Chess Notes
Edward
Winter
When contacting
us
by e-mail, correspondents are asked to include
their name and full
postal address and, when providing
information, to quote exact book and magazine sources.
The word ‘chess’ needs to appear in the subject-line
or in the message itself.
7636. Sculpture (C.N. 7614)
The position provided by Michael McDowell for David
Goode’s sculpture was the composition by Stamma on page
269 of Praktische Sammlung bester und höchst
interessanter Schachspiel-Probleme by A. Alexandre
(Leipzig, 1846):
From page 320 of the October 1866 Chess Player’s
Magazine:
‘Not having been furnished till recently with the
names of the seconds and umpire in the late match
between Anderssen and Steinitz, we were unable to
state that Messrs Staunton and Hewitt acted as seconds
for the former, and Messrs Strode and Boden for the
latter. Earl Dartry [sic – Dartrey] was the
umpire.’
Concerning Steinitz v von
Bardeleben (Hastings, 1895) Olimpiu G. Urcan sends
this cutting from page 2 of the 8 September 1900 edition
of the Newcastle Weekly Courant:
What is the source of the claimed dialogue?
A question from Mr Urcan is thrown open to readers:
‘Is it possible to establish, with reliable
historical sources, the first known occasion when
Steinitz played 1 d4?’
From page 148 of the April 1929 Chess Amateur:
From the same issue of the Chess Amateur (pages
153-154) comes this game played at the Liverpool Chess
Club:
Frederick Dewhurst Yates – Allies (‘members of the
Liverpool Chess Club consulting’)
Liverpool, 1929 (?)
Queen’s Gambit Declined
1 d4 d5 2 c4 e6 3 Nc3 Nf6 4 Bg5 Nbd7 5 e3 Be7 6 Nf3 O-O
7 Rc1 c6 8 a3 Ne4 9 Bf4 Nxc3 10 Rxc3 Nf6 11 Bd3 dxc4 12
Rxc4 Qa5+ 13 Nd2 b6 14 O-O Bb7 15 Be5 Qd5 16 e4 Qd7 17
Rc3 Ne8 18 Bc4 Bf6 19 Bxf6 Nxf6
20 e5 Nd5 21 Rg3 Ne7 22 Ne4 Ng6 23 Ng5 Rfd8 24 Qh5 Nf8
25 Nxh7 Nxh7 26 Qh6 g6 27 Rh3 Qe8 28 Qxh7+ Kf8 29 Qh4
Resigns.
Are further details available?
7642. Alekhine in Paris, 1941 (C.N.s
7629 & 7634)
Peter Anderberg (Harmstorf, Germany) notes that the first
page of the Lower Saxony supplement to the February 1993
issue of Rochade Europa had a second photograph of
Alekhine’s simultaneous exhibition:
White to move
From Thomas Niessen (Aachen, Germany) comes an item in
the chess column of the Aachener
Anzeiger/Politisches Tageblatt of 7 September
1934. It states that after that year’s Zurich tournament
Nimzowitsch travelled home to Copenhagen via France,
Belgium and England, instead of through Germany, because
he feared that the German authorities might be aware of
negative remarks that he had made about ‘Neudeutschland’
during the tournament:
7645. ‘The Mozart of chess’
Page 317 of People
(London, 1954)
Christian Sánchez (Rosario, Argentina) enquires about the
origins of a nickname given to Capablanca, ‘The Mozart of
chess’, and wonders when it was first used. We plan to
revert to that matter later on, and readers’ assistance
with citations will be welcomed. Firstly, though, we would
point out that the term has been applied to many masters.
Some examples:
‘Morphy was the Mozart of chess.’
Page 228 of the Columbia Chess Chronicle, 29
December 1888 (article by G.H.D. Gossip).
Page 305 of the August-September 1884 BCM
had stated: ‘What Mozart, as to innate, natural ability,
was to music, Morphy likewise was to chess.’
‘The Mozart of chess’
Page 45 of White King and Red Queen by D.
Johnson (London, 2007).
‘El Mozart del ajedrez’
Page 113 of El campeonato mundial de ajedrez by
E. Gufeld and E.M. Lazarev (Barcelona, 2003).
‘Spassky has been called the Mozart of
chess.’
Page 65 of Bobby Fischer Goes to War by D.
Edmonds and J. Eidinow (London, 2004).
‘Fourteen-Year-Old “Mozart of Chess”’
Page SM38 of the New York Times, 23 February
1958 (article by H.C. Schonberg – see C.N. 5491).
Schonberg referred to Capablanca as ‘the Mozart of
chess’ on page 181 of Grandmasters of Chess
(Philadelphia and New York, 1973).
‘He is the Mozart of the chessboard ...’
Page 21 of Karpov-Korchnoi 1978 by R. Keene
(London, 1978).
‘In January 2004, I called Magnus Carlsen the
Mozart of chess for the first time. It was a
spontaneous, last-minute decision to meet a deadline for
my column in the Washington Post. The name was
picked up immediately and spread around quickly. It was
used, misused, overused.’
Lubomir Kavalek, article
dated 23 February 2012.
7646. Nimzowitsch in Copenhagen (C.N.
4307)
Philippe Kesmaecker (Maintenon, France) has found the
above document at the Danish Politietsregisterblade
website.
