Sviatoslav Richter: I do not like myself
Daily Comfort ZoneA chilling late reflection from the most compelling pianist of the 20th century.
Apparently taken from Bruno Monsaingeon’s film.
All the more chilling for being seen in isolation.
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It really should not be shown. It helps nobody.
Thirty years ago he was in rehearsal at Suntory Hall for the Tchaikovsky concerto with the Kirov Orchestra. He decided, however, not to play. He knew best, after flying, settling in and beginning. At the door we were each given an envelope with ¥9,000 in cash to compensate for the switch to a program without soloist. That is, about US $180,000 for the hall, in bank notes, on the night. Such was the trust and the reverence. There was of course not a whisper of complaint. He died three years later.
I was told by his Japanese management that Richter hated flying and then when he made his tours in Japan he took the train from his home in Russia.
Why do some pianists burden music, which is in itself so expressive in its simplicity, with loads of tragic, dramatic emotion? They do something opposite of what the music does. This is the inheritance of 19C romanticism.
I wish they hadn’t translated it like this. Here he is reading from his diary (as he does through the movie), about some concert he gave, and what he says must be understood as “I wasn’t great”. That’s notwithstanding what he thought of himself in general.
Classical music surely has a penchant for drama. Trivial statements in interviews are treated as profound wisdom. Is it because we expect musicians to be conduits of higher truth, a view that was not common until the reification of Beethoven in the Romantic period?
Not just classical music. It’s our worship of fame, like Duchamp’s urinal. I’m sure Richter would mock this if he’s still alive.
Wow. Chilling indeed.
I just watched the full long film available on youtube and found it totally fascinating. We see his interaction with many contemporary artists and hear his views on composers and events in his life. I had no idea that Prokofiev’s favourite composer was Haydn, nor that Richter preferred Haydn to Mozart, even though we see him performing part of the Mozart Sonata for 2 pianos at Aldeburgh with Benjamin Brittten whose music he adored.
I am curious, though, about the comment at the end “I do not like myself”. In the full film, this is made as I have written in inverted commas. None of his many other comments throughout the film appear similarly as ” “. Yet in the clip above, these inverted commas do not appear. I wonder why they are in the full version but not in the clip, for it appears in the film to be a quote from someone – but not Richter. I accept that it comes after he has expressed his concern about ageing and his loss of perfect pitch. But nothing else that precedes it seems to indicate he disliked himself.
Hasn’t there been controversy over this ending? I recall a claim that the editing made the statement seem more general and more severe than it really was. Supposedly, his comment was about a specific performance and could have been more accurately translated to say that he wasn’t satisfied with himself.
That’s precisely correct. Here he is reading a snippet of a diary entry following an unsuccessful concert, in an ostentatiously comical student-like voice, something that ought to be translated as “I am not satisfied with myself” (ostensibly on account of the bad concert, and in the present tense, it being a diary entry). The entrance of the Schubert slow movement in the soundtrack only augments the “depressiveness”, where it reality there is none.
Chilling, and sad, to be sure, and not entirely inconsistent with aspects of the Richter life story, especially his later years, but we also have to keep in mind that the Bruno Monsaingeon documentaries 1) have their own point of view and 2) are assembled artifacts (I suppose they could be called art works) and even a modest bit of re arranging of quotes and visuals can convey messages that might not have been observed in “real time.” I’d make similar observations about Monsaingeon’s “Artist of the People?” [note the question mark] bio of David Oistrakh which I reviewed for Fanfare magazine many years ago.
it is indeed (not apparently) from this fascinating portrayal. however, it’s been suggested that bruno monsaingeon edited this one line from another conversation with richter and placed it here for the stunning effect it has. not a criticism of this brilliant filmmaker, but in the world of documentaries, it happens all the time.
One of the very few in the music world that chose NOT to shake hands with Satan.
A classic item from a questionnaire for clinical depression.
That’s very sad, if not also voyeuristic. Why should we remember an artist, a person, like that.
The entire film (and it is melancholic if not chilling):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNmb7It0G7c&t=27s
How very sad. Richter was a pianistic giant of the twentieth century.
Richter was well past his prime when that Schubert was recorded. And it shows. As to him not like himself; that’s a revealing and honest assessment for the man who hung around gay haunts and who was known to be physically involved in brawls. Demeaning stuff.
Richter was not past his prime at the time of this performance which I believe was from the time of his last recording in the 1970s-no glasses and no sheet music.
Coming from one of the greatest pianists of the 20th century (even Artur Rubinstein referred to him as “the king of us all”), I find this statement more distressingly sad than chilling. Poor man.
It has been suggested—I’d have to dig for the source–that language barrier/translation nuances may have blurred the sense of what Richer meant. IIRC the source was a Russian speaker who noted something to the effect that a more accurate rendering may be that Richer meant he was never satisfied or happy with his playing or performances, that this always fell short in his self-estimation. According to this doc and his published letters or notes, Richter could be brutally acerbic in his estimation of other musicians, but even harder on himself.
But let’s say the quote did express a deep division in the self of this artist. Would that be surprising? People may not remember or understand the unimaginable tragedy, trauma and loss that marked Slava Richter’s early childhood and youth. Followed by the unimaginable stresses of living and surviving in a culture and regime where his very nature was potentially a crime punishable by death. There is no way someone is not deeply affected by experiences of this kind. But Richter did not come from a time or place where people waxed Freudian or therapeutic or expressive about these things, or talked about them, and allowed themselves to feel or work through trauma and grief. Our contemporary world has become accustomed to brilliant and troubled talents who are spectacularly melted down by their early traumas and join the “27 Club” like a Kurt Cobain or a Jean-Michel Basquiat. In contrast to a person like Richter gave immortal art to the world for many decades while carrying and holding incalculable burdens behind that very stoic and private facade often termed enigmatic by onlookers.
An invaluable companion to the Monsaingeon film is the remarkable long-form nonfiction piece by Errol Morris for the New York Times titled “The Pianist and the Lobster.” Weirdly, it was produced in NYT’s “Op-Ed” section and headed an “Opinion” piece. When in actuality it’s like a monograph or documentary in letters. Done online, with gorgeous animated graphics and art, with audio clips interspersed at intervals in the text. An amazing investigation and rumination on the profound mystery of art and human character.
Maybe, just maybe, an anti-depressant would have helped him.
Bless his soul. What I hear in Richter’s words is that for him performing music was a sublime experience – it was the ‘immanent’ slumps in between performances, when we self-reflect, that could be unbearably difficult. I think all musicians can relate to this, and indeed that’s why we became musicians in the first place – when performing, we escape the cycle of self-reflection, and can freely radiate ourselves outwards into the world, even if just for a few hours.
A picture of deep depression. How tragic.
I think that deep down he would have really wanted to be a composer.