The Leonard Bernstein Letters

by Leonard Bernstein

  At the audition I played Carmen & Traviata & Butterfly. I wasn't great – but I was OK, I guess. After I had played the Traviata solo (which I loathe) Laszlo said there was no question about my tone now for some notes. Then the beginning and about 3 pages of Butterballs52 & I'm sticking to him like glue thru a million Puccini rubatos.

  He then conceded that I had “mastered the instrument. Have you the courage to play 1st?” To which I replied modestly – with much Frauentruth – that I didn't have the courage to play anything else. So he said to Fallioni – “Good boy” – & that's it.

  Fallioni says over again “I think this will make Lenny very happy, eh.”

  The house I live in now, not mine to own. We accept each other, with all our faults.

  I have made a down payment of $5.00 on a small 5′6” porcelain bathtub which when I raise the sufficient capital – $13.00 – I will install in my bathroom.

  Cheer up friend Lenny. Soon you will be back with those who love you and in the […] Berkshires. Not long from now. We miss you and I miss you.

  Love,

  Dave

  Best to Helen

  225. Leonard Bernstein to Shirley Bernstein

  Hyde Park Hotel, London, England

  17 June 1946

  Darling,

  Your letter came this morning “bringing hope & cheer.” As a matter of fact, I've been feeling infinitely better since writing you last, when skies were really greymalkin. I had my Lōondonshein début yesterday, and apparently it was a huge success, though the Times critic is still back in 1905, worrying about the question of a baton or no baton. Incredible country. The state of music is a shambles, the programs are embarrassing, the standard of performance abysmal.

  I am constantly saying, if you were only here! What fun all this nonsense would be! I saw three shambles in a row that would have thrown you. First, a concert conducted by a wildman named de Sabata, who makes Mitrop[oulos] look like a sissy. He beats his head and jumps in the air & the bloody British public screams in delight. Then, the theatre: The First Gentleman with wonderful Robert Morley & heavenly Wendy Hiller, but a play to make one wince (long scenes of dying in childbirth), and the British public screams. Then, the ballet. That was the end. Three ballets in a row at Covent Garden, one more lamentable than the last. And corn! And no imagination, and the audience screamed. So much for the British public.

  Peter Lawrence is here, to be followed by the whole crowd. Wait til Nora Kaye gets brought here by two liveried footmen! That will be the take [talk] of the season.

  God, I should have brought you. I miss you […] and love you so much. But, as you say, you're here with me, and people often catch me giggling to myself, when I am making Rybernian conversation with you on the latest British idiocy.

  […]

  All my love – be well – and somehow that Schirmer deal smells bad. I hope it all works out.

  If Kouss lets me, I may stay on here till July 4th to conduct opening night Fancy Free at Covent Garden. I'll let you know.

  Bless you,

  L

  226. Leonard Bernstein to Serge Koussevitzky

  Hyde Park Hotel, London, England

  22 June 1946

  Dearest Serge Alexandrovich,

  I have wanted to write you every day since your generous permission to stay an extra week in England arrived by cable – but I have not been able because I could not decide to stay and give up even one week of Tanglewood. You know so well what that paradise means to me – there are only six weeks in all, and every one is so important. Besides, I did not want to upset your plans if anything depended on me in the first week. But two things have finally made me take the decision to stay. First, I have had a serious throat infection this week, and had to cancel one concert (Leinsdorf substituted for me!) – and I need a week's rest in the countryside to get strong and well again for the great work this summer.

  The second reason is that I am to make records here on July 1st,53 and since that is so important, I suppose I must remain, and then conduct my ballet on the 4th. But I promise, when I return I will feel healthier, and be able to work harder; and I will take the first plane after July 4th!

  My concerts are all over here, and they have been very successful, although the programs could not be materially altered. For example, last night was my final concert, in sold-out Albert Hall (over 5,000 people in the audience) – but the program! Handel's Water Music, Grieg's Piano Concerto (with a bad pianist named Eileen Joyce) and Tchaikovsky's Fifth. At least I had a chance to play a major symphony, and it was a great experience to play the Fifth for the first time. Some people in the audience came back and told me that it was better than Nikisch! (That, of course, meant it was in the Koussevitzky tradition, but not so good.) Isn't it strange how in this small world all the lines of history and destiny come around eventually in perfect circles? I think that gives me more hope than anything else.

