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Evenings with Horowitz: A Personal Portrait
“Dubal, broadcaster, concert pianist, and faculty member at Juilliard, draws upon his knowledgeable background to produce a fascinating portrait of the brilliant and electrifying pianist Vladimir Horowitz...Discussions ensued on repertoire, stylistic interpretations, tastes of audiences, other famous pianists, favored composers, and even such non-musical topics as care of animals, modern-day presidents, and American youth. Dubal provides a rare and intimate glimpse of Horowitz and illustrates the precariousness of accommodating the temperament of a genius.”, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Library Journal
- GenresMusicBiographyNonfiction
370 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1991
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
March 27, 2012
Two things stand out about this book, which is the result of Juilliard professor David Dubal's friendship and conversations with Vladimir and Wanda Horowitz over the course of several years. First, the Horowitzes are just about the most neurotic, self-centered, narcissistic, childish, needy people you could ever meet. Second, Dubal is a world-class brownnoser. This is the only reason he was admitted into the Horowitz's inner circle and was able to stay there. As soon as he stopped brownnosing, he was banished from the friendship.
It seems patently clear that a fair amount of Horowitz's neuroticism (though not all of it) was due to his repressed homosexuality. He spent large chunks of his life being depressed and agoraphobic. Many people considered him gay; Arthur Rubinstein was sure of it. Dubal calls him highly eroticized, "polymorphously erotic," and writes, "I personally doubt that he was capable of loving a man emotionally, but there was no doubt that he was powerfully attracted to the male body and was most likely often sexually frustrated throughout his life." His marriage to Wanda Toscanini when he was 30 seems to have arisen because he revered her father, the conductor Arturo, and because he needed or craved some kind of family life. Whether he also needed a beard to get through life is unclear; it had been a crime possibly punishable by death in the Soviet Union to be a homosexual, but Horowitz emigrated in 1925 when he was in his early twenties so presumably he could have felt freer to be himself, sexually, had he been capable of it.
These two strange people, one of them at a minimum almost shockingly unsuited to be a parent, had a daughter who committed suicide in 1975 at age 40. It would certainly be interesting to know more of her story.
The book is fascinating because virtuosity is fascinating, but it's also repulsive to be a witness to all the kowtowing and brownnosing that was necessary around Horowitz. I was most horrified by Dubal's "pimping" of Juilliard students for Horowitz - not sexual pimping, but bringing certain carefully selected young men (never women) to the Horowitz home to play for Horowitz and receive his pianistic teachings. Dubal selected only those he thought Horowitz would not outright reject for aesthetic reasons. They had to be "normal" looking - cleancut, relatively attractive. Women students were scorned by Horowitz not because he assumed they were less talented, but because he assumed they would quit a career in order to start families. Dubal holds off on bringing over one of his best students, an Asian, because Horowitz has told him Asians play like robots. When he does finally bring the young man over, Horowitz likes his playing but also inquires if he is "a member of the yellow race."
It seems patently clear that a fair amount of Horowitz's neuroticism (though not all of it) was due to his repressed homosexuality. He spent large chunks of his life being depressed and agoraphobic. Many people considered him gay; Arthur Rubinstein was sure of it. Dubal calls him highly eroticized, "polymorphously erotic," and writes, "I personally doubt that he was capable of loving a man emotionally, but there was no doubt that he was powerfully attracted to the male body and was most likely often sexually frustrated throughout his life." His marriage to Wanda Toscanini when he was 30 seems to have arisen because he revered her father, the conductor Arturo, and because he needed or craved some kind of family life. Whether he also needed a beard to get through life is unclear; it had been a crime possibly punishable by death in the Soviet Union to be a homosexual, but Horowitz emigrated in 1925 when he was in his early twenties so presumably he could have felt freer to be himself, sexually, had he been capable of it.
These two strange people, one of them at a minimum almost shockingly unsuited to be a parent, had a daughter who committed suicide in 1975 at age 40. It would certainly be interesting to know more of her story.
The book is fascinating because virtuosity is fascinating, but it's also repulsive to be a witness to all the kowtowing and brownnosing that was necessary around Horowitz. I was most horrified by Dubal's "pimping" of Juilliard students for Horowitz - not sexual pimping, but bringing certain carefully selected young men (never women) to the Horowitz home to play for Horowitz and receive his pianistic teachings. Dubal selected only those he thought Horowitz would not outright reject for aesthetic reasons. They had to be "normal" looking - cleancut, relatively attractive. Women students were scorned by Horowitz not because he assumed they were less talented, but because he assumed they would quit a career in order to start families. Dubal holds off on bringing over one of his best students, an Asian, because Horowitz has told him Asians play like robots. When he does finally bring the young man over, Horowitz likes his playing but also inquires if he is "a member of the yellow race."
