About this volume (9)
The year that followed was 1926; delayed celebrations of Carl Nielsen's 60th birthday continued into the new year, and all the festivities may have been partly responsible for triggering yet another major heart attack in February. After that, he had to accept that for a large part of the year, and for pretty much the rest of his life, would have to be a convalescent working at reduced intensity. But it was actually Anne Marie who first fell ill at the turn of the year and had to be hospitalised for a kidney stone at the beginning of December. She did not allow this to stop her, however; for her, this year represents the last long battle with the committee overseeing the equestrian monument before a contract for the casting can finally be agreed, and the finished monument can be erected in the autumn of 1927. A story that has its own final chapter.
On 4 January, Carl Nielsen conducted his own works at The Philharmonic Society's ninth subscription concert in Oslo, including Symphony no. 4, The Inextinguishable [CNW 28], the Violin Concerto [CNW 41] with Peder Møller as soloist and the Aladdin Suite [CNW 17]. The concert met with considerable success and people expressed surprise that he had not performed more often in Oslo. There was clearly a certain tension between Danes and the Norwegians, perhaps exacerbated at the time because the Danish city name 'Christiania' had recently been replaced by the old Norwegian 'Oslo'. During his visit, Carl Nielsen saw his childhood friend, the composer Christian Sinding, and Carl Nielsen later wrote him a letter that Sinding published in Oslo and Socialdemokraten also published in Copenhagen, in which he said:
'I find it very childish of foreigners to protest about an issue that only concerns Norway and the Norwegians. It would not occur to a sensible person to comment when a man adopts a different name, and many accept names that are assigned to them for one reason or another.It is worth noting that, following a law passed in 1904, all Danes chose a permanent family surname for the first time instead of following the traditional patronymic. Purely musically – and I wonder if this has also unconsciously and involuntarily played a role – the name Oslo sounds much better, more Nordic and fresher than the rather contrived Christiania. In general one can say that place names derived from personal names always feel unnatural.' Socialdemokraten, 06.01.1926.
Both on the outbound journey and the return home, the route passed through Gothenburg. Emil Telmányi was there for a series of concerts that were to serve as a test for and of him before he could potentially be hired as conductor of the orchestra. The empathy between conductor and orchestra, however, was limited, as the orchestra's finances may have been as well, which Telmányi found it difficult to manage without. Perhaps also his father-in law's shadow in Gothenburg was too much of a presence. On the way home from Oslo, Carl Nielsen watched his son-in-law perform the Aladdin Suite, and 'the composer was met with lively applause.' [9:1] It was not just catchy tunes that Telmányi sought to make an impression with in Gothenburg; he presented the first performance of Carl Nielsen's Symphony no. 6 [CNW 30] in Sweden, and also the first performance since its premiere in Copenhagen. Perhaps not exactly a well-chosen exam piece for a job applicant! [9:31]
Soon after his return from Oslo, Carl Nielsen agreed to be interviewed one last time on the subject of the artist's pecuniary position in society, a subject which was sensitive to his publisher, and in doing so he certainly made no effort to smooth things over (Samtid, no. 113). He also had to quickly write an article in praise of the Norwegian composer Christian Sinding on his 70th birthday (Samtid, no. 114). Nielsen had known Sinding since they met in 1890 in Berlin [1:176] and had just visited and gone hiking with him during his visit to Oslo.
A delayed birthday celebration in Odense
In Odense, where Carl Nielsen's musical education had really begun with his experience as a military musician, his 60th birthday had not yet been celebrated. This finally happened with a concert at The Odense Music Society in the Industrial Palace on 18 January 1926. The Russian violinist Julius Chonovitsch, who in 1918 had established himself in the city as a music teacher, played Carl Nielsen's Violin Concerto, accompanied by his wife on piano; next, Poul Methling sang songs and excerpts from Saul and David [CNW 1], before the concert ended with Carl Nielsen himself conducting his Suite for strings [CNW 32], The orchestra of around 30 strings was made up of members of The Orchestral Society and Professor Chonovitsch's student string ensemble. One member of this group was the later well-known historian Jørgen Hæstrup, who played the cello, and who many years later reported on the dress rehearsal 'when Carl Nielsen broke off immediately after the suite's first four measures with the opening cello theme. With mild humour and not without emotion, he recalled here for our little orchestra how he as a 23-year-old – in 1888 – had made his debut as a conductor in Odense with this very work and with an ensemble like ours. At that time, he had gently asked the two cellists to play the introductory theme a little louder than the mezzo forte indicated in the score. He recounted how one of the cellists had flung his jacket aside with the remark: "Well, I guess we've got our work cut out!" The remark, then as now, had amused the conductor and orchestra and made everyone relax. We now followed his instruction, though without flinging off our jackets.' Jørgen Hæstrup: Musik i byen, Træk af musiklivet i Odense i begyndelsen af det 20. århundrede, Odensebogen 1992, p. 57, also Samtid, p. 825.
After the concert, there was the presentation of a laurel wreath, a fanfare and a tribute speech given by the music society's chair, Neergaard the pharmacist, after which Carl Nielsen, in his thanks, noted that he was especially pleased that his two first teachers, Emil Petersen of Nørre Lyndelse (Cf. MfB pp. 42, 50 and 100), and Councillor Carl Larsen, the leader of the music society's choir and orchestra until 1916, were both present in the hall. At the supper for the guest of honour afterwards, Christian M.K. Petersen, who in 1916 had published The History of the Odense Music Society's history, gave a speech; he, too, took as his starting point Carl Nielsen's first performance at the music society on 16 October 1888:
'I surely am not wrong when I say that in 1888 you were extremely grateful to your old teacher, Councillor Larsen, and considered it a great honour that you were allowed to conduct your own work in the music society. Today, the relationship is reversed. Now it is The Odense Music Society that offers you its heartfelt thanks and considers it an honour that you have wanted to participate in one of its concerts.
In 1888, the audience was reasonably friendly and protective in their attitude toward the young man whom they, a few years earlier, had known as one of the city's military bandsmen. Tonight you have been greeted with respect and enthusiasm because everyone knows that, not just in the North but throughout Europe, you are hailed as a brilliant composer, and because we ourselves feel that you are now one of the greatest maestros of Danish music.
You have not only paved the way for yourself, you have also led Danish music down new paths. You came forward when it was believed that Danish music had reached its culmination with Hartmann and Gade; but among a crowd that put on the discarded clothes of those two great composers, you appeared in your own costume, an elaborate contrapuntal costume that you had woven yourself.' The speech was published in Fyens Stiftstidendes chronicle, 29.01.1926.
A tour of the provinces
On the whole, the 60th birthday appears to have given rise to initiatives to introduce Carl Nielsen and his large-scale music – not just his folkelig songs – into new circles. At the end of January and beginning of February, he already embarked on a slightly larger tour of the provinces with The Copenhagen Philharmonic Orchestra [9:9]. The first three concerts took place in Nykøbing Falster, Ryslinge and Aabenraa; private accommodation was provided everywhere, and people were impressed that this was possible not least in a town as small as Ryslinge. Here, it was Thorvald Aagaard who had organised everything 'extremely meticulously in advance, and thanks to exceedingly great hospitality from the former principal Alfred Poulsen and the current principal Monrad and their wives, lodging was quickly arranged for us at the folk high school and the large farms nearby. On the school's premises, we all ate dinner together with the kapellmeister, the superintendent, the principals and their wives, as well as all of the students. Afterwards, we were invited by the former principal, Mr Poulsen, to his extremely stylish home where we spent a couple of hours at a very sumptuous coffee table. The concert took place in the school's gymnasium, which was packed with people and here, especially, Kapellmeister Carl Nielsen was honoured after the concert with cheers and the singing of his well-known songs.' (Dansk Musiker Tidende, 16. vol, no. 4, 16.02.1926, pp. 41-42). They also had great success the next day in Aabenraa.
A four-day break followed in Copenhagen where the orchestra was expanded to 48 men, rehearsals were held and Mozart's G minor Symphony was replaced by Carl Nielsen's Symphony no. 2, The Four Temperaments,[CNW 26] so that the rest of the concerts in Aarhus, Silkeborg and Odense consisted exclusively of music by Carl Nielsen. Aarhus was a letdown after the great experiences in the small cities. The concert was not even sold out [9:27]: 'If the people from Aarhus do not show up it may well be because Aarhus is already a cultural centre, which revels in all sorts of cultural pleasures on a daily basis and therefore with time can become rather saturated and spoilt,' one journalist maintained, but word of the success in Ryslinge had also reached Aarhus and he had to add, with some embarrassment: 'Not long ago, Carl Nielsen gave a concert at the Ryslinge Folk High School, that is, a typical village on Funen, and people streamed in from half of Funen.' Aarhus Stiftstidende, 04.02.1926.
On the other hand, the final concert in Fyns Forsamlingshus in Odense, which was arranged by The Danevirke Society, was sold out – so much so that the kapellmeister's family, who had travelled to get there, 'only found a place because the fire department gave permission for extra chairs to be added.' [9:97] The concert ended with resounding applause, the composer was wreathed in laurels, and afterwards there was a dinner at the Park Hotel with several speeches including by the city's (last royally elected) mayor Valdemar Bloch, a childhood friend of Carl Nielsen's (Aarhus Stiftstidende, 04.02.1926), and by Carl Nielsen, and the party continued and turned into improvised musical entertainment, in which the kapellmeister had to accompany the landlord of the hotel, who was a tenor [1:13].
