Pianola Concert  Northport Arts Coalition

 
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could play the piano like a great virtuoso? Not only would you be able to create note-perfect performances, but you would not have to spend any time practicing. Furthermore, you would be able to perform 4 hand arrangements as easily as the standard two hand pieces, and your repertoire would be larger than any pianist who ever lived. Well, if what I am describing sounds too good to be true, you might be more than a little surprised to discover that over 100 years ago, they invented a machine that would enable you to do exactly what I have just described. It was called the Pianola, and it is the subject of my recital.

It was a machine that was revolutionary in its day, and truly changed the world of Music, but then fell out of favor so far and so fast that it would not be much of an exaggeration to say that today, only a small fraction of one percent of the population are aware it ever existed. 

The term “Player Piano” is a cliché; that is to say, a word that instantly and automatically conjures up a stereotyped image---and a sound--- of a noisy, soulless machine pounding out mechanical music with all the beauty and subtlety of a charging bull elephant. While there has never been a shortage of Player Pianos that fit that description, what has been forgotten is that there also existed a machine that was capable of truly exquisite musical results. That machine is the Pianola, a trademarked name of an automatic Piano playing device that was invented and marketed by The Aeolian Company, the world’s largest maker of Pianos and Player Pianos in the years from the late 1800’s to the late 1920’s. Unfortunately, the term Pianola was too successful for its own good, and it joined the ranks of other words, such as aspirin, frigidaire, cellophane and jello that became the name for an entire field of products, when originally it was supposed to be only one of a number of similar items. As far as the public was concerned, if it used paper rolls to play music, it was a Pianola. This is as wrong as assuming any Piano is a Steinway. 

As to why the Player Pianos that could make beautiful music have been forgotten, and only the noisemakers have been remembered is too big a topic to be answered here. Although there has been interest in the so-called “Reproducing Pianos” that re-enact the performance of the master pianist who recorded the roll, my primary interest in putting on this concert is to show people something that has been almost totally forgotten: That machines exist that allow anyone, regardless of talent, to create really amazing live performances on a real Piano. Even someone who has never encountered one of these machines can intuitively create a credible performance from the very first roll, and with just a little practice the results can be incredible. 

The musician of that era who either made rolls or otherwise endorsed the best quality player pianos include Debussy, Mahler, Ravel, Stravinsky, Puccini, Gershwin, Rachmaninoff, St. Saens, Kreisler, Godowsky, Horowitz and Rubinstein and the list goes on and on. It might be more dramatic if one were asked to name prominent musicians of that era who did not endorse these special high quality Player Pianos. The answer is “none”. 

In my years of collecting, I have come across a number of rolls that I consider to have exceptional merit. One of these is a roll made in Germany that is played by the turn-of-the-century virtuoso Bernhard Stavenhagen, who is also known as Liszt’s last pupil. Although Stavenhagen recorded quite a few rolls, on this one roll, Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsodie #12, he wrote in German words to the effect that “This is how I heard Liszt play it”. Although I have several versions of this Rhapsodie, played by Josef Hofmann, Alexander Siloti, Percy Granger and others, they all stick very closely to the score. The Stavenhagen one, however is “all over the map”, and does a lot more to give one an idea of how Liszt played than reading endless descriptions by his contemporaries such as “It was Divine….”, etc. Furthermore, I believe this is the only recording of any kind that attempts to show how Liszt played, which makes this recording that much more important. Another rare roll is one played by Enrique Granados, when he came to America in 1916 for the premiere at the old Met of his opera, “Goyescas”. He recorded several of his compositions at Aeolian Hall, across 42nd Street from the great NY Public Library, and one of the rolls he made is a beautiful, haunting Improvisation that remains seemingly unknown to music lovers all over the world. Tragically, Granados died as he was returning to Spain when his ship was torpedoed by a German submarine, and this Improvisation may be the last recording he was ever to make. Other rare rolls include The Silver Swan, a rag by Scott Joplin that was never copyrighted or published, and remained unknown to Joplin fans until somebody found an old roll and played it for music scholars, who immediately and unanimously agreed that it was a lost Joplin composition. I also have rolls of major Chopin pieces, played by virtuoso pianists such as Ferruccio Busoni and Alfred Cortot that contain sections where the pianist actually makes up sections!. Although Chopin is one of my very favorite composers, these new, improvised parts are not bad, although I doubt if any pianist would do something like that today. 

Just as the term Player Piano is a cliché, there is another cliché that nowadays instantly conveys the image of the latest, most modern triumph of technology, and that word is “digital”. It was not until this word became popular that the world was told that all pre-digital material was now labeled as “analog”. We are told that music is digitally recorded, and digitally edited, and digitally re-mastered and digitally encoded, and digitally played back, and so on ad nauseum. And what happens at the very end of all these digital processes? The answer is you get one or more “loudspeakers” spraying vibrating air towards your head that attempt to be similar (or ANALOGous) to the real vibrations created by a real piano played by a real person with real feelings who is creating real, live music. 

Let me give you an example. If I show someone a painting of George Washington, and say “What is this?” I am sure that they would say “That’s George Washington.” If I then said “No, you’re wrong; it is a PAINTING of George Washington.”, they would likely say “Anyone can see that… I thought you wanted me to identify the guy in the painting.” Now, suppose I took someone who likes Classical Music, and sat them down at a desk with a CD player in front of them. I then press a button, and the famous beginning of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata starts to play. If I asked them “What is this?” I am sure they would say “This is the Moonlight Sonata”. If I then said “No, you’re wrong; it is a RECORDING of the Moonlight Sonata”, I am sure that many of them would say “Well---what is the difference?” Well, let me tell you the difference: The CD is artificial and has about as much life to it as a photograph; it is nothing more than an ANALOGY. The REAL Moonlight Sonata is a live performance, played by a real person with real feelings, played on a real piano. Let me come right out and say that people who do not feel the magic in the air when they witness a live performance are the kind of people who can afford to miss my concert. They can save their time and money and stay home and watch television. I’ll be happy to sell them a CD of my concert. 

Sometimes, when I am performing on my instruments, well meaning people ask me why I don’t put an electric motor into the piano so that I will not have to spend all that energy in pumping the pedals. My usual response is “Maybe I should hire somebody to listen to the piano for me also.”

A selection from Bizet's Carmen arranged for piano solo

The "Italian" Symphony (#4, the 1st Movement) by Felix Mendelssohn---This is a mechanical arrangement of a 4 hand piano version of this orchestral work 

King Porter Stomp--Composed and played by Jelly Roll Morton

Hungarian Rhapsodie #12-by Franz Liszt, and played by his pupil, Bernhard Stavenhagen as he heard Liszt play it.

Improvisiation on Valencia Jota with the influence of Arab Music of the South---Composed and played by Enrique Granados, this composition is virtually unknown.

The Silver Swan--An almost lost rag by Scott Joplin. Never published or copyrighted, it only survived because a piano roll was made of it.

Chopin Concerto in E Minor --3rd Movement--Arranged and played for 4 hand piano by Josef Hofmann

Mule Walk-Composed and played in the style of James P. Johnson

Rhapsody in Blue --2nd Part--Composed and played by George Gershwin