Yes, we often rehearse on Saturdays. The orchestra is already greatly improved, & Rodzinski is a fine guy, & a very conscientious (if not always over-profound) conductor. Secrecy, please.
Let me know how it goes. I'm very happy. Very. Aaron is back, & all is right again. The North Star (his movie) is fine enough, & I've been fighting with Oscar Levant again. I may get a commission to do a ballet for the Ballet Theatre!141
As I say, let me know…
Love,
L
160. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim
Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York, Steinway Building, New York, NY, Carnegie Hall 803
postmark 22 October 1943
Dear Dave,
Delighted to hear you sounding much the same (it's even fun to hear you're still neurotic). But it's not so nice to hear that you're so unsettled. Why can't the army discover you and use you properly? It seems a shame that you should languish this way in what you call the plague state.
I'm in a big hurry – as always these days – since the JOB is all-consuming. It's quite glorious & exciting, & I wish you were here to be in on it a little bit.
My best to Mad, & love to you –
L
Keep out of those suicidal depths.
The recording depends on Petrillo's release.142
The Sonata is off the press today. Slight delay because of editor's sickness. Will send you a copy.
I guess Detroit is off on both our sides.
Also, Frauistically speaking, I have never been better.
Why don't you communicate with her directly?
Address: Marketa Morris, 562 W. 113th St NYC.143
161. Renée Longy Miquelle to Leonard Bernstein
3901 Edgewood Road, Baltimore, MD
Lundi soir [?October 1943]
Darling Spookietchka!
It's such fun getting a really happy-sounding letter, for yours actually exudes happiness and in turn I am truly heureuse for you.
But after these many years you certainly should have learned to read my so called illegible handwriting … after all it's not baritone clefs.
I wrote you a postal this morning; I guess I knew you were conducting then. Your letter which I just found this minute confirms that “je ne sais quoi” which I felt earlier in the day.
What have you been fighting with Oscar – “again” you say – didn't know you did before. By the way, if Sinatra looks anything like the picture I saw of him in Time magazine, Oscar L. is completely “dingo” to say the two of you look alike.
Now on a “terestrial digression” (or is it terrestrial? poor French me don't know) – those odd pieces of furniture are in storage in Philly. They very likely could be picked up by some moving truck, as a fill-in load and brought to you. A bureau is French for desk. It's a flat top desk, mahogany finish, with three drawers on the right hand side and another shallower one across the knee-hole […] The bench you sat on when you had those cotelettes de veau à la crème, and sat on it many another time afterwards. Sorry the bureau does not happen to be une commode, ni un chiffonier. When I go to Philly, I shall check up on all these things and let you know what there is. If you still want it, well and good.
So you have “abandoned” our baby Steinway … a fine unpaternal person you've become.
If I say nothing about my work, students and milieu it's because there is nothing to relate about it. Work? Same as before, interesting to some extent, the students fair (ni lard, ni cochon, honest, conscientious, not at all exciting). Milieu? non existent as yet; although it looks as though it might become so, fairly soon.
Have not been branded a Jewess or a Jew-lover yet, although am sharing the apartment of the mother of a former Curtis pupil and they are Jews. Edgewood Road is a bit like the Newtons, but a more recent development; suburbanish. It's a bit far from town, and certainly adds up to an expensive transportation item, let alone the expense of energy (from 50 to 60 minutes to, and same from …) Am biding my time, and looking around for something closer to things.
Saw Lester Englander last Friday (he has a job here as cantor, you know, and he comes down every week). He told me that Leo Luskin is back in Philly … wonder if he is as literal as ever.
I must stop this so to have it in the mail for the one and only collection around these parts.
My love to Aaron when you see him.
To you … beaucoup d'affection.
R.
162. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim
Carnegie Hall 803, New York, NY
postmark 4 November 1943
Dear Dave,
Item: You should receive any day one (1) copy of the Bernstein–Oppenheim Clarinet Sonata, prepaid, and with my love.
Item: You owe the Frau exactly $26.00, plus $10.00 for the Rohrschach job.
Item: You're very slow on answering letters.
Things are fine, O.K, progressing rapidly.
Let me hear from you.
Love,
L
163. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim
Carnegie Hall 803, New York, NY
postmark 9 November 1943
Dave,
Thinking of you daily, I sometimes get the thought that you are desperately needed by symphonic organizations. Isn't there some sort of honorable discharge that would fit your case? Isn't a “line” (and a livelihood) one of your big needs?
Love,
L
Did you get the Licorice Stücke?144
164. Leonard Bernstein to Jerome Robbins145
Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York, Steinway Building, New York, NY
Tuesday [late 1943]
Dear Jerry,
I've been a stinker not to have written sooner, but I guess you know what has been going on with this baby. I have hardly breathed in the last two weeks. Nothing but reporters & photographers, & calls & mail & rehearsals, & I'm conducting this week (listen on Sunday!), & my scores pile up mercilessly. My Symphony parts lie uncorrected, & my – our – ballet lives only in the head – only one scene on paper. But it is on paper (not legible, but I'll make it so as soon as I can).146 That should cheer you. Fear not: somehow I'll get it done, though it's a fancy challenge.
