Manuscripts/Mixed Material Letter from Aaron Copland to Nadia Boulanger, June 1, 1928.
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June 1 
Dear Nadia, -
I should have written you these past many months, but there were so many things to write about I became paralyzed at the mere thought of transcribing them all to paper. And it always seems useless to write you unless I can write you everything. Now that I am 2,000 miles miles away from New York and our musical season is over all these things that seemed so important to write you then do not seem so any longer. Anyway you must have heard many of them from Roy when he came back and recently from Roger, perhaps also from Israel to whom I write regularly knowing how much he needs my moral support.
When I look back at the winter it seems to me that the only real thing accomplished was the fact that I have finished my slow movement for string quartet. I have just made a copy for you because I am most anxious to know what you think of it. Please show it to Roy and to Israel. (I dedicated it to Roy because it was his enthusiasm for the opening phrase which gave me the incentive to finish it.) The rest of the winter was spent in giving lectures and giving concerts. I should so much have liked to discuss both of these activities of mine with you, particularly the concerts. They went off surprisingly well -- particularly from the standpoint of the press. The difficulty will always be to find good music by Americans. But we want also to play the young Europeans who are just beginning to be known in Europe like Conrad Beck or Lopatnikoff. Thats where you can help us (not to mention the Americans!) Please ask Beck to send us one or two of his recent chamber music works so we can introduce him to N.Y. next season. Also if you know of anyone else who is writing really worth while things, do let me know. We expect to give three concerts next season
I am spending two months here in this old Spanish town of Santa Fé. I have a room and a piano and am hard at work thus making the summer six weeks longer than usual. There will be an interruption of two weeks in July when I play my Concerto at the Hollywood Bowl under Coates. (I don't look forward with much pleasure to this because the time for rehearsal -- these being summer concerts -- is necessarily too short to hope for a good performance) In August and September I will be back at the MacDowell Colony in Peterboro where conditions are ideal for work. I wish very much to turn out a large piece for orchestra this summer -- and it is on this that I am working principally. Secondly, I should like to do a Trio -- piano, violin, cello -- for our concerts. As I have the thematic material already it shouldn't be impossible. It becomes increasingly difficult to work during the winters in New York. I have stopped answering the telephone and see as few people as possible -- but still it is difficult. But as long as I must give lectures to make money and as long as I feel that the concerts can become important in our musical life I don't see very well what can be done.
I was very much relieved by what you said about Israel's work in your letter of last January. I hope he has continued to improve. Your letter induced Frederick Jacobi to help again with financial aid so that Israel has enough money until the end of October. Just now I don?t see who I can turn to for more money then, but I suppose someone will occur to me. Hasn't Israel met anyone at your house who might be induced to help him -- even if only for a few months? Since I shall probably be in Paris next Spring I should certainly like to have him stay at least until the fall of '29.
It seems strange to be so far away from Paris at this time of the year. Still, I suppose, it is good for me to see America a little, and then of course, playing at the Bowl is an excellent introduction to the Pacific Coast. Still, I do miss the rue Ballu very much. Now that Katherine isn't there to write me all the little details about what is going on I feel very much out of it. Perhaps, during the summer you will be able to find a little time to write me. (Address: 223 W. 78 St. always.)
Give my best regards to Madame Boulanger. Tell her I miss her taquinage as to how 'celebre' I have become. With deep affection, as ever