The Leonard Bernstein Letters

by Leonard Bernstein

  Someone named Ullman (Abe, I believe) at Schirmer's keeps calling me for house seats and telling me apocryphal news of sheet music sales and forthcoming recordings. So far, only one has been out on the market: Jill Corey singing “I Feel Pretty” […]

  Rosemary Clooney has recorded “Tonight”, but I haven't heard it yet. So has Vera Lynn, an English thrush, as we say in Variety. Sammy Davis wants to do “Cool”, “Something's Coming” and “Tonight”, but no action yet. Mickey Calin got a recording contract with something called Teen-o-Rama Records (they told him that he'd get his picture in all the teenage fan magazines, so he signed) and is recording “Cool” tomorrow. (He's also gotten numerous movie offers, which should be a surprise to no one.) Incidentally, Variety named the Corey version of “Pretty” as one of its weekly best bets (Best Bets, that is). Another one that week was a song by Mary (Rodgers) and Sammy Cahn called “I Love You Whoever You Are”.

  As for the cast recording, I was amazed at Goddard [Lieberson]'s efficiency and dispatch, as well as his efforts at maintaining quality. You will probably be displeased with the record for reasons stated below as well as dozens of others, but on the whole I think it's pretty good – at least, by show album standards. It was recorded simultaneously for stereophonic tape (to be released in November as the first show so recorded) and sounds much better than the record. Some of the balancing isn't all it could be, but most of the trouble we had was due to lack of time – time on the record and time in the recording studio. As we had suspected, the amount of music was way overlong. Someone had goofed on the pre-recording timing, claiming that the Balcony Scene (starting with the singing) was 2:40, whereas it turned out to be 5:10. I don't have time to go into all the suggestions for remedying this, but the only one that worked was to cut out the best part – namely, the dialogue. Consequently, to our ears, the scene has been emasculated, going straight from the second chorus to the sung “Goodnight”s, with four hurried lines spoken over the bridge between. Thus the first “goodnight” has to start on the fifth instead of the second, which ruins it, because the second doesn't fit in with the harmony. It's too bad, but I assure you there was no other way out – at least, none that occurred to us. You are also likely to be disturbed by the following (I tell you these not to ruin your final three weeks before you hear them, but to soften whatever shocks you may get when you're finally back at the Osborne).

  FLASH! Hal just called to say that Carol's singing voice gave out at the top of her range, though her low notes and speaking voice remained. She's at the doctor's right now, will probably not go on tonight, but will tomorrow, if all is well. He saw Stephanie from “I Have A Love” on, says that she's okay […] Jerry wanted to fire her immediately (without giving her a chance to do a whole performance, in effect), but he's in a bad mood anyway – he started his new ballet for the City Center on Monday, and it's apparently not going well.

  Drawbacks in the recording, cont'd: A very fast tempo for the prologue, not so much to save time as to make it more interesting. Without the accompanying action, it tended toward monotony. Incidentally, we included street noises and shouts throughout the album, which works very well for the most part, though they tend to drown out the music in The Rumble. 2) Larry [Kert]'s voice on “Something's Coming” gets a little froggy in a few places and he sang the wrong rhythm for “come on, deliver”, but it was by far the best of the takes, because the feeling was right. Unfortunately, it was the next to last song recorded and he was very tired, having been at the session for nine hours. His best is “Maria”, which was the first number he recorded. 3) Frank Green took Larry's part in The Rumble (shouting “Riff, don't!”) and came in about ten bars too late – just before the stabbing – but the orchestra played it so well, that we didn't try another take (it was already the third). Also, they forgot to blow the police whistle at the climax. (By the way, the orchestra was increased to 37 men for the recording.) 4) “America” and “I Feel Pretty” don't sound any better on the record than they do on the stage. 5) A trumpet player goofed badly on the change of key in the final procession. Oddly enough, nobody heard it until it was too late. I was out getting five minutes' sleep during it (I also slept during “America”, since the session lasted from 10 a.m. to 1 a.m.). There will be a hundred other subtle and unsubtle goofs that will probably anger you, but the general reaction to the record so far (it came out last Friday – first order being 46,000 copies – is that good?) has been wonderful. Variety raved, and Douglas Watt in the News gave it a good notice (where he objected to anything, it was to the material, not the recording). The singers were not at their best, Lenny, but they were tired. One thing you ought to like: Goddard insisted that the final chorus of “Krupke” be played very slow with a heavy vaudeville beat. Jerry must have had conniptions. Another sidelight: Irv and Sid71 put a major cadence at the end of “I Have A Love”. I had conniptions, so it was changed back to the relative minor. I presume you didn't want it changed. I certainly didn't.

