Beethoven in the Bunker – Musicians Under Nazism, Honored, Exiled, Murdered

Our website has been redesigned, submit your own events Did you spot an error? Email us!

Beethoven in the Bunker – Musicians Under Nazism, Revered, Banned, Gassed

The subtitle of this book makes it immediately clear that the Nazi relationship with classical music was, to say the least, problematic. Hitler, for example, was a great Beethoven devotee, mad about Wagner and Bruckner. Not surprising, really—they were true Aryans, and in Wagner's case, he even had a positive track record of antisemitism.

But what to make of the gramophone records of music by Jews Offenbach and Mendelssohn that were found in the Führer's bunker after the war? Recordings by the disgraced Nazi cellist Bronislaw Huberman, Beethoven specialist and piano virtuoso Arthur Schnabel. How did music by these Jewish Untermenschen end up in Hitler's record collection? The answer is simple. If those Untermenschen could make good music, it didn't matter to him. But of course those records were kept under lock and key, because as Führer he had to remain credible.

In a colorful collection of nineteen short portraits of composers and musicians, former radio man and music journalist Fred Brouwers manages to sketch a compelling picture of the arbitrary treatment artists faced during the Third Reich and the circumstances under which they were forced to live and sometimes die. Those circumstances didn't always bring out the best in people.

Some heroes come tumbling down from their pedestals. Stravinsky's shocking antisemitism, the brutal opportunism of the vain Herbert von Karajan who would become the founder of post-war German music industry, the weathervanes Franz Lehár and Richard Strauss, the childishly naïve Mengelberg who fell from grace in the first days of war and never recovered, the rabid Jew-hater Elly Ney who would escape punishment—to name just a few of the survivors. Not to forget the tyrannical hothead Arturo Toscanini, who despite all his good deeds comes across as an insufferable man.

Not everyone, however, was in a position to save their skin. A big name wasn't always enough to stay out of the Nazis' clutches unless your name was Furtwängler. This fact yields several harrowing stories, with low points including the moving account of 'hit machine' Fritz Lohner-Beda, who didn't survive the hell of Auschwitz and whose murderer was acquitted in 1968 for lack of evidence. Or the horrific fate of the 'little Caruso' Joseph Schmidt in supposedly hospitable Switzerland. He would not survive.

Much of what Brouwers describes was of course already known, but through his gripping style and his sharp characterization of famous and lesser-known musicians, he manages to captivate the reader from start to finish. Moreover, he is excellently researched, remains consistently nuanced, and avoids judgment despite his deep involvement with the subject. The facts speak for themselves. 'Wrongdoing' comes in many forms, as becomes clear.

This leaves you wanting more! Hopefully Brouwers has enough material for a second volume! What was the story again with Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Walter Gieseking, and so many others?

This book is a must for any historically interested classical music lover who should be prepared for the fact that after reading it, your record collection will never look the same again.