I read once of a lady who was playing a duet whan she started to faint. The pianist junped up, grabbed her Strad, and let her fall.
I was at a concert of the Chicago Symphony (on tour, in 1971). Solti at the podium and the young (and destined to die far too soon) Michael Rabin was on the program with the Tchaikovsky violin concerto.
The first piece was Bruckner’s 7th. Near put me to sleep—maybe I wasn’t ready for Bruckner at that point. Anyway, the violinist on the front row to the conductor’s right had a string break. She immediately handed it over her shoulder to the violinist behind her, and took that performer’s instrument. It was almost as if they had drilled the exchange in the past. Then it was up to the second-row violinist to restring the instrument and get back in action before the end of the movement.
Here’s another anecdote about string instruments in danger.
In 1987, Solti and the Chicago embarked on a U.S. tour that turned out to be the “tour from Hell.”
Their instruments arrived late to a concert in SanFran, so in the meantime Maestro Solti improvised a little Mozart recital at the piano.
Then they were on their way to Austin for the next concert, where we had tickets. On the afternoon of the concert, the semi got blown over by a west Texas wind, and an emergency semi had to be dispatched to retrieve the instruments.
We found this out that evening at concert time, when CSO manager Henry Vogel stepped onto the stage and announced that there would be delay for the reasons mentioned above. My friend and I stayed around of course, hoping that the concert could still go on before the night was through.
After an hour or so, we wandered out of the hall and back around to the loading dock. Some of the musicians were there too. Evidently they had word that the substitute truck and driver were soon to arrive. The owners of the larger instruments (such as the double basses) were understandably worried sick about possible damage to their instruments. Members of the U.T. faculty and of the Austin S.O. had rushed to the hall, ready to lend their instruments to any CSO member whose own was damaged in the crash. This turned out to be necessary for several of the players.
Finally, the truck arrived. It took an agonizing 15 minutes for the semi driver to maneuver his trailer to the dock, due to its really dumb layout. The driver was 50-something, with an open silk shirt and bling that made it look like he’d been called away from a disco.
I stood next to this tall somwhat elderly gentleman with wavy, thinning blond hair as we watched the instruments being unloaded. He remarked, “I’m glad I can take my instrument with me on the plane.” His instrument, as it turns out, was the trumpet; and his name was Adolph Herseth, principal trumpet of the CSO since 1948.
Anyway, about an hour later, Mr Herseth played the beginning notes of the signature piece of the CSO: Mahler’s 5th Symphony. After all the tension and confusion, the performance blasted right through you.