Toscanininotes

In Manhattan last week Arturo Toscanini conducted the Philharmonic Orchestra's 2298th concert, the last of the season, its valedictory before it merges with the New York Symphony and becomes the Philharmonic-Symphony of New York. Toscanini will be chief conductor of the blended band. As such last week he was painted by newspapermen:

He is 61, slight, grizzled, the highest paid conductor in the world.*

He conducts wholly from memory, with light, cork-tipped batons imported from Italy. He rarely uses the same stick twice. He often hums while conducting. He will have no guests at his rehearsals.

He never grants interviews. While in Manhattan he lives at the Hotel Astor, but he likes Milan better. He always dines in his own apartment, eats little and preferably Italian food. Like Lord Rothermere and Il Duce (see page 18), he never smokes. He sleeps five hours a night, with his dog Pictiu, a Brussels griffon given him by Frances Alda, beside him in a basket. He shaves himself--and with a safety razor.

In Italy he is conductor of the Scala Opera in Milan--but he likes a concert orchestra better. He is interested in politics, ran once for the Italian Parliament on a Fascist ticket. His hobbies are painting and riding in a fast automobile; his life spent simply with Signora Toscanini, his two daughters--Wanda and Wally (the w's pronounced as v), his son Walter, a book collector in Milan.

He entertains old friends, few new ones--and opera singers practically not at all. As conductor he is supreme, can vitalize well-worn music as no other of the day. With him the music is the thing. A dowager soprano once fussed "But, maestro, don't you realize that I'm a star?"

"Stars, Madame," the Signor's reply was characteristic, "Stars are in the sky. You are on the stage."

*Engaged this season for 40 concerts at approximately $60,000, or $1,500 a concert.