Rubinstein Recital

Includes programs for all seven recitals.

Includes program.

“With the interesting performance announced for this evening, when the programme will consist exclusively of his own compositions, Mr. Rubinstein will bring to a close his professional engagements in this country, having devised for his farewell work a series of concerts so unique and admirable as to be without a parallel in our musical history. Piano recitals are not without precedent, it is true, but never before has one pianist undertaken to give in our largest music halls a series of seven concerts, in which the progress of the piano-forte from the days of Handel should be fully and effectively illustrated. Mr. Rubinstein has accomplished this remarkable feat, and without any attraction save himself has succeeded in bringing to Steinway Hall audiences as large as those which usually attend orchestral or vocal concerts of the highest order. When the programmes were devoted to the almost obsolete works of the older masters, the interest of the musical public was but imperfectly aroused. The performance of Beethoven’s sonatas, however, drew a large and very critical band of listeners. The music of Mendelssohn and Weber also proved attractive, and the delicate fancies of Chopin found many admirers. When, however, the pianist played the brilliant works of Liszt and Thalberg, and fairly entered the arena of the popular music of the day, the enthusiasm was prodigious. Steinway Hall was crowded to excess by the ladies of the metropolis, and it is safe to say that the audience of Tuesday afternoon contained most of the cultured amateur players of the American metropolis. Many of these had heard the same compositions played by Thalberg himself, by Mills, by Mason, by Gottschalk, by Satter, by De Meyer, Krebs and Mehlig, and they were prepared to listen with the keenest attention, and with a degree of critical judgment not usually characterizing a matinee audience. As a general thing the great pianist passed successfully through this ordeal. He does not possess the exquisite finish, the pure perfection of Thalberg’s marvelous manipulation, but he interpreted that composer’s works in a brilliant and effective manner. He appeared to be more at home amid the fearful difficulties with which Liszt has invested his piano-forte compositions, and his fair auditors went away lost in admiration of his powers.

As a specimen of the possibilities of the mnemonic faculties, Rubinstein’s series of concerts is well calculated to awaken astonishment. Every piece of the eighty or more which he included in his programmes he played without notes, though several of them—such, for instance, as the fugues by Bach and the long Beethoven sonatas—were, either from their intricacy or their length, especially difficult to remember. Yet Rubinstein was never for a moment perturbed, and sonata, fugue, nocturne, fantasia, flowed from his fingers with unfaltering ease. Of course, this power of memory is to a great extent a natural gift, and does not necessarily accompany the highest order of genius; but it is well worthy of notice, and proves that Rubinstein must have been a most earnest student.

This great artist has also given to the American public a specimen of his ability as a conductor, while his merits as a composer have been shown in his ‘Ocean Symphony’ and in several of his piano-forte sonatas and etudes. To-night, with a magnificent egotism which is, however, the justifiable prerogative of genius, he will perform a number of his own works. The occasion will be one of special interest to the musical community. There are those who, basing their opinion on their familiarity with his oratorios and higher classes of composition, believe that the name of Rubinstein will take its place beside those of the recognized great masters of musical art; and if their judgment be correct, every amateur in years to come will recur to the performance of this evening as an epoch in his musical history. Whether the performance as such will be a source of unqualified personal enjoyment is another matter. There were many really accomplished musicians who found the six sonatas of Beethoven and the long array of Chopin’s pieces decidedly wearisome. It will be interesting to observe the effect of an entire evening of Rubinstein played by Rubinstein to a confessedly Rubinstein-admiring audience.”

