Leonard Bernstein, the Man Behind the Legend of the Jewish Maestro – Tablet Magazine Leonard Bernstein, the Man Behind the Legend of the Jewish Maestro Homosexuality, Jewishness, and Zionism, in the newly collected letters of the charismatic musician November 4, 2013 • 12:00 AM Leonard Bernstein at the piano, 1936. (Courtesy Yale University Press) Thanks to YouTube, it’s possible to watch the 1965 concert in which Leonard Bernstein conducted the Israel Philharmonic and the Vienna Youth Chorus in a performance of his own choral work, Chichester Psalms. What’s mesmerizing about this video, beyond the music itself, is the sheer historical irony at work. Among the Israeli musicians were doubtless to be found refugees from Nazi Vienna; among the Austrian choirboys and girls, there were surely some whose parents had been Nazis themselves. Yet here they are together, under the baton of the world’s most famous Jewish conductor—and they are singing the words of the Psalms as Jews have sung them for millennia, in Hebrew. Only Leonard Bernstein could have brought about such a dramatic vindication of Jewishness, in the erstwhile heartland of anti-Semitism.

Reading about his life and career in The Leonard Bernstein Letters , a marvelously entertaining new book, shows just how famous Bernstein became, and how his fame helped to shape the image of American Jews as the cultural high-achievers of the American Century. From the 1940s through the 1970s, Bernstein was probably the world’s most recognizable classical musician; even today, 23 years after his death, his eagle-like profile and swoop of white hair remain an icon of high-cultural glamour. He was triply famous as a conductor, the longtime music director of the New York Philharmonic; as a classical composer, whose major works dwell explicitly on Jewish themes and texts; and as a Broadway composer, where he reached the widest audience with his scores for West Side Story , Candide, On the Town, and other shows. In retrospect, it’s possible to see that Bernstein came along at the perfect moment to make the most of his talents. Before the 1940s, the top conductors of American orchestras were all Europeans, and the idea lingered that only in Europe could a world-class musician be made.

After the 1970s, the mass prestige of both classical music and Broadway began to collapse, as part of the fragmenting and democratizing of American culture. Today, even a sophisticated New Yorker might struggle to name the conductor of the New York Philharmonic. But everybody knew Leonard Bernstein. Nigel Simeone, the editor of the Letters, made the good decision to include not just letters Bernstein wrote, but those he received, and it is often the latter that make the most exciting reading. Name a celebrity in any field from the 1940s to the 1970s, and there’s a good chance that he or she will be found in The Leonard Bernstein Letters, showering the maestro with praise. Frank Sinatra is here, asking Bernstein to participate in JFK’s inaugural concert; eight years later, Jacqueline Onassis thanks him for arranging the music for Bobby Kennedy’s funeral. Bette Davis writes him fan letters: “there is probably nothing in the world so encouraging for the future of the world as a super talent in someone—it is the only true inspiration and help in believing the world is really worthwhile.” So does Richard Avedon: “You stand alone.

Terrifying, but true.” So does Yevgeny Yevtushenko, in broken English: “probably, only composer who could create music for such kind of theme are you.” And that’s before you even get to the musicians. Conductors like Serge Koussevitzky, Arturo Toscanini, Fritz Reiner, Claudio Abbado, and Georg Solti rave about Bernstein’s conducting. Composers thank him for performing their work so brilliantly: not just the American composers with whom Bernstein is usually associated, such as Aaron Copland, Lukas Foss, and David Diamond, but Europeans too, including Francis Poulenc, Olivier Messiaen, and Iannis Xenakis. And then there are the theater people, including Bernstein’s collaborators Stephen Sondheim, Jerome Robbins, and Betty Comden and Adolph Green. Some of this praise doesn’t rise above the level of flattery.

Indeed, when the German avant-garde composer Karlheinz Stockhausen sent Bernstein a particularly over-the-top letter, comparing him to Mozart (“There is a secret relationship between your soul and Mozart’s soul, perhaps you know it: brilliant seldom stars appearing from time to time at the sky of this earth … ”), Bernstein forwarded the letter to Foss, who replied with disgust (“Who is that man who dares out-flatter the flatterers?”). Clearly, for all kinds of people, it paid to have Leonard Bernstein as a friend, and as the book goes on, there is an increasingly hectic and impersonal quality to the letters he writes and receives. It is the people who knew Bernstein as a young man, before his precocious success, who remained his most trustworthy correspondents. Adolph Green, who co-wrote the book for Bernstein’s shows On the Town and Wonderful Town, first met “Lenny” in 1937 at a Jewish summer camp.

In a letter written in 1968, Green recalls that summer at “Uncle Lou’s Heavenly Haven for Healthily well-fed young Hebrews,” and the overwhelming impression that the 19-year-old Bernstein made on him: “I felt a sudden, complete exuberance, the fresh air of 1,000,000 windows opening simultaneously and a sense that my life had been building towards a turning point and that it had happened—now.” This lovely letter captures what many people must have felt encountering the young Bernstein. When admiration for his musical gifts combined with romantic and sexual interest—as it seems to have for Aaron Copland, Bernstein’s first and greatest mentor, and the conductor Dimitris Mitropoulos—the result was a passionate desire to advance the young prodigy’s career. A cynic might call this good tactics on Bernstein’s part. Reading the letters, however, it seems more like an inevitable result of his youth and beauty and talent, which couldn’t help winning conquests on every side. As a student at Harvard and then at the Curtis Institute of Music, Bernstein was already marked for great things.

