Reviewed by: Gaspar Cassadó: Cellist, Composer and Transcriber by Gabrielle Kaufman John Moran Gaspar Cassadó: Cellist, Composer and Transcriber. Gabrielle Kaufman. Abingdon: Routledge 2017, [xviii, 280 p. ISBN 9781472467157 (hardback), $160.00; 9781315583792 (e-book), varies.] 27 figures, 80 music examples, 12 tables, appendices, discography, bibliography, index. In response to a question about how history would regard him, the subject of this book said prophetically in a 1963 radio interview, "We artists are like butterflies: when you die, it's finished" (p. xv). The Catalan cellist Gaspar Cassadó (1897–1966) is surprisingly little known today considering that he was one of the three most highly regarded cellists in the early [End Page 293] decades of the twentieth century and the student most closely associated with his world-famous teacher, Pablo Casals. Unlike his chief onetime rivals, Gregor Piatigorsky and Emanuel Feuermann, comparatively little has been written about him. (Feuermann is the beneficiary of two biographies in English: Seymour W. Itzkoff's Emanuel Feuermann, Virtuoso [Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1979; 2nd ed., Schweinfurt: Reimund-Maier, 1995] and more recently Annette Morreau's Emanuel Feuermann [New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2002]. Piatigorsky, in addition to his own autobiography, Cellist [Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1965], is the subject of Terry King's Gregor Piatigorsky: The Life and Career of the Virtuoso Cellist [Jefferson, NC: Macfarland, 2010] and Margaret Bartley's novelized treatment of his life in Grisha [New Russia, NY: Otis Mountain Press, 2004].) Cellists are familiar with Cassadó's name because of two pieces he wrote that remain in the repertoire—his Suite for Cello (1926) and Requiebros (1932) for cello and piano—but otherwise tend not to know much more about him. Born into a musical family in Barcelona, Cassadó was the son of composer Joaquín Cassadó. At the age of ten, aided by a scholarship from the city, he moved with his family to Paris so that he could study the cello with his compatriot Pablo Casals, who was then at the height of his career as a performer yet took a high level of interest in the young cellist's development, teaching him for over five years. In Paris, Cassadó also had instruction in composition from Maurice Ravel and Manuel de Falla. After World War I, he had a successful solo career performing with renowned conductors across Europe, including Thomas Beecham, Wilhelm Furtwängler, and Willem Mengelberg. He settled in Florence in the 1930s and then had a falling-out with Casals, who believed Cassadó did not take a strong enough stand against Fascism. At the Academia Chigiana in Siena, Cassadó's students included an American (Laurence Lesser), a German (Johannes Goritzki), and a Catalan (Marçal Cervera). In addition to his teaching, concertizing, and recording activities, he was a prolific composer and arranger, primarily for his own instrument. He married the Japanese pianist Chieko Hara, who was his frequent partner in duo repertoire. Gabrielle Kaufman divides her book into seven chapters, which focus on Cassadó's biography, his cello playing and that of his contemporaries, his composing, and his arranging. Three appendices provide lists of his works and arrangements as well as a discography. The biographical chapter is very useful, putting Cassadó in historical context with his contemporaries and giving the reader some general background about early twentieth-century Catalonia, especially Barcelona. Particu larly fascinating is Kaufman's view into a period that saw the rapid expansion of sound recording—her discography lists over one hundred recordings by Cassadó—and an increased demand for celebrity virtuosos. On the other hand, more details on his professional activity would have been welcome; the "biographical introduction" (pp. 1–34) that constitutes the first chapter of this book is disappointingly brief. For example, we learn that in Cassadó's 1957 recording for Vox of the six cello suites, BWV 1007–12, of Johann Sebastian Bach, he transposed Suite no. 4 up a whole step from E-flat to F major. However, Kaufman provides no information about where the recording was made or how it was received. Her characterization that recording the Bach suites was "an obligatory rite of passage for any famous cellist" (p. 29) seems anachronistic and might...
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