The Leonard Bernstein Letters
Page 76
592. Oliver Smith to Leonard Bernstein
70 Willow Street, Brooklyn, NY
23 July 1979
Dearest Lenny,
Yesterday I had the enormous pleasure of hearing you conduct at Tanglewood.3 You were simply wonderful. I felt so proud of you. I made a darting trip up to “welcome” you back along with the enthusiastic thousands to whom you bring inspiration and joy and so much of your innermost being. Unfortunately I had to rush back and didn't have the opportunity to go back stage, see those eyes open very wide with delight and give you a great hug. I do so now.
You were simply magnificent. The Haydn Mass in B flat was so joyous I was ready to embrace the church, something I am sure would horrify you. I heard the chorus rehearsing as I came on the grounds, only one half hour before the performance! I thought: just like Lenny.
I was a little apprehensive about the Shostakovich on such a steaming afternoon. You made it absolutely riveting, with all its prolix fascination and strangeness as well as introspective qualities. I was as thrilled as the audience and found a joyous release in joining in the ovation.
It is wonderful we are finally again doing West Side Story.4 It is my favorite theatrical effort. This week I take off to England for a few weeks to rest up for the battles to follow, to which I am looking forward.
Meanwhile I send you my love and a tender embrace of thanks.
Oliver
P.S. I am very sorry to miss the Mahler 9th.5 It is something very special to you and your interpretation is the greatest. I shall never forget that great performance in Vienna several years ago at the Musikverein.
Love,
O
593. Leonard Bernstein on Aaron Copland
Tribute delivered at the Kennedy Center Honors, Washington, D.C.6
2 December 1979
Last month Aaron Copland celebrated his 79th birthday, out of which evolved a plethora of toasts, lunches, speeches, tributes and honors, of which tonight's honor is certainly the grandest. But if all this happens when he is 79, what volcanoes will erupt when he hits 80 a year from now? I can't begin to imagine; but whatever monster celebrations, fireworks and celebrations may take place, they will never suffice to honor in proper degree this great gentleman of American music. Never have we had a composer of his superb lyric and symphonic quality who has been personally so admired, respected and – let's say it – loved by so many people as Aaron. I speak not only of the music but also of the man. Ask anyone who knows him: “What is Aaron like?” And they will surely respond by describing the Copland grin, the Copland giggle, the Copland wit and warmth, and width of his embrace.
He has always had time for everyone – especially the young (that is the mark of a great man: time for people); and his unmistakeable sharp “judge-nose”, as he once described it, has always been sniffing out new talent, in whatever hamlet or continent it might be hiding, to encourage with praise, to nurture with criticism, and to help on its way to public exposure.
And yet he is also the most moderate, balanced, objective, sane and non-melodramatic man I have ever known. When he exaggerates, it's to make us laugh; when he understates, it's to point up an irony. Everything else is plain truth – “plain” is one of his favorite words – and “truth” is the very essence of the man.
All of these qualities – the generosity, the wit, the quirkiness, the compassion and tenderness and plainness – all of these inhabit his music with a mirror-like truth. But there are other qualities in the music which reflect aspects of the man he never allows us to see. The music can have an extraordinary grandeur, an exquisite delicacy, a prophetic severity, a ferocious rage, a sharp bite, a prickly snap, a mystical suspension, a wounding stab, an agonizing howl – none of which corresponds with the Aaron we loving friends know – but comes from some deep, mysterious place he never reveals to us except in his music.
I have known Aaron intimately for 42 years, and I have only once seen him in a state of anger. Once. And I recall a luncheon date in which he was uncharacteristically quiet, mentioning only that he had a headache. I learned much later that day that his father had died on the previous night. And once – again only once – have I seen him weep when, at a Bette Davis movie that caused me to oo and ah and marvel and groan “NO, NO, NO” at the unbearable climax (I am always very vocal at the end of Bette Davis movies), he turned to me, his cheeks awash with tears, and sobbed, “Can't you shut up?”
Now usually men of such restraint and moderation, who also harbor such tumultuous inner passions and rages, are sick men, psychotics who are prone to unpredictable and irrational explosions. Not so Aaron. The unpredictability is all in the music, which is why that music is so constantly fresh and surprising, as is the music of Beethoven. The man himself is sanity itself – and that is why the first moment I met him – on his 37th birthday – I trust[ed] him instantly and relied completely on his judgment as gospel and have done so ever since. It is my honor to present him to you, my first friend in New York, my master, my idol, my sage, my shrink, the closest thing to a composition teacher I ever had, my guide, my counselor, my elder brother, my beloved friend – Aaron Copland.
Leonard Bernstein
30 November 1979
594. Aaron Copland to Leonard Bernstein
Peeskill, NY
4 December 1979
Dear Lensk,
How to thank you for that splendiferous talk at the Kennedy Center Sunday night. (Not to mention the special effort needed to be in 2 cities almost simultaneously!)