It also appears that in the tour arrangements there was a stipulation that money be collected for musicians in need. A sick musician at the District General Hospital in Copenhagen complained later in a letter to Carl Nielsen that he had not received anything even though he had been promised to him. Carl Nielsen has to deny that on the tour there had been 'any sort of extravagance on the part of the musicians,' and declares that 'as soon as I get home, I will do everything I can to be of help to you, and will contribute personally as much of my earnings from the concerts as I can so that you'll be sure to get something.' [9:7]
The beginning and the end
Carl Nielsen has reached an age and a position where his origins – thoughts about how it all began – and how it will end naturally arise. On his way back to Copenhagen after the first half of the tour, after Aabenraa and not least after the stay in Ryslinge, which must have stirred up his emotions quite a bit, Carl Nielsen may have visited Nørre Lyndelse and Sortelung where the house in which he was born once stood. In any case, he notes these words in his diary on the way to Copenhagen:
'My birthplace draws me more and more like a long, sucking kiss. Does this mean I will ultimately return to and rest in Funen soil? Then it must be in the same place I was born: Sortelung, Frydenlund's field.
Thunder and lightning at night. (Memories)' [9:23]
After that, the following events make some impression.
On 6 February, the day after the concert in Odense, he travelled to Damgaard with Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen, Hans Børge, Margrete Rosenberg and Irmelin's mother-in-law, Frederikke Møller. There, the following night, 7 February, he had his next serious heart attack. In the diary, this is entered under 9 February, naturally with a few days' delay. In several subsequent letters, he maintains with certainty that the 7th is the correct date (Compare [9:34] [9:58] [9:92]). From this moment on, he is a heart patient until he dies in October of 1931 and, over the next few months, he himself comes to realise that he will never be truly healthy again.
From this point in his diary and letters, there are frequent comments in his diaries that point ahead to My Childhood, which will be published the following autumn. It is clear that it is Irmelin, to whom he dedicates the book, who is pushing to bring the book to fruition, but without a doubt the inspiration also comes from other sources. Thorvald Aagaard, a student and collaborator in the song field, wrote a lengthy account of Carl Nielsen and his music prior to his performances in Odense and Ryslinge, describing the composer's growing up on Funen as follows:
'Carl Nielsen's entire childhood and early youth are more than a little reminiscent of a fairy tale. A patchwork of myths is already forming about his first steps on the path of art.
All of that I want to leave aside here, though all those who knew a little about "Niels the Painter's Carl" at that time have contributed to some extent to these myths and may even be able to confirm some things that for so many others lie in a mysterious, foggy haze.
In any case, there were many people on the sidelines who followed the path of the young man from Funen with great interest and heard with joy about his first triumphs, ...' Dansk Musiker Tidende, 16. vol, no. 4, 15.02.1926, p. 42.
A local doctor prescribes morphine. Nielsen's son-in-law Eggert Møller, also a doctor, hurries to Damgaard after Margrete Rosenberg telegraphs him at The National Hospital [9:39]. Eggert Møller does not stay long, however, and takes his mother back to Copenhagen with him. On the 17th, Irmelin arrives to replace her mother who has to go to Copenhagen to take care of her own affairs, that is, the equestrian statue and the tribulations brought on by the committee and the bronze caster.
The composer is bedridden but writes his first letter already on 10 February to make sure that Rudolph Simonsen will cover the rehearsals for the next Music Society concert, but in reality the heart patient is forbidden to do anything or to feel anything.
Letters and newspapers that arrive at Damgaard are also a problem; what the sick man reads in them, not only about his wife's work but also about the death of well-known people, affects his condition. In January, Victor Bendix, who had meant so much to Nielsen in his youth, had passed away, and now, at the end of February, both Salomon Levysohn, a faithful fellow combatant, and the personally difficult Lange-Müller leave this world tragically [9:64]. He can read about these not only in the newspaper but also in a letter from Anne Marie; on the 18th, he could also read in Nationaltidende that Carl Nielsen is seriously ill with a heart condition. Irmelin writes to her mother and asks her to consider what she writes and tells her father [9:66], also about her own difficulties in Copenhagen, and what Anne Marie reports in the coming days about the monument and the committee is thus not the whole truth.
On 23 February, in Carl Nielsen's absence, Rudolph Simonsen had to conduct The Music Society's concert no. 700 [9:36], and it appears from Nielsen's wife's and daughter's letters to Damgaard over subsequent days that the sick composer was the topic of discussion among the concert goers: the musicians who took part in the tour of the provinces sent their greetings to the man via his wife; 'The queen was at the concert,' as Søs wrote, 'and wanted to send her best wishes to Father through Angul Hammerich and all the other grey-bearded and grey-haired men. I really think they've all missed Father a lot already.' And 'Maren thinks that the fact that "they", The Music Society, are now missing Father properly really serves them right.' [9:63] [9:64]
After a good two weeks in bed, the patient slowly begins to get up again but is very weak and feels pain at the least movement. On 7 March, he takes the steamship from Kolding back to Copenhagen for the first time; he wants so much to see Emil Telmányi before he leaves for a concert tour in Hungary. But emotional disturbance puts the heart at risk; the mere thought that the steamship might arrive too late in Copenhagen for him to meet Emil can trigger a painful attack so that he would have to begin all over again. It has dawned on him just how much good spirits mean for good health, and he is ashamed that he is not the master of his own moods. 'Yes, only now am I beginning to know myself,' he writes. 'It's sad because it's rather late in the day, but nevertheless a consolation in that it means I see the rest of you (all those dear to me) with greater understanding and, as it were, with greater humanity and a deeper knowledge. It is all hard, so hard! Lying around and thinking can bring on pain and anxiety – though in recent days things are going better – and I can get in a stew about so much and think that now this or that will go wrong; that's why I haven't dared send the key to the car and yet I would so much like to give you both the pleasure. That's something no one can understand, and least of all you two, of course, but I would rather die in 30 seconds then begin all over again.' [9:69]
The Spa
Ten days later, he travels together with Anne Marie to Bad Nauheim, near Frankfurt, a place where heart patients, also Danish ones, flocked during those years. Here, he takes the prescribed baths of different strengths, goes on walks and is on a diet. Eggert Møller has sent along his medical notes to the chief physician in Nauheim, Dr Arthur Weber, who married into Danish medical circles. Dr Weber also conducts an examination and makes his own diagnosis during Carl Nielsen's stay, which the patient brings home to his son-in-law in a sealed envelope. These diagnoses, which circulated between Arthur Weber and Eggert Møller, have been preserved and are included here as the closest we come to medical statements about Carl Nielsen's illness as well as about Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen's recurring bronchitis over the years [9:78] [9:79] [9:126] [9:562].
There are yet more events in their most intimate circle that could affect the composer's emotional life. His son-in-law Eggert Møller is offered a senior position for two years at The Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research in New York. Irmelin will go with him, and they are to leave Denmark on 22 April; it is naturally a major issue for the sick composer and father that he will not get to see his favourite daughter again until next summer. Irmelin considers coming to Nauheim to say goodbye but cannot manage it in time. In the end, Carl Nielsen's health improves enough so that he can leave Bad Nauheim early, and they are able to foregather at Frederiksholms Kanal a few days before Irmelin and Eggert's departure.
New life
Carl Nielsen has to return to Damgaard; Copenhagen is too dangerous a place for a celebrity who cannot say no. Even at Michaelsen's Villa Højbo in Tibberup there are too many possibilities for disruptions, and 'I think I'll find more peace at Damgaard,' he explains to Vera; 'for the thing is, I'm ashamed to say it, but I have to be completely cut off otherwise I cannot steer the ship, as it does not have a keel of lead or sheets on the sails, and so the slightest wind – especially favourable ones – mean water into the cockpit. Water in the cockpit! That could be a slogan: ‘he's got water in his cockpit’.' [9:119]
No sooner is he left alone at Damgaard with the eccentric old ladies than he informs Irmelin and Eggert, across the Atlantic, that in a few days he will begin a new composition for clarinet and orchestra [CNW 43] [9:142]. The Clarinet Concerto will not be completed until the next volume, but, though modest in scope, what he accomplishes in the next few months is by no means insignificant. On Sunday 9 May, he takes his usual three walks, one between breakfast and lunch, a second before cocoa and finally towards evening with Miss Thygesen, and he writes to Anne Marie in Copenhagen:
'The weather hasn’t been so good, but this morning I was up on the hill along the beach, the sun was shining beautifully on the water, and for a few minutes I felt so perfectly happy that I shall remember it for a long time. It was so lovely and everything was pure and magnificent from the hand of the Creator, and it was as if the soul of Nature had faith in me, and I once again in everything – as though we had made a pact of friendship for all eternity. What is all this about? And can a completely new state suddenly overcome someone without there being any reason or a prayer for it? But it is enriching, and it makes you want to live again for a while' [9:150]
On 8 May, the lecturer Regnar Knudsen from Aarhus Cathedral School writes to Carl Nielsen asking him to compose a melody to Morten Børup's old May song In vernalis temporis in a new translation by Marinus Børup [9:173]. The letter was sent to Copenhagen, so Carl Nielsen only heard about it at Damgaard a few days later. On 15 May, he composed his choral song 'Springtime – Springtime breaking through!' [CNW 353] [9:169]. The day before, on 14 May, Carl Nielsen responded to a query from the Aarhus State Library about where his choral song 'Jubilation, shouts of glee' [CNW 375] was first printed. The text for this song from 1906 was also In Vernalis Temporis, but here in an older translation by Frederik Moth [9:167]. So he had the older, simple, beautiful version in his mind and ear when he composed the new, even simpler, choral song bursting with spring against a backdrop of pain – what a glimpse into the composer's workshop!
