THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 20672, 20 December 1930, Page 26

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[Written by “ L.D.A.,” for th« ‘ Evening Star.’]

“ Music gives tone to tbe universe, wings to the wind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything.”—Plato.

Good and faithful service in the cause of music received its just recognition at the recent testimonial concert to Mr James Coombs, tho performing artists being almost entirely representative of Dunedin’s musical community. Mr Coombs has had a long and interesting career. It must always bo a wrench when a public performer of long standing has to sever his artistic connection, but a conductor has this great advantage oyer singers and instrumentalists —ho is invariably in full possession of his faculties up to the \*ery last, whereas history records many instances of performing artists who prolonged their careers beyond the limits of musical decency. There are lew things more pathetic to listep to than the efforts of musicians Jong past their prime and with one foot palpably in achievement’s grave But Mr Coombs has retired with his powers unimpaired and his honours thick upon him.

Among prominent musicians of the past associated with Mr Coombs was Colonel Lean, of Christchurch, who was entitled to much credit if only because he was one of the few conductors with a punctilious regard for musical etiquette, and he had the courage of ms convictions. Mr Coombs tells us that the colonel issued strict instructions for the locking ot all doors and the barring of exits during the actual performance of programme items—absolutely correct procedure, but how often do we find it enforced in our concert halls to-day P 1 remember one prominent picture theatre in Wellington, in which the music was regarded seriously, and the manager of which made it a rule for tho doors to be closed during the overture. There was considerable outcry at first, tho patrons of tho cle luxe seats voicing their protests in no uncertain manner against being compelled to hang about in tho corridors to the accompaniment of distant strains from the orchestra j but the manager knew his job, and was adamant to ail complaints. ‘‘That’ll learn ’em,” he said—and it did. After a week or two the audiences accepted the ultimatum meekly, and were in their seats promptly at tho appointed time. The thing can bo done, unundoubtedly;. it requires merely firmness and decision. **■ * * A recent amusing article in the ‘Star’ informed us that history records the exploits of another musical autocrat—no less a personage than Nero. According to Mr Arthur Wcigall, Nero was a prominent vocalist in- his day, and this lends colour -to the legend concerning the Homan Emperor’s musical . activity during the conflagration which destroyed his city. It has, of course, long been known that Nero could not have fiddled whilst Rome burned, for tho simple reason that fiddles had no existence among musical instruments of the Homans—in fact, they were not invented until some thousand years later. We are told that Nero’s methods of musical training were “ nothing . short of heroic”- —in proof of which follows the statement that the imperial singer’s preparatory diet included “ quantities of onions.” Mr Weigall is, however, not quite explicit. as to the due appointment of the said heroism; in view of Nero’s lung capacity aud probable breath mileage 1 should feel inclined to wager upon the olefactory sensibilities of his listeners in the ratio of (10-40. “The doors were dosed when he sang, and were not opened again until he had finished.” In view of the onion diet this seems to me tho refinement of cruelty.

It is just fifty years since the Gilbert and Sullivan association began its career of fame. In 18S0 was produced ‘ Tho Pirates of Penzance,’ which, though the fifth of tho joint efforts, was really the first to achieve lasting popularity. Afte 1 ’ that came ‘Patience,’ ‘lolanthe,’ ‘Princess Ida, ■ The Mikado,’ ‘ Ruddigore,’ ‘ Yeomen of the Guard,’ ‘The Gondoliers, in tiiat order, of which 4 The Mikado and ‘ Tho Gondoliers ’ were easily the most successful. Sullivan’s .preeminence in this form of composition has almost obscured the fact that he was really a serious musician who achieved distinction in the more academical paths of composition. Tho first holder of the Mendelssohn scholarship at the Royal Academy of Music, where he studied under Sterndale Bennett, ho, began to compose when only thirteen years old, and Novello then published' an anthem by him called ‘ 0 Israel.’ * « * * Later Sullivan proceeded to Leipzig, where he remained for three years absorbing all he could learn of German taste, tradition, and thoroughness of method, and when he returned to London he was fully equipped technically for any demands which his adopted profession of music might make upon him. Success was not long in coming, for when only twenty his setting of Shakespeare’s ‘Tempest’ was played by several leading orchestras. Not long afterwards came his ‘ Irish Symphony,’ produced at tho Crystal Palace under August Manns, and his beautiful ‘ In Meraoriam ’ overture —in remembrance of his father —a work which fully established him in tho ranks of recognised composers. Sullivan possessed a remarkable power of speed in writing music, somewhat akin to that of Handel; the score ot ‘Cox and Box,’, his first operetta, was entirely conceived and completed in a fortnight, a tour do force of which few composers have been capable. Sullivan’s other serious musio comprised several oratorios, overtures, concertos, chamber music, hymns, and, of course the ‘ Lost Chord.’

I have scon it stated in print on several occasions that Sullivan hawked his famous song about London for months in a vaim endeavour to find a publisher ■willing to accept it. This is a ludicrous story seeing that at the time the ' Lost Chord’ was composed Sullivan was already eminent in his profession, and music publishers almost vied with each other to secure his output. The song had its genesis in the death of the composer’s elder brother, Frederick Sullivan, to whom he was greatly attached, and who was himself a gifted organist. Besides being one of the most popular songs over written, the ‘ Lost Chord ’ has ever proved a boon to cornet and euphonium soloists, for whose benefit probably no other composition is so peculiarly adapted. question it is a specimen of that kimd of music which is universal and perennial in its appeal, and when well performed there is ever a thrill in it that llio'niost class-conscious listener cannot deny. Even to-day the royalties upon this celebrated song bring in a goodly sum to the composer’s descendants.

A week or two ago T made a little slip when alluding to the 11.M.V. record of the * Blue Danube pinftioiort© transcription. The soloist in this astonishing record is Joseph Lhoyinno, not Harold Bauer. Unwittingly i paid the latter an undeserved compliment in classing him among the ‘ world s greatest.” Just recently I listened to his reproduction of Beethoven’s Appassionato,’ and was by no means impressed by the performance. It is extraordinary how badly some really excellent pianists contrive to play sometimes. For instance, compare the record mentioned with Bauer’s rendering of Liszt’s * D Flat Study,’ and one cannot believe it is the same performer. Truly, the human cosmos is a strange tiling. Why a musician should be.alive to the beauties of one composer s music and quite blind—or deaf—to the equally obvious charm of auotlier’s, 13 one of those matters “no iclla can understand.”