Safely Grazing Again

Of all his formidable talents, Leon Fleisher's ability to appreciate irony may be the most useful. Arguably the greatest classical pianist of his generation, Fleisher, 75, first sat behind the ivories at the age of 4 and by the time he turned 9 was studying under the legendary Artur Schnabel. Fleisher made his debut with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra at 14, began with the New York Philharmonic at 16 and had performed twice at Carnegie Hall before turning 18. His career was studded with concerts, recordings, awards, honors and growing fame until a neurological disorder called dystonia forced him to abandon his playing in 1965. At just 35, he was shattered. "When the gods go after you, they really know where to strike," he said Wednesday at Carnegie Hall.

For the next 35 years, the fourth and fifth fingers of his right hand involuntarily clenched into his palm, Fleisher sought an accurate diagnosis and treatment for his disorder--one that afflicts some 300,000 Americans. Gradually, concentrating on teaching and composing, he mastered the literature of left-handed piano technique. He has been on the faculty at the Peabody Conservatory of Music in Baltimore since 1959. His worldwide search for a cure ended in the mid-1990s when an injection of Botox, of all things, relaxed his fingers, allowing him to play two-handed piano for the first time in decades. (Botox, a toxin that causes botulism, is better known for its cosmetic use as a muscle relaxant that smoothes the wrinkles of aging celebrities, among others.) Now in the middle of a worldwide tour, Fleisher has just signed with Vanguard Classics to record his first two-handed album in 40 years. He spoke with NEWSWEEK's Brian Braiker on a recital stage at Carnegie Hall recently about his return to two-handed playing and what 35 years in one-handed wilderness taught him about music. Excerpts:

NEWSWEEK: What was it like to play with both hands again after 35 years?

Leon Fleisher: Use your imagination. [Turns to the piano and plays a joyful, rousing interpretation of J.S. Bach's "Sheep May Safely Graze," almost shouting along to the music] ... I call that my answer to Mel Gibson. [Laughs]

Having dystonia must have forced you to rethink your relationship with music.

Yes. I've had to think about music in a much more detailed manner than I ever had before so that I could really describe what I'm doing. But it also brought me to the point that I could find reasons that are irresistible for why I do it. I think I became a far better musician; I became a far better teacher. I started to conduct, and that's a totally different experience. With an instrument you have a direct input and direct response out of a piano. Conducting through gesture you have to influence 100 professional people who are essentially very skeptical. Many of them are frustrated soloists and conductors themselves. So you have to be very clear and good about what your goals are.