In 1914, Carl Nielsen had edited – and in part, composed – New Melodies to the Latest Song Texts for Johan Borup's Danish Songbook [CNW Coll. 12]. Now, Borup's Songbook had come out in a new edition and it needed a supplement of additional melodies, for which Carl Nielsen declined the editing, referring instead to his student Adolf Riis-Magnussen. He did, however, promise both to compose some new melodies himself and to act as a kind of censor and advisor, through whom all the songs Riis-Magnussen obtained from other composers had to pass. Even though at this point in time, Carl Nielsen was inclined to give the song project lower priority than his larger works, given his physical condition, these little songs were now better suited to his physical state. He can just sort of potter about Damgaard's grounds and return home to his rooms with a more or less finished melody on his lips. Riis-Magnussen sends him the texts that he and Johan Borup particularly hope that the great composer will tackle one by one, and in this way he coaxes many more melodies out of Carl Nielsen than either party had dreamt of. In the finished volume, Carl Nielsen has 16 melodies to his name, of which 11 were newly written for the occasion. In the correspondence and diary entries, the creation of many of these songs can be traced from one day to the next, and not least the melody for Johannes Ewald's 'In shadows so bracing' [CNW 399], which Carl Nielsen highlights time and time again as something quite special. According to Nielsen's diary [9:148], that was composed the day before the nature experience described above – so that experience really was in answer to a prayer after all!
A dying society
The Music Society is in crisis but not only because its conductor is off sick. The society's finances are in tatters. Income has declined both from membership and from ticket sales, and in 1926 the state subsidy is also reduced. It is not an easy problem to solve and it is not enough for Carl Nielsen to lower his fee or to propose that programmes for the following season be restricted to the Vienna classical orchestra repertoire and only include works for choir or orchestra so as to avoid paying the double rate for the orchestra for the Sunday rehearsal, which is only scheduled then to accommodate those choir members who cannot attend during normal working hours on weekdays [9:200]. Carl Nielsen is dissatisfied with the state of affairs as they have always been, but would rather change things than abandon them entirely. He writes to Carl Johan Michaelsen:
'In the 11 years I've been conductor of The Music Society, I have hardly ever had any support whatsoever from the three men on the board ([Angul] Hammerich, Anton Svendsen and Attorney [Christian F.] Brorson), and have had to take care of everything, most of which lay outside of my artistic share in the work. In other words, I've wasted my time on extraneous things, for example: managing the finances, procuring increased state allowance (1916 Edvard Brandes), drumming up new members and often copying parts myself in order to save the society on expenses, and so on. But none of this would have mattered if only the board members had the will and ability to do something; but – as you say – they're too old. Now I want to have a meeting with the Council in the autumn, and then we'll see if we can get a new board next year – otherwise I won't go on. – ' [9:200]
Daughter and super ego
Those closest to Nielsen begin putting pressure on him to change his life. Not least Irmelin, who writes from New York that they want him, without too much fuss, to resign from all the little things that harm him – 'all the other big desires, like work that you enjoy, and the book (Fyns Tidende, 17.01.1926) – possibly – and so on, will take care of themselves as long as you're feeling good – ' [9:189], and she, who more than anyone else takes part in his creative work, is happy that he has new plans: 'It is so strange to think about what is now nothing - which takes up no space in the world, exists nowhere – will become a composition by the time I come home. Where does it come from? That's what it is to create; and it feels quite strange to think of not hearing a little of it during the process.' [9:189]
Eventually, she says it directly: 'It is once again so clear to me, so clear – you are not to be allowed to continue conducting – everything that you have within you is a hundred thousand times more valuable; there you are always moving forward, constantly creating something new and remarkable. As a conductor you cannot stay on top when, purely physically, you don't have energy to spare. Look at this squarely in the eyes; it's not so bad." [9:358]
In fact, her father only returned to The Music Society to conduct two more concerts before stepping down at the beginning of 1927 and thereafter only indulges himself in conducting his own works now and then.
Back and forth
As has often been the case, the sources for Carl Nielsen's life are privileged by the fact that the family members are scattered far and wide and must communicate with each other in letters that criss-cross the globe. Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen forwards her impressions of how Carl is doing at Damgaard from Copenhagen to New York. When his birthday on 9 June approaches, he wants to go Copenhagen but Anne Marie does what she can to ensure that he stays there in peace and instead comes to him. She also tries to manage Margrete Rosenberg since Carl can no longer manage himself: 'Once in a while he wants to take Margrete [Rosenberg] to task, but I have asked Margrete just to say yes, yes, and so forth, so I am sure it all be alright. {...} All in all, he walks and drifts about and his days are as is best for him.' [9:208]
On 10 June, the new Danish Broadcasting Corporation presents an entire Carl Nielsen Evening. On the Occasion of the Anniversary of the Composer's Birth, 9 June: songs, chamber and orchestral music with The Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Launy Grøndahl. The programme ends with five pieces from Aladdin [CNW 17]. Naturally, Miss Thygesen does not yet have a radio; as the landlady for the country's greatest composer, she cannot resist for long, but in 1926 everyone staying there has to go into town to listen to the radio. Carl Nielsen writes to Emil Telmányi in Italy: 'It was a real delight and it sounded good, but radio can never be a substitute for real music; all the vitamins have been taken out of the meat and what's more it tastes of that long journey.' [9:223]
Later in the month, Carl Nielsen nevertheless goes to Copenhagen, using Anne Marie's birthday on the 21st as the pretext. Two days later, he acts as spokesperson for a deputation on the occasion of Anton Svendsen's 80th birthday, and he manages to write something for a questionnaire in Politiken on the day's event. His sister Lovise from Chicago also arrives in Copenhagen. She is going to the Rebild Festival and will stay mostly with their brother Valdemar in West Jutland.
Anne Marie makes sure Carl returns to Damgaard again before the sick man is led astray in Copenhagen. On 28 June, she not only accompanies Carl to Damgaard in the car; since he is still a patient and really should not be starting the car with the hand crank, she drives the whole way from Roskilde to Odense even though she is less accustomed than he to being behind the wheel. From Damgaard, she continues on one of her trips to Belgium where she negotiates the casting of the equestrian monument despite the committee's wish that the casting should take place in Denmark.
Carl now has the car in Damgaard and can once again get around a bit; for example, he picks up Thomas Laub in Fredericia and at the same time meets Lovise at the station on the way to Rebild [9:264] [9:265]. Together with Hans Børge, he also visits Lovise at his brother's home in Bryndum and on the same occasion acts as godfather in church for Valdemar and his last wife's youngest child. A few days earlier, he and Laub had been to a public meeting in Hindsgavl, near Middelfart; at this event, Thorvald Aagaard was to speak about 'Music and Public Education', a subject that was on the minds of all three. It was noted that the three leaders sat in a row: Carl Nielsen, Thomas Laub and Thorvald Aagaard, perhaps for the last time, as Laub died on 4 February 1927 [9:477] Ernst Borup wrote to Carl Nielsen after the public meeting:
'You, Laub and Aagaard, more than anyone else, have shown us that the arts can be popular, yes, that perhaps the greatest art is that which is so simple and natural in expression that at one and the same time it delights both connoisseurs and the mass of common people. You have always insisted that your melodies serve and bear the text, and to shape them so that they could be used, that is, so that there was "something useful in doing it". That's why I felt the urge – now that the opportunity has presented itself – to thank you on behalf of all of singing Danish people. With your popular art, you have given us immeasurable treasures, and perhaps this side of your compositional activity hasn't been highlighted as strongly in the many speeches of gratitude you've heard over the past year. – But I can tell you that we very much appreciate this "useful" side of your and the others' activity.' [9:291]
This folkelig revival, which, following Carl Nielsen's death and for many years afterwards, many people considered his most important contribution, was only now late in his life becoming known and acknowledged! – and was perhaps also already in the process of being undermined by developments.
At the beginning of August, Carl Nielsen ventured again to Copenhagen, this time to meet Lovise and bid her farewell when she left Denmark on 13 August. Carl Nielsen now described his experience of his sister, four years his junior, who had emigrated during his last year at the music conservatory as follows: 'She is very sweet, and I think she is developing in every way.' When, months after her departure, he thanks her for the 'overwhelmingly beautiful gifts for us here at home,' she responds with a harangue that provides a full account of her financial situation and shows that life for siblings can turn out quite differently:
'You must not feel guilty about my sending a few small gifts once in a while. Frankly, it makes me happy to do it, and I can afford the pleasure or I wouldn't do it. Money comes to me ('Louise the house-painter's girl') easily. I shall confide in you that I earn over $5,000 a year in interest on my money, and that increases steadily; my capital grows larger and larger.' [9:464]
The radio transmission commission
Demands on the sick man seem now to come from every quarter. Rumoured to be in Copenhagen, he immediately receives a phone call from the Minister for Transport who asks him to join a commission that has to leave for Munich at short notice to judge the difference in quality between radio transmitters, specifically machine transmitters and tube transmitters. The issue is that one of The Danish Broadcasting Corporation's first challenges was to choose and acquire a new transmitting station, the one that came to be sited in Kalundborg, and that there were politics involved in the choice because the machine transmitter could be produced in Denmark while a tube transmitter had to be imported. Emil Holm, the chamber singer and Carl Nielsen's old friend and comrade-in-arms from the time when Holm was at the opera in Stuttgart, was Head of Operations and Programme Manager, was to lead the commission and he had requested 'that Carl Nielsen, who enjoys the reputation as the country's prime authority on music, be asked to be one participant and that the composer Poul Schierbeck would be chosen as the other.' In addition, an electrical technician from the State Telegraph Service participated as the person responsible for the installation of the listening equipment, and Holm also recommended that his wife, Katarina Holm, 'who was the most reliable listening help for me, joined us.' Emil Holm: Erindringer og Tidsbilleder, 2. del, Kbh. 1939, s. 78.
