The Leonard Bernstein Letters
Page 28
Much love,
L
211. Aaron Copland to Leonard Bernstein
Limestone Road, Ridgefield, CT
Tuesday [?4 December 1945]
Muy querido chatito,
Here is your “slight letter”. It's being written from the top of a bleak looking ridge on which sits perched a little house in which sits writing little me to you. I've been here since Sunday. Whether I stay the winter or not depends on whether I can get old Posh34 up and down the garage without falling off the cliff. The main assets to the house are 1) a nice work room with Steinway grand and 2) a lovely view out the Steinway window. But the ground is snow covered and makes me think longingly of Cuba.
I missed Leinsdorf's concert35 – being here – and couldn't even get the broadcast. But last week I was in Cambridge listening to Fauré for two days36 – and discussing tangled Tanglewood problems with Judd & Koussie. (Did you know that Rodzinski offered his place for sale in the Times – for $40,000? Maybe you'd like to buy it – in which case I could rent a room from you at $6 per week. Otherwise maybe I'd better write to Mrs. MacSomething Furniss for a house.) Kouss empowered me as ass't problem unraveller to invite you on the faculty – and – aside from Grimes being at his exercise, there is a good possibility – says Kouss – that he will invite you to conduct a Festival concert of your own. Maybe you'd like to dash off the text for a pageant for the Music & Culture people, which also seems to be on Kouss' mind. Well – sounds like a busy summer. (Stravinsky says maybe he'll come, but no definite answer until Jan 15.)
I've tried to imagine what the [Sinfonia] India and Salón sound like juxtaposed – but the mind rebels (Antheil in his book says I composed the Salón in the Hollywood-Franklin Hotel, which he recommended to me. How do you like that for hanging on to the skirts of fame?) Anyway St. Louis seems to have accorded the familiar L.B. triumph.
Dave O[ppenheim] came to see me. He's a sweetheart. And so are you – (but for very different reasons).
L[ove],
A
P.S. My phone no. Ridgefield 637 – Ring one three.
P.P.S. Thanks to you I'm now a member of the Baldwin family.
P.P.P.S. I'm writing a Symphony – just in case you forgot.37
212. Seymour Meyerson38 to Leonard Bernstein
Camp John T. Knight, Oakland, CA
5 December 1945
That you, Lennie!
My return to the Oakland Army Base was heralded by the collective “Did you have a good time?” and made official when everyone in our section walked me over to the PX39 for gooey ice-cream sundaes and lots of cakes.
Flying time was approximately 22 hours, with far too many waits for re-fuelling and what seemed like stupid and pointless conversations between our pilots and the Commanding Officers of the different fields. Navy goes in for a helluva lot of tradition which makes Army routine seem much more sensible simply by contrast.
At any rate, Dave [Oppenheim] and I have solved our transportation problem, and will probably return the same way. […]
The night Helen [Coates] invited me to see Der Rosenkavalier with her at the Met, we had dinner at the Damascus Gardens, a small Armenian restaurant on 32nd Street. The conversation as we ate was highly personal, and I tried to avoid a good many of her questions. The thing that continually surprised me was not how much she knew about your sex life (in itself kind of “shocking”) but how she accepted it, and sought to discover what satisfactory arrangements could be made for you in order to [be] assured that your career would not suffer. You can imagine how perplexed and embarrassed I felt, but since she was so frank I thought it was all right to listen, and also to see just how far her knowledge ran. The greatest shock for her was the idea that you would one day marry and have a family. The slightest mention of this idea caused her to tremble. I was very much caught by the look in her eyes, that expression which inferred an end to her way of life with you, should some “other” woman enter your life. Maybe that's why she can afford to be so tolerant towards your perversity?
Seeing David this coming Saturday. Do you think February will really come?
