We have several motivations for choosing today’s A Reason To Smile. Most simply, it offers a journey into sublime beauty. At a time when the world is struggling with ugliness, horror, and sadness, when we are forced to question the kinship of our common humanity, it is essential that we reflect on the wonders that the human mind can create and how it can bind us to one another.
We are featuring two people today who had an inspiring dialogue across centuries through the power of their art: the German composer Ludwig van Beethoven and the American composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein. Their collaboration spoke to the endurance of music and how exquisitely it can expand the limits of our quotidian existence.
Beethoven is obviously one of the greats of Western music, and Lenny, as he was commonly known, was no slouch himself. Not only was he an inspiring creator of new compositions (like the musical “West Side Story”) and a famed conductor, he was also a popularizer of classical music to the public. He had a genius for teaching and communication, able to allow even those who could not read a single note to understand what music meant, how it worked, and from where its inspiration came.
Bernstein’s own life story can also give us a reason for hope as we see the world pulled apart. He was Jewish and had a long affiliation with Israel, dating back to its founding in the wake of the Holocaust. But he also was renowned for his work with German and Austrian orchestras, especially the famed Vienna Philharmonic. In 1966, just a little over 20 years after the end of the war, he became the first American to conduct the orchestra and later was celebrated as an “Honorary Member.” That a Jewish musician could have such a deep connection to an orchestra that had only 25 years earlier purged its Jewish members under Nazi rule and sent seven of them to their deaths is a powerful symbol that hatred is not inevitable.
Another inspirational moment for our current times comes from a concert Bernstein conducted on Christmas Day 1989 in Berlin. Many of you may remember it. An estimated 100 million people tuned in around the world. The work before him was Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and its famed “Ode to Joy” (which Bernstein reworked as “Ode to Freedom”). The occasion was a joyous celebration of the tearing down of the Berlin Wall a month earlier. Leading a group of musicians from Germany and the four “Occupation Powers” (the Soviet Union, the United States, Great Britain, and France) and a chorus that combined singers from East and West Germany, the maestro took the podium for one of the last great acts of his public life.
For all of us who had lived through World War II and the Cold War, those were heady days of peace when anything seemed possible. But we should remember that there had been a time when those reconciliations seemed as distant as peace does today in places like Ukraine, the Middle East, and other war zones. Let us never forget that sometimes the seemingly impossible is possible. That a gay Jewish man can go into what was once the capital of Nazi rule and the most visible exemplification of the Cold War and celebrate a new era of unity and freedom is a beacon of hope for our current darkness.
We are offering three wonderful and very different videos today of Bernstein’s collaboration with Beethoven. The first is Lenny talking about the genius of Beethoven and specifically his Third Symphony, the “Eroica,” one of the most revered:
Here is Bernstein conducting the Vienna Philharmonic in a performance of the work:
And last, but certainly not least, if you are still interested in more Bernstein/Beethoven, here is that Christmas 1989 concert from Berlin of the Ninth. You can listen to the whole thing, of course. If you want to skip to the “Ode To Freedom” section, it begins around 1:01:47.
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I am not an optimist by inclination. I am persuaded by what I have seen in the course of a long life, and still more by the histories I've read, that "hope" is not an especially useful concept. It functions as an article of faith rather than a way to describe the world as it is.
The world's ebbs and flows are what they are. Intervals of peace are succeeded by intervals of madness, waves of serenity by tides of despair. Errors in judgment and diplomacy tend to compound while the most brilliant successes are on the whole ephemeral.
Many of us grew up basking in the reassurance of the famous Anne Frank quotation that "In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart."
But if one goes on to read of Anne's life after the diary has ended and the echo of that sweet, childish utterance has faded away, one encounters the horrors of Bergen-Belsen, the sadistic cruelty of the guards, the sorrow and wretchedness and filth, the sheer physical and emotional misery experienced by Anne and her sister Margot as they lost hope, grew ill, and died (Anne was just 15, Margot 18). The sweetness of that quotation leaves a bitter aftertaste indeed.
I find I do not believe that, in spite of everything, people are really good at heart. A great many people are not at all good at heart. If they were, the world's sufferings would be considerably less than they are.
Nevertheless those who create, who nurture, who produce music or paintings or poems or novels, who produce treatments and even cures for deadly diseases, who are scholars, artists, naturalists, scientists, those who love in the face of hate, who do the right thing when the wrong thing would be so much easier---what they produce is not hope, but life itself: a reason to live and to persevere in spite of all the horrors, and with no guarantee that anything will get better.
Without those remarkable people, human existence would be, perhaps, entirely unbearable. Because of them, there are gleams of gold in the darkness.
Dearest Dan and Elliot: I was utterly delighted to behold your Reason to Smile today -- and smile I did. My brother, sister, and I spend a lot of our time reminding the world about our father's rich and inspiring legacy. That, combined with our longtime admiration for you, Dan -- I mean, there you were in our living room every night -- made reading today's Steady post an utterly joyful surprise. We're so glad you're a Lenny fan! Warmest wishes from us three Bernsteins -- Jamie, Alexander, and Nina.