As the old saying goes: it’s not where you start, it’s where you finish that counts. But even so, some of the most lauded classical artists of the 20th century have made spectacularly inauspicious debuts in the pages of Gramophone. How about this review from January 1967 – can you guess who the conductor of this new recording of Beethoven’s Seventh with the Vienna Philharmonic might be? 

‘This is a disappointment. Having heard such glowing reports of this young conductor's performances, I was expecting great things, but by the standards of the gramophone this is a slack performance. On this evidence the conductor has yet to learn how to keep rhythm alive, to give "lift" to any measure by subtle pointing…Anything less like "the apotheosis of the dance" I cannot imagine. It is a pity so young a conductor was tried out on so obviously competitive a work, one which provides so many unexpected pitfalls. Colin Davis admittedly made an outstanding success of it early in his recording career, but maybe that in itself is a lesson.’

Ouch. And the identity of the unfortunate conductor in question? None other than Gramophone Hall of Fame honoree, Claudio Abbado, who went on to become one of the most respected conductors of our time.

Abbado’s friend and collaborator for many years, pianist Martha Argerich, fared only a little better in her first Gramophone review (1/62):

‘There is no shortage of pianists with the kind of technique that enables them to tackle anything – and now here comes another to join them. Before she steps into the ranks one ought perhaps to say that Martha Argerich can claim to be considered something of a phenomenon even among virtuosi: her technique is prodigious and she is only 21. When she realises that there's more to a presto than mere speed, more to double octaves than mere thunder, and more to music than keyboard effectiveness, I'm sure she will be quite a pianist. I mustn't presume to lecture her, but I can't help feeling it's a pity that the musical warmth behind her intentions is so often smothered by the sheer headiness of her playing.’

Other young artists have fared much better, and there have been some uncanny predictions of future greatness. Here, for example, is an extract from Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau’s first ever review in Gramophone (12/51) of songs by Schubert and Schumann: ‘There seems no doubt that, if he conserves his resources and is not, like so many young and successful artists, led into singing everything everywhere, Fischer-Dieskau has it in him to become the finest male Lieder singer of today.’ 

Fischer-Dieskau was 26 at the time of this review, but some artists made their Gramophone debuts whilst still teenagers. Here’s Simon Rattle’s (‘Here and There’, 8/74): ‘Simon Rattle (19) has won the John Player International Conductors Award for 1974…Mr Rattle, who won from over 200 applicants, of which he was the youngest, is at the RAM, and his prize involves 40 engagements with the Bournemouth SO and Sinfonietta, as well as engagements with the CBSO, LPO, SNO and Northern Sinfonia. At the final concert of the competition in Portsmouth's Guildhall he conducted a Concerto Grosso by Handel and Richard Strauss's Don Juan, reputedly the trickiest piece in the repertory to get off the ground!’

But the first prize for precocious youth must surely go to Daniel Barenboim (2/56):

‘Daniel Barenboim is the 12-year-old Argentine-Israeli pianist who has been in the news lately, and I can only hope and pray that he will not be in it again for some time. His technique is prodigious and provided he is not made to spend his time on concert tours when he ought to be educating himself in non-musical as well as musical subjects, he can hardly fail to finish up as one of the great pianists of his day. He certainly isn't that yet, but he is said to know 14 concertos by heart and to be studying composition with Nadia Boulanger and conducting with Markevitch so he has made a goodish start.’ (It is amusing to reflect on the idea that studying with Nadia Boulanger and Igor Markevitch can be considered only a ‘goodish’ start for a 12-year-old!)

