Leopold Godowsky | Buddha the Obscure

(1870-1938)

"No lapidary ever practiced his craft with more finesse than did Leopold Godowsky the art of music. With fastidious precision Godowsky set to paper a great series of original works, transcriptions and paraphrases. To look at them is to be hypnotized by their complex perfection; to hear them is to experience romantic pianism at its outer limits." - Frank Cooper

Buddha the Obscure

Against criticism a man can neither protest nor defend himself;
he must act in spite of it, and then it will gradually yield to him.

        - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

When pianist-composer Leopold Godowsky turned up missing in September of 1915, his wife believed he was lost, possibly the victim of amnesia. Fortunately he was found a week later, in perfect health. However, sixty-five years after his death, Godowsky has in fact fallen victim to amnesia; not his own, but history's. The twentieth century has all but erased the legacy of one of the brightest minds to have ever illuminated the music world. If it holds true that prophets are seldom heeded in their own time, then Godowsky-the Apostle of the Left Hand-was not only disregarded but branded the Judas of the music world.¹ His supposed crime? Betraying the musical Messiah Frédéric Chopin in the collection of transcriptions 53 Studien über die Etüden von Chopin (1893-1914).
         For over one hundred years, critics have condemned the innovative Studien as monstrous perversions, a sort of magnum opus of bad taste. Pianist and self-appointed virtuecrat Peter Cooper typifies this arrogance:

The arch-arranger Leopold Godowsky made one of the worst offences against artistic taste when he 'arranged' the Chopin Studies to make them more difficult. He made a nauseous cocktail from the two G flat studies of Op.10 and Op.25; took the elegiac Study in E flat minor Op.10, a wonderful essay in tone-colour between melody and accompaniment, and transformed the left hand into tasteless swirling figuration.²

