BALTIMORE, May 7, 2013- There was a moment in Julius Klengel's life when he placed his superb personal reputation on the line to make a stunning recommendation, a recommendation that could do him no personal good but could easily inflict a lifetime of irreparable harm. The year was 1919 and the music conservatory at Cologne, Germany had lost its well-known and distinguished Cello Professor to an unexpected death and wanted Klengel's choice for the replacement. Klengel (1859-1933) was not only one of the leading cellists of his age, he was also the best teacher of cello technique, bowing and, for that matter, all things cello. What's more, he had by far the best collection of students. Whomever he selected would doubtlessly be the choice as the new professor at Cologne, which itself was one of the oldest and best music conservatories of its age. Klengel's choice, however, would do nothing less than rock the classical music world. His unequivocal choice to be the lead cello professor at one of the world's best schools was a 16-year-old Emanuel Feuermann. The governing body at Cologne was shocked. Actually flabbergasted would be a better world, and a few were literally appalled. As a group they wrote back to Klengel, questioning how a 16-year-old could be ready for such a position. Klengel was unswayed. He wrote back from his teaching position at Leipzig to say that the wonderkund Feuermann was so far superior to other choices that his young age should not stand in the way. Feuermann, who despite his tragic death 23 years later at age 39, is today regarded by many as the greatest cellist ever. In short order he was appointed to the Cologne position in 1919. Eventually, even critics applauded the unexpected success of the choice. Students, at first piqued by Feuermann's age, learned to look past the young man's age to his shocking virtuosity and realized that to be in his presence was to be in the presence of genius. And only a genius could recognize such reciprocal talent. Only a giant would have the nerve to make such a recommendation.
Today, sadly, and really, almost tragically when you consider the consequences of it, Klengel is but a footnote in musical history. His brilliant compositions are still in repertoire, but not to the degree they deserve, and his greatest work, the Double Cello Concerto, once recognized as being on a par with Brahm's Double Conerto for Violin and Cello (the recording by Feuermann and Jasca Heifitz is the benchmark for the work), is hardly ever performed in concert. A modern recording of the work is recently available with Xenia Jankovic And Christoph Richter as the Cellists. and the Radio-Philharmonie Hannover as the Symphony. It is superb. Today, the Cello Concerto in B Minor by Dvorak is recognized as one of the greatest ever, and deservedly so. But it is played so often that it is almost beaten into the ground. Every cellist of note records it. But a detective is required to find many of Klengel's works; look on You Tube for videos of the great works and I think there is one - for twelve cellos - to be found.
Cellists as a lot are the stepchildren of the classical music world. It is the violin that much of the great chamber music is composed for, and it is the violin that gets the billing when the world's great composers write their concertos. In a concerto the great virtuosos perform with the great symphony orchestras. The music uses the full rich sound of the symphony orchestra to highlight the virtuosity of the solo instrument player. So, when the billing says Hilary Hahn and the New York Philharmonic, you know the highlight of the performance will be a Concerto that allows Hahn to show off her stunning skills along with one of the World's greatest orchestras. And what could be more mournful or soulful than a great violin solo, or more joyful than Bach's Paritas. Well, if you want to know. and of course, selection is totally subjective, I would vote for Bach's Cello Suites, which are, in turn, oh so joyful, oh so contemplative, oh so beautiful. When you hear them for the first time, performed by a great cellist, you will be stunned to know that the music you hear is by one artist and one instrument.
That we today have a firmer idea of how Bach intended 'the Suites' to sound is the remarkable product of the scholarship and musical detective work of the other cellist you should know: Dimitri Markevitch. Back in, I think, 1964, he was the first virtuoso to perform the six suites, in order and in their entirety, at Carnegie Hall. He authored a wonderful history of the cello and the men and women who play the instrument. "Cello Story," and somehow unearthed previously unknown works for cello by, among others, Beethoven. The Bach detective work is astounding. Into modern times, the only somewhat original copy of the Suites was a hand-written copy by Bach's female friend. At one juncture, the copy is so bad that cellists for centuries only guessed at what was supposed to be in that place. Markevitch, fluent in several languages, began nosing around the archives at several Lutheran Churches in Germany that stand now and stood then, then being at the time of Bach (1685-1750). Low and behold, he uncovered two different copies of the Suites, made by music directors alive at the time. And Markevitch didn't merely gloat about his discoveries. Using his new information, he published a new edition of the Suites incorporating the two new copies, which had other information about how Bach wanted them played besides the missing notes.
Markevitch also recorded the Suites using the new information. If you look hard enough, you can still find the recordings. He also recorded Beethoven's seven cello sonatas. If you're a cellist, you know that most experts only accept that there are six. Some even say five. But Markevitch found a work that was written for another instrument but which Beethoven, in his own hand, wrote a note explaining that the work was also meant to be played as a cello sonata.
Markevitch was a wonderful man, a true humanist, who, in addition to everything else he delved into, also collected music written for the cello. Cellists have complained, from time to time, that the repertory for cello is somewhat bare. I personally don't believe that. Feuermann was one of the great cellists who often searched for more cello music, and cellists, on their recordings, often play a violin sonata adopted for the cello. On the other hand, some really beautiful cello works were ignored for years because of the supposed difficulty of the piece. The great French composer, Jean Barriére (1707-1747) wrote stunning, technically sophisticated cello music that was over-looked for years until recorded in the last two decades by the German Cellist Thomas Demenga and the French Cellist, Bruno Cocset.
At any rate, Markevitch directly addressed the perceived problem. His collection of cello scores is said to be the largest in the world. Markevitch died in 2002 and several renowned institutions the world over vied for his collection, including several in the United States. After much wrangling, they have ended up in Switzerland, at the Geneva Conservatory, where he resided at the time of his passing. The Conservatory has promised to put an index on line and they have posted a site where the index will eventually be. Now, it has some information about Mr. Markevitch, his life and the cello library. See: http://www.cmusge.ch/biblio/cmg/Markevitch_en.htm.
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