The story of Jewish musical life in Britain over the past 180 years overflows with both triumphs and tragedies.
When the paper was launched, Felix Mendelssohn was the most celebrated Jewish composer in the world and a great favourite of Queen Victoria. He was a practising Lutheran, but in 1930, a JC column noted him as a Jewish musician. The Nazis agreed, banning him.
This clash of race and faith affected Gustav Mahler too. In January 1897, the JC’s correspondent in Germany observed that he could not be considered for opera director in Vienna because he was born a Jew. Clearly, conversion was not enough.
Mahler’s short obituary in the JC of 26 May 1911 describes him as a “a strange personality” with “abrupt methods of address”. It added: “But music-providers were glad to put up with his eccentricities for the sake of his talent and power.”
Lionel Tertis GettyImages-2634580
Lionel Tertis
Nine years earlier, in 1902, the JC had carried its first mention of a “clever” 12-year-old pianist: the youthful Myra Hess. Soon, Dame Myra would be recognised as one of the greatest British pianists.
Lionel Tertis, who single-handedly elevated the viola to solo status, frequently popped up in the review pages. The son of a cantor, by the age of 13 he was a busker at Brighton; later he inspired works by Vaughan Williams, Ernest Bloch and many more.
The JC of 8 November 1929 ran a rare interview with the 12-year-old prodigy Yehudi Menuhin, under the beady eye of his protective father. Poised to perform at the Royal Albert Hall, he said: “I love the Hebrew language and I also love to read all about the history of the Jewish people.” They then went on a trip to Petticoat Lane.
Thus the triumphs; alongside them, the tragedies. The pianist Solomon — full name Solomon Cutner — had his career cut short by a stroke in 1956, which paralysed his right arm.
His obituary in 1988 explained that he was born in London’s East End, the seventh son of a tailor, and had made his debut aged eight.
With the rise of Hitler, Jewish refugees were an increasing presence. On 14 March 1939, the JC reported that a young violinist of 14 was giving a recital in aid of German children. Her name was Ida Haendel.
Yehudi Menuhin GettyImages-3354662
Yehudi Menuhin
“She is a keen sportswoman with a fondness for swimming and riding,” the reporter noted, “and she speaks five languages.”
Many refugees found themselves interned as “aliens”. Three young string players — Norbert Brainin, Siegmund Nissel and Peter Schidlof — were among them; they joined forces with cellist Martin Lovett to form the Amadeus String Quartet.
For refugee composers, life was especially challenging. Some were sidelined in the post-war years because their styles were tonal in an era when serialism, atonality and the use of electronics were in the ascendant.
Berthold Goldschmidt had to work at the BBC; Hans Gál, formerly director of the conservatory in Mainz, became professor of music at Edinburgh University.
When the Festival of Britain in 1951 heralded an explosion of artistic energy, Hess, Menuhin, Haendel and the Amadeus Quartet performed. “The months of May and June are to see such a riot of music-making,” said the JC.
This surge continued in the Sixties, with several Jewish concert promoters leading the way. Victor and Lilian Hochhauser introduced Soviet artists David Oistrakh, Sviatoslav Richter and Emil Gilels, as well as the Bolshoi and Kirov (later Mariinsky) opera and ballet companies.
Meanwhile, Raymond Gubbay spotted a market gap for accessible, affordable concerts. “You don’t need three tenners to go to Turandot,” he would say. “You can get in for two fivers.”
The musical power couple of the 1960s, Daniel Barenboim and Jacqueline du Pré (who converted to Judaism), collaborated with Itzhak Perlman, Pinchas Zukerman and Zubin Mehta in joyous music-making, preserved on film in the documentaries of Christopher Nupen. Du Pré inspired a generation of British cellists, including Steven Isserlis, Raphael Wallfisch and Robert Cohen.
Fanny Waterman, a Jewish piano teacher, in 1963 founded the Leeds International Piano Competition, one of the most important contests in the world, launching the careers of soloists Radu Lupu, Murray Perahia and András Schiff.
When the USSR began to allow Jewish emigration to Israel in the Seventies, a wave of musicians emerged.
Some were important teachers, such as the violin professor Felix Andrievsky and pianist Irina Zaritskaya; others were performers. In 1989, the curly-haired, 15-year-old violinist Maxim Vengerov took the Wigmore Hall by storm. Ten years later, the 20-something conductor, Vladimir Jurowski, was appointed music director of Glyndebourne.
In 2021, aged 49, he stepped down from the London Philharmonic Orchestra as the longest-serving maestro ever to hold the principal conductorship.
Around the turn of the millennium, renewed acceptance of tonal music made possible the rehabilitation of forgotten composers. Erich Wolfgang Korngold and Mieczyslaw Weinberg are becoming household names at last.
A new generation of musicians is on the rise. With composers such as Thomas Adès, Max Richter, Nimrod Borenstein and Na’ama Zisser and younger performers such as violist Shiry Rashkovsky and violinist Sasha Raikhlina, there is plenty to celebrate.
