THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 21994, 2 April 1935, Page 3

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.] " Mu»io gives tone to tho universe: wings to the mind: flight to the imagination: a. charm to sadness: gaiety and life to everything.”—Plato. The actual facts regarding the real position of music to-day in the lives of the people of Britain are as difficult to arrive at as it is hard fo estimate the precise condition of trade. In respect of tho latter, we are constantly being told, by certain papers of an obstinately optimistic type, that on all sides there are unmistakable signs of returning prosperity—unemployment is decreasing, wage-cuts are being restoredj etc., etc.; and we want to believe it, despite the evidence of our own eyes, which everywhere show us the fell hands of poverty, distress, and starvation holding millions in a relentless grip. Eminent musical authorities seem to differ just as radically. This was clearly revealed when the heads of the musical profession in Britain, under the auspices of the Incorporated Society of Musicians, held their forty-fifth annual conference at Buxton early in January. I propose here to give extracts from their speeches.

The president, Sir Edward Bairstow —who, incidentally, is organist and choirmaster of York Minster —in his opening address, said: • ■ “ Regarding the future of music in this country, it is largely in the hands of members of this conference, for we are the teachers and the music-makers. The present condition > of _ music is not a subject for much rejoicing. There is not the desire to make music generally that there used to be. _ In the home it is practically non-existent. Concerts, too, are often badly attended. Speaking broadly, people do not seem to get the same joy out of music as formerly, either from themselves performing or from listening to the efforts of others. Then the modern composer, only too often, appears to have lost much of the sense of be.auty, of Eroportion, and of artistic contrast, in is wild quest for novelty at all costs. His music frequently tends to portray evil rather than good—force instead of love, mere cleverness with soul or nobility .of utterance. ... To a large extent we are powerless to fight against the enemies of music; hut, if our pupils were properly’' trained and prepared, the seed so indiscriminately and dangerously scattered by these enemies would fall upon harmproof soil. This is a very serious thought for every music teacher to ponder. Being artists, we do not believe in force. We cannot force the 8.8. C. to stop encouraging people merely to hear music without really listening to it, nor can we force the_ radio authorities to cease transmitting so much trash; we cannot force people to attend good concerts instead of going everlastingly to the cinema.

Dr George Dyson, Master of Music at Winchester College, said: “Wo in this room have lived through one of the most remarkable revolutions 'in artistic history.’ The musical machines have devoured ns, and cas.t us up in a thousand multiplications. Far more music is produced than ever in the world before, yet more musicians are out of work than has ever previously been known. But we have to face these facts, and face them without flinching, for we cannot put tho clock back.

Let us consider the gramophone, the modern development of which has evolved a machine, or rather an instrument, that we must look at, and listen to, very seriously indeed. No reasonable musician can deny that the gramophone, in its latest form, is the most potent and the most wonderful vehicle of musical education and enjoyment that man has yet devised; it has brought, and doubtless will continue to bring, to millions of ears a musical experience and a musical judgment which could not possibly have been acquired in any other way. Broadcast music, on the other hand, however good in itself and in transmission, is less potent- than tho gramophone—its impressions are fleeting; its repertory is in other hands. . . . But, nevertheless, when we hear people say they would rather listen to a good mechanised performance than a mediocre actual one, we musicians cannot gainsay them: wo can but hide our diminished heads and resolve to raise the standard of our own performances.” ' * •» * * Commenting further on broadcasting, the speaker said that tho vast majority of listeners with whom ho had come into contact were not a whifc interested in music, and he ventured to predict that tho advent of television would sound the death-knell of this interminable transmission of music which was wanted by only a comparatively small section of the license-holders. The eye was more easily entertained than the ear. said Dr Dyson, a truth demonstrated daily by the universal popularity of the cinema. He also contradicted the gloomy views expressed by the president: “ Mechanisation cannot kill music, any more than photography can kill the art of painting, or cinematography that of acting, because the artistic impulse, in whatever direction it shows itself, is the fruit of an essentially creative mind and spirit. There is no evidence that this artistic impulse is diminishing—indeed, in some obvious respects it is growing, . , .” * * * * Miss Mary Ibberson, from Hertfordshire, spoke very encouragingly of the way in which music was distinctly progressing in country villages: and in this connection she had a good _word to say for the 8.8. C., who, she insisted, ivas to be thanked for provoking increased interest in musical instrument playing. She mentioned one case of a gardener’s wife who, after listening to a broadcast, took violin lessons and learnt to play well, stimulating several neighbours to’ follow her example, which at last resulted in a small ensemble being formed. Who could say definitely how often such cases might be multiplied, thanks entirely to the 8.8. C.? Other speakers gave expression to views almost diametrically opposite, one rejoicing greatly over the total disappearance of the “old-fashioned musical evening with its anaemic Victorian ballads and piano solos,” whilst another lamented the passing of these self-same functions, killed by jnechanised music; a sad loss, because whatever tho artistic faults of the domestic performers, they undoubtedly put their whole souls into their efforts, and were so much the better for that amount of personal exposition.

The conference seemed, however, to be at one in reference to the vital importance of good music in the education of the young. The members were unanimous on the point, so often stressed in this column, that the supreme aim in musical training for the rising generation should be to teach what is best and noblest in music, so that when youth came to years of discretion there .would exist small temp-

tation to discard the high standards firmly inculcated, no matter what “ horrible stuff ” might be encountered on the highway of Ife. This, of course, is the ideal of all education; in brief, it implies the formation of character. No person of real character would tolerate bad or debasing music for one moment. « * * » Just how bad some of this so-called music can he even I had not quite realised until I attended a piano recital given at Wigmoro Hall, London, by Victor Babin, who is a very clever and well-known pianist. In between a Brahms and a Mozart Sonata he had the effrontery—there’s no other term —to sandwich an ultramodern sonata labelled ‘ For the First Time in London.’ Lot ns hope it will also be the last. Even the hardened critics called it “ impudent, irrelevant clatter.” The composer’s name was Schastotakawitscli—and it serves him right*