Copland took an interest in him, as did Serge Koussevitzky, the conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and creator of the Tanglewood Festival, with which Bernstein would long be associated. His annus mirabilis came in 1943-44, when, in quick succession, he made his debut conducting the New York Philharmonic—filling in at the last minute for a sick conductor—then debuted his own Symphony No. 1, and then had a Broadway hit with the ballet On the Town. At the age of 25, he was a celebrity, and from then until his death in 1990, the pace seldom slackened. To read these letters is to be whirled from city to city and continent to continent, accompanied by Bernstein’s reports of rapturous audiences and bowled-over critics and ticket lines stretching down the block. The subtitle of this book could be taken from On the Town: “I’m so lucky to be me.” Stephen Sondheim: The Story So Far... - Stephen Sondheim | Songs, Reviews, Credits | AllMusic Stephen Sondheim: The Story So Far...

AllMusic Rating google+ AllMusic Review by William Ruhlmann Stephen Sondheim: The Story So Far is a four-CD box set of 82 recordings of music by the Broadway songwriter, with a running time just under five hours. It is far from the first compilation of Sondheim 's work, or even the first box set, but it follows a pattern in such compilations and in box sets in general, in that the selection seems aimed at two different classes of potential purchasers, those general fans looking for a single omnibus collection of the best or most popular of an artist's efforts, and the aficionados primarily interested in rarities. Despite his renown, particularly among musical theater buffs, and a mantelpiece straining with Tony, Grammy, and Academy Awards, Sondheim does not have a slew of "hits," as in, songs that have made the Top 40. Among his early efforts as a lyricist only, West Side Story (with music by Leonard Bernstein ) generated such hits as "Somewhere" and "Tonight," and Johnny Mathis' recording of "Small World" from Gypsy (with music by Jule Styne ) made the Top 20.

Since then, only "Send in the Clowns" from A Little Night Music produced a Top 40 hit for Judy Collins in 1975. Sondheim tends to downplay his lyrical collaborations, and they are typically underrepresented here, with only "Tonight" included. "Send in the Clowns" appears in the recording from the original Broadway cast album of A Little Night Music, sung by Glynis Johns , for whom it was written. Of course, fans have their favorites among Sondheim 's large catalog, and his songs have been extensively performed and recorded outside their shows. But, like its many predecessors, this sampler of his work leaves out many of those favorites. Basically, its first three discs trace his career in the musical theater from 1957's West Side Story to a 2004 revised version of the 1974 musical The Frogs. Usually, two or three songs (not necessarily the best-known) from a show are excerpted, accompanied by songs cut from the scores, often performed in informal demonstration recordings, many of those by the composer himself. The fourth disc is given over almost entirely to obscurities, including music written for films.

Thus, of 82 tracks, 33 are previously unreleased and 13 are sung by Sondheim himself. That's a selection and a proportion of rarities that will delight Sondheim fans, who may only wish the set was all rarities. For others, the collection may be more problematic, but then they are less likely to want to fork over the money for a box like this in the first place. Certainly, anyone encountering this music without previous knowledge would be amazed by its variety, from old-time show music to approximations of traditional Japanese music, with a lot of Western classical references thrown in, along with the consistently sparkling wit and seemingly endless verbal facility of the lyrics. And, if nothing else, the album boasts performances by a bevy of star performers including Carol Burnett, Barbara Cook , Hermione Gingold , Nathan Lane , Angela Lansbury , Patti LuPone , Madonna , Ethel Merman , Liza Minnelli , Zero Mostel , Mandy Patinkin , Anthony Perkins , Bernadette Peters , Jane Powell , Lee Remick , Chita Rivera , Elaine Stritch , and Mel Tormé . All are given powerful material to interpret.

At the end, one may only ask what, if this is, as the producers say, only "the story so far," they expect still to come from the songwriter, who was 78 years old on the day this album was released. Even given that one of the set's final songs is called "More," what is here seems like more than enough already, even if it is less than what it could have been. Track Listing - Disc 1 Leonard Bernstein/Stephen Sondheim: West Side Story (Choral Suite) - SAB/Piano - SAB, Piano Accompaniment Vocal Score - Sheet Music & Songbooks - Musicroom.com Sheet Music & Songbooks Leonard Bernstein/Stephen Sondheim: West Side Story (Choral Suite) - SAB/Piano Qty: In Stock. Usually ships in 24 hours Other Buying Options Also available for Click and Collect from your local store Reserve product at Store Please enter your phone number Email Please enter a valid email address Note Please complete the form and click the submit button. This will notify our store that you wish to reserve this product. Our store will contact you to confirm the reservation. Please do not travel until the store has contacted you.

Please double check your phone number, if it is incorrect we will be unable to contact you. We aim to get back to you within the hour, during shop hours (please see store details), to confirm your reservation. If you do not hear from us then please resend the request. Our Price: Leonard Bernstein | Download Music, Tour Dates & Video | eMusic Biography All Music Guide All Music Guide: No figure in 20th century American classical music had as prominent or controversial a career -- or did more to sell classical music to the general public as something genuinely exciting, and worth getting into a sweat over -- than Leonard Bernstein. For more than 30 years, from his assumption of the post of Music Director of the New York Philharmonic in 1958 until the final concerts that he conducted in obviously failing health near the end of his life in 1990, he was the most prominent and widely recognized American-born conductor in the world, and the dominant personality in American classical music as both a conductor and, to a lesser degree, a composer.

