Leonard Bernstein at 100

When I was a student at Peabody, a friend and I went to hear LB conduct the National Symphony at the Kennedy Center (all-Brahms, with Kremer and Maisky). We decided to go back afterwards to greet him. The usual throng, organized into a reasonably orderly queue. After a suitably intensifying wait, Bernstein entered; he began to go down the line, shaking hands, chatting a bit with everyone, generous as always. Suddenly he stopped, stared for a moment at a tiny old lady toward the back, rushed over to her, grabbed her in his arms (did he lift her up?), kissed her, turned to everyone else and shouted, "this is my Hebrew-school teacher!" He turned back to her and, still with her in his arms, began to chant a Haftarah (his own Bar-Mitzvah Haftarah?) to show he still remembered it perfectly, and it was perfect Ashkenazi cantillation. Ever since then I know how to phrase the 2nd movement of "Jeremiah".

I grew up in the era of his youth concerts and I lived in Cleveland. I attended what I believed was probably a tribute concert to Leonard Bernstein and I got close to him after the concert in the winter when he was in a very very heavy fur coat. I was very impressed. What a talented individual.

[Photo: Leonard Bernstein in rehearsal. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division . http://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/ppmsc.03255/]

On the evening of November 22, 1963, I was able to truly experience the depth of sadness that I was feeling in the hours after learning that President Kennedy had been assassinated in Dallas that afternoon.

Watching the non-stop TV coverage on CBS of the consequences of that awful event, I was fortunate enough to see and hear Leonard Bernstein conducting his New York Philharmonic in their memorial performance of Mahler's "Resurrection " Symphony. I was a 17 year-old high school student in the small south Louisiana town of Opelousas, never having heard a note of Gustav Mahler's music - but having seen and heard many of Bernstein's Young People's Concerts. From the first shocking string tremolo, through every wrenching note of this threnody, to the final soaring achievement of symphonic resurrection, I sat spellbound and weeping. I was overcome, but at the same time comforted by Mahler's and Bernstein's uncanny ability to evoke musically the mourning that until then I hadn't been able to understand fully or to express either to myself or to anyone else.

This Mahler performance was for me a revelation of the power of Mahler's musical vision. It was the kindling of a lifelong fascination with all of his compositions. Unfortunately, I never heard Leonard Bernstein conducting "live " in concert. But his unique artistry is alive for me. I have the hundreds of recordings by him in my digital collection, topped by the memory of the first Mahler performance he seemed to have conducted just for me. It remains etched in my musical soul.

My name is Gerald Robbins. I'm a classical concert pianist and member of the music faculties of Manhattan School of Music, Aaron Copland School of Music, Queens College, CUNY, and Hoff-Barthelson Music School in Scarsdale, NY.

In 1963, I had made the acquaintance of both cellist Gregor Piatigorsky and violinist Jascha Heifetz. I had recently won the Young Musicians Foundation Debut Award, in which Mr. Piatigorsky was honorary president of the Young Musicians Foundation in Beverly Hills, California. As the result of winning the Debut Competition, I was scheduled to perform the Beethoven Triple Concerto at the piano, together with Lawrence Foster conducting the Debut Orchestra in collaboration with my colleagues, violinist Toni Rapport, a student of Mr. Heifetz, and cellist Nathaniel Rosen, a student of Mr. Piatigorsky, who kindly coached us in the Beethoven in preparation for our performance.

On September 1st, 1963, Mr. Piatigorsky and Mr. Heifetz were scheduled as guest soloists to collaborate on the Brahms Double Concerto at the Hollywood Bowl with Leonard Bernstein conducting the Los Angeles Philharmonic. It was an all-Brahms concert that included the Academic Festival Overture, the Fourth Symphony, and the Double Concerto. It was a magnificent and unforgettable performance that remains in my mind as one of the greatest concerts I had ever attended.

But what made it so personally special to me at the end of the concert was that I was introduced to Maestro Bernstein by both Mr. Heifetz and Mr. Piatigorsky who had both heard me perform at the Debut YMF final concert, and who were to engage me soon after the competition to assist as pianist for their string Master Classes at the University of Southern California.

