The Leonard Bernstein Letters (92 page)

Dear Lenny,

I received the copy of Rabbi Schindler's letter addressed to you and the note which you added to it.

Lenny, since 1934, I have been deeply involved in inter-racial affairs. I believe my credentials are quite adequate to demonstrate that for thirty-six years I have put my physical being, my professional standing, and my financial means on the line any number of times when the struggle for civil rights demanded it, and you know this.

When Felicia spoke to me, I suggested that the best way to handle the situation was to drop it.
¹⁰
Your friends will never question your motives, even if they do not agree with you. To defend yourself is totally unnecessary. Frankly, as your friend for all these years, and one who loves you deeply, I needed no letter explaining why you called a meeting in support of the Black Panthers. I know that you were motivated by the highest ethical imperatives, and you acted in a way that you thought just and right. I do believe, however, that you must give me equal credit for ethics and motivation.

I believe that the need to defend oneself is a necessity, if we are going to defend others. If those I personally defend would, in turn, defend me, then such a defense has a top priority in my scale of values. If, on the other hand, those who seek my assistance would, if they could, destroy me, then logically it would be a mistake to give such a group my special, personal assistance.

However, in order not to neglect out concern for all groups who are struggling to achieve civil rights, whether or not we agree with the philosophies of those groups, we should continue to support the American Civil Liberties Union, whose purpose it is to defend the rights of those who espouse unpopular causes.

At no time, since the Hitler holocaust, has the Jewish people been faced with the complexity of problems which now confront us. Both of us are wholly committed to the future and safety of our people, and I will not, under any circumstances, give special time and energy to strengthening those who are
outspoken in their avowed attempt to destroy me. Since Hitler, I take such “forthrightness” very seriously.

I will fight for the right of the Panthers to a just trial. I will fight to secure justice for them, as I would for any other group, but I will do so through channels which are already established for such purposes. Frankly, I would not open my home and ask my friends to make special contributions to their cause. This constitutes a difference of opinion. I honor you for your position, and I ask you to honor me for mine.

As for “lessons,” Lenny, as you know, it is not the lessons but the practicing that makes the artist. I have been practicing a long, long time, and I took my lessons when it was not so fashionable.

With my best wishes and kindest regards to your family.

As ever,

Judah

Dear Ingmar Bergman,

I have just talked with my good friend Humphrey Burton in England who tells me that he spoke to you about the possibility of our working together on a production of
Tristan und Isolde
. Even though Humphrey reported that you had misgivings I want to tell you personally how very much I would love the opportunity of our working together, particularly on a project as fascinating and challenging as
Tristan
.

The
Tristan
idea has been growing in my mind ever since Wieland Wagner asked me to do a production at Bayreuth, but there never was time during the years I was with the New York Philharmonic. Now that my time has become more flexible, I return to
Tristan
as one of the major projects I want to achieve in the near future. The idea would be to produce it at the Bayreuth Festival in 1973 and to record and film it thereafter. I realize that you may not be interested in staging the opera at Bayreuth but I can think of no one on Earth better suited for a free, fresh and “inner-directed” film version.

Could we talk about this? I will be going to Japan next month, then back in New York from mid-September through January '71. In early February I go to Paris for concerts and then generally around Europe and Israel until the end of April.

I am your profound admirer, and want to work with you!

In friendship.

Leonard Bernstein

P.S. Of course, if you were interested in the Bayreuth staging as well, that would be a more than welcome bonus.

Dear Steve,

These balls are not meant to symbolize any contribution to your testicular powers. They are simply beautiful carpet-balls (
bocci
, I believe), and when I saw them I knew they had to be for you. So Merry Xmas!

As for your gifts, I bless you for the
Listener
book, thank you for the
Company
record, and adore you for the gum-machine.

Happy 1971, and have a glorious
Follies
!

Love,

Lenny

Dear H,

The Paris concerts went gloriously, finally, in spite of all kinds of problems:

1) my usual Parisian diarrhea, really bad this time, 2) a cut thumb, 3) a bad back, 4) the failure of the Berlioz material to arrive until the last day of rehearsal (sent to wrong address!) so that I had to use
their
material which was full of errors, had no rehearsal numbers or markings or anything. A nightmare, necessitating hours of extra work & fatigue for orchestra & conductor. But finally all was well, with audiences screaming & happy.
¹²

Rehearsals here go beautifully: I seem to be playing most of the notes of the Ravel,
¹³
& my stomach, back, thumb, etc. are very well indeed. Tonight I'm even going to the Opera Ball!

I've received both your letters, with enclosures (sad about Ethel L[inder] R[einer],
¹⁴
horrid and shocking about Debs Myers!).
¹⁵
Very pleased at your progress report on the dictaphone – brava!

I'm feeling better than I had expected – all is well.

Love to all, & to you,

L

Mine Hilee,

Strange, but everything seems to be going well, & better. Or, as they say here (pure Annie M), es geht
gü-at
. Paris (as always) was a bit of a trial – the trots in spades, the back, the cut thumb, the usual list. But great concerts, and now Vienna – why, I even drink the tap water! Back great, thumb prima, stomach glorious (or as glorious as my Tumburger can be).
And
the concerts are, so far, tops. Sunday I think I conducted one of the really best ones of my life – including playing the Ravel. It was fleed, my dear,
fleed
.

But you, mine ape, have you vot to do, vot to eat? I worry about you. How about a letter telling all. Find out my tour schedule from Felicia, & send me a letter. Simple. A.B.C. We leave on tour Sat. a.m. for Munich. Back in Vienna 13th March for a Unicef benefit, then off for another week, then back here for three more weeks. Schreib!

