Great artists of the past deserving the most attention from posterity often receive the least. The few documents of their life, critical indifference to their stature, or a meagre amount of recordings contribute to this neglect. More than an hour survives of Vassily Sapellnikoff's playing. Its lucidity, refinement, and high level of artistry was formed by Sophie Menter, an eminent Liszt pupil. Sapellnikoff had met Liszt a few times; it is uncertain if he received musical advice. A brief biography once appeared in the Musical Observer (Dec. 1910):
"Wassili (Basil) Sapellnikoff was born [in] Odessa, Russia, and first studied music under his parents, both of whom were proficient musicians. He appeared in public at the age of seven, but, having devoted most of his attention to the violin up till then, it was as a violinist that he came forward. He contnued to study this instrument, as well as the piano, until he was introduced to the great [Anton] Rubinstein, who was so impressed with the boy's talents at the piano, that he immediately advised him to concentrate his musical gifts in the direction of the keyboard, realising the future that lay before him.
"At the advice of this great master, Sapellnikoff entered the Conservatoire of St. Petersburg, where he studied the pianoforte and theory for five years under L. Brassin and Sophie Menter.
"[Sapellnikoff had] a rugged grandeur about his playing, a perfect command of the keyboard; to hear him in a varied program is a never-to-be- forgotten experience. His playing of Beethoven is the revelation of the real genius; the impressive and sonorous tones which he can draw from his instrument, combined with his breadth of style, and the beauty of interpretation place him at once in the front rank of Beethoven players. He has a most extensive repertoire, some twenty-five concertos and hundreds of other works. He is also a composer of note, and a conductor of high attainments." Soon afterwards, he appeared with the Queens Hall Orchestra on Dec 13, 1910 to commemorate the approaching Liszt centenary. Sapellnikoff offered both Piano Concertos, the Wanderer Fantasy of Schubert and the Hungarian Fantasia.
Sapellnikoff was an intimate of Tchaikovsky and his preferred interpreter. Their association began in 1888 in Germany. Tchaikovsky wrote a " Diary of My Tour in 1888": 17 Jan. Hamburg: "At the second rehearsal I experienced a rare delight at the success which fell to the lot of our young compatriot Sapellnikoff. This young artist had been invited at the recommendation of Madame Sophie Menter (in whose class he had finished his course at the Conservatoire of St. Petersburg) to play, under my conductorship, my difficult Piano Concerto , No.1.
"On the eve of my departure from Petersburg I had occasion to hear Sapellnikoff's playing; and although I had been able to form some slight appreciation of its fine quality, yet- owing, perhaps, to the bustle and haste which preceeds a long journey- I did not at the time observe all the rare qualities possessed by this sympathetic young pianist. Now, at the rehearsal, as Sapellnikoff surmounted one after another the inconceivable difficulties of my concerto, and gradually revealed all the power and distinctiveness of his colossal gift, my enthusiasm increased, and, what was still more agreeable, it was shared by the whole orchestra, who applauded him warmly between each break, and particularly at the end. A rare force, beauty, and brilliancy of tone; inspired warmth of rendering; a wonderful power of self-restraint; finish of detail, musical sensibility, and complete self-confidence- these are the distinguishing characteristics of Sapellnikoff's playing. Famos, unglaublich, kolossal! were the expressions which escaped from the musicians as soon as they had finished their ovation. I need not say how I rejoiced at this genuine and hearty outburst of enthusiasm called forth from these German artists by our future great pianist. There are so many mediocre pianists; it is hard to distinguish oneself in this career; and to be able thus suddenly to astound and carry away a body of strange musicians is a thing to be proud of!
"After the concert there was a large supper-party. [. . .] When the party was over, some of my new friends carried off Sapellnikoff and myself to a Bier- Kneipe , where we talked and drank beer until two in the morning. But this was not the end; we were then persuaded to go on to one of the Viennese cafes which, in Hamburg, remain open all night, and there we sat a long time, making libations to Bacchus. Another day the Tonkunstlerverein gave an evenig in my honour. Only my music was performed. A young lady- a Fraulein Nathan- sang some of my songs, and Sapellnikoff played three of my pieces." To Modeste Tchaikovsky, Leipzig, Jan 20, 1888 on his hectic pace and homesickness:
"My sole comfort is the society of Siloti, Brodsky and Grieg and his wife. But besides these, every day I make new and sympathetic acquaintances. I take Sapellnikoff with me wherever I go, and have introduced him to many people in the musical world. Wherever he plays he creates a sensation. I am more and more convinced of his superb talent. . .