For three days, these people stayed in Prien on Lake Chiemsee in Bavaria, where they listened to Europe's best broadcast stations from a hotel room. The location was chosen because it was especially well placed for a comparison between transmissions in Vienna, Prague and Munich; the latter was equipped with a machine transmitter. The commission's members were in agreement that the tube transmitter from Prague was superior to all the other transmitters, and on 19 August the three voting members drew up a report in Munich, which recommended the acquisition of a tube transmitter for Denmark. Carl Nielsen writes a few days later from San Gimignano to Irmelin and Eggert Møller in New York:
'The whole thing has been very amusing, and I think we have done the State Broadcasting Corporation a great service. The deal is: there are strong efforts underway at home to get a machine transmitter (something new) instead of a tube transmitter since it could partly be in Danish hands. But I insist that we have the one that sounds the best, and Prague (the tube transmitter) was far superior to all of the others, which we have now recommended based on my judgement, and incidentally, unanimously agreed upon. There is a lot of commotion in the radio world, and at home everyone is tearing their hair out fighting over the two systems, but I am of the opinion that it's only right not to take "Danish work" into consideration.' [9:327] The passage is probably also tinged with a certain pride at having defied the constant demands for Danishness, which Anne Marie also struggles with in relation to the casting of the equestrian monument.
There was also time for excursions to Hohenaschingen [9:308] and to Lake Königssee [9:309] [9:310] [9:311], and since the others had travelled northward after completing the commission's work on 19 August, only Carl Nielsen and Poul Schierbeck tooled around Munich together the last evening and night. The next day, 20 August, they sent a postcard to Sylvia Schierbeck from the Pschorr Brewery's beer hall, a few hours before Schierbeck travelled to Nuremberg and Carl Nielsen took a sleeping car to Florence. Even though the wild life of the last few days had made his heart problems felt that morning, he sent a telegram to Søs and Emil Telmányi in San Gimignano informing them that he would arrive in Florence the next day at noon.
San Gimignano
Carl Nielsen probably made the decision to travel further southward only in Munich [9:311] and, in any case, Søs and Telmányi were surprised and had to hastily hire a car to get to Florence and pick him up. He brought only the most essential things, a pair of books and a toothbrush, and they had to provide him with new clothes for the warm climate right away. Contrary to expectations, the climate in San Gimignano agreed with him and his stay was extended; he found himself a spot with a piano in the little city and applied himself in earnest to composing the Flute Concerto [CNW 42], which was to have its premiere in Paris on 21 October at the Carl Nielsen Concert with the Paris Conservatory Orchestra that Carl Johan Michaelsen had arranged. On 4 September, he was able to finish the concerto's main movement, the first [9:341].
From the letters, we can see that the first of the planned wind concertos Carl Nielsen had in mind was the Clarinet Concerto [CNW 43]; it is mentioned the first time on 5 May 1926 [9:342] but the scheduling of the Paris concert pushes it aside in favour of the Flute Concerto which is intended for Holger Gilbert-Jespersen, who had extended his musical training several times in Paris and was associated with musical life in the city. So was the violinist Peder Møller, who after his arrival home from Paris had given the first performance of Carl Nielsen's Violin Concerto [CNW 41] and was now introduce Paris to it.
The life Carl Nielsen lived in Italy with his daughter and son-in-law was quite different from that at Damgaard; he seems almost to have recovered. While his larger works had previously been left to the last minute with the date for the first performance approaching, under heavy pressure and working in isolation around the clock, the Flute Concerto [CNW 42] was now created almost in a sort of casual holiday mood combined with excursions and familial togetherness. This perhaps corresponds to the work's core qualities but also to the limitations imposed by his illness on what he could demand of his body. The act of creation had become a dance on a knife's edge.
In San Gimignano, they had a weeklong visit from one of Emil Telmányi's acquaintances, the Hungarian composer Gisella Selden-Goth, who was a student of Béla Bartók and whose violin concerto Telmányi had premiered in Berlin in 1917. She had lost most of her family was wealthy, had a luxurious apartment in Florence and a large luxury car with a chauffeur, who, nonetheless, had not come along to San Gimignano. Instead, she and Telmányi took turns driving on the day trips they all took together, covering several hundred kilometres in a day.
On 29 August, Carl Nielsen, Søs and Emil moved to a boarding house in Florence. There was talk about driving to Verdi's home town of Busseto where Toscanini and the La Scala Opera were performing Falstaff for the 25th anniversary of Verdi's death. Since Mrs Selden-Goth had already filled her car with acquaintances for the trip, Carl Nielsen ended up contacting Carl Johan Michaelsen in Copenhagen and asking him to send money so they could buy a used Fiat car and drive themselves to Busseto. Before the deal was completed, Mrs Selden-Goth's chauffeur and Telmányi examined the car thoroughly to make sure they were not being taken for a ride.
The letters disagree about the date [9:340] [9:349], but they did drive to Busseto to see Falstaff in their own car and Carl Nielsen and Toscanini met during an interval and, since Toscanini did not speak German nor Carl Nielsen French, they exchanged a few sentences in Italian with Telmányi as interpreter. It was very warm in the theatre and, during the conversation, the maestro was naked to the waist and fanned himself with a large towel (Telmányi s. 176).
The large Fiat car, which Telmányi takes on and continues to drive into the 1930s, could now also be used for the enchanting prospect of driving home together over the Alps. At this point, considerable pressure was put on Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen to travel to Florence and join in the trip. There was some urgency to get home because of the work still to be done to complete the second movement of the Flute Concerto[CNW 42] and because Carl Nielsen would need to leave for Paris.
On 13 September, Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen finally arrives in Florence but, before they set off for home, Carl Nielsen gets sick; he is bedridden with stomach flu and a high fever for a couple of weeks starting on 23 September. They do not leave until 4 or 5 October, and even though they speed northward so fast that many times they almost run down cattle and chickens, they are home safe and sound before 11 October.
That day Carl Nielsen conducts again in Copenhagen for the first time since his heart attack at the beginning of February. The Danish Concert Society is celebrating its 25th anniversary with four concerts, and at the last of these he conducts the final number, excerpts from Aladdin, and in so doing, according to the newspaper, attracts the most attention: the anniversary concerts 'ended with a demonstrative tribute to – Carl Nielsen, who for the first time after his long illness stood once again with baton in hand to conduct his highly imaginative, fantastic Aladdin music.' København den 12.10.1926.
Paris once again
On the 16th February, the composer departs for Paris with Telmányi accompanying him to direct the rehearsals with the orchestra; his father-in-law must be spared, after all, even if he himself tries to pretend that he will get more out of it and prefers to experience it all as a listener [9:292] [9:301]. Since Peder Møller will be the soloist in the Violin Concerto, another reason might be that, if he did not come at all, some might think that Telmányi had been passed over again, as he was on his birthday in 1925 [8:282]. At all events, Carl Nielsen's role in Paris will only be to accompany Peder Møller in the Violin Concerto and to conduct the five pieces from Aladdin that end the concert, while Telmányi will take care of the prelude to the second act of Saul and David, the premiere of the Flute Concerto with Holger Gilbert-Jesperson as the soloist and the concert's main composition, the Symphony no. 5 [CNW 29] From Paris, Telmányi continues directly to Frankfurt and Dortmund where, in both cities, he will be the soloist in his father-in-law's Violin Concerto [9:255].
The famous conservatory orchestra was guarded at the first rehearsal but loosened up, and the concert was a great success, marked not only by the many invited celebrity guests but also by a French audience and many French and foreign musicians who were in Paris at the time. Albert Roussel, Maurice Ravel and Arthur Honegger were present (Cf. Samtid no. 117 og 119 [9:373]), and the last of these reviewed the concert and wrote a description of Carl Nielsen as a composer in Politiken on 26 October. Another factor may have been that there was a plan afoot for Honegger to appear in Copenhagen for the first performance of King David in Denmark at the beginning of the new year [9:451], but it was clear enough that here was a younger kindred spirit, who had appreciated Carl Nielsen's stature.
The Danish embassy arranged an evening party for the following day where the cream of Parisian musical life once again were present: Roussel, Ravel, Honegger. In her memoirs, Anne Marie Telmányi recounts an episode that was said to have taken place on this occasion. The well-known composers present were each invited to play a piece. Roussel and Ravel sat down at the piano and played their own music; Carl Nielsen held back, but then began to play a piece by Mozart, stopped, and 'turned around and said, with an expression I shall never forget, "Ah, yes, it's a wonderful piece, but right now I can't remember any more of it." He had turned inward, and was far away. [/] Mother was quite distraught, but Father didn't want to play his own things.' AMT p. 153.
This episode plays a particular role in the later Carl Nielsen literature, as Jørgen Jensen uses it in his book (Jørgen I. Jensen: Carl Nielsen, Danskeren, Kbh. 1991, s. 21-27) as the foundation of the side character syndrome, which plays such a large role in his understanding of the composer and with which he turns Carl Nielsen into a Dane par excellence. Quite apart from the fact that this episode may also be interpreted in other ways than Jensen's, it should be noted that this anecdote does not figure in sources other than the daughter's reminiscences, which with The Carl Nielsen Correspondence at hand needs to be corrected and refuted on many points. At the same time, we know that Carl Nielsen did, in fact, play his own piano music that very evening; in fact, the whole evening event began with a small concert performed by the Danish musicians present. Holger Gilbert-Jespersen played flute pieces by the Danish composer Kaj Senstius, who himself served as accompanist; Carl Nielsen performed his Humoresque-Bagatelles [CNW 83], and Peder Møller played virtuoso pieces accompanied by Emil Reesen. There is more about this evening in Berlingske Tidende:
'After the company had applauded this lovely, informal miniature concert, everyone made their way to the buffet for refreshments and, after spending a couple of pleasant hours together, went home.
