Stefan Jarociński in a letter to Witold Lutosławski [1948]
When one interacts with you, one feels a sense of humility not only toward you as an artist but also as a human being. These two aspects of your nature can only coexist harmoniously in a brilliant individual, provided they are in balance. [...] However, there is a danger inherent in your nature: the human being might overshadow the artist, as there is such a tendency in you, and you do not always manage to resist it.
Quoted in: Elżbieta Markowska, Lutosławski 1913–2013, Warsaw 2013, p. 184
Zygmunt Mycielski [1955, 1969]
Lutosławski is always focused, attentive, precise, and very rangé—as the French say. [...] Reserved, economical, and careful with form, he may seem a bit dry in his reasoning. Many criticize him for this, but I consider these accusations of a lack of directness to be a compliment, especially here, in our fractured and messy country, among people who mask emptiness and a lack of education with effusiveness and imprecision, which are supposed to signal talent. Lutosławski does not tolerate this. He prefers everything to be well-organized; he values the precision of thought and the clarity of its expression. This extends to his compositions, where he detests absentmindedness. [...]
A European of a kind that never existed in Russia (the gentlemen of St. Petersburg were as Russian as the Muscovites, just with more French or German sophistication)—and one who is no longer found in Poland.
Zygmunt Mycielski, Dziennik 1950–1959, Warsaw 1999, p. 177;
Journal 1960–1969, Warsaw 2001, pp. 578–579
Julia Hartwig [1996]
What was Lutosławski like in conversation? Always engaging, endowed with rare social charm and delicacy. Hermetically discreet in all matters concerning his own privacy, as well as that of others.
Julia Hartwig, At Mr. and Mrs. Lutosławski's, in Lutosławski – Homage, Warsaw 1996
Jan Krenz in conversation with Elżbietą Markowska [1996]
I would like to emphasize his perfectionism in every area of life (foreign languages being one example). He became an unmatched model for all of us. I say 'unmatched' because, while many of us have great ambitions, wonderful intentions, and wide possibilities, life—and often we ourselves—become obstacles to their fulfillment.
I believe the secret of Witold Lutosławski lay in his relentless self-discipline and his superhuman will to realize his potential. And he did so with simplicity, without pathos or seeking effect. For half a century, I witnessed his extraordinary life and compositional achievements [...]. I admired his great vitality, creative potency, and boundless energy, as well as the strength with which he took on ever-new challenges [...]. There was in him an eternal youthfulness, a constant creative ability, and an enthusiasm—perhaps masked, but enormous and deeply authentic.
Elżbieta Markowska, Jan Krenz's Fifty Years with a Baton. Conversations on Polish music, Cracow 1996, pp. 98-99
Danuta Gwizdalanka, Krzysztof Meyer [2003]
The respect in which Lutoslawski was held grew primarily out of appreciation for the artistic achievements of the “master,” but it was also aroused by his attitude and everyday behavior. Most of his time was devoted to his work – composing, as well as travels connected with concerts and lectures on his own music. His private life did not provide material for an emotionally charged biography. He maintained a rather narrow circle of friends, with whom he kept lively and regular contact. However, everything in his life was conducted in a manner that could not spark even a shadow of sensationalism, at most giving rise to the occasional anecdote.
In the circle of people he surrounded himself with, wealth was not a value he particularly esteemed. Even such details as his attire made this clear: invariably a gray but impeccably tailored suit, and his wife’s refined yet completely unpretentious dress. In the 1960s, Lutosławski donated sums of money to orphanages, and in the following decade, as his income increased, he multiplied the amounts allocated to charity. He regularly contributed to the treatment of children requiring medical care abroad. […] Thanks to the Lutosławski scholarship, both composers [...] and performers [...] were able to continue their studies with selected teachers. The broader artistic community learned about the support extended to young artists only through the beneficiaries themselves. The composer also provided assistance to those in need, often in complete secrecy, although over time, more people became aware of his generosity.
