Out in the Open

When Cellist Pablo Casals staged a Bach festival in the French Pyrenees town of Prades last year, he did not so much come out of retirement as invite others to join him in it. Last week, playing in the airy courtyard of Perpignan's 13th Century Palace of the Kings of Majorca, Casals was really out in the open. He made a 30-mile move from Prades to more accessible Perpignan; fellow musicians and some 2,000 music lovers made global pilgrimages to hear him.

Last year's festival honored Bach; this year's get-together was frankly in honor of Casals himself. The composer whose work dominated the program: Mozart. ("After Bach," says Casals, "it is Mozart I like most.")

The maestro's Mozart, which he directed from a pillow-padded armchair, was sometimes hampered by lack of rehearsal and by lack of a disciplined first-rate orchestra, but at its best it showed the same deep understanding and respect for the composer's intentions as does Casals' Bach.

The open-air festival courtyard raised special problems. Perpignan's tramontane, a strong, cold wind that sweeps along the Pyrenees to the Mediterranean, kept the orchestra grabbing for their music, finally made them clip the sheets to the racks with clothespins. The wind also played havoc with the acoustics, made the most desirable spots those on a chairless balcony above the platform. Astute music lovers sacrificed comfort, sat on the balcony floor, their feet dangling over the edge. At the second night's concert, the tramontane brought an unseasonable downpour that soaked the motionless audience to the skin before the concert was called off.

Most of those who flocked to Perpignan thought little of the discomfort. Said Soprano Jennie Tourel, who gave stirring performances of Mozart and Bach arias: "Casals literally radiates music. He just makes you sing." Said Pianist Rudolf Serkin, whose Beethoven and Bach sonatas with Casals were festival high points: "Without looking at him you feel all his intentions. We understand each other like an old happily married couple."

Casals himself was pleased as Punch with his strenuous three weeks in the open. "Last year, at the first festival, I suffered from stage fright because I hadn't played in public for so long. Now I enjoy it all immensely." At one point in mid-festival, a bit tired from the heavy load of rehearsals and performances, the 74-year-old maestro felt faint for a moment, had to pause briefly before going on. But this week, apparently none the worse for wear, he was getting ready for three weeks of recordings, talking about another festival next year.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.