Four Days in Palm Springs

 

Daniel recently surprised me by announcing he’d accrued far more paid time off than he originally thought.  A fringe benefit of this is that we’re planning to travel more extensively in the coming year than we’d previously envisioned.  In late 2021 we abandoned tentative plans to visit Palm Springs (PS) in favor of more economical destinations.  Although one such trip was beneficial in its own way, we kept PS on the back burner as a future option.  We were able to revive those plans late last year and set the ball in motion to visit PS and get away from the Cleveland winter. 

This was Daniel’s first visit to Palm Springs and my second – the first having been with my stepmother’s parents when I was about 14 years old and too young to really appreciate it. 

Palm Springs (by which I mean, of course, the location in California, not Florida) is known these days as a popular LGBTQ+ travel destination, ranking alongside Puerto Vallarta and San Francisco.  But there is much that anyone can appreciate here: nature, architecture, art.  We decided early on to avoid some of the more decadent guest houses and instead chose the local Hyatt hotel – conveniently located downtown and within walking distance of countless restaurants and vibrant nightlife: gay, straight, and mixed. 

The first day of our trip was a comedy of errors as, just a mile into our drive, we found ourselves with a flat tire.  Instead of changing it in the pouring rain, we headed back home to the thumpa-thumpa accompaniment of said tire.  Daniel then switched our luggage from one car to the other as I grabbed the other car key and we restarted our journey to the airport.  The flight to Palm Springs was uneventful, including a layover in San Francisco where I spotted a United Airlines plane with retro livery.  Once landed at Palm Springs’ charming airport, we found ourselves at the back of a long line at the Budget Rental Car stand.  All told we waited two hours, which did afford us some amusing conversations and commiserations with fellow standees but was highly annoying.  Eventually we got our car and, as we turned from the airport onto East Tahquitz Canyon Way, we encountered a breathtaking view of the San Jacinto Mountains which made the entire hassle of getting there worth it.  We arrived at the hotel just an hour before North Palm Canyon Drive was set to be closed to traffic for the weekly Village Fest.  After settling in, we got the lay of the land as we walked among the vendors and found a Mexican restaurant where we laughed over the mishaps of the day.  We were in Palm Springs where the weather was dry and mild, the moment was all that mattered.  After a dinner that was too generous to allow for dessert, we walked to East Arenas Road, home to several gay clubs including Quadz, Streetbar, and Hunters.  Most of these clubs are pretty much the same: video screens accompanied by loud music that reminded me of the thumpa-thumpa of our flat tire, amplified.  Indeed, of the several gay clubs we visited during our trip, none had the relaxed type of ambience that Garbo’s piano bar in Puerto Vallarta had.  This is a niche waiting to be filled in PS, unless such a place exists and we missed it.  By the time we’d finished our first drink, jet lag was taking effect, so we made an early night of it.  Both that day and for the rest of the trip, Daniel and I were struck by the easy-going charm and politeness of nearly everyone we encountered there.  Never did we once sense that we were being rushed in favor of the next customer. 

Spotted at SFO: 

United Airlines vintage Friend Ship livery

Jet-lag catches up with me in Palm Springs.

View from our hotel room.

We awakened Friday morning and were treated to a lovely view of San Jacinto from our balcony.  If selecting this particular hotel, we recommend opting for a mountain view room, as Palm Canyon Drive is active and loud into the wee hours.  That morning brought us one of the highlights of our trip as we drove up the steep hill leading to the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway.  The Valley Station had some interesting exhibits on the construction and history of the Tramway, but nothing compared to the 10-minute tram ride itself where, despite multiple ear pops, we enjoyed a breathtaking ride over Chino Canyon to the Mountain Station.  From there, we took in spectacular views of Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley before lunch at Peaks Restaurant, followed by a descent, accompanied by more ear pops. 

View from Mountain Station

Saturday morning was set aside for shopping, first at the Desert Hills Premium Outlets and then the nearby Cabazon Outlets.  Then we returned to PS and took a driving tour of the Movie Colony and Warm Sands neighborhoods, populated by gorgeous but not overwhelming mid-Century modern homes, one of my favorite styles.  To commemorate the 114^th anniversary of my grandmother’s birth, Daniel and I headed to Lulu’s and drank a toast in her honor with her favorite drink: a Vodka Martini with olives - interspersed with dinner and people watching.  We took it easy the rest of the night, saving our strength for Sunday’s adventure.

