Nicholas McCarthy shares Concerto for Left Hand
Pianist McCarthy shares with Christine Manby the one piece of music that always brings him joy, the piece that has had such an important effect on his life and works
Concert pianist Nicholas McCarthy remembers the moment he decided the piano was for him. He was watching his friend play Beethoven’s “Waldstein Sonata”. “This is it,” he said. “This is what I want to do.” McCarthy was then 14 years old. It was perhaps a little late for him to begin learning the piano with a plan to making a career of it. Particularly given the fact that McCarthy was born with only one hand.
But McCarthy, who had already dabbled with the French horn – “for about two and a half minutes” as he laughs – was determined. Three years later, his ambition was confirmed when he heard for the first time French composer Maurice Ravel’s Piano Concerto in D Major for the Left Hand. McCarthy’s paternal grandfather, a keen accordion player, had acquired an old recording of the concerto performed by French pianist Samson Francois accompanied by the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra. As McCarthy and his grandfather listened to the crackling recording together, McCarthy thought, “This was written for me.”
Ravel’s Piano Concerto for the Left Hand was in fact composed for Austrian-American pianist Paul Wittgenstein. Wittgenstein grew up in a musical family in Vienna. As a child he duetted with Richard Strauss. Brahms and Mahler were family friends. Wittgenstein made his debut as a concert pianist in 1913 to rave reviews. A year later, he was called up for military service in the First World War. He took a shot to the elbow during the Battle of Galicia and subsequently lost his right arm.
Undeterred, Wittgenstein vowed to continue his musical career and developed new techniques for playing the piano with his left hand alone. He commissioned new works from Benjamin Britten, Strauss and Prokofiev, but it was Ravel’s concerto that would go on to become the most widely known.
Describing the challenge of writing for the left hand alone, Ravel said: “A severe limitation of this sort poses a rather arduous problem for the composer. The attempts at resolving this problem, moreover, are extremely rare. The fear of difficulty, however, is never as keen as the pleasure of contending with it, and, if possible, of overcoming it. That is why I acceded to Wittgenstein’s request to compose a concerto for him. I carried out my task with enthusiasm.”
Ravel continued: “In a work of this kind, it is essential to give the impression of a texture no thinner than that of a part written for both hands … I resorted to a style that is much nearer to that of the more solemn kind of traditional concerto.” At the same time, he allowed himself to be influenced by American blues and jazz to create within the concerto “an episode in the nature of an improvisation.”
Ironically, Wittgenstein was not immediately enamoured of the concerto and after he made a number of changes to Ravel’s score for its private debut, pianist and composer fell out. Wittgenstein would later play the score as it was written for the official premiere but Ravel, though he was widely considered to be France’s greatest composer, would spend the rest of his life trying to ensure the concerto was played as he’d intended, protesting vociferously when other pianists adapted the piece for two hands.
On hearing Ravel’s fiercely guarded concerto for the first time some 70 years after it was written, McCarthy says: “It gave me a thirst. I immediately wanted to know what else was out there, written for left hand alone. Now that I’d heard what could be done with five fingers, I was filled with excitement and self-belief.” It turned out there were more than 3,000 works, many of which were written in response to the number of musicians injured on the battlefield during the First World War.
Aged 17, McCarthy already had a place at the Junior Guildhall. “But when I got hold of the music, my jaw hit the floor. At the end of the concerto is a large cadenza. Just pages and pages of black notes. I’d listen to the music and follow the score. I wasn’t yet ready to play it by any means but it became my goal. I couldn’t wait to walk on stage and perform with an orchestra.”
At the age of nineteen, McCarthy first played the concerto with an orchestra as a student at The Royal College of Music. In 2012, he became the first one-handed pianist to graduate from the College in its 130-year history. That same year, he played alongside Coldplay in the closing ceremony of the Paralympics. He’s since played all over the world from the Royal Albert Hall to the USA, South Korea, China and Kazakhstan.
The Ravel is still one of his concert favourites. He most recently performed it in October 2019 in Krasnoyarsk, with the Siberian State Symphony Orchestra. It was McCarthy’s first time playing in Russia. “The Russians have such attention to detail when it comes to anything to do with the arts.”
Unfortunately, the pandemic put paid to most of McCarthy’s 2020 concert schedule, including a tour of China, but he’s keeping everything crossed that two socially distanced concerts in the UK – in Snape Maltings – will go ahead on 8 November. The same day he presents a one-hour special for BBC Radio 3 on two centuries of left-hand repertoire.
In lockdown, McCarthy has been inspiring a new generation of musicians with online concerts and classes. “I haven’t taught the Concerto for Left Hand to any of my students but I have introduced a lot of people to it. It’s not an easy listen on first encounter. It’s not hugely melodic. It took me two or three listens to appreciate the piece as a teenager. Listen out for the jazz motifs. Suddenly there comes a melody from nowhere. There are east Asian influences too.”
When asked which recordings of the concerto he most admires, McCarthy immediately recommends Chinese classical pianist Yuja Wang. However, he retains a soft-spot for the Samson Franois rendition his beloved grandfather sought out to share with him.
“My grandfather was always hugely supportive of my musical career. Unfortunately, he didn’t ever get to hear me perform Ravel’s Concerto for Left Hand with an orchestra – he died shortly before I played at the Paralympics – but every time I play it, I think of him.”
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