  Appalachian Spring has had a great success here. I have played it also in the provinces, where they love it, almost more than in London! But the greatest joke is that the Times called me [a] “real Wagnerian conductor” after my Tristan and Götterdämmerung with Marjorie Lawrence! I had never done Götterdämmerung before, and my whole Wagner repertoire has been almost nothing! So much for the critics.

  My greatest love to you, and all my blessings for the greatest Tanglewood season so far, and for many, many more. I cannot wait until I join you there.

  Devotedly,

  Leonard

  Kisses for Olga

  227. Leonard Bernstein to David Oppenheim

  Hyde Park Hotel, London, England

  postmark 24 June 1946

  Dear Solo Cl[arine]t,

  Felicitations and bravo, and all the best for the best of seasons with the best of orchestras under the – what am I saying? I'm very happy. Don't rub it in about Fabbioni. Everything's impartial as a chessmatch. Can I help it if we're both white knights?

  And kiss Felicia from me. I think it's swell, but I hear Swan Song isn't so swell. Does it last? And what of Gloucester?54 I wish I could see her in it.

  As for bathtubs, I could put two of yours into the one I have here, but I'd give anything to be in yours instead. England has begun to pall. I gave my final concert last night (great success) to a sold-out Albert Hall. Tchai[kovsky]'s 5th. Quite an experience, first time.

  I've just come through a strep throat. Canceled one concert. Penicillin worked miracles. Now I'm off to Glyndebourne for the week, to see Britten, & the rehearsals of his new opera The Rape of Lucrece,55 and to rest in the country. Maybe a side jaunt to Brighton (beim-sea).

  Then back here to record the old Ravel Concerto, with crack boys (including [Reginald] Kell, Brahan,56 etc.).

  Then to conduct opening night of the Ballet Theatre Fancy Free July 4th. Then home. (Kouss has sent special permission to let me miss first week in Tanglewood, which I loathe to do. But no can help. (British ink! Diluted shit!)57 When do you go up? Where will you live? Is it all set with the Union? I hope you haven't forgotten (or delayed) to act on that.

  Also (not also, but also, Deutsch) I will be joining you in the Boiks [Berkshires] around July 8th. I shall miss that opening week terribly. To say nothing of missing you. But hold on. I'm coming.

  I've been to a Sadler's Wells party tonight. What a bloody bore. And I've had a siege of singing “Barney Google”58 with big Andrews Sisters codas.

  … with his goo, goo, googly eyes –

  I mean –

  Goo– goo– goo– gle– y–

  eye…..s!!!

  All my love,

  L

  228. Felicia Montealegre59 to Leonard Bernstein

  [Summer 1946]

  Lennie dear!

  I'm in the middle of a rehearsal – I'll try my best to talk to you between cues – my God what a life! I don't get time to eat any more. I'm playing Raina in Arms and the Man which we will open with the first of July […]

  I was so happy to receive your “note” �
�� I was just a little hurt at your not saying good bye – you see dear, even though I know you are terribly busy and “confused” I still halfheartedly hope you'll remember my existence without me forever reminding you.

  Are you happy in London – do you like it? I hope you finally caught up with your sleep, that you're rested and enjoying everything as much as you can. […]

  When I see you again (I wonder how long it'll be before I do) I must have a long talk with you. I've been thinking (actually!) and there's a lot – but a lot – I want to say. I'll probably have to get Helen Coates to make an appointment for me – but I intend to have my say! Oh darling, you can be so silly sometimes – life isn't that serious, honest it isn't! I know I shouldn't take some things too seriously, specially where you are concerned, as for example I haven't even looked at another man since I met you (well, perhaps one or two – but that's all!) and I'm not exactly beating my head against the wall – I'm training myself just beautifully, but I must confess that it's rather difficult sometimes!

