Ernst von Dohnányi: A Song of Life

Nine: 1949-1953

It was late in the evening when we arrived at the Tallahassee airport. Dean Kuersteiner was out of town, so we were greeted by his charming wife and Owen Sellers, the Dean’s Assistant who would later become one of our closest friends. Mr. Sellers and Mrs. Kuersteiner drove us to a spacious wooden house with four big, furnished rooms and a porch, which Dohn ányi decided would be his study. The large kitchen included a refrigerator, an electric stove, and numerous cooking utensils. There was also a telephone , and Mr. Sellers reminded us to call if we needed something. We hardly slept that night because we wanted to explore every corner of our new home. The house was surrounded by a garden fragrant with blooming flowers and was illuminated by stars. When Dohnányi recognized the same stars that he had known so well in Hungary, he gave a sigh of relief. Dohn ányi heard the song of a bird; it was beautiful, resembling the voice of a nightingale. We learned later that it was the “Nightingale of the South,” the mockingbird. There were red robins fluttering around in the moonlight, and a gray squirrel climbed up the screen of a window and stared at us with his wide, shiny little eyes. “So we now have flowers, squirrels, and birds—many birds,” Dohnányi said with a smile. “I am pleased; I have always loved birds. We must never have cats, because they could destroy our birds.” A year later, however, we adopted a cat. Dohnányi had not changed his mind; in fact, he energetically opposed our keeping the cat. He only conceded when he learned that the poor animal was sick and homeless. It was against Dohnányi’s principles to refuse asylum for destitute creatures, even if they happened to be cats. The next day, when Dohnányi first visited the University, his enthusiasm increased. “We have a wonderful music building,” he said. “Many tell me it’s one of the finest in the United States. It’s all air-conditioned, with a fine hall. I have a comfortable, spacious room, with two pianos. Also, my schedule is easy: just six hours weekly. I can teach without exhausting myself NINE 1949–1953  190 | Ernst von Dohnányi and relax as my doctor in New York advised.” Dohnányi told us that his room was next to the room of Professor Franciszek Zachara, who was a Polish pianist and composer. He became Dohnányi’s closest friend, and they met daily to share all their little joys and sorrows. Likewise, Mrs. Zachara became my best friend. They, and most of the faculty members at the Florida State University, welcomed Dohnányi warmly and did their best to make Tallahassee an enjoyable place for him. Mrs. Schulhof in New York informed Dohnányi that Fräulein Hermine and Julius were being detained at Ellis Island by the Immigration Office, even though their papers were perfectly in order. It seemed that one of the Immigration officials was suspicious because they were traveling with twenty-one cases, and he had held them back for further investigation . Before the two could be released Dohnányi had to pay a guarantee of five hundred dollars for each of them. After some difficulty, Dohnányi managed to borrow the thousand dollars from the bank, further increasing his debt. Dohnányi’s relaxed schedule at the University allowed him to dedicate sufficient time to his new composition, his Second Violin Concerto, op. 42, which he dedicated to the talented young American violinist Frances Magnes. Dohnányi had started this work in Tucumán, where he had completed the first two movements, and was now completing the last one. Although it was November, the days were still hot. The breezes at night, however, were cool and refreshing. After sunset the Maestro and I would take long walks on the streets, which were bordered by ancient oak trees with Spanish moss hanging from their huge branches. During the days, Dohnányi would happily walk along the paths of the University campus, enjoying the oak trees, the flourishing shrubs, the green palms, and the bright green lawn that was usually buzzing with young people. Dohnányi often spent his free time in the garden admiring the lawn and plants. “Tallahassee is a most picturesque town,” he would say with an affectionate smile. “Although a capital, it’s as silent and tranquil as a country town.” Tallahassee, with...