WHOM THE GODS LOVE
Richard Farrell
(born, Wellington, New Zealand,
1926: died, Arundel, Sussex, England,
1958)
by Peter Mechen
Instead
of celebrating during 2006 New Zealand-born
pianist Richard Farrell's 80th birthday,
and a career as one of his era’s
most acclaimed musicians, the world
has had to wait until 2008 for a
more sober anniversary. Fifty years
ago, fate took a hand on the night
of 27 May 1958, on a country road
near Arundel, Sussex, when a car
unaccountably left the road and
hit a tree, killing all three of
the vehicle's occupants. One of
the passengers in the car was Richard
Farrell.
During the 1950s
a number of prodigiously talented
young musicians prematurely lost
their lives - among them pianists
Dinu Lipatti and William Kapell,
conductors Guido Cantelli and Ataulfo
Argenta, horn-player Dennis Brain
and singer Kathleen Ferrier. In
such company the name of Richard
Farrell might seem out of place
at present, but his close friendship
with William Kapell bears examination.
In 1945, on a tour of Australia,
Kapell heard Farrell play in Sydney
and immediately contacted his teacher,
the renowned Olga Samaroff at the
famous Juilliard School of Music
in New York, with a view to getting
Farrell into her piano class. The
incident indicates the extent to
which Farrell’s talent made an impression
upon a colleague considered by many
to be stamped with greatness at
the time of his own tragic death
- Kapell, like Farrell who was five
years his junior, was killed at
the age of thirty-one. Kapell had
actually already heard about Farrell
from none other than Eugene Ormandy,
maestro of the Philadelphia Orchestra,
who had heard the young New Zealander
play on an earlier visit to Australia.
Madame Samaroff
- Juilliard's most respected piano
pedagogue, with students in her
class of the likes of Kapell, Rosalyn
Tureck, Eugene List and Alexis Weissenberg
- was thus persuaded to accept an
unknown into this elite group without
audition and well past the closing
date for such an acceptance. Undoubtedly
the impression Farrell made upon
Kapell must have been phenomenal.
And in the short while Farrell was
with Samaroff - she died just two
years after Farrell became her pupil
- he seemed to fulfil much of that
promise. In fact, Samaroff was said
to have remarked that Farrell was
the best pupil she ever had, though
the idea of a pupil fulfilling the
aspirations of a teacher as a measure
of artistic achievement might have
more validity for some than for
others.
The youngster made
the most of his early opportunities.
Within a year of joining Samaroff's
class, and prompted by the encouragement
and continuing friendship of Kapell,
Farrell received a contract with
Columbia Artists. This organization
sent promising young musicians on
contractual tours of American cities.
The youngsters cut their performers’
teeth playing up to six concerts
a week as part of a highly-regarded
"Community Concerts" regime. In
1948 Farrell made the first of a
number of return visits to New Zealand,
playing on this occasion a breathtaking
range of repertoire which included
music from Bach to Copland, and
substantial works such as the "Appassionata"
and E-flat Major Op.7 Sonatas by
Beethoven, the Chopin B Minor Sonata,
the Schumann C-Major Fantasia, the
Prokofiev Seventh Sonata, and the
1941 Copland Sonata, as well as
the Hindemith Sonata No.2, plus
two concertos, the Beethoven G Major
and the Tchaikovsky B flat Minor.
Back in the United
States later that same year Farrell
made his Carnegie Hall debut, an
occasion which drew forth notices
of praise from the normally hard-bitten
New York critics. An example was
that which appeared in the Herald-Tribune:
"Among his qualities is a real connection
with music as a living value." Another
tribute came from the flamboyant
Artur Rubinstein, who declared Farrell,
along with himself and William Kapell,
to be "one of only three pianists
in the world" – a tongue-in-cheek,
but nevertheless significant reference.
How many young
artists have experienced short-lived
fame in the wake of the initial
excitement of their first appearances,
followed by relative obscurity?
Given that Farrell's piano playing
appeared to receive the kind of
instant acclaim which greets many
a rising talent in the world of
music, there was a chance that the
young man's impact might not have
lasted. That this didn’t happen
with Farrell is demonstrated by
the regularity with which his subsequent
appearances, on both sides of the
Atlantic, as well as in New Zealand
and Australia, inspired "rave" notices.
In 1950, two years after his Carnegie
Hall debut, his playing brought
forth comments such as "a highly
gifted pianist " (London Times),
"an enviable, natural-seeming command
of the keyboard" (London Daily Telegraph),
"….mastery of the piano" (New York
Times), and "…both virtuosity and
brilliance of sound" (New York Herald
Tribune). A Royal Festival Hall
programme of a 1953 concert in which
he appeared with George Weldon and
the Philharmonia Orchestra, described
Farrell as the "world-renowned pianist",
and the programme of a 1954 Royal
Albert Hall concert, in which Farrell
played the Rachmaninov Third Piano
Concerto with (surprisingly) Sir
Thomas Beecham and his Royal Philharmonic,
spoke of "The Return of the Distinguished
New Zealand Pianist". Farrell had
recently toured Australia and also
appeared at a Royal Concert in New
Zealand before the young Queen Elizabeth.