Carl Nielsen is leaving Paris already tomorrow, well sated with tributes.' (Cf. Gustav Hetsch in Berlingske Tidende 23.10.1927)
So on this occasion, there could not have been another evening event during which the alleged side character event could have happened and whether it might have occurred at this one also seems doubtful.
By contrast, there is evidence that many in the North viewed the Paris event as Carl Nielsen's final breakthrough onto the European music scene, and there is no doubt that the subsequent concert events in Oslo and the two performances with Furtwängler in Frankfurt and Leipzig in 1927 mark the peak of his fame during his lifetime. The Swedish composer Moses Pergament's reaction is significant. After the Paris concert, he writes an article about Carl Nielsen [9:387] [9:411] and sends it to him. The article has not been preserved but may be identical to or a source for the chapter 'The Seal of Fame' (Moses Pergament: Vandring med fru Musica, Stockholm 1943, pp. 202-206), which says:
'Carl Nielsen is not just the Nordic region's only modern great master, but his output in its entirety also constitutes one of the few examples of steely consistency in his successive changes in tone language. Neither novelty nor a drive for originality has brought Denmark's greatest composer to the prominent place in European musical life which he has come to occupy through his triumph in Paris. Already in the 1890s, Carl Nielsen was a composer whose personal characteristics set him apart from the large number of more or less talented successors. From composition to composition, these characteristics emerged more and more strongly and by the same measure as his mastery over technical means of expression grew and contributed to the liberation of his personality. The modernity Nielsen represents has barely more than a few purely stylistic factors in common with all other modern music. Nielsen has remained himself, faithful to his original premises and his high artistic ethic. What such an example means to the rising generation of Nordic composers should not be difficult to appreciate. But almost even more important is his production for the Nordic, and certainly Swedish, audiences. With the qualities mentioned, it forms an extraordinary link between old and new. Because it is both new and old at the same time – like man, life and the entire universe.'
Carl Nielsen presumably returned home from Paris on Sunday 24 October. The same day, he appeared in Politiken in an interview about the radio commission conducted before he travelled to Paris (Samtid no. 118). Before he left one week later for Oslo, Berlingske Tidende published an interview with him about his success in Paris (Samtid, no. 119).
The Young Musicians' Society and Danish Musicians' Society had previously joined forces in an attempt to organise exchange concerts between French and Danish music. The Paris concerts of 1921 had triggered a serious contretemps in Danish musical life and Carl Nielsen had been among their sharpest critic (Cf. Vol. 7 The introduction). There is no doubt that after that old scandal Carl Nielsen's own Paris concert in 1926 served among other things as a sort of demonstration supported by enterprising and wealthy people with ambitions on behalf of Danish music life. There can also be little doubt that Carl Johan Michaelsen coordinated the event; how many others contributed is not known. Carl Nielsen says at the end of his interview:
'I would just like to have permission to articulate my immense gratitude to the people who made it possible for this concert tour to come into being and who also, I am sure, ran some risk in doing so. I have not been given access to the names of these individuals so I am now expressing my thanks by this means!" (Samtid, no. 119)
Oslo
The Danish week in Oslo from 4 to 11 November 1926 was not devoted solely to Carl Nielsen but to contemporary Danish music in general; naturally, this did not prevent Carl Nielsen from being the star attraction. This he had already been to some extent from the very beginning of the planning. The initiative came from the conductor of The Philharmonic Society, Georg Schnéevoigt, who wanted to arrange four Nordic music weeks within the concert season, one for each of the Nordic countries. For financial reasons he had trouble getting the orchestra's board to agree, and so he wrote to Carl Nielsen to try and persuade him to come to Oslo and conduct, not for a fee, but for the travel expenses and the award of a Norwegian order facilitated by the Danish ambassador. At the same time, it was Schnéevoigt's wish that Nielsen should help in planning the Danish programme and selecting the Danish soloists [9:122]. At the end of May, Schnéevoigt wrote to Nielsen, coming to the conclusion that Nielsen himself had already reached after the brouhaha in Copenhagen music society life in 1921:
'As far as the programme is concerned, I would ask you to make a suggestion. I don't want The Danish Music Society to have anything to do with this matter because then the programme will be put together according to personal tastes, which will be of no interest to the Norwegian audience. If, instead, you want to propose two orchestral programmes to me, and possibly a chamber music programme, then I will take responsibility for them, and your name won't have to be involved.' [9:184]
So it was Carl Nielsen who devised the programme for the Danish week in Oslo. Apart from Nielsen himself, eleven Danish composers were represented, including Peder Gram and Knudåge Riisager, who had directed the course of events in Paris back in 1921 [9:380] Schnéevoigt apologised publicly to those Danish composers who might most sharply be feeling they were overlooked, promising in the near future to 'bring forward Danish composers of value, whose works this time, under the circumstances, could unfortunately not be included. I would cite, for example, Louis Glass, August Enna and Rued Langgaard (in the case of the latter, by the way, the performance of Sphinx was prevented by shipping difficulties from Germany).' (Georg Schnéevoigt: Den danske musikuke. Aftenposten, Oslo, Morgen, 15.11.1926).
Carl Nielsen arrived in Oslo ill with a severe cold, accompanied once again by Emil Telmányi and had to entrust the first days' rehearsals to him while he went straight to bed in his room at the shipowner Otto Nyquist's house in Lysaker. Aftenposten's morning edition had already announced his arrival with the following announcement:
'The Philharmonic's famous guest for its "Danish week", the Danish composer Carl Nielsen, arrived by train this morning from Paris where he was celebrated with great honour as one of the most important composers of the day.' Aftenposten, Oslo, morning edition, 01.11.1926.
The evening edition followed him to his doorstep with a photograph of the celebrity between Telmányi and Schnéevoigt on the train platform – or rather, it followed him to his sickbed:
'... it was unfortunately a rather sick patient we met at Eastern station in the morning.'
"I was thinking of not coming at all," Carl Nielsen told us. "But now here I am – even though I have to now go straight to the Nyquists in Lysaker and lie down instead of going directly to the rehearsal in the auditorium. So my son-in-law Emil Telmányi, who has accompanied me here, will take the rehearsal for me today. And then I can take comfort in the fact that there are still several days left before Thursday. By the way, Telmányi also conducted my symphony at the Paris concert while I conducted the rest."' Aftenposten, Oslo, evening edition, 01.11.1926.
That same evening, alone in the Nyquists' large villa, he gets up, however, finds paper, pen and ink, and in an hour and a half writes the article on Danish music (Samtid, no. 120) that Aftenposten had asked for but which he had declined due to his state of health. In a letter Carl Nielsen himself writes about the attention the article arouses, and Georg Schnéevoigt also takes up his pen and, some days later, publishes his article: The mutual relationship between Norwegian and Danish music (Aftenposten, Oslo, morning edition, 08.11.1926).
Withdrawal
Following his success, also in Oslo, where, despite his health issues, he conducts his own music at the two orchestra concerts, Carl Nielsen returns home to face some serious decisions. He has finally realised that he must relieve himself of duties that particularly strain his heart: his role as conductor and his position at the Conservatory. On 23 November, he holds a meeting with the most important members of the board of the Conservatory, the same day that he conducts his penultimate Music Society concert. Anton Svendsen and A.P. Weis are in agreement that they want to maintain Carl Nielsen's links with the Conservatory, or rather to maintain his name, especially for the future when one day the aging Svendsen will no longer be there. Therefore, already now in 1926, an agreement is drawn up to the effect that Carl Nielsen shall take over as the chair of the Conservatory's board when Anton Svendsen retires. At the same time, they decide that this future change of chairmanship will be followed by a redefinition of the chair's role and responsibilities so that he will be relieved of daily administrative duties (Cf. Samtid, no. 183). This means that here already the foundation is laid for Carl Nielsen in the last year of his life – even sicker than he is at present – will be burdened with acting as the Music Conservatory's figurehead.
On 25 January of the following year, Carl Nielsen conducted his final Music Society concert. Telmányi conducted the premiere of the Flute Concerto[CNW 42] in Paris with an unfinished second movement, which had been provided, at the last moment, with a provisional ending. Holger Gilbert-Jespersen played the concerto again in Oslo with the composer as conductor, again with the provisional ending. It was not until the Music Society performance in Copenhagen, at Carl Nielsen's last concert as conductor of the society, that the concerto received its first performance in the form we know today.
Christian Christiansen was asked to step in as conductor for the rest of the season but this trial replacement did not meet with success, and even though Ebbe Hamerik, who took over as the new conductor for the society, tried to modernise the organisation and kept it going for a few seasons, he became the last. Carl Nielsen fulfilled his obligations for the next few months, but during the remaining barely five years of his life he conducted only on special occasions and then mostly only his own works.
Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen had been awarded Tagea Brandt's travel grant in March [9:84], but the whole year she was tied down with the equestrian statue and, not least, the negotiations with the committee and the bronze foundry. On 28 August, she finally made contact with the Rasmussen foundry about casting the monument, and when on 25 November she had also finished the base so much had fallen into place that she decided to travel alone to Egypt. In the letters, we can follow her journey her first letter from Cairo on 5 December [9:416], until on the way home she writes from Athens on 6 January 1927 [9:453] and presumably is back some time in the latter half of the month.
