Each Saturday and Sunday for the past three months, a little procession has arrived punctually at 6:30 p.m. at RCA Victor's midtown Manhattan recording studios. The routine never varies. The youngest, Mlle. Denise Restout, goes straight to the harpsichord, yanks open her tool kit, and starts tuning. The huskiest, Mlle. Elsa Schunicke, carries the pillows and the hamper, loaded with sandwiches, a vacuum jug of coffee, and a supply of specially blended horehound drops. Then, her hands folded before her, and her craggy features blissfully composed, Mme. Wanda Landowska herself floats in like a tiny wraith, nods her greetings and disappears...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
