“At the same time I would like to remark that the usual mechanical, cut and dried performance (customary in many cities) be avoided and in its place the ‘new period’ style which stresses proper accentuation, the rounding off of melodic and rhythmical nuances be substituted. The life-nerve of a symphonic production rests in the conductor’s spiritual and intellectual conception of the composition, it being assumed, of course, that the orchestra possesses the necessary powers to realize this conception. Should the latter condition be absent, I recommend that my works be left unperformed.”

“Although I have tried through exact markings of the dynamics, the accelerations and slowing up of the tempo, to clearly indicate my wishes, I must confess that much, even that which is of the greatest importance cannot be expressed on paper. Only a complete artistic equipment on the part of the conductor and players, as well as a sympathetic and spiritually enlivened performance can bring my works to their proper effect.”

It was Liszt’s desire to free the performance of orchestral and choral works from the limitations of bar line rhythm and to effect this change his style of conducting became a sort of modern chironomy in which his gestures expressed the “melos” and underlying spirit of the composition as well as fulfilling their mechanical function.

From Liszt we easily trace the line of growth in the art of conducting to Richard Wagner, and interestingly enough, with Richard Wagner the great line of composer-conductors stops.

In this day and generation the ever increasing tendency of specialization has brought about an almost complete separation of creative activity from executive activity. Even in the 18th and early 19th century the virtuoso who travelled around was principally a composer who played his own works. The conductor, player, or singer who performs only the works of others is a modern product and was completely unknown until recently.

But, before reviewing the names and accomplishments of the line of purely virtuoso conductors, we must take time to consider Richard Wagner’s position as conductor.

That same unquenchable reformatory fire which manifested itself in Wagner’s composing made him one of the greatest conductors in all musical history. His illuminating performances of Weber’s “Freischuetz,” Gluck’s “Iphigenia,” Palestrina’s “Stabat Mater,” Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony” still cast their echoes down the corridors of time to the influencing of performances that are being given today. Beethoven’s “Ninth Symphony” was performed three times by Wagner (in 1846, ’47 and ’49) and not once did his name appear on the program. What a contrast to these days, when often in the advance announcement only the name of the ‘prima donna’ conductor appears!

For years Beethoven’s colossal work was the rock upon which many talented conductors had foundered. Only the Parisian conductor, Habeneck, who conducted from a violin-part, had the patience and character to so drill his Conservatoire orchestra that they mastered to a relatively high degree the difficulties of the work. Wagner tells us in his book on conducting, of the great disappointment that was his when he heard the actual performance in Germany of works which he had come to love through the study of the score. In fact, his book is almost entirely a diatribe against the superficial and conscienceless conductors of this time. Habeneck’s performance of the “Ninth” opened his eyes and he did not rest until he was likewise able to give performances of Beethoven’s immortal work that were to mark a new era and standard of orchestral technic.

He placed little stress on tempo marks, agreeing with Bach that a true musician is able to tell from the character of the music just how fast or slow a composition is to be taken. Taking his cue from Habeneck, he made perfection of ensemble and correct rendition of the notes his starting point and on this solid foundation he reared a structure of the highest poetic beauty and imagination. The melos or spiritual melody of the artwork was sought by him in every measure and when found he caused whichever instrument through which it was expressed to sing it with the utmost intensity and conviction. His fanatical desire to always bring out the “melos” caused him at times to even go so far as to alter the instrumentation of the original, giving notes to the trumpets and horns which they in Beethoven’s time did not possess, and often changing awkward passages in the woodwinds which he considered were dictated more by Beethoven’s deafness than his better musical judgment.

Descriptions of Wagner’s conducting tell us of a man of no more than medium height with a rather still deportment, moderate but decisive movements of the arms, a great vivacity and a habit of fixing a piercing glance on the players of the orchestra which he ruled imperially. Fürstenau, the flutist, related to Felix Weingartner that when Wagner conducted they had no sense of being led and that each player believed himself to be following freely his own feeling. And yet everything was bound together so powerfully by Wagner’s mighty will that everything went with wonderful smoothness and precision.