I’ve been reading Howard Pollack’s absorbing biography, “Samuel Barber: His Life and Legacy,” in advance of its release on Tuesday by University of Illinois Press.
Barber is one of our great American composers. You’ll probably recognize his “Adagio for Strings,” at the very least, from its use in so many movies (“Platoon,” “The Elephant Man,” “Lorenzo’s Oil,” “Amélie”) and on occasions of national mourning (such as the deaths of presidents and the terrorist attacks of 9-11).
I must say, Pollack is doing a fabulous job of shedding light on the composer’s multifaceted character. Barber’s manner could be reserved – some would say aloof – and his patrician demeanor and assumed mid-Atlantic accent, rooted in an upper-middle-class upbringing in West Chester, Pennsylvania, and his close identification with his New England forebears, may now seem like affectations from a bygone world.
But he also had a sense of humor, offering the occasional sardonic, or even barbed observation. Once in while, he even teetered over into the downright zany. From the passage below, you’ll see he was a very capable practical joker. I thought it only appropriate to share it with you for this April Fool’s Day.
Barber had moreover what his cousin Katharine Homer Fryer called, in reference to the Beatty side of the family, a “Beatty sense of humor,” meaning, explained Barbara Heyman, “a love of the ridiculous.” As an example, one might cite Barber’s remark to [Nathan] Broder, apropos for his fondness for soups, “I would like to be buried with a sprinkling of croutons over my coffin.” Barber showed a proclivity for childish stunts and mischievous pranks, whether in his student years interrupting a tedious concert by noisily spilling coins on a dare from [Gian Carlo] Menotti, or in later years pretending to topple down a flight of stairs spewing manuscript pages to the amusement of his sister and her children. Planning a visit home while at the American Academy in Rome in the mid-1930s, he hatched a particularly elaborate ruse, telling his parents that he was sending them a portrait of himself and arranging for Menotti, then in New York, to bring a life-size frame to West Chester. “So I brought this empty frame to West Chester,” recalled Menotti, “and I said [to Barber’s parents], ‘Now you all get out of the room because I want to unveil it.’ So then Sam sneaked into the house and he sat inside the frame and then I unveiled the thing and there was Sam who said ‘Hello.’ Poor Mrs. Barber almost fainted!”
“Samuel Barber: His Life & Legacy” is scheduled for release on April 4. I haven’t finished it yet, but if you think it’s the kind of thing that might interest you, it’s a great read. I’ll have a more complete report by the end of the book. In the meantime, you’ll find more about it here:
