Ask almost any pianist - one could almost say any musician - who was the greatest of the twentieth century, and the chances are that you will be told 'Sviatoslav Richter'. Music is, of course, not a competition; there are few more pointless pursuits than the musical equivalent of deciding whether Jack Hobbs or Don Bradman was truly the greatest. Schnabel, Fischer, Michelangeli, Gilels, to single out - quite arbitrarily - just four: all were unique geniuses. But none had the combination of range, depth, technique, sound, command and sheer musicianship of Richter. To hear Richter play was to be transported from this world into another universe where nothing else mattered but the sound coming from the piano. (Not least because he insisted in his last years in playing in near total darkness, with the single, small stage lamp which illuminated his score having the effect of both drawing you in to focus on the piano, and closing off any possibility of watching the man rather than listening to the music.)
I was lucky enough to hear him play a number of times: the composers he chose were typically varied: Bach, Beethoven, Shostakovich, Chopin, Mozart, Haydn, Schumann, Prokofiev and Hindemith. But for me, above all else, it was his Schubert which was truly miraculous. I can still remember the effect of his G major sonata, a decade after the concert.
Recordings, of course, never do justice. But for all Richter's ambivalence to the idea of capturing for eternity a moment which, by definition, should be spontaneous, Richter left a large legacy, many of them worthy of his memory. His Bach Well-Tempered Klavier, his Mussorgsky Pictures at an Exhibition, his Liszt Sonata and the recent BBC archive releases of his Schubert give a wonderful illustration of the sheer variety of his mastery.
But for a rounded indication of Richter's genius, Bruno Monaingeon's edition of his notebooks and edited conversations is indispensable - as well as being pure joy from start to finish. Monsaingeon has taken his conversations with Richter recorded in his compelling documentary, 'Richter: The Enigma', and edited them into a narrative which, wisely, does not attempt to be comprehensive or chronological but rather aims to give a flavour of Richter's often willful personality. Like almost all truly great artists, he was full of paradoxes. He hated arranging anything, whether it was a concert or a journey, and he hated traveling as part of a schedule. But he was, of course, utterly rigid in his practice method: constant repetition of the same prase, then the next, then the next.
Although for he was effectively trapped behind the Iron Curtain until 1960, he felt no pressing urge to see outside. Indeed, as he puts it: 'How many times afterwards have I thought of how happy I'd have been if only I'd missed the train (at the start of his first journey to America). I'd never have got to know America, and would have been all the better for itÖThe noise, the cheap culture, the advertising and the language!'.
But when left to his devices - no promoters, no advance bookings, no scheduled programmes - he loved to travel. He was at his most relaxed when he simply got behind the wheel of a car, stopped wherever he fancied, and gave an impromptu concert. When well over 70, he drove from Moscow to Japan and back, giving nearly 100 such concerts in a few months crossing the Urals and Siberia.
Monsaingeon also includes selections from Richter's notebooks, into which he poured his thoughts, whether it was after performing or listening. These two hundred pages alone make this a book to savour. Thus is Vladimir Horowtiz despatched in one paragraph: 'Phenomenal and off-putting and excellent and fantastic tone, and thoroughly contradictory. Such talent! And such a trivial mind...Such a sympathetic person, so artistic and yet so limited. It's all so strange.'
The great conductor, Kurt Sanderling, said that 'not only can he play well, he can also read music'. That just about says it all.
Sviatoslav Richter Notebooks and Conversations
Bruno Monsaingeon (translated Stewart Spencer)
Faber and Faber £25


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