  I never found out how long you were to stay in England. Do you think you might find time to write me again – a postcard maybe? I'll be leaving for Gloucester on the 17th – the address is: Bass Rocks Summer Theatre, Gloucester, Mass.

  Goodbye darling – please be good and by the way, why don't you marry Helen off to a retired English Colonel who'll take her off to live in Sussex – well, it's a good idea anyway!

  Pip pip, old boy. I do love you rather. A kiss to you with a whiff of K.Y.!

  [Felicia]

  229. Felicia Montealegre to Leonard Bernstein

  [Summer 1946]

  Darling!

  It's nearly three but I can't go to sleep – I'm feeling particularly lonely tonight; it's rather dreadful getting home late after the show, opening the door, putting on the light and being faced with the most acute aloneness – but then as you once remarked, New York is full of people like me (no consolation at all!).

  I should be very happy – and, of course, there are moments when I am. This job has been a wonderful stroke of luck for me, and a grand beginning.60 It's such a satisfaction to be actually working and not just studying and preparing – you know – it's feeling that you belong at last to the “something” you were striving for.

  I miss you so much. I wonder why an ocean in between should make such a difference but somehow it does – there's something so irrevocable about it. I talked to Shirley today and I was told you had postponed your return – well, at least it means you're staying for something worthwhile. I felt so badly when I heard how miserable and disappointed you were.61 Cheer up my love and think of Tanglewood, you'll be happy there I know!

  It's hot as hell – mierda! mierda! David [Oppenheim] was here this afternoon – his usual wonderful refreshing self – I was soundly kissed in your name, merci monsieur! Twas nice … The same to you – many of them, with love.

  Felicia

  230. Samuel Barber to Leonard Bernstein

  Capricorn, Mount Kisco, NY

  [August 1946]

  Dear Lenny,

  I return the Berlioz with thanks. It is all I had to wear in Boston. Whether it was due to Peter Grimes, the Benedictine or the very pleasant evening I spent with you, I do not know: but on arriving at 625 Park, clutching the Berlioz, I allowed the taxi to drive off with tuxedo, diamond studs et al, and nothing has been returned. Perhaps I should wear khaki after all.

  Enclosed also my favorite critic which will be good for your ego, especially two “wiederums”.

  Sam

  231. Leonard Bernstein to Barbara Marcuse

  “Wednesday, but which one?” [4 September 1946]

  My dear Barbara and ménage,

  Nothing, absolutely nothing, could please me more than a shot at Charlevoix [northern Michigan] the Beautiful. But Charlevoix the Unattainable it must be. The Six Weeks were over, true, leaving a gray and bewildered and Grimes-weary Bernstein to plunge headlong into a new ballet for production this fall. (Ballet Theatre, of course, and J. Robbins). Roughly two weeks of mad note-jostling, and it's not finished yet, and tomorrow it's back to the fiery furnace (32 West 10th St., by the way, a 4-flight walk-up! The times!) and on to opening night in two weeks.62 So that's me at the moment, as usual, and goodbye to all this autumnal glory in the Berkshires, and even to the chance of seeing you. But don't you ever come to New York? You really must, you know. A few mad hours by plane, that's all. And I do miss you – there always arrives that moment when I recall the quiet security I sometimes borrowed from the Marcuse “set-up”. Alas.

  Shirley is “between shows”, as they say. Dave [Oppenheim] is on the verge of becoming 1st clarinet in my orchestra; England was ghastly; Tanglewood was hectic but rewarding; I have four weeks with the Boston Symphony this winter; and I never said that S[hostakovich]'s 9th was a bore. Tell Phil to take his favorite mag and send it back to Russia.

  All my love,

  Lenny (Hruba) Nonadjustable

  I think I'm going to Palestine, Vienna, Paris, and maybe (shh!) Russia in the spring!