Just as revealing
is the wording of a 1954 Melbourne
subscription concerts brochure,
advertised Farrell's scheduled appearance
in the series: - "He (Farrell) has
been in demand for recitals on BBC
Television, besides playing with
leading British orchestras, including
the Philharmonia and the Halle.
His recitals in The Hague and Amsterdam
last year (1953) were so successful
that he has been invited for a further
tour of Holland. A Festival Hall
appearance with (Walter) Susskind
last year led to a recording contract."
It was obviously a career that was
in full swing, although Farrell
never lost an opportunity to come
back to his New Zealand homeland
and give concerts, to predictably
rapturous public acclaim. As the
singer Frances Alda had also done,
many years before him, Farrell always
insisted upon calling himself a
New Zealander, despite spending
a good deal of his young years in
Sydney.
In 1956 he made
what was to be his last tour of
New Zealand. By this time he was
tackling some of the mountain-peaks
of the pianistic repertoire in his
programmes - things like the Brahms
F Minor Sonata and the "Handel"
Variations, Ravel's "Gaspard de
la Nuit", Chopin's Op.10 Etudes,
and some Liszt transcriptions and
paraphrases. As well, with the New
Zealand National Orchestra, whose
work with conductor James Robertson
he praised, he played the "Emperor",
and the Ravel Left-Hand Concerto.
That same year
Farrell had commenced what seemed
a highly promising recording career
in England with Pye Records, beginning
with a coupling of the Grieg and
Liszt E-flat concertos in which
he was partnered by the Halle Orchestra
under George Weldon (Pye CCL 30104).
These performances, along with some
of the Grieg "Lyric Pieces" from
a later LP (Pye CCL 30107), and,
on a separate disc, a collection
of his Chopin recordings which were
first issued on various EPs, had
a tantalisingly short life on two
EMI Phoenixa CDs in the early 1990s
before being deleted - the Grieg/Liszt
recording on EMI CDM 7 63778-2,
and the Chopin recital (sharing
a disc with another pianist who
recorded for Pye Records, Iso Elison)
on EMI CDM 7 64136-2. To date, no
other recordings have commercially
appeared since the deletion of those
two CDs, while the other LP and
EP recordings languish either in
private collections or among piles
of mostly unwanted second-hand classical
vinyl.
A pity, because
these recordings contain many beautiful,
thought-provoking performances.
One of the most challenging is the
last recording Farrell made, just
a few weeks before his death in
1958, a Rachmaninov recital (Pye
CCL 30138) featuring the "Variations
on a Theme by Corelli, Op.42", and
six of the composer's Preludes,
including, (of course!) "the" Prelude
(in C-sharp Minor). It's in the
playing of the quieter, more lyrical
works, such as the D Major Op.23
No.4 and G Major Op.32 No.5 Preludes,
that one most readily recognises
and warms to the voice of a natural
musician, able to create whole vistas
of eloquence around an unfailingly
singing line. Elsewhere, and especially
in sections of the "Corelli"
Variations, the performances on
first hearing seem determinedly
non-bravura (some would say underpowered)
– though repeated hearings suggest
Farrell was attempting to indicate
that the music was about more than
virtuoso display.
Other
studio recordings feature the Grieg
G Minor Ballade (coupled with the
Lyric Pieces on Pye CCL 30107) –
one of the first all-Grieg LP recitals,
an issue rapturously received by
the critics - two Brahms recitals
(Pye CCL 30109 and CCL 30136) and,
on various EP discs, collections
of music by Chopin and Liszt, as
well as pieces by Granados, Debussy,
Mendelssohn and Schumann. Along
with this comes a small but valuable
legacy of broadcast material from
various sources, including a performance
of the Schumann Piano Quartet which
Farrell made in Switzerland with
the piano quartet he had formed.
It’s the only example preserved
of his activities as a chamber musician.
He had previously performed all
of the Beethoven sonatas for violin
and piano in London's Wigmore Hall.
From New Zealand we have two concerto
performances, both, unfortunately,
with a couple of bars missing (one
suspects misadventure by broadcasting),
from separate concerts in Auckland
in 1948 - the Tchaikovsky B-flat
and the Beethoven G Major, both
with Anderson Tyrer and a near-fledgling
New Zealand National Orchestra.
Something of the
excitement and bravura of Farrell’s
solo recital appearances can be
gleaned from a 1956 2ZB Wellington
Sunday Showcase presentation in
which the pianist introduces and
plays three of Liszt's most famous
solo piano works - his operatic
transcriptions and paraphrases of
the Waltz from Gounod's "Faust"
and of Verdi's "Rigoletto", as well
as his Sixth Hungarian Rhapsody.
