A Review of Alexander Alekhine's New York 1927

Alexander Alekhine, New York 1927 (Russell Enterprises 2011). 168 pp. $19.95. Reviewed by Dennis Monokroussos.

Unlike Alexander Alekhine's justly renowned tournaments books on New York 1924 and Nottingham 1936, his book on 1927 is harder to find and less well-known. But why should this be? It was an important tournament with only first-class players. It could have been stronger, had Emanuel Lasker, Efim Bogoljubow and Akiba Rubinstein been present, but even in their absence it was a tremendous lineup:

1. Jose Capablanca (the world champion and tournament winner)
2. Alekhine (second place, and world champion just a few months later)
3. Aron Nimzowitsch (the future author of My System was a genuine contender then)
4. Milan Vidmar (a world class player who was also a notable engineer)
5. Rudolf Spielmann (a great attacking player - see his The Art of Sacrifice in Chess)
6. Frank Marshall (another great attacker and lover of complications)

60% of the games were drawn, which may have been high by the standards of the day, but then again, most tournaments then were of mixed strength. Some great games were played there too, so that's not a very good reason.

Perhaps there are three reasons for the book's rarity. First, it was originally written in German, not English. This is odd, considering that it was an American tournament, and Alekhine wrote tournament books in English both before and after this one. Second, as GM Andy Soltis notes in his foreword, there wasn't much drama in the contest, as Capablanca won going away. (Indeed, the victory was so easy that he [allegedly] went out of his way to avoid winning at least one game, slipping his opponent a note through the arbiter telling him to play better!) And perhaps there is a third reason, one that cuts both ways, and that's Alekhine's repeated, over-the-top bludgeoning of Capablanca in the introduction and throughout the text.

Alekhine only wrote the tournament book after his successful world championship match with Capablanca, and it reads like an "IN YOUR FACE!!!" to a chess world that thought Capablanca was invincible. Alekhine's introduction begins like this:

We know that the year 1925 brought Capablanca the biggest disappointment he had experienced up until then in his international tournament career: in the Moscow tournament, he took third only with great effort, lost two games to players of a relatively lesser class, and escaped defeat in some other games (as against Reti or Loewenfisch, for example), mainly thanks to the kindness or carelessness of the opponents....

We may say without exaggeration that for Capablanca, the somewhat negative impression of his qualitiative results during his Moscow performance cast a much more perceptible shadow over his reputation than his lost games - because even Lasker, the unsurpassed tournament fighter, was third in Hastings 1895 and shared second and third place with Janowski in Cambridge-Springs 1904.... But during the entire, very long period of his world championship, Lasker was never so defeated as Capablanca was by Verlinsky. It was especially this impression on the part of the general public - that he, although extremely rarely, could play absolutely weakly - that Capablanca had to try to obliterate sometime soon.

In other words, Capa had to win an event to save his reputation. This led to the formation of the New York 1927 tournament, and here Alekhine hastens to note and dwell on the fact that none of Capablanca's European competitors (i.e. everyone but Marshall) had never won even a single game against him, and Marshall had a lousy record as well. Indeed, Alekhine suggests that some of Capa's opponents in the event played as if commanded to make second- or third-rate moves, others were afraid, and still others were only peaceably inclined against him.

Alekhine spends four pages in the intro going recapping Capablanca's games, to see if the Cuban's sporting achievement rose to the same level in qualitative terms. (You'll never guess what he concludes.) Shockingly (not really), he's not impressed. In his four games with Alekhine, only the first one was real (after losing the first, Alekhine played only for a draw), and he says of his own play that it was so bad that "the refutation of [my inferior moves] would have been easy even for an average master" (p. 17).

Of Capablanca's games with Nimzowitsch, he only praises Capablanca's play in the third game, but hastens to say this: "But what a helpless impression Nimzovich's posiitonal play makes! Move 16.g4, for example, is unworthy of even a mediocre amateur. By the way, in this game Capablanca's play is not even consistently flawless...and only the final part is impressive in its logical simplicity" (p. 18).

