Nadia Boulanger: War Years in America and Her Last Decades

Nadia Boulanger, the great musician, teacher and conductor of the first half of the 20th century, lived well into the second half of the century. She died at 92 in 1979. At age fifty-three she fled the Nazis and came to teach at the Longy School of Music in Cambridge, where she met my aunt Ruth Robbins, a thirty-year old student in her composition class.

Until her death, Nadia and Ruth remained warm friends. Over four decades they exchanged hundreds of cards and letters. Fortunately my aunt preserved Nadia’s letters in a wooden box on her bookshelf, and Ruth’s letters to Nadia were held by the Nadia and Lili Boulanger International Foundation in Paris. Now the letters repose side by side in the collection of the Bibliotheque nationale de France.

This exchange is fascinating for many reasons. Both women had excellent command of language and the letters are a delight to read. They were written in English for the most part. Nadia’s English is creative, amusing, and often inspiring. Ruth wrote with extraordinary clarity, warmth and understanding about the issues she faced.

But the deepest impression about these letters—after three years of immersion in this relationship between two unusual women—is that they are actually a meditation on life, death, and art, shared between two lonely souls who discovered, fortuitously and unexpectedly, a natural compassion for one another.

Nadia Boulanger was at a low point when she arrived in the United States in November 1940. She felt worried and guilty about those left behind. She saw everything she believed in—spiritual faith, humanitarianism, music, beloved musicians—under threat. Four months after her arrival, in her March 18, 1941 letter to Doda Conrad [translation by Jeanice Brooks in The Musical Work of Nadia Boulanger, Cambridge University Press, 2016, p. 256], she wrote:

I drag with me the shame of having left (and though I couldn’t have done otherwise, that doesn’t change anything at all). I carry around my old incurable wounds, whose healing would make me despair: they are all that remains to me of a past that was so sweet, so dear and so beautiful, that, if I were allowed to choose [whether or not to heal], my decision would be without hesitation.

After this brief poetic wallow in misery, Nadia sets her sights on regaining beauty:

Nevertheless other duties call, and we have to find again our enthusiasm and our energy…. We will set ourselves to work, and we will run up against obstacles that we will end up, if not vanquishing, at least diminishing; we will be touched to the bottom of our souls by the music of a poor man, as miserable as we are, in fact, and however sad and miserable he was (after all, just like us), because it was given to him to encounter God , and to make us encounter Him, everything—even our most profound and legitimate distress—will take on a different color. And between friendship and art, we will quickly find again the real meaning of life, its beauty and our love for it.

These last words are the vision of hope and growth Nadia offered to my aunt Ruth: “Between friendship and art, we will quickly find again the real meaning of life, its beauty and our love for it.”

In my book Nadia Boulanger: War Years in America and Her Last Decades the letters between Mlle Boulanger and my aunt Ruth reveal the classical philosophy Nadia espoused, her relationship with pianist Idil Biret, her take on the war between chaos and beauty; her faith in the spiritual experience accessible through music and ritual; and her time with Igor Stravinsky in California.

What strikes me now is the depth of emotion, often subtly expressed, in the last letters of their exchange, written over seven years, from when Nadia was eighty-six years old, until her death at ninety-two. I am now well past the midpoint of my eighth decade, so the words of an aging Nadia Boulanger and how she took comfort in her deep friendship with Ruth are especially poignant, but perhaps younger people will appreciate these letters, too.

The late Peter Boodberg, as outstanding a teacher and exemplar of literature as Boulanger was of music, was once asked by a student, “Professor Boodberg, you have so many marvelous insights on poetry and history, why haven’t you written more?”

“Why should I chop down trees when I can just stroll through the forest?” was his response. So I won’t chop down trees for you, but you are free to wander on your own through these final exchanges between an aging Nadia Boulanger and her younger friend Ruth Robbins.

18 September 1973

Dear Ruth,

Marcelle describes me Sunday for visit her chats with you, and your letter receive from this living report and kind of active life. Thank you so much for all that your letter brings, and understand why mine is dictated and short. But so warm, so full of all what is employed that it permits these poor little moves to carry a treasury of affection.

As ever, your old devoted,
N.B

December 1973

Dear Ruth,

You know how frequently you are in my mind. I miss you so much, but a special thought goes to you for the 18th. Feel present here affectionate memories, need of exchange, and understand how faithfully I am your,

Nadia Boulanger

4 January 1974

Dear Ruth,

Have I, or not, sent you the wishes which bloom in my heart? You are so near... and so far... I feel you present – and miss you badly. Year marked by the death of very close friends, very difficult to stand. And one needs to love more the ones who are there. Great affection from your NB.

January 1974
Paris

Dear Ruth,

What a joy brings your letter!

I also keep present our adventures, the vain search for one pleasant place to have lunch on the highway, and hundreds and hundreds of details, always present. Alas! Many sad memories exist, as well. You probably did not hear of the passing of Barbara Trask, which causes me great sadness.

With her, too, so many evocations of the past have abolished the distance between California and Paris.

With you, I keep on and keep on dreaming that you will announce your arrival tomorrow, for just half a day, but it would mean seeing you and going on hoping and thinking of you so profoundly, so tenderly, so affectionately, so faithfully.

I remain your poor old half broken,
Nadia Boulanger

And alas, Annette fell last Saturday and broke her wrist. It seems not to be very severe, but she can do nothing with her right arm and her life is quite impossible for the time being. Were she here today, she would join me in sending wishes and all our attachment, so great as you know, without forgetting your anniversary on January 21.

