Godowsky, Leopold. (1870–1938). Archive of Autograph Letters.
A very interesting collection of letters from the great pianist and composer, written from 1917 to 1931 to his longtime assistant, Maurice Aronson, and his wife Vera Aronson. In the ten autograph letters, five autograph postcards, and one typed letter signed, Godowsky's larger-than-life personality comes through as he writes, often at length, about his busy touring schedule, teaching engagements, compositions and publications, and family news. Sometimes signing benevolently as "Uncle Leo," he encourages the Aronsons in their own musical pursuits. In later letters, during the period after his paralyzing stroke and the deaths of his son and wife, he confesses his depression and ill health to the Aronsons as trusted friends. With only some contemporary marks in colored pencil, the letters are in fine condition and very legible, ranging in size from 5 x 8 to 7 x 11 inches. Also included are two loose pages from incomplete letters, as well as a typed letter to Godowsky's son Leopold Jr. An important and intimate record of the very highly-regarded pianist who, according to Ferruccio Busoni, was one of the only composers to have added anything of significance to keyboard writing since Franz Liszt.
In the earliest letter included [2 pp. on letterhead of the Art Publication Society, St. Louis; July 26, 1917] Godowsky, "in the midst of most arduous work," thanks Aronson for his wish to write his biography: "The question is, how many will be interested enough in the subject to justify the publication of it? I don't feel that I am of enough importance to have a separate biography. However... I have no objection to your doing it. I thank you for the kind thought." The following month, Godowsky writes [3 pp.; August 30, 1917] to thank the Aronsons and Mrs. Kaplun [apparently Vera Aronson's mother] for having him as a guest, and also mentions his pleasure at meeting the pianist Alexander Raab: "He is charming and very talented fellow. His and your collaboration helped in getting the fingering ready in time for Fischer." Later that same year, Godowsky writes from New York [2 pp. typed; November 1, 1917] in reference to Aronson's edition of one of Godowsky's works, for publication by the Art Publication Society: "I am sending your editions of the pieces and Pfefferkorns to St. Louis. I found several mistakes in your copy and corrected them... Your editions fail to cover the ground to the extent of Pfefferkorns' and I am afraid that the people in St. Louis may criticize that fact. However, I will do my best to put you in good favor and I will see whether we cannot systematize your editions to correspond to our established scheme..." He goes on to report: "My recital here was a great success. I played exceptionally well and produced a strong impression..."
The following year, Godowsky writes from New York shortly before traveling to Chicago [6 pp.; May 10, 1918], reporting that his wife has recovered after a serious illness and detailing his many engagements and recent successes. With many students requesting lessons at $40 per hour, he writes that he "should expect about $20,000 for the summer work," and concludes by remarking, "Mrs. Godowsky gave me a scare which almost killed me. I deserve now more cheerful times!... Don't complain about anything as long as your health is good." A month later in Los Angeles, Godowsky writes [4 pp.; June 25, 1918] to report on his masterclasses on the West Coast: "I found a number of active pupil applicants inadequate for a master class... The dignity of the class and my own conscience induced me to take a firm stand in regard to the standards to be maintained." One leaf from another incomplete letter, on the same letterhead and apparently from the same summer, gives Godowsky's temporary address in Santa Monica and mentions that he is about to introduce his sons to Charlie Chaplin, whom he describes as "the de Pachmann of the Film (in the sense of clownish and freakish acts, not otherwise)." In the next letter, from Portland, Oregon after his masterclasses have ended [6 pp.; September 21, 1918] Godowsky reports that "My novel idea of a teaching tour was more successful than I ever dared to hope... My idea will now be emulated by other artists. Ysaye is extremely anxious to link his instruction to mine and establish violin classes in the same cities and at the same time." The final signed page from an incomplete typed letter, mentioning masterclasses in Los Angeles, Seattle, and Kansas City, also appears to date from ca. 1918.
The next letter [4 pp. with envelope; February 6, 1922] is addressed to Vera Aronson and invites her to travel to Michigan to hear Godowsky play: "If you refuse I shall never ask you again... It would do you good to have a little change and it would do me good to have with me." The following year, Godowsky writes to Vera from Shanghai [4 pp. with envelope; January 12, 1923] asking about her trip to Europe and firmly instructing her to write to him in Asia: "I hope you will feel happy now that you realize that, after all, U.S.A. is not such an impossible country...I am really deeply interested in your welfare and wish you all happiness on Earth. What have you done with your piano? Are you studying diligently?... Give me a full account of yourself."
