The Leonard Bernstein Letters

by Leonard Bernstein

  I'm sorry you missed my last Omnibus show, On Jazz, and it seems to have had an ecstatic reaction all over the country. Columbia wants to record it, and all the others in a series, and there is serious talk of filming it (and others) for commercial release in theatres. Goodness. Next one coming up in about three weeks, on Bach, about whom I know nothing about whom.

  Romeo proceeds apace, with a new young lyricist named Steve Sondheim, who is going to work out wonderfully. I still have high hopes of a spring production. No deal reached as yet with Bob Joseph and Co. We may have to give it to other producenicks. I wrote a spic song called “Maria” which may finally bring me to jukeboxes, who knows. And one called “Cool” which will never see a jukebox.

  Candide is a certainty for next fall. [Tyrone] Guthrie is signed, and a big rewrite job must take place next late spring and summer. So no T'wood. We're toying with the idea of a huge house in Englewood. Imagine, with a pool and huge grounds. It's one of those monstrosities, but we could make it cheerful and fine. We just may buy it, if we can get it cheaply.

  The first Symph of Air concert comes up on the 9th, with Aaron's new Canticle of Freedom, and Mahler 2nd. Wish you were here.

  So, as you see, life is busier than ever, and everything goes swimmingly except that Felicia just doesn't seem to get work. She is depressed, and I don't blame her. Alexander is a heartthrob, a wonder, and so is Jamie. We long for you. I'm going to try to get to P[uerto] R[ico] for some local research on the Romeo show: any excuse, but I may get away with it. Let's hope. When can you next have a leave?

  All our loves; and do write soon, not following my detestable example.

  Lennuhtt

  364. Marc Blitzstein to Leonard Bernstein

  30 December 1955

  Dear Lenny,

  You have written, and so I answer, although I had planned to do nothing, but let the thing sink into the impassive past. But I am a bum actor; and seeing you both at Eddie Albert's25 was perhaps too soon. My belligerence to Felicia (poor girl, it wasn't her fault I was left alone with her) was Reuben,26 was Bourbon, to the extent I can't remember what I said, but it was probably nonsense – but it was really your outrageous treatment in subjecting me to a private meeting in your drawing-room with the worm Robbins.27 I have met him at parties, or could; one can't help that. But that it should come from you, who have been over the whole story with me, have once been furious with him (“slap his face” and “my stomach turns at the thought of working with him again” were two of your phrases),28 and with the passage of time have let that fury cool and dim and at length yield to other considerations – this is hard to take. I do apologize to Felicia. About you and me – I don't know what to do about our friendship, or my continuing fondness for you. A few more body-blows – put it down to your ego, your thoughtlessness, I don't care – might make any intimacy permanently untenable.

  No, I did not send Jamie a gift.29 Right now, with a sudden unexpected lawsuit against me for “pilfering” Threepenny Opera, I was too poor to afford any gifts, including mother, Jo, etc. But she has my love, as does Lex. I don't send cards.

  We'll probably meet at Lillian's, New Year's Eve. Let's not get into this talk; I should only become “quarrelsome”. Let's let it ride a bit.30

  Marc

  365. Robert Shaw to Leonard Bernstein

  Hotel Georgian Terrace, Atlanta, GA

  14 February 1956

  Dear Lennie,

  Please accept my apologies for not contacting you before we left New York concerning your wonderful choruses in The Lark and my attempt to program them through the Spring Tours.

  In the last few hectic days of rehearsals, I discovered – as I have every season for the past eight years – that the program already was too long, and simply couldn't see my way to getting them installed and rehearsed adequately (which latter was the principal item).

  I do think they are absolutely (and variously) captivating and exciting pieces – and I continue to hope that we may be able to perform them in some suite-form in the near future.

  Again – many thanks. It was a delight to see you again.

