reputation solely as a choral-symphonic specialist or as an accompanist but must be judged by his/her interpretation of the standard repertory. Here is where Wallenstein really left his mark. He eschewed the excessive gestures and personal insistence so prevalent in his day. His Brahms symphonies were clean, direct, and correct. If second movements wanted more tenderness and finales lacked urgency, at least they were free of Warner Brothers Studio-like extravagances. In Tchaikovsky's Pathetique, which invites expressive excess in nearly every phrase, Wallenstein never allowed emotion to impede the momentum of the music. His friendship with Rachmaninoff makes his recording of such works as that composer's Symphony No. 2 as close as possible to an authorized version, and it is a refreshing experience to hear a performance which finds the middle ground between cloyingly sweet and steely. Finally, Wallenstein's recordings of Beethoven, Mendelssohn, and Schubert symphonies are characterized by scrupulous attention to the composers' intentions. "The conductor is not a star, is not Beethoven, is not the orchestra expressed in one man," he once reflected, and went on: The conductor is only a tool. It is his job to know the scores, to know the players, to know the human equation. With this knowledge he gets as near as he can to the composer's wishes. The composer it is who is the real leader. Both conductor and orchestra men must defer to him. The conductor can only clarify the aims of the composer.6 Such sentiments as these he passed on to aspiring conductors, especially those which gathered for his American Conductors' Project at Peabody. Another of his more basic counsels was to learn solfeggio, which he felt indispensable as an aid to musicianship and especially to learning unfamiliar music. A tireless proponent of the chamber orchestra, he would no doubt have been pleased to see its rise in popularity in the years since his death. On the other hand, he would have been disappointed with the federal government's minimal support of music or, indeed, any of the arts. Dignity, humility, and a profound sense of responsibility were ever present in Wallenstein's work. "One must be careful not to make mediocrity the standard," he once cautioned. "Applause in nice, but it is nicer to feel yourself that what you have done is good."7 Good is a pale term for the achievement of such a bright musical star as Alfred Wallenstein. Michael Meckna, Professor of Musicology at Texas Christian University, is the author of Virgil Thomson: A Bio-Bibliography (Greenwood Press, 1986) and Twentieth-Century Brass Soloists (Greenwood, 1994). He also edited The Collected Works of Alfred B. Sedgwick (Garland, 1994) and contribued to four of the Grove Dictionaries. This article is revised from an essay to appear in Twentieth-Century Conductors, edited for Greenwood by fellow Sonnecker Gary A. Greene and scheduled to appear in 1999. http://www.american-music.org/publications/bullarchive/Meckna.html ================================ *Note:Support the artist, their families and their legacy by purchasing their music.