King of Leons

My piano teacher was very much against my spending summers at music camp.  For her, it was a loss of control.  For me, it was the opportunity to find like-minded kids with whom to make music.  I felt it was important to test my mettle against older, more experienced musicians.  But the real draw was the opportunity to hobnob with some of my piano idols—maybe even to have the opportunity to play for them.

I received a scholarship to attend the Eastern Music Festival in the summer of ’74.  There, I had the opportunity, at last, to meet the legendary pianist, Leon Fleisher.  Fleisher’s son, Richard, was a close friend of mine—a harpist in my youth symphony.  Richard’s father lived in the D.C. area, so we never saw him at our concerts with all the other parents.   His apparent absence in Richard’s life added to the mystery that cloaked the man.  

Leon Fleisher walks on water among pianists.  He was the first American to win a top prize in a major European competition, back in the early 50s.  His recordings of the Beethoven piano concertos remain the standard by which all others are measured.  In the early 60s, Fleisher suffered the greatest of all tragedies:  he lost the use of his right hand.  This redirected his musical efforts into teaching, conducting, and most remarkably, performing the small repertoire composed for left hand alone.

At EMF, we all anticipated Fleisher’s arrival.  He arrived with great fanfare--an imposing presence with profoundly piercing eyes.  When he looks in your direction his gaze is not so much at you as it is through you.  Unlike many of the other artists that visited, he was not easily approachable; he carried an air that said ‘when I am interested in you, you will know.’

During his visit, Fleisher performed the incredible Ravel Piano Concerto for Left Hand Alone.  It is amazing to see someone with so much presence and power at the keyboard perform a piece with just one hand.  His right hand was used mainly to anchor him to the piano, resting through most of the performance on the crossbar in front of the pin block.  Those of us who were pianists had the same thoughts after the performance:  we wish we could do with both hands what he achieved with just one.

As part of his visit, Fleisher conducted a piano master class.  A master class is essentially a public event where a musical god conducts a lesson for one of more emerging students.    I was excited to be one of the few pianists chosen to perform for Fleisher.  I had been working on the Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody #12, a piece of great difficulty for a teenager with small hands.  The master class began with my own performance, after which Fleisher discussed with me (and the audience) the concepts that defined the character, tone, and tempo of the piece.  Standing behind me at the piano, he carved out passages on which to focus.  I would play first, then he would demonstrate, then I would try to emulate his technique.  The passages that most challenged me with my right hand, he was able to execute perfectly with his left.

Before the master class, I thought I played this piece well.  It was my signature piece during my early teens; I played it at every opportunity.  But after 30 minutes with Fleisher my performance was transformed.  I had a deeper understanding of my role in bringing this piece to life.   My interest in it was reborn, as if it were a new piece.  And I had a different understanding of how to approach all pieces on the piano from that moment forward.  The experience remains a high point in my short career as an aspiring musician.  [In the photo below, I still have Fleisher's notes in my music.]

A few nights later, I had the opportunity to perform that Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody in a piano recital with the maestro in attendance.  He approached me afterward and congratulated me on internalizing his advice.   I am probably still blushing.

Leon Fleisher received the Kennedy Center Honors in 2007.  During his tribute, I watched as other great musicians described similar experiences with Fleisher—the unique and impeccable way he approaches music making and the influence he has had on so many careers.    Today, Leon Fleisher is not well-known outside the musical elite, but it was gratifying to see the community of musicians recognize him for his profound impact on music making in America.