von Karajan
Apr. 5th, 2008 08:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
porphyryThere is an old story about the conductor Herbert von Karajan (posted last year elsewhere on LJ), whose centennial is this month. The Berlin Philharmonic orchestra was playing in New York. At a dinner party, another conductor, Leonard Bernstein, was heard to say, “Last night, God spoke to me in a dream and said, ‘Lennie, you are the best conductor there ever was!’” Von Karajan overheard this remark and was said to reply, “I said no such thing!”
The interesting thing about this is that Malkhos and I appreciate the joke but also recognize the veracity of Von Karajan’s statement. We discussed it this morning.
“Well,” I say. “Von Karajan is right.”
“About what?” asks Malkhos.
“The conductor is God. Show me anybody else on the planet who can do what they do. Every time a conductor raises his baton, he resurrects from the dead the soul of the composer. Obviously, the work of a composer is the most virtuous part of his soul, the most perfect part. The part inspired by God, certainly, or whatever you want to call it. A musician alone can’t do it. But for the conductor, the composer dies a permanent death.”
Malkhos considers this. “That’s quite clever,” he tells me.
“No, it’s not,” I say. “That’s easy. I suppose, though, if I really wanted to make that argument, I would also have to say doctors are like God, too. They bring people back from the dead all the time.”
“No,” says Malkhos. “Doctors are only interested in the body, not the soul.”
“True,” I say. “They’re too diplomatic, too. They don’t save the virtuous. They’ll save anybody.”
It’s nice to live with somebody with whom I have such harmony.
The interesting thing about this is that Malkhos and I appreciate the joke but also recognize the veracity of Von Karajan’s statement. We discussed it this morning.
“Well,” I say. “Von Karajan is right.”
“About what?” asks Malkhos.
“The conductor is God. Show me anybody else on the planet who can do what they do. Every time a conductor raises his baton, he resurrects from the dead the soul of the composer. Obviously, the work of a composer is the most virtuous part of his soul, the most perfect part. The part inspired by God, certainly, or whatever you want to call it. A musician alone can’t do it. But for the conductor, the composer dies a permanent death.”
Malkhos considers this. “That’s quite clever,” he tells me.
“No, it’s not,” I say. “That’s easy. I suppose, though, if I really wanted to make that argument, I would also have to say doctors are like God, too. They bring people back from the dead all the time.”
“No,” says Malkhos. “Doctors are only interested in the body, not the soul.”
“True,” I say. “They’re too diplomatic, too. They don’t save the virtuous. They’ll save anybody.”
It’s nice to live with somebody with whom I have such harmony.
