Max Raimi Remembers Pierre Boulez

Violist Max Raimi shares three humorous tales of Pierre Boulez (1925–2016) in honor of his centennial. 

I can’t remember the piece, but Boulez was rehearsing one of his specialties, a fearsomely complex and dissonant maelstrom; I could barely make heads or tails of just my own part. Boulez stopped conducting and gently said, "Second bassoon?  Shouldn’t your last note in measure X (I can’t remember the exact measure, but the other details are correct) be a C sharp, not a C natural?“  To which the second bassoonist said, ”Oh yeah . . . sorry, Maestro!" 

We were making what turned out to be an extraordinary recording of Bartók’s masterpiece, Bluebeard’s Castle, featuring Jessye Norman as Judith.  As Bluebeard and Judith would enter the next room, Boulez had the horns blow through their instruments, to suggest a slight flow of air as the door opened.  At some point, one of the horns engaged their lip accidentally, producing a sound that was very much like that of human flatulence.  To which Boulez remarked, “Mon Dieu!  Which wife was that?”  We all laughed, of course, but Boulez most of all.  He was in utter hysterics at his own joke.  He actually had to call a break to compose himself. 

We all laughed, of course, but Boulez most of all. 

After a performance of Bartók’s Miraculous Mandarin in New York, there was a reception at Tavern on the Green in Central Park.  I got there a little late, and the only available seating was at the “adult’s table” right next to Pierre.   

At some point, with my courage bolstered by alcohol, I said, “Maestro, as you know, there are three rather extended, highly exposed, and difficult passages for the violas in Mandarin.  Now, if the trombones, say, or the clarinets were featured in this way, they, without question, would get their own bow after the performance as a section. Why weren’t we given the same honor?”  Boulez gave his charming Gallic laugh and said, “Well, you know . . . it was your choice.  You decided to play the viola.”