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(Editor’s Note: Our Austrian correspondent’s interim report on Gloria Soloway’s ubiquity was carried in last month’s Woodwind Magazine This month we have a detailed rendering by the fabulous Gloria herself. For back- ground material, readers are referred to W.M., Volume 2, No. 10).
es! It is really that long, lost bassoonist making her “yearly” report … for it seems to be just that. At the time the last piece appeared, I was in Salzburg for the Festival … and at the pre- cise moment when I received my copies of W.M., I hap- pened to be around most of the members of the Wien Philharmonic, who took quite an interest in reading the article … much to my embarrassment! After that, I joined them to hear them record an octet for winds by Alexander Uhl (one of the big composers in Wien). And so began the first of many interesting and varied things I was treated to in Salzburg.
Because of my friendship with the musicians, I was able to hear every rehearsal that went on during the Festival. This included the operas, the Phil. concerts and the chamber music. Of the outstanding events, there were Fidelio, with Fuertwaengler conducting and Flagstad, who sadly was not too good. But it was Fuert’s show and the Leonore No. 3 Overture was something … played as I’ve never heard it! It was absolutely thrilling and electrifying. Several good con- certs of Fuert, and Kubelik. Unfortunately, the Festspielhaus, where all the concerts are held, is a ter- rible hall and the acoustics are so bad, it really did not do the orchestra justice. Then there was a private hearing for Fuert (which I was lucky to be asked to) of a new work by the orchestra’s English horn player, Prof. Hadamouvsky. A sextet for w.w.’s and harp are very interesting. And so the summer went … being pleasantly saturated by all this music, running into friends from the States, some of whom are studying and working in Paris … in particular Art Hoberman, flutist, who seems to be doing so well both in recitals and in conducting.
Before closing the “summer chapter,” I really should mention a word about the “lederhosen” … the national summer costume of the men. They are the short, suede pants that they all wear, including the Phil. men. They’re really marvelous and very practical. They are never supposed to be cleaned and the dirti- er they are, the more valuable. In many families, they are handed down from generation to generation to generation. They are worn with knee-length stockings and the whole outfit is really very quaint and colorful.
But, I must say, it took me a little while to get used to them for it seems to accentuate the knees and bellies … and really some were so funny!! But I grew to love them after a while and overlooked the variety of knees. Well … the time had now come (as it invariably does) to earn some money or return home. Since I was not quite ready for the latter, I had to think of a way to execute the former. Much as I would have like to return to Wien, it was really impossible to work there. (Ah, the trials of being a woman musician!) So bag and baggage and with Melba (Berke … my sopra- no singin’ gal friend from L.A. with whom I shared life in Wien), off we trooped to Rome. A two-day stopover in Venice proved delightful. We attended the opening night of a Contemporary music festival and Metropolitan first nights have nothing on Venetian first nights. All Venetian Society was there in all its spangles … and how they did glitter. Wish I could say the same for the program. One of the numbers was a new Hindemith Horn Concerto and played by … of all people … Dennis Brain, who must have come over for the Fest. I wasn’t too impressed with the concerto. Also in Venice bumped into a conductor friend of mine from Calif. … Gastone Usigli. On to Rome … scorching heat and likewise Italians! In the ensuing three day madness, I met and chatted with the man- ager of the Santa Cecilia Orch. and also another con- ductor, Carlo Zecchi, whom I had met in Salzburg. The information I succeeded in getting was that it is diffi- cult for women to get into orchestras and further- more, the music season in Italy doesn’t begin until December. It’s cooler then! Well… we did manage to see one of the last summer opera presentations and this was a thrill. It was held in the old Roman Baths … the Baths of Caracalla … a natural setting and a sim- ply gigantic stage, making one gasp at each new set. The opera was Carmen and sad to say, it was awful. But the sets were worth seeing in this wonderful sur- rounding. Ah, those Romans … they really must have had quite a life. Anyway, off we went again … Melba back to Wien … and I, as a last resort, to London.