  All good wishes,

  Bob Shaw

  366. Leonard Bernstein to David Diamond

  Vineyard Haven, MA

  25 May 1956

  Dear Dov,

  The news is sad indeed. I had no idea your mother was in so bad a state. Poor Sabina [Diamond's sister] – what that girl has been through, what with one thing and another. And what it must be doing to you – breaking up your household, your work, your peace, and all for such a rush trip home. Mightn't it be possible to bring your mother to you in Italy, and have her spend her last days in all that beauty and quiet, and with you? It would save you so much and keep you together (all of you) – but I suppose that travel is just too much for her now.

  I've been searching my brain and my acquaintances for a couple to take your villetta, but in vain. I do hope it all works out well. We must see you of course, when you come, even if only for a bit: so do call us when you arrive, or write us here. The phone is Vineyard Haven 1396.

  It's all like a déjà vu. Here we are again, Lillian and us, back at the Vineyard, exactly like two summers ago, with a T'wood leave of absence, but this time with Tyrone Guthrie, who will direct, and incidentally will save the show, I think. Other change: new lyricist, Richard Wilbur, a marvelous young poet who has never written a lyric in his life, and is already doing wonders. I now have hope for Candide, for the first time in ages. We go into rehearsal after Labor Day.31 Meanwhile I am concurrently writing the other show (the Romeo one, with Arthur Laurents and Robbins and a charming gifted boy named Steve Sondheim) and it begins to look like something. Both at once. It's a wild situation, even for me. And, again, concurrently, I must do something about the Boston Symph commission (not a note yet). Plus concerts this summer, in order to support my expanding brood, plus writing TV shows for the fall, plus plus plus. It doesn't look like a relaxing summer, to say the least, but there is much sky and water and air and beauty here, and I love it. I've been here for a week all alone (Felicia follows with brood and company in a few days). It is cold and sunny and bracing, and I am having fun cooking for myself and feeding the furnace and making the fireplaces and watching the late spring come hesitantly forth.

  We are all well and send our love to you and Ciro [Cuomo]. Let us hear of your arrival.

  Love,

  Lenny

  367. Leonard Bernstein to Aaron Copland

  Vineyard Haven, MA

  13 June 1956

  Dear Aa,

  Ah, the pressures. When I think that I have thanked you in my mind for the score of Tender Land a hundred times & I have never had a second to write it, I am aghast. I guess I kept thinking I had written, so often had I thought you thanks.

  The more I look at the score the more beautiful & special it becomes. And though I still have grave reservations about the libretto (which led you into unavoidable dangers) I find that it has a great theatrical value after all, due largely to the marvelous tonal world created by the music. It has its own ambiente, & its own authentic “world”, as every work should: & that is the important thing, hoe-downs to the contrary. It's always the work of a master, no denying. So thank you, dear Aa, very much.

  Work here on the island goes in five directions, & I hope gets somewhere. Anyway the island is a dream.

  Did you know that David D[iamond] is arriving soon?

  Are you coming this way, & if so can we have lobsters-in-the-basket all together like a déjà-vu? This whole summer is a kind of déjà-vu, what with Candide & Lillian & the same house, – nothing changed. Have fun at T'wood. Best to Jack.

  Love,

  Lenny

  Guess who else is arriving – tomorrow, I think –? Charlie Roth, that gangster maniac. Prends garde. Sauve qui peut.

  L

  368. Richard Rodgers32 to Leonard Bernstein

  488 Madison Avenue, New York, NY

  9 October 1956


  Dear Leonard,

  We were committed many weeks ago to see Judy Garland this past Sunday night and there was no way to cancel it. However, I have had reports from innumerable people about your performance and the infinitely kind things you had to say about Oscar and me.33 I am writing to Paul Feigay to see if I can get a kinescope of the broadcast. I can't tell you what it means to us to have your friendship and enthusiasm.

  All fondest to Felicia and you.