Much love,
Seymour
213. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim
1239 Broadway, New York, NY
postmark 18 December 1945
Dovidl,
Nu? The last I heard was from Seymour – that he was in doubt as to whether you ever reached camp by 8:00 a.m. after your bout with a stray damozel in a S.F. apartment. Watch it, baby: no point in fucking up your chances for immediate discharge. And I hear you are now being groomed for Wall Street.
I am collapsed at the moment with a tough concert tonight,40 and very little energy. Christmas will be nothing but sleep, eat and you know. My sun lamp helps somewhat.
St. Louis was a joy. What a La Mer! And an immaculate 5th Brandenburg.
Great love to you.
Come back.
L
214. Leonard Bernstein to Renée Longy Miquelle
Ridgefield, CT
postmark 31 December 1945
Dear Rélami,
Your invitation came just a little bit too late for me to change my commitments. Funny you should have asked me and Aaron, because here I am at his sweet snowbound little country house, one hour from New York, and without that slightest indication that New York exists even one hundred miles from here. Anyway it was sweet as hell of you to ask us, and I hope you have a real good rest. To say nothing of a very happy and prosperous Nouvelle Année.
What do you think of our friend Hendl?41 Were you there by any chance? I was out of town conducting, unfortunately, and missed the excitement, but I'm sure it was swell.
When does Claude get back?
Aaron sends his best, and I my love.
Spook
215. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim
1239 Broadway, New York, NY
postmark 19 January 1946
Dear Davrelink,
There's a limit to this silence routine. You are supposed to be out, you know. And then comes word from Seymour [Meyerson] that you're very much in, and that he's just seen you in your new layout. What, may I ask, is giving? What is the Hotel Vanderbilt?42 Was your letter written from there implying that you lived there? Are you still dully employed in financeering? Of course I wouldn't dream of anyone else's playing the Klarinetten piece – but I've had to assign it tentatively to Hoffman, since you said you'd be out in January and here it is almost February. Tell all, and very quickly since time wastes fast, and anyway I miss hearing from you.
Your letter was wonderful but so N!43 I couldn't answer sooner because I've been tearing around the globe again – but now it's serious. Let me know.
I've been in Rochester a second time (playing the piano too) and seeing no sign of orchestral resentment. Who told you that anyway? They love you there, and your licorice44 teacher even expected you might play Ea on our tour in March. On the other hand Bill Schuman loved you too. (You really impressed him, you charm-monger.) But Juilliard is overcrowded to the bursting point. What will you do? Tell all, my love.
Love, my love,
L
I leave Wednesday for Cincinnati, so write immediately. My love to Seymour & San Fran.
216. Jerome Robbins to Leonard Bernstein
Late Monday night [21 January 1946]45
Len,
It was a really wonderful concert tonight. I'd never heard you really play anything but Fancy and Town – & the Bach was quite an exciting experience. Then the Stravinsky was new to me – & God! What an experience. 3 Bravos for that alone. I rode along on the Don Juan nicely anticipating the Variations – & then I sat & chuckled & gurgled & beamed & nodded & emphasized & had a wonderful time. They sounded marvelously – & the only complaint was a little something on the encore of Harold's dance, trying to picture him keeping up with it. But it sounded wonderfully unsaddled by dancers.
So thank you for a very special evening of music. Good luck & continuous success.
Jerry
217. Joseph Szigeti to Leonard Bernstein
The King Cotton [Hotel], Greensboro, NC
2 February 1946
Dear Lennie,
I was so sorry not to have been able to call you last week but the only time I had was on the day of your Symphonie de Psaumes and I didn't want to bother you then! I listened in on Monday and was greatly impressed by your performance.
As to the order of the two Bartók pieces I know it would be more orthodox to play Portrait and then Rhapsody but I have the inescapable feeling that the reverse order would be more right! The sturdy, “typical” Bartók first and then this unexpected “horizontal” piece … Especially as it is in a way a “memorial”, the transcendent ending of Portrait seems more appropriate than the brusque (and not very effective) ending of Rhapsody.