A fairly early breakfast at Pinocchio’s was enough to prepare us for a morning hike in Palm Canyon, Native land run by the Agua Caliente Band of Cahuilla Indians.  As we hiked the canyons and crossed over streams, I felt an intangible sense of something beyond the physical.  It was a special moment and we determined to make it part of our future trips to Palm Springs, which we hope won’t be too far off.  After the hike we did a bit of bar hopping before heading back to downtown PS and to Tommy Bahama’s restaurant and store for dinner and a pair of matching shirts.  Neither Daniel nor I are football fans, so we ignored the shouts and groans as patrons watched the Super Bowl.  By then we were pretty tuckered out and ready to start preparing for the journey home. 

 

Solitude...

A hike without sweat is not a hike.

Daniel is none the worse for wear.

We awakened early Monday and headed to the nearby Starbucks Reserve.  On the way back, we learned a fire alarm at our hotel had gone off, but there was no fire.  Our return home, connecting through DFW, was uneventful save for spotting a plane with vintage American Airlines livery and a British Airways A380 – the first of that model I’d ever seen “in the flesh.” 

Fire truck in front of our hotel

American Airlines in vintage livery - 

preferable to today's version.

British Airways A380 

Walter Gieseking's complete Warner recordings

 Warner Classics, the successor company to Angel/EMI, has released their complete Walter Gieseking holdings on 48 CDs.  Click here to read my review.

Norman, Debussy, Ravel, and a last-minute substitution at Severance

As last night’s concert at Severance Hall was about to begin, Cleveland Orchestra manager André Gremillet walked onstage and announced that guest conductor Klaus Mäkelä was unable to conduct due to illness and that Assistant Conductor Daniel Reith would substitute.  Though there were murmurs of disappointment from the audience Reith was warmly greeted when he strode onstage to begin the concert. 

Reith’s steady command of the orchestra and music was firmly established in the opening bars of Andrew Norman’s 2018 composition Sustain, receiving its Cleveland premiere this weekend.  The work began slowly, with high, descending slow notes from the strings, joined by the brass, giving me the impression of slowly walking in a dark room while passing through suspended veils.  Then the piece gained momentum and descended into what another patron called “pots and pans” music.  I couldn’t entirely disagree with her remark.  Yet there were numerous unique sonorities to be heard, not least from two pianos, tuned a quarter-tone apart, and Sustain bears further listening. 

 Unfortunately, my concentration was disrupted: first by a man behind the audience speaking quite audibly; then, by a woman’s personal alarm sounding and continuing as she left the auditorium.  The concert was filmed for future streaming on the Adella app, but I suspect Sustain will have to be left out or patched due to the off-stage noises.  One characteristic of the main auditorium at Severance is that the faintest sounds carry to all parts within the hall.

Unfortunately, at least one person's

electronic device was not silenced.

Following intermission, the concert continued with a complete performance of Debussy’s Images.  It seems odd to note that the orchestra didn’t present the complete work, completed in 1912, until 1951 when Pierre Monteux led it here.  Debussy’s music has become generally popular, yet of the work, only the Iberia portion is frequently performed.   Gigues opened with a sense of mystery as the high-notes in the winds sounded and the strings insinuated themselves, then the piece picked up tempo as it quoted the then-popular tune Let’s Dance the Jig by Charles Bordes.  From England, we were transported to Spain for the work’s second part – in three sections.  Here, Reith demonstrated his master of orchestra balance, particularly in The Fragrances of the Night, but the final Spanish part, The Morning of a Festival Day, lacked the vibrancy usually heard in this work.  But the rousing nature of the piece brought a burst of spontaneous applause from the audience (no doubt, some applauders thought the work was over).  After things settled down, the orchestra continued with the work’s conclusion, Spring Rounds.  

In some ways Ravel’s ever popular Boléro is like an extended, slow-motion Rossini crescendo: to be properly brought off, the tempo has to be strictly maintained and the orchestra sections perfectly balanced as they increase in volume.  Reith established a slow tempo in Boléro’s opening bars, very much like that heard on Ravel’s own 1930 recording.  Each repetition of the binary theme brought a bit more volume and excitement until, as the piece suddenly switched from C major to E major, I noticed an expression of joyful surprise on a young person’s face.  Naturally the work's conclusion brought down the house.

Whether because Bolero was on the program or people feeling more comfortable with attending live events, the hall was filled to at least 80% capacity, the most I’ve seen since before the pandemic began – three long years ago. 