24 December 1977

Dear N.B.,

How I wish I could turn back the clock 37 years and start my lessons with you all over again!! Only I would like to start out with a more solid musical background. Do you know I had never even heard of counterpoint until I worked with you! I would not want to relive all those years, but I would have an awful time deciding which ones to leave out!

I hope you are well and are having a Merry Christmas, and will have a VERY Happy New Year.

I miss you! And love,
Ruth

21 September 1975

Dear Ruth,

Your wishes, your letter, your affection coming here in this calm village with Anna and Cecile Dungler you may have known. But one of my godchildren, mother of five little girls, is in great danger. Facing death—or, what a recovery. I can no more be of any help. Wait, and it is all!

Thinking of you brings peace and sustains me.

Most faithfully, and in profound attachment,
N.B.

January 1976
Paris

Dear Ruth,

Soon it will be the 21st of January, and I fear I shall be late and it causes me real trouble, for you know you are so often on my mind.

Life goes on here as usual, unbearable to everybody, even for me, but I still survive.

What is most sad is the news about Sister Ignatia I received through Mrs. Chapman. She seems to be in good health but completely absent minded, having forgotten about Lamarr’s death, about us. It is so painful. Our dear Sister Ignatia, enlightened by such an inner, vivacious, deep personality.

Marcelle is still in the States, but comes back next week, and told you all that goes on here.

Seem to be dominated by a hope to have the mail in order, all answered, and that enters already in the field of impossibility, but the mind remains free and I am often with you, thinking, hearing, remembering, and it would not be fair to say that you are absent. Unseen, yes—but absent, no, by no means.

And with deep affection I send you wishes. I hope you go through the turmoil spread over the whole world, sufficiently absorbed in your own activities, that you perceive the necessity to pursue our own efforts more than ever.

Winifred would certainly have joined, had she known I was writing you, and Annette does from the depth of her heart.

Forever and for my ever, yours,
N.B.

March 1976

[handwritten around NADIA’s printed name on the back of an invitation to a March 15, 1976 Lili Boulanger memorial service]

So touched by such faithfulness,
Nadia Boulanger
begs you to receive thanks,
wishes and hopes.
N.B.

20 August 1976
Fontainebleau

Dear Ruth,

Needless to say that who comes introduced by you is welcomed.

But here is coming the last week in Fontainebleau, and immediately after departure for a whole month of September on holiday. It is quite impossible to see your protégée before my coming back to Paris. Will you be kind enough to tell her to write Place Lili Boulanger end of September to arrange an appointment, and whatever I can do, I will do my best to do.

We are overloaded with work, but this does not change our constant thoughts.

Most affectionately, N.B.

[1977]

Dear Ruth,

Already 37 years and present as if it were yesterday. Feel you are often present here and remembering so many memories, so often brought to light.

Find here thoughts, wishes and the great attachment of your,

Nadia Boulanger

20 January 1977
Paris

Dear Ruth,

Why in my craziness did I settle as your anniversary February 21? Anyhow, here I am hands full with wishes and the heart burning with affection.

Nadia Boulanger
Adresse Personnelle : 3 Place Lili Boulanger - Anct 36 rue ballu, 75009 Paris

15 September 1977

[dictated and handwritten by assistant]

Your letter arrives, just in order to celebrate what you all make a wonderful day. In fact, the day is as beautiful as it is difficult, on account of general decay. Yes, all that you awake is still present: Bordeaux, Chartres, Chicago, Baltimore, etc., etc., and I do miss you more and more. Time passes, but I want to see you at least once more. Am trying to answer some of the numerous messages; even in choosing, it is hard to keep up, obliged as I am to dictate. Read the unwritten, feel what part I take in all that concerns you and believe in my profound faithful affection. Live with your “chemisette” in French, they are keeping quite willingly with the terrible rhythm to which they are submitted. So do the flannel (?) couverture!

10 January 1978

Paris

Dear Ruth,

Well, in time I shall not be but nevertheless with you very often and especially on January 21. Read what I should have liked to have written, and believe in my endless affection.

Nadia Boulanger

10 September 1978

[dictated and handwritten by assistant]

Dear Ruth,

You are always with me, more especially on the Feast days, in memory days. Your sweet little message means so much and I can assure you that even if you did not state it, I would hear it. Knowing that you are always here. The summer was very difficult, but ended with no deficit in spite of our fears. I am the only one who has to stand sacrifices, and lately a rather long séjour in hospital with only one problem: old age.

Let me say that it is a hard one, because nobody can bring a remedy to it. Anyhow, it is wonderful to feel oneself spoiled and surrounded by so many friends. Something miraculous about it!

Feel me very near and very moved by so much love.

N.B.

Christmas 1978

Nadia wrote her last words to Ruth in her own hand, signing her full name: “Happy Christmas Faithful Wishes Nadia Boulanger” the rest of this note was dictated and handwritten by a friend.

Thank you so much for your letter, dear Ruth. It is so good to hear from you, though it would be so much better to see you. Well, dreams sometimes come to realization!

With love and hopes,

Happy Christmas, Faithful wishes,

Nadia Boulanger

4 September 1979

Ruth’s last letter to Nadia, written six weeks before Nadia’s death on October 22, 1979

Dear N.B.,

I am almost too embarrassed to write you after letting so much time go by since the last letter. I am in a tremendous upheaval as I decided to move to California to be near my sister and her family. The movers will be here next week and I have been frantically going through things to dispose as much as possible.

Among the wonderful treasures are so many reminders of you! Programs, letters, photos, music and, yes, a bowl full of stones you collected in Santa Barbara.

I am very reluctantly giving up rocks I have collected from Montana, Colorado and California, but yours I will keep to be reminded of so many wonderful times with you.

With love and kisses and wishes for a VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

From Ruth

© 2023 James Whipple Miller