MAESTRO MEMORY

“Toscanini ruled in overt terror.” Wow! Talk about a flash of deja vu ! Martin Bernheimer’s piece on conductors (“Stand Tall and Carry a Small Stick,” Feb. 5) brought to mind a picture I hadn’t thought about in over 50 years.

As a 16-year-old, in my first year as a member of New York’s All-City High School Chorus, I was excited about being part of a Red Cross benefit concert to be held at the old Madison Square Garden. This 1944 war effort was to bring together the combined NBC and N.Y. Philharmonic Symphony Orchestras and the augmented thousand-voice all-city chorus in a performance of Verdi’s “Hymn of Nations.”

At one Saturday-morning school rehearsal, the chorus was jammed into every available seat while the orchestras squeezed onto the small stage. On two separate occasions, the maestro stopped and pointed to a clarinetist to correct an apparent wrong note. Twice the offending musician answered, “No, maestro.” On the third “No, maestro,” Toscanini picked up his music stand and threw it to the stage. Rehearsal was over. For this 16-year-old, that was “overt terror.”

HALE PORTER

Los Angeles