 

Disinformation and Misinformation at History of Music

 

Since 2019 I have been administering a Facebook group dedicated to Vladimir Horowitz.  We have grown to over 2,000 members even though I carefully screen applicants for entry and turn down nearly as many applications as I approve. The reasons I am so cautious about how I administrate this group has as much to do with Facebook’s privacy settings as with Horowitz.  As to Facebook’s group settings, I’ll leave it to a tech expert to explain how putting the group on a global setting where anyone can join leaves legitimate members vulnerable to such niceties as identity theft and fraud.  As to Horowitz, I’ll merely state that there’s a lot of bullshit within the Classical music field and the pianist’s story is not immune to it. 

Hardly a week goes by where I don’t read something nonsensical about Horowitz, either ham-handed, half-informed opinions about his musical and pianistic abilities, or blatant factual errors.  As for the former, as Horowitz himself said, “It’s just opinion, it doesn’t matter!”  But factual misinformation and disinformation must be called out, else it obtains the patina of fact.  Thus we come to an article on Horowitz that was published at History of Music.  I know nothing about this site, except that links from it pop up on my Facebook feed with some regularity.  A quick perusal indicates it’s not well maintained, unlike, say, Classics Today.  The article in question is an example of that.  It fails to shed any new light on the Horowitz phenomenon, and contains numerous statements that are vague at best and worse, blatantly false.  

First, it’s obvious that the article in question was not written in English, but so poorly translated from another language as to be almost unreadable.  As there is no author listed, one can only guess as to the language of origin but I suspect a Russian author.

The article states that life in the Horowitz household was upended by political chaos in 1914.  First, the Russian Revolution began in 1917, when Horowitz was 14, not 1914, when Horowitz was 11.  Second, the 1914 date is in direct contradiction to Horowitz’s own recollection, who stated that the early months of the Revolution were actually a boon to Kiev: “The Revolution started in the north, and the best forces in music came down from Petersburg and Moscow to escape the bolshevism and because we had food and there they had famine.  So, in our Conservatory I played four hands with the teacher of Gilels and Richter.  Glazunov was there.  Gliére was there.”  (Quote is from a 1977 interview with Helen Epstein, originally for the New York Times and later published in Music Talks.)

But that benefit was short lived, as Soviet forces entered Ukraine and invaded Kiev in early 1918.  Nevertheless, Horowitz was still able to continue as a student and did not perform publicly until 1920. 

The pianist’s initial successes in Russia are recounted, along with his early post-Russian career.  No new information is presented to the reader.   

The article glosses over Horowitz’s sexual conflicts and presents the fairy-tale version of his courtship with Wanda Toscanini.  The author appears to blame American audiences for Horowitz’s 1936 breakdown.  This is patent nonsense as Horowitz’s most recent concerts in North America had been in the Spring of 1935, followed by a full year’s worth of concerts in Europe (including England).  Horowitz’s last concert in 1936 took place in Trieste on May 2, 1936.  But it wasn’t until September that Horowitz, aware that his mother had died from peritonitis following a delayed appendectomy, began to complain of severe intestinal pains and demanded that his appendix be removed.  Post-surgical complications, in particular phlebitis, and the stultifying presence of the Toscaninis were contributory factors in Horowitz’s subsequent breakdown.  Contradictory to the article’s assertion, it was not Toscanini but rather Rachmaninoff who helped get Horowitz back on track to the concert stage, enlisting the help of Dr. Nikolai Dahl, who had used hypnosis to help Rachmaninoff himself overcome depression following the disastrous premiere of his First Symphony.  Toscanini’s main contribution to Horowitz’s recovery was limited to looking askance at Horowitz and proclaiming, “He’s crazy!” to anyone within earshot, including the pianist himself.

Speaking of Rachmaninoff, the article perpetuates the myth, addressed in this very blog, that the composer abandoned his Third Concerto after hearing Horowitz play it.  Again, blatantly untrue.  Additionally, the author mislocates the story of Rachmaninoff mounting the stage to congratulate Horowitz after a triumphant performance of said concerto: the incident took place not at Carnegie Hall, but at the Hollywood Bowl, just a few months before the composer’s death.