So Christmas was not celebrated together that year. Søs was studying in Paris but came home before Christmas with Telmányi, who was following Toscanini's performances in Milan in preparation for his own attempts as an opera conductor. They celebrate Christmas at Bodil Neergaard's home, Fuglsang. Carl stays at Damgaard and politely declines the invitations from Vera Michaelsen [9:435], and on one of the final days of the year that finally marked the composer's international breakthrough – if that is indeed what it was – he sends the following paean of praise about Damgaard to Bodil Neergaard at Fuglsang:
'Thank you so much for your friendly invitation. Unfortunately, I cannot cope with being either happy and cheerful nor the opposite, so I prefer to stay in the delightful gravelike peace of Damgaard where no joys are heard but also no sorrow either: just silence, the only thing I want for the time being, as I've been in a lot of pain lately. I would ask you not to speak about this with Søs and Emil or anyone else; I say it only to you so that you can understand me. Just being happy to hear from you and Emil today caused me some pain. When January is behind me, I'm freeing myself of The Music Society – still between us! – as conducting is the worst.' [9:441]
1927
Even though The Music Society's management had yet to be informed or it been made public, the decision had been made that Carl Nielsen would resign as The Music Society's conductor as soon as possible. In January he fulfilled old commitments regarding a concert in Gothenburg on the 19th [9:450], the concert on the 25th [9:114] [9:463], which was to be his last as The Music Society's conductor, and the radio broadcast concert on 14 January from the Odd Fellow Palace [9:477] (Cf. Samtid, no. 123).
This was the beginning of symphony concerts broadcast on the radio which for the next several decades became the mainstay of classical music life in Copenhagen.
At The Music Society's plenary meeting on 8 March 1927, people were informed that Carl Nielsen 'has to resign from his position as conductor due to his declining health', after which Christian Christiansen was engaged to conduct the season's final two concerts. Politiken publishes the public announcement about this as part of the advance notice of Christian Christiansen's debut concert as conductor:
'Carl Nielsen, who years ago took on the role as conductor of The Music Society after Neruda's death, has laid down his baton due to illness and gone to Germany to a spa. He has informed the board that he is resigning completely from the position as he no longer dares to devote his energies to this demanding work – ' Politiken, 27.03.1927.
At a spa with My Childhood
On 9 March, the day after The Music Society's plenary meeting, Carl Nielsen had already left accompanied by Frederikke Møller, who even had to carry Carl Nielsen's suitcase on and off the train. The first spa was in Lugano, after that in Menton, where the mistress of Damgaard, Charlotte Trap de Thygeson, and her 'chaperone' Margrete Rosenberg were already staying. Carl Nielsen does not feel at home among the spa guests, however; at the pension, 'all the rooms were occupied by Danish counts and barons and the like, and so, for the four days [Margrete is in Paris], I have my meals served in my room; I don't want to have to deal with all of those people even if they can be very nice. I just don't know them. – I wish you [Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen] were here; all four of us say that so often.' [9:513]
Later he returns with Miss Thygesen and Margrete to Lugano where he waits in vain for Anne Marie, who with her chronic cough could also use a change of air but has trouble tearing herself away from her work and her supervision of the equestrian monument's completion. Instead, a letter arrives from the United States written by the composer's son-in-law Eggert Møller earnestly asking him to go to Bad Nauheim again and to consult Dr Weber, which Carl Nielsen has tried to avoid. Now he does his duty, the upshot being that, comparing with the old examination results, Weber finds that his situation has improved. Nielsen's 'coronary artery disease' has 'shown no tendency to get worse; the heart muscle is fully capable of handling light (physical and mental) tasks [9:562]. It is just a matter of not subjecting body and mind to major demands!
Carl Nielsen isolates himself in a quiet boarding house and writes to Søs and Telmányi: 'But you are really so sweet to write and I can tell you I have been bored otherwise. The Webers were also away for the Easter holidays, so I haven't spoken a word in eight days. But I have to say, I am in fact not so bored after all. I work every day writing my reminiscences about my youth and childhood and there is a lot to tell as it turns out. It's a whole world! Sometimes I'm afraid it will bore readers silly but I keep at it anyway since it amuses me to see that world again and often completely pulls at my heartstrings – whew!' [9:572]
It is during these spa months, March and April 1927, that the main part of My Childhood is written. These reminiscences are the leitmotif running through 1927 – the work on it, its publication at the end of November, the stream of letters expressing gratitude and comments in the last month of the year. The idea must have been born shortly after his most recent heart attack at Damgaard on 7 February 1926; Irmelin mentions 'the book' in a letter from New York as one of the projects that 'would come into being of its own accord' once he learnt to 'step back from all the little things that harm him' and 'just relax.' [9:189] But putting it down on paper begins in earnest only on the spa trip in 1927, not least thanks to Frederikke Møller, who sometimes writes down what he dictates and whose handwriting is preserved in the manuscript and also in the fair copy of the manuscript. During the summer and autumn of 1927, both Irmelin and Margrete Rosenberg take part in its completion, stepping in and improving the wording and suggesting additions. In several cases, it is possible to follow their collaborative process in the correspondence.
Party without Nielsen
Throughout Carl Nielsen's career as a composer, he presented his music abroad at significant concerts, but the years 1926-27 mark the peak where he came closest to what could be called an international breakthrough; that, at least, was how it was perceived in the Scandinavian countries. The spread of Carl Nielsen's influence in his day and beyond is a subject unto itself, to which The Carl Nielsen Correspondence can probably contribute but not offer conclusions and, in any case, the discussion will always be unbalanced if it does not take as its starting point the extent to which contemporaneous composers were generally performed, and the nature of the concert and music life to which they sought access. The public's lack of understanding of contemporary art was not a phenomenon that only affected the Viennese School and its music; it involved a deeper cultural division, of which Carl Nielsen's songs demonstrate an artist's conscious awareness and that only seems to have been overcome by the different media-borne culture of unconsciousness in sound, image and word of our time.
On 7 February 1927, Siegmund von Hausegger, who had in the past performed Nielsen's music in both Berlin and Hamburg, succeeded in performing The Inextinguishable [CNW 28] at The Concert Society of Munich [9:448] [9:473] [9:480] Unfortunately, Nielsen was not well enough to travel to Munich to attend the concert, but two days later Hausegger writes him an extraordinarily knowledgeable and personal declaration of love for the music, adding: 'And the audience? Those who mattered were, for the most part, extremely captivated, though some were initially surprised.' [9:473] Nielsen must have replied something to the effect that the few who understand are more important than the masses, and Hausegger concurred: 'I too fully share your experience that in one's later years only the applause of a few counts for anything. But this is precisely what your work here has achieved, namely with the most understanding and serious of your listeners. I wish there were an opportunity to repeat your symphony soon, because this would be absolutely necessary in order to understand it fully. It is my sincere pleasure that my response to your symphony means something to you. Seldom has a new work moved me so deeply and resonated in me so strongly afterwards.' [9:485]
In Denmark, however, leading lights of music life continue to fight with each other as soon as a little Danish music is to be performed abroad. In 1927, a Nordic Music Festival was held in Stockholm from 1 to 8 May. Carl Nielsen was not a member of the committee that chose the Danish works to be included but commented at the request of a pair of the committee's members, the chairman of the Danish Musicians' Society, Hakon Børresen, and Anton Svendsen. This develops into a fight and once again it is Carl Nielsen who gives his candid opinion and is marginalised.
It was decided that Carl Nielsen, Denmark's greatest composer, should be represented by his Symphony no. 4, The Inextinguishable, and he had agreed to conduct it himself – before he resigned his post as conductor of The Music Society. The Symphony is placed as the last item on the programme of the Danish orchestral concert, originally with the composer as conductor, but the situation changes now that Nielsen is ill again. Even though Nielsen himself assures that he is up to conducting one of his own works since he has conducted it so many times before, they are forced to take a safer option: Georg Høeberg.
Høeberg has declared himself ready but stipulates that he wants to direct the whole concert; he will not just stand by in reserve. There are also songs with orchestra by Poul Schierbeck on the programme – but with the composer as conductor; consequently, these are replaced by songs by Adolf Riis-Magnussen and Emilius Bangert. According to Nielsen, the explanation is that since Schierbeck could conduct his compositions himself and therefore stood in the way of Høeberg, Riis-Magnussen and Bangert were preferable to include because they did not conduct themselves.
