newjerseynewsroom.com

BY WARREN BOROSON

NEWJERSEYNEWSROOM.COM

In many ways, the world-renowned pianist Byron Janis has led a fulfilling, enviable life.

Famous as a child prodigy, he later played all over the world and made a great many recordings.

He has met and befriended many noted people, including Vladimir Horowitz, Pablo Picasso, Jascha Heifetz, Arturo Toscanini, and Marc Chagall.

His wife, Maria, is tall, willowy, and smashingly good-looking. A gifted artist, she’s the daughter of the actor Gary Cooper.

But his life has also had its share of tragedies.

In the 1970s, while his career as a pianist was flourishing, he was afflicted with psoriatic arthritis. It affected his hands and his wrists. When physicians saw X-rays of his hands, they said: This man, whoever he is, simply cannot play the piano.

But he did. Painfully. In fact, he played for 12 years without revealing that he had arthritis. “It was a constant battle, but if I hadn’t kept up my standards, I would have stopped immediately,” he has said. He underwent five operations on his hands. Not all of them were successful. One incompetent surgeon operated on his thumb — leaving it a half-inch shorter than his other thumb.

At that point, Janis became severely depressed. He remained depressed — until he started composing. He wrote the music for a documentary about his famous father-in-law, then composed music for a musical of “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” As he has written, “Living with arthritis may have deformed my life and my hands, but I still drew strength from the discipline of daily practice — and now from a new source, the joy of composing.”

His depression lifted.

In 1988, at a concert at the White House, First Lady Nancy Reagan was the first to announce that he had arthritis and would become the National Ambassador for the Arts for the Arthritis Foundation. Said Janis, memorably, “I have arthritis, but arthritis does not have me.”

The Wall Street Journal wrote a few weeks ago, “This peerless pianist rose above hand surgery and debilitating arthritis to continue performing magnificently, offering hope to many who suffer from this affliction.”

As mentioned, Janis has met many famous people. In 1944 he played for Vladimir Horowitz, who asked him to become his first pupil.

Horowitz, Janis says, had a wonderful sense of humor. When people would come up to him and say, “You know, you look like Vladimir Horowitz,” Horowitz would look surprised and reply, “You know, a lot of people tell me that!”

He was a splendid teacher. “Paint in more oils, not only in watercolors,” he told Janis. “Exaggerate in your playing. You can always cut back, but you cannot always add.” And when he was unhappy with something Janis had played, he didn’t offer any solutions: He wanted Janis to devise his own solution. “You want to be a first Janis, not a second Horowitz.” Says Janis, “He didn’t want to over-teach me.”

Another key person in Janis’s life was Samuel Chotzinoff, NBC’s music director. Chotzinoff took the young Janis to a rehearsal by Horowitz and Toscanini, saying at the conclusion, “That is how you should play.” He also took him to a concert given by Ignace Jan Paderewski, the world-famous Polish pianist and statesman, who was extremely old at the time. “That,” said Chotzinoff, “is how you should NOT play.”

Still another key person: composer Frederic Chopin. Janis fell in love with Chopin’s music when he was only “7 or 8,” and he has specialized in Chopin’s music. He quotes Franz Liszt on Chopin: “a man from another planet.” As for his music, “Nothing like it had been heard before nor has been heard since.” Just this year, EMI Classics issued a CD, “The Byron Janis Chopin Collection,” whose cover features a memorable sketch by Maria.

The jacket copy states: “Yet this album is important for another reason, beyond the pianist’s legendary abilities. In 1967, Janis discovered unknown versions of the Waltz in G flat major and the Grand Valse Brillante in E flat major, and six years later discovered alternate versions of the same pieces in the manuscript collection of Yale University.” He found one in 1967, in a trunk marked “old clothes” in a chateau. Six years later, visiting Yale University, he asked to see a folder resting on a high shelf. It contained the two waltzes, written one year earlier.

With a name like Byron Janis, one might not suspect that he is among the many famous Jewish pianists – Rubinstein, Horowitz, Kapell, Serkin, Schnabel, Gilels, and on on.

But the family name was Yankilovich, then it became Yanks, then Jannes, then Janis. Not only that, but Janis’s father, back in Russia, studied briefly for the rabbinate. And Janis himself identifies with the Jewish people and is a warm supporter of Israel.

Invited to perform in Germany years after World War II, he hesitated. “The horrors of the Nazi era haunted me,” he wrote.

But was this a new and different generation he would play for? He asked to meet a group of young Germans. Had their parents noticed what was happening to the Jews? No, some of them said. Others scoffed at this denial.

Janis then played in Berlin, to great acclaim. He played in Munich, too, to more acclaim, and played four encores, including one by Felix Mendelssohn — a DNA Jew despised by the Nazis — but the audience was less enthusiastic. The local newspaper mentioned all the encores he had played — except the Mendelssohn.

Janis is unusually honest. The mezuzah on the doorpost of his crowded, comfortable apartment on Park Avenue in New York City? Left there years ago by the previous tenant. Can I publish a photograph of him wearing a tallit? He demurs: That would suggest he’s more religious than he is.

Still, his wife says that he’s the most spiritual person she’s ever met. Janis himself is tolerant of all religions: “Religiosity,” he says, “is not as important as spirituality.”

In a recent two-hour interview, flanked by two pianos, Janis commented perceptively on a variety of subjects. He speaks very quietly; the phone rang almost incessantly. It was a hot day, and his wife mercifully served her guests cold drinks.

Among the questions and answers: Who is your favorite composer? “You can’t compare beauty. Chopin or Beethoven? It may depend on the time of day, or the mood you are in….”

“Today’s young musicians practice eight hours a day trying to achieve technical perfection. But they may lose their individuality. Four hours a day is enough.”

Q: Who are your favorite conductors?

A: “If you are talking about great accompanying conductors, there was Ormandy, Steinberg, and Kondrashin. Some great conductors are not great accompanists. I have often wondered, ‘Could it be a problem of ego?’”

Q: What did Horowitz mean when he said, play from your stomach?

A: “It means that your stomach has to be involved, particularly in forte playing, to get the kind of sound you need.”