Further, the author seems quite confused about the dates of both Horowitz’s retirement and Toscanini’s death – facts which are easily verified.  Horowitz and Toscanini last performed together in October, 1948.  Horowitz’s second breakdown took place in Minneapolis in March, 1953, where the pianist was scheduled to play a concert.  At that point, Toscanini was not only still alive, but still active as a conductor (his final concert was on April 4, 1954).  Toscanini died in January 1957, by which time Horowitz had returned to recording for RCA, continuing his association with the label until 1959.  In 1962, he switched his affiliation to Columbia Masterworks but, contrary to the author’s assertion, he never recorded    “Cherny [sic] sonatas” – in fact, the only Czerny work recorded by Horowitz was from 1944, the Variations on Rode's La Ricordanza, Op.33, for RCA. (The pianist considered this his favorite amongst his own recordings.)

Finally, the article seems to despair that Horowitz is often described as an “American pianist.”  Well, that was according to the pianist’s own wishes – not just in the period immediately after he became a United States citizen, but for decades afterwards.  Indeed, when Horowitz announced his intention to return to the Soviet Union in 1986 to perform a pair of concerts, he cautioned media to refer to him as an American “I’ve lived here for 50 years, far longer than in Russia.  This is my home.”

The question remains: Is this article an example of sloppy research, or is it deliberate misinformation, or a mix of both?  This is something only the anonymous author knows.

2022 in Review

2022 saw a continuation of the return to normalcy that began in 2021.  I continued my quest to get into better shape that began with my COVID vaccination and return to working out in 2021.  Since May of that year, I have lost over 30 pounds through a combination of diet and exercise – mostly the former.  I didn’t do anything radical: just reduced carbohydrates and sugar, which in turn reduced cravings for food.  That, along with just 30 minutes of exercise six times a week brought my weight down to its lowest point since 2006.  Although I remain overweight, I feel much better and, without wanting to boast, I look better as well.  Being able to work from home, only occasionally going to my employer’s campus, has been a great help to me in my fitness quest: not having to commute saves me over 40 minutes of each day.

Daniel and I continued our travel adventures with an autumn trip to Canada and New England in place of an originally planned trip to Europe.  Travelling by car enabled us to avoid the air travel meltdown that continues to plague North America and Europe, and we saw much that we would have missed. 

On the musical front, after tentatively dipping our toes back into the musical waters of Cleveland in 2021, Daniel and I began regularly attending concerts again.  There were too many concerts to mention comprehensively, but standouts were  Behzod Abduraimov’s fearless performance of Prokofiev’s Second Piano Concerto and Igor Levit’s effervescent Brahms Second Concerto. 

 

Aside from that, my musical activities have mostly been focused on composing several short works for piano and administrating my Vladimir Horowitz Facebook group.

 

Speaking of COVID, I experienced it in late-May.  At first, it seemed like an ordinary sinus infection, which is common for me as summer approaches.  Then my palms and the soles of my feet turned beet red, prompting me to get tested.  As I had been vaccinated, the symptoms were mild and I lost only one day of work – although it would have been more if I didn’t work from home.  I felt better in short order, but two weeks later the skin on my palms and feet suddenly began peeling off – evidently rejected by my immune system.   

 

In the wider world, Vladimir Putin’s chest-thumping led to Russian’s brutal and illegal occupation of the sovereign nation of Ukraine.  The war has not gone as Putin has expected, thanks to fearless Ukrainian soldiers assisted by weapons from the West, especially the United States.  Further, Western sanctions have nearly crippled the Russian economy, leading to domestic unrest.  I’ve been doing my small part to help but won’t disclose exactly how on this blog.

 

Democrats performed better than expected in the 2022 midterm elections.  They would have held the House if not for aggressive gerrymandering in Republican led states, including Ohio.  Also, too many Americans have become spoiled, entitled brats who decided to whine about inflation while forgetting that the economy was at a dead standstill just two short years ago.  The inflation of the last year is not the result of Democratic or Biden Administration policies, it’s due to the law of supply and demand which is the centerpiece of capitalism: coming out of COVID, there was a sharp increase in demand without the resources to meet those demands due, in part, to a lack of imports from China.  The increased desire for both road and air travel drove fuel prices, which drove up prices for everything else.  Instead of taking logical actions, like driving less or getting more fuel efficient cars, too many Americans decided to crab about it while ignoring our own history: The economic situation in 2021-22 has a parallel with that of 1946-1947, where the conversion from a wartime to a peacetime economy and a generation of servicemen returning home to start families drove not only inflation but a housing shortage.  But while countries like China and Russia are struggling economically, and while Europe and the UK struggle with inflation far more serious than occurred in the United States, the American economy remains relatively sturdy and resistant to attempts by the Federal Reserve Bank to slow it down.  At this point, it’s an open question as to whether President Biden should run again.  Personally, I think he should not.  Biden can decline another nomination and go down in history as among the most successful one-term Presidents, and having done his duty, retire like Cincinnatus, clearing the way for a new generation of leadership.  But anyone who doubts that we’re much better off than we were two years ago needs a reminder of the lockdowns, how hospitals were overrun, and stores and restaurants were closed – and President Biden’s steady leadership is a major factor in changing that. 

