THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 21318, 24 January 1933, Page 3

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

" Music gives lone to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything.”—Plato. Mr Compton Mackenzie, who has recently figured very prominently in the cable news by reason of the charge brought against him of revealing official secrets, is a remarkable personality. Everybody knows, of course, his reputation as a novelist; but he has'innumerable other activities concerning which we hear little, though most musical folk arc aware that he is also an enthusiastic music lover. Mr Mackenzie has, 1 believe, always disclaimed any deep technical knowledge of tho ait, and I am unable to say whether he can play any instrument —though the probability is that he can, being so versatile a person. However, as owner-edi-tor of that iinii|iio publication, ‘ The Gramophone,' ho has sufficiently demonstrated tho possession of high musical ideals.

Some time ago this previously undisputed idealism was. nevertheless, subjected to criticism, which, as a sign of tho times, is deserving of notice in this column. Much has been written anent the alleged refining and educational in(lucnce of the gramophone; though I have always leaned to the opinion that this influence, which is unquestionable, operates rather in the direction of intensifying existing musicality than of converting the unmusical heathen, lie this as it may. ‘ Tho Gramophone,’ in its pristine years, made a model musical mentor; its world-wide circulation invested its founder with a mana comparable only to that emanating from some Eastern seer; anl. in fact, Mr Compton Mackenzie became the accepted oracle of the gramophone world—a musical Gandhi, the uncrowned ruler of countless fervent and fanatical followers. Under his beneficent sway the recording instrument’s prestige advanced by leaps and bounds: and. be it noted, ho championed only the best in music at that period. * * * * lint presently some of his most ardent admirers discovered, or professed to discover. what is colloquially termed a nigger in the woodpile—and a nigger who was no mere figure of speech, since he typified that peculiar excrescence on the body musical known os' jazz. In other words, Mr Mackenzie found himself accused of pandering to flagrant commercialism by yielding to the clamour of the madding mol) for more space to be provided in ‘ The Gramophone ’ for reviews of dance music, thus lowering the standard so long held inviolate. This charge caused a prodigious sensation, as may he imagined, which certainly was not lessened by Mr Mackenzie’s attitude towards it; far from giving his tradnc’rs the lie direct, or from hurling back tho accusation in the teeth of the offerers, the alleged offender meekly and sorrowfully admitted the justice of the outcry—at least in part: and entered a plea of guilty in more or less extenuating circumstances.

For the best account of all this we must turn to the pages of ‘ The Gramophone ’ itself, wherein was recorded the initial impeachment, followed by the evidence for the defence. Mr R. L. Clancy began the campaign with a letter, which I have necessarily abridged: “ Dear Mr Compton Mackenzie, — Now that * The Gramophone ’ has apparently completed the metamorphosis recently observed by its original readers . . . you may bo interested to

hear the impressions of one who lias followed your progress from the start. Generally speaking, 1 appreciate the expansion of the magazine and its apparent bid for a larger circulation which will increase its power. Nevertheless, against such possible benefits must be set off the losses on the opposite side of the balance-sheet, chief of which arc the losses of personal touch and in the characteristic of idealist endeavour. A loss of personal touch is, of course, inevitable in the growth of any business. . . , But it is in the field of

idealist endeavour that the change is most marked. . . . Is there already

a tendency to that hardening of the arteries associated with advancing years? In spite of signs of increasing prosperity, 1 miss the youthful fire and zeal. . . . Then there is Mr Kdgar

.Jackson and his six pages of amiable pretentiousness . . . followed by three catalogic pages—all dealing with dance music and ‘ theme-song ’ records. Js this worth while . . . for stuff which will be forgotten 'in six months’ time, whilst omitting that survey of good music which is surely needed?

There was a groat deal more to the same effect—viz., that in the interests of low taste far 100 much space was being devoted to inferior music. The writer concluded by saying: “ I hope you will forgive the . liberty I have taken in writing to you and in criticising the conduct of your business, of which you are probably the best judge, hut 1 do feel the loss of our old friend ‘ The Gramophone.’ ”

Air Mackenzie's reply to this animadversion radiated the courtesy, tact, and cliarm v.ddch have contributed so materially towards bis eminence in the realm of letters; it is also so illuminating that I deeply deplore having to condense it considerably owing to span: restrictions.

“ 1 wonder,” lie wrote. “ if I can make clear, without appearing hopelessly weak and insincere, how profoundly J agree with my correspondent’s views, while simultaneously postulating that the change ho laments was inevitable from tile start. In doing so I shall have to he oven more egotistical than my readers must think I am usually. My life has heen a succession of enthusiasms and cranes, the (ires of which have heen fed by difficulty and opposition. Once my immediate object is attained, .1 have usually turned my energies in other directions. One of those enthusiasms was my intelligence work in Athens during the war. . . . After two years of this, worn out in body and mind, I was given indefinite sick leave, though kept in uniform until the end of 1918 lest I should suppose myself free to express what L thought of the mess that was being made of the Balkan situation.”

Parenthetically, it may he remarked here that it was this very expression of opinion which led to Air Mackenzie's recent arraignment. « • « * He continued ; “ It was during the financial stress of trying to '.support more than my pen was capable ol supportin'l; that .1 conceived the idea ol ‘The Gramophone ’ . . . Badio had then just appeared, and everyone prophesied the complete obsolescence ol the gramophone as a musical medium. . , '. To combat this tendency the magazine wa.s establishes] as the leading

organ of gramophonlc opinion. In estimating the reasons for the (;osthetic) decline of ‘ 'The Gramophone ’ J must agree with my correspondent that there is an apparent inconsistency in my attitude towards dance music, etc., which looks unpleasantly like soiling my soul for cash. I have never pretended, however, to have been* converted myself to this kind of stuff’, which 1 still think detestable. But it has been pointed out to mo that I have no right to edit a paper called ‘ The Gramophone ’ unless ] am willing to give every aspect of the real gramophone an equal chance ; and I cannot discover any good argument against such a contention. . . . For good or ill ‘ The Gramophone ’ has grown too big to voice only one man’s opinions, and it would be unfair to the many commercial interests involved if I refused to recognise that some .surrender of persona) prejudices is unavoidable. . . The financial as-

pect of the magazine is as important to myself as to those associated with me. So that what 1 have to say now must savour of professional ism . . . this is also probably true of the novels 1 write , . , there is nothing which

survives the ruin caused by mechanical perfect ion.”

Th;it I;; tJio (list ol' Mr Mackenzie's reply to the indictment, though tlio text is .slightly nltercel for Iho purpose of abridgment. In my opinion it contains uu element of pathos in no wise

diminished by its disarming candour—■ it amounts, practically, to a confession of domination by a modern Frankenstein monster,, and the tale is not made less dismal by (ho admitted fact that it chronicles another authentic and icsthotically disastrous example of the tail wagging the dog. But Mr Mackenzie’s final sentence, as given above, is surely too bad to bo true. The diaholus ex machiua has much to answer for: but one certain result of a mechanised ago will be infinitely more leisure for the enjoyment and study of music.