He goes on to describe Godowsky's Strauss Metamorphosen as "effusive concoctions" that "still have an appeal to unsophisticated audiences." ³ Mr. Cooper is a prime example of those miserably mindless zealots who frame the transcription debate as "virtue over virtuosity." His pretentious prattling is insignificant because it assumes that those who believe Godowsky to be a distinguished artist are somehow uncivilized or unintelligent; people like Sergei Rachmaninoff, Isidor Philipp, Josef Hofmann, Albert Einstein, Karol Szymanowski, Jascha Heifetz and that leviathan of musicological integrity, Charles Rosen, who just so happens to have recorded one of those "effusive concoctions," Wein, Weib und Gesang.
         Even those who support the art of transcription are prone to tomsnobbery. Wagner greatly admired Liszt's transcription of the Tannhäuser Overture, but scoffed at the Rienzi paraphrase, whose liberal treatment of the themes crossed his threshold for artistic pain. When Valery Kuleshov released an album of Horowitz transcriptions, the debate was not that his playing was disappointingly flat, but whether anyone but Horowitz was worthy of playing them. Are we to sanction who can and cannot play these gems? This is the same dangerously high-minded thinking that attempts to squelch transcriptions in the first place by arbitrating ambiguous, self-important "rights" and "wrongs." Find me any pianist who thinks they can outplay Horowitz at his own game and I'll find you a pompous performer soon to lose their 'witz about them. Even Arcadi Volodos, who does a Vladmirable job, would acknowledge there is no matching the venerated master, nor is there any realistic intention of doing so. I suppose one could reduce any artistic endeavor to egotism, but playing Bizet/Horowitz, Schubert/Liszt or Chopin/Godowsky is not only about the performer; it brings to life a time-honored celebration of what being a pianist entails: creativity, spontaneity, craftsmanship, virtuosity, style and-God forbid-a well-needed dose of personality.
         The problem with creating the hierarchy of "high" and "low" art is that it is impossible to defend against the countless exceptions and incomparables that prove its very impotence. I can recall asking a hopelessly misguided pianist why he thought Busoni's Carmen transcription was better than Horowitz'. After a few seconds of squirming he shot back with a scorching "well, it just is...it's not as cheap." Unfortunately, his playing was as weak as his defense. Further discussion revealed he thought of Busoni's as the "legitimate" piece due in part to its title of Sonatina. If legitimacy of form is the issue, Horowitz' variations follow Bizet's original more closely than does Busoni's paraphrase, which, like those looked down upon by Wagner, weaves together numerous themes from the opera in a more improvisatory manner. But fine, if it's a title you want, an honorable title ye shall receive. Let us tastefully rename the Horowitz Variations on a Theme from Bizet's Carmen to Tombeau Flambée de Bizet.
         Why are we so maniacally conditioned to think of transcribing as a "lesser" art? Why are we so threatened by this genuine outlet for creativity? Since when has a transcription usurped the popularity of its original? Godowsky's transcription of Albeniz' Tango is often chosen over its ancestor, but it certainly has not replaced the original. (would anyone ever insert Godowsky's version in the middle of a performance of España?) The Blue Danube remains the waltz king despite Schulz-Evler's popular piano arrangement. Busoni's Chaconne not only makes for a noble recital opener but inevitably elucidates the majesty of Bach's original violin masterpiece. Moreover, transcriptions have been the source and inspiration for some of piano literature's most convincing and inventive styles and techniques. I defy anyone to remain unmoved after a commanding performance of Stravinsky's Petrouchka or suppress a genuine smile after Grigory Ginsburg's romp of Rossini's Largo ad Factotum or even resist clamoring to one's feet after a blistering rendition of Liszt's La Campanella.
         In a 1967 issue of Clavier magazine, the cranky Felix De Cola declared that the Godowsky Studien "hardly warrant the tremendous labor required to master them" ⁴ and later concluded "practicing these difficult arrangements-let alone playing them in concert-is a pathetic waste of time and energy." ⁵ I would be remiss if I didn't mention that, in tiny print, Clavier revealed "Felix, though a serious musician, is best known as an entertainer." ⁶ Entertaining he most certainly is. Contrary to all of the hearsay, there is nothing of Godowsky that would require the octave technique of, say, Liszt's Sonata in B minor or Hungarian Rhapsody No.6, yet these works are programmed all the time. There is no single piece that would require the physical stamina of a Tchaikovsky First or Rachmaninoff Third Concerto, yet every wide-eyed student worth their salt will waste no time slaving over these warhorses. The "tremendous labor" about which De Cola lamented is not the kind that spills blood or wrenches guts. Godowsky's music requires its own artistic arsenal; a comprehensive technique that is not necessarily steroidal, but disciplined, versatile and polyphonic; one in which the pedal is used not in spite of the fingers, but in conjunction with them. Last but not least, integral to a Godowskian technique is a persuasive sense of irony, wit and charm-the very qualities most of Godowsky's detractors lack.
         It might interest Mr. De Cola that Rachmaninoff performed Godowsky's Kunsterleben Metamorphosis or that Josef Hofmann recommended practicing Godowsky's music because it achieves a "legato...so perfect it may well be taken as a model by anybody." ⁷ Now wouldn't it stand to reason that these keyboard giants would not make a habit out of "wasting their time and energy?" And wouldn't it also stand to reason that if Godowsky were part of their repertoire that something could be gleaned from this music-some of the most purely pianistic music ever conceived? If it is music for "common mortals" Mr. De Cola so desperately desires, then look no further than the relatively safe musings of Kalkbrenner, Fumagalli or Herz. But for those who strive for more-for immortality-then the road to nirvana begins with the Buddha, Leopold Godowsky. ⁸
