Dear Mr. Bernstein

What do crockery and sweat have to do with the history of classical music? The answer lies with its fans.

Meet hosts Dr. Kate Guthrie and Dr. Flora Willson as they discuss why we need to talk about classical music fandom. 

We share stories of fandom from our own lives. We tell the story of how Leonard Bernstein, the composer of West Side Story, became the most famous classical music star of his generation. And we reveal how the thousands of fan letters he received ended up in DC’s prestigious Library of Congress.

We discuss the wackiest letters from the archive, including one from a group of nuns who had created a Bernstein-themed table-setting for a competition; one from a couple who wanted to own a piece of Bernstein’s crockery; and another from a listener who thought Bernstein was too sweaty.

Finally, meet letter-writer Cheryl Melody Baskin, who describes her surprise at being reunited with a letter she sent to Bernstein over 6 decades ago.

Visit www.dearmaestro.org for bonus content, including letters read-out and discussed by their writers.

Email us at hello@dearmaestro.org - we'd love to hear from you!

Producers: Rowan Bishop and Kate Guthrie

Hosts: Flora Willson and Kate Guthrie

With thanks to: Cheryl Melody Baskin, Michael Ellison, Cassandra Fenton, Mark Keedwell, Melanie Shaffer, Karen Skinazi, Chuck Talley and Justin Williams. 

Funded by: the Arts and Humanities Research Council.

Transcript

[Music]

Kate Guthrie: Hi, I’m Dr. Kate Guthrie.

Flora Willson: And I’m Dr. Flora Willson.

Kate: And this is Dear Maestro, the podcast where we explore the untold stories of classical music fandom throughout the 20th century. We’ll discover how classical music lovers and pop music super fans maybe aren’t so different after all.

Flora: In this first episode, we’ll be giving an overview of what to expect from this series, as well as introducing Bernstein himself, and giving you a taster of some of the incredible fan letters we’ve pulled from the archive.

[applause]

Flora: All right, Kate, so why are we actually here? What are we doing?

Kate: We’re here to rethink the history of classical music.

Flora: Oh, just a small aim, then.

Kate: Just a small aim. And to rethink it from the perspective of everyday listeners. So I think when the history of classical music’s been told traditionally, it’s always had the composers, the musicians, and the critics right at the heart of it. And that’s fine, and it makes a lot of sense, right? These are the people that we all look up to, who we hold up as the creative geniuses. But I guess it misses out a really important part of the story who are the people that they were writing and playing for.

Flora: It’s true. Thinking about all the time I spent studying music and all the time I’ve spent as a researcher, I mean, I’ve spent very little time thinking about audiences, really, if I’m honest. Presumably, you’ve had much the same experience?

Kate: Yeah, absolutely. And I think when we do talk about audiences as academics, we’re usually talking about critics writing in newspapers. 

Flora: And they’re not normal audience members, let’s face it. 

Kate: Not at all. So I think really the history of this project that I’ve started goes back to … really to my undergraduate degree, actually. And I rocked up at Cambridge, you know, all new and nervous and excited about, you know, what I was going to learn. And very quickly into my first year, I realised that the history that we were being taught of the 20th century in particular didn’t match up with my experience of having been a person who lived in the 20th century.

Flora: We were there!

Kate: Well, exactly. You know, and I played the violin and I loved playing in orchestras and singing in choirs and, you know, all that music that fuelled my own love for music basically wasn’t on the syllabus at all. We were just learning about all this sort of esoteric modernist music, which I know does float some people’s boats, but definitely wasn’t my cup of tea.

Flora: And presumably, also, if your experience was anything like mine, you didn’t spend very long talking about the music you loved and about loving music? You weren’t really allowed to be a fan in that space?

Kate: No, absolutely not. I think there’s a real taboo in academia about talking about why you love classical music. And if you are going to talk about the music, you know, the kind of legitimate way was in this very analytical, you know, ‘Oh, we’ll pull this bar apart and see what the chord is. And then what chord do we have 5 bars later? And how do they relate?’ Which sure – it gives you a sense of how the music works; but I don’t think it captures that emotional thing, you know? Like when, yeah, you have like a piece of music that just hits you and, you know, going through doing an analysis of the harmony and the chord progressions, is not really gonna…

Flora: Doesn’t quite capture it, does it? 