Per Skjoldager (Fredericia, Denmark), the co-author of a
forthcoming book on Nimzowitsch (see C.N.s 7108 and 7310),
informs us:
‘This record is of great importance. It shows the
dates when Nimzowitsch registered his arrival with the
Danish police and specifies:
- Full name: Aron Nimzowitsch. Occupation: chess
master. Born in Riga on 7 November 1886.
- On 29 November 1922 he moved to Nansensgade 32,
first floor, his landlord being named Nielsen.
- On 11 June 1923 he moved to the Missionshotellet
(Missionary Hotel) at Løngangstræde 27.
- On 28 August 1923 he moved to Øster Farimagsgade
11, second floor, where his landlady was Miss Juul.’
Mr Skjoldager has provided two photographs:
Nansensgade 32 is on the
left of the Café Stjernen
Øster Farimagsgade 11 is
on the right, behind the pedestrian.
7647. The Italics are Mine (C.N.
5415)
John Roycroft (London) sends this passage from pages
35-36 of The Italics are Mine by Nina Berberova
(London, 1969), an autobiographical work translated from
the Russian by Philippe Radley:
‘... I remember one of my dreams about Dostoevsky. I am
playing chess with someone. There are many people in the
room. Dostoevsky stands near me and looks attentively at
the board. And I say to him, “Well, Fedor Mikhailovich,
in chess you can foresee everything and allow for it. If
we move here, then all 25 or 35 moves to the very end of
the game are foreordained and known beforehand. If we
move there, a whole chain of causalities again unfolds,
a chain from which there is no escape. But in human life
even you cannot foresee what will happen. You can be
given a heap of data about two people and you will still
not be able to tell us today what they, either together
or alone, will do tomorrow. The law of cause and effect
is not operative when you talk about men.”
He smiles, squints with one eye, is silent for about a
minute, and then says:
“Yes, very likely this is so. Twenty-five or 35 moves
you can, of course, foresee, but only on the condition
that the ceiling does not collapse during the game and
that one of the players does not die of a stroke. If
this happens, then chess becomes like life, it moves
into a dimension where there are neither social nor
biological laws, nor the possibility for the smartest
mind to figure out the ‘pattern’ of the future.”
“What! No social or biological laws? Is there really
such a place on earth?”
“In the meeting of two people and in man’s creativity”,
he answers. “There these laws are not operative.”
I see my opponent take my pawn. Suddenly I notice that
Dostoevsky has small, exquisite, well-cared-for hands.’
From Olimpiu G. Urcan (Singapore) come a report and a
cartoon published on page 4 of The World (New
York), 20 June 1896:
Larger version of the
cartoon
Mr Urcan has also submitted this photograph taken at
Monte Carlo in 1902, from Caras y Caretas, 26
April 1902:
A copy of better quality is sought.
7650. Aphorisms and observations
C.N. 775 gave, from James J. Walsh (Dublin), a selection
of aphorisms and observations on the game:
- Rook endings a pawn up are generally drawn – but rook
endings a pawn down are usually lost.
- The most attractive combinations are usually just one
tempo short of being sound.
- The popular press believes that chess congresses are
composed exclusively of child prodigies and
octogenarians.
- Players indicate an increasing maturity at the game by
not automatically making the en passant capture.
- Players with the greatest theoretical opening
knowledge are most likely to get into time-trouble.
- The weakest players in a tournament are generally
first to enquire about the prizes.
- Annotations attempt to prove that a game had only one
logical sequence.
Further to the reference in C.N. 7408 to an alleged
Morphy position against Bousserolle, Bonserolle or
Bousserolles, we add that the conclusion of a different
game (against Busserolles) was published on page 129 of
the April 1859 Chess Monthly:
Page 132 of the same issue had the following regarding
Morphy:
‘The Duke Decazes had given him a dinner, at which a
number of grave senators and warlike generals
assembled to do honor to the young hero. Mr Morphy, at
the request of the company, played two simultaneous
blindfold games and took part, at the same time, in an
animated conversation.’
From page 208 of the July-August 1906 Wiener
Schachzeitung:
‘S. Lipschütz, der bekannte amerikanische
Schachmeister, ist Ende November 1905 im Hamburger
Krankenhause im Alter von 42 Jahren gestorben. Seine
Leiche wurde im Hamburger Krematorium verbrannt.’
Is it really impossible to find
anything about Lipschütz
(and, in particular, his forename) in archives or other
reference sources in Hamburg?
7653. Steinitz and 1 d4 (C.N. 7639)
The question raised in C.N. 7639 was when Steinitz first
played 1 d4.
Roland Kensdale (Aberdeen, Scotland) notes the move in
Steinitz’s tenth match-game against Zukertort (London, 31
August 1872). The opening 1 d4 f5 2 g3 recurred in the
twelfth game. (Westminster Papers, 1 October 1872,
page 85.)
Our correspondent also points out Steinitz v Jeney,
Vienna, 4 September 1860, which opened 1 c4 e6 2 Nc3 d5 3
e3 Nf6 4 Nf3 Nc6 5 d4. See, for instance, page 383 of
volume one of Schachmeister Steinitz by L.
Bachmann (Ansbach, 1925).
