Nuria Schoenberg Nono talks about her life with Luigi „Gigi“ Nono

This Interview with Nuria Schoenberg Nono about her husband Luigi „Gigi“ Nono was made on September 28, 2024 in Venice.

Nuria Schoenberg Nono, when did you meet Luigi Nono?

I’m very bad with dates, but this I remember exactly. It was 1954 in Hamburg. He came to the premiere of the opera Moses und Aron by my father, Arnold Schönberg.

How did he come up with the idea of going to Hamburg?

Gigi already knew my father’s music, and I think the conductor Hermann Scherchen gave him a ride. Since it was a premiere, three years after my father’s death, my mother also came from Los Angeles. Gigi was already well known in Germany at the time; a good ten of his works premiered there between 1950 and 1954.

And a year later you got married. Was the move from Los Angeles, where you grew up, to Europe a big change for you?

We were very much in love; it was all fantastic. His parents were extremely nice to me. They treated me so well right away. My mother-in-law got us an apartment on the Giudecca here in Venice, where we then lived for decades. And my mother bought me a VW for our engagement, and we drove all over Europe in it from Darmstadt. Gigi didn’t have much money. But I had some that I had earned in America.

From Darmstadt to Venice

You were often in Darmstadt?

Yes, every year. Gigi regularly took part in the summer courses there. We also got engaged in Darmstadt, in 1954. Hans Rosbaud was conducting Incontri, the work Gigi had written for me, at the gala concert celebrating the tenth anniversary of the summer courses. There was so much applause that it had to be repeated. All of that impressed me enormously. That evening, we were invited to dinner by the mayor, along with the leading composers – the “bigwigs”, as my mother said. On this occasion, the mayor announced our engagement. Some of the composers, including Winfried Zillig (an old student of my father’s) and the conductor Rosbaud quipped: “Well, it’s not a bad first marriage.”

That wasn’t exactly nice.

They didn’t believe that it was something for our whole life and said to my mother: He is one of the best composers, but he is Italian and Italians are not faithful. That was really unpleasant for me.

Did it continue like that when you got married in Venice?

The composers kept quiet now. But Gigi’s Venetian friends, women in particular, were already shocked at the engagement. They said he had gone mad. He had become engaged to an American woman who, to make matters worse, was also a Jew. One of the women went to Gigi’s mother and said, “If you want, we can break it off.” But my mother-in-law was a wonderful person and only replied, “Gigi knows what he’s doing.”

Luigi Nono, the political composer

Luigi Nono had already made a name for himself as a political composer in the 1950s. How did you experience it?

He was a member of the Communist Party, as was usual for an artist in Italy at the time. When I had returned to Los Angeles for a year after visiting Hamburg, he wrote me countless letters and postcards in red ink. And then the Americans said: “He writes with red ink, of course, he does, he’s a communist.”

Which was true. But he was never a dogmatist.

On the contrary, he argued a lot with his comrades.

He wasn’t performed much in Italy back then. Were there political reasons for that?

The older composers who dominated musical life at the time were not in favor of him. At a concert in Baden-Baden in Germany, some of them were present. And as they stood together, he said to me: “Look, all those people are against me.” Perhaps the only exception at the time was Gian Francesco Malipiero, with whom he had studied.

In the 1970s, this seemed to be slowly changing. There was this triumvirate with Abbado, Nono and Pollini, who did a lot together, also in terms of cultural policy.

Yes, the three were wonderful and had great success for a while. Not because of some kind of old boys‘ network, but because they had ideas and achieved something. We were all close friends.

In 1982, the Diario polacco no. 2, “Quando stanno morendo”, with live electronics, premiered at the Scuola San Rocco in Venice, in a hall with huge wall paintings by Tintoretto. Nono’s music and the Venetian Renaissance: it was a perfect match. That’s when I also understood why this tradition was so important to him.

