An Immortal Dinner

The home of Anna and Adolf Brodsky was no ordinary place. One day when Johannes Brahms was paying a visit, practicing the piano, the doorbell rang and who should be there but a second guest, Peter Tchaikovsky. Apparently Tchaikovsky didn’t particularly like the music he was hearing and he was nervous about seeing Brahms, whom he had never met.

The two composers were about as different as they could be. The noble born Tchaikovsky was elegant and courteous. Brahms was blunt and stocky and energetic and no respecter of manners. “Am I interrupting?” Tchaikovsky asked.

“Not at all, “Brahms said hoarsely. “But why are you going to hear this? It’s not the least bit interesting.”

Tchaikovsky sat down and listened, getting increasingly restless. Brahms paused, giving Tchaikovsky an opportunity to comment. It passed. The situation became awkward and then the bell signaled the arrival of new guests–Edvard Grieg and his wife, Nina. They knew Brahms but had never met Tchaikovsky. The shy, sensitive Russian loved Grieg’s music and took an immediate liking to the Griegs, who put him at ease.

At dinner Nina started out sitting between Tchaikovsky and Brhams, but after a few minutes she said, “I can’t sit between these two. It makes me too nervous.”

Grieg jumped up, saying, “I have the courage.” And so the three composers sat side by side — Grieg, Tchaikovsky, and Brahms, all of them in good spirits. After awhile the dinner resembled a children’s party. Brahms grabbed a dish of strawberry jam, saying that nobody else could have any. And after dinner, over cigars and coffee, Adolf Brodsky got out a magic set and began performing tricks, much to everyone’s delight. The gruff Brahms was particularly taken with the show and demanded an explanation of the secret behind each trick.

But the real magic was in the gathering of three great composers — Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and Grieg.