The Leonard Bernstein Letters (8 page)

Dear Leonard,

What a letter! What an “outburst”! Hwat a boy! It completely spoiled my breakfast. But it couldn't spoil the weather, so thank Marx for that. The sun has been shining in a way to defy all wars and dictators, and there's nothing to be done about it.

That “female” you tell of [Cara Verson]. I've never seen her, but I had reports of her at a time when she played the
Variations
here, which I studiously avoided attending. I see that did no good, since she continues to “play” them. But what can a poor composer do? I know of know way of stopping her once the piece is published, do you? Think what people do to the three B's etc. and nothing can be done about
that
. As for your general “disappointment” in Art, Man and Life I can only advise perspective, perspective, and yet more perspective. This is only 1938. Man has a long time to go. Art is quite young. Life has its own dialectic. Aren't you always curious to see what tomorrow will bring?

Of course, I understand exactly how you feel. At 21, in Paris, with Dada thumbing its nose at art, I had a spell of extreme disgust with all things human. What's the use – it can't last, and it didn't last. The next day comes, there are jobs to do, problems to solve, and one gets gradually inured to things. At my advanced age (37) I can't even take a letter like yours completely seriously. But I'm glad you wrote it, if only to let off steam. Write some more!

Now it's definite that I'm not due to be up in Boston. I've been bought off with the promise of a performance at the coming Berkshire Festival. (Don't mention this around, will you.) I'm vaguely thinking of a trip to England in May. Sir Adrian Boult is to conduct my
Salón México
at the I.S.C.M. Festival in June, and previously on the BBC on April 20th; also here when he conducts the NBC orchestra in May. I hope you're coming to New York soon. I always enjoy seeing you.

Always,

Aaron

Dear Leonard,

I've come out to Princeton for a few weeks to try to finish that book
²³
by June. It's lovely here – reminds me of my spring in Cambridge (unfortunately Cambridge is 5 hrs from N.Y. and this only 1 hr.).

I got your Minn[eapolis] card. Wish I could hear more about your trip.

I had a letter from the WPA
²⁴
orchestra in Boston the other day saying they had programmed my
Dance Symphony
for Apr 26 at Sanders Theatre. If you have time to go will you write me your impressions of the performance? And send me any reviews that appear? (Don't forget – it's an early work!)

How are you in general? Is Bennington decided upon? I haven't seen Norman Lloyd
²⁵
since I talked with Davis, but I'll mention you to him when I do.

Any chance of your being at the Berkshire Fest. this year? I'm vaguely tempted to go. By the way, Adrian Boult is supposedly broadcasting my Mexican piece on May 14th over NBC at 10 p.m.

Remember me to Davis,

Yours,

Aaron

My dear, dear boy,

Yes, you are right to be worried about me. I couldn't answer your first letter; you were asking me too much. If you remember, you wished to know more about me; but I think it is better that you look at me as you wish to – put at me your own imagination, your ideal. Who knows? – otherwise you would be disappointed. And, dear boy, I need your appreciation, your respect, your love! It is of great importance in my life. I should be happy to see you again before I leave. I am beginning the rehearsals in New York the 24th. The concert is the 28th of May, and I leave the 8th of June. May I ask a small picture of you to be my companion on my Europe trip?

With affection,

D. Mitropoulos

Dearest friend,

Thank you! I was so unhappy this last time! But now everything is again all right. I was so stupid to think that you didn't care so much about me. Wasn't I stupid?

Your picture is so good, I like it, God bless you!

You see, my dear boy, sometimes I am so sad, and I need so few, just a little to be happy, and this little sometimes nobody gives me, it seems to avoid me.

Can you imagine for a moment, I thought I lost your love, and then, I was asked me, perhaps I am not right to ask anything, to expect anything, from anybody, that my destiny is to be alone with myself and my art.

But you my dear friend, tell me, it is not so, I am something for you, yes … don't forget me.

Goodbye dear,

Dimitri

Dear Aaron,

It's going to be hard to keep this from being a fan letter. The concert was gorgeous – even the Dvořák.
²⁶
I still don't sleep much from the pounding of:

in my head.
²⁷
In any event, it's a secure feeling to know we have a master in America. I mean that too (don't pooh-pooh). I sat aghast at the solid sureness of that construction of yours. Timed to perfection. Not an extra beat. Just long enough for its material. Orchestral handling plus. Invention superb. And yet, with all that technique, it was a perfect rollercoaster ride. And it's not the exhaustible kind of cleverness (like Françaix, or his ilk).

I want seriously to have the chance to study with you soon. My heart's in it. Never have I come across anyone capable of such immediate absorption of musical material, possessing at the same time a fine critical sense
with
the ability to put that criticism into words successfully. This is not rot. The little demonstration you gave with those early things of mine proved it to me conclusively.