A flamboyant public figure, he burst three different times on the musical world -- twice in classical with a rush of success on Broadway in between -- in a blaze of glory, in the space of 15 years; and over a career lasting from the early '40s until the beginning of the '90s, he never lost an opportunity to advance his reputation as well as the cause of music. In the process, he opened new musical horizons to millions of listeners and thousands of would-be performers who might never have otherwise discovered them. And most who were around to see him in the years when he was at the New York Philharmonic, either as an assistant conductor or a guest conductor for such events as the Lewisohn Stadium concerts, or as Music Director, remember him as vividly as they recall Elvis Presley or the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, or hearing the Sgt. Pepper album for the first time -- in those years, like no one before or since, Bernstein made classical music exciting, even sexy; he made it sing to people who'd never appreciated it before and speak to people who'd never understood it.

Bernstein was born in Lawrence, MA, in 1918, the son of Sam Bernstein, a Russian-born Talmudic scholar-turned-fish-cleaner-turned-businessman. Bernstein seemed destined for a career in business until age ten, when he began playing the piano on his own and got good enough to give lessons to other children, earning enough money to pay for his own lessons when his father refused to indulge in such impractical activities. A Boston Pops concert that he attended also contributed mightily to Bernstein's youthful musical aspirations, and during his teens he began staging operas, composing, and playing the piano on a radio show that was sponsored by his father's cosmetics company. He had an equal aptitude with popular music and the classics, and was a formidable improviser even at this young age. Bernstein's formal music training began astonishingly late, at age 14, by which time he was already immersed in the beginnings of a musical career. After initial study with Helen Coates, who subsequently became his mentor and personal secretary, he studied with the prominent piano teacher Heinrich Gebhard.

He attended Harvard, and became very well known at the university for his prodigious musical abilities -- surprisingly, he often neglected courses in music theory in favor of classes in philosophy and language, all the while playing the piano at every opportunity and writing about music as well. If he had a role model at the time, it was the pianist/composer George Gershwin, whose work -- mixing classical and jazz influences freely -- prefigured much of what Bernstein wanted to do with music. It appeared that Bernstein was destined for a career as a concert pianist, when a chance encounter in 1937 with the Greek-born maestro Dimitri Mitropoulos, which led to a brief homosexual relationship, changed the course of his career. Seeing the celebrated conductor at work with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, Bernstein became fixated upon the art of conducting, and decided to shift his intention from a career at the keyboard to one at the podium. He later became the musical protégé of Serge Koussevitsky, the celebrated music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and also fell under the spell of composer Aaron Copland, who, like Mitropoulos, was also attracted to Bernstein on a sexual level.

Bernstein's studies were uninterrupted by World War II, the result of chronic asthma that made him unfit for military service, and he subsequently attended the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia, and later studied at Tanglewood in the Berkshires. It was on the strength of a recommendation from Koussevitsky that Bernstein was hired as an assistant conductor by the New York Philharmonic. This was not a prominent or glamorous post, primarily charging Bernstein with responsibility for screening new scores, occasionally coaching the orchestra, and standing by in the event that the scheduled conductor on a given evening was unable to appear. It was in the latter capacity that lightning first struck for Bernstein, on the afternoon of November 14, 1943, when the scheduled conductor, Bruno Walter, was suddenly taken ill, just hours before he was to conduct a program of both new and established concert works. Artur Rodzinsky, the orchestra's permanent conductor, who would normally have taken the concert in Walter's place, was stuck out of town and couldn't return in time, and recommended the unknown Bernstein.

As it happened, this was also a broadcast performance, and so millions of listeners got to hear the neophyte conductor take over the performance on only hours' notice, and lead the orchestra through a flawless performance of a difficult program, which included works by Robert Schumann, Richard Strauss, Richard Wagner, and Miklos Rozsa. Instead of following the orchestra, which had already played the repertory on the prior nights' programs, Bernstein added new interpretive details, taking over control and putting his stamp on these pieces. The next day, Bernstein and the story of the behind-the-scenes drama at the Philharmonic and the broadcast that followed were on the front page of The New York Times and other major newspapers, and not just in New York. Literally overnight, he was in demand as a conductor, sufficiently to receive invitations from various major orchestras and the offer of a recording contract with RCA Victor, then one of the three biggest record labels in the country (alongside Columbia and Decca).

Additionally, Bernstein's reputation as a composer began to blossom for the first time during this period, most notably with his music for a Jerome Robbins-choreographed ballet called Fancy Free, which he later turned into the hit musical show On the Town (which, in turn, became the basis for the movie starring Gene Kelly and Frank Sinatra). It was as a composer, primarily for the stage, that Bernstein began emerging in the years after his New York Philharmonic debut. While his opera Trouble in Tahiti received a mixed, largely negative response, and his musical adaptation of Peter Pan never caught on with audiences or critics despite some memorable songs, Candide was a hit, and his music for Elia Kazan's movie On the Waterfront (1954) -- although he found the process of composing for films frustrating -- received an Oscar nomination, and was heard (and beloved) by millions of people who saw the movie, and is today regarded as one of the finest bodies of music ever written for a film.

And his collaboration with Robbins and lyricist Stephen Sondheim on West Side Story became one of the defining works of 20th century musical theater, generating a career's worth of hit songs and melodies whose popularity extended to every corner of musical life -- not yet 40 years old, he'd moved into the rarefied ranks of successful popular and theater composers, and was following a career arc rivaling that of his one-time idol Gershwin. He also became a familiar figure on television, through his appearances on the Omnibus documentary series. And there were some recordings -- his contract with RCA Victor limited Bernstein to recording contemporary works (including some of his own), but his stint conducting the Philharmonic in its summer concerts at Lewisohn Stadium in northern Manhattan led to a recording contract with Decca Records (for which the Philharmonic, to avoid a violation of its exclusive contract with Columbia Masterworks, was billed as the "Lewisohn Stadium Symphony Orchestra"). This gave him his first chance to record the mainstream European repertory, including works by Schumann, Brahms, and Tchaikovsky; and he ran with it, in a series of genuinely exciting and bracing interpretations that remained popular for decades.

