Adolf Busch: Letters, Pictures, Memories by Irene Busch Serkin; Russell StockmanReview by: Stephen LehmannNotes, Second Series, Vol. 49, No. 3 (Mar., 1993), pp. 961-963Published by: Music Library AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/898932 .

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Book Reviews Book Reviews

wear masks appropriate to the occasion, disguising parts of a "whole" personality, not always with the intention to deceive so much as to facilitate. However much Shos- takovich may have despised the regime un- der which he was fated to fulfill the whole of his productive life and to whatever ex- tent hatred of that regime may have fueled the fires of inspiration, he was surely much more than a simpleton, a Holy Fool, a Rus- sian yurodivy lamenting the "essential truth" about that regime in his music. Such a char- acterization, introduced by Volkov and em- braced by MacDonald, smacks more of ha- giography than responsible biography. But

wear masks appropriate to the occasion, disguising parts of a "whole" personality, not always with the intention to deceive so much as to facilitate. However much Shos- takovich may have despised the regime un- der which he was fated to fulfill the whole of his productive life and to whatever ex- tent hatred of that regime may have fueled the fires of inspiration, he was surely much more than a simpleton, a Holy Fool, a Rus- sian yurodivy lamenting the "essential truth" about that regime in his music. Such a char- acterization, introduced by Volkov and em- braced by MacDonald, smacks more of ha- giography than responsible biography. But

then, a responsible scholar eschews on principle data known to be skewed, no mat- ter how attractive it may appear in support of one or another pet hypothesis. Ian Mac- Donald, however, is a music journalist, and his New Shostakovich will undoubtedly pro- vide belated program annotators and hur- ried writers of recording liner-notes with grist to spare in turning out "creative" ex- plications of Shostakovich's music for de- cades to come.

MALCOLM HAMRICK BROWN Indiana University

then, a responsible scholar eschews on principle data known to be skewed, no mat- ter how attractive it may appear in support of one or another pet hypothesis. Ian Mac- Donald, however, is a music journalist, and his New Shostakovich will undoubtedly pro- vide belated program annotators and hur- ried writers of recording liner-notes with grist to spare in turning out "creative" ex- plications of Shostakovich's music for de- cades to come.

MALCOLM HAMRICK BROWN Indiana University

Adolf Busch: Letters, Pictures, Memories. Compiled by Irene Busch Serkin. Translated by Russell Stockman. 2 vols. Walpole, N.H.: Arts & Letters Press, 1991. [591 p. (continuous pagination). No ISBN. $33.50 ppd. (Available only from Arts & Letters Press, P.O. Box 101, Walpole, NH 03608-0101. Original German ed. also available.)]

Adolf Busch: Letters, Pictures, Memories. Compiled by Irene Busch Serkin. Translated by Russell Stockman. 2 vols. Walpole, N.H.: Arts & Letters Press, 1991. [591 p. (continuous pagination). No ISBN. $33.50 ppd. (Available only from Arts & Letters Press, P.O. Box 101, Walpole, NH 03608-0101. Original German ed. also available.)]

In 1933 Thomas Mann, after an evening in the company of Adolf Busch, described the violinist in his diary: "an extraordinar- ily appealing person, strongly opposed to the Hitler nonsense, in exile from Germany and yet 'the German violinist,' very com- forting, a kindred spirit" (Tagebiicher 1933- 1934 [Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer, 1977]: 209; my translation.) The attractive- ness of Busch's personality, his "German" seriousness and legendary integrity, as well as his charm and humor are fully in evi- dence in this magnificent collection. In- cluded are over 500 letters to and from Busch compiled on the occasion of the Busch centenary by his daughter, Irene Busch Serkin. Although there are a few short books on Busch, as well as reminis- cences scattered throughout the numerous memoirs of other figures, a full-length bi- ography has yet to be published. Unlike his brother Fritz, Adolf never wrote an auto- biography. These letters, then, fill a large gap. The first was written in 1906, when Busch was fourteen, the last a few hours before his death in 1952 at the age of sixty. Also included are over eighty photographs, an affectionate introduction by family friend Sir Ernst Gombrich, remembrances by friends, reproductions of concert pro- grams, family trees, a color reproduction of a Busch watercolor, as well as a reproduc- tion of a Paul Klee painting entitled "He-

