A Maestro's Rolex

An email from a Yale librarian arrived earlier this summer.

A modernist building on Yale's campus.

She wrote that she didn't know where one of the watches was, but she was working on finding it. I simultaneously felt disappointment and concern. I was disappointed because I hoped to arrange a visit with the truant timepiece. I was concerned because I couldn't help but wonder if someone had made off with it.

My concern faded after a second email a number of days later. The watch had been located. It was stored in a more secure location than other archival materials. And, my contact at Yale said I was welcome to see it.

Let's back up a bit. I periodically look for Rolex archival materials in libraries. My interest stems from the materials I previously found in a UK archive, materials which served as the basis for my book on Rolex's marketing history. It was a good while ago that my archival searches surfaced the Rolex watch in question. I just hadn't taken the time to reach out to Yale about it. In the interim, though, I'd encountered a few historically important timepieces and enjoyed writing about them. Those experiences prompted me to take the next step and arrange a visit. Let's begin with some context for the timepiece's history.

The Ukrainian Tiger Who Burnt Bright

The Rolex and one other timepiece held by Yale belonged to virtuoso pianist Vladimir Horowitz.

Vladimir Horowitz after performing in the White House in 1986. Earlier the same year he received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from Ronald Reagan.

Beginning in 1986, Horowitz and his wife, Wanda Toscanini Horowitz (yes, she was the daughter of famed conductor Arturo Toscanini), gifted a large volume of materials to Yale in twelve installments. The couple had tragically lost their only descendent, a daughter, in an accident in Geneva, Switzerland in 1975. For this reason, the university bequest was a natural option for the couples' estate planning

Vladimir Horowitz was born in Kiev, Ukraine, on September 18, 1903. His mother began teaching him piano at an early age. He enrolled at the Kiev Conservatory at the age of 9. At 16 he performed his first recital in Kharkiv. After touring throughout Russia during the country's civil war (and overthrow of the czar), Horowitz emigrated to Germany in 1925. On January 12, 1928 he offered his first performance in the United States. Horowitz' rendition of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 created an excited furor among Carnegia Hall's audience members. From that moment on, demand for his performances never truly waned. In 1939 Horowitz settled in the United States and in 1944 he became an American citizen.

In a recent post, music historian Michael Zwiebach, PhD, provides details on Horowitz' remarkable talents as a pianist. According to Zwiebach, Horowitz was uniquely skilled at providing a true "show" for his audiences. He peformed with "superhuman finger speed." Horowitz' "bombastic fortissimo" usually left a lasting impression with concert-goers (fortissimo is a "very loud" portion of a musical composition). Horowitz was so sought-after as a performer that he reportedly received 80% of box office sales, roughly triple the amount his contemporaries typically claimed.

Horowitz' career came with challenges. He struggled with performance anxiety.

A matchbook cover from one of Horowitz' performances.

But once he was on stage, Howitz claimed he felt like a King. The dichotomy of life, in which we experience two principles in opposition to each other (ex-ante performance insecurity versus ex-post peformance mastery and control, for example), is a bit of a theme when it comes to Horowitz' experiences and philosophy. In a 1965 interview with Newsweek, Horowitz observed "perfection itself is imperfection," another example of dichotomy in the arts. A while later, in another interivew, Horowitz claimed he had both a "devil and angel inside of [him] … in order to protect what the composer wanted."

The year 1978 marked the 50th anniversary (jubilee) of Horowitz' first performance in the United States. He decided to mark the occasion with a performance.

A time series of the number of annual concerts by Horowitz, note the gaps during certain periods.

For those interested in attending one of the maestro's performances, this was an important opportunity. From 1928 to 1954, Horowitz averaged 10 performances per year. But from 1954-1973, he averaged only one performance per year. It had become more difficult to hear one of the maestro's live performances. Horowitz' experience of forces pulling him in opposite directinos may have proven too much. For 12 years he stopped publicly performing and for two of those years he never left his apartment. Nevertheless, eventually Horowitz chose to return to the stage and share his jubilee performance with an ensemble that could certainy use some help with publicity and concert attendance.

Dissonance at the Philharmonic

In the late 1960's, U. S. inflation more than doubled, starting at 2.6% in 1967 and reaching 6.2% at the beginning of 1970. Unsurprisingly, the musicians belonging to the New York Philharmonic Orchestra wanted to restore the purchasing power they lost as a result. Their union, American Federation of Musicians Local 802, proposed a series of raises when the Philharmonic's management begain contract negotiations on July 17, 1973. The musicians and management struggled to reach agreement. The Philharmonic's President, Carlos Moseley, claimed that the organization was facing a severe financial crisis. Management was not interested in improving the musician's wages. When the Philharmonic's labor contract expired at midnight on September 20, 1973 the two sides had not reached agreement on a new contract.

On September 23, 1973, just after performing, the Philharmonic musicians began a strike lasting ten weeks (for more details on this and other labor issues in the music industry in the 1960s and 70s I highly recommend part 1 and part 2 of Kuan Cheng Lu's coverage). Labor strife deprived the orchestra of revenue, which certainly did not improve the organization's financial condition. Moreover, subscription sales continued to decline in subsequent years.

