SHELDON SHKOLNIK, pianist

Anyone who knew pianist Sheldon Shkolnik has to smile at the mention of his name.  He was a superb pianist and a highly sensitive accompanist -- one of the best musicians of his generation.  But that was not what musicians talked about when they talked about Sheldon.  It was his sense of humor -- which was utterly brilliant and highly unconventional.

Sheldon memory became immortalized not by something funny he said, but by an experience that happened to him -- which ranks among the most embarassing moments ever to befall a musician.  It should be noted that years after, Sheldon did not mind anyone telling this story about him.  Indeed, he often recounted it himself, upon request -- and there were numerous requests to hear it.

Sheldon had been engaged to perform the Scriabin Piano Concerto with the Kansas City Philharmonic.  This performance was the American premiere for this obscure work.  At the time, not only was this concerto still unperformed in the U. S., most musicians anywhere -- including pianists -- were not even aware of the work's existence.  Just before flying to Kansas City from New York for the rehearsals, Sheldon attended a reception at Steinway Hall in Manhattan -- where he made the acquaintance of the Artist and Repertoire Director for RCA Red Seal Records.  RCA Red Seal was then the major record label in classical music.  When Sheldon was asked what he was up to these days, he mentioned the upcoming premiere of the Scriabin Piano Concerto.  The RCA Records man suddenly became extremely interested.  "Hmmm.  A piano concerto by Scriabin?  I didn't even know he wrote one.  If it's halfway as good as the Rachmaninnov Second, it could be a blockbuster.  This piece is going to get recorded, and RCA has to get there first.  Listen, get me a tape of the concert in Kansas City -- and if it is any good, I'll send you England on the next plane and we'll record it with the London Symphony right away."  As Sheldon told the story:  "Here was my Big Break."

When he arrived in Kansas City -- where he was the guest of a very wealthy lady, a pillar of Society -- one of the first things he did was ask the conductor, Music Director Hans Schweiger, for permission to tape the concert, so he could send a copy to the head of RCA Records.  But Schweiger recoiled in horror.  "I could not possibly give you permission to do that.  Such permission could only come from the Musicians Union; and to do that, they would have to call a special meeting."  So Sheldon applied to the Musicians Union, and they called a special meeting -- which immediately turned into a highly contentious fracas over the principles involved and precedents set.  Permission was denied.

At this point, Sheldon's wealthy hostess decided to take matters into her own hands.  She was determined that Sheldon would have his tape to give to RCA Records and get his Big Break.  Her daughter had a battery-operated tape recorder, one of the first cassette machines on the market.  She took the tape recorder to her tailor -- who sewed it into the lining of her mink coat, and then ran the microphone through the sleeve and fastened it to the cuff.

At the concert, the hostess was sitting in the front row center, wearing her mink coat (with the microphone peeking out the sleeve).  Sheldon and the conductor walked on stage.  Sheldon sat down at the keyboard and the conductor picked up his baton.  In the moments just before the first notes of a piece, while the conductor hold his baton still to command everyone's attention, there is always absolute silence in a concert hall.  It was at this moment that the hostess reached inside her mink coat to initiate the recording. 

As all of you know, to make a recording, it is necessary to press both the red RECORD button and the FORWARD button simultaneously.  If one presses only the FORWARD button -- as happened here -- then the machine will play whatever is already on the tape.  In this case, the machine -- on which the VOLUME control had been carelessly set at its maximum -- played the cassette inside, which belonged to the hostess' teenage daughter.  And in that moment, just as the conductor prepared to give the downbeat, the machine blasted forth with the latest hit by Diana Ross and the Supremes.

Sheldon added: "The instant I heard it, I realized what had happened.  My blood froze."

Sheldon and I toured the mid-West together.  Among the concerts we played was a flute/piano recital on the Dame Myra Hess Concert Series in Chicago -- which was broadcast live on WFMT -- and a recital on the Cleveland Museum of Art Concert Series.  We played works with the biggest piano parts: the Reinecke, the Martinu, the Prokofiev.  He was an ideal partner. 

Sadly, Sheldon died a victim of AIDS a few years later.  He is sorely missed by many.