In 1933 Thomas Mann, after an evening in the company of Adolf Busch, described the violinist in his diary: "an extraordinar- ily appealing person, strongly opposed to the Hitler nonsense, in exile from Germany and yet 'the German violinist,' very com- forting, a kindred spirit" (Tagebiicher 1933- 1934 [Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer, 1977]: 209; my translation.) The attractive- ness of Busch's personality, his "German" seriousness and legendary integrity, as well as his charm and humor are fully in evi- dence in this magnificent collection. In- cluded are over 500 letters to and from Busch compiled on the occasion of the Busch centenary by his daughter, Irene Busch Serkin. Although there are a few short books on Busch, as well as reminis- cences scattered throughout the numerous memoirs of other figures, a full-length bi- ography has yet to be published. Unlike his brother Fritz, Adolf never wrote an auto- biography. These letters, then, fill a large gap. The first was written in 1906, when Busch was fourteen, the last a few hours before his death in 1952 at the age of sixty. Also included are over eighty photographs, an affectionate introduction by family friend Sir Ernst Gombrich, remembrances by friends, reproductions of concert pro- grams, family trees, a color reproduction of a Busch watercolor, as well as a reproduc- tion of a Paul Klee painting entitled "He-

roic Fiddling" and dedicated to "the vig- orous, inspired playing of his friend Adolf Busch."

Most of the letters in this collection are between Busch and his family and col- leagues. In Busch's life, however, these two categories could prove remarkably perme- able: his brother Hermann was the Busch Quartet's cellist from 1930 onwards, and his colleague Rudolf Serkin became his son-in-law in 1935. Correspondents in- clude the conductor Fritz Steinbach, Chan- cellor Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg, Max Reger (whose letters are terse and em- phatic, full of underlining and exclamation points), Lilli Lehmann, Donald Francis Tovey, Volkmar Andreae, Arturo Tosca- nini, Ferruccio Busoni, Hermann Hesse, and George Szell. Much of the pleasure and poignancy in reading these letters lies in seeing the long sweep of a lifetime, its continuities and its vicissitudes. Still, some letters stand out for their musical content or human interest. Among them: Busch's bar-by-bar critique of Tovey's Violin So- nata (1913); Irene Busch Serkin's descrip- tion of her father's defense of Vladimir Horowitz, whom Toscanini had berated af- ter a concert for poor programming ("When Horowitz timidly asked Papi whether the piece was really so bad, Papi really let Tosca have it. Did he perhaps think Tedesco more beautiful? NO! Was

roic Fiddling" and dedicated to "the vig- orous, inspired playing of his friend Adolf Busch."

Most of the letters in this collection are between Busch and his family and col- leagues. In Busch's life, however, these two categories could prove remarkably perme- able: his brother Hermann was the Busch Quartet's cellist from 1930 onwards, and his colleague Rudolf Serkin became his son-in-law in 1935. Correspondents in- clude the conductor Fritz Steinbach, Chan- cellor Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg, Max Reger (whose letters are terse and em- phatic, full of underlining and exclamation points), Lilli Lehmann, Donald Francis Tovey, Volkmar Andreae, Arturo Tosca- nini, Ferruccio Busoni, Hermann Hesse, and George Szell. Much of the pleasure and poignancy in reading these letters lies in seeing the long sweep of a lifetime, its continuities and its vicissitudes. Still, some letters stand out for their musical content or human interest. Among them: Busch's bar-by-bar critique of Tovey's Violin So- nata (1913); Irene Busch Serkin's descrip- tion of her father's defense of Vladimir Horowitz, whom Toscanini had berated af- ter a concert for poor programming ("When Horowitz timidly asked Papi whether the piece was really so bad, Papi really let Tosca have it. Did he perhaps think Tedesco more beautiful? NO! Was

