These are eventful times to say the least. Very recently, several notable public figures have left us, from an elderly courageous female authority of sexual controversy to an exercise guru of exuberant exhortation, to an actress with a charming overbite whose range encompassed Popeye’s girlfriend to a tale of horror by Stephen King. Today, perhaps the funniest former accountant with the longest successful career in comedy to come out of Chicago is being greeted by a smiling heavenly choir. And there is of course the matter of near assassination of a major political figure in our deeply troubled nation. These headlines have garnered our collective attention and deservedly so in proportion to how they affect us collectively and individually.
Nevertheless, last Friday, a lark descended in Chicago. He was and remains a deeply admired and respected member of that city’s musical scene, and indeed, the world’s to those who, over the past seven decades or so, had become acquainted with his artistry and humanity. That person was Abraham Stokman. He played the piano as few have ever been endowed with the gift to do so. He was my friend for more than fifty years. His life and its passing are worthy of our attention.
He was born in Tel Aviv a dozen years before that land was renamed as Israel. That very year of 1948 he came to America. Since he’d already displayed remarkable prowess as a pianist in his native city where he had impressed the legendary British/Jewish pianist, Solomon, young Abraham was offered a scholarship to study at the world-renowned Juilliard School, where over the next dozen years or so he attained both his Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in Piano Studies under the tutelage of Edward Steuermann, the same pedagogue who’d been responsible for enabling the career of Alfred Brendel among others.
It borders on the silly for me to endeavor to describe the caliber of Abe’s musicianship and keyboard artistry. I rather entreat you, dear reader, and presumed music lover, to listen to Stokman go here and to youtube for additional performances
There you can find a wealth of recently recorded recitals that he gave at Nichols Hall in Evanston, Illinois under the aegis of The Music Institute of Chicago where he taught piano and Improvisation over the past three decades. As I’m writing these words of homage, I’m listening to and inspired by one of his 2 recordings of Bach’s Goldberg Variations.
As a matter of perspective, let me note that I possess and cherish the 3 recordings of that work by Glenn Gould: the legendary mono 1955 that made the Canadian a global star, the stereo version that he made in 1981(released in’82) that was his last recording before his untimely death at 50, AND the 1959 LIVE at Saltzburg that Gould recorded (also in stereo by then) that I, and several connoisseurs of that piece consider to be his Goldberg Goldilocks’ (just right) best. I also revere Murray Perahia’s issue from 2000, that unlike Gould’s versions, plays all of Bach’s repeats. It is interesting to note that Stokman, like Murray P. found Bach worth REPEATING! I believe it is also worthy to note, that of all the recordings of that monumental work that Abe had heard, it was Rosalyn Tureck’s that he most admired.
Well, all that said, I prefer Abe’s! Should I confess bias? Perhaps. All I know is that, to my ears, none of the versions aforementioned are more “musical”, or seem to be more effortless than his, and there is a LIVE RECITAL FOR YOU TO SEE, on YouTube, as well as being worthy of your most active listening. I believe that that is a compliment that he’d accept without me being accused of flattery. Not that Stokman was immune to flattery. Who is? But like the truest of artists, he was his own most rigorous critic.
I recall, several decades ago, at Roosevelt University’s Chicago Musical College, when he was an Assistant Professor and Artist-In Residence there. He gave a recital that featured Beethoven’s Opus 111 Piano Sonata, a work that he was to later play superbly, yet on this night, he simply did not. Afterwards, backstage I found him weeping inconsolably and uttering,” Poor Beethoven!”. Of course, his perseverance in mastering that formidable piece a year later is among the many reasons that I came to love not merely the pianist, but the man.
Around this time during the ‘70’s in that city, Abe would tour a swath of the public elementary schools with a Steinway transported from one auditorium to another. He’d set this up with both the Illinois Arts Council and Steinway to arrange these 45-minute concerts for the children, without any fee for himself, merely to provide these young auditors their first opportunity to hear Bach’s Italian Concerto, Gershwin’s Three Preludes, and that showstopper from America’s 19th century, Louis Moreau Gottschalk’s, “The Banjo”. I would accompany Abe on these excursions to give him moral support and observe how rapt these audiences would become and how that last piece from America’s first great piano virtuoso would drive the kids CRAZY!
This was also the time, 1974 to be precise, when Abe arranged and conducted the four musicians from among the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, as well as yours truly, a recording of ten songs that I’d written for the Emmy winning children’s television show on which I appeared on the CBS affiliate (WBBM): “THE MAGIC DOOR”. It’s appropriately called, “SONGS FROM THE MAGIC DOOR”.
I was thrilled that when I first sang some of them for this man, whom I knew had been the music director and accompanist to Martha Schlamme and Will Holt for the Off Broadway hit ten years earlier, “A KURT WEILL CABARET’. It had been recorded for the MGM label and won the Grammy in 1964 for an Original Cast Album. I’d heard several excerpts from that over the years on WFMT, the fine arts FM station. That he actually LIKED my songs, and from the way he arranged them I believe, quite possibly loved them, provides me with abiding gratitude. The fact that it was favorably reviewed by the Pulitzer Prize winning critic, Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun Times I attribute to the skills of Abe’s handling them, and me, with what, as a recording I’m told by those I musically respect, holds up these 50 years later.
Two years later for America’s Bicentennial, and the then recent passing of the inestimable Paul Robeson, Abe appeared on our television show. My co-star, Fran Uditsky Moss and I, along with the puppet characters of “Torahville”( the show was sponsored by The Chicago Board of Rabbis), recreated the entire cantata, “Ballad for Americans” by Earl Robinson and John Latouche for that Sunday morning broadcast on Channel 2 in July of 1976. Hence the youth of the viewing public of the Chicagoland area got that cultural and historical jolt. Such an ambitious project would never have been possible without Abe’s participation and virtuoso guidance.
I haven’t even touched on Stokman’s improvisational genius. At nearly all his concerts, as encores, he would request from the audience to call out a standard song and name a famous classical composer. Abe would then proceed to render the song, first in its familiar guise, and then with utmost skill, variations in Bach’s, Mozart’s, Beethoven’s, Gershwin’s, whatyouwill, with astonishing authority and gleeful entertainment. You can experience some of those on his YouTube offerings as well.
And then, his HUMOR! At times he would suddenly play a recognizable passage from the 4th movement of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony and just when you were convinced that he was on the level; it would perfectly modulate into Berlin’s “There’s No Business Like Show Business!” Or whenever at a gathering with sufficient informality he’d propose a toast, among his favorites: “Here’s to Eve, the mother of us all, and here’s to Adam, who was Jonnyonthespot when the leaves began to fall!”
He was married twice; first to singer Sally Cooke and were divorced after a few years. With his second marriage however, he hit the JACKPOT! The brilliant pianist and subsequent teacher Arlene Gatilao emigrated as a grad student from the Philippines and began her studies with Abe at Roosevelt University. I believe it was but two years later that they were married in a union that lasted more than four decades. She became a first-class pianist in her own right and is among the finest of pedagogues at The Music Institute of Chicago. The Stokmans bore two beautiful children: Alexandra and David. There’s also now a glorious grandson, Jacob, via Alexandra. Condolences to them all.
Indeed, may Abe’s memory be a blessing. He nearly reached a birthday with the same numeral of the keys of his instrument. We, who can access his recordings, be they audio, video, or both, are blessed as well.
Photos were provided by the Stokman family
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