Photo (from left to right): Karl-Albrecht Weinberger, Director of the Jewish Museum Vienna, composer Walter Arlen and Barbara Prammer, President of the Austrian Parliament.
The tiny and fragile Walter Arlen (b. 1920) in his dark suit and tie sat calmly at the left side of the stage at the back at a small table a glass of water at his hand. A microphone clipped to his jacket, he seemed tired as this concert in his honor draws to a close after more than two hours.
It was a moving event, recognizing the 70th anniversary of the Nazi Anschluss of Mar. 12, 1938, at Vienna’s Jewish Museum. On the stage with him Music Curator Michael Haas “my actual discoverer,” as Arlen put it, was alert to his failing energy wove an effortless narrative of history and insight around the old man’s memories, including the audience in a musical fireside chat.
At the same time, Arlen’s bright eyes and charming smile glowed with excitement as the evening reached its climax. Respected in America as Music Critic for the Los Angeles Times, Arlen had rarely been the center of attention as a composer, except perhaps at Loyola Marymount University’s Music Department in the 1960s.
So, this was a special homecoming after the decades of exile, after the shock of disinterest in Austria for its returned Jews after World War II. This was not something unique to Walter Arlen; a whole generation of Austrians suffered this same fate. But every life, and every story is unique, and needs to be told, touching the listener each time when the recounting of a life lost and found.
An exhibition accompanying the concert included photographs and personal documents, complementing the ongoing exhibition on the Korngolds, the celebrated Viennese critic and his famous émigré composer son.
On that evening, Arlen told his story was told in six episodes from the dark days in March 1938 to the present, interspersed with performances of his chamber music by soprano Irene Waller, violinist Iva Nicolova, and Andrea Linsbauer on the piano.
Returning to Austria after the fall of the Third Reich left Arlen feeling divided; a feeling that endures today: “So fühle ich mich immer in einem Zwiespalt,” said Arlen. The feelings of longing for his home land persisted; his mother had committed suicide in exile.
On the other hand, “Austrians behaved very, very badly after the war,” Arlen said in an interview with the Viennese weekly Der Falter. “That was all a scam: For the applications for compensation we received nothing from the archives. It was a disgusting, appalling fight that we had to do for some restitution.” And then there were the human losses of the disastrous Nazi-Rule of the years 1938 to 1945, the loss of so many friends, relatives and colleagues.
“Telling those stories gets on my nerves,” Arlen admits, and one feels his impatience with hearing his music performed. Indeed, the last two items performed that evening connected one of Arlen’s first musical experiences – the Viennese Schlager ‘Wenn die letzte Blaue geht’ (1919) by Willy Engel-Berger (1890 – 1946) – to one of his last composition that he entitled Die Letzte Blaue (“the last blue one”) referring to the blue tag marking the last tramway of the evening, still used until a few years ago by the Wiener Linien. Missing die letzte Blaue, meant the train had left for good, chosen by the organizers – Jewish Museum of Vienna, Exil.Arte and grundstein – as a symbol for Walter Artlen’s life.
When Arlen was a little boy, he sang the ‘letzte Blaue’ on the counter of the Warenhaus Dichter, near the Brunnenmarkt, the largest department store outside Vienna’s First District, founded and then owned by Arlen’s grandfather, Leopold Dichter. It took decades to find the music to the old song again, Arlen said, but eventually he succeeded, and in 2000, he wrote his own paraphrase for piano solo. The 1920s Schlager is catchy, a bit like a Scott Joplin rag, although Irene Wallner only partly matched the lightheartedness and felt more like a Lieder interpretation.
Arlen reinterpreted the Letzte Blaue, splicing it with elements of the Fledermaus overture or the Donauwaltzer of Johann Strauss Jr.. Although skillfully executed by Andrea Linsbauer, the piece seemed to call for a little more elegance, beyond the drive of the original Schlager, drawing deeper into the pull of the implied nostalgia. Nevertheless, Arlen’s writing reveals here a compositional quality of Leonard Bernstein, skillfully interweaving his own musical ideas with those from the reminiscent past.
The event took place before a packed house: For the latecomers that evening, it meant standing, as the 150 seats were quickly filled. Many of the composers relatives and friends attended, including Arlen’s sister Edith Arlen Wachtel, former Austrian Ambassador to the U.S., Peter Moser and his wife, in a rush of ‘hellos’ and hugs, tears of happiness and joy.
This is an excerpt, the full article was published in April 2008 in The Vienna Review.



I was one of Walter Arlen’s students at Loyola Marymount University in the 1960s. His music history and theory classes were my first introduction to the world of classical music. What an amazing gift they were to me, a gift that has remained with me into my adult life. He was a great teacher, and one that I will always remember with fondness and thanks. I am so happy to see Mr. Arlen honored in his native Austria.
Thank you very much for your comment! It was a truely movning event, and possibly the most appropriate one to see that day. I also liked the de-politicised speech of Barbara Prammer which gave the evening a personal touch: Austria commemorates the individual loss of the Anschluss 1938, and what other sphere would be more appropirate than music?
If you like, I would be happy to send you the full published article of the April Issue of The Vienna Review.
Matthias Wurz
I was a music student of Mr. Arlen in the 70’s. I can still hear his admonishions in my head, in fact, the phrase “on the piano” (in the article above) would have been a no no in his music criticism class! He was the best teacher I ever had, and I’m delighted that he is still with us, and being honored for his work.
Steve Barilovits, LMU ‘77