The Lion of Poland: The Story of Paderewski — David Hume — John Shaqi
The Lion of Poland: The Story of Paderewski
David Hume · en
Not everyone would find it possible to live happily in a Pullman car.
But Paderewski had a happy combination of physical and mental gifts that
made this life seem quite pleasant. He slept without any difficulty,
putting worries aside and falling into a sound sleep as soon as he went
to bed. His bedtime, to be sure, was rather erratic on concert nights.
Whenever he played he worked himself up to such a frenzy of excitement
that it took him hours to “unwind.” But he had two unfailing methods of
relaxation—billiards and bridge. He was fiendishly expert at both.
Paderewski’s generosity—whether to whole audiences or to individuals—was
boundless. Many railroad companies ran special Paderewski excursion
trains from the country into the cities where he was playing. If one of
these trains was delayed by bad weather, Paderewski would simply wait
for its arrival or would add an extra hour of music at the end of the
recital for the benefit of disappointed late-comers.
[Illustration: _Hobos gathered around to listen._]
As for his generosity to individuals—it was the despair of poor
Goerlitz, who tried hard to set some limit to his employer’s
open-handedness in money matters! There was no point at all, Goerlitz
knew, in even trying to reason with him if the people asking his help
were Polish. In such cases, he was hopeless. But the secretary often
wished that he would not be quite so generous about matters that were
strictly business. Like fees! There was that incident in California, for
example....
A young engineering student named Herbert Hoover was working his way
through Stanford University by a variety of methods. First he organized
a laundry pick-up and delivery service. Then, with another student for a
partner, he opened a lecture and concert bureau. The amateur managers
had not done well with their last attraction—a speech by William
Jennings Bryan—and they hoped to recoup with their big spring
attraction, Paderewski. But the concert business is filled with pitfalls
for the unwary, as the young men were about to learn. Paderewski’s fee
was high for those days—$2,000. Therefore the price of the tickets was
high—higher than the residents of San Jose and environs were used to
paying. The managers had also failed to notice that the date selected
for their concert was in Holy Week, which cut down attendance still
further. Their Paderewski concert turned out to be an artistic
triumph—but a financial disaster. When the last word was in from the box
office, the poor impresarios found themselves somewhat short of their
expenses. It was a solemn moment.