By 1978, I would imagine that both management and the Philharmonic's musicians would have welcomed an opportunity to host and perform with a virtuoso like Horowitz as a celebration of his career milestone. The resulting publicity and ticket sales would help reinforce the organization's bottom line. And, it is likely that the Philharmonic's performers would have relished the opportunity to participate in a historical moment for classical music.

A ticket from the Horowitz jubilee concert, photo was included with an LP recording released in Japan. Photo credit: www.horowitz.jp

The "Vladimir Horowitz Golden Jubilee Concert," was scheduled for Sunday, January 8, 1978 at 4pm in Carnegie Hall. Horowitz preferred concerts on Sunday because he believed the rest and relaxation offered by the weekend allowed concertgoers to appreciate the music more (and not fall asleep). For this reason, the concert did not fall on the exact jubilee date (January 12). A first tier box seat ticket went for $1,206 (adjusted for inflation). Horowitz generously agreed to perform for free, as did the orchestra and the conductor.

The performance was a great success. Horowitz and the Philharmonic received a standing ovation. The concert netted the Philharmonic $830,000 in proceeds (adjusted for inflation), no doubt a welcome result for all involved.

Jubilee Bracelet for a Jubilee

At some point, Philharmonic community members decided to give Horowitz a gift, one that would both show their appreciation for Horowitz' generosity while also commemorating their jubilee performance.

Horowitz (L) receiving a gift from Philharmonic Director Carlos Moseley (C) and (probably) board chair Amyas Ames (R) on a photo dated to the jubilee concert. Photo credit: New York Philharmonic Archives.

And this is where the Rolex at Yale enters the picture. A photo from the Philharmonic's archives, dated to the jubilee performance, shows the aforementioned Carlos Mosely (the Philharmonic president) with Horowitz and a third party (I believe he is Amyas Ames, an investment banker and the chair of the Philharmonic's board). Mosely holds in his hand a gift which has the shape of a "coffin" style watch box (although Rolex boxes of the late 1970s are generally associated with a square box, there is less uniformity in boxes during this era). I strongly suspect this is the Philharmonic's gift.

Top: Horowitz wearing the Rolex on Jubilee bracelet gifted to him by the Philharmonics. Photo credit: New York Philharmonic Archives. Bottom: Screenshot from a documentary on Horowitz, here is wears a Cartier Santos Ronde (there are many other clearer photos showing this).

Horowitz wears what appears to be a Rolex on a Jubilee bracelet in a number of photos in the period just after the jubilee concert. Towards the end of his life, he took to wearing a Cartier Santos Ronde. I have a theory about why he switched. This brings us to my visit with Yale and what I learned about the maestro's Rolex.

I've never really visited a rare manuscript and book archive before, so I didn't know what to expect. I reviewed a few guidelines and the staff were very friendly. I would say that the experience was somewhat akin to airport security but it was definitely far more pleasant. I was glad to see the processes in place, though. I believe the Horowitz Rolex is fairly valuable. One other note: I did my best to take high-quality photos of the timepiece for this post, but I do not have practice with doing that kind of thing generally, not to mention in an archive.

My first look at the Horowitz Rolex in the metal.

You will not find the hands at 10 and 2 in these pictures. The crown was screwed down and I just didn't want to even ask about unscrewing it. This also meant that in certain moments during the trip I had to wait many minutes for the hands to reposition. And this is one of the first things I learned: the watch still runs.

The timepiece was rolled in tissue paper inside a Cartier box, which was a surprise initially.

Detailed view of the Tiffany double-signed Rolex Oyster Perpetual gifted to Horowitz by the New York Philharmonic.

I can imagine, though, that when Horowitz switched to the Santos Ronde, he naturally placed his Rolex inside the Cartier box for storage. I did not see accompanying Rolex box and papers during my visit (the archive is very extensive, though, so they may well be at Yale). I was immediately struck by the fact that Horowitz's watch was obviously worn and used. There are an assortment of wear marks you would expect on the case and the crystal was marked and crazed in a number of places. This watch was not safe deposit box royalty. I also observed that the watch had residual traces of either perfume or cologne. I wondered if Horowitz' wife wore the timepiece after he passed away (she outlived him by roughly eight years). I don't believe the timpepiece has been serviced or cleaned since it arrived at Yale.

The Philharmonic selected a flat bezel Rolex Oyster Perpetual "three hander" as their gift to Horowitz.

Detailed view of the Tiffany double-signed mark.

This particular Rolex is special in ways that extend beyond provenance. It is double-signed Tiffany & Co, a rarity that is sought-after by vintage watch collectors (Tiffany had a special arrangement with Rolex which allowed them to add their brand name to the dial, many many other authorized dealers could not do this). This watch is in 14k gold.

As we would expect of a precious metal Swiss watch from this era, the Horowitz Rolex has a sigma dial.

Detailed view showing the sigma mark on the Horowitz Rolex.

