enthusiastic recognition. It is only necessary to state that Rubinstein played with his characteristic brilliancy and power, and that in conjunction with the orchestra a musical treat was afforded the audience seldom hitherto enjoyed in this city. Herr Wieniawski selected Beethoven’s concerto for the violin, with a cadenza by himself, which met with general favor. He was, if possible, more successful in his rendering of an adagio, by Rubinstein, and a polonaise of his own composition, both of which were performed with a master hand. The concert was altogether exceedingly enjoyable, and not its least prominent feature were the precision and finish of the orchestra. No better proof of its excellence could be presented than the manner in which Liszt’s symphonic poem ‘Tasso’ was played, a fact the audience was not slow to appreciate.”
“Although the last night of the year is not a very favorable time for a fashionable concert, Steinway Hall was fairly filled on Saturday [Tuesday] night, when Rubinstein and Wieniawski were supported by the Thomas orchestra. In this magnificent setting the efforts of the great pianist and the accomplished violinist appeared to unusual advantage. Mr. Rubinstein played his concerto in G major with the orchestra; and without orchestral aid he performed the interminable and uninteresting’Kreisleriana,’ by Schumann, and a few selections from Chopin. Mr. Wieniawski played a movement from a Beethoven concerto, an adagio composed by Rubinstein, and his own Polonaise. Of the orchestral performances the most notable was that of Liszt’s symphonic poem, ‘Tasso,’ a composition replete with brilliant and novel effects, and containing several well-defined melodies.”
“Rubinstein gains upon us steadily, and we are deeply indebted to Mr. Grau for the enterprise he has shown in presenting to us an artist whose immense power and grandeur, together with his delicacy of touch and thoroughly musical sentiment, show him to be the most complete pianist who has ever visited our shores. Rubinstein has no meretricious tricks for display, or special gymnastic feats for the wonder of open-eyed and gaping provincials; but he plays as though he had no ideas except the musical one which he endeavors to express. He is, of course, an unequal performer;--what artist of real genius is not? In the Ballade by Chopin (Op. 23, in G min.) he slurred and blurred to complete indistinctness the Finale, which needs the utmost clearness to mean anything to most ears; and in several instances he simplified the broken double-note passages by making single octaves of them. This was easier for him, no doubt, but it was hardly satisfactory to those who have studied the Ballade until every note is perfectly familiar. In Schumann’s ‘Kreisleriania,’ however, his accuracy was unfailing, and he performed the whole of that magnificent piece or set of pieces, in a style which certainly could not be surpassed by any artist in the world. In the Chopin Scherzo (op. 20, B min.) his tempo was too rapid to give the ordinary amateur any sort of understanding of the composer’s intention; but in playing the lovely Nocturne (op. 27, No. 2, in D flat), he displayed all that exquisite delicacy and neatness of fingering, all that tender grace of expression which are so peculiarly necessary to any one who attempts to interpret the gifted Pole; and it is only just to say that human fingers could not give a more positive rendering of the delicious , dreamy Nocturne. Some years ago I heard Rubinstein play this same composition at a classical concert in London, and it was the prevailing impression then that the author himself had scarcely played it better.
As for Wieniawski,--well, there are violinsts and violinists. Some people like a clear, pure tone; others, apparently, do not. Those who admire scratching and false stopping, together with sundry other things of the same nature would have experienced wild joy upon hearing Beethoven’s Violin Concerto as it was played on the evening in question; but, for those who regard a correct intonation as a thing of primal importance, it could not have been pleasing.[!] Wieniawski, evidently belongs to that school, of which Ole Bull is a prominent member, whose first article of belief is that genuine passion and fervor is signified by rasping the strings. In the days of Corelli roughness of tone may have been unavoidable, but, with the violin-bow as constructed at present, it is a glaring fault in any player.
If my language seems severe, it should be remembered that, while Wieniawski’s merits have been fully acknowledged and discussed, since his appearance in America, no critic has yet, as far as I am aware, ventured to expres what can hardly fail to be the sentiments of a musician with regard to the points above mentioned. [!]”