And love to Mither when you talk to her.

I hug it upon you.

L

I do a March [?] every day,
plus
the London Times,
plus
an occasional Telegraph, etc.
¹⁶
So you see, my time is well spent, intellectually.

Dear Helen,

Life is not too kind to me at the moment: I left Vienna a wreck and went straight to Eilat for some days of sun and sea – my first four free days in months.
Well, there was no sun, no sea – only stormy weather, nothing to do but watch the mindless hippies on the beach. Very lonely. I came back to Tel Aviv early – same bad winter weather. We had our first rehearsals yesterday – the orchestra is in fine form, but I'm not. I'm depressed most of the time, and longing to get home.

I've been worried at not finding any mail from you here. I hope you're all right, and that your brother is not causing you too much anxiety. My mother seems to be enjoying herself, although her activities are necessarily limited.

Today is again a free day, and I'm spending it mostly in bed. It's storming outside. What a non-holiday! People here can't remember such weather at Pesach-time in years.

Please call Dr Gaylin
¹⁷
and ask him if he can reserve some time for me the week of May 3rd. I should be back on the 3rd. I have a dentist appointment that day which will have to be cancelled. […]

Everyone asks for you – with affection – Katia, etc.

Be well, and let me hear from you.

Much love,

L

Hey, Dadz!

A quiet, pleasant Sunday eve in rainy Cambratch … I stayed here this weekend, cause I've been in New York over Spring break for a week and a half. This was my first week back, in which I had a paper due Monday, a paper due Tuesday, and a paper due Wednesday, for God's sake. So this past week has been an incredible hassle, and this weekend was blissfully uncluttered. Friday night: two girlfriends and I went out and had a deliciously sickenening (whoops!) Italian dinner, after which we played gin rummy and watched C movies on television. Saturday: zero. Slept till twelve (for the first time in months), ate, had a nap, ate, did some leisurely reading.
Then
Jane Weeks, some other people and I decided to go and see the Russian Easter service, cause we'd always heard how beautiful it was, and Mummy had just given us a big pep talk about it, so we decided to go to the Russian Orthodox Cathedral on the Fenway. Well … it sounded good. We got there, and damned if it wasn't a
modern
church! Oh, God, were we disappointed! Where were the onion domes, the gold? Just wood and plaster and a gold-plated gaudy chandelier with flickering red electric
“candles”. […]
No seats
! Hundreds of
ugly
people, badly dressed, very upper middle, very reformed Jewish in a funny way. So okay, there we all were, waiting for the fireworks, and out comes this little dumpy priest in an ugly ill-fitting robe, and starts mumbling most unmusically.

And then the chorus opened their mouths. AAAAAAUUGGHHH!!!! Good
God
! That poor chorus must have been made up of volunteers out of the congregation, I guess, because it really was indescribable. I never did figure out what key they were in.

So we split. No offense to the Russians,
but
, as Nina would say, but gee whiz …

We dropped someone off in Harvard Yard, got back on to Mass. Ave., and
the car stalled
. So we all have to get out and push the car down Massachusetts Avenue at one thirty in the morning like a bunch of Keystone Cops! Oh, God, it was funny. Anyhow, that was Saturday. Today I got up at one, ate, read the paper, went to the library for a while, ate, watched
The Wizard of Oz
on TV, and now here I sit, tapping away and watching a Diana Ross (of Supremes fame) special. As I said, a quiet, pleasant Sunday eve.

Bruce couldn't come up this weekend; he had to go down to Etlontik City to visit his dying grandfather. Oh, dear God, I know what he's going through. Otherwise Bruce is in pretty fine shape. […] I've been going through some strange changes lately, and I've been a big pain in the ass some of the time, and boy, Bruce was so patient. He has his bad days too, God knows, and then I have to be patient. And sometimes we both run out of patience, but love ain't a bowl of latkes.

Bruce leaves on June 3 for his summer job in England. And guess what?! Mummy said I could travel this summer, and stay with Anya, and the Smiths, and stuff like that. OBOY!!! SUMMER!!!!!!! I can't wait. And the bestest part of all is going to be those few weeks when I don't have to do
anything
but sit in the country and swim and play tennis and read what I
want
to read, and lie in the sun and see my friends in New York … oboy, is that ever going to be loads of fun. And then when I get to England, I can see Bruce, and I even got invited to West Pakistan by Pinkie Bhutto,
¹⁹
and if you've been keeping up on your current events, you'll know that Pinkie's father
²⁰
is the Alessandri of West Pakistan. Far out! I'd
really
like to go, and see what the vestiges of the Arabian Nights look like. Hey Daddy … you think you can get yourself invited to Red China to conduct? Boy, that's the place I want to go to more than anywhere else.

Well, it being eleven and all, I think I'll get a head start on this week and go to bed early. Say a big
Hello, Grandma
to Grandma. I hope she's grooving on her
trip, man, and I sure hope you feel better yourself. Anyhows, see you soon. Hurry back; I can't remember what you look like already!

Love and kisses,

Jamie.

P.S. I got into Adams House, in case I lived here next year. Eliot House is a most unpopular house these days: all preppies and jocks. Were you one of those? I think if you were going here now, you'd be in Lowell House. Adams House is where all the hippies are. Birds of a feather spoil the broth, I always say … J

Dearest Lenny,

What can I say? Nothing but to hug and embrace you to express my feelings concerning
your
superb
Mass
. You are such a genius that with you I am speechless with admiration and humility.

To work on this project was a rare privilege.
²²
Thank you deeply for making this possible.

All my love,

Oliver