天啊，竟然找到这样一篇文章！Sultanov实在是。。。太个性了点。。。竟然公然搅局！
里面比较有意思的一段讲在97年克莱本大赛开幕式受到了“不受欢迎的打扰”--在这个很庄重的场面上，Sultanov作为以往的冠军上去讲话。他前面人的讲话主题是“对生活，其他，和音乐的爱”，而Sultanov上去大吼“还有第四件事！去恨那些不喜欢你人！”（BM按：当时Sultanov非常受争议，观众对他非爱即恨，没有中间地带。批评的语言非常刻薄，我会慢慢发上来些当年对他的负面评论，真是毫不留情的全盘否定！）观众不太自然的笑了。Sultanov 继续道：“有一种东西叫做至高无上的存在。那就是克莱本，霍洛维茨，和我！”
报道这个的新闻周刊事后采访Sultanov问他到底怎么回事，他说“我气坏了！一切都是个大谎言！（BM按，谎言指比赛制度，指人们认为赢得比赛可以带来的东西。。。）”
You're damned if you do ... at the Gong Show of classical music, nobody really wins.(Van Cliburn International Piano Compeition)
Yahlin Chang
9 June 1997
Newsweek
Vol. 129, No. 23, ISSN: 0028-9604
At the Gong Show of classical music, nobody really wins
The black-tie opening gala for the quadrennial Van Cliburn International Piano Competition on May 22 had an unwelcome disturbance. Thirty-five high-society Ft. Worth, Texas, couples were graciously thanked for accommodating the competitors--and the borrowed Steinway grands--in their golf-course-side mansions. Cliburn himself (who gallivants around in a helicopter emblazoned VAN CLIBURN) danced with Mercedes Bass, and Jose Feghali, the Cliburn's 1985 winner, spoke on "the love for life, the love for others, the love for music." Then 1989 gold medalist Alexei Sultanov lurched toward the mic. "There's a fourth thing" he growled. "To hate people who don't like it." The audience laughed uneasily. "There is such a thing as a supreme being," Sultanov went on. "That's Van Gliburn, Horowitz and me." What was Sultanov's problem? "I'm pissed off," he told NEWSWEEK. "It's all a big lie."
It's certainly big. The winner of the Cliburn, to be announced on June 8, will get $20,000 in cash, $10,000 worth of concert attire, two seasons of management and tours, and a Carnegie Hall recital. Some say Sultanov--who won at 19 after playing so hard he broke a piano string--was too young to handle the pressure. Or was it the letdown? Times have changed since the young Cliburn got a ticker-tape parade for winning the 1958 Tchaikovsky Competition in cold-war-era Moscow. Of the nine Cliburn winners, dating from 1962, only Radu Lupu has become a name pianist. "Where are they?" asks 1969 gold medalist Cristina Ortiz. "You don't hear of them."
The biggest draw in classical music today happens to be a pianist--the disturbed, much panned Australian David Helfgott, whose supposedly uplifting life story was told in the film "Shine." But the odds are against a merely brilliant pianist making a concert career. Besides suffering from perennially dwindling audiences and record sales, the field has now become overrun with pianists of ever-higher caliber--especially those from Asia and Russia. (Of the four Americans in the year's Cliburn--three of them Asian-American--only Jon Nakamatsu made the semifinals.) The best young pianists in the world can't get a break.
This year's 35 contestants, aged 19 to 30, are better than ever before. There are no obvious standouts or losers--just one exceptional pianist after another trotting out to lay bare their souls for judgment. Listening to them is exhausting, depressing and a little scary. "The playing is marvelous, but none of them will become some stupid international superstar," says one judge. "Look, the profession of concert pianist is over."
The World Federation of International Music Competitions has even discussed eliminating first prizes, especially in smaller contests, lest they encourage too many young musidans. "You don't want to lead them to think they stand a chance in the music world," says Cliburn director Richard Rodzinski. Cliburn himself even tries to avoid the word "competition." "It's more like a world music festival," he says. But the competitors aren't fooled. "You express your deepest feelings," says Russian semifinalist Katia Skanavi. "You speak with your heart. Then people compare your inner world to someone else's and say theirs is better."
Skanavi's husband--and competitor--Alex Slobodyanik, a visceral performer with a big sound and a high-powered manager at ICM, had a minor memory slip in an otherwise strong recital. But he knew the judges were looking for reasons to eliminate pianists. "I started playing, and I couldn't hear myself," he said. "I'm out." It would be hard to find a musician who actually enjoys the experience. "It has nothing to do with music," says American competitor Ju-Ying Song. "It's this bloodthirsty desire to see someone win or lose." After Canadian Joel Hastings pulled his audience to their feet with a wild performance of Liszt's "Totentanz," a local radio host shoved a mike at him and asked, "Joel, would you say that was a slam-dunk?"
These days classical music needs all the gimmicks it can get. The Helfgott phenomenon "taught us a tremendous lesson," says Rodzinski. "We need to use mass-marketing tools." But it's depressing to watch classical music going pop, from Helfgott grinding out "Flight of the Bumblebee" on the Academy Awards to such CDs as "Exile on Classical Street" and "Baroque for Bathlime." So if marketing techniques are degrading, competitions are demeaning and the profession is dying, why even bother? Because it's what musicians do. "It is a longing," says Swedish competitor Niklas Sivelov. Given where the piano world's heading, the longing is all that may last.
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Post By：2005-7-18 12:03:45 [只看该作者]
月光钢琴教育家
最爱David！！
