Reviews
As with so many features of nineteenth-century cultural life, Russia first borrowed, then assimilated, and finally re-exported the piano to Western Europe, and in Piano Makers in Russia in the Nineteenth Century, Anne Swartz deftly traces the story of how domestic uprights and concert grands became the chosen instruments of the Russian state. Whether in girls' schools and later conservatories in Moscow and St. Petersburg, in provincial drawing rooms as far away as Siberia and Central Asia, or in concert halls throughout the empire, the piano did much to foster modern Russia's sense of itself as an artistic nation. At the same time, Swartz never underestimates the role played by a vast serf and worker community in supporting cultural production in Imperial Russia. Swartz's study will be obligatory reading for anybody interested not just in Russian music and society but also in how innovative methods of economic analysis can shed new light on the arts in the nineteenth century., Anne Swartz's Piano Makers in Russia in the Nineteenth Century comprehensively fills a massive gap in the history of the piano. Her extensive research has opened a hitherto closed door and revealed the makers, the performers, the critical relationship of the piano industry and music education with the Russian throne, and its role across the socio-economic levels of the population, as well as its relationship to the rest of Europe. This book is a necessary component in the library of any serious scholar of the piano., With monumental performers such as Shostakovich, Yudina, Rachmaninoff, Horowitz, Prokofiev, Scriabin, and Richter it is clear that Russia has served as a cradle for extraordinary pianists. Anne Swartz's brilliant book sheds new light on how it got that way. Focusing on issues of technology, gender, material culture, and industry, and ranging from Moscow to the Far East, Swartz's important work illustrates the process through which the piano came to occupy center stage in the Russian imagination., The history of the piano has long centered on the familiar network of Vienna, Paris, London, and the plethora of German makers. Russia has been a footnote. In this remarkably comprehensive and riveting narrative, Swartz uses the lens of the piano to illuminate countless fresh facets of Russian culture, going far beyond the author's overly modest title. Among scores of delectable revelations, who knew the favored piano of both Anton Rubinstein and Tchaikovsky was a Becker?
