I realize that in the
present climate the project of which
the present CD is merely a foretaste
may stretch readers’ incredulity. I
can only state that I am personally
convinced of the veracity of all that
follows and that I have personally met
and shaken hands with Arcangelo Zerensky
himself.
Arcangelo Zerensky,
who owes his appealing name to an Italian
mother and a Polish father, was born
in war-shattered London in 1943. He
was born dumb and blind in one eye.
He had barely been weaned when a bomb
tore apart the family home in East Holborn
and deprived baby Arcangelo of his left
arm. The family sought refuge in the
country where some in-laws of Arcangelo’s
mother, Maria Letizia, had a farm. In
spite of his handicaps Arcangelo was
a lively little toddler, perhaps too
much so, for just before his third birthday
disaster struck again. A close encounter
with a mechanical ploughshare resulted
in his having to have both legs amputated.
Immobile, unable to
utter his thoughts out loud, seemingly
impervious to human communication, Arcangelo
might have been written off as a human
larva. And yet it is often in just such
cases that nature works a miracle, concentrating
all its gifts on the limited human means
available. Barely out of hospital and
in continual pain, Arcangelo now remained
inseparable from the old cottage upright
which his mother’s sister-in-law had
occasionally opened up to give a heartfelt
rendering of "The Maiden’s Prayer".
Virtually untaught, he revealed an uncanny
ability to reproduce on the piano, first
playing the right-hand part, then the
left, any piano record played to him.
And he needed only a single hearing.
No technical difficulty seemed too great;
Chopin Studies, Liszt Studies, Godowsky
Studies, Alkan and Sorabji all poured
from his single hand. Scarcely able
to believe their own ears, his parents
took him to play for a number of luminaries
of the day. Sir Adrian Boult, Sir Malcolm
Sargent, Benjamin Britten, Solomon,
Moiseiwitsch, Herbert von Karajan and
Yehudi Menuhin all testified that here
was genius of the highest order, but
regretted that there seemed no way of
presenting it before the public.
So there matters might
have rested for ever had it not been
for the intervention of a kindly couple
whose Hertfordshire home had a recording
studio annexed with a distinguished
old Steinway which had been played by
Rachmaninov and a Welte-Mignon system
for making piano rolls. I will explain
the importance of this latter in due
course. Here, in the peace and quiet
of rural England, Arcangelo began to
record his repertoire, first setting
down one hand, then superimposing the
other on it in a sort of super-human
duet with himself. His sense of synchronization
was almost infallible and invariably
his first take was his only one. Yet
when the results were presented to him
he rejected them with that shaking of
his head and that sharp snort of his
nostrils which were his only non-musical
means of communicating with the outside
world. For that essential ingredient
of all pianism was missing; the pedal.
Not even his masterly performance of
the Goldberg Variations satisfied him.
The pedal may be used sparingly in Bach,
but few pianists would wish to be denied
it altogether. A strange grunt of pain
on the unpublished master tape remains
to record his reaction.
It was at this point
that the Welte-Mignon system, once used
by Busoni and lovingly restored by the
Hertfordshire couple, came into its
own. There are many who claim that piano
roll systems do not provide a complete
and reliable reproduction of the many
subtleties every artist introduces into
his interpretations. This is a false
impression due to the fact that we practically
never hear a piano roll played back
on the piano at which it was made. It
is obvious that, if you play on one
piano with a technique gauged to another
one, the results will be the lumpy uneven
ones we usually hear. No such problem
was encountered on this occasion and
so Arcangelo was able to cut roll after
roll. And thus the stage was set for
the preservation in sound of some of
the most extraordinary piano-playing
ever heard, as the rolls worked their
magic and Arcangelo hunched beneath
the piano, his single hand creating
pedalling effects of the most unbelievable
subtlety.
Now that the system
had been found Arcangelo proved a quick
worker. In the course of two decades
he set down a repertoire embracing the
entire range of the piano literature,
the extent of which far exceeds that
recently claimed by the late Joyce Hatto.
The fascinating thing is that, while
basing himself on recordings by other
pianists, in his selection from them
he has built up a pianistic personality
which is unique to him alone. I can
testify from my own ears, and from wave-patterns
that I have seen, that his Liszt on
the present sampler-CD is identical
to that of Horowitz, his Chopin to that
of Rubinstein, his Prokofief to that
of Richter, his Bach to that of Gould
and his Cyril Scott to my own, yet the
total result is his and his alone. Such
is the all-embracing genius of this
free-ranging spirit. And to think that
I have actually met and shaken hands
with this man.
Why, then, is this
treasure trove emerging only now? Quite
simply, the Society for Contemporary
Art and Music (SCAM) has never allowed
monetary concerns to dominate its vision.
Here was an extraordinary, yet infinitely
fragile phenomenon. One that should
be allowed to develop and flourish undisturbed.
The time was not yet ripe to present
it to the world. Alas, a new factor
has intervened. There will in all probability
be no further recordings, for disaster
has once more beset Arcangelo’s life.
That beautiful Steinway piano, beloved
of Rachmaninov, and the precious Welte-Mignon
system once used by Busoni, are no more.
Vandals have got them.
Rural Hertfordshire
is affected by a most particular kind
of vandal. You can leave your car out
in the open, unlocked, all night and
it will be as safe from thieves, paint-sprayers
and joy-riders as if it were in a police
compound. Your wife can forget her diamond
necklace on the front seat and it will
be more secure than it would be in a
bank vault. But if you have a musical
instrument of some value, there’s not
a nuclear bunker or a combination lock
in this world that will keep them away
from it. It was bound to happen and
it has happened. Arcangelo’s life’s
blood has been drawn from him. At this
point SCAM have decided, quite rightly,
to allow him at least to reap the fruits
of his labours.
It’s an extraordinary
story and this is an extraordinary record.
One that should not be missed.
Christopher Howell
Arcangelo Zerensky (piano)