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NOTES, March 1993

Sibelius any better? NONO! ... Then how could he say anything when he himself did such crap. And off he went. Tosca didn't dare say a thing to Papi" [p. 343, 1935]); an account by Fritz Busch describing how he and Rudolf Bing snubbed Wilhelm Furtwangler at Glyndebourne (1937); ad- vice to Fritz on bowings and instrumenta- tion of Mozart's Adagio and Fugue (1937); Busch's descriptions of his reorchestration of Reger's Violin Concerto (1938); and a violin lesson that Busch puts to paper for a niece in Germany in 1946.

The most frequently represented corre- spondent, besides Adolf himself, is Fritz Busch, his brother and fellow-musician. His letters, like his autobiography (Aus dem Leben eines Musikers [Frankfurt am Main: Fischer, 1982]) show a considerable flair for writing, and his descriptions of musical life in Buenos Aires, where he conducted at the Teatro Colo6n for a number of years, are among the most amusing and vivid in the book. Fritz's relationship with Adolf emerges as a recurring and complex theme over the many years during which they (sporadically) corresponded. Fritz could be prickly and defensive towards his brother, and it is likely that at some level he was aware that he did not quite meet Adolf's highest standards. In a 1931 letter to Ser- kin, Adolf compares Fritz unfavorably to Toscanini: "To my mind, Fritz is the only other conductor of equal (if not superior) talent who demonstrates this degree of in- tegrity and courtesy ... but this kind of seriousness and this immense concentra- tion, and concentration solely on the music (not diffused by incidentals such as con- ducting technique, worry about precision if not worse, etc.) even Fritz doesn't have. Much as it saddens me to say so. At least not often. And rarely through an entire piece. You will understand what I mean" (pp. 273-75). Not only in his music was Adolf the less compromising of the two. In 1934, for example, after Adolf and his wife responded angrily to a German publisher who had signed his letter "Heil Hitler!", Fritz berates them for "making fools of themselves" (p. 302) and for their "petty behavior" (p. 303). To all this Adolf replies, assuring Fritz of his affection, but also of his convictions. In this same letter Fritz complains about his not being "particularly well liked in Jewish circles . . . and.. . [was]

frequently even harmed by the Jewish press" (p. 302). One cannot imagine Adolf Busch writing such thoughts, or having them.

The subject of most of the letters is, of course, music and the musician's life- arranging rehearsals, planning tours, set- tling fees, scheduling concerts, devising programs, discussing scores, assessing col- leagues, evaluating performances. In his dual career as soloist and chamber-music performer Busch pushed himself hard. In 1916 he estimates that he played ninety- four performances during the winter sea- son. (Yehudi Menuhin, who studied with Busch in Basel, writes in his autobiography that Busch gave between 200 and 250 con- certs a year, more than any other per- former he knew [Unfinished Journey (New York: Knopf, 1977): 102].) It was a brutal and exhausting pace, but a dazzling career, and it left his enthusiasm undiminished. In a letter written in 1915-he was still 23-he describes concertizing with Reger in Hol- land (and trying to get him to control his drinking), then on to Leipzig to play under Arthur Nikisch, then home to Vienna for a concert of Franz Schubert quintets, "the Ninth under L6we ... and in a week [Ar- tur] Schnabel is playing here with [the cel- list] Paul Griimmer and me, the Beethoven op. 70 (D major), the Brahms op. 8, and the Schubert B-flat major. We are really looking forward to it" (p. 122).

