Bülow Rehearses the Rests

Watching a great conductor drill an orchestra can be thrilling—especially when the leader is an exacting taskmaster. Add a thousand quirks and a fiery temper, and the rehearsal becomes a show in itself. Hans von Bülow was exactly that kind of conductor, and despite his eccentricities he was among the finest orchestral leaders of his time.

Musicians were eager to watch him work, but Bülow disliked spectators and usually found a way to get rid of them. Once, a few ladies managed to slip into the hall for an orchestral rehearsal. They settled in, expecting a treat—both musically and theatrically.

Bülow arrived, noticed them at once, and turned to the orchestra with perfect seriousness: “We will rehearse the bassoon parts first.” The bassoons, however, had nothing to play for the first thirty‑two measures—so Bülow gravely beat time through thirty‑two full bars of silence. The bassoons played a few notes, and then came sixty‑four more measures of rests. Bülow continued conducting the emptiness, unwavering.

Before the end of this long stretch of quiet—more silence than music—the audience had had enough and quietly fled. Only then did the whimsical conductor stop rehearsing rests and set the orchestra to real work. After word spread, Bülow was rarely disturbed by self‑invited spectators again.