Following in the London Footsteps of Famous Pianists

The famous writer and dandy Oscar Wilde remarked once that ‘the man who can dominate a London dinner-table can dominate the world’. One could certainly paraphrase this and say that whoever can dominate the city’s concert stage can dominate it everywhere else. One of many beauties of such great cities as London, Paris or Vienna is their continuity of existence. They are beehives of human activity and their endurance creates an irresistible fabric of cultural experiences stretching back centuries.

London, with its two-thousand-year-old history, has always attracted artists from all around the globe, though being an island could be obstacle in catching up with continental trends and fashions.

However, by the end of the 19th century the British capital had become an essential stopover for world-famous performers and those in search of stardom. London, unlike many European cities, has been spared the ravages of wars, especially those of the 20th century, and if the time machine worked one could follow in the footsteps of countless great artists whose lives shaped and enriched this ancient metropolis.

When the great Polish pianist, composer and future prime minister Ignacy Jan Paderewski debuted in the British capital he played at the no-longer-existing 2,000-seat St. James’ Hall, designed by Owen Jones, who was responsible for the interior of the Crystal Palace. The hall had two fronts, one on Regent Street and the other on Piccadilly, occupying what is now a rather mediocre four-star hotel. Its architecture was a high-octane Victorian medley of Gothic, Moorish and Italian, with excellent acoustic and rather uncomfortable sitting. Paderewski’s first London recital was a bit of a flop, with low attendance and cool reviews, but this was hardly a deterrent for an artist famous for his inexhaustible work ethic. It seemed inconceivable that this young lion of the piano, whose playing would soon become as legendary as his hairdo, had once been advised to pick up a trombone rather than the piano but the ways of artists are often paved with peculiar obstacles. The New York Steinway representative was equally sceptical of his first US tour, claiming that American audiences were far more demanding than those of Paris or London. Little did he know that Paderewski would soon become one of the highest-paid artists in American history.

In spite of the initially cold reception, the British Isles were conquered within a year, after extensive touring around the country and a rather curious PR stunt of publishing both negative and positive reviews at the pianist’s own insistence.

During his first stay in London, the 30-year-old virtuoso sat for two of his most famous portraits and you can still pass by a magnificent villa in St John’s Wood where the first sitting took place. Number 44 Grove End Road is a huge house that once belonged to two distinguished painters: James Tissot and Sir Lawrence Alma Tadema. The latter, born in Holland, established himself as one of the most successful Victorian artists, becoming a Royal Academician in 1870 and befriending the crème de la crème of English society. He spent a whopping £70,000 on the house, which would welcome such guests as Tchaikovsky, the Prince of Wales, Enrico Caruso, Auguste Rodin, Winston Churchill and Sarah Bernhardt. With nearly 1,500 square metres of space spread over three floors, a large three-storey studio and a huge garden, the Pall Mall Gazette called it ‘The Palace of the Beautiful’. The villa remains in private hands, with its interiors largely altered and sadly closed to the public. It sits opposite another house whose famous owner was the great English conductor Sir Thomas Beecham and just round the corner from the world’s most famous recording studios at Abbey Road. Paderewski and Tadema remained life-long friends, with the painter often visiting the great Pole’s Swiss villa and his daughter helping Paderewski with raising money for Polish war veterans.

The second portrait of the pianist, which now hangs at the Royal College of Music in London, was born of a curious encounter. Edward Burne-Jones passed Paderewski in the street, with neither aware of the other’s identity, but the painter thought he saw an archangel and the pianist had a vision of an apostle. A few days later they met at a party, where, formally introduced, they became friends and hence the portrait!

Paderewski was famous for his generosity, which was often deplored by his shrewd agents. His unstinting support for his fellow musicians resulted in numerous charitable concerts, such as the one organised with his friend, the editor of the Daily Mail at the Royal Albert Hall on 12 January 1933, at which Paderewski performed in the presence of Queen Mary. His backstage manner and kindness had sometimes unexpected results too. Once he gave some advice to a little boy who tried to learn his famous Minuet in G. Years later the boy, a certain Harry Truman, would become the United States’ president and his friend, Paderewski, the prime minister of the newly independent Poland.

