Year for Pianists

Year for Pianists

The annual westward migration of pianists occurred last week. On the Paris came Ernest Schelling, Jose Iturbi, Ignace Jan Paderewski; on the Columbus, Walter Gieseking; on the Mauretania, Alexander Brailowsky. Good also for grapes, apples and upland game birds, this year will be a pianists' year in the U. S. Already scheduled for recitals are Josef Hofmann, Harold Bauer, Ossip Gabrilowitsch. Italian Carlo Zecchi will make his U. S. debut in January. But the three men sure to attract greatest attention, sure to be the most newsworthy, are Paderewski, Iturbi, Gieseking.

Paderewski, nearing 70, arrived look-ing tired and thin after his recent illness. He was accompanied by lank Ernest Schelling, a neighbor of his at Morges on Lake Geneva. He wore the characteristic Paderewski dress: ill-fitting overcoat, slouch hat, black sack suit, white waistcoat, low flannel collar, high button boots. A delegation of Polish war veterans met him at the pier. Newspapers reviewed his political past; emblazoned his most casual utterances. On Oct. 21 in Syracuse, Paderewski begins a nationwide tour of 72 concerts. He will travel as always in a private car (cost: approximately $25,000), take a three-week vacation in February at his 2,600-acre ranch in Paso Robles, Calif. His performances are bound to be uneven. He will bang on the piano unmercifully at times, hit wrong notes, distort the text. But Paderewski has never been a faultless technician. His instrument sometimes magnifies his colossal ideas but occasionally it fails him.

The Spanish Iturbi was the sensation of last season. He is an elfin person, called by his friends "Petrouschka." He plays the piano as if he enjoyed it tremendously, takes each phrase separately, polishes it smooth, turns it a dozen ways to catch the different lights. Iturbi will give some 70 recitals this season, appear as soloist with the Cleveland, New York Philharmonic, Detroit, Minneapolis, Chicago, St. Louis and Los Angeles Orchestras.

Gieseking is a hulking sensitive German with a curiously childish face. When he plays he hunches over the keyboard, puffs and snorts in a labored way. But his virtuosity is complete. His Bach has an unrivaled facility and grace. He dares to be deeply romantic with Schumann, Schubert, Chopin. His Debussy is more subtly tinted than any to be heard. Last week in Manhattan Gieseking opened a three-month tour. He, too, will give recitals all the way to the Pacific Coast, appear as soloist with the Seattle, St. Louis, Boston and Cincinnati Orchestras.

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