In haste, all good things to you!
Yours ever,
Jóska
218. Leonard Bernstein to Carlos Moseley46
1239 Broadway, New York, NY
23 February 1946
Dear Carlos,
This Prague thing is very exciting indeed: and if I guess correctly, my profound gratitude is due one Moseley.
The programs have been tentatively settled, & cabled to Prague, as follows:
I.
Schuman – Am. Fest. Overture
Harris – Symph. #3
Gershwin – Rhapsody (Eugene List)
——
Me – Jeremiah Symph.
II.
Randall Thompson – Symph. #2
——
pseudo-Czech group:
Dvořák – Husitska Overture
Bartók – Rhapsody #1, Portrait in D – Szigeti
——
Barber – Essay #1
Copland – El Saloon
I think they're swell programs, and I hope you agree. Will we see each other soon?
When do I go in order to rehearse sufficiently?
Are new injections required?
Do send me details.
Affectionately,
Lenny Bernstein
219. Paul Feigay47 to Leonard Bernstein
137–145 West 48th Street, New York, NY
17 April 1946
Dear Mr. Bernstein,
As you know the business of On The Town on the road has been very disappointing everywhere in spite of the terrific notices. Up to date we have personally lost over $50,000.00, in getting the show ready for the road and the losses on the road. The first week in Chicago the loss was $6,500.00, and then last week we lost $1,600.00, and that was due to the fact that we did not charge off any but cash bills.
We must appeal to you for help. Full royalties have been paid with the exception of the last few weeks in New York. We ask that royalties be waived retroactive to the opening of the run in Chicago and until such time as we start again operating at a profit and royalties should be paid out of each week's profit up until such payments equal 80% of the royalties due.
Unless we can secure urgent and immediate cooperation from all persons receiving royalties we will be forced to close the run in Chicago immediately, regardless of the fact that business is on the upswing there.
A copy of this has been sent to each person receiving royalties. Please sign the enclosed letter under “agreed to” and return it to me as soon as possible.
Very truly yours,
Paul Feigay
220. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim
Orly Field Airport, Paris, France
postmark 7 May 1946
Dearest Dave (Dearer than Crockett, Diamond, Jones, the King, Glazer),48
At this very moment life is a horror. I developed a stiff neck and a stinking cold during my first day in Paris. It would have disappeared, but there's no rest. One spends most of one's days in ATC offices, bureaus, Embassies, and most of one's nights driving to and from the airports. The flying racket is grand, but always involves the wrong times of day.
All this notwithstanding, the city is so fantastically beautiful that one cannot but be excited. The French are very depressed, and as they say here, on vive très mal. But my flight to Prague has just been called – so bless you & all my love,
L
221. Leonard Bernstein to Helen Coates
Prague, Czechoslovakia
9 May 1946
Dear Helen,
Things are beginning to pick up. Thank God! So far all the wonderful things Europe holds have offered themselves to me as dim visions, due to the fact that I caught a monstrous cold in Paris on my very first day there, and it's still with me. I've had horrible stiff muscles and aches, and sinus blowups. But now it begins to abate, and I'm beginning to be able to receive all this fabulous wonder.
This is the greatest day in Czech history. As you remember one year ago on May 5th, with Patton's army 20 miles away and the Russians at the East door, the people of Prague made a revolution against the Nazis. They just couldn't wait. The next day they were liberated by the Red Army. So this whole week is festival – the first anniversary of liberty. And are they celebrating, as no American would ever dare to do. Outside in the streets the whole town is dancing – to miked-up records of boogie-woogie and Strauss waltzes! People have come from all the provinces – Moravia, Slovakia – in their heavenly national peasant costumes, and the gaiety is beyond description. This morning there was a great parade and celebration in the huge Masaryk stadium, where generals of all the Allies spoke, including the great Konev, McNarney, and chiefs of staff from France, England, Yugoslavia, etc. It was a super-colossal demonstration, with tanks, planes, and the works. Last night there were fireworks on the Moldau, and up in the great Hradčany Castle. It is the only place on earth to be this week.
