Rubinstein Matinee Recital: 1st

Event Information

Venue(s):
Steinway Hall

Manager / Director:
Maurice Grau

Price: $1; $2, reserved seat

Event Type:
Chamber (includes Solo)

Record Information

Status:
Published

Last Updated:
18 February 2025

Performance Date(s) and Time(s)

12 May 1873, 2:30 PM

Performers and/or Works Performed

3)
aka Chromatic fantasy and fugue, BWV 903
Composer(s): Bach
4)
Composer(s): Bach
6)
aka Harmonious blacksmith; Harmonische Grobschmied; Forgeron harmonieux
Composer(s): Handel
7)
Composer(s): Haydn
8)
aka Cat's fugue; Katzenfuge
Composer(s): Scarlatti
9)
Composer(s): Scarlatti
10)
Composer(s): Mozart
11)
Composer(s): Mozart
12)
aka Alla turca; Türkischer Marsch; Turkish March; Allegretto in A minor
Composer(s): Mozart

Citations

1)
Announcement: New-York Daily Tribune, 01 May 1873, 5.
2)
Announcement: New York Post, 02 May 1873, 2.
3)
Advertisement: New York Herald, 02 May 1873, 14.

Includes programs for all seven recitals.

4)
Announcement: New York Herald, 06 May 1873, 6.
5)
Announcement: New York Sun, 09 May 1873, 2.
6)
Announcement: New York Post, 09 May 1873, 2.
7)
Advertisement: New-York Times, 11 May 1873, 7.
8)
Review: New-York Daily Tribune, 13 May 1873, 5.

“Mr. Rubinstein began yesterday afternoon, at Steinway Hall, the series of seven piano-forte recitals, in which he proposes giving a synopsis of the history of piano-forte music from the time of Johann Sebastian Bach to the present day. The task which he has set himself would overtax the powers of almost any other artist. The performer is required to copy styles the most diverse, to fall in with fashions the most strongly contrasted, to sympathize with many various manifestations of genius, and to accommodate himself to the changing forms of an art which has been almost revolutionized during the period which he has undertaken to illustrate. His remarkable enterprise has aroused great interest in musical circles, but it seems to be imperfectly appreciated by the general public. The large hall, yesterday, at Steinway’s, was only about one third filled. Perhaps this small audience was owing to the fact that the first programme was devoted to those ancient fathers of piano-forte music—Bach, Handel, and their immediate successors, whom uncultivated modern audiences deride as dry and formal. But they are not dry when they are interpreted by an accomplished and a sympathetic player, as they were yesterday. Nothing could surpass the freshness and brilliancy of the two or three Preludes and Fugues from J. S. Bach’s ‘Well-tempered Clavichord’—the foundation of the science of piano playing—with which the concert opened. Then Mr. Rubinstein played a delightful Gigue by the same composer—a jig such as a giant might have danced—and the ‘Chromatic Fantasia’ with its tremendous fugue, this last being one of the finest exhibitions of the pianist’s power we have ever enjoyed. Rubinstein has a thorough appreciation of the stately dignity of the older classical masters, and though his impetuosity carried him away sometimes, and the elegant formality of the composer is occasionally lost in the magnificent torrent that flows from his fingers, this exuberance is generally restrained, and is never a very serious blemish. One specimen was given from Carl Emanuel Bach, the son of Sebastian—a beautiful Rondo, very graceful and poetic—and then came three or four selections from Handel, including the ‘Harmonious Blacksmith’ (air and variations in E major), and a beautiful Air and Variations in D minor, followed by and Andante and Variations of Haydn’s. All these were delightfully rendered. Equally good—perhaps even better—was the ‘Cat’s Fugue’ of Domenico Scarlatti, a composition which derives its name from the circumstance that a cat jumping on the keys of the master’s instrument struck the notes which he wove into his theme. It is an excellent specimen of the best school of harpsichord writing, quiet, graceful, and highly finished. The sonata by the same composer, which followed it on the programme, is not a sonata in the modern sense of the word, for it has only one movement. The concert closed with Mozart, whom Mr. Rubinstein seemed to approach with more loving sympathy than any of his other composers, and to interpret with more fidelity than any other except perhaps Sebastian Bach. He chose from the works of this immortal genius the exquisite Fantasia in C minor, and the stirring movement alla Turca from the sonata in A major.”

