The Leonard Bernstein Letters (66 page)

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 greatly 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.

In this connection you may be interested in the following account by a composer friend of mine (Boulez) of an evening in Paris 3 or 4 years ago. It was told as proof of the genuineness of Stravinsky's conversion to the serial technique. Stravinsky was in the company of a group of young composers (incl. Boulez, Nono, Stockhausen, etc.) and one old school-chum of the master. They were discussing problems in contemporary music, drinking quite a bit; and Stravinsky, as you know, when he does drink gets very sad & nostalgic. At one point he turned to his old friend and, almost in tears, said (not verbatim, but in effect): “You know, of all of us (meaning himself, Schönberg, Bartók, Hindemith etc.), the only one who went in the right direction was Webern. I've been composing wrong all my life”. A pathetic & touching story. It is hard to say whether Stravinsky actually meant
all
of that, but his continuing adoption of 12-tone thinking à la Webern (not Schönberg!!) would seem to indicate that he meant it to be quite an extent, and if he did, what does this do to your “two camps”?

I write you with all this because I like to discuss subjects close to my heart with people I respect & admire. I need not emphasize that I appreciate & admire your absolutely unique combination of abilities. So it is not in the sense of hostile criticism that I write you this letter, but rather in a spirit of friendly discussion.

With best wishes,

Sincerely yours,

Gunther Schuller

P.S. Have a piece about jazz in the Jan 12th issue of
Sat. Review of Literature
. I think it might interest you.

Dear Mr. Bernstein,

As a very busy man with a large correspondence, I can well understand your annoyance at receiving yet another letter from a perfect stranger. But, at the risk
of being a bore, I am writing to ask if you would be at all interested in reading a dramatic version of my novel
Brave New World
, which I have recently made, with a view to a musical setting. (I envisage the piece as a play with music and dancing, rather than a conventional “musical”.) The story calls for a very resourceful composer, who can run the gamut from the primitive dances of the Indian Reservation to the music of the hypothetical future. So I naturally thought of you
⁴¹
and am hopefully writing this on the off chance that you may have the time and the inclination to consider such a project.

Yours sincerely,

Aldous Huxley

Dearest darling Lennuhtt,

It's all most peculiar, wonderful, strange and yet most familiar. There has been a constant stream of friends – about
twenty
at the airport last night – and all day today – exhausting but so heart-warming and nice. I never realized I was loved that much, or that my coming would be such an event – I'm truly overwhelmed by it all! The children are a smash – Jamie has taken over the Alessandri household already – what a delight it is to see all those children together! I'm so sorry that you can't see it too – the squealing, the giggling, the mixture of languages and in the midst of it all Jamie is the queen, the glamorous beautiful imperious pixie and they are at her feet ready for her slightest whim. Alexander spent the afternoon there and the way he and Jamie flung into each other's arms was one of those rare and beautiful moments – they really adore one another.

The trip was a
nightmare
! The Miami bit in spades – it was about 100 degrees, no sign of anybody from the Chilean airline, nobody knew where it was and when we finally found it they didn't know when the plane was leaving – we spent five hours in that fucking airport. The only air-conditioned place was the restaurant where we went twice but couldn't linger because the children got so restless. Anyway we finally were called in and found that part of the seating space was taken up with cargo! The flight itself wasn't bad except between Panama and the next stop we ran into a terrific storm and poor Jamie got sick. […] They both were marvelous though, never cried and were perfect lambs. Alexander once in a while would cry out “vamos a la calle” out of sheer desperation! It's just
too long
– absolutely the end of the world – plus they made more
stops than were bargained for so we arrived bedraggled, weary and worn at
midnight
– imagine!!

I think of you constantly and love you more than ever – Jamie talks about you all the time and said yesterday that she must write because poor Daddy was all alone. She looked out the window in the plane and said she saw a map below. […]

Chita's house is small but adorable with divine food which I've been gobbling up. Yesterday I had a full two course lunch then tea with all the trimmings and then went to Madeleine's for dinner at ten and gorged – it must be something in the air – it's nippy, but clear and sunny.

Following night
. Thank you for your darling cable which I got this morning. As you can see there's no chance of writing in the daytime – I took the children to Mamita this morning and they went crazy with the chickens, ducks, rabbits, turkeys, a dog and oranges which they plucked from the trees and ate on the spot. She is the darling of all time – so full of love and goodness, thrilled by the children, supplies them with fresh eggs every day and things that she grows – and she's getting old and sick and it breaks my heart.

About the “girls” I'll tell you in my next – they're marvelous. Madeleine especially has taken a great turn for the better – details later cause I'll never finish.

My darling do write – don't work too hard – tell me how everything is going with the show – if Grace is taking care of you.

As for me I'm bewildered and miss you so that it hurts. I think it's the incredibly depressing distance between us.

I do love you.

Felicia

My love to Helen and the Kats.

Darling,

The main news is that I love you and miss you, more than I could ever have known. It's all very well to talk about the salutary effects of periodic separations, and all that; but it's lonely in that big apartment upstairs, and everything looks different without my
people
there. Booze-hour isn't the same with anyone else, sleeping is particularly strange in one of two beds with the other unoccupied. I've managed not to eat alone once so far: that's no problem. But it's different, that's all. In fact, as I've discovered, it's the main difference there can be in living.

But there's little if any time to think about any of the above. The work grinds on, relentlessly, and sleep is a rare blessing. Jerry continues to be – well, Jerry: moody, demanding, hurting. But vastly talented. We start on the book Monday,
trepidation in hand; and the score is still not completed. At the moment the Problem is the usual one of the 2nd act ballet, which is finished, and will probably not work at all and be yanked and we'll have to manufacture a new one. It's going to be murder from here on in. My nights are all spent on work, so no fun at all. The only relief is dinner. Once at Ofra's (all goes swimmingly, and Shirley is still in the dark) – once with Lukas [Foss] (who missed you by a day, sends you great love, and was intuitive enough to ask Burtie “Are you in love? You seem dreamy and different.”) and once with Steve [Sondheim] and once with Debbie and once with George Schütz and once with [Kenneth] Shermerhorn, etc. etc. And once at the Ricordis. Last weekend was all work. No Stony Point. Maybe this weekend.

Last night was Martha [Gellhorn] night. She finally made it: and we talked in our customary natter for hours. How she loves you and knows you! And how she knows and loves our love (yours and mine). She finds my life ridiculous, of course, but finds me in better shape than ever, all of which she attributes to you, and rightly of course. I was telling her what a marvelous girl you are, how beautiful and bright and witty and wise, and she said: “But how did it take you so long to find out what is perfectly obvious?” Well, I always knew it; I didn't have to find it out; I just suddenly became
aware
of it, found myself able to experience it and share it, and just be plain grateful for it. I'm endlessly lucky in you, and lucky that you've been strong enough to stick out the bad times. You wonderful girl, you, with whom I am recently in love all over again.

I must run: Big Daddy calls. Big hugs & kisses for my two angels – and love to all the family. Write more & lots! You have time, I haven't! Have a glorious time – I kiss you.

L

19 July

Today is Helen's birthday. Do cable her. Grace quit – I have a fine new maid. Greetings to Rosalia & Julia.