Letters from the early years of the First World War show Busch, who was ex- empted from service by a medical condi- tion, as a loyal patriot. Hitler was another matter. On 1 April 1933, the day of the "Judenboykott," Busch canceled all further concerts in Germany. The letter he wrote to the German concert agency in which he explains his action is a visceral and absolute rejection of Nazi anti-Semitism. It is also a very moving declaration of compassion for and solidarity with the German Jews. One needn't recall the careerism of Karl Bohm, Walter Gieseking, Herbert von Karajan, and Elisabeth Schwarzkopf to appreciate Busch's humanity and nobility. Still, it is important to remember how few non- Jewish German artists and intellectuals turned their backs on Nazism as unhesi- tatingly and emphatically as Adolf Busch. He immediately saw through the delusions of those who justified their staying: "Some

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Book Reviews Book Reviews

of them believe that if only they 'play along,' the atrocities and injustice that are part and parcel of the 'national' movement will be tempered, can be turned around, and in so doing they do not notice that they can only have a retarding effect, that the atrocities will still take place, only a bit later" (p. 288). He signs this letter "Georg Wilhelm," adding, "I no longer use my other first name" (p. 289).

Having settled in the United States in 1941, Busch struggled to rebuild his career and to create an appropriate vehicle in his new home for the kind of music-making that was his life's work (the Busch Little Symphony, a new Busch Quartet, the Marl- boro School of Music). As early as 1928 he complains of the difficulties of a musical career and asks, "What do you do, if you're not stupid enough to be a virtuoso?" (p. 260). Thirteen years later in America he writes, "People haven't yet fully recognized that one can play the violin so as to make music, and not simply so as to show that one can play the violin" (p. 416). And a few months later: "The virtuosos have ruined the country in this sense. Every young per- son tries if possible to play even faster or louder than the famous X, or Y, or Z, and thereby to deserve to earn even more money and have a more impressive career than his colleagues. That one masters one's instrument so as to make good and beau- tiful music is something that most of them still have to learn" (p. 427). Still, he writes, "here, just as much as anywhere else, the public yearns for good music and good art, and is happy about concerts with good pro- grams. So the work we do here ... is very satisfying, for the audiences are on our side" (p. 437).

The exuberance of the early letters, then, gives way over the years to a more somber

of them believe that if only they 'play along,' the atrocities and injustice that are part and parcel of the 'national' movement will be tempered, can be turned around, and in so doing they do not notice that they can only have a retarding effect, that the atrocities will still take place, only a bit later" (p. 288). He signs this letter "Georg Wilhelm," adding, "I no longer use my other first name" (p. 289).

Having settled in the United States in 1941, Busch struggled to rebuild his career and to create an appropriate vehicle in his new home for the kind of music-making that was his life's work (the Busch Little Symphony, a new Busch Quartet, the Marl- boro School of Music). As early as 1928 he complains of the difficulties of a musical career and asks, "What do you do, if you're not stupid enough to be a virtuoso?" (p. 260). Thirteen years later in America he writes, "People haven't yet fully recognized that one can play the violin so as to make music, and not simply so as to show that one can play the violin" (p. 416). And a few months later: "The virtuosos have ruined the country in this sense. Every young per- son tries if possible to play even faster or louder than the famous X, or Y, or Z, and thereby to deserve to earn even more money and have a more impressive career than his colleagues. That one masters one's instrument so as to make good and beau- tiful music is something that most of them still have to learn" (p. 427). Still, he writes, "here, just as much as anywhere else, the public yearns for good music and good art, and is happy about concerts with good pro- grams. So the work we do here ... is very satisfying, for the audiences are on our side" (p. 437).

The exuberance of the early letters, then, gives way over the years to a more somber

and perhaps less assured quality. Busch was not generally given to introspection in his letters, but on Fritz's fiftieth birthday he writes, "Although all sorts of things have happened already in our eventful lives, one always has the feeling that the main thing is still missing. That is my feeling about music-especially my own-but also about life. Only in my family ... do I feel 'con- tent' " (p. 400). He repeats these words-he says that he can't shake the feeling-in a letter, full of sadness, written six years later as his wife is dying. It is a haunting phrase, resonant of loss and exile. A second mar- riage, however, and the birth of two sons brought him a great deal of new happiness.

