Chill Wind in Chicago

World-famed German Conductor Wilhelm Furtwangler was worried. Since war's end he had conducted orchestras in Britain and Switzerland, but the bid from Chicago was his first solid offer to conduct again in the U.S.

The thought of Chicago's climate bothered him, for one thing: "I'm afraid the wind would make me nervous." He was even more worried about Chicago's hospitality. Explained an intimate friend: "The maestro . . . fears he may be unwelcome because he was appointed first musician of the Reich by Hitler, although he has [since] been cleared by the denazification courts . . ." But Furtwangler was told there was "no need to worry." In Vienna, the gaunt, 62-year-old conductor announced the deal himself: he would conduct for eight weeks at a sum neither he nor Chicago would reveal.

Cries & Convictions. Last week, the wind was howling hard enough in Chicago to blow any man down, and from a somewhat unexpected quarter. Most fellow musicians had kept their opinions to themselves when Soprano Kirsten Flagstad hit the comeback trail, two years ago, after merely accepting life in occupied Norway (TIME, Dec. 27). But when word got around that Furtwangler would be coming too, they set up an angry cry that could be heard all the way to Vienna.

Pianists Artur Rubinstein, Vladimir Horowitz and Alexander Brailowsky, Violinists Jascha Heifetz, Nathan Milstein and Isaac Stern, among others, fired off statements aimed at Chicago, warning that they would refuse to appear with the orchestra if Furtwangler conducted. Rubinstein summed it up: "Had Furtwangler been firm in his democratic convictions he would have left Germany . . . Mr. Furtwangler chose to stay and chose to perform, believing he would be on the side of the victors . . . Now he wants to earn American dollars and American prestige. He does not merit either."*

Shivers & Waistcoats. The Chicago Orchestral Association's directors were still not sure about that. After a series of musical fiascos in recent years, they wanted a "great" conductor to resurrect the orchestra's fame & fortune. Said one director: "The board all want him. He's a great musician, though I understand he's a little on the prima donna side. He might be hard for Eddie [Association President Edward Ryerson] to handle." There were other considerations. Said one symphony musician: "Maybe it's just as well if Furtwangler doesn't come. I understand his beat is very difficult and strange. He comes down with a sort of shiver, and when he gets to the second button on his waistcoat, you start to play."

In Clarens, Switzerland, where he had gone to recuperate, and rest his aching head, Conductor Furtwangler admitted that "some difficulties have arisen." Said he: "Naturally, I cannot comment on the situation until I am directly advised . . ."

At week's end, President Ryerson was till trying to decide just what his advice would be. There was no formal "contract," he said, with Furtwangler ("He's driving us crazy making his own announcements"). Said Ryerson: "Things are so jumbled now that the U.N. may have to settle them."

*Neither, said Rubinstein and Horowitz, does Pianist Walter Gieseking, who gives his first postwar U.S. concert this month. They would refuse to appear on any concert series that presents Gieseking.

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