(The WVMA wishes to thank
"The Plain Dealer" for allowing us to reprint an article that appeared in
the Wabash newspaper on November 11, 1972. It was written by a long
time, dedicated member of our board, Earleen Ulery, who passed away in
December 2003.)
"Without
Pompa, Rubinstein was nothing"
The man in the gray stocking
cap kept an anxious eye on the blanketed piano as it was hoisted onto the
Honeywell Center stage.
He followed it inside.
Three husky men, almost with tender care, set it up.
All this for a piano?
Why not? In wasn't just any piano -- or even any nine-foot concert
grand. It was that of a master whose music is revered by kings and queens
and dictators and presidents the world over. It had rode on ships and
planes and trucks and now it had come to Wabash for the Wabash Valley Music
Association concert Friday night.
The man in the gray cap had
brought it here from New York City of the first leg of its current 3,000
mile journey. He had picked it up for pianist Artur Rubinstein in New
York and after Wabash he would take it on to Iowa City, Iowa; Chicago,
Rochester and Syracuse, N.Y., before returning it to Steinway Hall in New
York City.
A New Yorker through and
through, the trucker had one job to do -- get that piano to the Rubinstein
concert locations on concert days with enough time allowing for Rubinstein
to practice; reload it after the performance and have it on its way.
Rubinstein and the trucker --
Paul Pompa -- have been friends for 10 years. A man of Italian
extraction and a Greenwich villager for all of his 42 years, Pompa sees
Rubinstein as a "very fine man." "All the employees love him -- he's
the greatest," he said.
The first time Pompa moved
the piano was in 1962 when he picked the crated instrument up in a New York
Pier. It had just come back from Africa. At the same time Pompa
met Rubinstein in his penthouse in Central Park West.
The Honeywell Center quieted
as the workmen left and the piano waited for Rubinstein to rehearse.
When he does rehearse, no one, but no one, disturbs him. In the wings
his traveling manager, Lewis Bender, who had been with him for 30 years,
waited. So did the piano tuner.
Bender said he probably knew
Rubinstein better than he did himself. He had gone all over the world
with him and it was evident he was more than just a traveling manager -- he
was his friend and his protector.
"Rubinstein hasn't been
well," he said as he explained that shingles had given him some problems.
"But he refuses to let that hamper him or to stop him in his music playing,"
he said.
"He is a gentle person -- but
he can be severe when he is provoked."
The 83-year-old pianist
practiced on. "In his youth, he practiced several hours a day but now
he doesn't have to with so many concerts -- 25 to 30 in America every year
and probably the same amount in Europe. He used to do a hundred
concerts a year. He travels by plane only -- he doesn't want any part
of automobiles, busses or trains. He couldn't make the concerts
otherwise," Bender said. "In the major cities 60 percent of his
audiences are in the 18-25 year age group."
Rubinstein quickly turned
from his piano -- the only one that he will play. Bender rushed to his
side. Rubinstein instructed the waiting piano tuner.
Would he talk to the girl
from the newspaper, Bender asked. Briefly, but briefly. Bender
turned. "You won't talk to Mr. Rubinstein too long, now will you?"
Out popped the question "What
is music to you?"
"What is music to me," the
gray-haired but sparkling-eyed musician said. "It is life. I was
born with it. It is a sixth sense. I showed it when I was only 2
years old. By the time I was 3 or 4 years old I could play better than
my sisters who were 18 or 19 years old.
"I had a little fiddle when I
was 4 and I broke it to pieces. The piano was what I needed. I
needed more than one tone.
"Do I have a favorite
composer -- everything I play is a favorite. How can I play Beethoven
and think about Schubert. How can I play Schubert and think about
Beethoven?"
Bender held out Rubinstein's
fur-trimmed coat and Rubinstein buttoned up. He held out his hand - it
was icy cold. The interview was over.
People started gathering
early for the Friday night concert, some delayed a little by the rain.
But around 1,400 listened to the two-hour recital and gave the pianist three
standing ovations.
But the truck driver had
predicted that afternoon that it would happen in Wabash. One of the
greatest concerts he had ever seen with Rubinstein was in Carnegie Hall in
New York City where thousands stood in tribute to his mastery.
The Beethoven Sonata and the
Chopin Nocturne were especially lovely. Rubinstein's strength, his
control, his technique, his memory were all points to admire.
He added two encores to his
program and then escaped to his dressing room.