The German edition of the Busch letters, from the same publisher and at the same modest price, appears in one large volume, the English version in two comparatively thin ones. The English translation is ac- curate in both the details and the spirit of the original. Nonetheless, no one who reads German would want to miss the par- ticular, distinctive voices of Busch and his correspondents in their own language, the shifts in relationships as mirrored in the nuances of German formality and famil- iarity, and the humorous playing with lan- guage throughout, including, in the later years, the use of what was known among German refugees as "schonste language" ("das war anyhow zu spat" [p. 505 in the German ed.]). Making this profoundly rich and appealing document of the life and culture of Adolf Busch available to English- speaking readers, however-indeed, pub- lishing it at all-is a significant and gen- erous achievement, a labor of love and dedication, fully in the spirit of its subject.

STEPHEN LEHMANN

University of Pennsylvania

and perhaps less assured quality. Busch was not generally given to introspection in his letters, but on Fritz's fiftieth birthday he writes, "Although all sorts of things have happened already in our eventful lives, one always has the feeling that the main thing is still missing. That is my feeling about music-especially my own-but also about life. Only in my family ... do I feel 'con- tent' " (p. 400). He repeats these words-he says that he can't shake the feeling-in a letter, full of sadness, written six years later as his wife is dying. It is a haunting phrase, resonant of loss and exile. A second mar- riage, however, and the birth of two sons brought him a great deal of new happiness.

The German edition of the Busch letters, from the same publisher and at the same modest price, appears in one large volume, the English version in two comparatively thin ones. The English translation is ac- curate in both the details and the spirit of the original. Nonetheless, no one who reads German would want to miss the par- ticular, distinctive voices of Busch and his correspondents in their own language, the shifts in relationships as mirrored in the nuances of German formality and famil- iarity, and the humorous playing with lan- guage throughout, including, in the later years, the use of what was known among German refugees as "schonste language" ("das war anyhow zu spat" [p. 505 in the German ed.]). Making this profoundly rich and appealing document of the life and culture of Adolf Busch available to English- speaking readers, however-indeed, pub- lishing it at all-is a significant and gen- erous achievement, a labor of love and dedication, fully in the spirit of its subject.

STEPHEN LEHMANN

University of Pennsylvania

The World of Gene Krupa: That Legendary Drummin' Man. By Bruce H. Klauber. With an introduction by Mel Torme. Ventura, Calif.: Path- finder Publishing, 1990. [vii, 213 p. ISBN 0-934793-28-X (pbk.). $14.95.] Gene Krupa: His Life and Times. By Bruce Crowther. (Jazz Life & Times.) New York: Universe Books, 1987. [144 p. ISBN 0-87663-670-9. $10.95.]

Drummin' Men, the Heartbeat of Jazz: The Swing Years. By Burt Ko- rall. Foreword by Mel Torme. New York: Schirmer Books, 1990. [xvi, 381 p. ISBN 0-02-872000-8. $24.95.]

The World of Gene Krupa: That Legendary Drummin' Man. By Bruce H. Klauber. With an introduction by Mel Torme. Ventura, Calif.: Path- finder Publishing, 1990. [vii, 213 p. ISBN 0-934793-28-X (pbk.). $14.95.] Gene Krupa: His Life and Times. By Bruce Crowther. (Jazz Life & Times.) New York: Universe Books, 1987. [144 p. ISBN 0-87663-670-9. $10.95.]

Drummin' Men, the Heartbeat of Jazz: The Swing Years. By Burt Ko- rall. Foreword by Mel Torme. New York: Schirmer Books, 1990. [xvi, 381 p. ISBN 0-02-872000-8. $24.95.]

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