  So all is very cheery at the Winter Garden, although benefit audiences have dampened the general atmosphere. They seem to like the show, though, and word-of-mouth is good. Only in the applause for individual numbers and scenes can that intramural too-many-martinis feeling be noticed. Sometimes the hand for “America” hardly covers the scene change, and sometimes Lee [Becker] has no trouble getting the audience to stop at the end of “Krupke”. “Something's Coming” and “The Jet Song” still get weak hands, but the applause at the end of the ballet is constant – or almost so. Benefit audiences don't really get with it till the rumble, and sometimes not until “Krupke”. But, as I say, they end up liking the show, so don't worry. I haven't seen a complete performance in two weeks, so I don't know how sloppy they're getting, but Jerry's going to do some rehearsing tomorrow.

  I have much more to tell you, but I wanted to send this letter off this afternoon so that it would have a chance to slip in to you between Jewish holidays. I'll write you again, but if I don't stop now – I have to go out – I won't finish it for another four days. Love to Felicia […]

  Miss you. Come back on the seventh and no excuses. The groaning board72 is set up and I've peeked at all the letters.

  Love,

  Steve

  405. Paul Tortelier73 to Leonard Bernstein

  13 October 1957

  My dear Leonard,

  I regret not to have been able to see you after our last performance of the Schelomo [by Bloch]; I wanted so much to thank you again and to tell you “au revoir”!

  How is it going now in the formidable Frederick Mann Hall? I often think of you and Isaac [Stern] after the dreamlike days in Israel that we love.

  With my son Pascal (10 years old) we are going to hear [Arthur] Rubinstein tomorrow night in his Paris recital; that will be a great joy to hear him again and – perhaps – to talk few minutes with him after the concert.

  Well, I must take the coach to the airport now and consequently must leave you quicker than I would like.

  My love to Isaac.

  Mes hommages à votre charmante femme avec la reconnaissance et amitié de votre

  Paul Tortelier

  P.S. Also my best remembrance to the orchestra if it is not asking too much.

  406. Leonard Bernstein to Aaron Copland

  16 November 1957

  Dear A,

  I tried valiantly to call on your birthday, but no soap. Also yesterday, idem. So, per forza, a letter – Happy birthday. Just got back from Izzyland and London, and first thought was – 14 November: there's something terribly familiar about that. Then I realized it was my debut date in 1943, and your birthday (in 1938). (Do you realize that next year on your birthday it will be 20 – twenty – XX – Twenty – vingt years we know each other?!!)

  And then I realized that I've missed you very much –

  As I say, happy birthday

  & love

  Lenny

  407. Lukas Foss to Leonard Bernstein

  University of California, Los Angel
es, CA

  22 November 1957

  Dear Lenny,

  Now that it is official let me again congratulate you and New York and music in America. All I can say is I shall be much more homesick than ever for New York.

  My own life almost took a turn which would have made it look a little more like yours (or, let us say, like a provincial version of yours). Thor Johnson is leaving Cincinnati and I was offered his job. Cincinnati is not like New York, but it compares to my present UCLA orchestra much like NY compares to Cincinnati. In fact it would feel heavenly to have a real orchestra for a change. Having had considerable repertoire experience over the last 5 years, I was tempted, but finally decided against it. They demanded that I conduct 80 concerts in 28 weeks including pops, junior high, neighborhood concerts, tours etc. Aaron thought I should do it for 2 years – almost changed my mind. I wonder what you would have advised. Felt like giving you a ring, then felt silly. Now the dice have fallen. I am staying here.

