At the beginning of the Years of Lead in Italy, he became a member of the Italian Communist Party, citing their condemnation of the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 as a factor in his decision. He was asked to leave one of his own performances for protesting the U.S. bombing of Hanoi and formed a friendship with composer Luigi Nono, collaborating on pieces like “Como una ola de fuerza y luz,” dedicated to the memory of Chilean activist Luciano Cruz.
Believing that music should be accessible to everyone, Mr. Pollini performed concerts for workers and students with conductor Claudio Abbado. He broke with traditional practices that separated new music from old, recording works by Schoenberg and Beethoven alike. Despite a decline in fervor in the 1980s, he held onto his socialist beliefs and a belief in the transformative power of art.
In a 2011 interview with The Guardian, Mr. Pollini stated, “Art itself, if it is really great, has a progressive aspect that is needed by a society, even if it seems absolutely useless in strictly practical terms.” He continued to keep up with modern art, read Shakespeare in both English and Italian, and studied a wide range of musical scores beyond just piano compositions.
Known for his commitment to works he believed in, Mr. Pollini carefully selected pieces that he felt contributed to the evolution of music and never failed to captivate him. Despite his modernist approach, he had an appreciation for a variety of musicians, from the Romantics to conductors like Karl Böhm. He even admitted to enjoying Rachmaninoff from time to time.
Mr. Pollini is survived by his wife, Marilisa, whom he married in 1968, and their son, Daniele, both accomplished pianists. Reflecting on the instrument, he once said, “We have the most beautiful repertoire ever written for an instrument. We have at our disposal a richness… There are no limits to what you can do on the piano.”