I had already so many wonderful childhood memories of Maestro Bernstein's television performances on CBS's Omnibus and the New York Philharmonic's Young People's Concerts, that I was so deeply thrilled to be introduced to him backstage by both Mr. Piatigorsky and Mr. Heifetz. Their wonderful collaboration together at the Hollywood Bowl still remains an unforgettably vivid and joyful memory.

Mr. Bernstein was so very warm, gracious, and encouraging to me in my future pianistic concert pursuits. Here is a link that was posted of that historic concert at the Hollywood Bowl. I hope it brings back to you, wonderful memories of Mr. Bernstein, Mr. Heifetz, and Mr. Piatigorsky: http://pastdaily.com/2013/08/21/jascha-heifetz-gregor-piatigorsky-leonard-bernstein-live-at-the-hollywood-bowl-1963-past-daily-mid-week-concert/

I recall rehearsing the Haydn Lord Nelson Mass with Bernstein as a choral singer in the Westminster Symphonic Choir, at one point he stopped and said: "This is such great music, I wish I'd written it!"

Steve Dyer was the concert and artist director for Baldwin Piano. Dear friend of Lenny's and ours.

What a wonderful memory I have. I was in London on holiday from my home in South Africa, arrived the day before and managed to get a last minute ticket for the Amsterdam Concertgebouw Orchestra with Leonard Bernstein conducting Mahler's 4th Symphony and for him to receive the Royal Philharmonic Society Gold medal presented to him by Sir Michael Tippet. I still have the program and even the review of the concert headlined "Bernstein's perfect partnership".

I now live in Toronto and know you will be at Koerner Hall on the 6th April 2018 so maybe can then show you the above!

I remember playing Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody no. 12 at the event the evening prior to the Museum of Broadcasting 'Leonard Bernstein: The Television Years' exhibit. The dinner/concert took place at the St. Regis Hotel in NYC in September 1985. As a result, Maestro Bernstein sent a letter of recommendation to Acting President Gideon Waldron at The Juilliard School toward a New York recital debut. I was honored as the third recipient of the Juilliard William Petschek Piano Debug Award in Alice Tully Hall on April 14, 1986. I am forever grateful to this generous and brilliant man.

From "The Luxuries of Unharried Time" by Webster Young, at Amazon.com books - part of a passage on meeting Leonard Bernstein:

"As I was trying to gather my wits, he said something completely unexpected. “Haven’t we met before somewhere?” I heard him say. He seemed very convinced that we had met, and I began to wonder about it myself. Finally I said, “No, I don’t think we have met, although you may have seen me at Juilliard when you gave the master classes in conducting and James Conlon was a student - I was a guest sitting at the back of the orchestra.”

During these moments I was realizing what a great human being he was. He seemed to take nothing for granted. He had complete respect for an artist in my position, believing that it was possible that I - or anyone who came to him as I had—might be important in the future. He communicated this in his very manner, with a sense of importance that we had met, and an artistic empathy for anyone who might have high aspirations in the arts. This is one reason he is so well liked and remembered in the world of music.

Though I was born a full seven years after Mr. Bernstein's death (almost exactly seven years), from the moment I heard the music as conducted by him (it was a Mahler symphony) I have been glued to the screen, watching everything which had been touched by his hands I could find, from his Young People's Concerts to the Harvard lectures and the magnetizing performance of "Tristan und Isolde".

To me, beside his obvious captivating personality, Bernstein showed a musical skill which is to me unmatched in recent history. I think Mr. Bernstein is not only the greatest conductor of the last century but also among the greatest composers that ever lived, revolutionizing form and content with "Candide", his Mass and basically everything else.

Though born after his death and therefore unable to possess a real memory of the man himself, I remember him as one of the chief influences in my entire life, not merely musically but in everything.
Life, had Leonard Bernstein not existed, would be unthinkable.

When my wife and were to be married in December 1994, she asked me what did I want my wedding ring to look like. I showed her a picture of LB's. 23 years later, I still wear it! HBD99LB!!

In 1989, I was studying Scenic Design at NYU's Tisch School of the Arts, under Oliver Smith.

One day, Oliver nonchalantly said,"When we brought Lenny up from Philadelphia...". I think we all took a collective breath when we realized he was talking about Leonard Bernstein and 'West Side Story'.

