Spectrum 829. A primrose path

Rights Information
Year
1994
Reference
15109
Media type
Audio
Ask about this item

Ask to use material, get more information or tell us about an item

Rights Information
Year
1994
Reference
15109
Media type
Audio
Categories
Classical music radio programs
Radio programs
Sound recordings
Duration
00:36:50
Credits
RNZ Collection
David Galbraith, Circa 1930-, Interviewer
Jerome Cvitanovich, Interviewee

New Zealander David Galbraith's career as a concert pianist was something of a primrose path; awards came along easily and the rigours of study at London's Royal Academy were softened by an apartment in Regent's Park complete with butler. All that changed dramatically in 1974. He talks to Jerome Cvitanovich about his career.

In 1968 he was at the peak of his career, a star with a bright future however, Galbraith describes how “… being a concert pianist is a lonely sort of life” and that it took its toll.

Galbraith recalls how he was initially inspired to become a concert pianist in 1939. Brought up in the comfortable suburb of Remuera, Auckland he soon rose to make appearances on the local radio station and win top piano prizes. By the age of seventeen he was granted a government bursary to attend the Royal Academy in London.

He remembers there was a lot of paperwork and high-level auditions associated with the application. Galbraith played Bach, Beethoven and other classical pieces at the Town Hall without nerves and says he was just looking forward to some feedback. Success granted, he took the six and a half week boat trip to London arriving in 1949.

He describes how he won a prize after his first year which put him in a good light with the government, since he'd only received the scholarship for two years, the third applicable only if he showed promise.

Galbraith talks about living in London; rationing, evidence of bombing and the pea souper fog. He acknowledges that he was given a leg up in society by association with grand relatiives. His mother visited at the end of his first year and bought him a grand piano for his twenty-first birthday.

After an invite to a high society function he was invited to move into the top floor of a friend's Regency House in Regent’s Park, located opposite the Academy, and in this way continued to have a gentrified social and musical education.

Studies included piano lessons twice a week, practice whenever he could and harsh critique sessions with fellow students. Galbraith quotes his professor, Fred Jackson who spotted him in the magazine ‘Tatler’ and told him, “you’re treading the primrose path”. At the end of three years Galbraith graduated and performed a Festival Concert in London before setting sail back to New Zealand.

He returned in 1954 just as the Auckland Festival was just starting and immediately got involved. Galbraith talks about how at the age of twenty-four he was able to accomplish performance work that would have taken him years to accomplish in England. He toured with the Community Arts Service and performed to rural audiences who were very enthusiastic but often lacked decent pianos.

He recalls one experience when sitting down to play with Alec Lindsay’s String Orchestra in Invercargill (having had no time to practice on the Steinway prior) and realised some keys were sticking, some were making a funny sound and some not making any sound at all. At the after- concert party he was determined to find the music critic and head him off at the pass however before he had a chance, the journalist sang his praises saying he’d never heard Mozart played better, so he kept his mouth shut.

Galbraith talks about the time he played in public but forgot a note, muddling through half a bar until he was back on track, during which he received panic stricken looks from the conductor. He says although no one in the audience really noticed - to him, it was a monumental moment.

He tells of one concert where he witnessed an unfortunate incident while attending the performance of an English pianist in the Wellington Town Hall. She had an under the arm frock on with a zip fastener on the back which gave way so the whole front of her frock fell off. He says, she either had to stop (and get someone to sew her back up) or carry on, and she carried on. Somebody from the orchestra found a stole and placed it around her shoulders whilst she diligently played on.

Galbraith was known to be unconventional. He tells of the time following a swim at the beach in Oriental Bay he was running late for a rehearsal at the Town Hall and turned up in shorts which was greeted with enthusiasm by the orchestra but not the conductor - the incident was reported in the press.

As the years passed nerves gained, as did the strain of performing night after night. Then, following a kitchen accident where his left hand was badly burned and prevented him playing for some time he began to drink. Although he sought treatment, he says a rumour got out that he was having a nervous breakdown.

Following his hand’s recovery, he found a loss of extension which impacted his performance. So after twenty-odd years in the limelight he retired and was glad, because it was a strain physically and mentally, and very hard, lonely work.

He hasn’t played for fourteen years and doesn’t own a piano now, though still loves listening to music. He reflects on how he feels when they listen to the record of his 1968 performance accompanied by the Youth Orchestra in the Wellington Town Hall.