  I've got a new piece to play for you when I come in January. All my love to Felicia and you, from both of us –

  And again: Congrats

  Lukas

  408. Leonard Bernstein to Goddard Lieberson

  21 November 1957

  Dear Goddard,

  My thanks to you are so overdue by now that your beautiful gift-plant makes it imperative that I rise from my bed of pain to thank you. You did a wonderful job on the W[est] S[ide] S[tory] album. It must have been a hectic session, from all I hear, with split-second decisions to be made all the time – and you did a heroic job.

  As to the plant – it is lovely, & we thank you & Brigitte with great warmth.

  As to the bed of pain, I'm going to the hospital tomorrow for some check-ups on this ridiculous back of mine, as well as some enforced sleep. S-L-E-E-P, glorious word.

  Love, Lenny

  409. Joshua Logan74 to Leonard Bernstein

  22 November 1957

  Dear Leonard,

  West Side Story is one of the most moving events of my theatergoing experience. Your music is such a part of the whole I can't find out where it began or ended. I was just involved & became the slave of all of you from the moment the curtain went up. Thanks for giving us all such a beautiful experience.

  Also congratulations on your new job with the Philharmonic.

  Best always,

  Josh

  1 It is worth noting that Laurents wrote this letter more than a month before the meeting between Laurents and Bernstein when they discussed the idea of warring gangs of Puerto Rican and white American teenagers.

  2 Nothing seems to have come of this idea, but Miller writes at length about his observations of gang warfare in Brooklyn during the summer of 1955 in his autobiography Timebends (1987), pp. 360–9.

  3 East Side Story was one of the several titles for what became West Side Story. For years the collaborators called it simply Romeo. One short-lived early title was Operation Capulet (see Letter 279). A much later title, announced in the press as late as June 1957, was Gangway! – an idea that was quickly (and mercifully) abandoned.

  4 This undated letter urges Bernstein to go out to Hollywood (where Laurents, Robbins, and Bernstein all worked at various times in 1955) in order to make progress on West Side Story. It's probable that this letter was written before the meeting between Bernstein and Laurents on 25 August 1955 (when Robbins was in New York). But it's also possible – from Laurents' reference to “all the preliminary work that we've all talked about” – that he wrote the letter after the meeting to request a week's visit from Bernstein to consolidate ideas already discussed, especially as Robbins arrived in Hollywood in mid-September to work on the film of The King and I (he was clearly in California when Laurents wrote this letter). The meeting on 25 August in Beverly Hills was described by Bernstein: “Had a fine long session with Arthur today, by the pool. (He's here for a movie; I'm conducting at the Hollywood Bowl.) We're fired again by the Romeo notion; only now we have abandoned the whole Jewish–Catholic premise as not very fresh, and have come up with what I think is going to be it: two teen-age gangs as the warring factions, one of them newly-arrived Puerto Ricans, the other self-styled ‘Americans.’ Suddenly it all springs to life. I hear rhythms and pulses, and – most of all – I can sort of feel the form” (Bernstein 1957, p. 47). However, Laurents had already raised this idea a month earlier, in his letter to Bernstein of 19 July 1955 (Letter 359). The eventual outcome was the radically altered outline that introduced the idea of conflict between white and Puerto Rican gangs (printed in Appendix One) to which Robbins responded on 18 October 1955 (Letter 362).

  5 Bells Are Ringing.

  6 Comden and Green were tentatively considered for West Side Story, and during September 1955 they were apparently contemplating taking it on; they were unable to do so because of existing Hollywood commitments. By October 1955, Stephen Sondheim had joined the show's creative team to write the lyrics.

  7 Jack Gottlieb (1930–2011), American composer who began work as Bernstein's musical assistant in 1958 and subsequently became publications director of Amberson Enterprises, Bernstein's publishing company.

  8 In 1954, Kenneth Gaburo and James Dalgliesh were joint winners of the ninth annual George Gershwin Memorial Contest (organized by the B'nai B'rith) for the best orchestral composition by a young American composer.

