Conducting, one might well think, is fundamentally a sado-mascochistic ritual involving either virile young male turks whipping orchestras into frenzies with tapering batons of birch and maple, or sage old men waving their penis substitutes in front of a bunch of instrument-playing stiffs in irksome collars, before jetting to the other side of the world to do exactly the same thing in another cultural capital.
The Guardian, Where are all the women conductors? June 2, 2005
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