Leonard Bernstein was another artist who started to make considerably waves as a young man. His first mention in Gramophone was in an article titled ‘An American looks at England’ by Jerome Pastene (9/44): 

‘Leonard Bernstein, who is in his middle twenties, has had a remarkable musical history. A student of music at Harvard University, he attracted the attention of Dr Koussevitzky in the conducting classes which the Boston conductor held at the Berkshire Institute in Tanglewood. The close acquaintance and friendship established there with leading composers, notably Hindemith and Copland, no doubt matured him, but did not alter his own personal creative line. Last year, he was selected by Artur Rodzinski to become Assistant Conductor of the Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra of New York, and, when illness simultaneously prevented both Walter and Rodzinski from conducting a Sunday concert that was to be broadcast over a world-wide network, he stepped into the breach, and although he had not conducted the orchestra in public before and had, I believe, taken no part in the rehearsals, he led the scheduled programme with an aplomb and a fire which elicited ‘rave’ notices from all critics. I have known Leonard Bernstein since he was a student at Boston Latin School and Harvard and I have never faltered in my conviction that he possesses a remarkable strain of genius.’

Of course, nobody knows what the future may hold, and so some of the greatest artists make the smallest first impression. Here, for example, is Glenn Gould’s extremely slight debut mention in Gramophone (2/56) by Harold C Schonberg: 

‘An interesting Columbia debut is that of Glenn Gould, a young Canadian pianist who played Bach's Goldberg Variations with some original ideas that never sound eccentric.’ 

Maria Callas’s first mention, on the other hand, more than hinted at the greatness to come (8/51):

‘I cannot refrain from mentioning an artist who has recently come to the fore in Italy – the soprano Maria Meneghini Callas. She has sung roles as widely differing as Isolde, and Elvira in Puritani, and according to report, with equal success. I have two Cetra records of her and I find them quite exceptional among modern Italian sopranos. I am not entirely happy about a slight tremolo on her upper sustained notes, nor about the occasional approach to these notes, but she sings in the grand manner, with an unusually beautiful timbre, and true pathos at her command, while her coloratura is quite excellent. I recommend her recordings to EMI, and hope that she will be given the recognition she deserves.’ 

And even when the reception to Callas's first discs was mixed (‘The chromatic scales in the Cabalella are fairly smoothly sung, but the whole thing is too explosive.’ 12/51) the reviewer still felt compelled to write that ‘I have no doubt that Maria Callas will do a great deal better than this in the future’. 

For those who today despair at the news coverage afforded to Saturday-night TV karaoke competitions, let this review of Luciano Pavarotti’s first disc (11/64) serve as a gentle reminder that ‘twas ever thus: 

‘The sleeve-note to this disc tells us, “It was in October 1963 while singing in La bohème at Covent Garden that he was asked to appear at very short notice at the top of the bill in Sunday Night at the London Palladium”. Such is fame these days. I should have liked to think that Mr Pavarotti's success at Covent Garden was what put him on the map and the Palladium was just a popular “perk” as a result.’

And finally, to complete this saunter through the Gramophone Archives, here is the introduction of an exciting new tenor from October 1968. A valuable reminder, perhaps, that when we happen across an unfamiliar name commended to us in the pages of Gramophone, more often than not it is a good idea to sit up and listen: 

‘Extraordinary events take place these days in the outer suburbs of London, where forward-looking local authorities have built fine modern assembly halls for a variety of functions. One summer night Sir John Barbirolli was recording Otello with Gwyneth Jones, James McCracken and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau at Walthamstow, while over in Barking Richard Mohr of RCA had come from America to record the Mexican tenor Plácido Domingo in a recital disc with the RPO under Edward Downes. Mr Domingo is an ebullient man of 28 with an enthusiastic outlook and an eclectic taste in opera. The son of zarzuela singers, he has a sensitive appreciation of the zarzuela repertory, and it would be splendid if he could persuade RCA to restore some of the best of them to the catalogue. In fact it was after singing in Caballero's enchanting burlesque El dúo de La africana that the young baritone switched to tenor, since when he has enjoyed considerable success at the New York City Opera. He appears at the Met this month, and hopes to sing in the Verdi Requiem under Giulini in London next May.’ 

And so began another journey... 

Looking at this month’s issue, it is tempting to wonder: which of those making their debut appearances in Gramophone will go on to be the great artists of the future?

James McCarthy