Finally, Mr Kensdale remarks, a game between Steinitz and
Healey (London, 1864), played at king’s knight’s odds,
began 1 d4 d5 2 c4 c6. It is on page 88 of the Bachmann
book.
Below are two photographs which appeared, courtesy of
David Lawson, on pages 31 and 82 respectively of the Weltgeschichte
des
Schachs volume on Steinitz by D. Hooper (Hamburg,
1968):
‘Steinitz beim
Simultan-Spiel mit 18 Teilnehmern (Hamburg, 1896?)’
C.N. 867 (see page 149 of Chess Explorations)
noted the flavourless and inaccurate French translation
(by Parviz M. Abolgassemi) in Fischer’s Mes 60
meilleures parties (Paris, 1972). The examples
given were:
- ‘Once again, time-pressure had Sherwin burying his
thumbs in his ears.’ ‘Une fois de plus à court de
temps, Sherwin ne veut rien entendre.’ (Game 1)
- ‘Alekhine said, in his prime, ...’ ‘Alékhine
disait, au début de sa carrière ...’ (Game 8)
- ‘A good last-ditch try.’ ‘Un excellent coup.’ (Game
16)
- ‘I was informed that Gligorich thought I had
blundered a Pawn ...’ ‘Je savais que Gligoric
pensait que je m’étais trompé, ...’ (Game 30)
- ‘Relieving the suspense.’ ‘Gardant le suspense.’
(Game 60).
C.N. 867 was published in 1984. Just over a decade
later Editions Editéchecs, Paris reissued Fischer’s
book, without any attempt to correct the translation.
7656. Najdorf v Che Guevara (C.N.s 4803
& 4809)
Mike Salter (Sydney, Australia) notes that whereas a
16-move draw between Najdorf and Che Guevara at a
simultaneous exhibition in Havana in 1962 has been given,
an unsourced quote on page 44 of Najdorf: Life and
Games by T. Lissowski and A. Mikhalchishin (London,
2005) has Najdorf claiming that he won on that occasion,
after refusing a draw because he wanted revenge for a loss
to Che Guevara in a display at Mar del Plata in 1947.
How is the discrepancy to be explained?
From Stephen Davies (Kallista,
Australia) comes the registration of Lipschütz’s death,
which has been found for him by Mr Ralf Stullich of the
website beyond-history.com:
Below is the translation by Mr Stullich:
‘No. 2652
Hamburg, 1 December 1905
Before the undersigned registrar there appeared today,
personally known, the deaconess, Sister Anna Johanna
Siegrist, residing in Hamburg, at Martinistrasse 46, and
reported that Salomon Lipschütz, insurance agent, 42
years and 4 months old, no religion, residing in Hamburg
at the address mentioned, born in Ungvaa [sic] in
Hungary, on 4 July 1863, unmarried, son of Nathan
Lipschütz, residing in New York (profession unknown),
and his wife Sallie Nebenzahl, deceased in Hungary, died
in the Bethanien Hospital on 30 November in the year
1905 in the afternoon at one p.m, as she, the reporting
person, reported from her own knowledge.
Read out, accepted and signed
Johanna Siegrist
The Registrar [signature].’
Further to this well-known photograph
of Capablanca and Lasker in Moscow in 1925 (see, for
instance, page 310 of Chess Facts and Fables),
Christian Sánchez (Rosario, Argentina) notes a brief
sequence of moving pictures of the two champions (at
about 15:40:40). [Addition on 16 November 2012: the
material is no longer available at the link indicated.]
7659. Freud on Spassky v Fischer
C.N. 6081 gave a photograph of Clement Freud presenting a
cheque to Robert Bellin, the winner of the London Chess
Congress in Islington in December 1972.
Earlier that year, as mentioned on page 222 of Profile
of
a Prodigy by Frank Brady (New York, 1973), Clement
Freud went to Reykjavik for the Spassky v Fischer world
championship match. We note that an article by him, ‘A
week of waiting for P-Q4’, was published in the Financial
Times of 8 July 1972 and reproduced on pages 161-166
of the posthumous anthology A
feast of Freud (London, 2009). Some snippets:
- ‘To attempt to be rational about an event as
sensationally irrational as the world chess championship
of 1972 is no easy matter. The fact is that for five
long days officials, players, observers and prospective
cash customers have been so bemused by the human
tantrums and quirks of fate surrounding the match – or,
to be strictly accurate, non-match – that the basic
truth escapes them: a brace of players are about to
compete for a prestigious title and a lot of money.
If you consider that in the course of seven days God
created the universe, it is pretty shameful that in 80%
of that time the World Chess Federation, though urged on
by a fair section of the world, was unable to bring two
men around one chess board. Yet such was the case.’
- ‘There were also contributing factors, like the
presence of so large a section of media men that players
and officials behaved like prima donnas instead of
people. Like the niceness of the Icelandic nationals
who, had they acted with the violence of their
forebears, would have had the men sitting down and
pushing rooks at each other last Tuesday.’
- ‘The reasons, or rather the timing, of the intended
walkout [by the Soviets] were obscure and irrational,
having about them the insane logic of a man waiting for
a delayed train to come into the station before
complaining to the railways board that it is too late.
“Why did you not complain earlier?”, we asked the
Russians over and over again. “How can we complain that
he is late when we don’t know when he will come?”, they
replied.’