After a gap of several years, the next letter [2 pp. with envelope; December 13, 1928] finds Godowsky in New York and about to leave for another tour of the Far East: "I will presumably leave with the Kreislers on the S.S. Olympia, on the night of Dec. 21st... My Wall Street deals are somewhat better, but still much below the former level. I do hope for better times." A postcard [May 21, 1929] from Berlin echoes this gloomy outlook: "Things seem sad in advancing years, when memories of youth make one realize the fading of time and ebbing of life." In the next letter, from Paris [8 pp. with envelope; January 29, 1930], Godowsky, shortly before his career-ending stroke, has sunk into ill health and a depression, but reports that he is playing better than ever: "I am so nervous and depressed that I am afraid of myself and my shadow. I suffer from insomnia, spells of anxiety and fear. I dread the night and hate the day... All in all - I am a schlemiel!!! However... I never played so well, nor memorized so fast as I am doing now. All my compositions sound to me infinitely better than ever before." After mentioning a trip to Berlin, the death of several friends, including Berlin Philharmonie director Siegfried Landeker, and the financial strain of traveling with his wife and grown children, and reports angrily: "Your sister did not even make an attempt to pay. I am suing her for the $400. She is in my estimation the most objectionable and disgusting type of woman hood. I despise her!" Some time later [6 pp.; May 9, 1931] Godowsky writes that he is unexpectedly still in Berlin, having felt forced to stay by Landeker's unpleasant widow: "She is heartless, unjust, spiteful, mean, inconsiderate, cruel and narrow-minded... Knowing you as I do, I had to open my heart to you, to unload my indignation." He reports that Berlin is sadly not the city it once was ("The pettiness of the Germans provoke my ire") and mentions seeing Glazounow and the composer Vladimir Metzl.
A postcard from Cannes [May 21, 1933] reflects Godowsky's state of mind later in life, shortly before his wife's death: "No news. Mrs. G. feels very badly and is distressingly ill.. I feel terribly discouraged and depressed. Hope to be in New York June 10th." Three last postcards from Washington D.C. to the Aronsons and Mrs. Kaplun [April 8 and 9, 1935] report on a disappointing trip: "Program Bach-Haendel, conducted by Hanson of Rochester. It was boring... This morning heard Kolisch Quartet. Program: Beethoven, Alban Berg and Bartok. The two last-named quartets too frightful for words!"
Also included with the letters is a brief typed letter from Leonard A. Shine to Leopold Godowsky [Jr.] dated June 19, 1958, sending Godowsky a clipping about pianist Van Cliburn.
Godowsky, Leopold. (1870–1938). Archive of Autograph Letters.
A very interesting collection of letters from the great pianist and composer, written from 1917 to 1931 to his longtime assistant, Maurice Aronson, and his wife Vera Aronson. In the ten autograph letters, five autograph postcards, and one typed letter signed, Godowsky's larger-than-life personality comes through as he writes, often at length, about his busy touring schedule, teaching engagements, compositions and publications, and family news. Sometimes signing benevolently as "Uncle Leo," he encourages the Aronsons in their own musical pursuits. In later letters, during the period after his paralyzing stroke and the deaths of his son and wife, he confesses his depression and ill health to the Aronsons as trusted friends. With only some contemporary marks in colored pencil, the letters are in fine condition and very legible, ranging in size from 5 x 8 to 7 x 11 inches. Also included are two loose pages from incomplete letters, as well as a typed letter to Godowsky's son Leopold Jr. An important and intimate record of the very highly-regarded pianist who, according to Ferruccio Busoni, was one of the only composers to have added anything of significance to keyboard writing since Franz Liszt.
In the earliest letter included [2 pp. on letterhead of the Art Publication Society, St. Louis; July 26, 1917] Godowsky, "in the midst of most arduous work," thanks Aronson for his wish to write his biography: "The question is, how many will be interested enough in the subject to justify the publication of it? I don't feel that I am of enough importance to have a separate biography. However... I have no objection to your doing it. I thank you for the kind thought." The following month, Godowsky writes [3 pp.; August 30, 1917] to thank the Aronsons and Mrs. Kaplun [apparently Vera Aronson's mother] for having him as a guest, and also mentions his pleasure at meeting the pianist Alexander Raab: "He is charming and very talented fellow. His and your collaboration helped in getting the fingering ready in time for Fischer." Later that same year, Godowsky writes from New York [2 pp. typed; November 1, 1917] in reference to Aronson's edition of one of Godowsky's works, for publication by the Art Publication Society: "I am sending your editions of the pieces and Pfefferkorns to St. Louis. I found several mistakes in your copy and corrected them... Your editions fail to cover the ground to the extent of Pfefferkorns' and I am afraid that the people in St. Louis may criticize that fact. However, I will do my best to put you in good favor and I will see whether we cannot systematize your editions to correspond to our established scheme..." He goes on to report: "My recital here was a great success. I played exceptionally well and produced a strong impression..."
