Sergey Prokofiev diaries: 22 April 1913

urn:iso:std:iso:639:ed-3:eng

376-378

text excerpt

Today is a great day in the Conservatoire: the final exam of those graduating from the piano class. Eight people were performing, all of whom had been awarded marks of 5+ for their recital programmes. This year, because of the Fiftieth Anniversary Jubilee, they were competing for three prizes of a grand piano; in normal years there is one piano for the winner of the first prize. Max and I were there at ten o'clock to find an already packed hall. We were counting on seeing a good number of 'targets', but the competition itself held such interest for us that we soon forgot about them. Well-tipped ushers made a way for us to the front of the hall, where we had a little more room to sit. 

The first to play was Bai, a student of Drozdov, in the Tchaikovsky Concerto. This was a good performance, with very fleet passage-work, power and temperament and as much expressivity as one could wish. In places he rushed the tempo to the detriment of the phrasing. He was followed by Katyusha Borshch - my love of long ago - who played Chopin's E minor Concerto very nicely, but after Bai and Tchaikovsky the effect was somewhat insipid and dull. After her came her colleague from Barinova's class, Rabinovich, a pianist with sensational fingers and nothing whatsoever between the ears, who gave a sparkling account of the Liszt Concerto. I was ready to bet he would get one of the prizes. Rabinovich's performance was followed by a short pause, and then we rather reluctantly listened to two girls: Lapina from Dubasov's class and Zurmüllen's student Motseikovich (she who had earlier evoked tears of joy from her professor).

Laping played truly badly, Motseikovich was fine except that Glazunov's Concerto sent everyone to sleep. Next came the long interval, with a myriad acquaintances in the audience: a slew of Zakharovs, brothers, sisters, and wives; Lidusya and Zoryusya [Karneyev], looking marvellous; Saburov; Myaskushka. Not many 'targets', I like 19A but don't know her. Rudavskaya told me she had a damaged lung, and Marusya Pavlova is in a very bad way: she has galloping consumption and is in a sanatorium somewhere in Finland. I am truly very sorry for Marinochka. Since seeing her leave the Jubilee Concert hand in hand with Zakharov I have not seen anything of her at all, and could not understand what had become of her. I suspect Rudavskaya's 'damaged lung' has an element of coquettishness about it, but perhaps it really is so. The crush during the interval was inconceivable, and it was virtually impossible to get to the buffet. Zoya wanted something to drink, and Max performed some sort of miracle in getting her a glass of milk, which he kindly bore aloft to her right from one side of the Conservatoire to the other. She was touched. 

After the interval came the most interesting group participating in the competition: Yesipova's class. Poznyakovskaya performed Saint-Saëns's C minor Concerto with exceptional refinement and brilliance, and elicited a storm of applause. Her playing invariably draws praise, but I have always remained rather sceptical. After her came my ashen-faced ex-friend Zakharov, to whom two princesses of the royal blood had come to listen. He was an authentic candidate for the prize of the piano, as Yesipova had always pushed him. I did not consider him a worthy winner, as I had always said - to his face, when we were friends - that he was more gifted in life than in music. Max listened with hostility, the Karneyev girls with reverence. Zakharov was clearly suffering from nerves, his face whiter than the milk-coloured organ forming the background to his performance, and more than once his hands slipped right past the keyboard. His playing was dry and harsh, without so much as a drop of the warmth, languor or passion Rachmaninov calls for. The audience greeted him with less than moderate enthusiasm, and Zeiliger followed him on to the platform. I thought to myself: surely they're not going to give the prize to Zakharov? Are Poznyakovskaya and Rabinovich really inferior to him? or am I simply biased? I tried to examine myself honestly: would I be afraid to enter the lists against Rabinovich? Or Zakharov? No. But even so, they are probably going to award him a prize. Zeiliger played the same concerto as Rabinovich, the first half with more depth but the second with less brilliance.

Everyone had to leave the hall while the professors considered their verdict. Myself, I would have awarded the prize pianos to Poznyakovskaya, Zeiliger and Rabinovich, but the Areopagus decided otherwise: the first prize did indeed go to Poznyakovskaya, but the other two were awarded to Bai and Motseikevna [Motseikovich]. The hall listened to the unexpected result in silence, and Borusya slipped out almost as soon as the rumour began to soread that he had been passed over. I had no quarrel with Zakharov's wings being slipped, the more so as his talent is not so great as to justify his being put on a pedestal. On the other hand his fall did arouse in me more sympathetic feelings towards him.

Went home at seven o'clock feeling extremely exhausted, but still managed a couple of pages.

excerpt from 'Sergey Prokofiev diaries: 22 April 1913' pp. 376-378 (878 words)

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