- ‘On the stage behind the chess table there was a drape
on which was painted a black knight, a few squares from
a chess board, the legend gens una sumus ... the
whole decorated by a drawing of what appeared to be a
huge devious sardine-can opener.’
- ‘Suddenly, at 8.46, they appeared on the stage, and to
our amazement they were nice ordinary pleasant-looking
soberly-dressed young men.
We had expected Fischer to come loping out of a corner
on all fours, frothing at the mouth, bandages hiding the
wounds from which surgeons had extracted his horns. He
turned out to be a lean, gangling, engaging man wearing
an uncontroversial green suit and matching tie.’
We have seen no references to chess in Clement Freud’s
autobiography Freud Ego (London, 2001).
Clement Freud’s signature
in our copy of Freud Ego.
White to move
Steven B. Dowd (Birmingham, AL, USA) comments that
there are two winning moves, 1 h3 and 1 Kc3.
We took the position from page 303 of the American
Chess Monthly, September-October 1893:
Since that was the last issue of the Monthly,
no solution was published.
Harold van der Heijden’s Endgame study database III
gives the position as a composition by ‘unknown’, from
the American Chess Monthly of 1926. The solution
appears as 1 h3 Kb1 2 Na1 Kxa1 3 Kc2, with the cook 1
Kc3 Kb1 2 Na1 Kxa1 3 Kc2.
7661. Max Fleissig blindfold display
(C.N. 7608)
Peter Anderberg (Harmstorf, Germany) adds that all six
games in the exhibition were published in the report on
pages 3-6 of the Oesterreichische Schachzeitung, 1
April 1872:
Larger
version
Below are the five games not given in C.N. 7608:
Max Fleissig – Josef Schulhof
Vienna, 26-27 January 1872
King’s Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 f4 exf4 3 Bc4 h5 4 d4 g5 5 h4 d6 6 Nf3 Bg4 7
hxg5 Bxf3 8 Qxf3 Qxg5 9 Bxf4 Qg6 10 Nc3 Nc6 11 Bb5 O-O-O
12 Bxc6 bxc6 13 O-O-O Ne7 14 d5 Bh6 15 Bxh6 Qxh6+ 16 Kb1
Qg6 17 dxc6 Nxc6 18 Nd5 Rde8 19 Qc3 Kb7 20 Qb3+ Kc8 21 Qa4
Kd7
22 Rd4 Rb8 23 Rc4 Rxb2+ 24 Kxb2 Rb8+ 25 Ka3 Qg7 26 Qxc6+
Ke6 27 Nf4+ Resigns.
Max Fleissig – Wien
Vienna, 26-27 January 1872
Evans Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bc4 Bc5 4 b4 Bxb4 5 c3 Bc5 6 O-O d6 7
d4 exd4 8 cxd4 Bb6 9 Nc3 Bg4 10 Qa4 Bxf3 11 gxf3 Bxd4
12 Bb5 Bxc3 13 Bxc6+ Kf8 14 Bxb7 Bxa1 15 Bxa8 Qxa8 16 f4
f6 17 Ba3 Qc8 18 f5 Be5 19 f4 Qb7 20 fxe5 fxe5 21 Qd7 Qb6+
22 Kh1 Nf6 23 Qd8+ Ne8 24 f6 Resigns.
Max Fleissig – Jacob Rothberger
Vienna, 26-27 January 1872
King’s Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 f4 exf4 3 Nf3 Be7 4 Bc4 Bh4+ 5 Kf1 Bf6 6 e5 Be7
7 Nc3 c6 8 d4 d5 9 Bb3 g5 10 h4 g4 11 Ne1 Bxh4 12 Bxf4
Bxe1 13 Qxe1 Be6 14 Rh5 Qc7 15 Qh4 Nd7 16 Ne2 Ne7
17 Rc1 Ng6 18 Qg3 O-O-O 19 c4 dxc4 20 Bxc4 Qb6 21 d5 cxd5
22 Bxd5+ Kb8 23 Bb3 Rc8 24 Rc3 Drawn.
Max Fleissig – Pollach
Vienna, 26-27 January 1872
Giuoco Piano
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bc4 Bc5 4 O-O Nf6 5 d3 O-O 6 Bg5 Na5
7 Nxe5 Nxc4 8 Nxc4 b5 9 Ne3 Bxe3 10 fxe3 Qe7 11 Bxf6 gxf6
12 Qg4+ Kh8 13 Qh4 Kg7 14 Qg4+ Kh8 15 Qh4 Drawn.
Max Fleissig – H. Lichtenstern
Vienna, 26-27 January 1872
King’s Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 f4 exf4 3 Bc4 d6 4 d4 Qh4+ 5 Kf1 Bg4 6 Nf3 Nc6
7 c3 O-O-O 8 Bxf4 g5 9 Bg3 Bxf3 10 gxf3 Qh3+ 11 Kf2 g4 12
f4 Nh6
13 b4 a6 14 b5 Na5 15 Bf1 Qh5 16 bxa6 bxa6 17 Bxa6+ Nb7
18 Qb3 Resigns.
We have yet to find Capablanca being described during
his lifetime as ‘the Mozart of chess’. As regards other
comparisons, Thomas Niessen (Aachen, Germany) supplies
the following:
‘Loyd’s problems constantly remind us of Mozart’s
music: there is the same lack of everything
commonplace, forced or manufactured; the same feeling,
within us, that these productions, as it were,
composed themselves.’