 

On a very personal note, 2022 saw the blossoming of a friendship with a person whom I’d known peripherally for years.  The result has been a new perspective on the arc of my life, a renewed sense of purpose, and the slow opening of a heart that’s closed for all but those truly close to me.  My greatest hope is that this friendship continues for as long as I do. 

Petrenko and Abduraimov at Severance

This past Thursday I received the first of two doses of the Shingrix vaccine.  Although I experienced some unpleasant side effects Friday, by Saturday they were mostly resolved so, despite a slightly sore shoulder, I was able to attend the Cleveland Orchestra’s concert of 20^th Century music at Severance Hall featuring guest conductor Vasily Petrenko.  Unfortunately, Daniel has been fighting an annoying sinus infection, so he was unable to join me. 

The first work on the program was Edward Elgar’s concert overture, Cockaigne “In London Town,” a musical tribute to Edwardian era London and a reminder to this listener that he needs to book his flight for a planned spring trip there.  The work’s jaunty rhythms were delivered with crispness and a lack of pomposity, its massive orchestration never overpowering.

Petrenko was joined by pianist Behzod Abduraimov for the concert’s next work: Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 16.  Originally premiered in 1913, the work’s score was lost in the aftermath of the Russian Revolution, reconstructed and revised by the composer, and received a second premiere in 1924.  The work is easily the most demanding of Prokofiev’s five piano concertos:  Four sprawling movements, harmonically pungent, truly knuckle-busting in terms of dexterity and stamina required.  The work has grown in popularity over the last few decades, although the contrarian composer seems to have had mixed feelings about it (he advised Vladimir Horowitz to not bother learning the piece, saying “it has too many notes and I don’t like it myself”).

Within two minutes of the work’s quiet, brooding opening, Abduraimov was demonstrating that he was the work’s master, not the other way around.  One must always remember that, despite the pseudo-servile statements made by numerous musicians, one must truly master the music to serve the composer’s vision.  Abduraimov’s technique was truly stunning, not merely in dexterity but in the balancing of notes and lines so that Prokofiev’s dense piano writing was more than merely loud, but made musical sense – thus, the technique served musical ends.  This was combined with a narrative sweep usually lacking in performances of this monster of a concerto – which too often ends up sounding like a jumble of scrambled notes.  Of the many performances, both recorded and live, I’ve heard of this work, this was the most memorable, and far more convincing than the one I heard in here four years ago. 

It has become commonplace to describe staggering feats of virtuosity such as what was heard last night as “effortless”, a term that can devalue the achievement and allow the audience to forget that the marvel came at the expense of countless hours of arduous work.  Last night’s performance was certainly not “effortless”, as witnessed by the pianist mopping his brow with a handkerchief during the rare moments of rest that the concerto allowed.  Abduraimov gave the last ounce of himself and the virtuosity was earned. 

In the end, it was a fearless, convincing, and compelling performance which did more than bring the audience to its feet, but also remained in the mind’s ear for hours afterward.  Petrenko and the orchestra matched the pianist note for note.  Despite the concerto’s exhausting demands, Abduraimov gave a charming encore: an arrangement of the Neapolitan Dance from Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake.

The concert’s second half was devoted to William Walton’s Symphony No. 1, a work that the composer struggled to complete.  Walton was a more eclectic composer than Elgar, his music less obviously British, and it’s clear he was a strong influence on the film compositions of John Williams, both harmonically and in orchestration.  Petrenko and the orchestra delivered the work with brisk tempos, transparent balances, and a lack of unnecessary rhetoric.  But it seemed a bit anti-climactic.  Not that the work itself or the performance were lacking, simply that the Prokofiev was so astonishing.  The audience awarded Petrenko and the orchestra with a hearty ovation, but it was the Prokofiev which lingered for the rest of the evening, as attested by several conversations I overheard while leaving Severance Hall. 

