Klemperer’s tempi were sometimes erratic; in the twenties they raced, as now they are inclined to mope – in fact the main tension of the Fidelio I heard him do in Zürich in October 1961 was in seeing how slow it is possible to conduct without actually stopping. His musical impulses, at the same time, were often amazingly right. He was the only conductor who knew how to build the measure-and-a-note upbeat in the Allegro of the ‘Clock’ Symphony. Klemperer, that great, gaunt, Polyphemus of a man, was also, and surprisingly, a profoundly droll character, though it was difficult at times to be certain that drollery was intended.