Ad: netjeff recommends
rShopping
app for Android, for your shopping list needs.
(This review by Kenneth Langbell appeared in the English Language
BangkokPost. It was made available by Martin Bernheimer of the Los
Angeles Times.)
THE RECITAL, last evening in the chamber music room of the
Erawan Hotel by US Pianist Myron Kropp, the first appearance of Mr. Kropp in
Bangkok, can only be described by this reviewer and those who witnessed Mr.
Kropp's performance as one of the most interesting experiences in a very
long time.
A hush fell over the room as Mr. Kropp appeared from the right
of the stage, attired in black formal evening-wear with a small white
poppy in his lapel. With sparse, sandy hair, a sallow complexion and a
deceptively frail looking frame, the man who has repopularized Johann Sebastian Bach
approached the Baldwin Concert Grand, bowed to the audience and
placed himself upon the stool.
It might be appropriate to insert at this juncture that many
pianists, including Mr. Kropp, prefer a bench, maintaining that on a
screw-type stool they sometimes find themselves turning sideways during a
particularly expressive strain. There was a slight delay, in fact, as Mr Kropp
left the stage briefly, apparently in search of a bench, but returned when
informed that there was none.
AS I HAVE mentioned on several other occasions, the Baldwin Concert
Grand, while basically a fine instrument, needs constant attention,
particularly in a climate such as Bangkok. This is even more true
when the instrument is as old as the one provided in the chamber music room
of the Erawan Hotel. In this humidity the felts which separate the white
keys from the black tend to swell, causing an occasional key to stick, which
apparently was the case last evening with the D in the second
octave.
During the "raging storm" section of the D-Minor Toccata and Fugue, Mr.
Kropp must be complimented for putting up with the awkward D.
However, by the time the "storm" was past and he had gotten into the Prelude
and Fugue in D Major, in which the second octave D plays a major role, Mr.
Kropp's patience was wearing thin.
Some who attended the performance later questioned whether the awkward
key justified some of the language which was heard coming from the stage
during softer passages of the fugue. However, one member of the
audience, who had sent his children out of the room by the midway point of
the fugue, had a valid point when he commented over the music and
extemporaneous remarks of Mr. Kropp that the workman who had greased the stool
might have done better to use some of the grease on the second octave D.
Indeed, Mr. Kropp's stool had more than enough grease and during one passage in
which the music and lyrics were both particularly violent, Mr. Kropp was
turned completely around. Whereas before his remarks had been aimed
largely at the piano and were therefore somewhat muted, to his surprise and that
of those in the chamber music room he found himself addressing himself
directly to the audience.
BUT SUCH THINGS do happen, and the person who began to laugh deserves to
be severely reprimanded for this undignified behavior. Unfortunately,
laughter is contagious, and by the time it had subsided and the
audience had regained its composure Mr. Kropp appeared somewhat shaken.
Nevertheless, he swiveled himself back into position facing the piano and, leaving
the D Major Fugue unfinished, commenced on the Fantasia and Fugue in G
Minor.
Why the concert grand piano's G key in the third octave chose that
particular time to begin sticking I hesitate to guess. However, it
is certainly safe to say that Mr. Kropp himself did nothing to help
matters when he began using his feet to kick the lower portion of the piano
instead of operating the pedals as is generally done.
Possibly it was this jarring or the un-Bach-like hammering to which the
sticking keyboard was being subjected. Something caused the right
front leg of the piano to buckle slightly inward, leaving the entire
instrument listing at approximately a 35-degree angle from that which is
normal. A gasp went up from the audience, for if the piano had actually
fallen several of Mr. Kropp's toes if not both his feet, would surely have been
broken.
It was with a sigh of relief therefore, that the audience saw Mr. Kropp
slowly rise from his stool and leave the stage. A few men in the
back of the room began clapping and when Mr. Kropp reappeared a moment later it
seemed he was responding to the ovation. Apparently, however, he had left
to get a red-handled fire ax which was hung back stage in case of fire, for
that was what was in his hand.
MY FIRST REACTION at seeing Mr. Kropp begin to chop at the left leg
of the grand piano was that he was attempting to make it tilt at the same
angle as the right leg and thereby correct the list. However, when the
weakened legs finally collapsed altogether with a great crash and Mr. Kropp
continued to chop, it became obvious to all that he had no intention of going on
with the concert.
The ushers, who had heard the snapping of piano wires and splintering of
sounding board from the dining room, came rushing in and, with the
help of the hotel manager, two Indian watchmen and a passing police
corporal, finally succeeded in disarming Mr. Kropp and dragging him off the
stage.