His aspirations as a conductor were thwarted, however, and his career seemed stalled. Through a series of unfortunate missteps by all parties, he was denied the chance to succeed Koussevitsky with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and any ambitions he might've had in New York were stymied by the presence of Dimitri Mitropoulos as Music Director of the Philharmonic. Bernstein's second big break in classical music came during the mid-'50s, when rumors of the orchestra's growing unhappiness with Mitropoulos began circulating. The celebrated conductor was gradually being worn down by his constant battles with the orchestra's players, a board of directors that didn't seem to know what it wanted, a press corps that found little good to say about his work, and an indifferent public. Additionally, his health was deteriorating, and it seemed to all concerned by 1955 that Mitropoulos might not last much longer with the Philharmonic.

What's more, after the debacle in Boston, the stars seemed to be aligning in Bernstein's favor, despite his youth -- the only veteran conductors on the scene, Leopold Stokowski and Bruno Walter, were both in their seventies and ruled out by their ages (Stokowski had shared the chief conductor's spot briefly in the 1940s; and Walter had been considered for the post then but ruled himself out at the time, taking instead the lesser, improvised title of "Musical Advisor" for two years, owing both to his age and also to his lack of appreciation for contemporary music, which formed an important part of the Philharmonic's mission). There were two obstacles, however, that he would have to overcome -- the first was the fact that no American-born conductor had ever held the post of chief conductor (or, as it was to be renamed, music director) of any major American orchestra; their boards tended to look at Europeans, owing to an in-bred cultural inferiority that went with classical music at the time, and the Philharmonic was the most elitist of them all. And there was also still one man ahead of him, standing in his path: Guido Cantelli.

The first choice to succeed Mitropoulos was the young Italian maestro, a protégé of octogenarian Arturo Toscanini, the Philharmonic's revered chief conductor from the 1920s and early '30s -- Cantelli had guest conducted with the Philharmonic as well as the NBC Symphony several times and had the endorsement and admiration not only of Toscanini but also of much of the New York musical establishment. His only drawback was his youth, and it was assumed by many that Bernstein might, at best, receive an interim appointment as chief conductor for three or four years, until Cantelli was ready, and then relinquish the job. Ironically, Cantelli died in a plane crash in November of 1956 while on his way to New York to take over a concert from the suddenly departed Mitropoulos -- Toscanini, who died early the following year, was never told of his death, and Cantelli's loss is still felt in the 21st century, as demonstrated by the string of releases of his surviving studio and broadcast recordings coming from labels such as Testament Records. The tragedy left Bernstein as the leading contender for the position.

His appointment was still not a foregone conclusion, however, for he was far too closely associated with Broadway for the taste of many of the orchestra's board members. It was only after he agreed to abandon his Broadway career that these doubts were settled. (It's a demonstration of how times have changed -- in the emaciated classical music marketplace of the 21st century, board members of any American orchestra would likely consider selling their souls to get a music director who could attract any portion of Broadway's clientele, and if he had an old show or two running at the time or his appointment, so much the better.) After much behind-the-scenes politicking, and an interim appointment sharing the chief conductor's post with Mitropoulos, Bernstein was named Music Director of the New York Philharmonic in November of 1958. At the age of 40, he had succeeded to the most prominent musical post in the United States, the first American-born musician to have achieved such a position with a major orchestra. Overnight Bernstein became a national figure.

He emerged into the limelight through a recording contract with Columbia Masterworks that ensured he would get to record every major piece of classical repertory -- some more than once -- over the next 15 years, and those recordings, in turn, brought Bernstein even more exposure. He was a shockingly handsome man, with matinee idol, even movie star good looks, and was a dashing figure at the podium, and on camera he was unbelievably charismatic. Additionally, he was a natural teacher, able to reach out to audiences of any age and explain music written as much as a century or two earlier to contemporary listeners. And kids and their parents loved him, as audiences for his televised Young Peoples' Concerts were soon to discover. Those broadcasts, which went on into the mid-'60s, did almost as much for music education nationally as the budgets of all the school districts in the country. But his success was a factor of much more than his abilities as a speaker, or even as an interpreter of music. Bernstein had been fortunate enough to arrive on the national scene at around the same time as another major cultural figure out of Massachusetts, President John F. Kennedy.

The two were of virtually the same age, and both men fairly radiated elegance and sexuality, though Bernstein's was of an ambiguous nature, his homosexuality hidden behind a marriage that had produced children -- though there were still rumors and stories, all suppressed at the time. He had not only the classical music world at his feet but, seemingly, the pop culture world as well. Bernstein was the first American-born conductor to achieve superstar status before the general public, and he had the charisma to sustain it, and they devoured it, even those that didn't know or care much about classical music. Bernstein's youthful vigor was of a piece with the times, as New York and the country were entering a newly dynamic age, after the relatively sedate and calm 1950s -- in a bold spirit with decidedly different results, the U.S. was sending men into space and troops into Southeast Asia on two peculiarly diverse "adventures," and battling poverty and busting the federal budget, all with a vigor and an abandon that would have amazed the previous generation's leaders.