Alas, New Zealand has as lamentable
a record as any country world-wide
regarding the preservation of sound
archives - no trace exists of his
acclaimed performances of that Everest
of the romantic concerto literature,
the Rachmaninov D Minor, neither
in New Zealand nor elsewhere – which
includes a 1954 Royal Albert Hall
performance with Beecham of the
same concerto, forever lost … unless
some far-sighted recording enthusiast
of the time has left a tape copy
sitting somewhere on an undiscovered
shelf!
Conductor James
Robertson, who was Farrell's accompanist
with the National Orchestra during
his last New Zealand tour in 1956,
recalled many years later in a commemorative
50th anniversary radio programme,
that Farrell didn't seek to publicise
himself in any way except through
his playing. It’s an impression
reinforced by the various sound-interviews
with and about Farrell from the
archives. One gleans an initial
picture of a man and musician at
ease with himself and his world,
someone who was content to let his
artistry speak without any showmanship
or hype. And Broadcasting Service
Concerts Manager Jim Hartstonge,
his New Zealand "minder" on his
first trip home as a performing
artist, spoke of Farrell's natural,
ego-free manner making him an easy
person to like, with people everywhere
going out of their way to do things
for him. However, author and musician
Laurence Jenkins, presently researching
material for a proposed book about
Farrell, has suggested that, especially
towards the end, there were numerous
signs of strain on the young musician.
The constant pressure of concert
work, the necessity of providing
for his parents' continuing needs,
and the pianist’s indifferent health
often brought him to the point of
physical exhaustion and gave rise
to much mental stress. On his last
Australian visit in 1957, Farrell
made some recordings for the ABC
which elicited a less-than-enthusiastic
response, indicating that the playing
for whatever reason was not up to
his usual impeccable standards.
It might have been that Farrell's
career as a pianist was no longer
bringing him the fulfillment of
previous years, to the point that
he was looking elsewhere – in fact
he had earlier studied conducting
at Juilliard with no less a figure
than Serge Koussevitsky, and might
well have pursued a course taken
by a number of such famous instrumentalists
who turned to conducting either
on a part-time or full-time basis.
Any decision Farrell
might have made to forgo the achievements
of his soloist's career would have
given cause for regret, in view
of the extraordinary talent and
innate musicianship he had displayed
up to the time of his death - though
it’s arguable he would have brought
distinction to whatever musical
activity he chose to pursue. But
he seemed oblivious to the idea
of withdrawing from the musical
world for a period of rest and consolidation,
as did pianistic colleagues like
Van Cliburn and Maurizio Pollini.
Sadly, the might-have-beens belong
to the mists of conjecture; and
Farrell's place in musical history
remains resolutely in the realm
of his brilliant, though short-lived
achievements at the keyboard. What
gives cause for alarm is that time
and neglect have relegated his memory
to near-obscurity – what a tragedy
it would be for any group of people
to pass over one such whose star
had shone so brightly.
Jim Hartstonge,
the New Zealand Broadcasting Service’s
Concert Manager for many years,
was Farrell's "minder" on at least
two of his recital tours of his
homeland, and became a close friend;
Farrell actually wanted Hartstonge
as his manager, in response to the
growing demands of the pianist's
international career. Interviewed
many years afterwards, Hartstonge
recalled meeting Sir Thomas Beecham
during the interval of that 1954
Royal Albert Hall concert in which
Farrell and Beecham collaborated
in the Rachmaninov D Minor concerto,
and being told by the venerable
maestro that "this young man is
going to go right to the top!".
Alas, such was not to be – but nevertheless
it seems unacceptable to consign
what Farrell did manage to achieve
in his short life to the oblivion
of almost-forgotten things. It has
taken the full fifty years following
his death for his memory to be at
last celebrated with some kind of
fitting memorial. This year, New
Zealand’s most prestigious Piano
Competition, the Kerikeri International
Competition, has been able to offer
for the first time a "Richard
Farrell Award" as its first
prize, thanks largely to the generosity
of a Wellington arts patron. But
now, giving the recordings Farrell
did leave behind their proper due
would be an appropriate way for
our age to further encourage his
long-awaited and much-needed world-wide
rehabilitation as a musician.
Author's note:
My thanks are due to author Laurence
Jenkins for his assistance in providing
much information regarding Farrell,
as well as his permission to draw
generally from his various published
commemorative articles. Detail regarding
Farrell's commercially released
Pye recordings was kindly provided
upon request by both Rod Hamilton
of the British Library Sound Archive,
and by Richard Bradburn of EMI Classics,
while Rachel Lord at the New Zealand
Sound Archive/Nga Taonga Korero
was equally helpful regarding recordings
of NZ interviews and performances
held by the Archive. Most gratifyingly,
Atoll Records of New Zealand has
announced the forthcoming reissue
of all of Farrell’s studio recordings,
with the first 2-CD instalment due
for release before the end of 2008.
