Berlin

In Berlin , we rented a pleasant little apartment in Friedenau . At that time, I did not yet know that Prof. Max Bruch lived quite nearby — something that was later to become a delightful source of inspiration.

In March 1906 came my first major concert with the Berlin Philharmonic . The program consisted of the rarely played D‑minor Concerto by Max Bruch , an entirely unknown Ballade by Dvořák , whose orchestral accompaniment I had instrumented myself, and the B‑minor Concerto by Saint‑Saëns . Playing with orchestral accompaniment gave me immense joy, and I felt no fear. The beautiful hall of the Singakademie also contributed greatly to my enthusiasm. The reviews were uniformly very favorable, which actually surprised me, for the Berlin critics were considered the strictest.

This led to further concerts, and also to new pupils. I derived much satisfaction from teaching, and it turned out that I had a particular gift for it. Word spread, and soon I received a considerable number of foreign students — even two from Chile — and I earned 20 marks per lesson, which was a great deal at the time. Thus my stay in Berlin was very pleasant; I enjoyed life there, the many excellent concerts, and my numerous good friends, many of whom were distinguished personalities.

Before long I came to know the greatly admired Professor Max Bruch , was invited to his “ Sunday afternoons ,” and had the great honor of playing for him his D‑minor Concerto and the Scottish Fantasy , apparently to his satisfaction.

At this time I also met Paul Juon , the well‑known composer of the trio “Gösta Berling” , a witty and profound man. He took an interest in my compositions — they were not many at the time — and gave me many valuable suggestions, which I quietly stored away.

Meanwhile, I worked diligently to refine my violin playing, for it still seemed to me far from good enough. The more I learned, the more urgent my wish became to acquire a truly fine instrument. I wrote an imploring letter to the dreaded guardian, asking whether it might be possible to release a sum from my father’s estate for this purpose — and behold, it succeeded. There was an opportunity to acquire a genuine Stradivarius violin for 18,000 marks , the so‑called Soames violin from the Soames estate — an Amatisé , but small, which suited my not‑large hand. I received the money, seized the chance, and became the happy owner of a Stradivarius.

From Berlin , I undertook concert tours throughout the important cities of Germany : Munich, Leipzig, Dresden, Nuremberg, Cologne, Hamburg, Bremen , and others. I especially enjoyed performing in Nuremberg , where I came to know and appreciate the conductor Wilhelm Bruch . I also performed in London and Dublin .

During this time, my colleague from Prague, Willy Lang , appeared in Berlin. He encouraged me to compose a violin concerto for him — which I gladly did. It came to me quickly, and was finished in time for his concert with the Philharmonic . He had chosen a young Dutch conductor who was, of course, far more interested in the Brahms Violin Concerto , which was also on the program. The rehearsals were stormy at first; I was not willing to tolerate everything, but in the end we reached an agreement and everyone was satisfied. I did not want my own name printed on the program, for at that time prejudice against compositions by women was still much stronger than today. So I hid behind the name Frank Dornell . This brought me very good reviews, which I surely would not have received otherwise. Later I abandoned the pseudonym, because it seemed cowardly to me to hide behind men.

Thus passed three very pleasant and happy years in Berlin . Then one day a letter arrived from Oskar Nedbal in Vienna , inviting me to perform as soloist in a Sunday‑morning concert of the Tonkünstler Orchestra , of which he was conductor. I gladly accepted, chose the D‑minor Concerto by Max Bruch , and sent the orchestral material to Vienna as requested. When I arrived two weeks later — the day before the rehearsal — the music had not appeared. Great excitement ensued. Nedbal finally had the excellent idea to inquire at the customs office — and indeed, the scores were lying there peacefully. A servant was sent immediately, but by then it was too late for the scheduled rehearsal; it had to take place on Sunday morning before the concert, behind the iron curtain. I have always found that the more difficulties one has to overcome, the higher the performance rises — and so I gave my best. I found the audience exceptionally warm and responsive, received unending applause, and had to play three encores. Nedbal was very pleased and proud. I can still hear him saying: “Didn’t I tell you?”

I cannot recall having read the reviews in the newspapers, probably because I returned to Berlin immediately afterward. But after some time, I received favourable offers from Viennese concert agencies. Above all, I received something that truly made me happy and proud — the most beautiful praise I ever received: a letter from Professor Grädener to Professor Rauch , both at the Music Academy in Vienna . Professor Rauch forwarded the letter to Max Bruch, who kindly sent it on to me. It reads:

Letter (Translated in Full)

Vienna, 19 January 1909

Honored Colleague,

It is my pleasure to inform you that last Sunday, at the concert of the Vienna Tonkünstler Orchestra under the direction of Oskar Nedbal, I heard the magnificent Violin Concerto in D minor by Max Bruch performed in such extraordinarily beautiful musical fashion and with such profound inner feeling that I was deeply moved, and thoroughly captivated by the great interpretation. The effect was so powerful that I still feel it today, and I continue to live in the splendid composition, which was made so perfectly comprehensible to me this time. Fräulein Mary Dickenson (that is the name of the excellent, highly gifted interpreter) thus appears as a truly remarkable phenomenon, capable of making one’s very heart tremble.

I merely wished to tell you this, knowing how you always rejoice in such things and pursue them with warm artistic interest. With kind regards, I remain

Yours respectfully, H. Grädener

Upon reading this, it seemed to me that all my work and struggle for the violin had not been in vain. It never occurred to me, however — despite the tempting offers from the Viennese agencies — to leave Berlin . Life there was far too good, and I felt happy and content.

But then my mother spoke up. She had been living with my sister Violet, who was married to a German officer, in Kassel , but she was unhappy there and expressed the wish to live with me — though only if I moved permanently to Vienna . After some hesitation, I agreed, mainly for her sake. Thus my three beautiful years in Berlin came to an end. The furniture was packed and sent on to Vienna. There we found a lovely apartment on what was then Valeriestraße , now Böcklingstraße , at the edge of the Prater , and my mother was very happy to be in Vienna with me and my dear friend Marie Stika.