New York's Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, the new permanent home for the Philharmonic, the Metropolitan Opera, and so on, built on the very slums where West Side Story was set, was opened in 1963. With two exceptions (Stokowski, who'd briefly shared the job in the 1940s, and the long-ago-replaced Sir John Barbirolli), Bernstein was the only leader of the Philharmonic, present or past, to live to see the opening, and the event only solidified the notion of a new era for the arts, with Leonard Bernstein as its most visible spokesperson. He was also lucky enough to come along just as Columbia Records and the rest of the music industry and the country were switching to stereo sound -- this ensured that he would be not only able but obliged to re-record virtually every remotely popular piece that had ever been in the Philharmonic's repertory. His first recording for Columbia Masterworks as Music Director of the Philharmonic, of Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, quickly rose to legendary status as a result of its freshness and savagery.

His records included everything from warhorses such as Dukas' Sorcerer's Apprentice to the complete Mahler symphonies, which nobody had recorded in their entirety before; and it was not lost on Bernstein or the public that these performances were done with the successor to the orchestra that Mahler himself had led 50 years or so before. Strangely enough, amid all of this material -- many hundreds of recordings -- he only ever recorded two pieces by his boyhood idol George Gershwin, the Rhapsody in Blue, which he recorded with himself as piano soloist, and An American In Paris. Bernstein also championed the then neglected music of Charles Ives and made the first major orchestra recordings of contemporary pieces such as Atmospheres by Ligeti (albeit from an edited version of the score). Such was his status and stature, that when he recorded a piece, even by a relatively little-known modernist or a contemporary composer, audiences felt obliged to look into it.

He was, if anything, the reverse of Toscanini in his effect on music -- where the venerated Italian maestro had limited his repertory to a narrow strip of Romantic works and a relative handful of composers (and, some say, limited the thinking about music for his hundreds of thousands of admirers in the process) from the 1920s to the 1950s, Bernstein was always challenging his listeners with new names and new pieces. For all of his popularity, the most conservative voices in the classical critical community kept Bernstein at arm's length until his recordings of the late Haydn symphonies, works for which the Philharmonic had not been known during Mitropoulos' tenure. Unlike Mitropoulos, who was a specialist in the late Romantic repertory and modern music, Bernstein was a generalist in the extreme, conducting work from across history, from the Baroque to the contemporary. By the mid-'60s, Bernstein commanded a huge cult of admirers, encompassing relatively casual listeners as well as dedicated classical enthusiasts, although the most conservative and tradition-minded classical aficionados still maintained their doubts until the completion of his recordings of the late Haydn symphonies, after which even they were converted.

He was also a special cultural hero to American Jews, who regarded him as a representative of their success in the postwar United States -- that status, which lasted far longer than his tenure at the Philharmonic, was to provide Bernstein with a unique opportunity in Europe later in his career, for Bernstein's reputation transcended any national or religious group and spread around the world -- he became in music circles as much a symbol of the United States in the 1960s as President Kennedy was, and his guest performances sold huge numbers of tickets with every orchestra, while his records were selling in numbers comparable to those of many pop releases of the time, and selling well in countries outside the United States, as well. The Philharmonic itself was also altered radically during his tenure. From a schedule of five months annually, he helped turn the orchestra into a year-round institution, with concerts scheduled in each season, and a commensurate increase in salary for the members.

(One other factor in the incredible timing of his arrival and appointment was the retirement of Toscanini in 1954, and the final dissolution of the NBC Symphony Orchestra -- a broadcast unit created for the older conductor by the radio network that had competed with the Philharmonic for record sales, audience, and press coverage -- and its successor ensemble, the Symphony of the Air, a couple of years later, which left the Philharmonic as the only institution of its size or reputation in New York.) Additionally, the Philharmonic became a familiar and much-loved institution in New York under Bernstein, even among non-music fans, something that had never happened before; he made classical music seem friendly and accessible, rather than imposing, and audiences responded in kind. And Bernstein didn't limit himself to endorsing classical music only -- indeed, he spoke favorably of the music of the Beatles at a time when relatively few major figures in classical music did, and, in a 1966 CBS television special, introduced the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson performing the sublimely beautiful song "Surf's Up" at the piano.

After ten years at the Philharmonic, however, the responsibilities of the post, as well as its limitations, were beginning to wear on Bernstein. His record sales, although still strong, had peaked in the mid-'60s, and already by 1966 Columbia Records was becoming resistant to recording many of the works that Bernstein was interested in committing to disc -- between 1958 and 1966, he'd put a lifetime's worth of music on record, and the company saw anything too ambitious beyond that point as unnecessarily risky. Bernstein's appetite for change was whetted by his experience working with the Vienna State Opera and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra as a guest conductor, and with Decca/London Records on the resulting recordings, during the mid-'60s. He also liked the Decca/London engineers' approach to recording better than that of their counterparts at Columbia, and the label's packaging as well, which was far more exciting than much of what Columbia had done with his work.

Moreover, he was eager to make operatic recordings, which Columbia Records was not -- and, in fact, had abandoned doing in the 1950s -- and he was able to do that in Vienna, with help from Decca/London and, later, Deutsche Grammophon Records. Moreover, the Vienna Philharmonic, after some difficulty accepting Bernstein as a composer, took to him exceptionally well as a conductor and ultimately proved eager to work with him if he were willing, for reasons having everything to do with then-recent history. The Vienna Philharmonic, then as now, was one of the two most elite orchestras in the world (the other is the Berlin Philharmonic), and establishing an ongoing professional relationship with it represented both an opportunity and an honor that no conductor could pass up. And in a sense, conductor and orchestra needed each other -- the Vienna Philharmonic, with its Berlin counterpart, was one of the two finest orchestras the world, but like its counterpart it had been at a disadvantage with Jewish audiences and record buyers (especially in America), owing to events in Germany and Austria from 1933 through 1945 -- except that, in a sense, the VPO had it worse.

