On April 29, 1936, mounted police were summoned to Carnegie Hall to control a virtual mob competing to obtain 100 standing-room seats that were about to go on sale for Arturo Toscanini's farewell appearance with the New York Philharmonic. He had been associated with the orchestra for 11 years and its musical director for almost as long. With this concert, Americans, who first came to know Toscanini from his tenure at the Metropolitan Opera (1908-15), believed they might be seeing him for the last time. Fortunately David Sarnoff, president of RCA and its subsidiary, NBC, made it otherwise.

Mortimer H. Frank. (Photo by Carol P. Frank)

Although musically unsophisticated, Sarnoff was sufficiently astute to recognize that classical music had a key role in what was, in 1936, still referred to as "the miracle of broadcasting." The result of his vision was the creation for radio and for Toscanini of the NBC Symphony Orchestra, a world-class ensemble that remained in existence until Toscanini's retirement in 1954. This 17-year association was to prove the longest of the Maestro's unprecedented 68-year career, exceeding by one his 16 years (in three separate appointments) as music director of Milan's La Scala Opera. It also marked his completion of a professional transition from the pit to the podium. With the perspective that only history can provide, it has become evident that the greatest significance of Sarnoff's creation is its having led to nearly two decades of symphonic broadcasts preserved in sonically excellent transcription discs recorded during the concerts by NBC's engineers. The work of no other conductor of the period is so copiously documented.

The historical importance of this documentation became evident in 1963, when New York radio station WRVR, with the cooperation of Toscanini's son, Walter, drew upon NBC's transcriptions to rebroadcast—exactly as originally aired—the first two NBC Symphony seasons under the Maestro. At that time I was a graduate student with an intense interest in the conductor that had been catalyzed initially by his extraordinary recordings of Beethoven's "Eroica" and "Pastoral" Symphonies. These rebroadcasts made clear what some knowledgeable critics who had written extensively about the conductor had claimed: specifically, that his concert performances were often more flexible, dramatic, and communicative than his studio recordings.

Arturo Toscanini, c. 1937. (Photo Courtesy of RCA)

Unfortunately, the WRVR series was short lived. But it whetted my appetite (and that of many others) to hear the remaining 15 years of Toscanini's NBC association. Ironically, this ultimately became possible as a result of the untoward razing in 1981 of the Villa Pauline (one of the conductor's two New York homes in Riverdale). By that time, I was a resident of the area and a professional critic, who, along with other residents, was outraged by the razing and anxious to create in its wake a permanent Toscanini memorial in the neighborhood. What resulted was legal permission to obtain tape copies of the otherwise tightly controlled NBC Symphony broadcasts, to be used as an archive for study and as a source for scholarly research and symposiums. That archive was housed at Wave Hill, Toscanini's Riverdale residence during World War II. In 1982 I was fortunate to be appointed its curator. In 1991 the even more extensive Toscanini family archive was acquired by the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center.

Beyond question, the availability of this material for auditioning has not only added extraordinary dimension to what is known of Toscanini, but has enabled refutation of some of the ill-judged generalizations made about his work by some more recent critics who, it would seem, have failed to take a close look at it. Certainly hearing his many performances of a given work reveals what his able biographer, Harvey Sachs, called a "relentless self-dissatisfaction," with one account almost invariably differing from another in a variety of ways. Moreover, the NBC broadcasts include a number of major scores for which Toscanini left no studio recording, their presentation at NBC thus being the only surviving sources for his view of them. Notable in this regard are the Bach Second "Brandenburg" Concerto; Brahms German Requiem; Haydn's Symphonies Nos. 31, 92, and 104; Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto (with Heifetz) and Fair Melusina and Hebrides Overtures; Schumann's Second Symphony; and Wagner's Overtures to Rienzi and The Flying Dutchman, to cite but some.

Mortimer Frank will be signing purchased copies of his book Arturo Toscanini: The NBC Years at the Juilliard Bookstore, Thursday, April 11 from 5-7 p.m.

For me, hearing and rehearing Toscanini's NBC broadcasts has proven a fascinating walk into history—indeed, one so stimulating and revealing that it has led to my completing a detailed study of those 17 years. Published in March, it is the first book about the conductor to be based on all of his NBC performances. It also provides information not to be found in any other single source. But most of all, its undertaking has clarified for me with pointed cogency why so many thoughtful and committed NBC musicians were transformed by working with the Maestro. Nothing illustrates this better than comments by violinist Samuel Antek, who was with the orchestra throughout its existence: "Playing with Toscanini was a musical rebirth. The clarity, intensity, and honesty of his musical vision—his own torment—was like a cleansing baptismal pool. Caught up in his force, your own indifference was washed away. You were not just a player, another musician, but an artist once more searching for long-forgotten ideals and truths."

How rare it is for a conductor to inspire such adulation from tough, seasoned orchestral players who may often be all too ready to complain about perceived shortcomings in their leader. Almost a half century after Toscanini's retirement and the disbanding of the orchestra David Sarnoff created for him, their collaboration survives as a tribute to Sarnoff's vision, Toscanini's powers, and one of the noblest ventures in American broadcasting.

Mortimer H. Frank joined Juilliard's Evening Division faculty in 1996, teaching a course in Toscanini's NBC career. His book, Arturo Toscanini: The NBC Years (Amadeus Press, 2002,) is for sale in the Juilliard Bookstore.