A tiny figure in tails came toddling to the center of the stage at Manhattan's Carnegie Hall, made a nervous little bow, and sat down almost unobserved at a Steinway the size of Florida. "Give me the Cleveland every time," a critic murmured contentedly to his companion. "Never a lapse in taste, never a bar without breeding!" Even as he spoke the Cleveland Symphony rumbled like a drain in difficulty and belched forth a stentorian blat of brass. Whereupon the tiny man, exploding chords like cannoncrackers, hurled himself upon the piano, and...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In