  Blessings on Ann and small Ph.63

  232. Leonard Bernstein to Serge Koussevitzky

  32 West 10th Street, New York, NY

  6 October 1946

  Dearest Serge Alexandrovich,

  It sometimes seems that the courage necessary for living simply and clearly in this world is all but a superhuman quality. This has been a week of shadows and misunderstandings which has left me tired and not a little depressed. There has been this incredible muddle, to begin with, over the appearance of my orchestra in Boston. Everyone involved has apparently used subterfuge in one sense or another, leaving me exposed and guilty of an offense I have never committed. I have finally extracted a promise from Miss Canterbury, which she assured me would be put into writing to you, me, and Mr. [George] Judd, that all mention of my name would henceforth be left out of all her publicity. She will also enclose a slip in her program material stating that I will not appear in November. They are trying to negotiate for another conductor (possibly Stokowski). In any case, it will be a mess; but I am rid of it, I think. I have written to Adams, stating that I will not appear in Boston. What more can I do? The Canterbury woman has been promising since August that she will cancel the engagement, only to proceed with publicity and newspaper advertising behind our backs. Her excuse is that her own Board of Directors will not allow her to break the engagement, no matter how much she personally would like to.

  Well, enfin, whom does one trust in this world? I don't know what to believe of all these commercial people; but when you told me that you had doubted me, I was really grief-stricken. If there is no trust between us, dearest Serge Alexandrovich, there is no trust in the world! I believe with all my heart in our bond and in our beautiful relationship; and I am sure that you do. Something so strongly based and real in its love cannot be injured by the meddling of these meaningless interferers!

  To make things even sadder, I have had a miserable weekend with poor David Diamond, who has more or less cracked up emotionally. He has always been subject to hysterical actions, but this time it was a real collapse, brought on by the death of a girl who was very dear to him. I truly think that we shall have to convince him to have proper treatment and care in a qualified psychiatric hospital; otherwise there is only a bad end ahead for this talented and affectionate boy who has lost control of his emotional processes.

  Let us talk about happier things. I have been trying to revise our Boston programs to include the Bartók work; but the only place where it will fit would be along with the Mahler. Also, since Ruth Posselt must play in New York also, we cannot bring either the Bartók or Mahler to New York. Is it definite that Ruth plays in New York? If so, the programs might look like this:

  Boston and New York

  I. Gluck – Alceste

  Stravinsky – Le Sacre

  Schubert – [Symphony] #7

  II. Bernstein – Facsimile (ballet)

  (or an American overture)

&nbs
p; Hindemith – [Violin] Concerto (Posselt)

  Beethoven – [Symphony] #7

  Boston only

  III. Bartók – Music for strings, etc.

  Mahler – [Symphony] #7

  Bartók and Mahler is a very heavy combination, I think, and our old plan of a Mozart Symphony with the Mahler is certainly better; but this was the only place I could find for the Bartók. What do you think? I would also leave my ballet flexible until we can hear it performed this month. I have been looking through the Mahler score, which has marvelous things in it, and is also very long. (I have not been able to find out the exact timing.) I would still love to do it, if you wish. Would it be interesting to give the Shostakovich #7?

  The concerts here are going marvelously, and it is only this great activity, and all this heavenly music that keeps me going through a week such as I have had. We did the Mozart “Linz” Symphony last night, which more than atoned for the agonies of the weekend. It is a marvel! Perhaps I can do that with the Mahler?

  I wait to hear from you, with my love and faith strong and intact as always.

  Devotedly,

  Leonard

  233. Leonard Bernstein to Solomon Braslavsky64

  New York, NY

  10 October 1946

  Dear Professor,

  I have been suddenly inspired to write you a note (if you can pardon the lack of “a propos”). Having listened through a Kol Nidre service, and again the next day to a Yom Kippur service in a completely different kind of synagogue, I have come to realize what a debt I really owe to you – personally – for the marvelous music at Mishkan Tefila services. They surpass any that I have ever heard; and the memories I have of them are so bright, strong, and dear, that I shall probably never be able to estimate the real influence those sounds exerted on me. And please tell Cantor Glickstein that he is still my favorite cantor.

  All good luck,

  Leonard Bernstein65

  234. Solomon Braslavsky to Leonard Bernstein

  133 Elm Hill Avenue, Roxbury, MA

  16 October 1946