Mr. Otto Klemperer
Essex House
160 Central Park South
New York City

Dear Mr. Klemperer,

        I read in yesterday's Times that Herr Lange was conducting, so we were careful not to turn on the radio.   Only the prospect of hearing Mr. Gilman's dulcet voice induced me to turn it on after all. Heard a small part of the Handel and Ravel, and later a Brahms section of extraordinary beauty, which I enjoyed very much. The other day I also heard the Beethoven A-major and found it very fine. But we must talk about the introduction to the first movement the next time you're in Los Angeles. A while ago I made some notes on it, based on the idea that the tempo is all-breve-adagio, i.e. twice as rapid - for which I can offer thematic proof, incidentally. At the moment I can't find my note, but if necessary I'll rewrite it. I'm curious whether you too will have any second thoughts about this.

        I wanted to write you today about another matter as well, one which seems important enough to me to let some other tasks lie.

        Yesterday at Dr. Hoffmann's I heard a pianist who appears to be something really quite extraordinary. I had to overcome great resistance in order to go at all, for the description I'd heard from Dr. Hoffmann and from Maurice Zam had made me very skeptical. But I must say that I have never heard such a pianist before. No doubt you will already have heard his name: Ervin Nyregyhazy (sic.) -- he toured Europe as a prodigy at age 5, played in Germany, among other places, before the War as a young man (he is now 33), and concertized thereafter in America, apparently with great success. Hunecker (sic.), said to be the best American critic, called him "another Liszt." (And that appears really to be the case, if one can assume that Liszt was this good.). Then he seems to have gotten into some altercations, with Judson if I'm not mistaken, and has been blacklisted ever since. At present he appears to be living in near-poverty. Now let me describe the man to you. First, he does not play at all in the style you and I strive for. And just as I did not judge him on that basis, I imagine that when you hear him, you too will be compelled to ignore all matters of principle, and probably will end up doing just as I did. For your principles would not be the proper standard to apply. What he plays is expression in the older sense of the word, nothing else; but such power of expression I have never heard before. You will disagree with his tempis as much as I did. You will also note that he often seems to give primacy to sharp contrasts at the expense of form, the latter appearing to get lost. I say appearing to; for then, in its own way, his music surprisingly regains its form, makes sense, establishes its own boundaries. The sound he brings out of the piano is unheard of, or at least I have never heard anything like it . He himself seems not to know how he produces these novel and quite incredible sounds - although he appears to be a man of intelligence and not just some flaccid dreamer. And such fullness of tone, achieved without ever becoming rough, I have never before encountered. For me, and probably for you too, it's really too much fullness, but as a whole it displays incredible novelty and persuasiveness. And above all he's only [sc. 33 years] old, so he's still got several stages of development before him, from which one may expect great things, given his point of departure. And therefore I think he must be given the opportunity to participate again in concert life. I am convinced that his success will be great. And Zam and Crown, who are most enthusiastic and were in any case responsible for setting up my encounter with him, also refer to him as another Liszt. If it were up to me, I would engage him immediately. Crown and Zahm (sic.) tried to persuade me to let him play in my concert on Dec. 27, but I'm afraid I can't do that. For one thing, I've had impressed on me so often that this time I should play only my own works, which I take to mean that I shouldn't get involved in any extraneous matters. Then too, the time is too short for me to prepare an accompaniment, this being an area in which I possess too little experience as it is. And finally, it would make me too nervous. This time I planned to play only things which I have often conducted before - especially with just four rehearsals! But wouldn't you be able to find another spot for him? He would most like to play Tchaikovsky or Brahms.

        I would be gratified to know I had succeeded in portraying adequately to you my impressions of the man. I think once you get used to the fact that he has nothing in common with our conceptions of style, and if you imagine his unparalleled potential, and once you are acquainted with his astonishing technique (of which I have said nothing yet), then you will certainly do the right thing. Technique: it is amazing what he plays and how he plays it. One never senses that it is difficult, that it is technique - no, it is simply a power of the will, capable of soaring over all imaginable difficulties in the realization of an idea. - You see, I'm waxing almost poetic.

        How are you and your wife? I'm working very hard and always have a thousand things going at once. Since you last heard from me we've spent some worthwhile time in Mexicali regarding our quota number. As you correctly predicted, the whole matter has been happily resolved, thanks to the help of Mrs. Dieterle. It now looks quite probable that I'll go to UCLA after all (confidential, please); I've already received an inquiry. I hope it works out. There's more I'd like to tell you, but my classes will be starting soon and I must close.

                            Most cordial regards to you and yours,