Ernst von Dohnányi: A Song of Life

Eight: 1948-1949

We arrived in Buenos Aires on 4 April 1948. It was a perfect spring afternoon: the sun was shining and the plants were in full bloom. Dohnányi was welcomed by a solemn reception that included Aœrpád Bubik as well as several Argentinean journalists and musicians. Mr. Bubik smiled broadly when he told Dohnányi about the splendid house he had rented for us in Martinez, the elegant villa quarter of Buenos Aires. It had been difficult to find a house; lodgings were scarce because of the rent control enforced by the Government. As it was, we had to secretly pay a much higher rent then the regulations permitted. During the journey to our new home, Mr. Bubik told us about the cultural environment of Buenos Aires. “Are the people here musical?” I asked. Mr. Bubik shrugged his shoulders. “Who can tell? It seems like they are not very interested in music, but they do like piano playing. With good publicity a concert can be turned into a fashionable social event, and they will stream to it. It’s good that you are a pianist, Maestro, because, as I told you, the people here prefer the piano to all other music instruments.” We were nevertheless concerned, because Dohnányi had never appeared in Argentina, and his records were not even for sale here. Other than the avid music lovers, the Argentineans knew little about Dohnányi. We also began to realize that Mr. Bubik could have done more to ensure the success of Dohnányi’s recitals. For one thing, no season tickets had been sold for the six concerts. Although such subscriptions were customary in Argentina, the overly enthusiastic Mr. Bubik did not consider them necessary , and, having found difficulty in arranging them, had dropped the matter. “The hall will be sold out whether there are season tickets or not,” he claimed. In the meanwhile, we had no money. We had come to Argentina with first-class tickets because Mr. Bubik had told us that it was socially disastrous to be considered poor, especially if one was an artist. He had instructed Dohnányi to carefully avoid any sign that he was not financially well off. We had financed all our expenses with the loan from John Kirn EIGHT 1948–1949  170 | Ernst von Dohnányi and were now committed to paying a high rent for a luxurious house that we also had to furnish. “I could find a job,” I volunteered. “I have learned to speak Spanish almost fluently. This would help.” “God forbid!” Mr. Bubik warned in horror. “What would people say if Dohnányi’s niece had to work for a few wretched pesos? Class differences and conventions are more extreme here than in Europe. You may write books, if you would like, but there will be no need for money. It will stream to the Maestro.” Unfortunately, the first concert was not scheduled until the end of the month. After some discussion it was decided that Mr. Bubik would secretly take the jewelry I had safeguarded through all the disasters to a pawnbroker . Dohnányi insisted that his pearl tiepin and gold cufflinks should also be pawned, but we flatly refused. All of our bitterness vanished when we saw the elegant, richly decorated shops of Martinez. We all stopped in amazement to stare at a roast pork displayed in a store window, surrounded by all kinds of delicacies that made our mouths water. “Is all this for sale?” Dohnányi asked wonderingly. “Naturally,” Mr. Bubik said, laughing. “And without coupons. Let’s buy some of it for your first supper in your new home!” This new home was a splendid villa surrounded by a small but exquisite garden. With its balconies, huge rooms, and broad marble stairway, it looked like a luxurious home in a Hollywood movie. With Dohnányi leading we went from floor to floor and from room to room of our wonderful new home. We stopped for a moment on the spacious balcony adjoining his study and looked up at the stars. Dohnányi frowned. “I do not like these stars,” he said. “They disturb me. I am too accustomed to the sky we had in Europe. I wonder if I shall ever be able to create under the strange constellations in this New World.” Mr. Bubik had already furnished the dining room, of course on credit, and there were comfortable beds in each bedroom. While Fräulein Hermine warmed...