August 29, 2019
For me, as for many pianists, Horowitz was like a god. It is great and very amusing at times to read about the man he was. I remember a few years after his passing his grand-piano came to Amsterdam and all students got the opportunity to play it for 20 minutes. I was lucky enough to have an appointment on a day and hour apparentely nobody else wanted to play and I spent a wonderful two hours playing the maestro's instrument. I felt very close to him and as if I understood music better than ever! I will always remember that special afternoon.
May 18, 2017
This book was surprisingly enjoyable. Some knowledge of music history is necessary to fully appreciate it, but otherwise it is very accessible. I found myself chuckling at Horowitz's petulant personality and many quirks, although he could also be frustrating at times. Moreover, the book is quite pithy at times, as Dubal and Horowitz discuss many issues in music, and the idea of greatness, its consequences and its demands, is a constant theme. Horowitz was indeed a great, thankfully recorded, and his accomplishments even as an octogenarian are unsurpassable. He should not be forgotten, and this book is a fun testament to his legacy. It is a great read for a musician.
May 20, 2019
If you like Horowitz, this is a worthwhile book, with lots of tidbits about his career and personal life. A couple of things stand out that made reading this book less enjoyable than it could have been.
1) The author is enormously egocentric and self-congratulatory. It's supposed to be a book about Horowitz, but one senses that the author is trying to write a book about himself in which Horowitz just happens to be one of the characters. The book is peppered with thinly-veiled attempts at self-flattery; the author endeavors to make much of his contribution to Horowitz's life. The author does seem to have forged a significant connection with Horowitz, but his self-promotion is so shameless that it does leave the accuracy of his perspective open to question.
2) Nobody comes out of this book looking good. Horowitz in this portrait is self-absorbed, socially imbecilic, lazy, and utterly insecure and neurotic. The author is petty, dishonest, and shamelessly obsequious toward Horowitz.
On the plus side, Horowitz's unparalleled abilities as a pianist do manage to come to the fore; his vast knowledge of the piano repertoire receives some attention, and Dubal provides some valuable insights on Horowitz's philosophy of music-making. There are lots of enjoyable tidbits about the great composers and pianists. It made this read very enjoyable at times, but don't bother with this book unless you already have some familiarity with Horowitz; otherwise, this rather sad portrayal of a narcissistic, dysfunctional concert pianist and an equally self-centered and emotionally immature author might be a bit of a turn-off!
1) The author is enormously egocentric and self-congratulatory. It's supposed to be a book about Horowitz, but one senses that the author is trying to write a book about himself in which Horowitz just happens to be one of the characters. The book is peppered with thinly-veiled attempts at self-flattery; the author endeavors to make much of his contribution to Horowitz's life. The author does seem to have forged a significant connection with Horowitz, but his self-promotion is so shameless that it does leave the accuracy of his perspective open to question.
2) Nobody comes out of this book looking good. Horowitz in this portrait is self-absorbed, socially imbecilic, lazy, and utterly insecure and neurotic. The author is petty, dishonest, and shamelessly obsequious toward Horowitz.
On the plus side, Horowitz's unparalleled abilities as a pianist do manage to come to the fore; his vast knowledge of the piano repertoire receives some attention, and Dubal provides some valuable insights on Horowitz's philosophy of music-making. There are lots of enjoyable tidbits about the great composers and pianists. It made this read very enjoyable at times, but don't bother with this book unless you already have some familiarity with Horowitz; otherwise, this rather sad portrayal of a narcissistic, dysfunctional concert pianist and an equally self-centered and emotionally immature author might be a bit of a turn-off!
September 28, 2019
I read this book a number of years ago but wanted to reread it having gained a greater understanding of the piano literature since my first reading. This book could stand as a master class of pianists and the piano reparatory.
It’s always fascinating to find a commonality in geniuses: the ego of knowing you’re blessed with talent alongside the neurosis and isolationism they create. Horowitz struggled with both.
It’s unfortunate he was known to be a showman, playing fast and loud. If one really listens you can find a sonorous and beautiful tones in his interpretations. His death signaled the last of the Romantic generation of great pianists.
It’s always fascinating to find a commonality in geniuses: the ego of knowing you’re blessed with talent alongside the neurosis and isolationism they create. Horowitz struggled with both.
It’s unfortunate he was known to be a showman, playing fast and loud. If one really listens you can find a sonorous and beautiful tones in his interpretations. His death signaled the last of the Romantic generation of great pianists.
August 24, 2019
I've just reread this book, of an extraordinarily gifted musician, with all of his idiosyncrasies, primarily because of my fascination with the body's ability to retain fluidity in performance in advanced age. Having seen my own father's chances in behavior near the end of his life, I was not put off by the childish aspects of his behavior. It illuminated for me the realities behind the stage persona. It was the televised concert from Russia that began my interest in Vladimir Horowitz.
Enjoyed very much.
Enjoyed very much.
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September 3, 2020Amazing book!
June 15, 2009
Very interesting if you play piano and worship Vladimir Horowitz.
June 20, 2011
neat views and stories about composers, techniques, style--fascinating portrait of fascinating man
September 3, 2020
This book is a really relaxing book
May 10, 2014
The last romantic.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews