The Leonard Bernstein Letters (40 page)

Dear Mr. Bernstein,

I wanted to say “good-bye” and “thank you” after the concert yesterday.
⁶⁹
But when Beethoven and the tremendous applause was finished and I wanted to go to the stage and see you, I found the door closed.

I can only repeat what I have already said: the Ravel concerto is almost as difficult for the orchestra as it is for the soloist, and a success depends upon the conductor as well as upon me, therefore should be divided 50 and 50! I know this out of experience and appreciate with thanks what you have been doing.

The performance of the concerto on Monday was, I think, really excellent! Please let the fact that it wasn't quite as good on Tuesday not spoil your remembering of it!

Don't reply to this letter.

Sincerely & friendly,

Yours,

Paul Wittgenstein

Dearest Serge Alexandrovich,

I don't know quite how to say this, but I am in the position of having to come to Boston. We have tried everything – Reiner, Stokowski, [José] Iturbi (lesser names they do not accept) – [Manuel] Rosenthal (they never heard of him) – Morton Gould (he is what they call “box-office poison” in Boston) – everything has failed. We even concocted an idea to send a concert of operatic excerpts with our friend [Laszlo] Halasz, but he would do it only if I took over
Onegin
, which I am not up to at this moment. It would be disastrous to do
Onegin
without sufficient preparation; and knowing the situation at the Center as I do, I cannot accept that responsibility. Especially since the premiere is scheduled for the very next night after the Boston visit!

I know that you will understand, better than anyone on earth, what my situation is, and what my obligations are. There is no alternative left; and I do it with a heavy heart, I assure you. I can only hope that the entire incident will be soon forgotten; for it has been the most difficult moment of my short
career.
⁷¹
The last thing in the world I ever expected to do was to do something against your wish; and here Fate has plunged me into this
impasse
.

I think I mentioned the proposed program to you:

Purcell – Fantasy on One Note

Walton – Portsmouth Point Overture

Britten – Violin Concerto

——

Elgar – Enigma Variations

I have thought of substituting Dvořák's Second Symphony for the Elgar (I did it here this week, and fell in love with it.) If you have any objection to this, or to any other piece on the program, please let me know, and I will change it immediately.

All the reports of your performance of Aaron's Symphony are superb. I regret so much that I could not hear an actual performance; but the rehearsal that I did hear was a great experience.

I had my ballet premiere last night, and all the reactions seem very favorable for the score. I think it would make a nice little concert piece; and I look forward with so much eagerness to hearing it with the Boston Symphony. It will be a real joy for me.

Again, dear Serge Alexandrovich, I know you will be sympathetic to my predicament with the City Symphony; and please, please forgive me for ever having caused such an unpleasant experience for you.

In all devotion,

Leonard

Dear Lenny,

I received your invitation to participate in the B'nai B'rith contest. I am eager to do so. The only unperformed piece I have is
Song of Anguish
. Even though my
neoclassic friends prefer my later biblical venture, I agree with Aaron who felt that
Song of Anguish
is as good as anything I've done. I would love to see you and perhaps Tod Duncan (who has learned the part) premiere it in March, but there is one difficulty concerning my entering it in the contest: it lasts 18 minutes instead of the demanded 15. May I enter it anyway?

Good luck with your Boston concert on the 13th. I am unfortunately in Baltimore on that day. But I have already bought tickets for
Facsimile
on the 18th. The best to Helen.

As always,

Lukas

P.S. As I now approach the mature age of 25 this contest is one of very few I can still have a crack at. It's funny not to be “too young” anymore but “too old” for many of these things. No more prodigy stuff. Actually I feel good about it.

L. F.

Mine deeoah,

Mine
God! and Dine God! and I miss you terribly. This would, as usual, be your meat. But Felicia is really working out. It's a little early to tell anything, but I sense a possible future. How can I tell you in a letter? It must mostly wait. But I can send you signposts, sort of, as we go along.

This week has been Coma-week. Doing zero, absolutely. When the sun is out it's divine; otherwise freezauküdü. Many fireplaces and scotch, and our own bungalow make it the luxury of all time. Beautiful horses (and can Felicia outride me!), and a pool, when possible.

I've gotten a great idea on the picture and Lester seems sold on it. If it works it will be sensational – a Hollywood
first
– and a really significant vehicle for my debut. The writers are dopes – but this has nothing to do with them.

Two recurrent refrains, which I shall not repeat, dominate this letter:
I miss you
, and
Any signs of a job
? I pray for you. I'm sure you'd do marvelously out here, if we could get you a test. I'm sort of working on it.

I hear
If The Shoe
is a fiasco,
⁷³
goody two-shoes.

Adolph, Betty & Adolph are doing fine, looking great, and send you love. They say Elizabeth Taylor at MGM is your type, but you're prettier.

Write me great gobs of stuff. We're taking a little Ford convertible to Mexico next week. Wish you could come. Shit.

Sunday there's a party here. Dinah Shore & George Montgomery & Buddy Rogers & Billy Wilder & Ad. & Betty & Ad., and so many more. Then Sunday night Rapper is threatening one with Gregory Peck & Lana [Turner] and everything. But that's all. I do nothing but rest. I'm tant fort and grand.

Mü la dü! and Felicia sends hers & will write soon. I miss you horribly. Mü la dü,

Ladim

Dear H,

Things are beginning to move again. These last two weeks have really done wonders; I have rarely felt so rested. Felicia and I have just returned from a little side trip through Tijuana, Mexico and Palm Springs – and it was a gorgeous little interlude. The desert is just perfect now, and the mountains beat everything. We ride and sleep and eat and gain weight and become brown.

As I say, things are beginning to move again. I've had an idea which may make this picture
⁷⁴
a phenomenal thing for Hollywood. It would involve me in four ways – composer, conductor, actor and writer. (I've already done a little writing on the screen play.) In other words, really my picture. If it's to be done at all, it must be begun now, while I'm here, so that there's a musical basis before I leave. Then I can finish it in June, assuming that the Soviet invitation doesn't go through, which I expect will be the case. Even if I have to dash back for two weeks after Tanglewood for final touches or retouches, it would be worth it. Financially it would be more than worth it, and artistically it will be a great satisfaction. I am beginning negotiations now, and hope to complete them soon. Of course, I will call Kouss first and try to avoid another hitch with him. I think you would be very excited about this idea.

As to the
Facsimile
, I hope to have the ending in a very few days, along with program notes. When I send it, get it to [Arnold] Arnstein, and tell him to make parts. The cost should be stood by Harms, who would have to have scores & parts in their rental library anyway. (They have to pay
some
copyist. And they'll rook me for it in the end, as usual. Ah well, the way of the world.) Cowan, by the way, has an idea on my publisher problem. We'll see.

Felicia and I grow closer all the time. She's an angel, and a wonderful companion. I shouldn't be surprised if it worked out beautifully in the end.

Love,

L

Dear H,

Life moves on apace. I'm toying with the notion of becoming engaged to Felicia. No marriage yet – she must stay here and do a movie contract, and I must travel. We think of it for June, and it's an exciting and somewhat confusing prospect, as you must imagine. But it's good – I know that, and there's no harm in trying. The pursuit of happiness, you know, is one of our few human rights. Listen to Winchell Sunday night. If I decide, he will probably announce it.

Your notes on the
Facsimile
ending are exactly right. The new ending replaces the old ballet ending after the long pause. I've sent it out, and I think it's good. I spoke to Kouss the other day, and he has me in circles. He wants me to marry immediately, he says movies are fine, “but not now”, whatever “now” is, and he doesn't want me to play
Facsimile
! This after many calls & wires to Burk, and head-splitting figuring on broadcasts. I don't know what to say to him in argument – he's so self-contradictory. What a difficult relationship!