Lutosławski was admired not only for his actions in matters of great importance but also as a model of personal culture in everyday life. He never engaged in disrespectful treatment of others and was careful not to offend anyone with his behavior. With tact and subtlety, he could indicate to a conversation partner that he wished to change the subject or end the discussion altogether. Using polite yet firm language, he rejected inappropriate or unwelcome proposals received in correspondence. Remarkably, he responded to all letters, even though doing so demanded a significant amount of his time.
Danuta Gwizdalanka, Krzysztof Meyer, Lutosławski, vol. II: Droga do mistrzostwa, Cracow 2003, pp. 378–383
Ryszard Kapuściński [2004]
Lutosławski was the kind of person you wanted to invite and have around because you knew he would not only enhance the atmosphere but also bring light, serenity, and balance. He was someone whose presence you valued deeply. It was well-known that in times of trouble, he would always offer help. He was genuinely concerned about the misery or misfortune of others. When people are sometimes divided into "good" and "bad," he undoubtedly belonged to the former.
Ryszard Kapuściński in conversation with Grzegorz Michalski,
in: Grzegorz Michalski, Lutosławski in Memory, Gdańsk 2007
Jan Ekier [2004]
I no longer remember whether we were together at the festival in Hungary, or if it was under some other circumstances. In any case, during the conversation, the subject of the Hungarian language came up. And suddenly, Witek gave us a lecture in Hungarian, even though he didn’t know the language at all! [...] At the same time, only two words in the entire speech were completely understandable: Lenin and Stalin.
Jan Ekier in conversation with Grzegorz Michalski, in: Grzegorz Michalski, Lutosławski in Memory, Gdańsk 2007
- ARTIBVS
-
Vytautas felt a special spiritual elation [...] when receiving art – he reacted spontaneously to works of architecture and painting. I observed such a situation during a tour of the Kremlin temples in 1978, and similarly during a festival in 1981. At that time, my husband, an art historian, and I decided to show Vytautas and Danuta the historical monuments of Moscow – primarily the churches and the city mansions. We planned the route in detail, leaving nothing noteworthy out. The culmination was to see the white-stone Spassky Cathedral in the Andronicus Monastery, which was decorated with frescoes by Andrei Rublev. Vytautas was beaming with happiness the whole time.
Biesiedy Iriny Nikolskoj s Witoldom Lutosławskim. Statij. Vospominaniya, Moscow 1995,
excerpt translated by Natalia Voroshilskaya, quoted in: Elżbieta Markowska, Lutosławski 1913-2013, Warsaw 2013
[...] I don't look for anything in the paintings that is outside of them. Just like in music – I don't look for anything that is outside of the music itself. Nothing – except emotions. After all, music is the art of emotions, emotions of enormous variety. Therefore, it would be fundamentally false to speak of absolute music as one that is fueled only by the intellect.
Witold Lutosławski in conversation with Zofia Owińska
in: Zofia Owińska, Lutosławski o sobie, Gdańsk 2010[...] My life would certainly be much poorer if not for the experiences that art has given me. During my travels, I always visited great museums and galleries. Contact with painting and sculpture still plays a major role in my life today. On top of that, I am lucky that painters who are interested in music have actually given me their works.
Here, for example, is an etching by Vieira da Silva. This is a gift. Opposite us hangs a painting by Stażewski, a very beautiful piece that I received from him personally, [...] special compared to his other works, which are much more aggressive in color. This painting is so subdued that it almost blends into the white wall. [...] [And] here is a beautiful work by Tchórzewski, also received as a gift from him in his time. [...]
[...] Perhaps the most valuable object in this room is an etching by Vieira da Silva, the recently deceased great Portuguese painter who lived in Paris for many years. I was there once, years ago, for a large retrospective exhibition — Vieira da Silva's first retrospective in Paris — and I was delighted with her paintings. One of my Parisian friends said she knew her personally [...]. This acquaintance of mine wrote music reviews, although she was not a musician, but rather a novelist. On the occasion of a performance of one of my pieces in Paris, she wrote that she saw an analogy between my music and the paintings of Vieira da Silva. This intrigued the painter immensely, and when my friend [...] went to visit her, it was Vieira da Silva who asked her about me, requesting that she bring some of my records. It wasn’t long before they spent the entire evening listening to my music. It ended with Vieira da Silva opening a drawer and saying:
— Now, choose something for him. [...]
Another painting that may be worth mentioning is a very beautiful sketch for a portrait of my wife's grandmother by Olga Boznańska — the portrait itself was burned in the uprising. My wife’s grandmother lived in Paris and was friends with Boznańska. This sketch is one of the most valuable pieces in our entire collection.
And there hangs a large canvas by Jerzy Stajuda, who sadly passed away recently, and who gave it to me during the opening of his exhibition at Kordegarda in Warsaw. He was a man who must have had some musical training. He used to attend concerts with scores. Music must have meant much more to him than to many other listeners, and he had a great deal of sympathy for musicians.Witold Lutosławski in conversation with Zofia Owińska
in: Zofia Owińska, Lutosławski o sobie, Gdańsk 2010
The Allegory of Vermeer, a painting from the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, is not one that is easy to interpret. [...] I recalled, from a long time ago, the opinion of Witold Lutosławski, who said that for him it was the most beautiful painting in the world.
Wojciech Karpinski, Images of London, Warsaw 2014
- Reader
-
[...] erudition had a huge influence on his mentality. He was an extremely well-read man. He read in such a way that in the evening, after work, he would go to bed and read, not only to relax, but also to recharge his batteries. He had very carefully selected his reading material. He relaxed with very heavy reading. He was brilliant in fiction, and from various countries. He eventually operated in four languages and indeed knew them very well; he read in those languages. He would read aloud to my mother in bed, lying down. It is important to realize that there is a huge difference between ordinary reading and reading aloud. For example, when I read, I do not formulate words; the letters flow directly into the brain. It is very easy to skip over less interesting sentences, paragraphs, etc. On the other hand, when you read aloud, first of all, there is the rhythm of prose and poetry. Additionally, every thought is read. As he read the book, he absorbed everything that was in it.
Marcin Boguslawski in conversation with Grzegorz Michalski
in: Grzegorz Michalski, Lutosławski in Memory, Gdańsk 2007
I owe a great many authors my knowledge of the world and immense satisfaction. So, just to mention a few, for example, Swift or, from French literature, Flaubert—already mentioned in our conversation—not only for his novels, but also for his letters. Recently, I read a book that had been lying in my house untouched until I wondered how such a masterpiece could remain unread for so long: The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy by Laurence Sterne.
Witold Lutosławski in conversation with Janusz Cegiello, October 1970,
in: Janusz Cegiełła, Sketches for a Self-Portrait of Polish Contemporary Music,
Cracow 1976, pp. 14-15
In the history of our thought about art, we have [...] a futurist who overshadowed everything that had been done in this field and probably much of what will still be done in the near future. That giant of futurism was Witkacy. Whether I share all of his views or not, I consider his works not only the product of an incredible visionary gift but also the result of long years of deep thought.
Witold Lutosławski, Sounds in Any Scale, in: On Music. Writings and Statements, edited by Zbigniew Skowron, Gdańsk 2011, p. 421
[Lutosławski] inquired about the novelties in Russian literature, delighting in a recently read book by Benedict Yerofeyev, Moscow-Petushki.
Biesieda Iriny Nikolskoj s Witoldom Lutoslawski. Statij. Vospominaniya,
Moscow 1995, after Danuta Gwizdalanka, Krzysztof Meyer, Lutoslawski, vol. II: Droga do mistrzostwa, Cracow 2004, p. 464
Witold Lutosławski to Kazimiera Iłłakowiczówna
18 August 1954I do not know how to thank you for the hours I was able to spend reading your poems. They are unforgettable experiences for me. Among the things that moved me the most are O God and the last stanzas of The Province, although I am also deeply moved by many, many others. My word, it is worth living in a world where such things are created!
