Wilhelm Furtwängler

Gustav Heinrich Ernst Martin Wilhelm Furtwängler (UK: FOORT-veng-glər, US: -⁠lər; German: [ˈvɪlhɛlm ˈfʊɐ̯tvɛŋlɐ] ; 25 January 1886 – 30 November 1954) was a German conductor and composer. He is regarded as one of the greatest symphonic and operatic conductors of the 20th century. He was a major influence for many later conductors, and his name is often mentioned when discussing their interpretative styles.

Furtwängler was principal conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic between 1922 and 1945, and from 1952 until 1954. He was also principal conductor of the Gewandhaus Orchestra (1922–26), and was a guest conductor of other major orchestras including the Vienna Philharmonic.

Although not an adherent of Nazism, he was the foremost conductor to remain in Germany during the Nazi era. Despite his open opposition to antisemitism and the ubiquity of Nazi symbolism, the regime did not seek to suppress him, at Joseph Goebbels' insistence, for propaganda reasons. This situation caused lasting controversy, and the extent to which his presence lent prestige to Nazi Germany is still debated.

Wilhelm Furtwängler was born into a prominent family in Schöneberg, Germany (now a district/borough of Berlin). His father, Adolf Furtwängler, was an archaeologist, and his mother was a painter. Most of his childhood was spent in Munich, where his father taught at the city's Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität München (LMU). He was given a musical education from an early age, and developed a great love for Ludwig van Beethoven, a composer with whose works he remained closely associated throughout his life.

As a boy he sometimes stayed with his grandmother in Mannheim. Through her family he met the Geissmars, a Jewish family who were leading lawyers and amateur musicians in the town. Berta Geissmar later wrote, "Furtwängler became so good at [skiing] as to attain almost professional skill... Almost every sport appealed to him: he loved tennis, sailing and swimming... He was a good horseman..." She also said that he was a strong mountain climber and hiker.

Although Furtwängler achieved fame chiefly from his conducting, he regarded himself foremost as a composer. He began conducting in order to perform his own works. By age of twenty, he had composed several works. However, they were not well received, and that, combined with the financial insecurity of a career as a composer, led him to concentrate on conducting. He made his conducting debut with the Kaim Orchestra (now the Munich Philharmonic) in Anton Bruckner's Ninth Symphony. He subsequently held conducting posts at Munich, Strasbourg, Lübeck, Mannheim, Frankfurt, and Vienna.

Furtwangler succeeded Artur Bodanzky as principal conductor of the Mannheim Opera and Music Academy in 1915, remaining until 1920.

Berta Geissmar subsequently became his secretary and business manager, in Mannheim and later in Berlin, until she was forced to leave Germany in 1935. From 1921 onwards, Furtwängler shared holidays in the Engadin with Berta and her mother. In 1924 he bought a house there. After he married, the house was open to a wide circle of friends.

In 1920 he was appointed conductor of the Staatskapelle Berlin succeeding Richard Strauss. In January 1922, following the sudden death of Arthur Nikisch, he was appointed to the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra. Shortly afterwards he was appointed to the prestigious Berlin Philharmonic, again in succession to Nikisch. Furtwängler made his London debut in 1924, and continued to appear there before the outbreak of World War II as late as 1938, when he conducted Richard Wagner's Ring. (Furtwängler later conducted in London many times between 1948 and 1954). In 1925 he appeared as guest conductor of the New York Philharmonic, making return visits in the following two years.

In January 1945 Furtwängler fled to Switzerland. It was during this period that he completed what is considered his most significant composition, the Symphony No. 2 in E minor. It was given its premiere in 1948 by the Berlin Philharmonic under Furtwängler's direction and was recorded for Deutsche Grammophon.

Furtwängler was very critical of Adolf Hitler's appointment as Chancellor of Germany, at the end of January 1933 and was convinced that Hitler would not stay in power for long. He had said of Hitler in 1932, "This hissing street pedlar will never get anywhere in Germany."

In 1933, Furtwängler met with Hitler to try to stop his new antisemitic policy in the domain of music. He had prepared a list of significant Jewish musicians: these included the composer Arnold Schoenberg, the musicologist Curt Sachs, the violinist Carl Flesch, and Jewish members of the Berlin Philharmonic. Hitler did not listen to Furtwängler, who lost patience, and the meeting became a shouting match. Berta Geissmar wrote, "After the audience, he told me that he knew now what was behind Hitler's narrow-minded measures. This is not only antisemitism, but the rejection of any form of artistic, philosophical thought, the rejection of any form of free culture..."

