Josef Gingold
December 12, 2024
I first met the violinist Josef Gingold in 1956 at Meadowmount, my teacher Ivan Galamian’s summer music camp. Actually, I heard Gingold before I saw him. On my way to my first string quartet coaching with him, I stopped, mesmerized, before the music studio entrance, listening to Gingold playing for himself while he awaited us. I don’t remember the music, but his golden, heartfelt sound, his intelligence, his musical sensitivity, and a stylishness reminiscent of the violin masters of his youth, utterly bewitched me. I thought to myself that this was the way I had always imagined a violin should sound.
In fact, as the four of us were introduced to Gingold and the coaching progressed, it became apparent that there was little distance between the violinist and the man. Gingold had been a member of the distinguished Primrose String Quartet, and obviously knew the Ravel String Quartet we played for him inside and out. But aside from Gingold’s invaluable comments, his deep love for the music and his great personal warmth melted the nervousness we must have felt playing before such an eminent artist. And as the coachings continued, the Ravel Quartet came alive in another way with Gingold’s stories: how the Ravel was inspired by the Debussy Quartet composed ten years earlier, how the first performance of the Debussy was given by the Ysaÿe String Quartet, named after the renowned Belgian violinist Eugene Ysaÿe, how Gingold as a youngster had gone to Europe to study with Ysaÿe, and how he quickly had to learn French because Ysaÿe allowed only the first two lessons to be conducted in English, and from then on in French. With this brew of essential musical information, fascinating historical background, and vivid personal stories, we young students walked out of Gingold’s lessons with a new-found excitement at the thought that we might one day become accomplished musicians. Such was the magic spell Gingold cast on each of us.
Josef Gingold, born in 1908, emigrated with his Jewish family from the then-Russian Empire to the United States in 1920. He studied violin first with Vladimir Graffman in New York City and then moved to Belgium, where he studied for several years with Eugene Ysaÿe. In 1937 Gingold joined the NBC Symphony Orchestra with Arturo Toscanini, its conductor. Later, he became concertmaster of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, followed by concertmaster of the Cleveland Orchestra.
Gingold held that Cleveland position when I first met him, but his musical gifts were impressively broad. Not only a distinguished concertmaster, Gingold was also a consummate soloist, a thoughtful chamber music player, and an inspired teacher. But there was more. As the summer progressed, I learned of the vast scope of his musical understanding, listened to his stories of the legendary musicians he had known and performed with, and discovered his special love and encyclopedic knowledge of violins, violinists, and violin repertoire. Some of us for fun tried to fool him with arcane and somewhat faulty questions. “Mr. Gingold, do you know Anton Arensky’s Violin Concerto in A Minor, Opus 53?” “You mean Opus 54,” he corrected us.
And then there was Gingold’s sense of humor, both witty and sometimes wacky. When the violinist Jascha Heifetz recorded Johann Sebastian Bach’s Double Violin Concerto, playing both solo parts recorded separately and later put together in the engineering studio, I asked Gingold what he thought of the performance. “Isn’t Heifetz too old to still be playing with himself?” was his poker-faced response. And when I saw Gingold the next summer for the first time, I extended my right hand to shake his and asked how he was. Lightning quick, Gingold grabbed my hand, stuck it under his chin, and with his right hand began sawing away ferociously on my arm, “I’ve been practicing like crazy’, he said.
The three summers I worked with Gingold at Meadowmount were memorable, but I assumed that our musical paths were unlikely to cross again any time soon. How wrong I was! As I approached graduation from the Curtis Institute of Music the next year, George Szell, conductor of the Cleveland Orchestra, invited me to be its assistant concertmaster. I would be sitting next to the man whose deep love and knowledge of music had so affected me—concertmaster Josef Gingold. His role in the orchestra was a far cry from the intimate chamber music coachings I had experienced with him. Joe, as I now called him rather than “Mr. Gingold,” not only led the violin section with his brilliant playing, but had also developed a personal connection based on mutual musical admiration with Szell, a conductor with enormously high standards, This was no small accomplishment. Joe told me that the previous concertmaster, who shall remain nameless, went to Szell toward the end of his orchestra contract, and asked whether the conductor was happy with his playing. The reason was that he and his wife were thinking of buying a house in the city. Szell looked him in the eye and said, “Don’t buy the house.”