There is another problem, namely that these songs only fill out an interlude between two large symphonies, since the concert is to begin with Louis Glass' Sinfonia Svastika, 'an impossible programme for a Swedish audience that can only handle at most one symphony, and then only if they are promised a "singer" with an "astonishing voice".' Nielsen concludes that '"the music festival" will – as far as Danish music is concerned – consist of sending a single man to perform an ill-conceived programme.' [9:519] Carl Nielsen even offers not to participate in order to make room for more of the younger composers, but they wanted him there, not to conduct, but to serve as the figurehead for the Danish section by his presence in Stockholm; and the only result of his criticism is letters from both Hakon Børresen and Anton Svendsen who, without addressing on his comments, assure him that 'in the entire committee there is not one who does not acknowledge your great importance to Danish music.'" [9:555]
Danish and German
Carl Nielsen did not go to the music festival in Stockholm, and it was not first and foremost illness that held him back. As luck would have it, an 'alternative' option came up even before the concert in Stockholm had taken place. On 17 April, Anne Marie wrote to him in Bad Nauheim that there had been an enquiry as to whether he would participate in a music festival in Kiel. The Verein der Musikfreunde in Kiel, in collaboration with The Society of 1916 of which the writer Karl Larsen was chair, planned to hold a concert of Danish music in Kiel on 16 May [9:570]. The orchestra's conductor Fritz Stein himself comes to Bad Nauheim, and he and Carl Nielsen 'think through the whole thing with the help of a bottle of Mosel wine' [9:575], after which Carl Nielsen immediately writes to Poul Schierbeck; without telling him exactly what it is about, he asks him to have the songs that were excluded in Stockholm ready for another project no later than 5 May: 'The matter is between us two for the time being; this time no one is going to spoil it for us.' [9:576]
Nor do they, but the Kiel concert does takes on a slightly different flavour before it comes to fruition; in the border country between Danish and German, things easily get political, and when Stein comes back to Kiel, a large circle of prominent personalities have consulted about the matter and are of the opinion that there must be Nordic music on the programme and that the concert must be pitched as a 'Nordic Concert'. If they were to announce a Danish concert, Stein writes to Nielsen, 'we would very likely have to reckon on getting hostile criticism from the state of Schleswig-Holstein, and we want to avoid such trouble and have our concert serve spiritual and cultural cooperation between Denmark and Schleswig-Holstein [9:583]. For that reason Stein also asks that the Danish songs by Schierbeck and Riis-Magnussen will not be sung in Danish as intended, but that they be translated into German as quickly as possible or replaced by other songs that already have German lyrics, and that, if she cannot sing in German, the singer Sylvia Schierbeck should be replaced by another singer.
By way of introduction, two works by the Norwegian composer Gerhard Schjelderup are added to the programme, all the songs are translated into German, Sylvia sings them in German, Carl Nielsen conducts his music and the whole concert is a 'resounding success', as Frederikke Møller, who has come along as one of Carl Nielsen's ladies, writes to her son and daughter-in-law in New York [9:599]. The Danish Consul General in Hamburg writes about the concert in his report to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs: 'It was a Danish proclamation that pulled deeply at the heartstrings of a people who have a lot in common with us, and in a region where petty day-to-day issues divide us. It was a breakthrough for Danish culture, a foundation that should not be overestimated, nor underestimated, but recognised objectively as a useful basis for further actions.'
Foreign Minister Moltesen forwarded that report to Carl Nielsen with 'a heartfelt thank you for the victory you won for Denmark with the Nordic concert in Kiel on Monday.' [9:600] Carl Nielsen not only demonstrated that he was still well enough to conduct at least his own music, but also that he is an ambassador for Danish music and culture. As was Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen and perhaps no less, as can be read from her account of the party after the concert [9:606].
Furtwängler
To return to Carl in Bad Nauheim. Anne Marie managed to arrive at the last minute to accompany her husband home via Kassel and Hamburg with museum visits in both places. Presumably they were back in Copenhagen on 2 or 3 May. On the 4th, the same evening as Høeberg conducted The Inextinguishable [CNW 28] in Stockholm, they went to a concert with The Berlin Philharmonic and Wilhelm Furtwängler, and after the concert they both attended the party for Furtwängler at Restaurant Nimb [9:584] The next day, Nielsen and Furtwängler met again to discuss Nielsen's Symphony no. 5 [CNW 29], which Furtwängler was to conduct at the ISCM Festival for new music in Frankfurt on 1 July [9:637] [9:638] and again later in the year at the Leipzig Gewandhaus [9:735] [9:736].
After the last concert, a journalist from Nationaltidende accompanied Furtwängler to the train, and, upon asking Furtwängler whether he had had any closer contact with the leading lights of Danish musical life, he answered 'on the running board of the sleeping car': 'Yes, I was particularly pleased to meet Carl Nielsen. He is a composer of considerable stature and we think very highly of him in Germany too. I am going to perform one of his latest symphonies soon and had therefore particular interest in speaking with him just now. It is always good when composer and conductor know each other . . . as people.' Nationaltidende, 06.05.1927.
Furtwängler's performances of the Symphony no. 5 had, in a way, deep roots. Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen had got to know the Furtwängler family, not least Furtwängler's father, the Professor of Archaeology Adolf Furtwängler from Munich, when both she and he worked at the Acropolis in Athens in 1904-05. It appears that she had spoken with Furtwängler's mother and his tutor, Ludwig Curtius, about her musically gifted son and pupil and promised to send him some of her husband's compositions [2:416] [2:489]. This actually happened in 1906 [3:43,] and so the young man, and subsequently world-famous conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler already possessed music by Carl Nielsen as a 20-year-old.
It was again Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen who approached Furtwängler when he first appeared in Copenhagen on 4 December 1922 and got a commitment from him: 'he wants to perform one of your symphonies in Leipzig next year.' [7:362] The performance was originally scheduled for 6 January 1927 in Leipzig but shortly before that date, Furtwängler had to announce that, due to a lack of rehearsal time caused by the orchestra's theatre administration, he had to postpone the concert until the autumn. He had initially planned to perform the Aladdin Suite [CNW 17] but now believes: 'the symphony would make a better introduction for the German audience that would give them an immediate picture of your true personality.' [9:447]
When on 1 July 1927 Furtwängler performed Carl Nielsen's Symphony no. 5 at the ISCM Festival in Frankfurt, he was therefore not a conductor who was more or less coerced into playing a symphony by a composer unknown to him, or a conductor who had seen the score for the first time at the initial rehearsal. He had been ready to play the symphony in Leipzig in January but at the last minute, for reasons of institutional logistics, had felt obliged to postpone the performance until the following season.
It is important to bear this in mind when in considering accounts of Furtwängler's performance in Frankfurt. Here opinion is divided, often more along lines of music politics than of common-or-garden taste, and not everything that has been said can be attributed purely to subjective response.
A number of anecdotes are associated with the event. Upon returning home, Carl Nielsen tells Nationaltidende (That is to say, after returning from the concert in Gewandhaus on 27.10.1927! Carl Nielsen himself complicates things when he mixes up Frankfurt and Leipzig in his statements – or perhaps it was the journalist who did so. Samtid, no. 127, 132 and 133) that during the rehearsals Bartók, the soloist in his own first piano concerto whose premiere Furtwängler also conducted, 'had incessantly interrupted Furtwängler' ... 'Every eighth measure, he rose from the piano and whispered something to Furtwängler who, with angelic patience, said yes and took it again, but eventually quite obviously tired of this.' (Samtid, no. 132) But even though there may have been something at the beginning of Nielsen's symphony [CNW 29] that the composer 'had imagined differently and did not want quite as he had done it', he did not want to stop Furtwängler or to try to change it. To the question about whether Furtwängler interpreted the symphony as he himself would have, Carl Nielsen responded:
'Better ... far better. I can tell you that the conductor-composer can naturally – if he can conduct an orchestra at all – bring out exactly what he has in mind and exactly what lies in his heart – but the foreign conductor – when he is a great and significant artist, as in this case – can add even more. If an artistic work is worth something, it must also be able to take being pinched and squeezed a little here and there, or lifted there – it must be spacious and flexible enough to allow the reproducing artist space to unfold and do his thing ... otherwise a reproduction of an artistic work would not be art at all but only a mechanical reproduction which anyone could make.' Samtid, no. 132
When The International Society for Contemporary Music (ISCM) received its official written history in 1982 (Anton Haefeli: Die Internationale Gesellschaft für Neue Musik (IGNM), Ihre Geschichte von 1922 bis zur Gegenwart, Zürich 1982), Nielsen had been given Bartók's position: Nielsen's 'Fifth symphony was completely out of place at this festival, and was not understood at all in this context. Only Furtwängler's interpretation was praised, which "saved" the "rather poor" piece – although Nielsen in the rehearsals did not agree at all with Furtwängler's interpretation, especially his tempi, and had protested. Furtwängler did not even notice him ...' Haefeli, pp. 152-153.
Anton Haefeli's source is Sten Broman, whom he had interviewed in Lund in September 1971 and who cites from memory reviews from 1927, which are also included in Haefeli's text without reference to the newspaper source. However, it can easily be established that Carl Nielsen was only one among many Danes who attended both Furtwängler's rehearsals and the concert performance, and had Nielsen attributed his controversy with Furtwängler to Bartók, he would have compromised himself in front of more than a few friends and acquaintances. Moreover, in a letter from Frankfurt he expresses the greatest respect for Bartók [9:637].
In his memoirs (1978), Emil Telmányi suggests that Carl Nielsen was privately more dissatisfied with Furtwängler's performance than Nielsen's public statements let on, and this is probably best understood as a student's zealous stewardship of the master's legacy (Telmányi, p. 105). As late as 1996, without citing his source, Jan Maegaard even claims to know for certain that 'Furtwängler did not like the music.' Jan Maegaard: "ISCM og Danmark," Dansk Musik Tidsskrift, 1996-97, no. 1, pp. 14-16.
On the other hand, in the same year, Michael Fjeldsøe is on to something when he posits that because the symphony was performed at a festival for contemporary music, there is 'a duality in the reception depending on whether the symphony was judged in relation to the new music's aesthetic norm, or whether it was judged as a new symphony in relation to the general bourgeois music audience's frame of reference.' (Michael Fjeldsøe: Carl Nielsens 5. symfoni, Dens tilblivelse og reception i 1920erne, Dansk Årbog for Musikforskning, no. 24, 1996, p. 65) We approach here the schism in music of the last century that Carl Nielsen's efforts were aimed at healing, and that was both a spur to him and an obstacle to his popularity. The new music's aesthetic was hardly as uniform in 1927 as it became a few decades later, and not everyone in the audience in Frankfurt arrived with an awareness of that aesthetic: on the contrary, the ISCM Festival that year was part of the broader Frankfurt event called Summer of Music, which also contained an exhibition entitled Music in the Life of Nations! – And if Nielsen's (and Bartók's) music took the public by storm, it was undoubtedly opportune for the new music people to give the 'credit' to Furtwängler rather than to the music.