It was really very beautiful. Fortunately, there were people here in Venice who loved his music and performed it. But in the beginning it was difficult. I remember his sister shouting on the steps of the Teatro Fenice after one of the first performances: “I’m so happy about my brother’s success. Before, everyone always whistled.”

The Archivio Luigi Nono at Venice

You founded the Archivio Luigi Nono in Venice, which you still run today. The Paul Sacher Foundation in Basel was also interested in his estate. Why didn’t you give it to Basel?

I was in contact with Paul Sacher. He invited me to his house, and at lunch he told me that he would like to acquire Gigi’s estate. But he had no idea how much material there was. So I said: it has to stay in Venice.

He couldn’t convince you either with the fact that Basel has the facilities to take care of the estate in a scholarly manner and that everything is protected even from an attack by an atom bomb?

No. The whole thing was too big for me and almost a bit eerie. Five stories below ground, and somewhere there was a small steel door that opened onto the Rhine. I’m not claustrophobic, but I didn’t like it. The care would certainly have been excellent, with everything taken care of, from the first-class technical facilities to the insurance. But what bothered me, not least, was a certain isolation. You have to go through a complicated registration process, and people who are doing scholarly research apparently have priority.

For the Archivio Luigi Nono, you developed a completely different concept.

If you have an archive, then you have to have everything and show everything. At our archive, anyone can see everything, and everything is cataloged. Visitors don’t need to have a doctorate or a recommendation. For me, that’s the most important thing: openness. This way, we get a lot of interested people who want to work on exciting topics. We also get artists, painters, and scientists from very different fields.

How large is the collection?

We have around 23,000 pages of autograph music, from sketches to finished scores, 12,000 pages of written material and 6,400 pages of letters. For work purposes, there are very good photocopies of everything. The originals are in a safe, and we only take them out when absolutely necessary.

And the library?

There are 12,400 books and study scores, many of them with annotations by Gigi. You can take them off the shelves and study them in the hall. We also have 6,500 photos, 4,000 reviews and essays, as well as a large number of vinyl records, audio tapes and films.

When did you found the archive?

We founded a supporting association in 1993, and the current foundation in 2006. But the idea originated as early as 1990, when Gigi died. In his last years, he lived and worked in his parents‘ house in front of the Giudecca, on Fondamenta delle Zattere. I was with him when he was already very weak and in bed. He knew he was going to die soon. His things were in a big mess and when I looked around a bit, he said: “Would you make an archive?”

The future of the Archivio Luigi Nono and a red dress

You were with him until the end?

Yes. May 7 was my birthday, and he said: “Buy yourself something as a birthday present from me.” And so, I bought a red dress. Not a black one. He still saw the dress and liked it. He died a day later. It’s really sad; he could have done so much more. After his death, I immediately called a photographer to photograph his desk and everything in the room. I also made sure that nothing was stolen.

You are now ninety-two. When you hand over the management of the archive, who will continue to run it?

My two daughters Serena and Silvia. They are already very well trained.

How is the archive financed?

Mainly from private donations. For some time now, the state has also been giving a small amount. The whole thing only works because, with the exception of the secretary and occasional help, we work for free. The city doesn’t do anything at all. We even have to pay rent to them for the rooms. I always point out to the people in charge how important the archive is for the city. Hundreds of interested people from all over the world visit us, and a lot is written about us. But nothing happens.

Not even at the Biennale?

For some time now, the city has been planning to consolidate all cultural archives in the Biennale’s new buildings in the Arsenale, and that’s where they probably want our archive too. But in my view, that makes no sense. The archive would then only be open during office hours. Now you can even work here at weekends by appointment, and I’d like to keep it that way.

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Interviewer: Max Nyffeler

Archivio Luigi Nono, Venice

See also:
On Luigi Nono’s late work: Another World – but which one?
Nuria Schoenberg Nono remembers: Arnold Schoenberg in private
Luigi Nono 100
Zum Spätwerk von Luigi Nono: Eine andere Welt – aber welche?