Editor Rita Barnea shares, “After seeing the movie “Maestro” which I highly recommend all to see, I thought about how the accordion might be related to Leonard Bernstein. I remembered that Dr. William Schimmel has been the accordionist for the New York Philharmonic for decades. Maybe he played under the direction of Leonard Bernstein?

I called Bill and we had an amazing conversation about his relationship with Leonard Bernstein. I asked if he would be willing to share his experiences performing on accordion with the New York Philharmonic directed by Bernstein. Bill immediately and enthusiastically agreed. Here are his special memories. Thank you, Bill!”

“Moments with Leonard Bernstein” by Dr. William Schimmel

In 1977, I was called in to play with The New York Philharmonic. It wasn’t my first time, And I have played with them for the past 50 years with many conductors. but, this one was with Leonard Bernstein. It was the premiere of a new work by Lukas Foss, “The American Cantata”. It was scored for Chorus and Orchestra (with an accordion part).

I had just finished giving the first reading of Foss’s “Curriculum Vitae” (a new AAA commission) at an AAA meeting in which Foss attended on last minute notice). Bernstein was loved by the orchestra and they were happy about his return for this concert. Before the rehearsal, the members of the orchestra gathered around him calling him “Lenny”.

Foss managed to get me through the crowd of musicians and introduced me to him by saying that I premiered his new accordion piece. Bernstein replied, “Yes, and I heard that it was a great success” How did he know? Or did Foss tell him ahead of time. I didn’t ask. Leonard then said, “They have been trying to get me to write a piece for the accordion. I don’t know anything about the instrument. There has been this lady chasing after me for quite a while. She had bright red hair”. Of course that was none other than Elsie Bennett. I can still see her today trying to get past the doorman to see Bernstein. She apparently did, but no piece was written.

Then, something strange happened during the break. I heard “Hey Schimmel” and it sounded like Bernstein’s voice. I turned around quickly and he was busy looking at the score. Was it him, or was I imagining it, a sort of “wishful thinking”? The accordion part was small. But it wasn’t the point. It was me playing my accordion with The New York Philharmonic in a work by Lukas Foss conducted by Leonard Bernstein.

Even though the Foss family fled from Europe when he was a child, he started off as an American composer, like Aaron Copland and others in that genre. And then it seemed that overnight he switched to The Avant Garde and created a whole culture of “Creative Associates” at the University of Buffalo. The quick switchover was an over simplification, sort of an easy target for critics.

The American Cantata juggled between his older “American” style and the “Avant Garde”. It had Fanfares coming from the Chorus, holding up large cue cards with section numbers. The conductor could choose at random, any section or to combine any section. There was a poem by Walt Whitman and a section about The New York Stock Exchange. It was The Westminster Choir College, a school with religious roots. At one point in the rehearsal, the Maestro yelled out, “I can’t hear a F——— thing”. There was a dead silence. The choir blushed and the Maestro realized that he was talking to Seminary students. Another long silent moment and he continued the rehearsal as if nothing happened. At the end of the piece, there was a recording of a soldier dying on the battlefield writing to his parents with the help of another Soldier. He ends the letter with “Your beloved son, John”. At the dress rehearsal, as the piece progresses to “your beloved son”, the maestro blurts out, “Irving”, Of course everyone laughed hysterically – except Foss.

The orchestra knew his every move and followed him perfectly. If it was your first experience with him, one might find him hard to follow. It was for me. I stopped looking and realized that I had to step into his energy and go along for a good ride. It had nothing to do with following a beat.

At the final performance, he pointed to all the choir Fanfare sections in a totally haphazard way, perversely enjoying every minute. Total ‘controlled’ chaos. Glassy eyes. You know what I mean. He was shorter than I expected. He became large – and larger than life at the podium. At each rehearsal, I looked to see how he would make his entrance to the podium to start the rehearsal. Somehow I would always get distracted and as I turned around, he was already there – every time.

The movie, “Maestro”, is a good movie. Of course, it’s just a movie but it does show a complex human being, his amiable personality to everyone that he encountered. In my own short experience, I suspected that this may actually be a way of distancing himself. Calling him “Lenny” may seem close but it can also have a distancing quality about it as well.

I will tell a few more stories – and they are all true:

In the late 1960’s into the early 70’s I was a student at the Juilliard School in composition (Read my bio on billschimmel.com ). On my free days, I and a songwriting partner would pound the pavement trying to peddle songs at various publishing companies. We worked as staff writers with Paul Leka at Mercury records. Paul wrote “Na Na Hey Hey, Kiss Him Goodbye “and “Green Tambourine”. We met Leiber and Stoler and we ‘almost’ did a project with them.

But, BMI sent us to meet John McClure who was interested in producing Rock and Roll. He was Bernstein’s producer, as well as Stravinsky’s. He liked our stuff and produced a demo. This was to be on Columbia Records. Nothing happened with it.

At the end of “Maestro” as the credits are rolling, they play a segment of his “Chichester Psalms”. That plaintive voice is John McClure’s (then) wife. She sang background vocals on our demo.

And that’s my story!

For further information: accordionbill@gmail.com