On 26 April 1933, Furtwängler and the Berlin Philharmonic performed a joint concert in Mannheim with the local orchestra to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Wagner's death and raise funds for the Mannheim orchestra. The concert had been planned long before the Nazis came to power. However, the Nazi-controlled Mannheim Orchestra Committee demanded that Szymon Goldberg, the Jewish leader of the Berlin Philharmonic, step aside for the evening to allow the leader of the Mannheim orchestra to take his place. Furtwängler firmly refused, and the concert proceeded as originally scheduled.

Before the banquet organized for the evening, members of the Mannheim Orchestra Committee confronted Furtwängler, accusing him of "a lack of national sentiment." Furious, Furtwängler left the venue before the banquet and rejoined Berta Geissmar and her mother. His decision to spend the evening with his "Jewish friends" rather than attending the event hosted by the Nazi authorities sparked significant controversy. In protest, Furtwängler refused to conduct in Mannheim again, and it was not until 21 years later, in 1954, that he returned to the city.

In 1934, Furtwängler publicly described Hitler as an "enemy of the human race" and the political situation in Germany as a Schweinerei ("disgrace", literally: "swinishness").

On 25 November 1934, he wrote a letter in the Deutsche Allgemeine Zeitung, "Der Fall Hindemith" ("The Hindemith Case"), in support of the composer Paul Hindemith. Hindemith had been labelled a degenerate artist by the Nazis. Furtwängler also conducted a piece by Hindemith, Mathis der Maler, although the work had been banned by the Nazis. The concert received enormous acclaim and unleashed a political storm. The Nazis (especially Alfred Rosenberg, the Nazi Party's chief racial theorist) formed a violent conspiracy against the conductor, who resigned from his official positions, including as the vice-president of the Reichsmusikkammer and as a member of the Prussian State Council. His resignation from the latter position was refused by Göring. He was also forced by Goebbels to give up all his artistic positions.

Furtwängler decided to leave Germany, but the Nazis prevented him. They seized the opportunity to Aryanise the orchestra and its administrative staff. Most of the Jewish musicians of the orchestra had already left the country and found positions outside Germany, with Furtwängler's assistance.

The main target of the Nazis was Berta Geissmar. She wrote in her book about Furtwängler that she was so close to the conductor that the Nazis had begun an investigation to know if she was his mistress. After being harassed for a period of two years, she moved to London when she became Sir Thomas Beecham's main assistant. In the book she wrote on Furtwängler in England in 1943, she said:

Furtwängler, although he had decided to remain in Germany, was certainly no Nazi.... He had a private telephone line to me which was not connected via the exchange ... Before going to bed, he used to chat with me over telephone. Sometimes I told him amusing stories to cheer him up, sometimes we talked about politics. One of the main threats the Nazis used against Furtwängler and myself later on was the assertion that they had recorded all these conversations. I should not have thought that it was possible! Was there enough shellac? If the Nazis really did this, their ears must certainly have burnt, and it was not surprising that Furtwängler was eventually put on their black list, let alone myself.

On 28 February 1935, Furtwängler met Goebbels, who wanted to keep Furtwängler in Germany, since he considered him, like Richard Strauss and Hans Pfitzner, a "national treasure". Goebbels asked him to pledge allegiance publicly to the new regime. Furtwängler refused. Goebbels then proposed that Furtwängler acknowledge publicly that Hitler was in charge of cultural policy. Furtwängler accepted: Hitler was a dictator and controlled everything in the country. But he added that it must be clear that he wanted nothing to do with the policy and that he would remain as a non-political artist, without any official position. The agreement was reached. Goebbels made an announcement declaring that Furtwängler's letter on Hindemith was not political: Furtwängler had spoken only from an artistic point of view, and it was Hitler who was in charge of the cultural policy in Germany.

Goebbels did not reveal the second part of the deal. However, the agreement between them was largely respected. At his subsequent denazification trial, Furtwängler was charged with conducting only two official concerts for the period 1933–1945. Furtwängler appeared in only two short propaganda films.