On the other hand, in his statements about the performances in both Frankfurt and Leipzig later in the year, Carl Nielsen more attention to the reaction of the public than of the press: 'in this mighty audience could be found that deep devotion, that joy in music that is so characteristic of the Germans.' (Samtid, no. 133) And there is no need to quote the composer himself to give an impression of the impact of Furtwängler's performances; a younger composer, Finn Høffding, wrote:
'The most significant success at the festival probably fell to Carl Nielsen. {...} When the first movement faded away with that marvellous clarinet passage, the quite peculiar breathlessness that can only be felt in art's most sacred hours descended on the hall, and when the second movement with its chaotic whirlwind ended, the applause was more spontaneous than has ever been heard down there before. Furtwängler, who conducted the symphony, did not really get the primitive power in the first Allegro right but, on the other hand, he gave the other movements such a lovely, otherworldly performance that one might wish it could be granted to other Danes to hear their own art performed like this.' Finn Høffding: Den internationale Musikfest i Frankfurt am Main, Dansk Musik-Tidsskrift, vol. 2, no. 10, August 1029.
Let us finish with the words of a German reviewer, who is all the more expressive of the spirit of the times when, in his defence of Nielsen and Furtwängler, he feels he must in his phrasing f cover himself against the unspeakable aesthetic of new music :
'Carl Nielsen is a master whose artistry has not only attained the heights in a very personal sense, but who is also capable of filling out the great symphonic form with ideas full of strong inner tension – a rarity today. He stands completely in the musical tradition of the previous generation, to which given his age he also belongs, but this tradition in him is still a living one, it is for him a present in which he moves freely and surely. He has ideas which may no longer appear independent from the standpoint of a new spirit, but which are thoroughly personal expressions of his uniqueness. That is why his work appears genuine and deeply lived; it is not derivative, but even original in a certain sense if not "new" in the modern sense. The Adagio in particular may be among the best that the 62-year-old Nielsen has created. He was lucky that his work was introduced to the public by Wilhelm Furtwängler. That was one of the strongest impressions I have ever received from our German master conductor; he performed the work with a devoted enthusiasm that earned him and the composer thunderous applause.' Deutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, Berlin, 04.07.1927.
Monteux*
There was another great conductor who fell for Carl Nielsen that year: the French Pierre Monteux, who had been responsible for the scandalous premiere of Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring in Paris in 1913. On 10 October 1927, he conducted in Copenhagen and met Carl Nielsen, and Monteux and his wife were not least taken with Søs, who just then had around 90 pictures on exhibition in Copenhagen. Carl Nielsen writes to Irmelin in the United States:
'Yesterday I made the acquaintance of the famous French conductor [Pierre] Monteux who had a concert here. We became very good friends with him and his wife, and she fell completely in love with Søs, and she and her husband went with her to her exhibition. They were nice people and we get to have more to do with each other! (More on that later when we see each other)' [9:477]
The result was that Monteux, who had probably also heard about Nielsen's Parisian success, put Nielsen on the programme of two concerts in the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam: on 12 December, Nielsen's Violin Concerto with Emil Telmányi as soloist, and on 15 December, the Symphony no. 5. Carl Nielsen, Emil Telmányi, Søs, Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen and Frederikke Møller were in attendance in Amsterdam. Monteux's performances did not play a role later compared to Furtwängler's, nor did Carl Nielsen himself leave any comments; what we know comes from a letter Søs wrote to Irmelin afterwards [9:804] and from Telmányi's memoirs. Telmányi, pp. 105-106.
The problem was not that Monteux did not play the symphony [CNW 29] as the composer wished in all respects, but that the audience did not understand the symphony; here was no deep devotion as in Frankfurt or Leipzig. Søs says – and we can probably consider her letter to be a reflection of her father's opinion – that 'the problem lay not with Monteux if people did not understand the symphony.' She also believes that when Telmányi had success with the violin concerto [CNW 41], it was not so much because of the music but due to 'the violinistic aspect of it.' The symphony took up the first half of the concert, and in the printed programme Carl Nielsen was the star attraction with a full-page portrait, an article about him by Julius Röntgen and a short introduction to the symphony. After the intermission, Mischa Elman was the soloist in Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, after which the concert closed with Wagner's Overture to Tannhäuser.
Then there was a reception, and 'they hailed Elman as the great genius of the evening – it was tremendously polite besides being boundlessly banal and ordinary emotionally!! but afterwards we laughed and amused ourselves talking about the people on the way home,' as Søs writes [9:804]. Mischa Elman otherwise commented on Nielsen's Violin Concerto: 'Ugh, what an insanely difficult work it is; I don't think I could ever learn it.' Telmányi 'looked at him, a violinist in full command of the instrument, with amazement. It was probably the music that was foreign to him.' Telmányi, p. 106.
In the autumn of 1927, not only do the events in this volume culminate, but in lots of ways it was the two artists' lives that culminated, and they found at least a certain release after many years of work and struggles. No sooner had Carl Nielsen returned home from the victory at the Gewandhaus than Anne Marie's equestrian monument was transported from the bronze foundry in Nørrebro to the riding arena at Slotsholmen and set up, ready for the unveiling ceremony on 15 November. Ten days later, Carl Nielsen unveiled his childhood reminiscences, My Childhood; both husband and wife appeared quite often in the country's newspapers during that period.
The young conductor Jascha Horenstein, who in Frankfurt had conducted the first rehearsal of Nielsen's Symphony no. 5 with the orchestra before Furtwängler showed up, had also programmed it himself in Königsberg on 11 November, and informed Carl Nielsen of this in a letter which unfortunately has not been preserved [9:753]. At the end of the month, the famous Kolisch Quartet from Vienna performed in Copenhagen and Carl Nielsen provided the advance publicity in Politiken (Cf. Samtid, no. 140). They had perhaps drawn the conclusion that Nielsen's symphony in Frankfurt was out of place in a festival for new music. In any case, they separated 'wheat from chaff', as they played Nielsen's Quartet, op. 44 [CNW 58], together with Beethoven and Schubert – hardly to Nielsen's displeasure – at a public concert in the Odd Fellow Palace, while in the New Music Society they played Schoenberg, Szymanowski and Milhaud.
In the midst of it all, the Faroese turned up! For the very first time, Faroese folk dancers were in Copenhagen on an official visit, and they planned to perform their dances at The Royal Theatre. The visit was supposed to take place already in January but was cancelled at the last minute by the Minister of Health due to an influenza epidemic in Copenhagen which also resulted in a ban on dancing in public places. The theatre had commissioned an overture for the occasion from Carl Nielsen, and on 4 January he began to compose it with an eye to finishing in time for the first Faroese party at The Royal Theatre on 16 January, but he stopped working on it when the deadline was no longer pressing because the Minister of Health cancelled the Faroese party on 10 January.
Now they finally arrived, and Carl Nielsen had to pick up the thread and finish it in time for parties on the evenings of 27 and 28 November. Carl Nielsen completed his Overture An Imaginary Journey to the Faroe Islands [CNW 39] on 6 November, but the event nearly failed yet again because the Faroe ship Tjaldur, for the first time in its history, was stuck in a hurricane out on the Atlantic Ocean. The Faroese, however, managed to come ashore, and Carl Nielsen got to present his Overture in The Royal Theatre's orchestra pit where, many years before, he had had less memorable experiences. At another event for the Faroese at Copenhagen's City Hall on 30 November, he got to conduct the new Overture again, this time with The Copenhagen Philharmonic Orchestra.
The Overture is probably the closest Carl Nielsen comes to the programme music, which in the past he had earnestly spoken out against, and he even published the programme himself in two newspaper articles." (Cf. Samtid, no. 135 and 136) He wrote to Telmányi: 'You mustn't think I attach any importance whatsoever to this matter: it's an occasional composition and nothing more than a piece of craftsmanship from my hand.' [9:761] In the newspaper, he hoped simply that the piece would hold up for one or two hearings (Samtid no. 136.) It is, however, an unusually captivating piece in which he has applied not a little of his contrapuntal skill, and, despite the borrowed melodies it contains, no one can be in doubt about the creator. Carl Nielsen wrote his 'academic festival overture' not for a doctoral promotion, but for a remote, indigenous people who came to the city with their folk dances.
At the final party for the Faroese in the house of Politiken, Nielsen gave a speech, wearing all of his orders and medals: 'My decorations do not mean nearly as much as your beautiful silver buttons and old jewellery,' he said, and he thanked them for maintaining contact with 'the original, the human', and ended by saying: 'If we lose the connection to the plain and simple, we will all perish!' (Politiken, 02.12.1927.) He had actually begun to question whether he could use his medals and orders, of which he had accumulated more and more, to accomplish something meaningful [9:789].
Over on the edge of Jutland, at Bavnhøjgaard, Christiane and Johannes' house not far from the peaceful, secluded Damgaard, the now 32-year-old Hans Børge went about keeping up with the world's development in his own way. In his Christmas letter to big sister Irmelin and brother-in-law Eggert in New York, he tells them that they have just started to move dirt with dump trucks to the Little Belt bridge: 'There are many years of work ahead, and it is quite interesting for me to watch, you see.' [9:802]
Several different efforts unfolded over time, in different areas, to draw Denmark together, but neither the composer nor Miss Thygesen got to cross that bridge.