21 November 1956poem My Heart Was Shot [in Poznań]. I received it some time ago, and I must tell you right away that I am deeply moved by such poetry. I feel the greatest solidarity with your sentiment and great satisfaction that such a poem was written at all. God bless you!
14 August 1970[...] everything I have experienced [...] in connection with your poetry is as if outside of time. No one and nothing can take it away from me.
28 August 1974I have a folder near my desk with the poems you once gave me. I return to them again now and think of you with gratitude: that you gave me these poems and – that you wrote them!
Letters from the collection of the Kornik Library, after: Danuta Gwizdalanka, Krzysztof Meyer, Lutosławski, vol. I: Droga do dojrzałości, Cracow 2003, pp. 318-9
- Under Sail
-
Since my first contact with sailing, I have missed only one season, when I broke a finger and had my hand in a cast. Other than that, I spend a few weeks on the water every year, and sometimes I go to the Zegrzyński Lagoon for at least a few hours of sailing. It is the perfect recreation for me. [...]
I was introduced to sailing fourteen years ago [1955] by the commander of the Yacht Club of Poland, Eng. Tadeusz Schuch, who took me on my first cruise – on the Vistula River from Warsaw to Kazimierz and back. Soon after, I bought an old "elephant" boat, on which I sailed for some time, and eventually built myself an L-boat. It served me for many seasons on the Mazurian Lake District and has performed bravely ever since. [...]Through focused attention and mental involvement, one achieves the kind of intensity of leisure while sailing that I have only found in mountaineering. [...]
Although I have an excellent crew – my wife – and we enjoy sailing most with just the two of us, we often face great difficulty with ballast – we both weigh just over a hundred kilograms. Therefore, we sometimes have to invite a third person, not only for social reasons. [...]
I really enjoy the Vistula. Its landscape has so much poetry in it, and sailing on it is both fun and varied, especially when you sail alone. I can't stand the engine – it's heavy, dirty, and noisy. [...] The elements – wind and water – are capricious, varied, and unpredictable, which makes them resemble a living being. And that’s why playing with them is so passionate, like… well – like life itself.
Witold Lutoslawski in conversation with Krystyna Cygielska, “Sails” 1969, no. 4
— We [...] made two sailing trips, on which Witek was the main commander of the expedition. Their boat was called DAWI (DAnuta-WItek). I don't remember whether it was in Mikolajki or Gizycko, but in any case, there were many people from the yacht club where Witek took his first steps as a sailor. When they saw us, they greeted us through a megaphone, saying: "Welcome the boat of Mr. and Mrs. Lutoslawski – DAWI." We entered the harbor with this very welcome.
— What year could it have been?
Probably the early 1960s. When they lived in Saska Kepa, they were friends with a very prominent sportsman and sailor, Mr. Engineer Tadeusz Szuch. It was very kind of him to join the first expedition as a mentor for a novice like Witek. Thanks to that, we somehow happily navigated all those Masurian lakes that were completely new to us.
— But, knowing Lutoslawski's character, I imagine he must have learned sailing very systematically.
— Very much so! He was a perfectionist. Everything had to be done according to the rules of sailing. He was always careful to avoid areas where rocks were just below the surface of the water. They had to be avoided in order not to damage the boat. Fortunately, these areas were marked on the map. It was all lovely. When we went to bed in the evening – they in the boat, and my wife and I in a tent on land – we could hear their whispered conversations, which made it clear they were discussing how to handle some technical detail the next day.
Kordian Tarasiewicz in conversation with Grzegorz Michalski, w: Lutosławski in Memory. Twenty Conversations about the Composer, Gdańsk 2007