Kate: No, not at all.

Flora: I mean, that’s why we’re here. I mean, I think that’s why we’re both here in this room right now – because we love this music that we’ve ended up studying. So where does Bernstein come in?

Kate: So, at some point, I discovered that there is a huge archive of fan mail included as part of Bernstein’s archive in the Library of Congress, DC. When I discovered this, I thought that it was the only such collection in the world. I’ve actually realised, as I’ve begun this project, that there are loads of these collections that exist. It’s just that no one writes about them because they’re not the music critics and the performers.

Flora: So hang on a minute – so there are collections all over the world of fan mail sent to famous people?

Kate: Yeah, letters that people have sent to famous people. But the Bernstein collection, I think, is a bit exceptional because my impression is they kept absolutely everything. There’s hate mail. There are really boring, perfunctory ‘Dear Mr. Bernstein, can I have an autograph? Thank you very much. Goodbye’ type letters. There are telegrams, which, you know, capture a lot of sentiment, but in an incredibly perfunc… you know, it’s like a tweet, isn’t it? It’s like a word limit. So yeah, so, my impression is, you know, they really kept the whole gamut of mail that he got. And I think that makes it a particularly rich starting place for this question about, you know, everyday listening and what classical music meant to people.

[music]

Flora: Alright, I think it’s time to get personal before we go any further with this. So have you ever been a fan of anything? Is that part of what’s going on here? 

Kate: Have I ever been a fan of anything? So I guess I am a classical music fan. 

Flora: I don’t think that counts in this context.

Kate: I was also a big fan of the Beatles growing up. 

Flora: Ah, now it’s coming out! 

Kate: Yeah. So, I guess, you know – and this sort of fits with the classical music fan image, doesn’t it? – that I was a bit out of touch with my peers in general. You know, they were all off dancing to the Spice Girls. And I remember another friend had a, you know, massive picture of Hanson on her wall, and I was like, ‘Who are these people?’

Flora:  Ah, the days of ‘MMMBop’!

Kate: Yeah, I know. But, meanwhile, I was merrily listening to, you know, these 1960s hits. And I remember, actually, even when George Harrison died, and my mum, who is a reader of The Times, told me that he died, and I cut his obituary out of The Times and blue-tacked it to the cupboard in my bedroom. So, which is quite, I mean, it’s a bit embarrassing…

Flora: That’s very special.

Kate: …looking back. What about you? 

Flora: Well, you see, I think I was even less cool than you were in this respect, ‘cause I wasn’t cool enough to really be a proper fan of anything. But I will admit, so when I was a child, probably until I was about 11 or 12, I was completely obsessed with the Swallows and Amazons books – you know, the Arthur Ransome series.

Kate: Aw, yeah!

Flora: I was obsessed enough that I went on little sailing courses for kids. I wanted to learn to sail so I could be like them. I even had a name – and no, I’m not gonna share it – which I insisted that I was called by all my friends for a couple of years because ‘Flora’ didn’t seem like a very good pirate name, and I wanted to be like Nancy or Peggy in Swallows and Amazons. So I had to find a more androgynous name. So yeah, I was really obsessed. But, yeah, rather like you, I went into my friends’ bedrooms and, you know, saw the posters, you know, the George Michael posters and all the other things that they had, and I was like, ‘Oh, that’s interesting. Yeah, I’m not like that’.

[music]

Flora: Let’s talk a bit more about Bernstein himself because, I mean, he … he was a really, really major figure in 20th-century culture very broadly, wasn’t he? This isn’t just about classical music, actually?

Kate: No, absolutely. So I was thinking back through my own history with Leonard Bernstein, as it was, and I realised that I actually – and I think this is the case for a lot of people – I was aware of things that he’d written before I even had any sense of him as a person.

Flora: Mm. 

Kate: I remember that one of my school friends, when we were teenagers, used to walk around the classroom on, like, bad teenage morning singing, ‘I feel shitty! Oh, so shitty!’ You know, and I don’t think at the time I had any awareness that this was a song that had been written by Leonard Bernstein. But I knew the tune, you know. And, of course, that particular rendition cemented it in my memory.