  As ever,

  Dick

  369. Leonore Goldstein to Leonard Bernstein

  4615 Lindell Boulevard, St. Louis, MO

  17 October 1956

  Dear Leonard,

  I cannot begin to tell you what a glow of pleasure and satisfaction came over me as I read a notice in last evening's Post Dispatch over your appointment to the conductorship of the Philharmonic – an avalanche of thoughts came to mind. First, your and Felicia's joy at the great reward for your fine work, Miss Coates' pride that “her boy” had been so honored and also the happiness of your dear parents. Do you realize that you are the very first American to have reached this exalted position, and at such a young age! I am as excited as though you were of my own kith and kin. How I wish myself in Carnegie Hall when you walk on the stage this winter for your first concert as guest, and as the real boss for the next season. What music you will make with that magnificent organization.

  Our first concert will be given this week. Harry Farbman34 will conduct before a group of guests are to appear and then Golschmann35 remains for 10 weeks until the close of the season.

  I have also noted that Candide will soon be produced and I am sure that will be another feather in your cap – if it can hold any more.

  I must stop – your minutes are scarce but be assured that I share your great honor and congratulate you warmly.

  Affectionately,

  Leonore III

  370. Solomon Braslavsky to Leonard Bernstein

  Temple Mishkan Tefila, Boston, MA

  18 October 1956

  My dear Lenny,

  Yesterday I read the good news about your appointment as co-conductor of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra for the next season.

  So, you finally made it. Naturally, this is only the beginning. But I am mighty proud of you and everything that happened for two reasons.

  First, my prophecy became reality. I always predicted to you, your father and to all of our mutual friends that you will land a big position as conductor. It is true, you are a great composer and you rank high among American composers. But few, if any, of the great composers, past and present, are good conductors, not to speak of great conductors […] (I remember Arnold Schoenberg conducting Beethoven's 9th Symphony. It was pitiful indeed). But you are and you will remain a great composer, but above all you will make history as a great conductor.

  The second reason is that you reached your goal by your own merits (no string[s], no politics) and with your own name. It is neither BERNini, nor STEINkovsky. It is what you always were, what you are and what you always will be.

  Congratulations and best wishes for great success. May the Lord bless and keep you in good health and happiness.

  With kindest regards to Felicia and the two little geniuses, I hope,

  Cordially yours,

  Solomon

  371. Lukas Foss to Leonard Bernstein

  University of California, Los Angeles, CA

  25 November 1956

  Dear Lenny,

  Mailed to you today a full score of my Psalms.36

  This is one time I am really curious to hear what it'll sound like – never had so many instrumental–texture–ideas before. Will you have a chance to glance at it? I wish Candide luck and all your other projects – have not yet congratulated you about the N.Y. Philharmonic directorship. My feeling there was mostly “congratulating the Philharmonic”.

  If N.Y. is going to be that exciting musically we better leave our sunny West and come back.

  We will be in N.Y. actually from Jan 14th to February 5th. See you then I hope. Love to Felicia.

  Lukas

  372. Stephen Sondheim37 to Leonard Bernstein

  11 East 80th Street, New York, NY

  Friday [1956]

  Dear Lunnit (sp.?),

  You have the distinct privilege of being the first person in these Continental United States to receive correspondence typed on my new and not completely paid-for IBM Electric Typewriter. How about these margins?

  Apart from showing off this latest acquisition, I do want to reiterate how much I like the Candide music. And, though I was hesitant to say so last evening, I also want to reiterate the offer I made earlier this year – if at any time you want help on the lyrics (or even the music) you need only ask.38

  See you soon.

  Love,

  Steve

  373. Gunther Schuller39 to Leonard Bernstein

  14 January 1957

  Dear Lennie,

  Congratulations on your stunning exploration of the why's and wherefore's of modern music on Omnibus last Sunday. You are – it goes without saying – uniquely qualified for the task. I am very confident that you made many converts with your lucid and detailed explanations which, although of necessity assumed that the viewer knew very little of the composer's vocabulary and method, nevertheless at no point talked down to the audience. How few composers would be able to do this with your naturalness, conciseness and virtuosity!

