CHAPTER 6
“THEY WILL LISTEN”
All summer long the lovely town of Morges had its share of the Swiss tourist business, but no date in the year meant more to the hotel keepers, bakers, florists and other local businessmen than July 31. It was the happiest town holiday of the year. July 31 is the feast of the great St. Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Society of Jesus. It was, therefore, Ignace Paderewski’s feast day. Paderewski had a great devotion to his noble patron, and St. Ignatius’ day was the occasion on which friends from all over the world gathered at Riond-Bosson to celebrate with him.
As the years passed, the Paderewski feast day parties became famous as the most brilliant gatherings in Europe, for among the guests were the world’s most talented and witty people. Great care was expended on these festive occasions not only on the refreshments, which were superb, but on the entertainment, which was unique!
The celebration of July 31, 1914, was as lovingly and carefully planned as all the others, but a cloud of apprehension hung over the day. One month had passed since the assassination of the Austrian Archduke, Franz Ferdinand. This act of violence had triggered the chain of events that would lead to the catastrophe of world war. An uneasy peace was still in effect, but no one could guess how long it would last. After Mass, the day, usually devoted exclusively to fun, was punctuated by closed-door conferences with military and diplomatic leaders.
But when the time came for the evening’s festivities, everyone tried to relax and forget the troubles of the world, if only for a few hours. The dinner was one of Antonina’s and the chef’s greatest triumphs. The decorations—this year everything was ultra-Chinese—were a delight. The dancing was especially amusing because of the newly-imported American ragtime. The “ragging” music was provided by eight hands on two pianos. The hands belonged to Olga Samaroff, Josef Hofman, Ernest Schelling, and Rudolf Ganz. As for the entertainment! Schelling, who was Paderewski’s favorite pupil, was its mastermind. At midnight he summoned the guests to the drawing room, where chairs had been set up for the performance. Tonight, the guests were told, they were in for an unprecedented treat—a world premiere! They were to hear the first performance of “a symphony by Schoenberg!” Arnold Schoenberg was the leading composer of a type of new music that was understood by very few people, and Paderewski was known to turn a particularly deaf ear in its direction. Hence the delighted laughter and applause when the audience heard that a “Schoenberg Symphony” had mysteriously turned up in manuscript at Riond-Bosson. Paderewski, for whom the entertainment was always a jealously guarded surprise, threw up his hands in mock horror.
Riond-Bosson
To perform the new “symphony,” Schelling and his fellow members of the “orchestra” had raided the kitchen and the rest of the estate for every noise-making instrument they could lay hands on: pots and pans, cups and saucers, eggbeaters and typewriters, hoses and horseshoes. With Schelling’s frenzied conducting to urge them on, the musicians turned in a truly superb performance. At the climax of the work, pots, pans, dishes, garden tools, everything went hurtling into a large rain barrel, with a crash that could probably be heard across Lake Geneva. Overcome by the beauty of it all, the exhausted conductor himself plunged head first into the barrel.
As the last echo of golden sound died away, as the audience gathered its collective breath to unleash a chorus of “bravo’s,” the telephone rang.