Other Nazi leaders were not satisfied with the compromise, since they believed that Furtwängler had not capitulated: Rosenberg demanded in vain that Furtwängler apologise to the regime. Goebbels, who wanted to keep Furtwängler in Germany, wrote in his diary that he was satisfied with the deal and remarked on "the incredible naïvety of artists".

Hitler now allowed him to have a new passport. When they met again in April, Hitler attacked Furtwängler for his support of modern music, and made him withdraw from regular conducting for the time being, save for his scheduled appearance at Bayreuth. However, Hitler confirmed that Furtwängler would not be given any official titles, and would be treated as a private individual. But Hitler refused Furtwängler's request to announce this, saying that it would be harmful for the "prestige of the State".

Furtwängler resumed conducting. On 25 April 1935, he returned to the Berlin Philharmonic with a program dedicated to Beethoven. Many people who had boycotted the orchestra during his absence came to the concert to support him. He was called out seventeen times. On 3 May, in his dressing room before conducting the same program, he was informed that Hitler and his entire staff would attend the concert. He was given the order to welcome Hitler with the Nazi salute. Furtwängler was so furious that he ripped the wooden panelling off a radiator. Franz Jastrau, the manager of the orchestra, suggested that he keep his baton in his right hand all the time. When he entered the hall, all the Nazi leaders were present making the Hitler salute, but Furtwängler kept hold of his baton and began the concert immediately. Hitler probably could not have imagined that such an affront was possible but decided to put up a good show: he sat down and the concert went on.

In September 1935, the baritone Oskar Jölli, a member of the Nazi party, reported to the Gestapo that Furtwängler had said, "Those in power should all be shot, and things in Germany would not change until this was done". Hitler forbade him to conduct for several months, until Furtwängler's fiftieth birthday in January 1936. Hitler and Goebbels allowed him to conduct again and offered him presents: Hitler an annual pension of 40,000 Reichsmarks, and Goebbels an ornate baton made of gold and ivory. Furtwängler refused them.

Furtwängler was offered the principal conductor's post at the New York Philharmonic, which was then the most desirable and best paid position in international musical life. He was to have followed Arturo Toscanini, who had declared that Furtwängler was the only man to succeed him. Furtwängler accepted the post, but his telephone conversations were recorded by the Gestapo.

While Furtwängler was travelling, the Berlin branch of the Associated Press leaked a news story on Hermann Göring's orders. It suggested Furtwängler would probably be reappointed as director of the Berlin State Opera and of the Berlin Philharmonic. This caused the mood in New York to turn against him: it seemed that Furtwängler was now a supporter of the Nazi Party. On reading the American press reaction, Furtwängler chose not to accept the position in New York. Nor did he accept any position at the Berlin Opera.

Furtwängler consistently included Jewish and other non-Aryan musicians in his overseas tours during the 1930s, even as the Nazi regime tightened its grip. This was evident during his performances in France in April 1934, where he conducted Wagner operas. Hans Mayer, a professor of literature and a communist Jew who had fled Germany, reported after the war that Furtwängler had deliberately chosen a cast made up almost entirely of Jews or individuals who had been driven out of Germany for these concerts.

Similarly, during the Universal Exhibition in Paris in 1937, Furtwängler held a series of Wagnerian concerts that were hailed as a triumph. Goebbels proclaimed in the German press that Furtwängler and Wagner had been celebrated in Paris. However, the true source of this acclaim was the German émigré community in Paris, many of whom were Jewish and viewed Furtwängler as a symbol of anti-Nazi resistance.

Furtwängler also took a firm stand against Nazi symbols and practices. He refused to conduct the Nazi anthem, Horst-Wessel-Lied, and insisted that all swastikas be removed from his concert halls. The Nazis eventually realized that Furtwängler was not generating revenue for the regime from his overseas tours. Initially, they believed he was spending the money on himself, but they later discovered that he was giving all the proceeds to support German emigrants. After the war, it was confirmed that Furtwängler had donated "to the last penny" to help those in need when he met them.

Despite the regime's expectations, Furtwängler consistently refused to perform the Nazi salute or conduct the Nazi anthem. When the Berlin Philharmonic performed abroad during 1935–1939, Furtwängler was often replaced by the steward Hans von Benda at the start of the concert to perform the Nazi anthem. Furtwängler would only enter the room afterward, a silent but powerful statement of his defiance.