And everyone around me seemed to be enjoying the talk as much as I did (including Mrs. Carter,7 who was seated next to me).
It was truly a night to be remembered – thanks a million!
Love,
A
595. Francis Ford Coppola8 to Leonard Bernstein
The Sentinel Building, 916 Kearney Street, San Francisco, CA
7 March 1980
My most respected Maestro Bernstein,
Certainly the telephone conversation that my assistant Tess related to me broke my heart. The confusion that comes when four different artists attempt to assemble a collaboration; the complexity of each individual's time, place and temperament – the more difficult areas of lawyers, agents and deals – is the reason very often that desirable collaborations never happen at all.
I'm sure you can understand how hard it must be on me, who essentially must be the pivot-point for the project – and also work as writer and director, when it's quite obvious to me that my ideas are being auditioned by you, and I can plainly see that every so often those with whom I wish to collaborate are obliged to talk to their agents to see whether or not a deal has been struck.
So that, as I understand it, the collaboration hinged on whether in fact you were committed and approved the project as it had been (however vaguely) outlined by me to you, Betty [Comden] and Adolph [Green].
I didn't know I was expected to call you or that you were waiting to hear from me, as of course I had just assumed that we were all friends enough that if you or anyone wished to talk to me, you would simply call, and not stand on ceremony.
In short, as I see the entire situation, it is as follows:
My ideas and concept for this kind of musical–opera–film are too embryonic in form to really be presented to collaborators who must have something defined and specific so that they can do their work. I guess I had hoped that the discovery of this kind of unprecedented film would be made together, on a slow, arduous hit or miss kind of artistic exploration. But I realize now that this process is too difficult to put together between three different groups of artists, who are also all working on other things and have a tight schedule. I also understand, Maestro, that your own composition schedule is heartbreakingly short, and that you can ill afford to waste your time.
I have personal opinions also, about this matter, which I have never mentioned because it would have been rude to you, whom I have always admired. My opinion is that for a composer of your scale and statur
e to limit his composition, which is the flower of his work, to take a second chair to certain other of the performing arts of which others are perfectly capable, is wrong. But no one can write music like Bernstein. And Bernstein's theatrical music is as good as any that has ever been written.
And so I came to say … “Here, let me give you musical cinema. Take theatrical music to its next step, in a medium that the whole world will see and respond to.” Well, that is my dream, and I know as sure as I know anything that it is your dream too. Please bear with me – maybe we'll work more informally, over the next six months or even year.
But then when we put these sketches together, it would be a pleasure to fully collaborate with you and Adolph and Betty.
Excuse me for the ownership and the beginning of a new movie studio, Zoetrope Studio, which makes you want to say that I have gone from being an artist to a “mogul”. Zoetrope Studios will create the most modern, electronic studio in the world, and its first work will be TUCKER by Leonard Bernstein, Betty Comden and Adolph Green – who knows, maybe even Jerome Robbins, and Francis Coppola. I'd sure want to see that film.9
Maybe someday you'll say: “I didn't know he was going to be Francis Coppola”.
With sincere love,
Francis
596. Leonard Bernstein to Stephen Sondheim
16 March 1980
Dearest Steve
This Es/la10 tritone comes with warmest memories of work and play and friendship. S–L is almost a quarter of a century old, and it seems all wrong that I should not be in attendance on your glorious 50th. But I'll be down in the Caribbean with my children on that date, and will be thinking strongly and affectionately of you. More power to you and much merriment.
L = 50 = Love = Lenny
597. Stephen Sondheim to Leonard Bernstein
New York, NY
19 March 1980
Dear Lenny,
As usual, clever, appropriate, poetic and touching. Thank you for this one, and the others, and what's behind them.11
I am sorry you won't be here, but I suspect you'll have a better time anyway among the natives.
Love,
Steve
598. Jennie Bernstein to Leonard Bernstein
[August 1980]12
I remember saying, “Dear son, some day you will have it all.” Your Dad of blessed memory objected to your career out of his love for you.
You write and think young. Stay that way my dear, for many more healthy musical years.
With much love and good wishes,
Your ever loving,
Mom
599. Jerome Robbins to Leonard Bernstein
12 November 1980
Dear Lenny,
Thank you for sending me the tape and score of your latest work.13 I really like it very, very much, and I'm in love with so many of the middle movements. I'd love to do it, but I worry about it because, as you know, music tends to shrink when you add dancing to it, and the pieces themselves are so short to start with that I don't know how it would avoid resulting in broken, tiny pieces. At least, that's my reaction now. Let me know if you have any suggestions, and we'll get together. But I do love the work.
Sorry that I've only gotten to this now. I just finished the Mozart Rondo in A minor, and I like it, although like the music, it is a fairly quiet work. If you want to come see it, let me know.