What a joy to be sharing the first stand with Joe, to see his collegial yet commanding relationship with the violin section, to listen to his heartfelt concertmaster solos, and to witness on rare occasions how Joe would double-talk Szell.
Yes, you heard that right. Double-talk. The Cleveland Orchestra’s concertmaster, or concertshyster, as Joe often liked to call himself, would double-talk people at the drop of a hat. I’d seen it happen at restaurants, when Joe would call the waitress over to order food and have a stream of sounds pour out of his mouth that sounded like English but had no meaning whatsoever except for real words inserted here and there such as “chicken” or “soup” or “salt and pepper.” The waitress would stand there befuddled for a moment thinking that it was her fault she didn’t understand this customer, who obviously was speaking perfect English.
It happened in orchestra rehearsals as well. Out of the blue, Joe would sometimes raise his hand to supposedly ask Szell’s advice. “Dr. Szell,” he would begin. (Szell had been given an honorary doctorate somewhere, and whether out of respect for the title or more likely in my opinion just having a bit of fun, Gingold would always refer to him as “Doctor.”) “Dr. Szell, what do you think about. . .” and here would come a torrent of double talk interspersed with words such as “bowing,” or “articulation.” When Joe’s nonsense question came to its end, Szell would stand on the podium silently for what seemed like an eternity, formulating an answer. All one hundred members of the orchestra would collectively hold their breaths, well aware of Joe’s penchant for double-talk, but also knowing that if Szell realized he was being made a fool of, Joe would be in trouble. Finally, Szell would respond by saying something like, “Joe, in this case I’ll leave the bowing options up to you,” followed by a huge sigh of relief from the orchestra.
Brahms Symphony #1. Tchaikovsky Symphony #5. Bartok Concerto for Orchestra. Under Szell’s direction the orchestra gave stunningly beautiful performances of these and so many other works. The two weekly subscription concerts were always sold out. Joe said that the highbrows came to the Thursday night concerts and the hee-brows to the Saturday concerts, referring to the sizable number of Jewish music lovers in the city.
And then came the day the orchestra and audience members alike were crestfallen to hear that their beloved Josef Gingold would be leaving at the end of the season to accept a teaching position at the Indiana University, Jacobs School of Music. Our loss was, of course, the school’s gain. For the next thirty years until Gingold’s death in 1995, he taught the violin masterfully at the school, but I believe his true gift was to convey the love of music and the love of life to countless adoring students. Gingold is remembered for having founded the Indianapolis Violin Competition, which continues to this day. For those of us who had the privilege of knowing the man, long after his death Josef Gingold remains very much alive in our hearts and minds.
Josef Gingold – Wieniawski Capriccio Valse
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Comments
“the previous concertmaster, who shall remain nameless”
I am not sure why Arnold does not want to mention the name of the Cleveland concertmaster for the 1946-1947 season, the season before Josef Gingold became concertmaster. After all it is possible to find out who he was (initials S__ T__, but I will not say any more).
An absolutely wonderful portrait of a truly great man. I was fortunate enough to meet him as he received one of many honors and a group of us from the Bach Aria Festival provided some music for the occasion, our honor ! Such a natural and gracious person, whose musical legacy is forever.
I loved that! I read once that on tour with the orchestra, Gingold and Szell had a game they played. They had a small “pocket” edition of the Mozart String Quartets. One of them would write out a single measure, and the other had to guess which quartet it was. I hope that it involved giving all four parts plus the key signature, but I don’t know. Anyhow, a great story… and a great game!
I met Mr. Gingold in 1972 after I performed Bach b. Then had him as chamber coach. then my teacher Mr. Galamian died after 10 years of studying with him. I think Mr. Gingold took pity on me as an orphaned student, and invited me for free lessons for more than 10 years whenever he was on school vacation. This is just the tip of the tip of the tip of the iceberg of his generosity. He never leaves my side ever to this day. Countless personal stories I have with him. Love him, and miss him. To this day, I cannot liten to his playing in company of others because I start sobbing. Thank you Mr. Gingold
Dear Arnold,
I love the stories you tell in this blog! No double talk, just human connections.
