The Lion of Poland: The Story of Paderewski — David Hume — John Shaqi
The Lion of Poland: The Story of Paderewski
David Hume · en
Paderewski’s bleak conviction that the American tour might be his last
happily proved to be mistaken. Actually it was only the first of twenty
triumphant tours during which he would play more than fifteen hundred
concerts for more than five million people. Only one other person has
ever equaled his success at the box office—the beloved soprano, Amelita
Galli-Curci. The two artists still stand supreme as the greatest
money-makers in the musical history of America.
During those American tours, Paderewski did much more than make music
and money. He also made friends in high places—firm, devoted friends who
respected him for his great spirit as well as for his fleet fingers. And
he captured the imagination and affection of the American public as no
other artist has ever done.
How to describe Paderewski’s electrifying effect on the public! Many
people have tried. Arthur Loesser, in his fascinating book, MEN, WOMEN
AND PIANOS, does it as well as anyone. He says: “The most flaming
pianistic glory in America’s history broke out when the Steinways first
put forth Ignace Paderewski in the autumn of 1891. He was indeed a
performer of very high ability, an artist of unusual expressive power;
yet that was only one element of his peculiar appeal. His total
personality was just what, in the American idea, a concert pianist’s
ought to be, if one were to marvel at him and respect him at the same
time. His chrysanthemum of pale red hair, the feminine dreaminess and
brooding of his looks coupled with his aggressive, solid muscularity—all
this was strange and might have seemed ridiculous to Philistines. But
the reserve of his bearing, the hypnotic deliberateness and lordly
courtesy of his movements, were the signs of a profound inner dignity
before which a measure of awe could not fail to be felt. He seemed,
verily, the prince of a foreign realm. No pianist has ever captured the
American imagination as he did, keeping his hold over it for thirty
years. He became a legend: his mispronounced name drew farmers from
their barns, schoolboys from their baseball, real estate speculators
from their offices—all manner of unlikely persons from their dens—into a
concert hall to have a look and a listen at him.”
The day would come when Paderewski’s hold over the affection of the
American public would mean more to him—and to his country—than he could
even begin to imagine as he sailed back to Europe at the end of his
first visit to America.
CHAPTER 5
A PROMISE FULFILLED
[Illustration: Quill pen.]