BERNSTEIN BIOGRAPHER INCREDULOUS AT NOTORIETY

Two weeks into a promotion tour for her recently published, highly controversial book, “Bernstein: A Biography,” Joan Peyser arrives on the West Coast breathless--the air punched out of her.

“A publicity person told me this would be the easy part,” says the author, opening a patio door of her room at the Beverly Hills Hotel to catch the breeze. “But compared to the writing experience--which was fun, this is work.”

Peyser’s book (Morrow: $22.95) is an unauthorized psychological portrait of America’s most famous music figure--a Harvard Bostonian from the Jewish middle class who, against all odds, rose to become this country’s first musical megastar: conductor extraordinaire of the New York Philharmonic and the world’s leading orchestras, innovative composer of musical theater, television’s greatest classical music presence.

Incredulous at the notoriety her book has earned--due to its account of Bernstein’s reported flamboyant homosexuality and other life-style excesses--Peyser has been dubbed “the Kitty Kelley of music.” She expresses “hurt” over its several negative notices and a few interviewers who were combative:

“I just wasn’t prepared for all the ad hominem condemnations. It’s a book that I thought celebrated Bernstein. Doesn’t it?

“There’s no explaining why a critic at NPR (National Public Radio) or any of the other more intellectual forums would attack me--especially when so many people in the music business called to say things like ‘you owe me nine hours of sleep . . . I stayed awake all night reading (the book.)’ Or, ‘Peyser’s Bernstein seems like Alice in Wonderland compared to the real thing.’ ”

But the biographer--whose other books (one on Pierre Boulez) and scholarly articles, along with her editorship of the prestigious Musical Quarterly and four ASCAP Deems Taylor Awards stand her in highly credentialed stead--concedes that writing a portrait of the 69-year-old Leonard Bernstein necessarily invites controversy.

There is the book’s discussion of Bernstein’s alleged homosexuality--which Peyser traces to a rejecting, competitive, narcissistic father.

“But nothing about this acknowledgement is salacious,” she states. “I simply believe that sex--not its gratification, rather its drive--is the key to artistic creativity. It would be impossible to explain Bernstein, or anyone of this calibre, without looking at what he is. Besides, in this AIDS age I would think gays might want the world to know of their contributions, not just their grief.”

Hers is not the first music biography to cite a subject’s homosexuality; Glenn Plaskin’s 1983 “Horowitz” preceded this one, for example. But Peyser feels a certain backlash for her account of Bernstein’s sexual life.

“I’m an outsider, “ she says. “Not a homosexual, not one of their own, who can get by unscathed. And perhaps that means I’m trespassing. But I defend my judgment entirely.

“When Albert Schweitzer wrote his biography of Bach, he tried to illuminate the composer’s source of inspiration by reflecting the devout religious society that spawned him. This (the Bernstein book) is no different in approach. However, 20th-Century artistic society is secretive and closed. Most contemporary composers are homosexual. The mode of ‘you-scratch-my-back-and-I’ll-scratch-yours’ is rampant, making sex, in this case, a social force. It all goes together with insider trading and covert government action.”

Peyser likens the attacks on her for revealing Bernstein’s sexual attitudes to the harassment of Gary Hart for his romantic escapades. “They criticize me for mentioning sex,” she complains. “But then they don’t want to speak to me about anything else.”

Nor does Peyser feel she slights Bernstein’s extraordinary gifts, contrary to what some critics contend. Because he has bowed to what she feels is too narrow a compositional standard--adopting Serge Koussevitzky’s European ideals--he has yearned, in vain, to become an American Mahler; he has undervalued his contributions to Broadway.

“For all his celebrity and achievement,” says the author, “he suffers. And that’s what I tried to show. His cruelty to others is nothing more than a reflection of his own pain.”

But so many instances of cruelty crop up in the book--not to mention exhibitionism, vulgarity and greed--that some reviewers were distracted from the psychological point: There’s Bernstein humiliating his mentors (among them, Fritz Reiner and Dimitri Mitropoulos) as they declined and he rose to the top; Bernstein parading around backstage in a jockstrap, while granting an audience with his fans; Bernstein insisting on having the social spotlight exclusively to himself; Bernstein committing physical excesses on the podium.

Taken out of context for Morrow’s promotion campaign--which Peyser says she objected to because the book company’s publicists placed these items in gossip columns--these examples focused the publicity on sensationalism. However, that was the least of her problems, the author says.

“It sounds melodramatic,” she recalls now. “But when I decided to pursue this book--it was after spending a day with Bernstein (in 1983), getting material for my entry in the New Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians--I knew that writing about him meant devoting my life to the venture.

“But the rewards would be tremendous because he grows out of the aggressive, business-minded musical politics that exists today and, in exploring him, one explores it. Because he is the only American performer/creator to achieve international celebrity, what he is concerns us all.”

Peyser said she decided to research the book independently and not work with Bernstein because his company, Amberson Productions, could sell its collection of his letters and other biographical materials for “seven figures.”

Also, she said she didn’t expect Bernstein would choose her to be his speaker “for another non-book” that amounts to press puffery. So she asked merely for his occasional cooperation. “Anything more than that,” says Peyser, “would have obligated me to the same constraints of an authorized biography”--giving him final approval rights.

As it turns out, Peyser says she’s “not been challenged on a single substantive point.” To have written the book differently, without all the controversial material and consequently without the meaning of his endeavors, “would be doing Bernstein an injustice,” she says.

“That is something he’d really resent. But if I were to hazard a guess, based on knowing how much he wants to reveal himself, I’d guess he’s just tickled with it.”