Thank you so much for this wonderful reminiscence of Mr. Gingold. I remember so clearly my first encounters with him at Meadowmount in ‘68 just before I went to Indiana as a cellist. In one quartet reading session (a highlight of my career ;-) he played incredibly softly yet with so much character, I’ve tried to match that quality ever since. Each time I met him in the hallway at IU, his welcoming smile and “Hello darling” warmed my heart, especially the time he beckoned me to his studio and gave me a photo of my teacher Bob Newkirk as a teen in Detroit, which he’d just found while going through his file cabinets. I was so lucky to have known him, and I’m so lucky to get your wonderfully written musings. Thank you!
Thank you, thank you! I was more than fortunate to be a school-age musician in the Gingold era in Cleveland, and his influence definitely spread into the public school music community in Cleveland and the suburbs as well. So many young people who perhaps never went further specifically in music benefitted from his example of leadership and obvious commitment to excellence. He made the world a better place.
Eavesdropping on a great man: I knew Mr. Gingold as an elegant man with an amazing mind and an incredible mastery of music and teaching the violin. While a student at Meadowmount I found they needed someone to bring Mr. Gingold the New York Times on Sunday mornings. (The task involved driving to town early in the morning on Sundays, waiting for the paper to be delivered from distant New York City, then driving to the Park Motor Inn, where Mr. Gingold was housed during the summers.) the first day I arrived with his paper I walked up to the door of his room and heard him playing the violin. He was either 74 or 75 years old at that time and I was amazed to hear him practicing on a Sunday morning! He seemed to have all the passages of every piece ever written easily at hand when I had seen him teaching, and his effortless playing and incredible memory made me think he would not need to practice. That said, as I eavesdropped outside his door I heard him playing the same things we were being trained to warm up on – scales in rhythms and various bowings, Schradieck finger exercises, and long slow notes. Each Sunday, I was greeted with the same routine and when I would finally knock at the door was so happy to see that pleasant smile and warm greeting from a true treasure of a human being. I think I cherish those memories as much as any other memories of him.
“the University of Indiana” A big no-no. It is Indiana University (aka IU)!
Your description of your coachings with Gingold remind me of my coachings and lessons with you. Some of my very favorite memories. Thank you, you were also both warm and inspiring.
Early in my career I had the pleasure of getting to know Felix Khuner, previously the second violinist in the Kolisch Quartet. We played in the San Francisco Opera Orchestra together and I had a lot of very educational conversations with him. When he was asked about JK, who had been concertmaster of many orchestras, including Cleveland and San Francisco, Felix’s comment was “JK had provided an extensive list of orchestras he had been concertmaster of, but I knew that was a list of orchestras that he had been kicked out of, as concertmaster.” !
This heartfelt tribute serves to link Mr. Gingold and our blogger. They are two outstanding violinists and musicians, and even greater humanitarians. Mr. Gingold replaced S_T_ Sam Thaviu as concertmaster of the Cleveland Orchestra. Mr. Gingold’s stand partners were a Who’s Who in violin world starting with Jacob Krachmalnick, Anshel Brusilow, Berl Seofsky,and the partner he adored, Arnold Steinhardt. When Arnold informed Mr. Gingold he would be leaving George Szell and the orchestra to form with his colleagues the Guarneri Quartet, Mr. Gingold displayed That one of a kind expressive smile from ear to ear. I think Michael Tree would appreciate this quip. Mr. Gingold and Arnold Steinhardt are composed of branches from the same tree. They will forever be linked to each other.
Thanks for your comment, Herby. Just in case some people don’t know one of the names you mentioned, an ‘n’ slipped out of Berl Senofsky.
love the “practicing like crazy” story. sandy
I played The Devil’s Trills for Gingold when i was 13- he left an indelible impression on me. I still remember how he suggested 2 things musically. 1. Right before the 2nd half of the intro the B flat- take more time and melt into the B natural next note. 2. At the very beginning of the fast part- re so re so- Go to the G string for the 4th note G natural and he yelled:” Courage!^_^”
Thank you again, dear Arnold, for bringing us your touching and colourful description
of the wonderful and unique Josef Gingold. How I wish I had had the great privilege of
knowing him but thanks to you and so many who studied with him and particularly his close friend and colleague Menahem Pressler, I feel I do know him and even how he spoke! You have such a wonderful way of bringing those you love and admire to life so that one easily can share that love and admiration with you! Please keep it up for our joy!
Love Annabelle
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