Searching for Schoenberg

Located it! Brentwood Country Mart on 26th Street, established 1948, where, apparently (according Dorothy Lamb Crawford's book A Windfall of Composers), composer Arnold Schoenberg called out to Marta Feuchtwanger that he did not have syphilis.

Schoenberg was angry that in his recent novel, Doctor Faustus, Thomas Mann had ascribed the invention of 12-tone technique to Mann's hero, Adrian Leverkühn, and that Mann had made Leverkühn syphilitic. Feuchtwanger was grateful Schoenberg had called out in German.

Bertolt Brecht's house is a mile down the street. Brecht was no longer in the United States in 1948 (he'd left in 1947) but the fact does illustrate how all these artists lived within coo-ee of each other in Los Angeles.

For my article on the emigre composers in Los Angeles in the 1930s and 40s, please go to my blog post, A Culture in Exile, April 25 2013.

The contempt for distance

On the way out to Princeton again, I saw a sign at Newark that made me think about the range of meaning you can get into four English words. The side of a pizza parlor displayed the proud boast, 'A Down Neck Tradition'. What on earth does this mean? You surely need to consider secondary or tertiary meanings in the word 'Neck'. The best I can imagine is that it's a place name, as in 'I live in Down Neck'. There's a place over on Long Island called Great Neck, for example. I've known for a long time that the Australian aboriginal languages are polysemous, but I don't think I ever realised quite how much English is. Then, again, newspaper headlines thrive on the ability to 'pack meaning'.

I quite like the look of Newark, but the thermometer peaked at 108F here last week, and since then I've felt sorry for the place.

I noticed, walking around Princeton, that the university was founded out there in 1746. I imagine it would have been a 'long way out' then. This is something that has impressed me about Americans. Australians have made a big deal out of 'the tyranny of distance' as if we have been the only ones to confront it, but Americans have actually shown disregard for it. In days before modern transport, they set up universities miles from the big centres. They even had to contend with blizzards which we don't have.

We walked past a house today (65 Stockton Street) that was Thomas Mann's from 1938 to 1941. 'This town is like a park,' he once wrote, 'with wonderful opportunities for walks and with astonishing trees that now, during Indian summer, glow in the most magnificent colors.' Princeton was also Einstein's hometown from 1933. Could Australian 'country towns' boast this intellectual lineage? Last week we were in Tanglewood, 3 hrs from Boston, 2 1/2 from New York. It's amazing to think that the Boston Symphony Orchestra has made its summer home out there for 70 odd years. Could we host a similar festival in the Australian countryside? Sure, there's Huntington. But - for three months?

It may have something to do with the congeniality of the surroundings...

the fact that the Berkshires are actually an escape from the harshness of summer. But I fear that in Australia there is an assumption that the arts are a city pursuit. I noticed a plaque out at Princeton commemorating the composition of the song 'Old Nassau' in a house back in 1850.

 

It's not Lotte in Weimar nor part of the Joseph books, but, before New Jersey Transit brought Princeton within an hour and a half of Penn Station, it was certainly the country back then.

At least we're also capable of newspaper meanings. 'Eel Gets Chop' - what do you think that means?