Walid Howrani

Born in New York in 1948, Waleed Howrani came to Beirut with his family in 1951. A year later, he began studying piano with Sonia Aharonian, followed by several years under the tutelage of Zvart Sarkissian. By the age of 13, he had come to the attention of the late composer Aram Khatchatourian, for whom he was asked to play some of his earliest compositions: “childish things,” remembers Howrani.

 

These “childish things” must have impressed Khatchatourian, though, because the famous composer asked the Soviet Ministry of Culture to invite Howrani to study in Moscow. It took two years, but finally Howrani got a call from the Soviet Embassy in Lebanon in December 1963 to say he had been awarded a scholarship to study at Moscow's Central Music School from which he graduated with high distinction in 1966. He then went on to study for seven years at the famed Tchaikovsky Conservatory, winning the Certificate of Honor at the Tchaikovsky International Piano Competition at the age of 18 and the Laureate in the Queen Elizabeth of Belgium Competition two years later.  “I am very grateful to the Russian people,” he says simply.

 

Preferring creative satisfaction to commercial gain, Howrani has received wide critical acclaim and, perhaps most significantly, has achieved what many artists can only dream of:  professional and personal satisfaction, as he explains in this interview with Today's Outlook.

 

Was it in the US that you first achieved international success?

No. It started in Moscow with the Tchaikovsky Competition in 1966. And in Belgium in 1968, I was the first person from the Middle East to ever reach the finals in a big international competition. Then I started touring in Eastern Europe.

 

In 1973, I left for the US to pursue a career. I toured under Columbia Artists Management for two years. I wasn't too happy with the commercial way they treated artists. During the first year, they booked me 39 concerts in one brief season!  I felt like a machine, playing a concert one day, traveling the next, playing again on the third. They booked performances very close to each other to save money. I didn't feel I was treated as a human being, but more like a product. They sell you to local concert halls and make commissions off your back.

 

Where do you like to perform?

I play wherever I can get engagements ñ Europe, the Americas, the Middle East. I performed in London last year. I have performed in South America and throughout Europe, but I am especially moved by my Lebanese audiences because I feel their warmth and their love. I feel they are proud of me.

 

Have you performed in Russia since you left?

I did, twice.  In 1976 I had a concert tour, and in 1980 I went on my own as a tourist. Now that the Soviet Union has dissolved, I don't have the heart to go back to a place that won't look anything like the one I knew.

 

How many concerts do you play every year?

Between ten and thirty. It all depends on what my projects are. Sometimes I get an urge to compose; if I'm excited about the project, I focus on writing. You have to have time to compose but you also need someone to guide you so that you don't write clichès, banalities, or redundancies.

 

I prefer to have fewer concerts and to treat every concert as if it's a special occasion. I want to have time to develop as a pianist and to study composition, which I didn't do in Moscow.  But I am fortunate to have studied composition privately with University of Michigan professor William Albright. Now I can compose and perform.

 

William Albright and other masters of composition introduced me to some American music and ragtime.  The first time I had the courage to perform ragtime in my concert, people loved it. From then on I started playing and composing ragtime. In the late 1980s and early '90s some people in Europe ñ particularly in France ñ would play Beethoven and Mozart in the first half and jazz in the second half. Witnessing that successful combination definitely inspired me to rethink the conventional attitude toward programming.

 

I'm happy with the way my career has developed. I'm not as famous or as wealthy as some other pianists, but I'm happy. I like simplicity.

 

Last year I got a phone call from a colleague whom I hadn't heard from or seen in 27 years. His name is Vadim Sakharov. He is a terrific Russian pianist, has a teaching position in Japan, is well respected in France and he fills the auditoriums in Russia. I was thrilled to talk to him, so I sent him my most recent CD, which features Alma Mater, my latest composition for piano, based on the American University of Beirut (AUB) anthem. Vadim was delighted with it and told me that he hopes to perform it one day.

 

Has any concert touched your heart more than the others?

There are several that I remember very fondly, but there are some that had amusing incidents. Once when I was in Sherbrook, Canada, the electricity went off in the middle of a very demanding piece, Prelude Chorale and Fugue by Cesar Franck. All I could see by the emergency light backstage was the silhouette of the stagehand, frantically gesturing to me to continue in the dark, so I did. The result was a wild ovation and a rave review.

 

I have had many incidents with less-than-perfect pianos. Once a pedal broke and I had to hold it in place with my other foot while still playing. On another occasion, when I was performing with an orchestra, one of the hammers kept getting caught between two strings because one string was missing. So every two or three minutes I’d have to stand up and push it down!

 

I also remember going to a place in Tennessee where some of the piano’s hammers were broken. Before the rehearsal, I pointed them out to the gentleman who took me to the auditorium, but he apparently didn’t understand much about pianos or the kind of music I play.  “But these broken notes are way up on the side. Can’t you just avoid them by using the rest of the keyboard?” he challenged. Most pianists go through these things.

 

Have you had any concerts in the Middle East?

I've performed in many Arab countries, including Kuwait, Iraq, Egypt, Morocco, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, as well as Qatar and Bahrain. I perform almost every year in the UAE. The Cultural Center in Abu Dhabi is quite active musically and is doing its best to introduce music to its citizens.