Saw the Group Theatre bunch today and they all asked for and about you. [Clifford] Odets,
²⁸
true to form, thinks the
Salón México
“light”, also Mozart except
the G minor Symphony. That angers me terrifically. I wish these people could see that a composer is just as
serious
when he writes a work, even if the piece is not defeatist (that Worker word again) and Weltschmerzy and misanthropic and long. Light piece, indeed. I tremble when I think of producing something like the
Salón
.

Casting is a wretched business.
²⁹
It's slow but sure. And so tiring. (What word from the Marc [Blitzstein]?) But I think we'll have a fine show.

Let me hear soon. As Dame Fortune said to you backstage last Saturday night, “On to bigger & nobler things.”

Always,

Lenny

P.S. I hope you're really haunted by:

Maybe not
convincing
, but maybe
haunting
.

Dear Lenny,

Of course you're crazy! I'm sorry if you felt a “strained feeling” that Saturday. The moral being – you mustn't be so sensitive. I remember Victor [Kraft] was acting strangely and I was embarrassed at not being able to invite you to the ballet
³⁰
– but that's nothing to have “omens” about. Anyhow – remember this – I feel much too friendly and sympathetic to you for anything I can possibly imagine making our relations “strained”.

As a peace offering, I'm sending you a copy of the
Second Hurricane
³¹
which is just out.

Affectionately,

Aaron

Dear Aaron,

In the midst of ten million other things I'm writing a thesis for honors. I think it's interesting – certainly it is potentially interesting. The subject is Nationalism in American music – presumably a nonentity but on the whole a vital problem. We've talked about it once or twice. You said, “don't worry – just write it – it will come out American.”

The thesis tries to show how the stuff that the old boys turned out (Chadwick, Converse, Shepherd, Gilbert, MacD[owell], Cadman etc.) failed utterly to develop an American style or school or music at all, because their material (Negro, American Indian, etc.) was not common – the old problem of America the melting pot. Having ruthlessly revealed the invalidity of an Indian tune surrounded by Teutonic development, etc., I will try to show that there is something American in the newer music, which relies not on folk material, but on a native spirit (like your music, and maybe Harris’ & Sessions’ – I don't know), or which relies on a new American form, like Blitzstein's. Whether this is tenable or not, it is my thesis and I'm sticking to it.

Now how to go about it? It means going through recent American things, finding those that sound, for some reason, American, and translate that American sound into musical terms. I feel convinced that there is such a thing, or else why is it that the
Variations
sound fresh and vital and not stale and European and dry?

This is where you can help, if you would. What music of what other composers in America would support my point, and where can I get hold of it? Would the music of Harris? or Ives? or Schuman? or Piston? or [Nicolai] Berezowsky? You see, I know and hear so little American stuff. This is my great opportunity to get to know it well, and find out something about it. I feel more and more that there's something to all this, and that it can be told in terms. I'll be infinitely thankful for any suggestions.

Again, thousands thanks for the
Second Hurricane
– it's just swell.

Always,

Lenny

It's wonderful, Ken, the way you lack enthusiasm when it's more or less expected of you. Hello. A dull thud – that's the way your letter read. 500th crossing, and all that – trip is really as can be expected.

But it was very good to hear from you, all wrapped up in your mauve-lined Parisian envelope. […]

Everything is almost O.K. You ask after the
Advocate
³³
competition – I won. I am now proud possessor of all manner of records. As for the
Birds
– I won that too, and am busy as a bee on the composition and orchestration thereof. As for courses, I am fuguing and advance orchestrating and thesising, and another half next half (what am I saying). [Tillman] Merritt hates me, but Mother loves me. [Walter] Piston doubts me, but Copland encourages me. I hate the Harvard Music Department. You can quote that. You can even print it if you want. I hate it because it is stupid & highschoolish and “disciplinary” and prim and foolish and academic and stolid and fussy. I want to go home.
³⁴
[…]

Toujours –

Bernstein

Dear Lenny,

I know I'm late in answering but I've been swamped with things to do and your letter asked so many questions!

Aren't you coming down to N.Y. during Christmas holydays? And since it would be so much better to do this
viva voce
than by letter, could it wait till then for my grandfatherly advice?

You sound as if you were very much on the right track anyhow both as to ideas and composers’ names. Don't make the mistake of thinking that
just
because a Gilbert used Negro material, there was therefore nothing American about it. There's always the chance it might have an “American” quality despite its material. Also, don't try to prove
too
much. Composing in this country is still pretty young no matter how you look at it.

Good luck and let's hear if you're coming down.

Consider yourself missed.

A.