This continues with the remaining players, but you get the point. Capablanca's play (but not just his) is critiqued vociferously in the games section as well, but Alekhine does offer a retraction of sorts:

But I have to state specifically that this...is directed solely toward the half-mythic Capablanca ...[the superplayer]. For when one takes the trouble to rid his thinking of this anesthetizing legend, then one comes, of course, to the belief that Capablanca is entirely a first-class master, whose ability lies much more in intuition than in critical thinking. (Page 20)

Alekhine then analyzes Capablanca's strengths and weaknesses in the opening, middlegame and endgame, most famously concluding about his predecessor's play in the last stage of the game that "one will have to come to the realization that Capablanca is no remarkable endgame artist, that his proficiency in this phase of the game is decidely of a more technical nature, and that there are other masters (like Rubinstein, for example, in rook endgames) who in some variations certainly are or were superior to him....in the endgame he is not to be feared by a first-class master, for here he succeeds only in exceptional cases to rise above the mediocre" (p. 25). Wow. Alekhine does make a case for this conclusion, but whether it is successful is a debate for another day.

While the chief historical interest of the book is in Alekhine's commentary on Capablanca, it's worthy in its own right as a purely chess book too. Alekhine's notes are very good, especially by the standard of the day, both in terms of their analytical depth, the insight of the text, and the psychologically piquant and sometimes biting comments.

Definitely recommended for chess history buffs, and a good book for chess fans in general.

Comments

[Brazilian]

Alekhine was [DM: mean-spirited]; but then, so were many of the chess authors of his age. It's actually remarkable how much the vitriol level in chess writing decreased after the 1940's. Perhaps it was because master-level chess became professionalized (under the Soviet regime), rather than a scattered worldwide diaspora of prima donnas.

As a teenager, I remember poring over a few of Alekhine's collections, and enjoying the clarity of annotations. But seriously--did the guy have a Capablanca complex, or what?

[MNb]

This kind of vitriol indeed was quite common in those days. The Tarrasch-Nimzowitsch feud was the most famous example.
Bolgoljubow refused to play in New York. The letter with which he declined the invitation can be found at Chess Cafe. It's a fantastic piece of arrogance. Spielmann was chosen because of his excellent performance at Bad Semmering the year before. Rubinstein simply was beyond his prime.
Lasker of course had retired. Mentioning him is something like saying that San Luis 2005 could have been stronger if Kasparov had been there - very true, but rather irrelevant.
Marshall participated to please the American hosts.

[Larry L]

First, Dennis thanks for the find write up. I have always been integred by this tournament and how little was available about it.
It is my recollection that the tournament was held to determine Capablanca's challenger for the world title, essentially the first candidates tournement. The winner, or second place if Capablanca won, would be considered the rightful challenger to play Capablanca for the championship.

[DM: This is a common misperception, but a misperception nonetheless. Alekhine was already contracted to play Capablanca.]

I cannot remember why Nimzovitch, Bogojubow and Rubinstein were excluded all were at least in the top ten at this time and could have challenged for at least second place. While Rubinstein was no longer the force he was 15 years earlier, he had a plus score against Capablanca and most of the other players at that time. Also strangely missing were Reti and Tartakower. Maybe someone can shed some light on why Vidmar and Spielman were participants and the others were not. However, Lasker was most likely excluded because he had no interest at that time to regain his title.

[DM: Lasker was angry at his exclusion. It was the result of a spat from NY 1924 he had with Lederer, who organized both tournaments. But I repeat: NY 1927 was *not* a Candidates event.]

[naisortep]

These letters between Lasker and Capablanca shed light on their relationship at the time and Lasker alludes to his friction with the NY 1927 tournament committee at the end:
http://blog.chess.com/qtsii/lasker-letter-part-4

This passage by Em. Lasker must have bothered Capablanca:
"His resolve not to enter any Tournament in which I participate is regrettable and foolish: regrettable from the viewpoint of the evolution of chess and foolish for his own sake, because his Tournament record against me is disastrous and it is in his interest to improve it. "

[Larry L]

Dennis thanks for the clarification on it not being a candidates event. However, I remember reading the "misinformation" that it was. From the other postings it seems that Capablanca may have had significant input on who was to play and who would not.