“The seventh of Mr. Rubinstein’s piano-forte recitals, given last night at Steinway Hall, closed the most remarkable series of concerts, and indeed one of the most remarkable musical tours, ever undertaken in the United States. It completed the history of piano-forte music which this extraordinary genius has been illustrating unaided in two cities simultaneously, for during the intervals of the series in New-York he has played an abridgement of the same programmes in Boston, hurrying back and forth from one place to the other without rest, but never betraying the slightest sign of weariness. That he has greatly advanced the musical education of the two cities by these comprehensive recitals hardly admits of a doubt. The last evening was devoted to his own compositions. They may be supposed to represent, in his theory, an advance since the [illegible] school of Liszt, who occupied most of Tuesday’s programme; and it is interesting to notice that the advance is not in the direction which Liszt seemed to have pointed out; it is guided rather by the principles of the older masters, whom the new German theorists are trying to supersede. The freedom and elegance of Rubinstein’s style as a composer are already familiar to us through many of his shorter pieces, such as the favorite Romanzas in F major and A flat major which found a place among last night’s selections. The same characteristics are discernable to a greater or less degree in all his writings for the piano. A spontaneous flow of melody—not always long sustained, but always easy and refined—and an originality of expression which is free from any straining after effect, are more remarkable in his piano-forte music than either fertility of ideas or richness of coloring. Grandeur of thought we seldom find here; although the composition often leads to those tempests of harmony in which Rubinstein so far surpasses all other masters we have yet heard. The long ‘Theme and Variations’ which he played last night was not the happiest selection of the evening, but it was an excellent specimen of the spirit of his piano-forte music, giving, so to speak, the key-note of all the rest. The theme was simple, symmetrical, and broad, the variations went on for a full half hour like the elegant musings of an improviser, wandering through an astonishing succession of fanciful forms, but tending toward nothing in particular until the pianist picked up the theme again, reinforced it, and started afresh on a headlong progress to one of his tremendous climaxes. Of the shorter and most elegant pieces, besides the two Romanzas, we must specify particularly a Melody in F major, a Barcarole in G major, a new melodie impromptu, and a beautiful nocturne. There was every variety of short composition. There was a Suite, comprising a Sarabande, Passepied, Courante, and an admirable Gavotte. There was a Prelude with Fugue. The programme consisted of about thirty numbers, but Mr. Rubinstein omitted several of them, and about half past 10 o’clock plunged into a long series of forcible and—if the truth must be told—rather uninteresting variations on ‘Yankee Doodle,’ with which he had chosen to bid farewell to America. Probably he did well to shorten the entertainment, for the room was very hot, the ventilation was very bad, and the immense concourse of people was beginning to show symptoms of uneasiness. No audience can really enjoy asphyxia for longer than two hours and a half at a time. When he had finished the whole house rose and cheered,--not for ‘Yankee Doodle,’—they did not seem to care for that—but for the great musician who is about to leave us. He was recalled again and again, and bowed his acknowledgments with much more evidence of emotion than he usually allows himself.

It is satisfactory to know that the engagement of Mr. Rubinstein in this country has been profitable to all persons concerned in it, and we ought to be grateful for the wonders of all which he has revealed to us especially during the last months of his stay. Still we cannot feel that the proper use has been made of a visit which may never be repeated. We have hardly had a glimpse of his real greatness as a composer. As an executant he has dazzled and delighted and moved us; as a creator he is not to be judged by such productions as he put forth last night. His heart is not in those, but in the works of a much higher class for the orchestra and the voice, with which he prefers to trust his fame to posterity. The grandeur of the man blazed out when he conducted his Ocean Symphony for us, and it is a great pity that he has not had an opportunity to produce other compositions of the same elevated character. We understand that Mr. Rubinstein declares that he will not return to America. We dare say he will change his mind. He has thousands of ardent and appreciative admirers in all our chief cities, and the progress of musical culture is amazingly rapid all over the Union.”