In 1936, Furtwängler returned to the Bayreuth Festival for the first time since 1931, despite his strained relationship with Winifred Wagner. That year, he conducted a new staging of Lohengrin, the first performance of this work at the festival since 1909. Hitler ensured that no expense was spared for the production, with costume and set designs on a scale larger and more extravagant than anything previously seen at Bayreuth. The performance was broadcast across Europe and the Americas, serving as a key element of a propaganda campaign designed to portray the 'New Germany' as the rightful heir to the German musical tradition—a narrative in which Furtwängler's presence at the podium played a central role. Both Hitler and Goebbels attended the festival and made efforts to pressure Furtwängler into accepting an official position within the Nazi regime. Friedelind Wagner, the composer's anti-Nazi granddaughter, witnessed a meeting between Hitler and Furtwängler at her mother's Bayreuth home:

The Nazi leaders searched for another conductor to counterbalance Furtwängler. A young, gifted Austrian conductor now appeared in Nazi Germany: Herbert von Karajan. Karajan had been a member of the Nazi Party since 1935, and was much more willing to participate in the propaganda of the new regime than Furtwängler.

Furtwängler had attended several of Karajan's concerts, praising his technical abilities but criticizing his conducting style. At the time, Furtwängler did not view Karajan as a serious competitor. However, this perception changed when Karajan conducted Fidelio and Tristan und Isolde in Berlin in late 1938. Göring, recognizing an opportunity, decided to take the initiative.

The music critic Edwin von der Nüll, with Göring's support, wrote a review of these concerts in the Berliner Zeitung am Mittag titled "The Karajan Miracle" ("Das Wunder Karajan"), a deliberate reference to the famous article "The Furtwängler Miracle" that had catapulted Furtwängler to fame as a young conductor in Mannheim. Von der Nüll enthusiastically championed Karajan, declaring, "A thirty-year-old man creates a performance for which our great fifty-year-olds can justifiably envy him." To drive the comparison home, Furtwängler's photograph was printed alongside the article, making the reference unmistakable.

The article was part of a broader campaign targeting Furtwängler. The Nazi press denounced him as "a man of the nineteenth century" with outdated political ideas, accusing him of failing to understand and accept the "new order" in Germany. The relentless criticism became unbearable for Furtwängler. To address the situation, he obtained a pledge from Goebbels to put an end to the attacks.

However, the episode significantly weakened Furtwängler's position. He realized that if he were to leave Germany, Karajan would immediately be appointed conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic. This realization marked the beginning of an intense and enduring hatred and contempt for Karajan, which persisted until Furtwängler's death. He often refused to refer to Karajan by name, instead calling him simply "Herr K."

Furtwängler was deeply affected by the events of Kristallnacht. Berta Geissmar, who encountered him in Paris, described him as "greatly depressed." Friedelind Wagner, who also saw him in Paris, wrote that he appeared to be "a very unhappy man." Andrew Schulhof, who met him in Budapest, recalled that Furtwängler "had the impression that what he had done before for his Jewish friends had been lost."

Furtwängler initially approved of the Anschluss, which occurred on 12 March 1938. However, he quickly opposed the Nazi leaders' decision to "annex Austrian culture," which involved abolishing independent cultural activity in Austria and subordinating it to Berlin. Shortly after the Anschluss, Furtwängler discovered that a massive Swastika flag had been displayed in the hall of the Musikverein. Outraged, he refused to conduct the Vienna Philharmonic, declaring, "as long as the rag is visible." His stance eventually led to the flag being removed.

Goebbels sought to dismantle the Vienna Philharmonic and transform the Vienna Opera and the Salzburg Festival into subsidiaries of the Berlin Opera and the Bayreuth Festival, respectively. Additionally, he aimed to confiscate the world's largest musical collection, housed by the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna, and relocate it to Berlin. Hitler's ultimate goal was to erase the notion that Austria had developed its own distinct cultural identity, separate from Germany. In response, Austrian musical circles turned to Furtwängler, who served as the honorary president of the Vienna Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, urging him to help protect their heritage.

Furtwängler actively campaigned to convince Nazi leaders to abandon their plans to dismantle Austrian cultural institutions. According to historian Fred K. Prieberg, he conducted concerts—often with the Vienna Philharmonic—in the presence of German leaders during this period, using his performances as leverage to secure the conservation of the orchestra. He also organized several concerts featuring Austrian music in both Berlin and Vienna specifically for Hitler, aiming to highlight and preserve Austrian cultural identity.