Here the stumbling block was ye good ole union. Seems one has to live in England one year before one can even join. Ah well … it does have to protect its own. But in my six week sojourn, I had seen enough of the music picture and was very disappointed. Too much quantity and not enough quality. So many orchestras and so much music going on. There were only a few orchestras I felt were any good and among them was Barbirolli’s Halle Orch. from Manchester. They work very hard but there is a wonderful feeling
among them. They are crazy about B. and he about them. Quite a few women too … aside from the usual strings, there are 1st oboe, English horn, 1st trom- bone, a horn and tympani. I met and chatted with B. who was very sweet. Introduced me to the bassoon section. Later on, I had lunch with Charles Cracknell, the 1st bassoonist and a very nice person. The English seem to be very enthusiastic chamber music lovers and I had much fun joining a group to play the Shubert Octet, Beethoven Septet, as well as quintets. I attended rehearsals of the B.B.C. Orchestra, the London Philharmonic and the Philharmonica (the main recording orch.) and among the musicians I met with Archie Camden, (bassoon) Frederick Thurston (clarinet) and Alex Whittacker (oboe). It was wonder- ful meeting and chatting with them, but as I say, I was rather disappointed in the music in general. What I really did learn to appreciate was the English sense of humor … which is just marvelous. The bus conduc- tors especially … they seem to have a brand all their own which can either keep you in stitches for the whole ride, or make you feel less than “threepence”! Then, of course, there is the famous English tea, which is not only had in “high” afternoon, but “high” morning as well … (always served at rehearsals). The food situation … I’m sure you’ve heard about it … and it’s all true. Well … the time had now arrived when I exhausted what possibilities I thought there were (lit- tle did I know then!) and I made arrangements to set sail. My ticket being on the French Line, I was deter- mined to spend one last gay month in Paris. Somewhere in the midst of packing, I looked at a map and saw what I thought would make a nice detour … Paris via Holland and Belgium. I thought I’d spend about three days in Holland … see the canals, the marvelous Rembrandts (and the whole Dutch school of painting, which I love), and hear that famous orchestra, the Konzertgebouw.
And so it happened one morning … another life ago … that my two feet and faithful fagott touched Dutch soil. The three days went exactly as planned, but it was the fourth that became memorable. Through an introduction (from a friend in the States) I met Tibor de Machula (the orch’s marvelous 1st cel- list) who in turn had me meet the 1st cellist, who in turn had me meet the 1st fagottist, Thom de Klerk. That was the fourth day and in Thom’s factory. For not only does he play exquisite bassoon, but he has a factory where he makes all the woodwinds as well. Quite an unusual person, this Heer de Klerk. And another thing … much to the envy of we poor human, “reed strugglers,” he plays on reeds he’s been using for the past 15 years!! Don’t ask me how, but it’s absolutely so. And the sound he gets … to use the teenagers vernacular … is absolutely “creamy.” It real- ly is a continual wonder and joy for me to listen to
him. His velvet tone just ripples through the orches- tra. This was one of the things that struck me when I first heard the orchestra. Oh yes … he plays on one of the bassoons he made himself. Well, on with the story. Just as I was about to walk out the door, fate walked in. During the course of our goodbyes, I jok- ingly asked if he couldn’t use another bassoonist in the section. As a matter of fact, he could use an asso- ciate first. After giving this statement a hearty laugh, I suddenly realized he wasn’t joking. From that moment on, my life hasn’t been the same.
If this was a dream, I was sure I’d wake up swim- ming in the nearest canal! I arranged to play for Heer de Klerk and after not practicing for about 2 weeks I dashed home to put in a quick two hour session! After I played for him, he started to arrange an audition for the committee and four days and ten reeds later I found myself on a stage playing the Mozart Concerto and all the choice tidbits of the symphonic repertoire, with a scale thrown in for good measure. Among the listeners were Dr. Rudolph Mengelberg (nephew of the conductor), director of the Concertgebouw (here- inafter referred to as C.G.); the personnel manager of the orchestra and several of the first-chair men of the orchestra. Since they had to consult with other peo- ple and couldn’t come to a decision then, and since I completed my sight-seeing and was nervous about all my stuff I had already sent to Paris, I decided to leave and wait in Paris for an answer, which I could not con- ceive would be anything but “Sorry”. So off I went. A stopover in the Hague with a visit to another museum containing a fascinating collection of old instruments including a piccolo fagott. A day in Brussels — a love- ly city with its town hall and square surrounded by the picturesque guild houses. Even took in a concert — the L’Orchestre Nat’l (which was not good) and Edmund Kurtz playing the Khatchaturian Cello con- certo. And so Paris Finally! But it did not turn out to be “Paris finale” as 4 days later I received a telegram from the C. B. asking me to return! It was so utterly fantas- tic and I simply walked around as in a dream with the silliest grin plastered on my face from ear to ear! Seems this was mistaken for a flirtatious look by a Frenchman who got out at my “Metro” stop and fol- lowed me! Now just how could I explain in detail exactly in detail exactly what that earful grin was all about! After a merry chase along the Avenue de L’Opera, I succeeded in losing him and thereafter con- tinued my grinning with a low head. And so I returned and as a friend wrote later: “How much in Dutch could one person get!” The Orchestra is wonderful and of course it goes without saying how thrilled I am to play in it. Since Eduard Von Beinum, its permanent con- ductor more or less, is ill, we have guest conductors each speaking in his own native language, i.e. Klemperer and Krips speaking German, Jean Fournet
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— French and Hien Jordans — Dutch. Most Dutch people speak three or four languages anyway. I speak English with Thom, German with die Herren Odijk and Rood (2nd and Contra, respectively), a bit of French with several others and with the rest limited sen- tences with any Dutch I’ve been able to pick up! Such a language — a mixture of all including “Lower Slobovia”! (See Al Capp). The other women in the orchestra are three violinists and two harpists. I’m probably their only woman W. W. in its history and an American at that!
