In 1886, an orchestra in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, was preparing for an opera performance. During a rehearsal, however, the conductor clashed with the musicians and withdrew from the production. When the performance began, the assistant conductor took the podium, but the orchestra faltered, drawing boos from the audience. Eventually, the performance had to be halted.
Desperate to salvage the performance, the organizers asked whether anyone in the orchestra could conduct. The musicians pointed to one of their own—a nineteen-year-old cellist. His eyesight was so poor that he could barely read the music on his stand, so he had developed the habit of memorizing scores before performing. He knew not only his own part but the entire score by heart. Suddenly handed the baton, he conducted entirely from memory and successfully led the orchestra through the performance, which lasted more than two hours. That unexpected debut set him on the path to a career as a conductor. The young cellist was Arturo Toscanini, who went on to become one of the most celebrated conductors of the twentieth century.
If Toscanini had not had poor eyesight—and therefore had not needed to memorize the music—that day might never have become a turning point in his life. The effort he had made to compensate for that limitation had prepared him, and when opportunity came, it found him ready.
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