Of course, the people look on the Russians as their liberators, but all the Hearst talk of the Red Terror here and the iron grip of Russia is nonsense.49 The Czechs are free as much as men can be, with joy in their reconstruction. It is rather in Paris where the spirit is way down, where the elections bore no fruit, where everyone is pessimistic and wretched (I think probably as much from guilt at their self-defeat as from la vie dure). The Czechs are happy and look to the future. They are the sweetest people on earth, and I'm going to have a marvelous week.
My love goes to everyone – please give it to them, and let this letter go to them all. There's so little time to write. More later.
Love,
L
222. Leonard Bernstein to Shirley Bernstein
Hyde Park Hotel, London, England
9 June 1946
Darling,
It's all a mess. I didn't want to go to England. The plane trip was ghastly and a full day overdue, always stopping to fix the foolish crate. The hotel is dreary beyond description. The food is inedible, what there is of it. The English are very down, except for Victory Day (yesterday) when 10,000,000 people went berserk in London. In an ogrish way. (Why do I always hit the parades?)
And worst of all, I'm stuck with horrible programs. I can't fix them – it's too late. All Ford-Hour stuff, masses of Wagner excerpts, with and without Marjorie Lawrence, and waltzes & polonaises by the score. The one help is Appalachian Spring. What a dream of a piece.
I have rarely felt so lonely. I don't really know why, but I react to everything with big, soggy depressions. And H[elen] C[oates] is no help there. How I regret not bringing you instead.
Are you a stage-manager yet? What is the state of your maidenhood? A letter from you would help a lot. Soon, please.
First rehearsal tomorrow morning. First concert the day after. (Jeremiah, of course, is out.) If I hold up through this I'll be extremely grateful. My love to all around. And many kisses to you. I miss you terribly.
L
Don't forget to phone my best to the family.
223. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim
Hyde Park Hotel, London, England
postmark 14 June 1946
To the Royal Husbandman,
Build
er of the House,
Decorator of the interior,
Defender of the Faith:
GREETING.
This is the dullest yet. Of course, I hit Victory Day again, with parades, illuminations (fireworks to us), and 10,000,000 mad folk releasing their repressions in a “frightfully gay” holiday. Now it's over, and it's still dull. Crowds hanging around Buckingham Palace, waiting for Royalty to appear. The sun came out for twenty minutes today, and everyone is grateful.
I'm not happy. The programs are a mess, and there's nothing I can do to change them. I'm tired, usually depressed, and have little if any clarity of mind. I sleep when I have nothing pressing, and try to ignore the dreariness of this hotel and all of London.
I envy you in the excitement of building up your new home. Let me hear about it. This was the time you were going to write, remember?
All my love,
Lenny
224. David Oppenheim to Leonard Bernstein
Tuesday a.m., Intermission
[June 1946]
Lenushka,
This is the time I did write. Remember!
The news here is good. We have had much success in your absence. Felicia [Montealegre] has a lead role in Swan Song, the Ben Hecht–C. MacArthur affair and seems to be doing well in it considering she's a nervophysical wreck and can't swallow food any more, what with 3 days notice on her role. But H[elen] Hayes came up to her dressing room to tell her how much she liked her (I was there) and how much she liked her clothes – so I guess she will live on that for a while. I didn't even know it was Hayes until she had gone. She calls herself Mrs. MacArthur.50 Who am I to know? She's not a girl any more.
As for your favorite schizophrenic (looks wrong) he has played for Laszlo H[alasz]51 & will continue to do so for the duration of next season. I signed something or other Monday. You must have primed Fallioni like crazy. He welcomed me into his office like a lost brother–old sweetheart combined – gave me the parts to about seven operas – told me to call him “when ready & if I needed advice.”