The Present Is Now

Thanks, YouTube.

by Peter Burwasser

It seems to be the case that I am often a few beats behind the band when it comes to musical technology. I resisted the compact disc revolution for at least a decade; I still prefer the sound of LPs, by the way. Really. I have only been a happy iPod user for about a year. Surround sound? Not in my immediate future.

My latest belated discovery is the video Internet site YouTube. What is there for a classical geek in this pop culture treasure chest, you ask? Lots. How about Maria Callas singing "Casta Diva"? How about three different versions? Stare directly into the face of conductor Arturo Toscanini, and you get a sense of the terror he instilled in his players, as he makes a sound in the music of Respighi that makes your spine tingle. There is vintage Heifitz, playing Paganini with a precision that makes you think he sold his soul to the devil. You watch with fascinated horror as the great, if morally flawed conductor Wilhelm Furtwaengler leads the Berlin Philharmonic in impassioned Beethoven, in 1942, before an audience filled with human monsters. The legendary pianist Sviatoslav Richter displays a robust physicality in appearance that is well matched to the massive sound that collectors know so well.

YouTube's interface leads to interesting discoveries. After you open up a video, a column of related videos appears on the side. For example, if I click on a link for Martha Argerich playing the Chopin "Heroic Polonaise," YouTube then offers me competing versions by Horowitz and Rubinstein. What fun to quickly switch between them to hear the differences in approach (the divine Martha was my fave).

YouTube is built of voluntary contributions. As such, the actual video and audio quality is highly variable, especially with the vintage material. For me, the endless gems here serve more of an educational value than a strictly entertainment function. Those giants from yesteryear walked with grand footsteps, and left us much to be wistfully nostalgic about. Case in point, a Japanese documentary about the revered Philadelphia based pianist and teacher Horszowski. Shown well into his nineties in master classes, there is no language barrier, because he does all of his teaching with his hands, eyes, and gravelly singing voice. It is a wonder to see his students, two generations removed, learn from him in this way, as those of us sitting in from of a computer screen learn something profound about the music as well. Thanks, YouTube.

(p_burwasser@citypaper.net)