“audiences all over the world were fascinated…”

AS I KNEW HIM, 1970s-80s

 The most thrilling ARTIST, the one and only Leonard Bernstein!

The first time I saw Leonard Bernstein in person, was in Carnegie Hall in the early seventies. I was totally amazed and... amused. He was like a coiled spring on the podium or a dancer. At one point his feet left the ground as he leaped up in the air to make a splashing chord. I was not prepared for that!

One was either entranced under his spell and totally immersed in his incredible music-making, or alternatively appalled and disturbed by his excesses, both on and off the podium.

I was increasingly taken by Lenny, as everybody called him. By far, he was the most interesting human being that I ever met. It was indeed a privilege to make music together. There were many concerts. There were tantrums during the rehearsals. Some concerts almost fell apart, some were THE most beautiful of my entire life. THIS dichotomy was Lenny.

There was a sense of history in the making, of witnessing the creation of a legend.

During the last few years of his life, Lenny conducted us regularly. Those concerts were recorded and bear witness to the unforgettable music making. Listen to his Tchaikovsky symphonies, Francesca da Rimini, Romeo and Juliette, and above all to Mahler!

In Japan during the 1974 NY Phil Asia Tour, by chance I overheard my colleagues making reservations to spend our free day by staying at a Japanese Inn. I ended up at the Tawaraya Inn in Kyoto, and it was a memorable experience. Everything in my room  was at floor-level, including a pot of hot tea waiting for me. Also in my bathroom there was a deep bathtub filled with steaming water and covered with wood. I dipped my toe in it, and screamed from pain. This was supposed to be therapeutic relaxing bath?!

One of the Inn's guests turned out to be none other than the Maestro himself, together with Alexander, his son. I received an invitation for dinner in their suite. That was an evening to remember. At first Lenny –who just had a massage– was showing off his bare torso with his stomach pulled in and out (I took a quick snapshot). Then, as we were in the middle of sumo wrestling season, we watched and bet passionately on the famous champions of this traditional sport.

Finally the meal was to begin. There were maybe 10 men and only one female, me, present. The very low tables, set up  in a U shape, had the Maestro at its head. I was next to him, perhaps as a sort of official geisha responsible for his sake. The wife of the Inn’s owner, who was at the table, served us on her knees. Amazing! The feast lasted very long, and after more than ten dishes (and too much sake) I gave up and rolled back to my room.

“… actually jumping up!”

The Berlin Wall, 1989

For some forty years of my life, the existing political map of Europe was one of the unshakable pillars in my cosmos. The wars. The Second World War, ever-present in daily life, in ruins, in literature, in art, in conversations. Events were categorized as BEFORE or AFTER the War. TODAY we have no wars, people would never be so crazy again as to shoot at each other. “The ones who had started it, the Germans, lost and were neutralized.”

I grew up with two Germanys: Federal Germany, rebuilt at the highest world standards and “supervised” by the Allies (USA, France, England) and Democratic Germany under Soviet control. The city of Berlin was divided between the two, even though physically it was within the territory of East Germany. There were strict regulations as to the air corridor as well as highway passage to and from Berlin. East Germany was like the rest of Central Europe: under the domination of "Big Brother." Living conditions – or shall I say the privations – in East Germany were similar to those in Hungary, Czechoslovakia, and Poland. Yet East Germans did enjoy a slightly easier life, given that the upkeep of “German character” was supported by money pumped in by "Big Brother," in part to show off to the world, but also to create a barrier deterrent. Some sectors like sports, and to a degree the Arts, were flourishing under a level of state sponsorship unattainable in the West. Yet to prevent massive escapes in Berlin, a huge concrete wall was built and guarded day and night by barbed wires and armed guards. Many lives were lost in attempt to cross to the West.

In 1989, one after another country threw out their Communist regimes in bloodless revolution. The greatest political and cultural symbol of all was the fall of the Berlin Wall. I was part of that history making. An international orchestra and chorus was assembled under the initiation of Leonard Bernstein to perform Beethoven’s 9th Symphony in both the East and West Zones of Berlin. The soloists were American soprano Julie Anders, British mezzo Sarah Walker, Dutch tenor Jan-Hendrik Rootering and East German bass Klaus Konig.

We had gathered to rehearse for the first couple of days in Munich. Lenny flew in from London. He was tired after recording "Candide" and fighting the remnants of a bad flu. The 1989-90 flu epidemic was fatal for thousands of Britons and Bernstein was never fully able to recover either. With his emphysema, non-stop smoking, medical problems, and demanding lifestyle, he got progressively worse and died the next fall.

Lenny came a day late to the rehearsals. All eyes were on the Maestro when he walked on stage. He found me, a familiar face, and with the warm greeting "Hannele, the shoncheit!" promptly kissed me on my mouth. I confess my only immediate thought was “Great, now will I get the British flu too?!”

The orchestra constituted of musicians from both East and West Germany as well as representatives of the four Allies: USA, Great Britain, France, and the Soviet Union. We gathered as a great symbol of brotherhood: the concept of international musical partnership of that caliber was unthinkable even a couple of months earlier. I was one of the eight privileged ones chosen to participate (Thank you Zubin Mehta). The Christmas Day broadcast of the performance reached an estimated audience of 500 million viewers worldwide, from Japan, Hong-Kong, Singapore to New Zealand, Israel, Europe and USA in some forty plus countries.

History in the making. Unbelievable emotions. The energy and smell in the air. Innocent euphoria. Hope. Atmosphere of great change. Every couple of hours a breaking story is on the news, TV, Radio. Morning editions are outdated by the afternoon. One day, Bernstein greeted us in rehearsal with: "Hooray! Ceausescu fell without bloodshed!"

The first concert, in East Berlin at 11 AM on Christmas Day, was indescribable. Tears streaming down many faces! The impossible was happening! Bernstein himself was there! So was this International Orchestra! And the concert was going out live to millions.

The concert in West Berlin a day later was simulcast to a large crowd in the center of the city (Stephen Kirche) where 20 thousand people gathered and burst into dancing upon hearing Schiller's Ode to Joy. For this occasion, Bernstein changed the text from ode to “brotherhood” to ode to “freedom”! (Freiheit)

The air was loaded with spirit and hope. I took a walk along the wall, accompanied by the sound of hammering picks. Even the sound of hammering was its own type of music making.

In between the two concerts, we New Yorkers enjoyed Christmas Eve dinner with Lenny in a private room of the Kempinski Hotel. That was unforgettable! The Maestro read to us a poem that he wrote earlier that day. I had a long conversation with him about my father, spirituality, inner balance and peace.

These were two of the most important concerts in my life. I feel humbled and blessed to have been an active participant in History Making.

Serenade, after Plato’s Symposium

III. Eryximachus, the doctor – Presto