All my love,
Jerry
600. Doriot Anthony Dwyer14 to Leonard Bernstein
3 Cleveland Road, Brookline, MA
25 July 1981
Dear Lenny,
Just a note to tell you, in writing, that it was an enormous pleasure you gave me this year, to play your Halil with you. It is rare one flutist plays a solo with a great conductor who is that involved in the same work. I suspected as much and the anticipation nearly tore me apart, and I loved Halil right from the start. Still it was more than that: even if it had not been your composition, I knew once you decided to perform it you were giving it your creative attention & delivery. That is what was added to make this time a magical, great adventure for me.
I hope we can work together again in some similar capacity. I don't expect, exactly. But I will keep on with this stimulus, this gift of your composition & performing with such as you & I do thank you for it – a lot!
Doriot
601. Leonard Bernstein to Karl Böhm
13 August 198115
Dear Maestro Karl,
They tell me you are now very ill, worse than our last time in Munich. Some people even imply that you feel your life coming to a close – for me, an inadmissible thought. The years of physical age have mounted close to 90, and even I, on the eve of my 63rd birthday, can feel their weight and the concomitant panic at time running out before all our works can be finished.
I have always been somewhat amazed at the warmth and musical closeness of our relationship. After all, you were born in the lap of Mozart, Wagner and Strauss, with full title to their domain; whereas I was born in the lap of Gershwin and Copland, and my title in the kingdom of European music was, so to speak, that of an adopted son. That is why I was so surprised to receive your message, some months ago, when you were stopped by illness from completing your Elektra recording, that if you should in time not recover to finish the missing central love scene, I, of all people, must be the one to complete it for you. You can imagine the honor I felt at this request and, also, my sense of inadequacy at the prospect of replacing so great a master.
But you must recover; I know what your recuperative powers can be. You are resilience itself. I have observed it in brilliant action last January in Munich when I watched and heard your last Entführung. It was charming and subtle as ever, but I did notice the difficulty you were having in moving, the extra long time it took you to reach the podium, and the extra effort the singers on stage had to make in order to follow your beat, usually small, but always so clear. Backstage, in the interval, you asked me if you might attend one of my Tristan rehearsals for only 20 minutes – all you thought your body could bear. Remember that you stayed for all of it – all 91 minutes of Act I (in a not very well polished first run-through). Remember, if you can, that you came bounding down the aisle to my podium, when orchestra and singers had left, your eyes aflame, and your cheeks ablaze. “Na Bernstein,” you said looking up (up!) at me from floor to stage, “jetztz hab' ich endlich zum ersten Mal im Leben Tristan gehört.” You looked like a young man, burning, radiant. I was in heaven, not only because of this unbelievable imprimatur from the Wagnerian pope himself, but also because I was watching a mystical, quasi-Faustian rejuvenation. “Auch das Vorspiel?”, I asked timorously, knowing that there was at least a five-minute difference between your timing of the Prelude and mine. “Überhaupt das Vorspiel,” you answered, and began to give me an extraordinary analysis of what I had just done in terms of phrasing, tempo relationships, etc. You taught me, in wisdom, what I had been performing by intuition. You were a young, strong man.
You are young. Please stay so, for me, for my colleagues, for the holy art. What you have done in music has already made you immortal; does that not encourage you to remain with us, and teach us forever?
I pray for you, as does the whole world of music.
With devotion,
Bernstein
602. Leonard Bernstein to Richard Horowitz16
August 1981
For Dick H,
Dear friend, and cherished colleague, Dick:
Bless you for each and every stick,
Especially these new birthday sticks
Which are delicate, strong, and free, and six!
Loving thanks,
Lenny
603. Lukas Foss to Leonard Bernstein
1 September 1981
Hi Lenny,
Halil arrived this morn. What a moving piece. As an x-flutist (I used to play well at 15) I enjoy the flute writing, and I love the Alto Flute's role. The end reminds me of the 1st version of the Age of Anxiety with that reentry for
one chord; here it is reentry for 2 notes. It works though and if I can't get Rampal or Galway to play it with me, I'll have my 1st flute in Milwaukee learn it (she is wonderful).
Sometime can I hear a tape or will the record be out soon?
Love
Ever
Lukas
604. David Charles Abell to Leonard Bernstein
Hotel Schweizerhof, Berlin, Germany
30 April 1982
Dear Lenny,
I want to thank you from my heart for having made possible my debut with Mass in Berlin. When I stepped off the podium last night, I felt so wonderful, I could have conducted the whole piece through right there again. Had I planned it all when I was twelve years old sitting backstage at the Kennedy Center listening to Mass, I could not have done better than the reality. It gives me so much joy to conduct your music. I know it so well and I love it so much and believe in it and understand what it has to say – it makes me very happy that Mass is the first piece I have conducted professionally. I grew up with Mass, and I hope God will permit me to grow old and die with it too.