It was an integral component of the city of Vienna and the Austrian nation, and their cultural life. But in March of 1938, Nazi Germany had forcibly annexed Austria after engineering the dissolution of the government of Chancellor Kurt Schuschnigg, which opposed annexation; although most Austrians over 30 opposed the union, and Schuschnigg spent seven years in a German prison, a major part of the population under 30 welcomed the Nazis' presence, and in Vienna they reveled in the anti-Semitism that the German rule institutionalized; in Berlin, by contrast, most voters had opposed Hitler in the last election and many even as late as 1938 made no show of anti-Semitism. And for the rest of history, Austria and Vienna in particular would occupy a suspect place in the estimation of those who cared to think about it -- victim of the Nazis or willing host and ally, no one could be sure.

Some Austrian and German Jews -- most notably Bruno Walter among musicians -- had reconciled with the nation and city, and the Vienna Philharmonic, but the orchestra was at a disadvantage for decades in selling its records to Jewish listeners (especially in the United States, where they made up a major part of the classical audience). The orchestra, a self-governing body with no permanent music director, saw Bernstein as the solution to their problem -- securing the alliance of the most celebrated Jewish-American conductor in the world was one way of winning that audience over, and sending out a signal that times had, indeed, changed.

Conversely, Bernstein was keenly aware of the significance of a Jewish-American conductor from New York establishing an ongoing relationship with the Vienna orchestra, and what it would mean to him; not only would this be the one kind of engagement that he could accept after New York post that would be perceived as a promotion, and rid him of the chore of being a music director in the process, but it would be another way of making history, and also potentially opened up a whole new round and cycle of record sales; even those listeners who'd loyally bought his New York recordings on Columbia might well have to hear his work with the Vienna Philharmonic (whereas they might not have cared what he did with, say, the St. Louis Symphony or the Los Angeles Philharmonic), especially if those records sounded significantly better.

And, no doubt, the notion of an American-Jewish conductor coming to the Vienna Philharmonic -- Gustav Mahler's orchestra 60-some years before -- as an alumnus of the New York Philharmonic (which Mahler had also led), and performing and recording Mahler's symphonies, and those of Beethoven and others that Mahler had done, appealed to him to no end, bringing a cycle of music history back to its beginning point, with himself as the focal point. In November of 1968, Bernstein announced his resignation from the New York Philharmonic effective the following year. His departure left a huge hole in the cultural fabric of the city and the country. The CBS network tried to keep the Young Peoples' Concerts going with Michael Tilson-Thomas but by the early '70s they were history, and Bernstein's vibrant, outgoing personality at the podium was succeeded by the far more cerebral composer-conductor Pierre Boulez, who, in turn, during the late '70s, was succeeded by the flashy but less musically respected Zubin Mehta. Bernstein's exit from the orchestra was followed several years later by his departure from Columbia Records.

Although he continued to perform and record in New York occasionally, as conductor emeritus of the Philharmonic, he increasingly spent his time and his recording engagements in Vienna, London, Israel, and, near the end of his career, Berlin. For a time during the early '70s, while still holding forth in New York in his luxury duplex on Park Avenue, he emerged into political circles in an unfortunate manner, hosting a fundraising party for the Black Panthers, an underground radical political group of the late '60s and early '70s, mostly known (though there was more to them than this) for fomenting riots and shootouts with the police; that event was immortalized by author Tom Wolfe, who was inspired to coin the sardonic phrase "radical chic" and attach it to the city's liberal elites. During most of the 1970s, despite lapses such as this, Bernstein retained much of the luster of his earlier reputation, and his concerts were well attended.

Although his subsequent recordings for Deutsche Grammophon, with which he signed in the middle of the 1970s, didn't sell as well as his most successful records on the 1960s, they were generally better received by the critics, and have remained steady, perennial sellers on CD. He re-recorded the major parts of his repertory, most notably the Mahler and Beethoven symphonies, and found a new generation of listeners in the bargain. Much of his activity during these years was spent with the Vienna Philharmonic, which made Bernstein an honorary member -- a rare honor from the self-governing orchestra -- in recognition of his productive years with them. He also worked with the Israel Philharmonic, the Concertgebouw Orchestra of Amsterdam, the London Symphony Orchestra, and the Berlin Philharmonic. One of his goals in giving up the Music Director's post with the Philharmonic was to spend more time composing, but it was in the latter role that Bernstein never found as much acceptance as he did for his conducting.

His first two symphonies were written and premiered long before he was an established conductor, and eventually found larger audiences -- his third, entitled Kaddish, was written upon the death of President Kennedy, and was assured a much wider hearing by virtue of its inspiration. And his Mass: A Theatre Piece for Singers, Players and Dancers, written for the opening of the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C., sold well also, as an LP box. But none of Bernstein's classical works ever found the mass audience that his Broadway creations did, with West Side Story eclipsing most of the rest of his output in that area. Indeed, several parts of that score -- which became even more widely known through the 1961 movie version co-directed by Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins -- are still among the most widely known pieces of music ever to come from the theater and have worked their way thoroughly into American popular culture, including rock reinterpretations ("America") and quotations in the early comedy of Robin Williams (actually, in his first appearance as "Mork from Ork"). The 1980s saw Bernstein's reputation decline along with his health.