Flora: I think loads of us will have come across Bernstein first via West Side Story. That was certainly for me, as well, which is where ‘I Feel Pretty’ comes from. I mean, I think my school choir sang a kind of medley from it, and I didn’t really know anything else about it at that point. But I just loved the music. And then when I eventually got to see the film, I was like, ‘Wow, this is incredible,’ long before I got into opera or any of the other things that I then have gone on to study since.

Kate: Yeah, and I think, I mean, this is very much true for a lot of people in you know, mid-20th century America, as well, right? And, you know, ultimately, he goes on to become a TV celebrity, and there’s a whole classical music story there that we’ll be unpacking. But, you know, before that’s happened, he has this hit on Broadway, and, you know, that’s it: everybody knows his name.

Flora: Was he already established as a conductor, as well, by then? ‘Cause he has this kind of amazing multifaceted career, doesn’t he?

Kate: Yeah, I mean, the most phenomenal amount.

Flora: Did he ever sleep? 

Kate: He … so his conducting break comes in 1943. And certainly in the classical music world, I mean, this was something everybody was talking about. And, you know, the story goes that Bruno Walter, who was then conductor of the New York Philharmonic is suddenly taken ill at the last moment, and Bernstein is called up. You know, ‘There’s a concert tonight we desperately need you to come and conduct’. Basically, ‘You’re on’. And so, you know, no time to prepare properly, and he’s rushing around, and he goes and he does this absolutely sensational performance, and, you know, the critics go wild. He’s all over the papers. And, I mean, in terms of his conducting career, you know, this is like the big break. So West Side Story is 1957, so, you know, he’s already been well established as a conductor, by the time that comes along.

Flora: What about as an educator? Because he became so widely known in the US, at least, didn’t he? It was television appearances that he was doing, wasn’t it?

Kate: Bernstein’s rise to international fame really coincides with the birth of television as a medium in the United States. And globally, in fact. So, you know, across that period, as he is establishing himself as a conductor, becoming a big name on Broadway – there’s also the movie – first movie – of West Side Story, in 1961 – so all of these things are going on. At the same time in conjunction with that, people are starting to put televisions in their homes, and Bernstein starts to make these appearances on television. Initially, he’s on the Omnibus series, which were … I guess they were, like, sort of educational programmes that were done in a way that was supposed to be like accessible and engaging for a wide audience. And they’re so successful that they go on to do this series of Young People’s Concerts. And that, I think – the Young People’s Concerts – are the reason that many, many of that generation of Americans know his name. 

[music]

Flora: I’ve got to ask about the film Maestro. You surely must have seen it, as I did, when it came out a couple of years ago? I mean, the Bernstein we see in that film, as portrayed by Bradley Cooper, has such charisma. Like, he’s like, yes, this makes sense of why people would just be flocking to him as fans. Is that actually true to life, do you think?

Kate: Absolutely. I was re-watching some of the early episodes of the Young People’s Concerts, many of which are available on YouTube. And, you know, there’s this amazing shot where you have … you have to imagine the camera sort of in the middle of the orchestra looking towards Bernstein, and he’s there with his arms out wide, almost like a kind of Jesus-on-a-cross type pose. And behind him is the dark auditorium. You know, he’s just like God. He is there commanding the entire orchestra. He is commanding the entire audience. His charisma just overflowed into, you know, the way that he was presented on television.

Presenter: And here is Mr. Bernstein. 

[applause]

Bernstein: My dear young friends, today, we’re going to talk about the meat and potatoes of music, the main course, which is melody. What is music anyway, except sounds that change and move along in time? And that’s practically a definition of melody, too. Well, if that's true, then it's almost impossible to write music that doesn’t have melody in it.

Flora: You mentioned there’s this archive where you actually found these letters. I should come right out now and say I’m actually a huge fan of archives. I realised, as I was thinking about this conversation today, I’m utterly obsessed by a different archive. So what was it like finding these letters and doing the archival work you’ve been up to?