The scene that's almost done is from the Entrance of Girl I through to the Entrance of Girl II, & the Pas de Deux. Everyone seems to be quite mad about it – I hope you will be. Of course it's all only 3 or 4 minutes – but that leaves only 16 more!! God, what a race with destiny!
I now to my naked bed to regain all those vanished ergs. All success to you & I really will do my best.
Love
L
By the way, I have written a musical double-take when the sailor sees Girl #2 – has that ever been done before? And the rhythm of your pas de deux is something startling – hard at first, but oh so danceable with the pelvis!
165. Leonard Bernstein to Jerome Robbins
Sunday [December 1943]147
Dear Jerry,
This to announce that I've really finished numbers III & IV. I'm not quite sure about the exact timing, but I have a bit of a suggestion. What do you think of the idea of having a part of a regular commercial song sung (by the bartender, or the jukebox, or something) during the pause from the exit of the 2 sailors with Girl #1 to the entrance of Girl #2? You see, the pas de deux between you & Girl #2 is based on a popular song style, but rather a complicated variation of same; and I think it might also have a bit more (a lot more) meaning if the song – a part of it – had already been heard in a purely nonchalant, commercial way. It might also prove to be a success song – which would help the ballet's career, & yours, & mine. And it would also provide an increased suspense – during a welcome lull. And add time–weight to the whole work.
I realize that there are all sorts of handicaps, like paying a singer (what about bartender?) – or getting sound equipment for a jukebox. What do you think? The song itself is very blue, intimate, sexy and naive, but unusual formally.
I'
m really doing my best to have it ready in time. It's a battle, but everything's a battle that ever turns out to be good.
Ran across Agnes de Mille last night, & she's really rooting for you & the ballet. Contract is signed, I've received initial payment. (I've been rooked out of all bounds, but I don't care.)
Good success to your tour and let me hear soon. Be good.
Love,
L
166. Leonard Bernstein to Jerome Robbins
Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York, Steinway Building, New York, NY
[December 1943]
Dear Jerry,
Your description of the state of the Ballet Theatre sounds gruesome. Don't take it too seriously, and get some sleep. (I should talk.)
I've sent the prints of III & IV off to you. I finally got them in ink: but I still am not satisfied with the end of III. It will have to be changed eventually, but it won't make it too hard for you, will it?
I'm working on the second (relaxed) section. I think finally I've got the idea. It's rather suspended in feeling, with little interruptions of staccato rhythms punctuating slow woodwind phrases. Also, the little dotted tune in No. III (“Much faster”) will be introduced in this section, as a kind of hot pants feeling. So, you will have, in general, a slow, slightly tense, slightly serious section, but lyrical, perfumed by these little rhythmic urgings in the balls.
I know you can do fine with it. Does it fit with your plans. (It's all thematically related to the opening dance.) Incidentally, I'm stretching the opening dance a little by adding a little section of about 15 seconds. It makes the form more telling.
I've also decided to give the piano quite a solo role. It grows more & more important all the time (it never remains alone for more than a few measures); and seems to be the auditory key to the ballet – since a piano gives the feeling of percussion, brazenness, hardness, brightness, honky-tonkness, clarity, and intimacy. Don't you agree? How does a solo piano sound at the Met?
I heed heartily your pleas for simplicity. The score actually is very simple – only the rhythms have to be concentrated upon like fury. There's no simplifying the rhythms – they're there, & they're the essence & basis of the whole score – but the notes will be very easy. I think it can be done. We can only pray. Nay, I know it can be done.
We'll be good. If we worry enough, it's got to be a smash. Wish you were back in N.Y. It would all go much faster.
About that radio. It's a problem. You see, the song on which IV is based cannot under any circumstances come just before the pas de deux on the radio. The song itself and its completion in IV must be separated (preferably by the transition before it). Can we have the song sung at the end of III (the radio having been turned on during III, as indicated in the print), and proceed directly to the transition? I mistakenly indicated the Radio after the transition, which is just where I don't want it. It seems simple enough. Is it OK?
No completed Variations yet. Soon, soon. Grace of God, Moses, & The Società Filharmonica. I'm to meet Toscanini on New Year's Day, & I'm being very Italian these days. Bless you, & write.
Love,
Lenny
167. Shirley Gabis to Leonard Bernstein
[?January 1944]
Dear Lenny,
Will you be a sweet boy and send me Adolph's address in Cal.? have a sudden yen to write to him. I heard the Clarinet Sonata on records and feel moved to give you the following criticism – unasked for though it may be – as an honest human being and a conscientious composer it would seem that you should not be satisfied with your music until it has a little bit of the real Lenny in it – and not just a rehash of Hindemith and Copland.148
Of course I haven't the vaguest idea of what has happened to the real Lenny and even if he exists any more.
But if you would only be your own severest critic and not let anything you write go out for public consumption until you are sure way down deep that what you have written is truly worthy of you and that is music that is really music and not trash.
My god Lenny why don't you listen to a few Beethoven quartettes – and perhaps you will find in them the true meaning of artistic integrity.
