I have always adored the music of the Strausses, father and sons, of Vienna. I recall a 1929 production of Die Fledermaus by Max Reinhardt in Berlin which left me walking on air for three days afterward. Like Kreisler’s, the lilting memories of the Strausses had ideal shapes in my mind; I knew exactly how I wanted to hear them played, with a zest that whirled people off their feet.