 

Whenever there's a chance, I come back to Lebanon. The AUB and the Lebanese American University are but two of the venues that have hosted me here. Other performances have taken place in Beit Chebab, Tripoli, Zahlè, Brummana, Balamand, Jbeil, Saida, and Bishmizzine.  My manager, Ghassan Yammine, director of the Yammine School of Music, is confident that future bookings will include appearances in at least one of the major music festivals, such as Baalbeck or Beiteddine.

 

Do you ever contact other Lebanese pianists?

Not much, because most of them are in Paris and I’m in the US. When I go to Paris, I try to stay in touch with them. However, there is a new generation of Lebanese pianists with whom I am not as familiar as I’d like to be, but I'm always proud of their success. Regrettably, I'm not living where I have a chance to attend their concerts but when they make a CD I like to hear it.

 

Are you satisfied with the recognition that the Lebanese give you?

Yes, very much. I'm flattered, honored, and grateful, whether the recognition comes from a government source or the Lions Club. I do feel that I have been quite welcomed in Lebanon.

 

Howrani has, in fact, received many awards including the Prize of Said Akl (1968), the Lebanese Medal of Merit (1969), the Creative Artist Grant from the Michigan Council for the Arts (1988), the True Spirit award from the Los Angeles-based 500 Club for Lebanon (1991), the Artistic Excellence award from Wayne County, Michigan (1992), the Khalil Gibran Fine Arts Scholar Award (1992 and 1993), and the Lebanese Medal of Cedar (1999).

 

How excited were you when April 13 was declared Waleed Howrani Day in San Diego?

It’s hard to define excitement, but it's always very flattering to be honored. San Diego was a total surprise. Nobody told me about it. They did it when I went there. It’s very touching.

 

How was the concert you performed last November in Washington, D.C.?

This particular concert was sponsored by the AUB Alumni Association of North America, so most of my audience was Lebanese or of Lebanese descent. Their enthusiastic response was overwhelming.

 

What’s your next step?

I want to keep practicing and enlarging my repertoire, playing concerts and composing. Now I have a commission to write a Fire Dance for piano; it’s a very exciting piece.

 

Do you compose for other instruments?

Yes. I’ve written some pieces for other instruments like flute and saxophone. I’m composing more for the piano now because I like to play my pieces in concerts.  I'll also be performing Alma Mater which, so far, I’ve played only once in Beirut when I inaugurated the AUB piano in 1999. Next year, I’ll be playing it to mark the 135th anniversary of the founding of what is now known as AUB.

 

Do you play any other instruments?

To master an instrument you have to dedicate many hours, many years of your life to it. That's why most instrumentalists master just one instrument. I have fooled around with the accordion, harmonica, and recorder but I wouldn't consider that I can play them.

 

What inspires you to write? Is it emotion?

The idea is more important than the emotion. My best ideas come when I’m away from the piano, because if you try to compose at an instrument, the result is not likely to be very original. But if you have a concept, you can be more innovative, because you are not influenced by the harmonies that you are hearing.

 

I remember I came up with the idea for my Concerto for Alto Saxophone, Strings and Percussion while I was in the shower. I was wondering how to start it and I was thinking: I want the strings to be a surprise. I wasn’t focusing on notes or melody, just the idea. I didn't want the listener to hear the strings too soon, so the saxophone is played with percussion while the volume gradually increases. Then all of a sudden, the strings blast away! It was so convincing that I burst into tears, knowing that it was going to be a winner. Later I worked on the melodies and the fabric of the piece.

 

Have you ever tried to compose for Hollywood movies?

When I was much younger, I used to say to myself that I could do very well with background music. I still think I can. However, over the years two things put an end to that idea. First, I became disillusioned with Hollywood. As a youngster I used to adore Hollywood and movies, but then, because of my education in Moscow, I watched movies less. Gradually most movies appeared to be too inane and violent. The other thing was that I learned that movie producers hire people who compose in a technologically advanced way. Of course they spend millions of dollars on movies, but they don't want to bother with a symphony or players anymore. Everything is computerized. All this stuff does not intrigue me and to be honest, I didn't pursue it.

 

I don’t own a TV. I don't own a car. I don’t own a video or a computer because I believe if I’m going to use any kind of technology, I would want to enslave it, not allow it to enslave me. I listen to the radio while I’m in the kitchen, for example, but at least I don't have to be glued to it all the time. Computers may be good for businesses, libraries, and the like, but I don’t believe in the personal computer. I still enjoy writing a letter or sending a card; when necessary, I do use a fax machine. I don't own a car. I use the bus, I walk, I ride my bike. I'm living a19th-century style.

 

I have to admit, though, that I’m grateful to 20th-century technology because I had a very complicated brain surgery that lasted almost nine hours, and they saved my life with modern technologies. If I were living in the 19th century, I wouldn’t be talking to you today.

 

What are the most important or favorite pieces that you have composed?

Alma Mater. There are moments in my concerto that I like very much but if I had to choose right now, Alma Mater would probably be my favorite.

 

If you had three wishes, what would they be?

I don’t need more than what I have. I’m a happy person. My happiness comes from my clear conscience, from my friends, from nature. I love nature. I have a little garden that I grow every year. When I see the moon, smell the flowers, or grow things, I’m happy. I love to cook. I love to eat. I love to joke. I love to socialize and I love to play and compose. I wouldn’t wish for anything more or anything to be different.