When the depression began, I was in Europe. After a while I came
back and lived with my family in the Pacific Palisades. I had read
somewhere that Richard Buhlig, the pianist, had years before in
Berlin given the first performance of Schoenberg’s Opus 11. I
thought to myself: He probably lives right here in Los Angeles. So
I looked in the phone book and, sure enough, there was his name. I
called him up and said, “I’d like to hear you play the Schoenberg
pieces.” He said he wasn’t contemplating giving a recital. I said,
“Well, surely, you play at home. Couldn’t I come over one day and
hear the Opus 11?” He said, “Certainly not.” He hung up. ¶ Then,
about a year later, the family had to give up the house in the
Palisades. Mother and Dad went to an apartment in Los Angeles. I
found an auto court in Santa Monica where, in exchange for doing
the gardening, I got an apartment to live in and a large room back
of the court over the garages, which I used as a lecture hall. I was
nineteen years old and enthusiastic about modern music and
painting. I went from house to house in Santa Monica explaining
this to the housewives. I offered ten lectures for $2.50. I said,
“I will learn each week something about the subject that I will
then lecture on.” ¶ Well, the week came for my lecture on
Schoenberg. Except for a minuet, Opus 25, his music was too
difficult for me to play. No recordings were then available. I
thought of Richard Buhlig. I decided not to telephone him but to go
directly to his house and visit him. I hitchhiked into Los Angeles,
arriving at his house at noon. He wasn’t home. I took a pepper
bough off a tree and, pulling off the leaves one by one, recited,
“He’ll come home; he won’t; he’ll come home . . .” It always
turned out He’ll come home. He did. At midnight. I explained I’d
been waiting to see him for twelve hours. He invited me into the
house. When I asked him to illustrate my lecture on Schoenberg, he
said, “Certainly not.” However, he said he’d like to see some of my
compositions, and we made an appointment for the following week. |