9)
Review: New York Post, 13 May 1873, 2.

“Steinway Hall was crowded yesterday afternoon by an audience of piano-forte students, professional musicians and lady amateurs—all intent on hearing Rubinstein’s interpretation of specimens of the earlier school of piano-forte music. The works of the Bachs, of Scarlatti, of Handel, of Haydn and Mozart served to illustrate the musical period to which this singular and interesting concert was devoted, and in all the great selections performed the great Russian pianist seemed to be equally at home. Much of the quaint, old-fashioned music was new to the listeners; and some of it was tedious to ears accustomed to the more elaborate compositions of modern times. The ‘Cat fugue’ of Scarlatti and the selections from Mozart appeared to give the most satisfaction to the audience, though a ‘gigue’ of one of the older composers also attracted much attention. The matinée was certainly a unique affair, and showed what a thorough student Rubinstein has been.”

10)
Review: New York Herald, 13 May 1873, 6.

“Yesterday afternoon, at Steinway Hall, before a very large audience—principally composed of ladies—the great Russian pianist commenced a series of farewell recitals of such a gigantic character as regards the multiplicity and variety of the selections that he seems determined to leave the impress of his genius on the memory of the American public in imperishable lines. For two hours the wonderful virtuoso brought the audience back to the days of Bach, Handel, Scarlatti and Mozart, and held them by the vividness of his illustrations until the close of a performance which, in less experienced hands, would prove intolerable. First came a shoal of preludes and fugues from ‘Le Clavecin bien temperé,’ and for a time it seemed as if he would go through the entire forty-eight numbers of the series. Next followed a lively ‘gigue,’ which would set an ‘Arrah-na-pogue’s’ head crazy, and the famous chromatic fantasia, the bugbear of many an eminent performer. Passing from the works of the great Bach to those of his scarcely less accomplished son, Philip Emmanuel, the pianist gave a rondo by the latter, who first conceived the idea of making the harpsichord sing. Then the colossus of choral music was introduced as a piano writer. Handel’s air and variations in D minor, a gigue and air and variations in D minor, a gigue and air and variations in E major, gave an intelligible idea of the style of one who was as renowned a performer on the harpsichord as on the organ. Old Father Haydn was represented by a delightful ‘Andante’ with variations. Then came the real creator of the advanced school of the harpsichord, Domenico Scarlatti, the man who first broke through old established rules to produce new and bold effects. The cat’s fugue and a sonata represented Scarlatti. Mozart closed the honored line of old masters with a fantasia in C minor, a gigue, a rondo, and an oriental waif from the A major sonata. With the immortal composer of ‘Don Giovanni’ piano music assumed a new form, and the fertility of his genius was shown no less in this direction than in his orchestral and vocal works.”

11)
Review: Dwight's Journal of Music, 14 June 1873, 39.

“The first of these unique recitals took place on Monday afternoon, May 12, and was devoted entirely to the old masters of harmony. The pianist began with three preludes and fugues from the ‘Well-tempered Clavichord,’ of J. S. Bach, followed by a Gigue and the ‘Chromatic Fantasia’ by the same composer. Phillip Emanuel Bach was represented by a graceful Rondo; and Handel by the ‘Harmonious Blacksmith’ and an air and variations in D minor. Then came an Andante and Variations by Haydn, and Scarlatti’s ‘Cat’s fugue’ (suggested to the composer by the notes struck by a cat which jumped upon the keys of his Harpsichord, and not, as many people appear to suppose, in imitation of the feline vocalism which soothes our drowsy senses at the midnight hour.) The artist also played a ‘Sonata’ by the same composer; but why it should be called a Sonata, when it consists of one movement only, is more than I can imagine.”