         Amidst these tiresome querelles, it is easily forgotten that practically half of Godowsky's output consists of original works, most of them, like Chopin, for piano alone. Among them are a precocious Polonaise (1889), a graceful Toccata (1899), a teutonic Sonata in E minor (1911), the engaging Walzermasken (1912), an astounding musical journey entitled Java Suite (1925), a monumental Passacaglia (1928), an ingenious Prelude and Fugue on BACH for left hand alone (1929), along with numerous other études, character pieces and pedagogical treasures.
         If one believes that any press is good press, then the critics at least did some good by cementing Godowsky's name in infamy. The history books, however, have fought him with the loudest argument of all: omission. If the aim of John Gillespie's Five Centuries of Keyboard Music is to "bring into focus composers who have written unusually attractive music or influenced the course of keyboard literature" ⁹ then without a doubt he has a bad case of blurred vision. Godowsky's name does not appear once in the entire five-hundred-page text. But it's understandable, Gillespie is far too busy informing us, for example, that d'Indy pupil Déodat de Sévérac "did not devote a great deal of time to keyboard composition." ¹⁰ How profoundly relevant. Surely this meaningful morsel is more necessary than any mention of Godowsky, who was considered by Rachmaninoff as "the only musician of his age to give a lasting, a real contribution to the development of piano music." ¹¹ Is it even remotely realistic to find the piano music of Ludwig Schytte (aptly named), Claude Champagne and Emil Sjögren more attractive and/or influential than that of Godowsky? While there is no accounting for taste, there is accounting for the positively profound impact Godowsky had on the art of the piano composition. From the south-paw supremacy of Ravel's Concerto for the Left Hand to the contrapuntal wizardry of Rachmaninoff's Kreisler transcriptions, Godowsky's mark is as clear as the brand on a steer's backside. Brethren, to write a keyboard literature text without Leopold Godowsky is to write a Bible minus an apostle.
         Written in the late 1960s, Gillespie's book reflects the iron-willed anti-Romantic sentiments which helped bring to an end the Golden Age of the Piano (ca. 1900-1950). That was then, this is now. The last quarter century has witnessed a Godowsky renaissance, spurred by titanic figures such as Jorge Bolet, Earl Wild and Marc-André Hamelin. Since 1989, the first three recordings of the complete Studien have surfaced, along with the first biography. In 1995, Marco Polo records announced that Konstantin Scherbakov was engaged to record the entire Godowsky oeuvre. More and more performers and enthusiasts are discovering and rediscovering his music and with it an exceptional art worthy of celebrating and sustaining.
         Despite the resurgence in Godowskiana, general insensitivity remains. F. E. Kirby's revision of the historical text Music for Piano (Hal Leonard, 1995) still makes no mention of the polyphonic Pole. In 2001, BBC Music Magazine reviewed a recording containing Godowsky's Valse Macabre for cello and piano, stating "the range of moods and styles is wide, ranging from the Baroque to the present, and from the lightest of musical confectionery to the most haunting and moving (and who would have expected the latter from Leopold Godowsky?)" ¹² I'll tell you who: anyone who has the foresight to extract their head from their shady posterior and realize Godowsky's output extends light years beyond Alt Wien-that's who. Bryce Morrison unabashedly assessed Godowsky's craft by declaring "such music is not profound: its very task is to weave ornate and seductive fabrics from the slightest and most insignificant materials. Can one, such virtuosity seems to ask, make something momentous out of a Strauss waltz? Or dare one, on the other hand, decorate and dazzlingly extend an already flawless composition such as a Chopin Etude?" ¹³ To assume that Godowsky regarded the Chopin Études as flawed compositions is not only idiotic but it completely misses the point. The Studien are not "improvements" but rather explorations and meditations upon universal truths. They are fantastic essays divinely and delicately demonstrating that the impossible is very much within our grasp. The fact that they are based upon extant masterpieces is not an act of insolence, but a testament to his humility and reverence for his musical heritage. Godowsky readily acknowledged the Chopin Études as the "highest attainment in the realm of beautiful pianoforte music combined with indespensible [sic] mechanical and technical usefulness" ¹⁴ and they are likely to retain that distinguished honor until the end of time. So sleep tight little virtuecrats; if a musically inclined alien one thousand years from now were to look back and evaluate nineteenth-century piano literature, they would not confuse the Godowsky transcriptions as superior compositions.
         With that said, I offer a plea for the twenty-first century: let's move on. If Stephen Hough wishes to transcribe Richard Rodgers, Earl Wild the Mexican Hat Dance Song or Christopher O'Reilly Radiohead tunes, so be it. We should question whether these pieces are remarkable, not whether they are necessary. To create is necessary; we can all agree with that. As Carl Fischer republishes much of Godowsky's music, it is time to re-examine one of the truly titanic figures in the history of the piano.
¹ "The Apostle of the Left Hand" was the nickname given to Godowsky by writer James Gibbons Huneker. Godowsky made the most significant contribution to the development of literature for piano, left hand alone.
² Peter Cooper, Style in Piano Playing (London: John Calder, 1975), 166.
³ Ibid., 166.
⁴ Felix De Cola, "The Elegant Art: Playing the Piano with the Left Hand Alone," Clavier (March 1967): 25-26.
⁵ "The Sounding Board," Clavier (December 1967): 4.
⁶ De Cola, "The Elegant Art," 25.
⁷ Josef Hofmann, Piano Questions Answered (New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1976), 23.
⁸ James Gibbons Huneker dubbed Godowsky "The Brahma of the Keyboard" in The New York Times, April 1919.
⁹ John Gillespie, Five Centuries of Keyboard Music (New York: Dover Publications, Inc,. 1965), vii-viii.
¹⁰ Ibid., 303.
¹¹ Reprinted in Millan Sachania, "Leopold Godowsky: A Biographical Sketch" in The Godowsky Collection Vol.4 (New York: Carl Fischer, 2003), xxix.
¹² "Minor Miracles," BBC Music Magazine (December 2001): 98.
¹³ Bryce Morrison, "Notes on the Grand Romantic Virtuosos and After..." in The Book of the Piano, Dominic Gill, ed., (Cornell University Press: Ithaca, 1976), 115.
¹⁴ Leopold Godowsky, "Personals Remarks," reprinted in The Godowsky Collection, Vol.3 (New York: Carl Fischer, 2002), 6.