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Around the middle of fall of that extremely eventful year, Sergiu Comissiona, conductor and artistic manager of the CCS ensemble at that time, invited me to be the soloist of the symphonic concert he was preparing to conduct at the end of January 1954. I started practicing with Mrs. Cionca again; we rehearsed Bach’s Concerto in F minor at two pianos. Slowly but surely, I got back into my ‘old’ shape. At the same time, I was rehearsing pieces for recitals. The day of my ‘reentering the arena’ was drawing near. The concerts on 30th and 31st January were a milestone in Bucharest’s musical life. Initially, only one performance had been scheduled on Sunday, 30th January, at 4:45pm. Facing an unexpected demand for tickets, they decided to schedule a second concert on 31st January. Moreover, on the eve of the concert, they even decided to have a third performance on 1st February. Despite the bad weather and the difficult traffic, the hall was overcrowded. In the honor row at the balcony sat President Petru Groza accompanied by his daughter, Mia, whom I think I met on that occasion. Maestro Jora, who had come back after a five-year ban, got endless standing ovations when finishing his suite ‘Cand strugurii se coc’ [‘When Grapes Become Ripe’]. The general enthusiasm was absolutely contagious.
On 20th December 1954 I gave my first recital at the Romanian Athenaeum. It was a very important moment in my career as a soloist. My program included no less than eight composers: Scarlatti, Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Ravel, Enesco, Prokofiev, and Gershwin. In a time when censorship was at its peak, they didn’t weigh only words, they also weighed music. Georges Enesco’s music wasn’t officially banned, but it was… omitted. The heads of the censorship couldn’t eliminate him from the draft of my program – ‘Toccata’ from Suite op. 10 – all they could do was reluctantly approve him. My ‘act of bravery’ was later described in Lucian Voiculescu’s book ‘Oedipe’ [‘Oedipus’], in a chapter where he mentioned the ‘bold ones’ who had the guts to play Enesco’s music during his self-imposed exile. Finally, we get to the other George in my program, Gershwin. Well, things were not at all simpler with him. The reason why the Radio had ‘banned’ me in 1948 was my allegedly playing a kind of music that was ‘unwanted by the audience.’ In other words, they were referring to George Gershwin. Nevertheless, after a few years of imprisonment, Dan Mizrahy included in his program for a recital at the Romanian Athenaeum, under the aegis of the State Philharmonic, the one and only ‘Rhapsody in Blue.’ In the day that followed my recital the afternoon newspaper ‘Informatia Bucurestiului’ published my photo on the front page, together with a few eulogistic words.
The school gave me a warm welcome – the principal, my old colleagues, and many other new ones who had been appointed while I had been away. The building couldn’t cope with the number of students and teachers, so they had been given a second one, on Lipscani Street; it actually belonged to the ‘Ciprian Porumbescu’ Conservatoire, but they had temporarily given a number of classrooms to the ‘Intermediate Music School.’ One year later the school moved to Principatele Unite Street, where it still functions today, under the name of ‘Dinu Lipatti’ Music High School. In the five years that followed my career went up. Invited as a soloist by the local philharmonics, invited by the Radio Broadcasting Company to play in concerts and give recitals, I got to be known nationwide.
On 20th December 1954 I gave my first recital at the Romanian Athenaeum. It was a very important moment in my career as a soloist. My program included no less than eight composers: Scarlatti, Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Ravel, Enesco, Prokofiev, and Gershwin. In a time when censorship was at its peak, they didn’t weigh only words, they also weighed music. Georges Enesco’s music wasn’t officially banned, but it was… omitted. The heads of the censorship couldn’t eliminate him from the draft of my program – ‘Toccata’ from Suite op. 10 – all they could do was reluctantly approve him. My ‘act of bravery’ was later described in Lucian Voiculescu’s book ‘Oedipe’ [‘Oedipus’], in a chapter where he mentioned the ‘bold ones’ who had the guts to play Enesco’s music during his self-imposed exile. Finally, we get to the other George in my program, Gershwin. Well, things were not at all simpler with him. The reason why the Radio had ‘banned’ me in 1948 was my allegedly playing a kind of music that was ‘unwanted by the audience.’ In other words, they were referring to George Gershwin. Nevertheless, after a few years of imprisonment, Dan Mizrahy included in his program for a recital at the Romanian Athenaeum, under the aegis of the State Philharmonic, the one and only ‘Rhapsody in Blue.’ In the day that followed my recital the afternoon newspaper ‘Informatia Bucurestiului’ published my photo on the front page, together with a few eulogistic words.
The school gave me a warm welcome – the principal, my old colleagues, and many other new ones who had been appointed while I had been away. The building couldn’t cope with the number of students and teachers, so they had been given a second one, on Lipscani Street; it actually belonged to the ‘Ciprian Porumbescu’ Conservatoire, but they had temporarily given a number of classrooms to the ‘Intermediate Music School.’ One year later the school moved to Principatele Unite Street, where it still functions today, under the name of ‘Dinu Lipatti’ Music High School. In the five years that followed my career went up. Invited as a soloist by the local philharmonics, invited by the Radio Broadcasting Company to play in concerts and give recitals, I got to be known nationwide.
Period
Location
Bucharest
Romania
Interview
Dan Mizrahy