Kate: Absolutely amazing. I think there’s something about holding physical documents from the past that really, you know, we were talking about emotional connections and music. I mean, I think I experienced that same thing when you pick up a document, and you’re like, ‘Wow, this is like an actual thing somebody wrote.’ And the scale of the collection is also astonishing. So in the Library of Congress, there’s, you know, the incredibly glamorous main reading room, you know, which is all sort of gold, and you feel like you’re in some great public, stately institution. Behind the scenes where the materials are actually kept is much more like a traditional storage facility. And there are, I mean, literally row upon row upon row. I mean, it’s endless, you know, all with their complicated cataloguing systems. And the Bernstein material itself is cases and cases of, you know, of materials. So, you know, it’s quite incredible the scale of the collection. 

Flora: And is it mainly letters? Or actually is there a lot of other stuff that he was sent as well?

Kate: So his collection includes, I mean, pretty much everything you could imagine. There are scores. There are photographs. There are contracts, you know, minutes relating to the New York Philharmonic. I mean, it’s the whole gamut of stuff.

Flora: Okay, his entire life, his musical life is just there.

Kate: Absolutely. And was meticulously kept and catalogued. Yeah, I mean, I think the thing about the letters, you have to remember, at this point in time, that America is really a postal society. We’ve lost sight of this now because social media and the internet have kind of wiped letters from, you know, day-to-day life. You know, it was how people communicated in businesses. It was how they communicated with their family and friends. So people are writing letters. It is a postal democracy. It’s not expensive to post letters and it’s how people communicate.

Flora: And are they mainly handwritten? I mean, were you having to make out reams and reams of kind of scrawly handwriting, or are people typing them? Or what are they like to look at?

Kate: People are really diverse, aren’t they? And I think that comes out in the letters. Some of them are borderline illegible. Some of them have come from all other parts of the world in languages I can’t read. You know, there are letters in Hebrew, letters in German, letters in Italian, Spanish, French. I mean, there are also, like, completely kitsch Christmas cards, people sending, like, holiday snaps from, you know, their family time away together. 

Flora: People really are just … they’re sharing their lives with him.

Kate: Absolutely. 

[music]

Flora: Okay, so crunch time. What’s the weirdest thing in there?

Kate: The weirdest thing that I’ve come across so far I think probably has to be the letter with the Bernstein table setting, which I just thought…

Flora: Ok, explain?

Kate:…utterly bizarre. So, this was a letter sent from some nuns and their novices.

Flora: It gets better and better! 

Kate: And they’d had a table setting competition in, you know, the place they lived, and they decided to do a Bernstein-themed table setting.

Flora: I think we just need to take a moment here. This is insane! This is completely crazy! When was this? Was this the ‘60s, when everyone else was partying? The nuns are having a table setting competition?

Kate: Absolutely! 

Flora: Am I right in thinking you’ve actually got a photo of this extraordinary event, Kate?

Kate: Yeah. So when they wrote to Bernstein, to thank him for the information that he sent, they included actually two photos – one of the nuns and their novices standing around the table and another of the table setting itself. 

Flora: Oh my God! Okay, so this is like a polaroid shot at a weird angle. I mean, Hitchcock would have been proud of this. And there’s this bright pink tablecloth with the table settings on. This is so kitsch!

Kate: Yeah! So their colour scheme was jet black, deep rose, whites and greys, which I think you can see captured very clearly in the photograph here. And then, obviously, the nuns are dressed in their more formal black and white attire.

Flora: Oh my goodness! This is … I can’t believe this happened. Alright, I think we’ve talked about this enough. Let’s actually hear some of this letter.

Actress: Dear Mr. Bernstein, We are so pleased to be able to tell you that our Bernstein table setting won second prize in the contest. Your cooperation in complying with our request in this regard certainly helped to bring out such splendid results. We want you to know that we are truly grateful. Enclosed are two pictures of the table setting from which you may get at least an idea of our arrangement. It would have been most delightful to have had you visit us during the concert week, but we know your time is not always your own. Our sincere thanks for the pictures you sent. Needless to say, your prompt answer was most encouraging and gave us a neighbourly feeling. May the good Lord bless and keep you as you go on making your own life and the lives of countless others a symphony of joy and peace.

Flora: Oh my goodness! So Bernstein actually helped them out with this.

Kate: Yeah.