Needless to say, I think we all needed a minute to absorb the information, especially given the casual manner in which Oliver said it.

[Image: Mickey Calin, Ken LeRoy and dancers in "The Rumble" scene from the stage production West Side Story (set design by Oliver Smith) from the New York Public Library Digital Collections
https://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47e4-659e-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99]

I was 16-years-old when Bernstein was visiting my hometown of Houston, Texas to premiere his final opera "A Quiet Place." I tried everything possible to meet my musical hero.

Only, I wasn't counting on the fact that the only opportunity I'd get to meet him was at the Gay Men's Chorus of Texas barbecue swimming party. The assistant conductor had an invitation and knew I wanted to meet Lenny. I thought this was my only chance.

I saw Bernstein across the pool yard of the hotel with his cowboy hat, cowboy boots and his swimming trunks and big belly. I was swimming and was told he was heading in my direction. I got out of the pool and put out my hand to shake his and say: "Hello, Maestro ..." His hand went right past mine and he tweaked my tit. And he said: "titty tweakers of America strike!" And he turned and he walked away.

And that bizarre poolside encounter was the start of my conducting career. Once dressed, I plucked up the courage to approach Lenny again.

I waited around to finally get to talk to him. I told him I played in a rock band but was a serious musician and would love to study with him if possible. I don't know, maybe he just thought my curls were cute, I have no idea, but he said: "so, come tomorrow and we'll study a little bit'. It was that simple. And I have dedicated myself to his music ever since.

If I could have predicted the future and said: Maestro, in 25 years, I will be the one to premiere your Candide at Teatro alla Scala, he would have toasted me with his scotch, and said: "From your mouth to God's ears, and given me a kiss." And yet, 25 years later after that tit was tweaked, I did.

I first encountered Maestro Bernstein as an elementary school kid growing up in Metuchen, NJ, in the 1960's-we were incredibly fortunate to be brought to a Young Person's Concert once a year by the school system. No doubt those magical, sublime encounters were a big reason that I ultimately became a conductor and composer and teacher. As an undergraduate at Westminster Choir College in the 1970's, I vividly remember LB saying to us before performing the Beethoven 'Missa Solemnis', "If you are the same person after singing this tonight as you are right now, go back to Princeton, dig a hole in the ground, jump in, and pull the dirt in on top of you-you're already dead and you just don't know it yet." That kind of passion and overwhelming commitment to honoring the truth of the music with total focus and presence: that's the kind of musician Lenny wanted all of us to be, or become.

[Photo: Leonard Bernstein conducting at the Westminster Choir College from the Westminster Choir College Archives Photograph Collection. https://cdm15457.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p16471coll2/id/110/rec/9]

I had the good fortune to watch Bernstein conduct on several occasions.

One time that I will never forget was at Tanglewood. Midori was the soloist, performing a work of Bernstein's. Bernstein conducted with his typical dramatic flair. Midori, still quite young at the time, played so intensely that, twice, she broke the E string on her violin. The first time, the concertmaster handed her his violin; the second time the associate concertmaster did the same. Bernstein did not miss a beat; neither did Midori.

[Photo: Leonard Bernstein and Midori with the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood on July 26, 1986; Walter H. Scott/Courtesy Boston Symphony Orchestra Archives]

1970, Tanglewood. As a Fellowship student in violin, I was blessed to be playing in the orchestra for a phenomenal Bruckner 9th Symphony. From the very first moment he stepped on the podium, Lenny changed my life. I was so fortunate to be sitting in the 3rd chair of the first violin section, where I could watch his every move, every raise of the eyebrow. The opening notes were 'too loud, too loud.' We tried mightily to capture what he was asking for. Then he moved - barely - his little finger on his left hand. We crept in. 'That's it!' he cried. And we were off and running. Every note of that piece, everything Lenny taught us - not only about Bruckner, but about music and love and feeling and more - is ingrained in my memory and in my soul. He really believed in us, our youth, our talent. Thank you, Lenny, for these gifts you bestowed on us. We miss you and will never, ever forget your blessings!