I hope I don't seem too harsh – but it makes me sore as hell that there is perhaps something deep down inside you that is honest, sincere, and good that the you outside ignores. And Lenny, believe me when I tell you that although you are headed for a brilliant career, it will never be a great one. Your driving ambition to be the most versatile creature on earth will kill any possibility of you becoming a truly great artist in any one of the talents you possess.
Think hard, Lenny, bore way down deep into yourself and find there the courage to be honest. Is your mission in life to be the greatest of all dilettantes??
If you have a real contribution to make Lenny, you must find out now what it is. Concentrate and work and make it a great thing – and don't write clarinet sonatas that make any serious musician think you an utter fool – it's not fair to yourself because you're not really an utter fool.
And I say again, listen to lots of late Beethoven, play the sonatas often. Understanding Beethoven can teach you more about the things you must learn than anyone can possibly tell you.
Of course there is no reason why anything I think should impress you greatly, and when I tell you that at present I have little respect for you as a person and an artist, you can think “she's a little fool” and with perfect right – but Lenny, despite all I still have a vague sentimental attachment for you, and remember good things about you that seem completely lost now – and I do wish the very best for you, and sincerely hope that somehow, some way, those good things in you might aid you in becoming something truly worthwhile.
And please send Adolph's address for which I thank you in advance.
Shirley
P.S. Good luck for Pittsburgh.
168. Leonard Bernstein to Serge Koussevitzky
Hotel Schenley, Pittsburgh, PA
[28 January 1944]
Dear Serge Alexandrovitch,
Here I am, finally, in Pittsburgh. I am excited beyond words at hearing my symphony. I must say that to me it sounds just as I thought it would. The orchestra is rough, but in a way like the Tanglewood orchestra – full of spirit, young, and cooperative to a great degree. I am having a marvelous experience here. Even the scherzo is almost perfectly played – but for a real performance we must wait for the Boston performance. I have had to make surprisingly few changes. And the Firebird is a real, fiery, Tanglewood performance.
Have you been reading about the mess in New York since I left? They phoned me here Monday to return for the Tuesday rehearsal, but it was impossible. Then Byrnes [Harold Byrns] rehearsed Rosenkavalier, and made a mess of it; so it came off the program – and Hans [William] Steinberg will conduct. I derive great satisfaction from it all – it feels wonderful to have the Philharmonic really dependent on me.
Jennie Tourel is here, and sends love and kisses. She sings the symphony like an angel. It's really heartbreaking.
Reiner is being very kind and helpful. He sends you his warmest greetings; and he suggests that the greatest triumph over Mr. Rodzinski would be to bring the symphony to New York with the Boston Symphony Orchestra!! (He specifically asked me to tell you this!)
My love to you; and keep well until I see you again.
Love to Olga.
Lenushka
169. Leonard Bernstein to Jerome Robbins
Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York, Steinway Building, New York, NY
[early 1944]
Dear Jerry,
II is finished, and should reach you very soon. It's much shorter than we had hoped, but it doesn't sustain. It's difficult to be bored for a long time on stage, & not bore the audience too. (This is musical talk again.) At any rate, it provides all the chances you need for pantomime, gum, drinks, or peanuts. And it is constructed so that it can be easily changed around to suit your timing. When you get it, cross out the last measure (unfinished) of page
10, & proceed to page 11. You will notice that II is really part of I. I think the connection to III is a knockout. I changed my mind from dying out of II to a recurrence at the end of it of the excited opening material, giving the feeling of Let's Do Something!! And at the least expected moment the girl arrives. I think you'll agree when you hear it. I don't think that the introducing of “Much faster” in II will hurt: when it appears in III it's all different. I'd like to cut a few measures of it, tho’, in III; and have changed the tempo mark to “Somewhat faster.” God I wish you were here. It's so hard to write about these things. Be good, though, & happy, & like the stuff as much as I do.
Love,
L
(There's a phrase most Aaron-like in II – I hope you don't mind. It's so pretty I can't remove it.)
170. Leonard Bernstein to Jerome Robbins
Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York, Steinway Building, New York, NY
[early 1944]
Dear Jerry,
It's awfully hard for us to keep up with each other. I've had a flood of special deliveries that appall me. Jerry – everything has gone out to you from #1 to #4 inclusive! Why don't you have it? And I sent two copies for you, keeping three, but apparently [J. Alden] Talbot kept one en route. Henceforth I'll send three – one for Talbot.
I'll do everything possible to get recordings to you pronto. It's next to impossible to find the time, but I'll do my best. I can certainly sympathize about the pianist; it's hard to play anyway, apart from the special jazzy style. Wait till he tries number I!
Keep up the spirit. It's gonna be fine. And I'm in the thick of the Variations. And actually with ideas. And please like #II!
Love,
Lenny
171. Leonard Bernstein to Jerome Robbins
Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York, Steinway Building, New York, NY
[28 February 1944]
Dear Jerry,
Slow, slow, but sure. Number 5 is done and being shipped. It's true enough connective tissue, à la movies, and ought to come off. It's more or less all development of the competition motive, with some of the music of Girl #1 to use (during the rotation) for the conspiring of the two girls.
The Leonard Bernstein Letters Page 21
