Typhoid fever shortly after arrival, then the practice regime under Ševčík among a hundred students from all over the world. Her first published composition, an Irish love song. The debut with the Czech Philharmonic under Oskar Nedbal launches her career as a soloist.
The contrast between the cities of London and Prague appeared to me very striking. London seemed somewhat sober, very busy, very extensive; Prague , romantic, with its beautiful old buildings and streets and the Hradschin .
I was lodged in a large girls’ boarding house (by order of the guardian!), where I felt quite comfortable. This was fortunate, for after scarcely two weeks I contracted typhus fever and was laid up for weeks. I ought to have been taken to a hospital, but the kind and friendly directress kept me in a completely isolated room and nursed me herself. This laid the foundation for my lifelong friendship with Marie Stikova , who later was to come entirely into our lives and share them.
When I was healthy again, the serious part of my studies began. Prof. Ševčík received me very kindly, and the drill commenced. I can call it nothing else, for we were all given the most difficult pieces — such as the Hungarian Variations by Ernst and much Paganini — so that it was a matter of practicing, practicing, and practicing again. Some students worked up to 14 hours a day; my fellow student Marjorie Hayward , who lived in the same house, began already at 4 o'clock in the morning. Many went into the woods to practice there in consideration for the neighbors. I never managed more than six hours; practicing further seemed to me deadening to the spirit and dangerous — the danger of becoming a purely mechanical player. Thus I also had time to attend the many excellent concerts, especially at the National Opera , where one could hear operas by Dvořák and Smetana that were seldom performed elsewhere.
At that time, Prof. Ševčík had about a hundred pupils from all countries. Among them was Henrietta Wieniawski , daughter of the great violinist and composer, and her fiancé, an American millionaire who later perished with his beautiful Stradivarius in the sinking of the Titanic .
In my second year in Prague , Prof. Ševčík gave a concert with his hundred students, in which we all played together, among other things, Bach’s G‑minor Fugue for solo violin. This, naturally, was a sensation! Also Paganini’s Moto perpetuo , but only those who could play it from memory were allowed to participate, and that left only twenty.
At that time, there was a music club in Prague , where Ševčík’s students met in the evenings to play music. One day the violinist Willy Lang came to us — he had learned that I sometimes composed — and asked me to write a small piece for violin that he could play the next evening in the club. I delivered the requested piece: an Irish Love Song , and it received great acclaim. Later this little piece was to be of much use to me — as an encore. That evening, by chance, the director of the publishing house Mojmír Urbánek, Prague , was present, and as the piece delighted him greatly, he put it straight into his pocket and sent me a contract. Never again in later years did anything proceed so quickly! Since I was completely ignorant in such matters, I gained no material benefit from it; and when the publishing house later closed, I lost all rights and could no longer obtain copies. Only a single copy has remained with me.
After two years, I had completed my studies with Prof. Ševčík, had achieved the desired security of the left hand, and received a fine testimonial from him. Through my friend and patron Oskar Nedbal , I received an invitation from the Česká Filharmonie to appear as a soloist in one of their concerts. For this debut I chose Lalo’s Symphonie Espagnole , a piece particularly suited to me.
At the rehearsal, I noticed that the orchestra did not greet me with much enthusiasm, and my friend Marie Stika, who was nearby, heard a musician say quietly: “Another little mouse…” But the attitude of the musicians changed visibly as I delivered the energetic first movement with the necessary force and performed the whole piece not merely as a technical feat. The concert brought me a resounding success, including a particularly fine review from the well‑known critic Chwala . It was the beginning of my career as a “violin virtuoso!”
From “Mein Musikleben” by Mary Dickenson-Auner, 3 October 1963. The text follows the manuscript; the chapter numbering is that of the original.