[Photo: Leonard Bernstein conducts a rehearsal of the Tanglewood student orchestra. Boston Symphony Orchestra Archives http://collections.bso.org/digital/collection/images/id/839/rec/28]

As a child, I attended quite a few "Young People's Concerts", which Maestro Bernstein led in the early 1960's in his capacity as conductor of the NY Philharmonic. He made a lasting impression. I remember him at one concert describing Mussorgsky's "Pictures at an Exhibition" and evoking so vividly the vision of someone walking down the hall at a museum and looking at the paintings. As an adult, I had the opportunity to watch him conduct on numerous occasions but it was his ability to teach and connect with a young audience that has always stood out for me as one of his great talents.

On August 25, 1972, I sang "Happy Birthday, Lenny" as a child chorister to the Maestro during a rehearsal break of Carmen on stage at the Metropolitan Opera! Lenny of course was the conductor of this production and the entire cast, crew and staff surprised him with a large birthday cake. He was truly delighted and could not resist conducting our rendition of "Happy Birthday"!! He attempted to kiss all of us but was stopped because rehearsal had to resume. I received my kiss on opening night. Yes, Lenny kissed me!!

[Photo: A stage rehearsal of Carmen at the Met in September 1972 with Bernstein, stage director Bodo Igesz, Horne and stage director Fabrizio Melano. E. Fred Sher/Metropolitan Opera]

My father Leonard Burkat met his friend Lenny at Boston Latin school in band class in the 1930s. Even then my father said that Lenny was not like any other high school aged musician ever. There was something special that was obvious then. My father went on to write about music in thousands of program notes while his friend went on to write and conduct music. The two remained friends until Lenny's death and my father died about a year later, 25 years ago as of August 23, 2017.

My son Andrew acknowledges that Leonard Bernstein was responsible for his deciding at age 10 to become a conductor.

This is a story about another conductor. I suspect you may not know the profound admiration and respect in which Bernstein was held by one of the Soviet Union’s top conductors at the height of the Cold War. Yevgeny Svetlanov, Music Director of the USSR State Symphony Orchestra, was one of my closest friends. How I met Svetlanov and what he asked of me following Bernstein’s death could be a story from a Russian novel.

When Andrew was 9 years old, I was spending a lot of time on business in Canada. I had missed “Fathers Visiting Day” at Andrew's grade school three years in a row, and I promised him that no matter what I would be there next time. I was in my Winnipeg office the day before “Fathers Visiting Day” intending to take an evening flight home. My highly efficient secretary alerted me at noon that a massive blizzard blanketing the East Coast was forcing cancellation of all flights into New York. She booked me into Montreal by air with a seat on the overnight train to New York. I would get to Andrew’s school on time.

The train was delayed departing Montreal. Along with most other businessmen I found my way to the packed bar car. When we finally got under way, US Customs & Immigration officers came into the bar car and ordered passengers to return to their seats for Customs check. Everyone complied except me (I had just received my drink) and a table of men at the opposite side of the car. I noticed the Customs man getting angry with the men at the other table who seemed to ignore his orders.

I heard them speaking Russian and realized they probably didn’t understand a word of what the Customs man was saying. I speak Russian, am of Russian heritage, studied Russian at Yale. I realized it was time to be a Good Samaritan. I approached their table and asked in Russian if I could be of help.

They gratefully accepted, stating they were Russian musicians booked on a flight from Moscow to New York that had been diverted to Montreal due to the blizzard. They hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in a very long time, didn’t understand why the Customs man was angry, and only wanted to be able to finish their sandwiches. I assured the Customs man that I would look after them and help interpret when he made his inspection. He agreed to let us remain in the Bar car.

On the way back to their compartment they again assured me they were simple musicians with nothing to hide…..but that if somehow the Customs inspector did not open a small black satchel under one of their seats, it might be helpful. Hell of a dilemma. As luck would have it by the time the Customs man got to their compartment, he was dead tired, couldn’t care less, and perfunctorily stamped their passports without opening anything. My new Russian friends assumed that I had something to do with it, threw their arms around my neck, and thanked me profusely for trusting them. They then opened the satchel and showed me the contents: bottles of Stolichnaya vodka. They took the satchel back to the Bar car and proceeded to treat all passengers to Stoly for the entire ride to New York. The satchel was empty by the time we got there. Never had bonds of friendship been forged so quickly and easily. My new Russian friends were Yvegeny Svetlanov and the First Chair men of the USSR State Symphony Orchestra.

They had no idea where they were to be staying in New York. Their impresario Sol Hurok was an old friend of my parents. I called Sol, who breathed a great sigh of relief, not knowing what had become of his missing musicians. I then called my late wife Norma advising that we would be having some new friends over for dinner that evening.
When Svetlanov met Andrew, he said “Andryusha, I understand you play piano; play me something”. Andrew, even at 9, never had to be asked twice. Svetlanov commented: “Yes; Andruysha, you have talent, but talent is never enough. You must work! Scales and exercises! Who knows? Some day you may be a soloist with my Orchestra”
……But that’s another story for another time.

Suffice to note that from that day forward Svetlanov was never in New York without our getting together. Thanks to Hurok, the USSR State Symphony often toured here.
Svetlanov truly became like one of the family. I will never forget his first visit after the death of your father. He asked me if perchance I knew where Leonard Bernstein lived.
Your father had been living at the Dakota, a few blocks away from our home. Svetlanov said, “Please take me there. I want to sit on a bench across the street, silently communicate with him, let him know how much I love and admire him”. Which he did. But that was not enough. Svetlanov then asked if I knew where your father was buried. I drove him to the Green-Wood Cemetery. He placed flowers on the grave.

Politicians exploit differences. Musicians overcome differences.

When an occasional TV special was aired in the 1960's, it was indeed special. Watching a Leonard Bernstein special as a kid in black and white was seeing something you had never experienced before. Pre-Super Bowls and pre-Beatles, Leonard Bernstein was the first Rock Star I had seen on TV. Giving classical music to a prime time audience was unique for its time. He could connect with his ability to cross his music over to lovers of many different genres.

In the early-mid 1970s, I was a geeky, violin-playing kid whose #1 hero was Leonard Bernstein. Until I figured out that, unfortunately, I didn't possess the talent. I had plans to be the first female music director of the NY Philharmonic. I read every book on Bernstein, watched every TV show, owned every album I could of his compositions and his conducting. My room was full of his pictures, as was my violin case. And for 3 years, during a hard time in my life, I kept a journal, every entry of which was a letter addressed, "Dear Lenny."

In those letters, I told him everything that was going on in my life, and when my mother left my father for another woman, I told him that, too. I heard the rumors that Bernstein was gay as well, and while it broke my heart to think about his family because we were going through the same thing. There were times when I am 100% sure that what got me through the roughest days was writing those letters.

A lot of time has passed since then. But he is still my #1 hero. I still love (and have memorized!) every one of his compositions, and they have formed one of the most important constants of my life. It seems to me that since I was old enough to care about things, there was always Lenny in my life. I know he never knew about me, but I'm grateful to him for so many things--for the joy that Songfest and Mass, Kaddish and Serenade have brought me, and also for being there as a sounding board when I needed someone non-judgmental to "listen." Thank you always, Lenny. :-)

I met Leonard Bernstein at the final audition of Candide with Scottish Opera. I was a bit of a fan, and he was very gracious. I was amazed how emotional he was during the rehearsal and it was genuine. He was hearing some of his music in this opera setting for the first time, so it was understandable. John Mauceri did a wonderful job.

Tying into my major hobby in the early days of the web and since my knowledge had increased so much, I created a website called Arias & Barcarolles, The Leonard Bernstein Pages.

Four days after my ninth birthday, I heard on the radio that Leonard Bernstein died. I was sitting with my mother in the kitchen in suburban Chicago. When I heard the news, I asked her who Leonard Bernstein was, and I still remember her telling me with sadness that he was a famous musician in New York. I felt a strange and unsettling loss, like my own grandfather had died, without even knowing who the man was.

Later on in life, I listened to Leonard's recordings, read his biographies, watched his Young People's concerts and lectures, and came to know and love him almost like he was a friend. To me, he will always represent the passionate pursuit of expression and and a love for beauty in spite of the pain and tragedy of life. And in an increasingly coarse and vulgar world, Leonard Bernstein reminds me that art matters.