  Having said that much, however, I also felt moved to point out a serious flaw in your delineation, namely an unfortunate intrusion – conscious or subconscious, it is hard to say – of your own personal viewpoint of the subject in the latter half of the program.

  After a very factual exploration of how atonality developed logically from chromaticism, you allowed your own qualitative feelings about Wagnerian heaviness and/or excessive emotionalism creep in to such an extent that it became quite apparent what “camp” you were in. This is all the more a shame since the actual statements you made (juxtaposing the new objectivity of Satie and Hindemith with post-Wagnerian romanticism and expressionism) were mostly valid statements per se – in cold print they would appear quite sound – but the slightly sarcastic coloring & inflection you gave these thoughts made it too obvious which way you wanted the listener to be swayed. In other words, you seemed to momentarily abandon at the crucial point the very “objectivity and clarity” you mentioned so often.

  Giving the picture this slant was a little unfair. The further we get into the middle of our century the more objectively we see some of the highly controversial and heated arguments of earlier decades (you indicated this yourself when you said it seems that the two camps were coming closer together, that a kind of synthesis may be in the making). It has thus also become clear that Debussyan chromaticism, which you had in the anti-Wagner camp, is a lot closer to late Wagner than anybody including Debussy was for a long time willing to admit, and that the important works of the Impressionists were to an until recently greatly underestimated extent responsible for not only the break-through to atonality but the instrumental sound and coloring of early Schönberg and almost all of Webern.

  There is not such a big jump, after all, from Debussy's Jeux or parts of Pelléas to Parsifal in one direction, and to Erwartung or Pierrot lunaire in the other direction, as was first thought to be the case. Is the mysticism of Pelléas, the lushness of the Firebird really so much closer to the “objectivity & clarity” of Satie than the expressionism of Pierrot?

  The role of Debussy in this whole development has only lately been correctly assessed. His own explorations into – or almost into – the regions of atonality, his experiments with rhythmic counterpoint and irregular rhythms, and above all his concept of the break-up of textures and lines have been only belatedly evaluated, and their important influence on Webern is still all but unappreciated.

  That brings me to the subject of Webern. Since most of the young generation of European composers, certainly the important ones, are great
ly under his influence (much more so than Schönberg's), omitting him in your portrait of modern music tilts the argument heavily to one side. Mind you, I appreciate the problems involved. It would be hard, on a program directed primarily at a nationwide audience of laymen, to spend time talking about a composer almost totally unknown – even as a name – in America. More than that, if you had decided to talk about Webern and objectively place him within the present situation, your whole original point about the “two camps” would have had to go, and from a viewer's or layman's point of view your picture of 2 opposing factions is a much more attractive one. Yet should that have been allowed to govern your decisions? Obviously for the sake of fairness and objectivity, you should have taken the chance of beclouding the issue a little – of making the situation less black & white.

  The point about Webern, of course, is that he was able to cut his ties with romanticism much more thoroughly than Schönberg or Berg. Schönberg's whole unsuccessful struggle to pour atonal expressionistic ideas into classical forms was avoided from the start by Webern. The “objectivity, clarity & simplicity” which Schönberg couldn't attain (and which you saw only in the music of the other camp) is certainly Webern's most important contribution to contemporary music. What – except neo-classic Stravinsky – could be less verbose, less heavy, less square, less involved with these and any other Wagnerian attributes you care to name than Webern? The trouble is that at this short range we still blame the relative weaknesses & discrepancies of Schönberg's art on the 12-tone system, or on the Wagner-influence, or on Mahler etc., etc. – rather than on Schönberg himself. I am convinced that Schönberg's music, if it is “neurotic”, “lacking in humor”, “subjective” or what have you (and all these points are debatable), it is so because Schönberg's personality – and not the 12-tone system or atonality per se – was such as to cause this. He would have written (and did write) the same under another system. What different and opposite musical concepts & styles are possible within atonality or 12-tone is becoming increasingly obvious. By this serious omission, therefore, you failed to present a complete picture of the 12-tone side, and thus slanted the argument considerably in one direction.