He became increasingly erratic at the podium -- his re-recording of the Mahler Second Symphony for Deutsche Grammophon features a slow movement that is so slow that members of the orchestra's string section admit they had trouble coming up with any sound. His years of living on the edge, pushing himself too hard professionally and personally, wore heavily on him, and toward the end of the 1980s, Bernstein looked a shadow of his former self. He was still sufficiently the showman, however, so that when the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, Bernstein led a Christmas Day performance of Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 from the site of the demolished wall, featuring the combined orchestras, choirs, and soloists of the major orchestras of Berlin, London, Dresden, Paris, New York, and Leningrad, that was recorded and subsequently released by Deutsche Grammophon. Strangely enough, it was during this period of gradual decline that Bernstein admitted that many of the interpretive decisions he'd made in his days with the New York Philharmonic were little more than educated guesses, a major reason why he was eager to re-record many of the same works.

Toward the end, the performances got more uncertain, and were interspersed with a growing number of cancellations, even as he accepted ever fewer engagements. At Bernstein's final concert at Tanglewood on August 19, 1990, at a concert commemorating the 50th anniversary of the festival's founding, it was clear that Bernstein was barely able to stand up through the performance, and the orchestra was carrying him. He died exactly two months later. Leonard Bernstein's legacy as a conductor has no peer among American musicians -- he recorded more than almost anyone -- and few among those around the world in terms of sheer breadth. He is often credited with establishing Gustav Mahler as a major composer before the concert-going public, but this somewhat overstates his importance and ignores the roles that Bruno Walter and Dimitri Mitropoulos, in particular, played in popularizing Mahler's work in America. Bernstein's early RCA recordings, done during the 1940s, are primarily of historical interest.

His Columbia recordings have had an uneven history on CD -- as with most Columbia (or, later, Sony Classical) releases, the sound on the early compact disc editions was substandard, and in the early '90s Sony attempted an upgrade in connection with the so-called "Royal Edition" series, which (for reasons that no one is still clear on) tried to link Bernstein's recordings with Prince Charles of England; the sound was still problematic, however, and it wasn't until the twin advents of Sony's Super-Audio CD releases and the "Artist of the Century" series, with a further upgrade, that Bernstein's Columbia recordings became competitive again. Among his Columbia recordings, the Rite of Spring, the Haydn symphonies, the Mahler Third, Sixth, Seventh, and Ninth symphonies, the Sibelius symphonies, and Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue and An American in Paris are among the finest ever recorded, with the Gershwin works the finest renditions of these pieces ever done. Additionally, early in his recording career at Columbia, before he was even the Music Director of the Philharmonic, he did a recording of variant movements from the Beethoven Symphony No.

5, rejects of the first movement from Beethoven's sketchbooks, complete with a discussion by Bernstein, that is priceless to anyone who cares about music -- no one could lecture on music as persuasively. And in 2004, Deutsche Grammophon reissued his 1953 American Decca recordings with the Philharmonic (credited as the Lewisohn Stadium Orchestra), to rousing critical acclaim -- reappearing after decades of unavailability, they were a reminder, separate from his more mature and studied recordings, of how exciting he had made classical music seem in his early career. Bernstein's Deutsche Grammophon recordings are generally competitive with his Columbia work, and most are superior in terms of sound as well. The notable exceptions are the Sibelius symphonies, of which the Columbia performances are superior. The Beethoven symphonies, the Mahler Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and both Ninths, with the Concertgebouw and the Berlin Philharmonic, are indispensable. In 2004, the conductor's Young Peoples' Concerts were also re-released on DVD.

West Side Story : (Choral Suite) (2-Part) : Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim/arr. Mac Huff : 2-Part : # M051481897 West Side Story : (Choral Suite) (2-Part) : Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim/arr. Mac Huff : 2-Part : # M051481897 West Side Story : (Choral Suite) (2-Part) : Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim/arr. Mac Huff : 2-Part : # M051481897 Retail Price: $4.95 Product Description West Side Story : (Choral Suite) (2-Part) : Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim/arr. Mac Huff, : Mac Huff : Stephen Sondheim : Broadway Choral Series : 2-Part : Published by Boosey & Hawkes : # M051481897 Features West Side Story by : Mac Huff : Stephen Sondheim The music from Leonard Bernstein's landmark Broadway musical West Side Story has become an important part of our musical heritage.

This 20-minute choral suite in four sections offers vivid and emotional contrasts along with some of the most beautiful and beloved melodies the Broadway stage has ever produced. Songs include: Something's Coming; Tonight; Maria; One Hand; One Heart; I Feel Pretty; Cool; America; Somewhere. Available separately; SATB; SAB; 2-Part and ShowTrax CD. Instrumental Parts available as a digital download. Duration ca. 18:00. East Coast Music Product Code ZHL450163 SONG LIST Title: Tonight Artist: Barbara Mandrell ; Def Leppard ; Elton John ; Iggy Pop ; Jeremy Camp ; Jonas Brothers ; Kutless ; Lionel Richie ; Ozzy Osbourne Lyricist: Bernie Taupin ; Bob Daisley ; David Bowie ; Don Cook ; Fred Jerkins ; Gloria Gaither ; Greg Garbowsky ; James R. Mead ; Joe Elliott ; Jon Micah Sumrall ; Joseph Jonas ; Kevin Jonas II ; Kyle Mitchell ; Lashawn Daniels ; Lee Kerslake ; Nathan Stuart ; Nicholas Jonas ; Phil Collen ; R.J.