Source: Dubuque Chess Journal, September 1875,
page 363.
7663. London, 1972 (C.N.s 6081 &
7659)
From page 190 of the April 1973 Chess Life &
Review:
The magazine stated that the photograph was taken after
Pachman had played 14...b5. Eley won the game in 24 moves
and annotated it on pages 266-268 of the June 1973 BCM.
Alan Smith (Manchester, England) has
found these games, played in a simultaneous exhibition,
in the Baltimore American of 9
June 1901 and 16
June
1901:
Emanuel Lasker – A.W. Schofield
Baltimore, 30 May 1901
Evans Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bc4 Bc5 4 b4 Bxb4 5 c3 Bc5 6 d4 exd4
7 cxd4 Bb6 8 O-O d6 9 Bg5 f6 10 Bf4 Na5 11 Nc3 Nxc4 12
Qa4+ Bd7 13 Qxc4 Ne7 14 a4 a5 15 Rab1 Ng6 16 Bg3 Bg4 17
Nd2 Qd7 18 f4 Qf7 19 Qxf7+ Kxf7
20 Rxb6 cxb6 21 f5 Ne7 22 h3 Rhc8 23 Nb5 Rc2 24 Nxd6+
Kg8 25 Bf4 Be2 26 Re1 Ba6 27 Nf3 Nc6 28 g4 Nb4 29 Rc1
Rxc1+ 30 Bxc1 Rd8 31 Bf4 Nd3 32 Bg3 Nb2 33 e5 Nc4 34 Ne4
fxe5 35 dxe5 b5 36 e6 bxa4 37 f6 gxf6 38 Nxf6+ Kg7 39 e7
Rd1+ 40 Kf2 Bb5 41 e8(Q) Bxe8 42 Nxe8+ Kf7 43 Nc7 a3 44
Ne5+ Nxe5 45 Bxe5 a2 46 Kf3 a1(Q) 47 Bxa1 Rxa1 48 Ke4 Rc1
49 Nb5 Rc6 50 g5 a4 51 h4 Kg6 52 White resigns.
Emanuel Lasker – E.B. Adams
Baltimore, 30 May 1901
Evans Gambit Accepted
1 e4 e5 2 Nf3 Nc6 3 Bc4 Bc5 4 b4 Bxb4 5 c3 Bc5 6 d4 Bb6 7
dxe5 a6 8 Qd5 Qe7 9 Ba3 Qe6 10 Bb3 Nge7 11 Qd1 Qg6 12 O-O
Qh5 13 Nbd2 Nxe5 14 Nxe5 Qxe5 15 Nc4 Qf6 16 e5 Qg6 17 Qf3
Ba7 18 Rfe1 Nf5 19 Re4 h5 20 Rf4 Nh6 21 Re1 Ng4
22 Rxf7 Bxf2+ 23 Kh1 c5 24 e6 dxe6 25 Nd6+ Kd8 26 Rd1 Bd4
27 Bxc5 Nf2+ 28 Qxf2 Bxf2 29 Nxb7+ Ke8 30 Rf8+ Rxf8 31
Rd8+ Kf7 32 Rxf8 mate.
Emanuel Lasker – J. Ross Diggs
Baltimore, 30 May 1901
French Defence
1 e4 e6 2 d4 d6 3 Nc3 c6 4 Nf3 Be7 5 Bd3 Bd7 6 O-O Qc7 7
Bf4 Nf6 8 h3 h6 9 Re1 a6 10 Ne2 b5 11 a4 b4 12 a5 c5 13
dxc5 Qxc5 14 Be3 Qc8 15 Qd2 Nc6 16 Ned4 Ne5 17 Qxb4 d5 18
Qd2 Nxf3+ 19 gxf3 e5
20 exd5 Nxd5 21 Nf5 Bxf5 22 Bxf5 Qxf5 23 Qxd5 O-O 24 Kh2
Qxc2 25 Rg1 Bf6 26 Bxh6 Rfd8 27 Qe4 Qxe4 28 fxe4 Rac8 29
Rg2 Rc2 30 Bxg7 Bxg7 31 Rag1 Rdd2 32 Rxg7+ Kf8 33 R1g2
Rxb2 34 Rg8+ Ke7 35 Ra8 Rxf2 36 Rxf2 Rxf2+ 37 Kg3 Rf6 38
h4 Rg6+
39 Kh3 Rc6 40 h5 Rf6 41 Kh4 Rf4+ 42 Kg5 Rf6 43 h6
Resigns.
Olimpiu G. Urcan has forwarded an article ‘Lasker
Explains Chess Prodigies’ by William Weer on page 6 of
the Sunday Eagle Magazine (Brooklyn), 16 May
1926:
Larger version
7666. Advice on castling (C.N. 7578)
From page 2 of Practical Chess Exercises by W.S.
Kenny (London, 1818) comes this rule:
‘Not to castle, except when necessary, because the move
is often lost by it.’