“Mr. Anton Rubinstein last evening took leave of the public which welcomed him to the United States three-fourths of a year ago. Steinway Hall was crowded in every part by an audience of a more representative character than any assemblage gathered since the greeting of Mme. Lucca in this country, and the parting scene was very impressive. In the fact that the entertainment was to include this scene dwelt, indeed, its special charm. Since Mr. Rubinstein’s earliest recital before American listeners his vast talent as an executant and his gifts as a composer have been clear. It was not to be expected, therefore, that yesterday would be pregnant with incidents likely to cast a new light upon the artist’s merits, and very few were disappointed that it did not. The programme composed exclusively selections by Mr. Rubinstein. As a composer, the gentleman was already known by several fine concertos, and by the fine ‘Ocean’ symphony, and we prefer to remember him by these admirable productions with which people here became acquainted some weeks ago. If we make an exception in favor of a few of his ‘melodies’ and his ‘German’ waltz, we confess that his writings for piano seem to us rather unimaginative in point of thought and labored in point of treatment. But Mr. Rubinstein, we think writes for the orchestra rather than for the instrument over which he has such a thorough mastery, and cannot be judged, in such a concert as last night, save by his rendering of the numbers of the bill. Upon this, in truth, he can rest for the present his claims. Neither during the concert we deal with, nor in previous affairs, were Mr. Rubinstein’s readings distinguished by that absolute accuracy of touch in very rapid passages, nor by that strictly temperate use of the pedal which can only grow out of a coldness inimical to emotional effect. But for richness and a delicious lingering quality of tone; for a touch now as gentle as the Summer breeze, and again as mighty as a giant; for a delivery in which thought is all-pervading, and for an endurance which no task, seemingly, can shake, the evening’s work is to be ever in our memory. With the recollection fresh upon us of its influence over the audience and over ourselves, we have no heart to enter into a lengthened account of the proceedings. A general reference to Mr. Rubinstein as a composer has been made above; we have to mention that in addition to the familiar element of the bill—and most of the selections had been played already—Mr. Rubinstein interpreted an arrangement of ‘Yankee Doodle,’ prepared in accordance with all the canons of art and (as to selection, at least, we opine.) in opposition to all the canons of taste. In choosing the absurd tune we have named for elaborate setting, Mr. Rubinstein, we fancy, had in view a jest. No genius can dignify ‘Yankee Doodle,’ and though the eminent pianist gravely set about clothing the theme in all the pomp and circumstance of a Liszt fantasia, we do not believe he was for a moment in doubt as to the result. About the beauties of the performer’s playing we need add nothing to that which has gone before. The keyboard is vocal under Mr. Rubinstein’s fingers, and in the compositions which the composer has left, perhaps, according to some classicists, unadorned, his style made them eloquent, and adorned them most. Of applause, we need scarcely say, there was no lack, and when the last of the promised notes was sounded, there was a demonstration of delight, of respect, and of good-will, most gratifying to witness. Steinway Hall, as we have remarked, was filled to repletion, and when the vast throng rose to its feet, and became crested with myriads of waving ‘kerchiefs, the spectacle was one not soon to go out of mind. Mr. Rubinstein was thrice summoned to the edge of the platform amid cheers and plaudits, and it was not until many minutes after he had disappeared that the audience dispersed.—At the termination of one of the most protracted and successful concert seasons on record, it will not be uninteresting to supply some particulars concerning it which the reader has not yet had an opportunity to learn. In this City, Mr. Rubinstein figured in fifty concerts. These yielded a total return of $150,000. From Maine to New-Hampshire he took part in 165 concerts, the full number, 215, producing $350,000. Of the concerts alluded to, besides the fifty in New-York, twenty were given in Boston, twelve in Philadelphia, eleven in Chicago, ten in New-Orleans, nine in Cincinnati, seven in Brooklyn, six in St. Louis and in Washington, five in Baltimore, four in Pittsburg, four in Cleveland; three were had in the cities of Newark, Albany, Hartford, Buffalo, and Detroit; two in Providence, Troy, Springfield, New-Haven, Columbus, Dayton, Louisville, Indianapolis, Toronto, Mobile, Memphis, Nashville, and in Milwaukee; and thirty-one single concerts occurred in smaller towns. From a summary of these facts, it will be readily admitted that Mr. Rubinstein’s worth has had general recognition. Skilled management, it must be admitted, however, has largely contributed to the triumph of an enterprise, upon the fruits of which a higher price must be put than upon the consequences of an attempt to merely amuse the public. Mr. Maurice Grau, the impresario of Mr. Rubinstein, and the youngest of American managers, is to be credited with the organization and prosecution of the campaign now so felicitously ended, and if the pianist’s teachings, for such they have been, are, as we believe they will be, of value in increasing a love for good music throughout the land, we trust the liberality and enterprise of the artist’s director may be held in grateful regard. Mr. Anton Rubinstein starts for Europe on Saturday. That he will return, sooner or later, to the United States, is, in our judgment, more than probable. Be this as it may, he bids us now good-bye. We are sure we answer for everybody when we say to him au revoir!” 