Flora: He’d been in touch with them already.

Kate: So one of the things that most people don’t know about Leonard Bernstein is that he was actually really devoted to responding to his fan mail. So his son Alexander told me that every single week Helen Coates, who was his personal secretary, would come round to their family home with a pile of fan mail, and they would sit down and go through it together. If people wanted an autograph, she’d have bought the requisite number of photos for him to inscribe with a person’s name on it – ‘to whoever you are from Leonard Bernstein’. But, you know, and if the letters were more complicated or had … you know, if the letters made bigger requests or asked questions, he would form an answer together with Helen Coates who would then take that away, and she was responsible for them replying to. 

Flora: Gosk, so it was a proper little industry basically that he had going. I guess this is industrial scale fan mail, though, isn’t? 

Kate: Absolutely! But it is incredible. I mean, you think about just how many different pies he had his fingers in – you know, the conducting, the television… I mean, he was doing so much stuff. And, you know, on top of all of that, to have made this kind of regular commitment to reading and responding to his fan mail I think really shows his own personal commitment that he had to his audiences, whom he genuinely loved.

Flora: Talking of pies, there is actually a menu for this lunch that the nuns held as well, isn’t there? 

Kate: There is.

Flora: Tell us about that.

Kate: So the menu featured a ‘prelude cocktail, baked lobsters, staccato salads, beats polonaise, pumper nickel and rice slices and brilliante cake’. So they’ve taken some kind of musical themes there.

Flora: That’s incredible. So, to go back to the big questions guiding your actual kind of – the serious research you’re doing on this project –  what kind of stuff can you get out of material like this? Like, how is this helping you to rethink the history of 20th-century music?

Kate: So I think one of the things I find really interesting about this letter is the way it highlights classical music’s kind of embeddedness in everyday life, right? So we’re outside of the concert hall, we’re outside of, you know, kind of formal institutional environments. And you see classical music kind of inspiring people in these really weird and wonderful ways. But I guess, fundamentally, they’ve looked to Bernstein and to his music as a way of making some meaning in their life, right? This is something that’s inspired them, they feel sufficiently motivated by him that, you know, they want to do this table setting in his honour. And I think, you know, it’s that kind of sense of a personal connection. One of the things in the letter, actually, that really, again, I think, really speaks to this is this comment about, you know, ‘it would have been most delightful to have had you visit us during the contest week’. I mean, this idea that Bernstein is going to fly, you know, halfway across the United States of America to come and look at a table setting somebody’s made… 

Flora: It’s fantastic! I love the idea that kind of they imagine he would have been there if only he hadn’t been quite so busy. 

[music]

Flora: I know you’ve got some other unusual requests that Bernstein received in today’s mail bag. So, what have we got next?

Kate: One of the really common things in the fan mail collection is people writing for autographs. This is about the most common thing that people write to request from Bernstein. The most extraordinary request that I have come across was a couple from Rochester who asked him to send china cups and saucers – genuine china cups and saucers.

Flora: Not fake ones. 

Kate: No, genuine ones.

Actor: Dear Mr. Bernstein, Greetings, and please note we are a sightless young couple and have as one of our greatest pleasures the hobby of collecting genuine china cups and saucers new or old, the size that can be used. Our collection contains cups and saucers from some famous and outstanding persons throughout the country. It would thrill us no end if you would add to our collection, not for publicity purposes, for our own immediate and special pleasure and enjoyment. You are marvellous and should be more like you. Good music is wonderful. We wish there were more of it broadcast. We attend the Philharmonic concerts at the Eastman Theatre each season here in Rochester, and as it is our real pleasure, we purchase centre orchestra seats. We love it and go to enjoy the fineness of it. Too many in the audience do too much coughing and are always trying to see and complain about that. They should just sit quietly, close their eyes, and absorb, and we believe they would get much more from the music. Please do not disappoint us. You cannot imagine how thrilled we would be if you would add to our collection. We were both born with almost no vision. We live alone and do all of our own cooking, baking, washing, and ironing, shovel snow, mow lawn, et cetera. We enjoy reading, music, and our hobby and being where we can enjoy these things. Please add to our collection. Oh, how happy we would be and so proud to have a cup and saucer from a symphony orchestra conductor. Thank you, and God bless you always.