On pages 185-186 of Chess to Enjoy (New York,
1978) A. Soltis attributed to the composer Richard
Strauss (1864-1949) a 17-move win over ‘Zukkerbrekker’
(Vienna, 1906). Then there was this item by K. Whyld on
page 108 of the February 1996 BCM:
In fact, the game was one of two played against Leopold
Zuckerbäcker by another Richard Strauss (born in Vienna
in 1880) which were published on pages 154-156 of the Wiener
Schachzeitung, May-June 1906:
From Leonard Barden (London):
‘Pachman played at the Evening Standard
tournament in Islington, London in 1972 on my
initiative. The Standard naturally wanted a
personality to channel publicity for the Open, and
news of Pachman’s release from prison and emigration
to West Germany came a few weeks before the
tournament. I had got on well with him when we met
at Olympiads and, even earlier, at Southsea, 1949,
and I also knew Wolfgang Unzicker, at whose home in
Munich he stayed after his release. The Standard
was willing to pay for his trip to London, so he
agreed to compete.
While in prison Pachman had sent an emotional
rallying call to chessplayers which was published on
page 351 of the October 1968 Chess Life. At
the end of the opening ceremony at London, 1972 I
read out this message to the players, after which
Pachman entered the hall and walked, applauded, to
the stage. As I recollect, many of my audience
looked fidgety, obviously not very interested and
evidently keen for the first round to start.
We wanted him to have an interesting first-round
opponent, so Stewart Reuben adjusted the draw
slightly so that Pachman was paired with Jonathan
Speelman, then aged 16. Pachman won. Of course, he
was not technically or psychologically prepared for
a weekend tournament with three rounds on the
Saturday, so it was no great surprise that the next
day Brian Eley caught him in the “DERLD” [the
Delayed Exchange Ruy López Deferred], which was
then a much analysed opening in England.
I was at that time the chess adviser to Faber and
Faber, whose director, Charles Monteith, had a
celebrated record for spotting and publishing
winners – which had included Waiting for Godot
and Look Back in Anger. Faber and Faber had
a mutual arrangement with Simon & Schuster and
was offered the British rights (for a low figure) to
Fischer’s My 60 Memorable Games, which
Monteith took up on my enthusiastic recommendation.
So when I knew Pachman was coming and that he had
announced that he was preparing his memoirs, I told
Monteith. Another publisher was also in the hunt.
When Pachman arrived at Heathrow Airport there were
flowers to greet him from the rival publisher, but
Monteith was there with a contract ready for
signature. “Flowers good, contract better”, said
Pachman. The memoirs, Checkmate in Prague,
were published by Faber and Faber in 1975 but, alas,
were written in a rather turgid style and were a
marketing flop.
Clement Freud was invited to award the prizes at
the 1972 Evening Standard congress because
Stewart Reuben had read Freud’s articles on the
Spassky v Fischer match; he was suitable as the
high-profile personality we wanted to justify the Standard’s
backing.
As well as money, offered without my asking for it
by the legendary editor Charles Wintour, the Standard
provided daily advance mentions of the forthcoming
congress, which, added to the Fischer boom effects,
brought about the then world record entry (a total
of 1,208 entrants for the five events).’
7669. The rattle of the tumbrils
This article by G.H. Diggle, the Badmaster, first
appeared in the September 1978 Newsflash and was
given on page 38 of Chess Characters (Geneva,
1984):
‘The Lincolnshire Chess Association celebrated its
Centenary last April. The Lincoln Chess Club (which the
Badmaster remembers with affection as his first one)
goes back still further, and was in existence as early
as 1853. It was not honoured, however, by the BM’s
presence until 1921, when he joined as a youth. The Club
then consisted of some 12 “good men and true” – to wit,
three retail tradesmen, two schoolmasters, the Vicar of
Bassingham a few miles out, a chemist, a Collector of
Taxes, the foreman of a brickworks at Bracebridge, a
plumber, a retired coal merchant, and a warder from
Lincoln Prison (a very mild man like Mr Barraclough in Porridge)
– he always had a lost game and would keep on repeating
whenever his opponent moved: “Yes, I hear the rattle of
the tumbrils!” The Club met on Fridays at the Arcadia
Café on the High Bridge over the canal; the subscription
was 5/- per annum; the club assets were a dozen
weather-beaten sets kept in blue bags, and one
asthmatical chess clock, only used on state occasions
such as the final game of the County Championship, which
had to be played “at Lincoln, and in public”. The club
team boasted one eminent problem composer (the late A.M.
Sparke), but after our three top boards (Sparke, J.H.
Todd and R. Combes) the standard of our lower echelons
can be gauged from the fact that in some cases their
entire “Opening Theory” did not extend beyond the first
three moves of the Giuoco Piano, and there was one
member of 40 years’ standing who never found out that to
win with K and P against K, the K should lead the P and
not follow it. Competing at this technical level, the BM
soon rose like a meteor to half-way up the team in club
matches; indeed, with his combinative powers budding
forth at this “romantic” era of his career, it would be
quite unjust to him to aver that “the only tune that he
could play” was Bishop takes King’s Rook’s Pawn check.
Like Anderssen and Zukertort, he had his great moments –
he once sacrificed his Queen in an off-hand game and
would doubtless have “electrified the spectators” had
they not, to his disgust, persisted in crowding round a
neighbouring board where someone was beating up a
solitary King with a Queen and a couple of Rooks. Two of
the club members were devout Sabbatarians who would
never let a chessboard see the light of day on Sundays;
yet with strange inconsistency they would come out of
chapel, and not only stand about discussing how they
ought to have won last Friday, but would even attempt to
draw “unclear” diagrams on the gravel with their
walking-sticks to enforce their arguments.’