“The great interest felt in Mr. Rubinstein’s performances was manifested by the vast crowd which last night filled both the large and the small hall at Steinway’s, to listen to three hours’ playing of his own music by the admired pianist. The experiment was a bold one, but may be called a success. The majority of the audience listened with earnest attention, although there was a certain inevitable monotony in the programme. Several of the more brilliant selections were heartily applauded, and the fantasia on ‘Yankee Doodle,’ at the close of the concert, created quite an excitement. Mr. Rubinstein has been travelling incessantly of late, and his playing for a week or two has lacked that spirit which can only be looked for when a player is free from physical fatigue. Yet the concert of last night was a marvelous specimen of artistic endurance, and fitly closed a most interesting series of piano-forte recitals.

Since the 23^d of last September Mr. Maurice Grau has presented Mr. Rubinstein in two hundred and fifteen concerts, all composed of programmes essentially classic and with the severest adherence to the highest forms of musical art, and has achieved the greatest pecuniary success ever attained by any similar attempt. The gross receipts of these concerts reached the enormous amount of $350,000. Still more extraordinary, perhaps, is the fact that New York alone insisted upon the unprecedented number of fifty concerts from one virtuoso, and for those fifty concerts paid no less than one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The enthusiastic admiration of New York was repeated everywhere. In towns where not a house stood twenty years ago, the strains of Beethoven and Mendelssohn were received with as much acclaim as in Steinway Hall, as they poured from the magical fingers of Rubinstein; and in numbers, too, greater in their relative ratio to the population.

A glance at the records of these concerts shows us that besides the fifty given in New York, there were given [repeats same information included in the New York Times article, 05/23/73, p. 5, regarding the number of concerts performed in other cities]. The success of this enterprise is in a great measure due to the energy and ability of the young impresario, Maurice Grau.”

“The scene at Steinway Hall will not soon be forgotten by those who were present. Never even during the Lucca and Nilsson seasons could Irving Place and Fourteenth street boast of a greater throng of carriages. Every seat in the large hall and its extension, and in both balconies, was occupied, and hundreds had to content themselves with standing room. It was, probably, one of the largest audiences ever assembled in the hall since the evening it was inaugurated. The programme consisted entirely of Rubinstein’s works, and contained the following [see above].

Every one seemed to be on the qui vive for ‘Yankee Doodle.’ Young ladies, fresh from boarding school or city conservatoire do not, please, fall into ecstasies and rush off to the nearest publisher’s to purchase the dear, cunning little variations on one of our national airs. The cunning little variations are forty-two pages in length and are a trifle more difficult, if possible, than Liszt’s ‘Don Juan’ fantasie, which no one yet has succeeded in playing except Tausig, and it brought him to an early grave, or Bach’s chromatic fantasie, according to its modern interpretation. Therefore, ladies, keep a respectful distance from Rubinstein’s ‘Yankee Doodle.’ But it is truly a Titanic work, in which our poor little anthem plays a supernumerary’s part. A work which must be often heard before a fraction of the enormous technical difficulties are apparent to even a well-trained musical ear. What must then be thought of the mind that could conceive and the fingers that can execute such a work? Some musicians, who have not heard the composition, may sneer at the subject which called forth the powers of the mind of such a pianist; but when we tell them that ‘Yankee Doodle’ occupies a very subordinate position in the work, and that the highest and noblest thoughts which can actuate a patriotic heart may be found in it, they may be inclined to alter their opinion. At the conclusion of this Herculean effort of pianism, the composer was called out a half dozen times, and ladies crowded forward to shake hands him. Thus closed the most remarkable concert season ever known in America. The success, artistic and financial, is due in the first place to the genius of the great pianist, who, eight months ago, set foot on our shores; in the second place to the reverence and appreciation for art which must now be conceded to the American public, and, lastly, to the pluck energy and judgment of the young manager, Mr. Maurice Grau, who took the helm when his uncle, Mr. J. Grau, was stricken by illness and from September 23, 1872, until May 22, 1873, proved himself a manager of more than ordinary ability. Two hundred and fifteen concerts have been given during the past eight months by Rubinstein, and the receipts have exceeded $350,000. Over a third of a million dollars in one concert season, and not a single instance of sensationalism or departure from the best classical standards. Who can now say that America is in any respect behind the boasted capitals of Europe in reverence and patronage of art?”

Influence of the artist’s visit on America.

Includes program. “The house was well filled at all the concerts, and at the close of the last recital much enthusiasm was manifested, and the great artist was recalled repeatedly. To tell the truth, however, his long series of Variations on Yankee Doodle (!) sounded like elaborate sarcasm. Let us hope they were not so intended.”