The great pianist was as fastidious with his practice regime as he was with his dress.

Paderewski certainly was a superbly elegant man and London provided all the necessary paraphernalia to satisfy his sartorial needs. Apart from his grand mop of hair, which could easily be maintained by someone like Truefitt & Hill, established in 1805, Paderewski was a loyal client of Savile Row tailors for his suits, waistcoats and silk shirts, with Lock delivering his hats. There was a time when a gentleman wouldn’t leave his home without one and, even though nowadays it’s a choice rather than a necessity, Lock will always be there. Established in 1765 by James and Mary Lock and still in the same premises at 6 St James’s Street, it is the oldest hat shop in the world. Its clientele is as illustrious as its history and the quality second to none.

A stone’s throw from St James’s Street in Mayfair is a restaurant called Scott’s. Originally founded as an oyster warehouse by a fishmonger, John Scott, it soon became the best seafood establishment in London and a restaurant of choice for film stars, writers and politicians.

For years it was the favourite of Polish pianist Artur Rubinstein, whose concerts always created both stir and shake, unlike Ian Fleming’s martini. The great writer and Scott’s aficionado preferred to remain just shaken while dipping into his Dover sole.

Rubinstein was a gourmand, often saying there is no such thing as the greatest composer because ‘when he eats Crêpe Suzette he is not thinking of the Steak Béarnaise he ate before. Both are delicious and one of a kind.’

The life of Artur Rubinstein, so rich and colourful, could embellish biographies of many great cites but London held a personal place in his career. His 1912 debut at the Wigmore Hall (in those days called Bechstein Hall) garnered enthusiastic reviews and the venue is where he took his final bow in 1976, after decades of performing not just solo but with the likes of Pablo Casals, Jacques Thibaud and Paweł Kochański.

The Wigmore Hall was not the sole London host of his artistic feasts. The pianist was also a regular visitor to the brutalist post-war South Bank Centre complex. After one of Rubinstein’s sold-out recitals the English writer and critic Neville Cardus wrote: ‘An artist to cherish, a master whose art is beyond the need of forcing; ripeness here, certainly, is all. As for the Schubert – each Impromptu was so played that, if after dying, any one of us wakes to hear such music, we’ll know at once that we’ve arrived in the right place.’

As in one of the famous Johann Strauss’s waltzes, ‘Wein, Weib und Gesang’, Rubinstein’s life seemed like a never-ending stream of bubbling champagne, both on and off stage. A man born with a silver spoon in his mouth had at the age of 40 decided to ‘settle down’. After courting Aniela (‘Nela’) Młynarski, the daughter of famed Polish conductor Emil Młynarski, they married on 27 July 1932 at Caxton Hall in St James’s, London. The Marchioness Cholmondeley held a wedding party for the newlywed couple at her Kensington Palace Gardens home.

Caxton Hall, built in 1882, was originally called Westminster Town Hall and served as the register office of choice for numerous famous couples such as Prime Minister Anthony Eden and Clarissa Spencer-Churchill, as well as Elizabeth Taylor, Roger Moore, Joan Collins, Peter Sellers, Yehudi Menuhin and Ringo Starr. The building, in the ornate style of Francis I and still standing at the corner of Caxton Street and Palmer Street, was not just a civil marriage venue but in its history hosted many political and artistic events. The British Suffragette movement held their ‘Women’s Parliament’ sessions there, Winston Churchill used it for his press conferences during the Second World War and it was here that the Russell–Einstein Manifesto was released to the press in reaction to the dangers of nuclear war.

Rubinstein visited London countless times and his little black book of friends must have been bursting at the seams. When you walk pass 211 Kings Road in Chelsea, look at the house once owned by the famous socialite and interior decorator Lady Sibyl Colefax. On a balmy June evening in 1936, Rubinstein joined a glittering assembly of guests for a dinner that included King Edward VIII, Wallis Simpson, Noel Coward and the Churchills.

London, like other great cities, hides many such gems, which we often pass by unaware of their fascinating past and hidden secrets. Some are famous and well known but many have fallen into obscurity forgotten or are ignored by locals and tourists. With a little homework and a pinch of curiosity one might look at familiar streets with a different eye. ′