The Nazi leadership, seeking to exploit this situation, invited Furtwängler in 1938 to conduct Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg with the Vienna Philharmonic in Nürnberg as part of the Nazi Party Congress. Furtwängler agreed on the condition that the performance would not take place during the congress itself. Hitler ultimately accepted Furtwängler's terms: the concert was held on 5 September, with the political event formally opening the following morning.

During the war, Furtwängler tried to avoid conducting in occupied Europe. He said: "I will never play in a country such as France, which I am so much attached to, considering myself a 'vanquisher'. I will conduct there again only when the country has been liberated". He refused to go to France during its occupation, although the Nazis tried to force him to conduct there. Since he had said that he would conduct there only at the invitation of the French, Goebbels forced the French conductor Charles Munch to send him a personal invitation. But Munch wrote in small characters at the bottom of his letter "in agreement with the German occupation authorities." Furtwängler declined the invitation.

Furtwängler did conduct in Prague in November 1940 and March 1944. The 1940 program, chosen by Furtwängler, included Smetana's Moldau. According to Prieberg, "This piece is part of the cycle in which the Czech master celebrated Má vlast (My Country), and ... was intended to support his compatriots' fight for the independence from Austrian domination ... When Furtwängler began with the 'Moldau' it was not a deliberate risk, but a statement of his stance towards the oppressed Czechs". The 1944 concert marked the fifth anniversary of the German occupation and was the result of a deal between Furtwängler and Goebbels: Furtwängler did not want to perform in April for Hitler's birthday in Berlin. He said to Goebbels in March (as he had in April 1943) that he was sick. Goebbels asked him to perform in Prague instead, where he conducted the Symphony No. 9 of Antonín Dvořák. He conducted in Oslo in 1943, where he helped the Jewish conductor Issay Dobrowen to flee to Sweden.

In April 1942, Furtwängler conducted Beethoven's Ninth Symphony with the Berlin Philharmonic as part of Hitler's birthday celebrations. At least the final minutes of the performance were filmed and can still be viewed on YouTube. At the conclusion of the concert, Joseph Goebbels approached the stage to shake Furtwängler's hand. This event led to significant criticism of Furtwängler after the war.

In fact, Furtwängler had planned to conduct several concerts in Vienna during this period to avoid participating in Hitler's birthday festivities. However, following the German army's defeat during the Battle of Moscow, Goebbels decided to deliver a lengthy speech on the eve of Hitler's birthday to rally the German nation. The speech was to be followed by a performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, which Goebbels wanted Furtwängler to conduct to lend a transcendent dimension to the event. Shortly before the performance, Goebbels called Furtwängler and urged him to agree to conduct, but Furtwängler refused, citing a lack of time to rehearse and his prior commitments to perform in Vienna.

Enraged, Goebbels used threats and intimidation to force the organizers in Vienna to cancel the concerts, with some even being physically assaulted by the Nazis. Furtwängler was then ordered to return to Berlin to conduct the symphony. Determined to prevent such situations in the future, Furtwängler began providing false medical certificates in advance during 1943 and 1944 to ensure he would not be compelled to participate in similar events.

In February 1946, Furtwängler met Curt Riess, a German Jew who had fled Germany in 1933, in Vienna. Riess, a musician, writer, and journalist, later authored a book about Furtwängler. At the time, Riess was working as a correspondent for American newspapers in Switzerland. Initially, he viewed Furtwängler as a Nazi collaborator and opposed his conducting in Switzerland in 1945. However, when Furtwängler requested a meeting, Riess thoroughly examined the documents related to Furtwängler's case. This led to a complete change of heart: Riess realized that Furtwängler had never been a Nazi and had, in fact, helped many people of Jewish origin. Riess subsequently became Furtwängler's "denazification advisor" and devoted the next two years to securing his exoneration. As Roger Smithson concludes in his article 'Furtwängler's Silent Years (1945–1947)': "Ultimately Furtwängler's return to conducting was very largely the result of skill and stubbornness of Curt Riess. Furtwängler's admirers owe him a great debt."