  9 The outline by Arthur Laurents and Bernstein (see Appendix One) and Robbins' detailed reply in this letter are documents of great importance in the genesis of West Side Story. Laurents and Bernstein had evolved the new outline after discussing the project in California in August 1955. Newspaper reports of recent gang violence made them rethink the dramatic outline of a show on which progress had been virtually stalled since Robbins had first proposed the idea in January 1949. Bernstein has written marginal annotations on Robbins' letter that reveal some of his reaction to Robbins' criticisms. These are described in the notes that follow.

  10 Marginal note by Bernstein: “good points.”

  11 Marginal note by Bernstein: “I thought it was sudden.”

  12 Marginal note by Bernstein: “True, but maybe a slightly diff[erent] angle.”

  13 Marginal note by Bernstein: “How much older?”

  14 Marginal note by Bernstein: “Good point. Both things can happen.”

  15 Marginal note by Bernstein: “Not necessarily bad – but avoid cliché!”

  16 Marginal note by Bernstein: “True. But there are 2 scenes, so how to achieve the flow like one scene?”

  17 Marginal note by Bernstein: “?”

  18 Marginal note by Bernstein: “Don't see any incompatibility here.”

  19 Marginal note by Bernstein: “Why not?”

  20 Marginal note by Bernstein: “True. Maybe he doesn't know – but we know he's doomed.”

  21 Marginal note by Bernstein (with a line beside the whole paragraph): “All true.”

  22 Marginal note by Bernstein: “Right.”

  23 Lillian Hellman's adaptation of Jean Anouilh's The Lark, for which Bernstein wrote the incidental music.

  24 According to Jack Gottlieb's note in the score of Bernstein's Missa Brevis, it was Robert Shaw who suggested this idea when he attended a performance. In 1988, to mark Shaw's retirement as Music Director of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, Bernstein produced the “short Mass” that he had contemplated more than thirty years earlier. See also Letter 365.

  25 Eddie Albert played Reuben in the original production of Blitzstein's Reuben Reuben.

  26 Subtitled an “urban folk opera,” Reuben Reuben opened in Boston on 10 October 1955 and closed quickly, before reaching Broadway. Blitzstein was still reeling from the disappointment when he wrote this letter.

  27 Blitzstein never forgave Robbins for naming names when he testified to the HUAC.

  28 This is a fascinating comment; Bernstein's own correspondence contains no remarks about working with Robbins after his HUAC performance, but it would be surprising if Bernstein and Arthur Laurents had
not been angered and disappointed by Robbins' conduct. And yet, only a few months before Blitzstein sent this letter, Bernstein and Laurents had got back to serious work on West Side Story, and brought Stephen Sondheim into the creative team.

  29 Blitzstein was her godfather.

  30 This was not a lasting rift. As Eric Gordon put it, “Lenny and Felicia Bernstein remained loyal to Marc. They had already made their first child, Jamie, Marc's godchild. Their son Alexander's name is the male form of Alexandra from Regina. And their third child they named for Marc's heroine in Reuben Reuben – Nina” (Gordon 1989, p. 405).

  31 In December 1956, Diamond played as a violinist in the pit orchestra for Bernstein's Candide, though this much-needed paying engagement was interrupted when he was subpoenaed by the HUAC. There's at least one irony in the timing of Diamond's subpoena: Candide was partly intended by Hellman and Bernstein as a polemic against HUAC and Joseph McCarthy's Senate hearings.

  32 Richard Rodgers (1902–79), American composer, best known for his collaborations with Lorenz Hart and Oscar Hammerstein. These creative partnerships resulted in more than thirty Broadway musicals, including several established classics of the American musical theatre.

  33 The episode of Omnibus referred to by Rodgers is “The American Musical Comedy,” first broadcast on 7 October 1956.

  34 Harry Farbman was Associate Conductor of the St Louis Symphony Orchestra.

  35 Vladimir Golschmann was the orchestra's Music Director.