[John N.] Burk
⁷⁵
told me you had a cold. Do watch out; everyone in the East seems to have one, Kouss, Blum, etc. Always on vacation one gets a cold! I have so far been spared. The climate makes me sleepy, but the horses and much sleep make up for it. I am now just ripe for a
real
vacation – just beginning to be relaxed. Well – perfection never did exist anywhere.

On the movie – don't worry. I won't sign any contract until after I return. Negotiations are proceeding now, and I'm composing a little, and having story conferences – but that's all. I don't think it would hurt my conducting career, and it seems like my old friend “fun”.

[…]

I'll call you from Cincinnati (next week already!) Meanwhile get well and rested. Have you been able to see your
friend
at all during your rest-month?

Love,

L

Dear Leonard,

My last talk over the telephone with you left a very disturbing impression. And these are the reasons:

Speaking of your programs you stubbornly insisted on the performance of your own composition, even for the broadcast. Do you realize that you are invited as a guest conductor, to show your capacity as interpreter of great musical works? May I ask you: do you think that your composition is worthy of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and the Boston organization? Can it be placed on the same level as Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Stravinsky, Prokofieff, Bartók or Copland? … You may answer my question saying that I often perform also works of lesser value and scope. But you must not forget that I am the permanent conductor, that I stand at the head of this organization to further and develop the musical culture of this country, and, therefore, have the obligation to help young composers. Thus, my responsibilities are very different from yours, or other guest conductors.

I also want you to know my reaction to your “assurance” that Thor Johnson was invited as conductor of the Cincinnati Orchestra, following your recommendation. Do you believe that the Directors of an old musical organization, such as the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, would be so naïve, to consider the recommendation of even a very influential lady in the choice of a permanent conductor? Or do you believe that your influence is so great in this country that a word from you would be enough to bring about immediate decisions? If so you are profoundly mistaken. The Trustees of the Cincinnati Orchestra were exceptionally thoughtful and serious regarding this question. I do not want to go into details now, but can tell you that the engagement of Thor Johnson had nothing to do with your recommendation.

I am writing in this direct manner because I consider it superfluous to talk to you as if you were a “spoiled child”. You are fully grown up and have to realize that you are responsible for every word you say and all of your actions, especially responsible on account of your gifts and the position you are beginning to occupy.

Think it over, and I hope you will understand the motive which dictates this letter.

Yours,

Serge Koussevitzky

Dear Serge Alexandrovich,

I have been deeply grieved all day on account of your last letter. I immediately sent you a telegram, trying to explain the misunderstanding, but I canceled it, realizing that it was not a thorough clarification. I must write you instead, because of my love for you, and my need for you to understand.

Why do these misunderstandings happen? Is there an evil element in my nature that makes me do and say immoral things? Is it that I say one thing and mean another? Or is it that communication between two people who are as close to each other is so difficult? If so, then life is too difficult; something is missing in the human constitution.

You must realize that I never meant to suggest that Thor's appointment had anything to do with my recommendation. I was simply reporting an interesting coincidence – that I had been discussing him with Mrs. Wyman a short time before. And I was so happy to hear that it had come true! But certainly not through
my
efforts.

And you know I am happy to play only what you suggest and approve in my Boston concerts. Whenever I conduct in Boston I am conducting for
you
, deep inside, and whatever I may do well is a tribute to you. My main concern is to make you proud of me, and justified in all your efforts for me. So when you asked me suddenly on the phone to take off my own piece, I was surprised, and merely questioned, why? Certainly I believe in my music, or else I would not have written it – not on a level with Beethoven and Bartók, naturally, but in its own smaller terms. But if you feel it is wrong to play it, I will certainly follow what you say, and gladly.

I have had a very difficult year trying to adjust myself to the conventions of my profession. The réclame means absolutely nothing to me – in fact, it only complicates further my already complicated life. Managers, agents, public charm, the terrifying sense of competition in other conductors – the whole desperate race with time would be worth nothing if it were not for the magical joy of music itself. And this joy is bound up tightly with you, who are my only “spiritus genitor”. That is why I become so depressed when misunderstandings come between us.

Forgive me, and

Believe me,

Leonard