Sergei Rachmaninoff's Encounter with the Theremin: A Glimpse into the Mind of a Musical Genius

Sergei Rachmaninoff was one of the most celebrated composers and pianists of the 20th century, known for his Romantic-era compositions and virtuosic piano skills. However, he was also a keen observer of the musical world around him, as demonstrated in an account by James Thurber in The New Yorker in 1928. The article describes Rachmaninoff's attendance at a concert by the young Russian scientist Leon Theremin, who played music on an unusual instrument controlled by the movement of the player's hands. While Rachmaninoff's reaction was largely stoic, he did show moments of interest and even imitation, offering a glimpse into the mind of a musical genius encountering a new and unusual sound. This account provides a fascinating insight into the musical landscape of the time and Rachmaninoff's place within it, as well as shedding light on the relationship between traditional and experimental music in the early 20th century.

Rachmaninoff's response to the theremin, as told by James Thurber of The New Yorker, February 4 1928:

"Music Makers:

We were fortunate enough to be seated a few rows behind Rachmaninoff the other night in the Plaza ballroom when Theremin, the young Russian scientist, produced strange sounds, then tunes, and finally played Scriabin and Saint-Saëns by waving his hands gently at antennae on a box. Rachmaninoff was in his seat, an uncomfortable chair about fifteen rows back, many minutes before the strange concert began. As the curtains parted and revealed a lot of curious electrical apparatus, the pianist sat up straight and put on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles.

But when an immediately began to read an explanation of what was going to happen, Rachmaninoff took off his glasses and lapsed into reading several pieces of literature on the subject. These were spread out On his lap, he put on his glasses and took them off again every few minutes during the evening.

His interest was casual until Theremin produced the first semblance of a melody. Then Rachmaninoff turned around and smiled and lifted his eyebrows at some friends behind him. He applauded but twice, Once after the playing of Rubinstein's "Night" and once when the concert was finished. His applause was brief, soft-handed and unemotional. Although the long program and its final monotony caused about half the audience to depart before it was over, Rachmaninoff stayed till the last and did not appear restive.

At the beginning he had crossed his left leg over his right and he did not shift this position. When, as often happened, something went wrong musically, he showed no annoyance. His intervals of intense interest were comparatively few, but one of them was when Theremin and his pupil, Mr. Goldberg, played together Glinka's "Elegy." On one occasion he raised his right hand and imitated the motions Theremin was making with his left. These were the open-fingered motions of a hand playing the piano. During one composition, however, he read apparently all the way through a sketch of Theremin's life. When at one point the scientist caused the music to sound from the rear of the hall, Rachmaninoff was one of the few who did not turn around and stare.

The concert over, Rachmaninoff was surrounded. More people seemed in fact to know him than anyone else there. As one excited woman who, speaking in Russian, apparently attempted to fire his enthusiasm for the concert with her own, he shook his head two or three times unsmilingly. He did smile when a very young lady at his side began shouting 'Bravo!" and 'Magnifique!" to the bowing scientist. He patted her gently on the shoulder, and said "Sh-h". Then finally, still smiling, he said in French, 'You exaggerate.""