Rachmaninoff,
The Tsar
and
the Steinway
There
are times that I go astray from Oceanside to become enchanted by an
extraordinary event. Such was the night of August 27, 2024. The Balboa Theater in San Diego presented a Musical
Story told and preformed by Hershey Felder.
Walking
into the great auditorium of the Balboa Theater, there is was. The
Steinway centered on the stage waiting. Light was dim, and gloriously
moody. The setting of a garden, dreamlike in shades of blues and
greens. The House in the background was Rachmaninoff's in Beverly
Hills California. The mood is set. It is one of my greatest loves,
this music of Rachmaninoff.
Childhood
memories came flooding back as I strove to master the Prelude in C♯
Minor. As a teenager, the music filled the missing places in my life
as I imagine that composing this had a profound catharsis on
Rachmaninoff when he was only 19 years old.
Background.
This work was one of the first the 19
year old
Rachmaninoff
composed as a "Free Artist", after he graduated from the
Moscow Conservatory on 29 May 1892. He performed this new work for
the first time at one of the concerts of the Moscow Electrical
Exhibition on 26 September 1892.*
Just
before the Play began, a smokey fog enveloped the stage. Adding to
the mystery of what was about to happen, the air of expectation was
felt by us all. Then, Hershey Felder strode into this mysterious
garden and his voice rang out. Still we were, breathless in our
convocation of expectation. Seated on a garden bench, Rachmaninoff
told his story. One of the heartbreak of His Russia, and the longing
of his life's purpose to tell the story of the Bells of Russia.
Enter
the dream, the Tsar, in the person of Jonathan Silverstri.
Magnificent in his royal uniform, he confronted Rachmaninoff in his
ranting about his music and the misfortunes of his music not being
played in Russia. The interaction between the two men was fractious
at times, but in the end, each was responsive to the other and the
understanding of needs of each other.

The
Steinway is
the third party to this historical
play. The sorrow deep tones of bass , the mid-range tones is the
modulating armature, and the ethereal high strings singing the songs
of life, The Steinway is the glue, that holds the entire proceedings
together...for me, I was left without words for the rest of the
play. Somehow, the music of Rachmaninoff starts in the mid-range of
my physical self, and electrical sparks works their way up to my
brain in recognition. I am his. My hands can no longer play his
music, but my heart will play along side of any performer. The
Steinway gives its song to us, and it
is the crucible of the parts and the many facets of the Play...
A
Wondrous night, full or the greatest of music, a glorious setting for
performance, giving us a historical imagining, and the compounded
sense of a communal blending of people coming together for an event
which had the effect of, out of many we were one, for one magical
moment in time...
*
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