Furtwängler initially suggested that Riess write articles about him based on the extensive documentation he had provided, leveraging Riess's background as a journalist. However, Riess preferred to take a more direct approach and met with General Robert A. McClure, who was responsible for Furtwängler's case. After reviewing the documents, which had been translated into English, and meeting with Riess, General McClure concluded that no serious charges could be brought against Furtwängler. He acknowledged that the conductor had been the subject of a mistake and described him as 'a very good man.' McClure requested that Riess advise Furtwängler not to speak to the press, as it might create the impression that pressure was being exerted on the Allied forces. He assured Riess that the case would be resolved within weeks. Although Riess sent a telegram to Furtwängler conveying this message, it arrived too late, having been delayed en route.

In the meantime, Furtwängler made a serious misstep by traveling to Berlin, which was under Soviet occupation at the time. The Soviets welcomed him as a Head of State, as they sought to recruit the man described by Arsenyi Gouliga, the Soviet representative at Furtwängler's trial, as the "greatest conductor in the world" to lead a grand cultural initiative in Berlin. Specifically, they offered him the position of director of the Berlin State Opera, located in the Soviet zone. This development forced General Robert A. McClure to subject Furtwängler to the standard denazification process. McClure explained to Curt Riess, via telephone, that bypassing the procedure would create the impression that the Americans were conceding to the Soviets on Furtwängler's case. Although the American authorities were confident that the conductor would be cleared by the denazification court, the Soviet authorities dismissed the trial as "ridiculous" and meaningless. Against this backdrop of Cold War tensions, Furtwängler, who was determined to reclaim leadership of the Berlin Philharmonic in the British occupation zone, was compelled to undergo the denazification process.

Furtwängler was thus required to undergo the denazification process. The charges against him were relatively minor. He was accused of conducting two official Nazi concerts during the period 1933–1945. Furtwängler countered by stating that these two concerts, which he claimed were "extorted" from him, had allowed him to avoid conducting sixty others. The first concert took place on 3 February 1938 for the Hitler Youth. It was presented to Furtwängler as an opportunity to introduce younger generations to classical music. However, as Fred Prieberg recounts: "When he looked at the audience, he realized that this was more than just a concert for schoolchildren in uniform; a whole collection of prominent political figures were sitting there as well... and it was the last time he raised his baton for this purpose."

The second concert was the performance of Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg with the Vienna Philharmonic on 5 September 1938, on the evening before the Nazi congress in Nüremberg. Furtwängler had agreed to conduct this concert to help preserve the Vienna Philharmonic, and at his insistence the concert was not part of the congress.

Furtwängler possessed a unique and deeply personal philosophy of music. He viewed symphonic works as creations of nature, which could only be realized subjectively through sound. Neville Cardus, writing in the Manchester Guardian in 1954, eloquently described Furtwängler’s conducting style: "He did not regard the printed notes of the score as a final statement, but rather as so many symbols of an imaginative conception, ever changing and always to be felt and realized subjectively..." Similarly, conductor Henry Lewis remarked: "I admire Furtwängler for his originality and honesty. He liberated himself from the slavery of the score; he understood that the notes printed on the page are nothing but SYMBOLS. The score is neither the essence nor the spirit of the music. Furtwängler had the rare and extraordinary gift of transcending the written notes to reveal the true essence of music."

Many commentators and critics regard him as the greatest conductor in history. Musicologist Walter Frisch, in his book on the symphonies of Johannes Brahms, describes Furtwängler as "the finest Brahms conductor of his generation, perhaps of all time." Frisch highlights Furtwängler’s recordings as demonstrating "at once a greater attention to detail and to Brahms' markings than his contemporaries, and at the same time a larger sense of rhythmic-temporal flow that is never deflected by individual nuances." He praises Furtwängler’s ability "not only to respect, but to make musical sense of, dynamic markings and the indications of crescendo and diminuendo."

Frisch concludes that Furtwängler possessed "the rare combination of a conductor who understands both sound and structure." He notes Vladimir Ashkenazy who says that his sound "is never rough. It's very weighty but at the same time is never heavy. In his fortissimo you always feel every voice.... I have never heard so beautiful a fortissimo in an orchestra", and Daniel Barenboim says he "had a subtlety of tone color that was extremely rare. His sound was always 'rounded,' and incomparably more interesting than that of the great German conductors of his generation."