Flora: Wow, that’s amazing! This is such a classic instance of fandom, isn’t it?

Kate: Absolutely. That desire to collect objects – real life objects – that you can hold and touch that are a sort of material embodiment of the maestro himself that they can then have in their house. And yeah, the cups and saucers thing, I think, is interesting. So you have, I mean, that idea of collecting autographs that’s an absolutely classic part of fandom. And as I’ve said, you see that, you know, throughout the archive. But obviously, this couple are a blind couple. And therefore, having a bit of paper with a scribble on it isn’t going to be very meaningful to them. So I think, you know, my sense is that the china cup and saucer thing is specifically because it’s something so tactile and physical that you could hold. 

Flora: Well, and they make it really clear they actually want to use it. So, presumably, it’s the idea that they’d be able to use Bernstein’s own cup and saucer?

Kate: Absolutely – within their house and thereby have this kind of personal connection with the great man himself. 

Flora: I know you’ve actually spoken to some of the letter writers out there. Are these among those people?

Kate: Yeah, so the authors of this letter are both long dead, but I managed to get in touch with their former neighbour. 

Flora: Incredible. 

Kate: Yeah, who did … gave a fascinating insight into them as people. And absolutely. I mean, they talk in their letter about living alone and doing all their own cooking and baking. I mean, the stories that Jim told me were even more extraordinary than that. So if you’d like to hear some more about that, check out our website, dearmaestro.org, where you can hear some of my interview with Jim. 

[music]

Flora: Okay. So, Kate, presumably, some fans of Bernstein, like fans of anyone else, sometimes got a bit too close and personal?

Kate: Yeah, absolutely. And I think sometimes you also get a sense not just of fans being too intense, but also almost like their experience of that person has been too personal. One of the letters that I think really captures this we’re going to hear now, where they offer to send Bernstein a gift. It’s not totally clear what it is…

Actress: My dear Mr. Bernstein, I have already thanked you for the extreme pleasure your San Francisco concert has given me. It is not often that I spend the greater part of a concert feeling like the camel that did go through the eye of a needle. However foolish, I feel a need to return a gift that may give some small pleasure, and it pleases me this once to indulge myself. My gift is personal, but I believe pertinent, not impertinent. Its design is to meet the need conductors often have for assistance in coping with that personal, physical and emotional perspiration during those minutes between demands on stage.

Flora: I’m not gonna lie. This is a little bit gross, Kate.

Kate: It is a little bit gross. So clearly, the issue is that Bernstein has been sweating to … 

Flora: Visibly sweating!

Kate: … visibly sweating to a degree that this person in the audience just can’t quite cope with. And this is not the only person to write in about Bernstein being sweaty. 

Flora: Oh, wow!

Kate: When television comes into the picture, there are a number of letters that pick up on this same topic. Um, and I mean, it’s absolutely normal. As anybody who’s ever played in the violin section of an orchestra will know getting covered in sweat is just an unpleasant part of the experience. 

Flora: I mean, it is just genuinely very hot on stage under lights, isn’t it? 

Kate: Yeah, and it’s a lot of physical work waving a baton around. And particularly, I mean, Bernstein was known to be extremely dynamic. My guess is that they probably sent a handkerchief. I mean, it might also have been deodorant which was, you know, being widely advertised in the States at this time. But clearly, you know, they obviously feel that this level of sort of physical interaction that they’ve had with him has just been a little bit too close for comfort. 

Flora: So here, have a nice, monogrammed handkerchief or something. Something nice and clean!

Kate: Quite. And I think I mean, you get the sense, don’t you that, you know, there’s a hope that actually they might then see Bernstein using this personal gift that he’s been sent from them in concert, and they’ll have that feeling of pride that that was the thing that I sent to the maestro. That’s my handkerchief that I passed on to him that he’s now using. So, again, I think, you know, there’s that real desire to try and establish a more personal connection with the object of their fandom, something that goes above and beyond just turning up at the concerts and actually to feel like they’ve had that kind of intimate one-on-one exchange.

