Walking Freely on Firm Ground: Letters to Mary Virginia Foreman 1935–1951 by Artur Schnabel (review)

There is no doubt that the pianist and composer Artur Schnabel was a man of strong opinions: he made no secret of his preferences in piano manufacturers, the impact of sound recording on artistic creation, and his devotion to the music of Beethoven, Mozart, and Schubert. In this collection of letters, we see another side of his personality, as Schnabel candidly describes his feelings on politics, differences in European and American society and cultural values, and his deep affection for a young woman who was the recipient of more than 400 letters during their friendship. Through these letters to an aspiring pianist and music student, a portrait of Schnabel emerges to show an artist integrally connected to the world around him, both as a musician–composer and as an intellectual.

The exact nature of Mary Virginia Foreman Le Garrec’s relationship with Schnabel is rather ambiguous. The book’s preface gives a recounting of their first meeting as well as some details about Foreman’s life after Schnabel’s death. Foreman herself wrote two books about Schnabel, and in 2002 donated his letters to her to the Berlin Akademie der Künste; the letters selected for this anthology are drawn from that archive. Schnabel’s first letters to Foreman date from January 1935 and occur somewhat regularly in a biweekly pattern until two months before his death in 1951.

This collection provides readers with an in-depth view of the life of a musical virtuoso and composer of the mid-twentieth century. Schnabel describes in great detail the pitfalls of organizing concert series, the less than optimum conditions for recording sessions, and the struggle to integrate the economic necessity of touring with the need for the time and reflection required for musical composition. While these problems may not be unique to Schnabel, his letters (many written during the years of the Second World War), provide a compelling portrait showing how musicians and performing arts are adversely affected by the war and its aftermath. In poignant letters from October 1938, as the conflict drew closer to Italy, Schnabel describes his remorse at leaving his beloved home in Tremezzo, wondering when and if he would ever be permitted to return to a place that brought him not only solace from a hectic performance schedule, but was also the birthplace of much musical productivity. Schnabel laments the slight given to conductor Otto Klemperer who, because of his German background and the political climate, was not given the position of principal conductor at two major U.S. orchestras, pointing out the helplessness of artists within the wider pool of politics. While Schnabel admits to Foreman that he considers himself privileged because of his ability to travel out of Europe, he worries about the uncertainty of his future as he waits to see which country may offer him and his family asylum. Perhaps the most moving letter in the collection dates from July 1946, as Schnabel describes postcards sent to his cousin by his mother, describing her last days in a concentration camp before her death at the hands of the Nazis. That Schnabel lived through these emotionally charged events is tragic; that he was able to continuously work as a performer and composer as well is extraordinary.

As primary source documents, these letters give readers a window into the creation of Schnabel’s musical compositions and supply a context for the integration of his life and art. Despite his hectic schedule of public performances, recording sessions, master classes, and lectures, Schnabel was a composer of both large and small scale musical works. In his letters, Schnabel outlines his compositional process: a case in point is his Two Movements for Chorus and Orchestra. In one letter, he mentions the genesis of the work, then in subsequent messages, he elaborates on the selection of text, and finally, the orchestral...