On the other hand, the critic David Hurwitz sharply criticizes what he terms "the Furtwängler wackos" who "will forgive him virtually any lapse, no matter how severe", and characterizes the conductor himself as "occasionally incandescent but criminally sloppy". Unlike conductors such as Carlos Kleiber or Sergiu Celibidache, Furtwängler did not try to reach the perfection in details, and the number of rehearsals with him was small. He said:

I am told that the more you rehearse, the better you play. This is wrong. We often try to reduce the unforeseen to a controllable level, to prevent a sudden impulse that escapes our ability to control, yet also responds to an obscure desire. Let's allow improvisation to have its place and play its role. I think that the true interpreter is the one who improvises. We have mechanized the art of conducting to an awful degree, in the quest of perfection rather than of dream.

One of Furtwängler's early protégés was the piano prodigy Karlrobert Kreiten, who was killed by the Nazis in 1943 because he had criticized Hitler. Furtwängler was an important influence on the Argentine-born pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim, who decided to become a conductor when he was eight years old during a concert performance of J.S. Bach's St Matthew Passion conducted by Furtwängler in Buenos Aires in 1950. (Furtwängler's widow, Elisabeth, later said of Barenboim's conducting, "Er furtwänglert" ("He furtwänglers"). Barenboim recorded Furtwängler's 2nd Symphony with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

Other conductors known to speak admiringly of Furtwängler include Valery Gergiev, Claudio Abbado, Carlos Kleiber, Carlo Maria Giulini, Simon Rattle, Sergiu Celibidache, Otto Klemperer, Karl Böhm, Bruno Walter, Dimitri Mitropoulos, Christoph Eschenbach, Alexander Frey, Philippe Herreweghe, Eugen Jochum, Zubin Mehta, Ernest Ansermet, Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Bernard Haitink (who decided to become a conductor as a child and bedridden while listening to a Furtwängler concert on the radio

during the second world war), Rafael Kubelík, Gustavo Dudamel, Jascha Horenstein (who had worked as an assistant to Furtwängler in Berlin during the 1920s), Kurt Masur and Christian Thielemann.

For instance, Carlos Kleiber thought that "nobody could equal Furtwängler". More precisely, he said once: "You know, he’s simply the best. There’s no one like him… It’s hopeless. Kleiber was once asked why de didn't conduct Beethoven's ninth symphony. His reported reply was something to the effect of: "It's all been said already... by him [Furtwängler]". Similar remarks by Kleiber can be found about Bruckner's 8th, Bruckner's 4th, etc.

George Szell, whose precise musicianship was in many ways antithetical to Furtwängler's, always kept a picture of Furtwängler in his dressing room. Even Arturo Toscanini, usually regarded as Furtwängler's complete antithesis (and sharply critical of Furtwängler on political grounds), once said – when asked to name the World's greatest conductor apart from himself – "Furtwängler!". Herbert von Karajan, who in his early years was Furtwängler's rival, maintained throughout his life that Furtwängler was one of the great influences on his music making, even though his cool, objective, modern style had little in common with Furtwängler's white-hot Romanticism. Karajan said:

There are a huge number of Furtwängler recordings currently available, mostly live. Many of these were made during World War II using experimental tape technology. After the war they were confiscated by the Soviet Union for decades, and have only recently become widely available, often on multiple labels. In spite of their limitations, the recordings from this era are widely admired by Furtwängler devotees.

The following represents only a small selection of some of Furtwängler's most famed recordings.

Johann Sebastian Bach, St Matthew Passion (first half only), live performance with the Vienna Philharmonic, 1952 (Südwestfunk)

Bartók, Violin Concerto No. 2, studio recording with Yehudi Menuhin and with the Philharmonia Orchestra, 1953 (EMI)

Beethoven, Third Symphony, live performance with the Vienna Philharmonic, December 1944 (Music and Arts, Preiser, Tahra)

Bartók, First Piano Concerto, the composer as soloist, Theater Orchestra, Frankfurt, 1 July 1927

Schoenberg, Variations for Orchestra, Op. 31, Berlin Philharmonic, Berlin, 2 December 1928

Prokofiev: Piano Concerto No. 5, the composer as soloist, Berlin Philharmonic, 31 October 1932

Hindemith, Symphony: Mathis der Maler, Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, Berlin, 11 March 1934

Richard Strauss, Four Last Songs, Kirsten Flagstad as soloist, Philharmonia Orchestra, London, 22 May 1950