Louis Westphalen has a fantastic Hodinkee article on the origin of this mark. In general, the sigma marks emerged in the 1970s to signal that gold was used throughout the manufacturing of a timepiece (gold skyrocketed in value in the early 70s so manufacturers wanted buyers to know that this precious metal was used). The "T" next to the sigma indicates that the luminous material is tritium, a far safer material than the radium that was used by Rolex prior to 1963 (for another post about radioactivity in Rolexes please see this post).

The famed Rolex coronet on the crown has an underline mark. This indicates that Horowitz' watch has a Twinlock system for ensuring that water does not enter the case through the crown.

The coronet underline on the crown in detail, also notice the state of the crystal.

The crown is period-correct. Triplock, the replacement for Twinlock, was introduced with the Sea-Dweller in 1970, it was not introduced to another model (the Submariner) until 1979. The underside of the bottom-left lug is imprinted with a Swiss government hallmark for 14k gold. The tiny squirrel, or "écureuil," is also correct.

The reverse side of the Rolex reveals another standout mark: an engraving on the caseback. The Philharmonic decided to personalize their gift to Horowitz. It reads:

VH
FROM
N.Y.P.
JAN 12
1928-1978

(or Vladimir Horowitz from New York Philharmonic, to state the possibly obvious).

The icon at the very top of the engraving was, initially, a puzzle.

The engraved casebck on the Horowitz Rolex.

I'm a little embarrassed about the possibilities I considered. They included an astrological symbol, the Greek letter phi, and the Nko letter ya. I somewhat randomly found the answer while researching the jubilee concert. A version of this symbol was printed on the tickets for the concert (see above). More generally, for a stretch of years in the 70s (and perhaps earlier) this was the emblem of the Philharmonic.

I'll close with a discussion of the watch bracelet. The Horowitz Rolex is paired with a Jubilee bracelet. I can just imagine that if the Tiffany's representative drew a connection between the jubilee concert and the Jubilee bracelet, the sale was closed quickly. Rolex introduced the Jubilee bracelet design in 1945 and it consists of three smaller links on the middle of the bracelet. These are bordered by two larger links on the outside. There are period-correct hollow end links. The bracelet has a very high degree of flex from wear. I have some suspicions about the source of this flex and its implications. If Horowitz wore this watch while practicing and playing piano, his intense movements at the keyboard likely produced more friction (and faster flex) than one might typically see in a Jubilee bracelet. I also believe that Horowitz probably did not want to continue wearing the Rolex while playing once the bracelet became loose because it would have slid up and down his arm as he played. This may explain his switch to the Cartier Santos Ronde.

Conclusion

The Horowitz Rolex in Yale's archives is one of those unsurpassed timepieces with great historical and cultural significance. I hesitate to bring up the topic of value, but it is at least worth discussing (I am an economist, after all).

Another view of the Horowitz Rolex.

Even if the watch had nothing else going for it, the double signed dial and manufacturing in precious metal mean that the timepiece would carry a premium relative to other Oyster Perpetuals from the era. I would start with a five figure baseline (in the $10,000s) because of those characteristics.

Next we come to provenance, which has the potential to multiply the value of the timepiece. The watch is a poignent relic from a significant milestone in music history. The engraving represents a personal connection between Horowitz and the musicians and staff at the New York Philharmonic, in addition to commemorating an incredible 50 years of piano performances. The only thing potentially holding back the timepiece is condition, but I don't believe this is a significant factor. The Jubilee bracelet could be restored. The crystal could be replaced, which would do wonders. The dial is in very good condition. The case may have been polished during a service but, in my opinion, it is not a severe polishing (if it was polished at all).

I don't believe condition holds this watch back, though. In the case of Marlon Brando's Rolex Explorer, the watch had a major condition issue: the bezel was gone. But, Brando intentionally removied it in furtherance of his art. That watch still sold for an astronomical figure. I believe the Horowitz Rolex is similar: much of the wear and tear is arguable due to the maestro's movements at the keyboard.

Returning the watch to its Cartier box and the end of the visit.

All of this is subjective, though, so I am open to being wrong.

With timepieces as unique as the Horowitz Rolex, it is always difficult to predict value at an auction, for example. If there are two or three people or institutions with deep pockets who are determined, bids can quickly exceed expectations. I think it is likely we'd see that kind of interest in Horowitz' timepiece. As a point of comparison, Elton John's gemset "leopard print" Rolex Daytona sold for $176,000 earlier this year. I'd suggest that a $50,000-$100,000 estimate for the Horowitz Rolex would be defensible.

Beyond money, Vladimir Horowitz's Oyster Perpetual Rolex is an authentic and organic reminder of the brand's connection to the arts. Just this year, Rolex revealed a special and limited Day Date design in celebration of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. This timepiece reminds us that Rolex's connection to the arts and artists extends beyond its more intentional programs such as the Perpetual Arts Initiative. With any luck, more such timepieces will surface in the future.

Coda

The careful reader will remember that, earlier, I mentioned Yale holds two Horowitz timepieces (that I'm aware of). I will discuss the second one in my next post, because I visited that one too. Stay tuned!

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