The nonmusical inheritance from my father had been, with wise counsel of trusted friends, invested in War Bonds, a move more patriotic than prudent. In 1918 with the war lost, we had nothing except the modest salary of my aunt, a clerk in an insurance company, who shared what she made with us. Later on the impoverished Austrian Republic granted a small monthly payment to my mother, which terminated when she left for the United States.
Soon after the Armistice in November 1918 we got the first shipment of food parcels from the United States. We queued on a very cold afternoon for some hours in front of a beautiful baroque palais, eventually receiving a splendid basket of food, with A large tin of corned beef the outstanding item. Meat had been more than scarce and that same evening the four of us did away with the contents of the tin can. It was such an overdose after a long dearth that none of us ever could face corned beef again.
— Erich Leinsdorf, Cadenza: A Musical Life
Eight years ago today (and for those keeping track: yes, prior to my stroke) I had the great pleasure of attending the second performance, down Florida way, of my Opus 116, Plotting (y is the new x) for violin and harpsichord. A most thoroughly gratifying occasion. Today, eight years since, I am delighted to have completed my Opus 212: Harmonious Insomnia for bass clarinet and bassoon, composed for my friends Todd Brunel and Greta Rosen.
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