Vladimir Horowitz's approach to concert programming

Vladimir Horowitz was a canny program builder.  He once compared building a great program to planning a fine meal: a light appetizer, a heavier main course, a sweet dessert.  The notion of programming the last three Beethoven Sonatas or the last two Schubert Sonatas was anathema to him.  In fact, single-composer programs were a rare occurrence for Horowitz, with exceptions such as the May 1978 international concert at Carnegie Hall where fans the world over were enticed to hear Horowitz as part of a tourist package.  

Horowitz’s programs demonstrate his desire to thread the needle between musical profundity and entertainment.  The latter principle has taken on a dirty meaning over the decades, but it’s worth noting that the word “entertainment” derives from the Greek word “entrata” which means “to hold” – in this case, the audience’s attention.  But Horowitz would never have stooped to recording an album of Disney tunes, and angrily rejected RCA’s proposal that he record Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue or an album of marches.  He wanted to do things his own way, a principle which extended to his concert programs. 

Almost invariably, Horowitz programmed his concerts around one or two larger works, and with rare exceptions (Rachmaninoff’s Sonata in B-flat minor, Op. 36 or his own arrangement of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition) the large works were performed during the first half of the concert. 

Three concerts played within two months at Carnegie Hall in 1946.  

After his 1965 comeback, Horowitz generally had one program that he mostly stuck with for an entire season, sometimes having additional pieces at the ready in case he played twice in the same city.  For example, during the 1985-1986 season, he alternated between Schumann’s Kreisleriana, Op. 16 and Mozart’s Sonata in C major, K. 330 (with a few additional works to balance out the timing). 

Driven by a dual desire to keep himself musically fresh and give his audiences something new, his programs generally feature at least one work either entirely new to his repertoire or something he had not played in many years.   Here is a partial listing of new/revived solo works, starting in 1951, with (n) indicating a work new to his public repertoire and (t) indicating a work he hadn’t performed publicly in over ten years.  Shorter works including Etudes, Mazurkas, Songs without Words, and the like are not included here.

1951: Mozart: Sonata in B-flat minor, K. 333 (n)

1952-1953: Schubert: Sonata in B-flat major, D.960 (n); Scriabin: Sonata No.9, Op.68 (n);  Liszt/Horowitz: Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 in C-sharp minor (n)

1965: As this was Horowitz’s first concert since 1953, none of the works had been performed within the previous ten years.

1966: Haydn: Sonata in F major, Hob. XVI:23 (n); Schumann: Blumenstück, Op.19 (t); Chopin: Sonata No.2 in B-flat minor, Op.35 (t); Debussy: Preludes & L'Isle Joyeuse (t); Liszt: Vallée d'Obermann (t); Scriabin: Sonata No.10, Op.70 (n)

1967-1968: Scarlatti: Various Sonatas (n); Beethoven: Sonata in A major, Op.101 (t); Chopin: Barcarolle in F-sharp major, Op.60 (t); Polonaise in F-sharp minor, Op.44 (n)

1968: Haydn: Sonata in C major, Hob. XVI:48 (n); Schumann: Kreisleriana, Op. 16 (n); Rachmaninoff: Sonata in B-flat minor, Op. 35 (t)

1969: Scriabin: selected Etudes (r & t); Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsody No. 13 (arr. Horowitz) (n)

1974: Clementi: Sonata in F-sharp minor, Op.26 No.2 (n); Schumann: Kinderszenen, Op.15 (t); Chopin: Introduction & Rondo, Op.16 (n)

1975-1976: Schumann: Sonata in F minor, Op. 14 (Concerto without Orchestra) (n)

1976-1977: Clementi: Sonata in C major, Op.33 No.3 (n); Liszt: Sonata in B minor (t)

1977-1978: Mozart: Sonata in C major, K.330 (n)

Fauré: Nocturne in B minor, Op.119;  Fauré: Impromptu in F-sharp minor, Op.102 (n)

1978-1979: Schumann: Humoreske, Op.20 (t) (VH had played selections from this work in the 1934-1935 season.)

1979-1980: Rachmaninoff/Horowitz: Sonata No.2 in B-flat minor, Op.36 (t)

1981-1982: Scarlatti: Various Sonatas (n); Liszt: Ballade in B minor

1982-1983: Schumann: Carnaval, Op. 9 (t)

1985-1986: Schumann: Kreisleriana, Op. 16 (t); Liszt: Soirees de Vienne No. 6 (after Schubert) (n)

1987: Mozart: Sonata in B-flat major, K. 333 (t)

 

Visit the Vladimir Horowitz appreciation society on Facebook for curated discussion and tributes to the Maestro.