This Week in Classical Music: January 26, 2026. Furtwängler, Part II. Last week, we wrote about Wilhelm Furtwängler, a great German conductor of the first half of the 20th century. We’ll continue here. As we mentioned, by 1933, when the Nazis came to power, Furtwängler was acknowledged as the leading German conductor, even though his competition was incredibly strong: Otto Klemperer, Bruno Walter, Hans Knappertsbusch, Erich Kleiber, Karl Böhm, George Szell, Eugen Jochum, and, eventually, Herbert von Karajan. And then there was Richard Strauss, acknowledged as the greatest German composer of the era; he was also a conductor, but belonged to a different category.
Klemperer, Szell, and Walter were Jewish. Klemperer emigrated to the US early in 1933; Szell also left Germany in 1933: he worked in Europe till 1939, and as the war broke out, he moved to the US. Walter, the oldest in the group, Mahler’s assistant and friend, was banned from Germany, worked in Austria till the Anschluss, and then also moved to the US. Of those who stayed in Germany, two were supporters of the Nazi regime, and one was a member of the Nazi party. The supporters were Knappertsbusch and Böhm, who started every concert with a Hitler salute; the Nazi party member was Karajan (he joined the party not once but twice, but that’s for another entry).
Furtwängler was different. Coming from an upper-middle-class family, he was a nationalist, a firm believer in the superiority of German culture, especially German music, and, rather likely, as many of his class, a casual antisemite. But he despised Hitler, in his eyes an uncultured upstart, “hissing street peddler,” as he called him, in private, of course. And he abhorred the antisemitic policies of the Nazi regime. These policies affected him directly, as many musicians of “his” Berlin Philharmonic were Jewish.
The attitudes and cultural policies of the Nazi leaders were far from uniform. Many of the regime leaders, including Hitler himself, loved music, thought it important, and, regarding key figures, often made personnel decisions themselves. At the same time, heads of different fiefs had their own favorites. Goebbels, as the Reich Minister of Propaganda, was a key person in setting cultural policies, while Alfred Rosenberg, who led the Militant League for German Culture and was probably the most virulent antisemite of them all, vied for the same role and, for a while, was very influential. Both had their own favorites. Other key leaders were also involved: Hermann Göring, in his role as Prime Minister of Prussia, was in charge of the Berlin State Opera, as Berlin was the capital of Prussia, while Goebbels had to settle for the Deutsche Oper, a far less prestigious theater. Hitler himself was enamored with the music of Richard Wagner, and his favorite cultural institution was the Bayreuth Festival, where the theater, the Festspielhaus, was designed by Wagner himself, and where his operas were staged.
In this rather chaotic environment, if one was top in his field (whether a composer, an artist, or a poet) and was a supporter of the regime, he (and sometimes she, as was the case with pianist Elly Ney) was pretty much guaranteed backing and assistance from the state. There were exceptions: Hans Knappertsbusch, an ultra-nationalist, was personally disliked by Hitler, and his career went nowhere. If one was exceptionally good but not an active supporter of the regime, one could still have a big career, especially if the artist was favored by a leader; Furtwängler is a prime example. An ardent but talentless Nazi wouldn’t get any support. And being Jewish made it hell.
Furtwängler occupied a very unique position: both Hitler and Goebbels valued him, even though they knew that he wasn’t a follower, and acknowledged him as the greatest German conductor. Furtwängler was in charge of Germany’s most important musical institution, the Berlin Philharmonic, and, as the Nazi leaders saw it, bestowed prestige on their regime.
We’ll finish our take on Furtwängler next week; in the meantime, here’s Bruckner’s Symphony No. 4 in E-flat major, "Romantic." In this live 1951 recording, Wilhelm Furtwängler conducts the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.
Wilhelm Furtwängler, Part II, 2026
This Week in Classical Music: January 26, 2026. Furtwängler, Part II. Last week, we wrote about Wilhelm Furtwängler, a great German conductor of the first half of the 20th century. We’ll
continue here. As we mentioned, by 1933, when the Nazis came to power, Furtwängler was acknowledged as the leading German conductor, even though his competition was incredibly strong: Otto Klemperer, Bruno Walter, Hans Knappertsbusch, Erich Kleiber, Karl Böhm, George Szell, Eugen Jochum, and, eventually, Herbert von Karajan. And then there was Richard Strauss, acknowledged as the greatest German composer of the era; he was also a conductor, but belonged to a different category.
Klemperer, Szell, and Walter were Jewish. Klemperer emigrated to the US early in 1933; Szell also left Germany in 1933: he worked in Europe till 1939, and as the war broke out, he moved to the US. Walter, the oldest in the group, Mahler’s assistant and friend, was banned from Germany, worked in Austria till the Anschluss, and then also moved to the US. Of those who stayed in Germany, two were supporters of the Nazi regime, and one was a member of the Nazi party. The supporters were Knappertsbusch and Böhm, who started every concert with a Hitler salute; the Nazi party member was Karajan (he joined the party not once but twice, but that’s for another entry).
Furtwängler was different. Coming from an upper-middle-class family, he was a nationalist, a firm believer in the superiority of German culture, especially German music, and, rather likely, as many of his class, a casual antisemite. But he despised Hitler, in his eyes an uncultured upstart, “hissing street peddler,” as he called him, in private, of course. And he abhorred the antisemitic policies of the Nazi regime. These policies affected him directly, as many musicians of “his” Berlin Philharmonic were Jewish.
The attitudes and cultural policies of the Nazi leaders were far from uniform. Many of the regime leaders, including Hitler himself, loved music, thought it important, and, regarding key figures, often made personnel decisions themselves. At the same time, heads of different fiefs had their own favorites. Goebbels, as the Reich Minister of Propaganda, was a key person in setting cultural policies, while Alfred Rosenberg, who led the Militant League for German Culture and was probably the most virulent antisemite of them all, vied for the same role and, for a while, was very influential. Both had their own favorites. Other key leaders were also involved: Hermann Göring, in his role as Prime Minister of Prussia, was in charge of the Berlin State Opera, as Berlin was the capital of Prussia, while Goebbels had to settle for the Deutsche Oper, a far less prestigious theater. Hitler himself was enamored with the music of Richard Wagner, and his favorite cultural institution was the Bayreuth Festival, where the theater, the Festspielhaus, was designed by Wagner himself, and where his operas were staged.
In this rather chaotic environment, if one was top in his field (whether a composer, an artist, or a poet) and was a supporter of the regime, he (and sometimes she, as was the case with pianist Elly Ney) was pretty much guaranteed backing and assistance from the state. There were exceptions: Hans Knappertsbusch, an ultra-nationalist, was personally disliked by Hitler, and his career went nowhere. If one was exceptionally good but not an active supporter of the regime, one could still have a big career, especially if the artist was favored by a leader; Furtwängler is a prime example. An ardent but talentless Nazi wouldn’t get any support. And being Jewish made it hell.
Furtwängler occupied a very unique position: both Hitler and Goebbels valued him, even though they knew that he wasn’t a follower, and acknowledged him as the greatest German conductor. Furtwängler was in charge of Germany’s most important musical institution, the Berlin Philharmonic, and, as the Nazi leaders saw it, bestowed prestige on their regime.
We’ll finish our take on Furtwängler next week; in the meantime, here’s Bruckner’s Symphony No. 4 in E-flat major, "Romantic." In this live 1951 recording, Wilhelm Furtwängler conducts the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.