7670. Mate-in-three problem by Alekhine?
Michael McDowell (Westcliff-on-sea, England) asks whether
information is available about the problem ascribed to
Alekhine on page 370 of CHESS, 28 May 1955:
The key move was given on page 443 of the 10 August 1955
issue, but without further particulars about the source of
the composition.
Further complications arise, as Christian Sánchez
(Rosario, Argentina) draws attention to an account by
Najdorf quoted on page 86 of Liliana Najdorf’s book Najdorf
x Najdorf (Buenos Aires, 1999):
‘Luego de ganar el torneo en memoria de
Capablanca, el Che me invitó a jugar diez
simultáneas a ciegas contra el equipo ministerial.
Acepté. Él ocupó el tablero número tres.
Participaron Raúl Castro, hermano de Fidel, el
capitán Osmani Cienfuegos, sobrino de Camilo, el
comandante Alberto Bayo y otros. El Che era un
jugador bastante fuerte. Prefería el juego agresivo
y dado a los sacrificios, pero bien preparados. Con
él llegué a estar un poco mejor y le ofrecí tablas.
Las rechazó.
– Mire, maestro – me dijo – siendo estudiante de
medicina perdí contra usted en una exhibición que
dio contra quince tableros en el hotel Provincial de
Mar del Plata y ahora prefiero la derrota o buscar
el desquite.
Acepté la invitación a la lucha y tuve que ganarle.’
Thus, compared to the version quoted in
C.N. 7656 the roles of Najdorf and Che Guevara are
reversed. This time, Najdorf says that he made a draw
offer and that Che Guevara rejected it. See too
Najdorf’s words quoted in a ChessBase
article (which, incidentally, mis-dates ‘The Polish Immortal’).
Moreover, the ChessBase article also refers to the Najdorf
v Che Guevara game in the context of a blindfold display,
which prompts Mr Sánchez to wonder whether there was more
than one exhibition in Havana involving the two players.
Our correspondent has found five photographs taken during
the game given in C.N. 4809 (showing Che Guevara pondering
the moves 2...Nc6, 3...a6, 5...Be7 and 15...Nxc6). The
five pictures include the ones given in C.N.s 4809 and
6500, as well as the following from pages 82-83 of Najdorf
x Najdorf:
7672. Tal’s early childhood
Mark Josephson (Highland Park, IL, USA) is seeking
information on ‘how Mikhail Tal and his family avoided
the Nazis, as they were Jews from Riga’.
We note this passage on page 21 of Tal’s 100 Best
Games 1961-1973 by B. Cafferty (London, 1975):
‘In 1969 Tal gave a long interview for the
correspondent of the Latvian young people’s paper Padomju
Jaunatne which was later reproduced in the Latvian
chess magazine ...
“Q. Tell us about your personal background.”
“A. I was born 9 November 1936 in Riga in a doctor’s
family. During the Great Fatherland War (i.e. 1941-45) I
was evacuated to Yurla (central Ural region). I first
went to school at seven and was soon put into the third
class. I returned to Riga as soon as it was freed in
November 1944 ...”’
Wanted: accounts giving more details.
C.N. 642 suggested ‘an interesting game in all its
phases’ as ‘the Crown Prince of chess clichés’. For the
title of King, ‘the rest is a matter of technique’ is
doubtless a front-runner. Wanted: other nominations.
Eduardo Bauzá Mercére (New York, NY,
USA) quotes a remark about Carl Walbrodt in the Brooklyn
Daily Standard Union, 1 April 1893:
‘He is about five feet five inches in height.’
Peter Anderberg (Harmstorf, Germany) has found this
detailed report on pages 6-7 of the 28 January 1872
edition of Neue Freie Presse:
Mr Anderberg also reports that both of the Strauss v
Zuckerbäcker games had been published by Georg Marco in
his column on page 4 of the supplement to Hamburger
Nachrichten, 11 February 1906:
Our correspondent mentions too that the ‘Garmisch,
1945’ claim was made in an unsigned item ‘Richard
Strauss war Schachspieler’ on page 390 of the
14/2000 Schach Magazin 64 and that in the
following issue (page 420) he had this correction
published:
7677. Bogo/Nimzo-Indian (C.N. 2839)
Below is part of C.N. 2839 (see page 73 of Chess
Facts and Fables):
On page 34 of The Encyclopedia of Chess (1977),
Golombek called [1 d4 Nf6 2 c4 e6 3 Nf3 Bb4+] the
‘Bogoljubow Defence’, observing: ‘Otherwise known under
the hideous name of Bogo-Indian Defence, this defence
often transposes to other openings (Nimzo-Indian,
Queen’s Indian, Catalan, etc.).’ W.H. Cozens observed on
page 401 of the September 1978 BCM that Golombek
‘describes the word Bogo-Indian as hideous, while
allowing the exactly analogous Nimzo-Indian to pass
without stricture’, and the paperback edition of the Encyclopedia
(1981) dropped the ‘hideous’ criticism.