"I went to a Quartet Concert, at which I heard a quartet by an exceedingly gifted Italian, Busoni. I quickly made friends with him." To Modeste, Berlin Jan 23 1888:
"I have made great progress in my conducting. Wolf gave a large dinner- party at my desire, in order that all the great lights here might hear Sapellnikoff. All the critics were there. Sapellnikoff created a furore . For the last three weeks we have been inseparable. I have grown so fond of him, and he so attached and good to me- just as though he were a near relation. Since Kotek's days I have never cared for anyone so much. It is impossible to imagine anyone more sympathetic, gentle, kindly; more delicate-minded and distinguished. On his return I beg you not only to be friendly to him, but to introduce him to all our relatives. I consider him- and I am not alone in my opinion- a future genius as regards the piano." To Modeste, Apr. 7, 1889 Paris:
"Vassia played for Colonne yesterday evening. After the Chopin Polonaise Colonne was astonished, and said he would engage him next year and do 'les choses en grand' . . . Vassia has made a furore ."
Tchaikovsky and Sapellnikoff later toured in England. After Tchaikovsky's death, Sapellnikoff taught in Moscow. His travels brought him throughout Europe; the final stop was San Remo, Italy where his death in 1941 went unmentioned in the press, due to the interest in a bicycle race. His artistry is characteristic of Pre-Soviet Russians, elegantly clear and with finesse, similar to Siloti. The Concerto is played lyrically, a model of thematic cohesion unlike the octave exhibitionism it later degenerated into. One can hear Brahms played freely by those who knew the composer: Sapellnikof's Tchaikovsky is chaste, introspective and precise. Today all is sadly reversed. How I Eluded the Bolsheviks by Sapellnikoff, The Great Pianist
Music and adventure have really little in common and the life of a pianist is probably more calm and placid than that of most people. But it so happens that I am a Russian, and it is the fact that my country is now ruled by Bolsheviks that led to the most exciting adventure of my life.
Without entering into politics I may explain that I never had any fondness for the Bolsheviks, and possibly they were not particularly partial to me. The crisis arose over a concert which they organised in Odessa. They asked me to play, and though I was not very anxious to do so I agreed to play on condition that they provided me with a good instrument for my performance. On the day of the concert I went to the theatre and examined the piano. It was not only out of tune but the keys were yellow with age, and the keyboard was shorter than the usual size. I decided that I could not do myself justice on such an instrument, and that I would not play it, but how to do so without offending the organisers was a delicate question.
I went home and wrote a note stating that I had taken ill, and would be unable to be present at the concert. I had this note delivered, and then, in order to avoid awkward interviews, I went out. Surely enough, two emissaries of the Bolsheviks soon arrived at my house, and demanded to see me. They were informed that I was too ill to be seen, but they said I had been announced to play, and play I must. When they found that I was not on the premises they became furious, and informed my sister that before many hours were over I would be made to realise that it was my duty to obey orders! I was not left long in doubt as to their intentions, for next morning a red card arrived summoning me to appear before the local Bolshevik tribunal and explain why I had not carried out the request made to me to play at the concert.
I knew the ruthless ways of the local tribunal only too well, and realised that if something were not done I might be severly punished. The only solution of the difficulty was to obtain a doctor's certificate stating that I was too ill to appear, so I hurried off to a doctor. I told him of my dilemma, and after a little persuasion, and a certain amount of financial inducement, he gave me the necessary certificate. In fear and trepidation I forwarded this to the tribunal and fortunately they decided not to impose a penalty.
But this incident was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was tired of Bolshevik tyranny, which had been displayed in all kinds of ways, and I made up my mind to escape from the country. That, of course, was more easily said than done, for the men in authority kept a strict eye upon the movements of everybody, and to be caught in the act of escaping was to run the risk of being shot.
With the connivance of a friend I managed to obtain the necessary documents to enable me to reach Kiev, but I still had to get to the frontier and cross it. I enlisted the help of another friend, and after various difficulties and moments of tense anxiety I reached the frontier. There I found myself confronted by a fairly deep river, with Red soldiers posted at intervals along it, ready to shoot anyone who attempted to cross. It was a tough problem, but the sight of the "Promised Land" over the water filled me with more determination than ever. I discovered a peasant who was familiar with the movements of the soldiers, and we concocted a plan to cross the river at a quiet spot during the night. At the appointed time, I met him, and, without making a sound, lest we should disturb the guard, we undressed. I was unable to swim, but as I was told that the water was not too deep I was not perturbed.
Noiselessly, I slipped in, and presently found that the water, icy cold and almost numbing in its effect, was up to my neck. Another inch or two and I should have been in serious difficulties, but the knowledge that armed soldiers, with orders to fire on runaways, were not far distant compelled me to be silent at all costs, and slowly I forged my way forward to the goal. Behind me swam the peasant with my clothes on his back.
Luckily, no alarm was raised, and after what seemed an endless ordeal I reached the opposite bank. I was in Poland, secure at last from Bolshevik rule, and able to breathe the pure air of freedom. What a relief! I almost danced with joy. My next step was to go to the house of a relative, who hardly recognised me, so thin and emaciated had I become through want of nourishing food. I was so hungry that I visited three restaurants in order to satisfy my appetite, for I felt too ashamed to order all I wanted in one restaurant.
I have never returned to my native country since, and in present circumstances, have no desire to do so.
Music Masterpieces, April 19, 1926.
© Allan Evans, 1996