We rehearse practically every day and have three or four concerts a week. One of these is usually out- of-town, in either the Hague, Rotterdam or other cities. It’s all very interesting though sometimes when I really stop to think of it, it seems unbelievable. You’re probably very curious to hear something about the “incident” that occurred a few months ago, but as much as I’d like to write a bit about it, it would take much too long, and it is far too complicated to go into. It seemed to start out as one thing but via the newspapers et al, it snowballed into other things. I am certainly in no position to know all the political involvements and believe me it is very involved. So for that reason alone, I am not in a position to say anything. I have never been in such a situation but to say the least, it was educational. After three weeks, things were smoothed over and we resumed playing again. Enough for that! (Editor’s Note: the foregoing remarks refer to the orchestral strike of some months ago).
Just one more episode will bring you completely up-to-date on this “Fantasia”. You remember, I wrote you last about the Gramatti Concerto that was written especially for me last year in Wien? Well, several months ago I was invited by the Wiener Konzerthausgesellschaft to play it for their Fourth International Music Festival held in April. I was thrilled. What nicer way than that to return to your most loved city — Wein. The music city — at that! Since it came more or less at the time of our Easter vacation here, I could manage it very well. With spe- cial permission from Dr. Mengelberg, who allowed me a few extra days, I remained in Wein four weeks. During this time, I played six times. This included a concert in Salzburg where I played the Mozart Concerto at the Mozarteum. But doing the Festival was a lovely thing — all the wonderful artists con- nected with it — such as Pears, Britten, D. Maynor and many more.
Much modern music that was played, made for a very interesting two weeks. Though I couldn’t remain for the full two weeks of the Festival (had to return as Klemperer was beginning a Beethoven Cycle) the four weeks that I was there were completely mad and won- derful. Seeing all my Wiener Philharmonic friends
again, and going to operas, concerts and a fascinating folk song and dance group from Yugoslavia. Also prac- ticing, rehearsing with the orchestra, going to recep- tions and parties given for the artists of the Festival and being interviewed — all this kept me breathless and it’s a wonder I had any left to blow the concerts.
The interviews were particularly amusing. One for a newspaper and the other for radio, where they would ask questions of my composer and myself and we would answer. The usual routine, only of course — in German. How I did howl when I listened to a rebroadcast later. My German is from hunger. But it was fun. The big reception given after the opening concert of the Festival in one of the lovely Saals of the Konzerthaus (the Schubert Saal) was a beautiful affair and looked like something you read of about old Vienna.
My concert went very well and I certainly couldn’t have had a more critical audience. Among the people were Dr. Hans Sittner (President of the Staats Akademie für Musik and who commissioned the work originally), Professor Leopold Wlach (1st clarinet of the Wien Phil.); Professor Karl Öhlberger (1st Fag. of the Wien Phil.); several of the W’Ws from the Winer Symphoniker; your own Wein correspondent Friedrich Schonfeld (at whose house I spent a nice afternoon playing chamber music last year), and sev- eral friends I met in London — Dr. Harpner (head of the Anglo-Austrain Society in London) and another friend from the B.B.C., who came over for the same festival. And so it was — and a very nice “Was” at that. It too, was a bit on the fantastic side and some- times I really couldn’t believe it. But it was all true and wonderful. I returned to Holland several weeks ago and am now looking forward to the tulips, which they say is a breathtaking sight. In the tulip fields are rows and rows or gorgeous tulips of all colors. Spring has also belatedly arrived and now begins the outdoor- cafes — a delightful European pastime.
After Klemperer and the Beethoven Cycle, Kubelik comes for several concerts from June 15th to July 15th there is the Holland Festival. Then the season is over and I am hoping to catch some of the Casals Festival later on. After that it’s anyones guess. Who knows — least of all do I. ❖
[This account appeared in the May and June, 1951 editions of the Woodwind Magazine. Do any of the readers know what happened to Gloria Solloway fol- lowing this? Perhaps a knowledgeable reader can bring us up-to-date. ED.]