We now add that Golombek touched on the matter in his
column in The Times of 5 February 1977:
‘Another opening with different and confusing names is
the defence introduced by Nimzowitsch to the Queen’s
Pawn Opening. Though I have fought for some time against
the ugly hybrid form of Nimzoindian Defence, I now have
to admit defeat since it does seem the most economical
way to describe the opening.’
Elsewhere in that article, about openings nomenclature,
Golombek wrote:
‘Where chessplaying is most active and where in
consequence opening theory is most rife, there
nationalistic feelings rage and madden round the land.
The Russians and the Germans, the Dutch and the
Yugoslavs, are all most active in this field. In most
cases it would take a Solomon, or a Caucasian
chalk-circle, to determine the true parent of an opening
variation.
I myself have suffered at the hands, or rather the
claws, of these predators, having had no less than four
lines filched from me in the course of some 40 years of
international play. Nor am I the only sufferer. There is
the Reynolds variation in the Semi-Slav that the Germans
have called the Klaus Junge line and the Abrahams
variation of the same opening known to the Dutch as the
Noteboom line.
Perhaps one ought to try and form a RSPCOI (a Royal
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Opening
Innovators).’
Participants in the match between Switzerland and
Southern Germany (Berne, 27-28 July 1923):
Source: Schweizerische Schachzeitung, August
1923, page 120.
Gene Gnandt (Houston, TX, USA) asks whether the full
name and birth/death dates of General Busserolles are
available.
He also quotes from page 160 of David Lawson’s Paul
Morphy The Pride and Sorrow of Chess (New York,
1976):
‘On 14 February (as published in the New Orleans Sunday
Delta, 27 March 1859), at a fête given
“by the Duke Decazes ... [Morphy] played two games
blindfold against M. Prefect Lacoste and General
Busserolles, both fine players, winning both. The
moves were transmitted by Mr Lequesne ... and during
the whole of the performance Mr Morphy sustained an
animated conversation with Mme Decazes and several
ladies and gentlemen.”’
Page 89 of the September-October 1943 American
Chess Bulletin had an interview with Botvinnik
published in ‘a recent issue of the “Information
Bulletin” of the USSR Embassy at Washington’. The future
world champion’s remarks included the following:
‘The War has caused many losses among Soviet
chessplayers. The talented young masters Sergei
Belavenets, Joseph Rudakovsky and Lev Kaiyev have
perished in battle for their country. Mark Stolberg,
18-year-old [sic] Rostov master, is missing in
action. A German bomb killed Alexander
Ilyin-Zhenevsky, one of the old Russian masters, who
at a tournament in Moscow in 1935 [sic – 1925]
won a sensational game from Capablanca, then world
champion. I was personally indebted to Ilyin-Zhenevsky
for organizing my match with Grossmeister Salo Flohr
in 1933. Ilyin-Zhenevsky was at that time working in
the Soviet diplomatic mission in Prague. Also among
the missing are the masters Ilya Rabinovich,
participant in many international chess tournaments,
and Nikolai Ryumin, whose name swept the entire chess
world in 1935 when he won a victory over Capablanca in
the first round of the Second Moscow International
Tournament.
Other gifted players are taking the places of those
who have gone. In the city championship tournament in
Tashkent, 16-year-old Mark Makov [sic –
Taimanov] shared the first and second prizes with
Grossmeister Salo Flohr, who has become a Soviet
citizen and is now residing in Tbilisi, capital of
Georgia. Considerable improvement is noticeable in the
playing of Vasili Smyslov and Isaac Bogoslavsky [sic
– Boleslavsky].’
Regarding Rudakovsky, Jeremy Gaige’s Chess
Personalia states that he died in 1947, in
Chernovtsy.
7681.
‘Won by a Lady’
Georges Bertola (Bussigny, Switzerland) draws attention
to a game on pages 18-20 of the Chess Player’s
Magazine, January 1867:
1 e4 e5 2 f4 exf4 3 Nf3 g5 4 Bc4 Bg7 5 O-O h6 6 d4 d6 7
Nc3 Ne7 8 b3 Bg4 9 Nd5 O-O 10 Qd3 Nbc6
11 e5 Bxf3 12 Nf6+ Bxf6 13 exf6 Bh5 14 Bxf4 Bg6 15 Qh3
Nf5 16 Bxg5 hxg5 17 Rxf5 Nxd4 18 Qh6 Nxf5 19 Qxg6+ Kh8 20
Qh5+ Kg8 21 Qxg5+ Kh8 22 Qxf5 and wins.
It was merely stated that the game was ‘recently won by a
Lady’ and that Black was Löwenthal (the magazine’s
Editor). Mr Bertola asks whether White’s identity is known
and whether any earlier game-scores exist in which a
prominent player was defeated by a woman.
A database
showing the alleged Alekhine problem has been pointed out
by Han Bükülmez (Ecublens, Switzerland). The source
specified there is L’Italia Scacchistica, 1932,
and courtesy of Luca D’Ambrosio (Bolzano, Italy) and
Alessandro Sanvito (Milan, Italy) we reproduce page 173 of
the 1 June 1932 issue:
That, of course, is hardly the end of the story. How much
further back can the problem be traced?
Chess
Notes Archives
Copyright: Edward Winter. All
rights reserved.
|