Now to estimate the value of a quondam conductor of concerts and of choral societies at a theatre, it is advisable to pay him a visit at home, i.e., in the concert-room, from which he derives his reputation as a “solid” German musician.  Let us observe him as a conductor of orchestral concerts.  Looking back upon my earliest youth I remember to have had unpleasant impressions from performances of classical orchestral music.  At the piano or whilst reading a score, certain things appeared animated and expressive, whereas, at a performance, they could hardly be recognised, and failed to attract attention.  I was puzzled by the apparent flabbiness of Mozartian Melody (Cantilena) which I had been taught to regard as so delicately expressive.  Later in life I discovered the reasons for this, and I have discussed them in my report on a “German music school to be established at Munich,” [Footnote:  “Bericht ueber eine in Munchen zu errichtende deutsche Musikschule” (1865).  See Appendix A.] to which I beg to refer readers who may be interested in the subject.  Assuredly, the reasons lie in the want of a proper Conservatorium of German music—­a Conservatory, in the strictest sense of the word, in which the traditions of the classical masters’ own style of execution are preserved in practice—­which, of course, would imply that the masters should, once at least, have had a chance personally to supervise performances of their works in such a place.  Unfortunately German culture has missed all such opportunities; and if we now wish to become acquainted with the spirit of a classical composer’s music, we must rely on this or that conductor, and upon his notion of what may, or may not, be the proper tempo and style of execution.

In the days of my youth, orchestral pieces at the celebrated Leipzig Gewandhaus Concerts were not conducted at all; they were simply played through under the leadership of Conzertmeister [Footnote:  i.e., the leader of the first violins.] Mathai, like overtures and entr’actes at a theatre.  At least there was no “disturbing individuality,” in the shape of a conductor!  The principal classical pieces which presented no particular technical difficulties were regularly given every winter; the execution was smooth and precise; and the members of the orchestra evidently enjoyed the annual recurrence of their familiar favourites.

With Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony alone they could not get on, though it was considered a point of honour to give that work every year.  I had copied the score for myself, and made a pianoforte arrangement for two hands; but I was so much astonished at the utterly confused and bewildering effect of the Gewandhaus performance that I lost courage, and gave up the study of Beethoven for some time.  Later, I found it instructive to note how I came to take true delight in performances of Mozart’s instrumental works:  it was when I had a chance to conduct them myself, and when I could indulge my feelings as to the expressive rendering of Mozart’s cantilena.