[music]

Flora: You’ve already mentioned about interviewing the neighbour of that couple who wanted Bernstein’s cup and saucer. So, I mean, tell us a little bit about the people that you’ve met in this project, ‘cause I mean, presumably, some of them are quite unusual humans?

Kate: I’ve met, I mean, a whole spectrum of people, and it’s been wonderful. I mean, I really love talking to people and hearing the different stories and the different degrees to which Bernstein has… you know, was a presence in their lives has been really fascinating.

Flora: Are there any particular characters who stand out?

Kate: So I had a great conversation with a guy called Gary Maggio, who is now retired and a painter. And you can see some of the pictures he’s drawn of Bernstein, both as a child and more recently on our website, dearmaestro.org. Gary was interesting partly because he drew this picture in response to attending a children’s concert. So he was somebody who actually got to go and see Bernstein perform in the flesh. 

Flora: When he was a child?

Kate: When he was a child – he went to the dress rehearsal of one of these concerts.

Flora: Incredible. 

Kate: And it was amazing hearing his memories of that event.

Flora: Okay, am I right in thinking we can actually hear some people talking about the letters that they wrote?

Kate: Absolutely. And I mean, this has been one of the wonderful parts of this project – reuniting individuals with these little fragments from their past, which, in most cases, as you’ll hear, they had completely forgotten ever having written.

Flora: Alright, let’s hear one of these now.

Cheryl Melody Baskin: Now, the letter I wrote that you sent me and I re-read … that surprised me. I didn’t know what I wrote him. I thought it would just thank him for all he, you know, offered as a musician and as a human being, you know, to make music come alive for kids and beyond. But I wrote him about … it was a very feminist kind of letter. I asked him why there were no women in the orchestra. I was shocked. I have no memory of being that person or writing that, you know, from that stance. And, and then asking him, you know, you know, doesn’t a woman feel the emotion in the same way, and don’t they, you know, have … you know, why aren’t there more? Why aren’t there any women in your orchestra? That was interesting, just to see that I wrote that.

Flora: This is fascinating, isn’t it? That idea of not recognising a past version of yourself. So you were actually bringing these letters back to their authors for the first time in presumably decades?

Kate: Yeah, and many of them have been shocked that they’re in the Library of Congress as well. And people wrote letters in the 1960s, 1950s and 1960s. You know, it was part of everyday life. I mean, it just made me think, it’s like my little sister, who is a major Swiftie, sending a DM to Taylor Swift. And then in 50 years time, she gets an email from somebody on the opposite side of the world, who she’s never met, with the DM attached to it, saying, ‘Hey, did you write this?’ I mean, it’s completely mind blowing.

Flora: And only time will tell. We’ll just have to see … you know, whether that ends up happening. In the meantime, today, I think we are out of time, but we have covered so much ground. We’ve touched on all sorts of things. There is so much to unpack here. So what have we got coming up next?

Kate: We’re going to be diving deeper into this question about elitism – to what extent classical music is elitist and whether that really helps its image. We’ll also be thinking about how people respond to music – this idea of that intense connection you can have versus the kind of more intellectual analytical way of thinking about it. We’ll be touching on questions of authenticity: how can you know that the person you see as the celebrity is the real thing, and does that matter? So we’ve got all that to come. But in the next episode, we'll be talking about fandom in classical music more broadly. What does it mean to be a fan of classical music, and is that okay? But in the meantime, if you’re a fan of classical music or of Leonard Bernstein and you have a story to share, we’d love to hear from you. You can drop us an email at hello@dearmaestro.org, or you can get out your pen and paper and send us some written mail to the address on our website, dearmaestro.org.

Flora: Remember to subscribe in your podcast app to be notified of new episodes landing; and for extra bonus content, including letters read out and discussed by their authors, head to dearmaestro.org.

Kate: This episode of Dear Maestro was produced by Rowan Bishop and me, Kate Guthrie, with thanks to my co-host Flora Willson and to my colleagues and the fan writers who recorded the letters for this series, including Cheryl Melody Baskin, Michael Ellison, Cassandra Fenton, Mark Keedwell, Melanie Shaffer, Karen Skinazi, Chuck Talley and Justin Williams. Music Courtesy of the University of Bristol. Archive Courtesy of the Leonard Bernstein Office.