The following year, Godowsky writes from New York shortly before traveling to Chicago [6 pp.; May 10, 1918], reporting that his wife has recovered after a serious illness and detailing his many engagements and recent successes. With many students requesting lessons at $40 per hour, he writes that he "should expect about $20,000 for the summer work," and concludes by remarking, "Mrs. Godowsky gave me a scare which almost killed me. I deserve now more cheerful times!... Don't complain about anything as long as your health is good." A month later in Los Angeles, Godowsky writes [4 pp.; June 25, 1918] to report on his masterclasses on the West Coast: "I found a number of active pupil applicants inadequate for a master class... The dignity of the class and my own conscience induced me to take a firm stand in regard to the standards to be maintained." One leaf from another incomplete letter, on the same letterhead and apparently from the same summer, gives Godowsky's temporary address in Santa Monica and mentions that he is about to introduce his sons to Charlie Chaplin, whom he describes as "the de Pachmann of the Film (in the sense of clownish and freakish acts, not otherwise)." In the next letter, from Portland, Oregon after his masterclasses have ended [6 pp.; September 21, 1918] Godowsky reports that "My novel idea of a teaching tour was more successful than I ever dared to hope... My idea will now be emulated by other artists. Ysaye is extremely anxious to link his instruction to mine and establish violin classes in the same cities and at the same time." The final signed page from an incomplete typed letter, mentioning masterclasses in Los Angeles, Seattle, and Kansas City, also appears to date from ca. 1918.
The next letter [4 pp. with envelope; February 6, 1922] is addressed to Vera Aronson and invites her to travel to Michigan to hear Godowsky play: "If you refuse I shall never ask you again... It would do you good to have a little change and it would do me good to have with me." The following year, Godowsky writes to Vera from Shanghai [4 pp. with envelope; January 12, 1923] asking about her trip to Europe and firmly instructing her to write to him in Asia: "I hope you will feel happy now that you realize that, after all, U.S.A. is not such an impossible country...I am really deeply interested in your welfare and wish you all happiness on Earth. What have you done with your piano? Are you studying diligently?... Give me a full account of yourself."
After a gap of several years, the next letter [2 pp. with envelope; December 13, 1928] finds Godowsky in New York and about to leave for another tour of the Far East: "I will presumably leave with the Kreislers on the S.S. Olympia, on the night of Dec. 21st... My Wall Street deals are somewhat better, but still much below the former level. I do hope for better times." A postcard [May 21, 1929] from Berlin echoes this gloomy outlook: "Things seem sad in advancing years, when memories of youth make one realize the fading of time and ebbing of life." In the next letter, from Paris [8 pp. with envelope; January 29, 1930], Godowsky, shortly before his career-ending stroke, has sunk into ill health and a depression, but reports that he is playing better than ever: "I am so nervous and depressed that I am afraid of myself and my shadow. I suffer from insomnia, spells of anxiety and fear. I dread the night and hate the day... All in all - I am a schlemiel!!! However... I never played so well, nor memorized so fast as I am doing now. All my compositions sound to me infinitely better than ever before." After mentioning a trip to Berlin, the death of several friends, including Berlin Philharmonie director Siegfried Landeker, and the financial strain of traveling with his wife and grown children, and reports angrily: "Your sister did not even make an attempt to pay. I am suing her for the $400. She is in my estimation the most objectionable and disgusting type of woman hood. I despise her!" Some time later [6 pp.; May 9, 1931] Godowsky writes that he is unexpectedly still in Berlin, having felt forced to stay by Landeker's unpleasant widow: "She is heartless, unjust, spiteful, mean, inconsiderate, cruel and narrow-minded... Knowing you as I do, I had to open my heart to you, to unload my indignation." He reports that Berlin is sadly not the city it once was ("The pettiness of the Germans provoke my ire") and mentions seeing Glazounow and the composer Vladimir Metzl.
A postcard from Cannes [May 21, 1933] reflects Godowsky's state of mind later in life, shortly before his wife's death: "No news. Mrs. G. feels very badly and is distressingly ill.. I feel terribly discouraged and depressed. Hope to be in New York June 10th." Three last postcards from Washington D.C. to the Aronsons and Mrs. Kaplun [April 8 and 9, 1935] report on a disappointing trip: "Program Bach-Haendel, conducted by Hanson of Rochester. It was boring... This morning heard Kolisch Quartet. Program: Beethoven, Alban Berg and Bartok. The two last-named quartets too frightful for words!"
Also included with the letters is a brief typed letter from Leonard A. Shine to Leopold Godowsky [Jr.] dated June 19, 1958, sending Godowsky a clipping about pianist Van Cliburn.