Lange ; Rafe VanHoy ; Randy Rhoads ; Richard Savage ; Rodney Jerkins ; Ryan Shrout ; Stephen Sondheim ; Steve Clark Writer: Benjy Gaither ; Leonard Bernstein Title: Maria Artist: Blondie ; Green Day ; Justin Bieber Lyricist: August Rigo ; Billie Joe ; James Mollica Destri ; Oscar Hammerstein II ; Rodney Jerkins ; Stephen Sondheim Writer: Francisco Tarrega ; Leonard Bernstein ; Richard Rodgers Title: Somewhere Artist: Glee Cast ; Jimi Hendrix Lyricist: George L.O. Strid ; Mary Donnelly ; Stephen Sondheim Writer: Leonard Bernstein Title: America Artist: John Fahey ; Julie Gold ; Neil Diamond ; Passion ; Simon & Garfunkel Lyricist: Chris Tomlin ; J.D. Walt ; Jack Parker ; John Jacobson ; Katharine Lee Bates ; Paul Simon ; Samuel Francis Smith ; Stephen Sondheim Writer: John Higgins (arr.) ; Leonard Bernstein ; Samuel A.

Ward ; Thesaurus Musicus ; Tom Anderson (arr.) Title: Cool Artist: Mickey Calin & 'The Jets' ; Tucker Smith & 'The Jets' Lyricist: Stephen Sondheim Seven Fascinating Facts About Leonard Bernstein- Cecilia Ibru Seven of the Most Fascinating Facts About Leonard Bernstein Posted on by Cecilia Ibru • 0 Comments Leonard Bernstein was the first American conductor to achieve international fame for his talents, and many fans of classical music continue to consider him one of the greatest conductors of the last century. Born in 1918 in Lawrence, Massachusetts, Bernstein led a dazzling career that lasted until his death in New York City in 1990. His superlative musicianship – he was also a renowned composer and a noted pianist – and flamboyant style at the podium drew audiences to many of his performances around the world. Bernstein’s career was filled with accomplishment at a high level. Here are seven reasons why he remains a preeminent figure in his field: 1. He was a pioneer in democratizing music education.

In a series of Young People’s Concerts, broadcast live on television, he provided an education in classical music to a wide audience of children and adults who may not otherwise have been unable to attend the concert. Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic performed their first Young People’s Concert in January 1958, and he continued to lead 52 additional performances over the next 14 years. The Young People’s Concerts devoted time to exploring the works of composers such as Aaron Copland, Dmitri Shostakovich, Gustav Holst, Charles Ives, and more. The programs delved into the basics of music theory, with individual episodes dedicated to explaining topics such as musical modes and intervals. 2. He composed the score for West Side Story. Bernstein collaborated with Stephen Sondheim and Jerome Robbins to compose the score for the beloved 1957 musical. His work gained even more widespread fame when the movie version premiered in 1961. Starring Natalie Wood, Rita Moreno, George Chakiris, and Richard Beymer, the modern-day Romeo and Juliet story was set amid the street gangs of New York. Bernstein’s music is defined by a characteristic creative exuberance.

He identifies with the urban, multicultural America that expanded throughout the post-World War II years. 3. He earned an Academy Award nomination for the music he composed for On the Waterfront. In the 1954 film starring Marlon Brando and directed by Elia Kazan, Bernstein’s music defines the stark brutality of much of the story, as well as its poignant love scenes. Bernstein was only 35 years old and already a major international celebrity when he was approached to contribute to the film. Initially, he hesitated. He felt that as a composer, it would not be rewarding to create background music that, by its very nature, needed to remain unobtrusive. Yet he completed the task and later wrote bemusedly about the stress involved in seeing parts of his work cut during the film editing process. 4. He was the first American to conduct a performance at La Scala in Milan. In 1953, Bernstein became the first-ever U.S.-born conductor to lead a performance at Teatro alla Scala, Milan’s premier opera house. At Teatro alla Scala, he directed renowned soprano Maria Callas in Medea by Luigi Cherubini and La Sonnambula by Vincenzo Bellini.

5. He received seven Emmy Awards. Bernstein earned a total of 13 Emmy nominations for his work in television from 1957 to 1987. He won seven times, including nods for his work overseeing the Young People’s Concerts on CBS. He earned his final Primetime Emmy win for Outstanding Individual Achievement in Classical Music-Dance Programming-Performing for his work on the 1987 television special entitled Carnegie Hall: The Grand Reopening. The special, which was timed to coincide with the post-renovation opening of the beloved concert venue, featured a long list of other stars, including violinist Isaac Stern, cellist Yo-Yo Ma, conductor Zubin Mehta, and singers Lena Horne, Liza Minnelli, and Frank Sinatra. 6. He was an iconic interpreter of the works of Gustav Mahler. Bernstein’s discography includes definitive recordings of pieces by a broad range of the world’s composers. He recorded performances of works by Brahms, Debussy, Tchaikovsky, Gershwin, and many others. With the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, he recorded the entire body of Beethoven’s symphonic works.

Yet for many listeners, Bernstein is indelibly associated with the work of Gustav Mahler, whose massive symphonies straddle the 19th and 20th centuries in their style and outlook. Critics have noted Bernstein’s attention to detail, emotional identification with Mahler’s music, and his ability to evoke the color, drama, and excitement inherent in the great composer’s work. 7. He was an accomplished author. Bernstein published The Joy of Music in 1957, a collection of his lectures on the subject. Other titles followed, including The Infinite Variety of Music in 1966 and a book taken from a series of his lectures at Harvard University titled The Unanswered Question. The last title, which appeared in 1973, covered a wide range of material. In these lectures, Bernstein explored music from an international perspective. He discussed folk songs, Hindu ragas, pop music, and classical composers such as Mozart. He applied a deep poetic sensibility to his analysis of the symbolism and language of music. The Unanswered Question, The Joy of Music, and The Infinite Variety of Music all remain in print.

Question: Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim are most usually associated with which work?
Answer: West Side Story