Karajan leaves me stunned, again

Just last night I watched the documentary Karajan: The Second Life  on the Berlin Philharmonic's Digital Concert Hall. The film focuses on Karajan's recording life, detailing his habits in the recording studio. I found it fascinating and painful all at once. The incredible greatness and intensity of the man is irresistible, yet he's forever gone and no one since has come close to showing his towering genius.

Thank goodness we have so many recordings, though. His commitment to the highest quality in the studio has enabled his mastery to outlive him. Imagining the discography without him is impossible. He will always have his critics—no genius doesn't—but the overwhelming power and control that he showed at the Berlin Philharmonic is a phenomena we dare not hope to see again.

What was his secret? Perhaps that he applied himself with complete concentration to anything he tried to accomplish? Karajan was never indecisive, and he strove to achieve the highest musical perfection with a kind of chilling fervor. It's no wonder musicians played with such distinction for him.

I'm more optimistic than some of my colleagues about the state of today's musical talent, but all the same, as I watched the closing minutes of the film, I had to fight the tears. No one else has come close.