Preview: All at Queen's Hall

Published on Saturday 16 August 2008 19:52

WHEN it comes to trade secrets, the lives of the experienced accompanists passing through the Queen's Hall in the next few weeks must be chock full of corkers. What with singers forgetting their lines, divas refusing to rehearse and superstars turning up late, it's a wonder most don't collapse in a heap of shattered nerves at the mere mention of the word 'lieder'.

But what if the musician you're accompanying happens to be not only world-famous cellist Mischa Maisky, but also your dad?

"I find it very easy playing with my father," says 20-year-old Lily Maisky of the man who studied with the legendary Rostropovich. "It's always a precarious situation being the child of a great musician, because of the comparisons people make, but it'd be much worse if I was playing the same instrument."

The two will play a programme that includes Shostakovich's 'Cello Sonato' and Mischa Maisky's own transcriptions of romantic Russian songs. Lily, who "has a repulsion" for the term accompanist, has been playing the piano since she was three and a half. "I'm surrounded by so many musicians I can go to for advice that I don't feel the need to be in a conservatory. But I think I still need a lot of advice.

"I remember once playing a Schumann piece, and my dad accidentally hurled his bow into the audience. I had to finish on my own, trying to make it look normal." No huge disasters yet, though. "One thing I did inherit from my dad: when something goes wrong, we can put it right quickly."

For Malcolm Martineau, the charismatic accompanist and perennial audience favourite, who returns to the Festival this year with soprano Susan Bullock in her Edinburgh debut, glossing over the dodgy moments is all part of the job.

"You always know when it's going wrong, because the singer will usually turn round to the piano, a look of blind panic in their eyes," grins Martineau.

"If they forget their words, you save the day by jumping a few pages – you'd be surprised how little an audience notices if you cover up well. But the difficult thing is knowing how much more interesting to make it if it's going badly. You can't upstage the singer."

Martineau had his first taste of accompanying when his music teacher at George Watsons College in Edinburgh decided he wasn't up to the job of playing Schumann's 'Dichterliebe' and nominated 14-year-old Martineau to do it instead.

His big break came at the Royal College of Music, where he played for legendary soprano, Dame Janet Baker. "It was exactly like meeting the Queen but without the corgis," he says. "But she wasn't in the least bit grand."

Indeed, accompanists keep remarkably schtum about diva tendencies. Even Bryn Terfel, the most famous baritone in the world, is a model of earthiness according to Martineau. "When Bryn sings a nice phrase he'll always say something like, 'That's not bad for a farmer from North Wales.'"

Often, the star performer can be surprisingly humble, as veteran accompanist Helmut Deutsch points out. "When Jonas Kaufman finished his studies, he was almost painfully shy during rehearsals. He'd say, 'May I ask you this?' and 'I'm sorry to interrupt.' He couldn't forget I'd been his teacher. I had to stop it very quickly or we would never have had a normal working relationship."

Sometimes, of course, accompanists make mistakes too. "I remember I once left an entire song from a cycle in the dressing room during an important recital," says Deutsch, blushing. "Very embarrassing. I had to creep off stage halfway through to get it."

Deutsch, like Martineau, holds no truck with the issue that some accompanists – Americans call themselves 'collaborative artists' – have with their job title.

"When Bernstein conducted a piano concerto, he was also accompanying – it is no disgrace."

All at Queen's Hall (0131-473 2000), 11am: Susan Bullock and Malcolm Martineau, Tuesday; Helmut Deutsch, Christiane Oelze and Olaf Bar, Wednesday; Mischa and Lily Maisky, Thursday www.eif.co.uk