THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 22272, 25 February 1936, Page 3

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

Music gives lone to (.be universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and fife to everything.—Plato. Reverting once more to the subject of musical snobs and snobbery, let us first attempt to define these expressions. The dictionary tells ns a snob is a person who is influenced by wealth and position of others, rather thati by character and merit. Thackeray describes the snob as “one who meanly admires mean things.” Both definitions are right in a sense, yet neither is quite applicable to that class of musical folk which comes under the heading of snobs or prigs. We all know the type of musician that truckles to social superiors, of course, but he is the same as any other snob. Of a like kind, too, are they who bow down before the deity of degrees—in whose eyes no musician can be any good unless half the letters of the alphabet trail after the surname. Jack Brown, Mns. Doc., Mus. Bac.. F.R.C.0., L.E.A.M., A.R.C.M., LL.B., L.T.C.L., etc., etc. must, it is argued, be cleverer than plain J. Robinson, notwithstanding that the latter can demonstrate undeniable superiority in practical musicianship—such as, for example in sight reading or in extempore playing. 1 know at least a dozen first-rate musicians in this country who possess no diplomas, .and would probably fail if examined in even elementary theory of music; but they are fully equipped for their jobs as performers on their respective instruments. ♦ • * • Real proficiency in music does not necessarily depend upon passing examinations, and a string of letters after one’s name is no criterion of musical worth. The true artist will make his or her mark by sheer merit unaided by these advertising signs—always provided that talent goes hand in hand with force of character. Musical success demands the same from human nature as attainment of any other goal in life—viz., grim resolution and inflexible will, coupled with high moral principle. Thus furnished, the earnest musician need fear no foe in shining armour, nor one entrenched behind all the vowels and consonants, from Alpha to Omega.' I think “prig” best describes the much-lettered individual who is intolerant of his—to him—illiterate musical brethren, since the dictionary defines that word as “ a conceited didactic person.” • • • • Some form of intolerance underlies all musical snobbery. The organist who despises any save church music; the instrumentalist who affects dislike of vocalism; the high-brow who sneers at Mendelssohn; the Jazz-hound whose horizon is bound by “ hot rhythm,” the radio fiends to whom “ classical rot ” or “dance tripe” are respectively anathema; the newspaper correspondents who constantly assail the Sunday music broadcasts; the supercilious who scorn picture theatre orchestras; and, perhaps worst of all, those who pretend that the harmonic horrors perpetrated by some extreme modern composers are real landmarks in musical progress—all these are either snobs or .prigs. So are those who profess disdain of mechanical dexterity—especially players devoid of technique themselves. This is . the type that calls executive brilliance mere “ fireworks,” and says —“ Oh, yes, but Heifetz has no soul, you know.”—Others again find no merit in slow music or in simple melody. The musical world. like the rest of humanity, is full of foibles; it has its Philistines. Pharisees, Goths, Vandals, and Pecksniffs. Fortunately also it has some good Samaritans, and at least oiie ; Percy Grainger, to redress the balance. * * * * Sir Hugh Allen, principal of the Royal College of Music, was recently a guest of honour at the annual dinner given by the Incorporated Society of Musicians in London, when he took advantage of the occasion to air his views regarding the habit of having music at meal times—-or rather the playing of it. He was alluding to the musicians employed at restaurants, hotels, and tearooms. The subject has received mention previously in this column, and Lam in full accord with Sir Hugh Allen’s opinion that it is derogatory both to performer and to musical art that music should be made a mere adjunct to eating and drinking. On the other hand, what is the poor unemployed musician to do if he is offered a part-time job at an hotel to dispense light .music whilst the patrons refresh the inner man, especially when —as the custom is—the remuneration includes a first class dinner. This is often a case where discretion is the better part of dignity. Moreover, few instrumentalists really like playing on an empty stomach ; it savours too much of hollow pretence. But, full or empty, tne stomachs that graced the above banquet had the courage of their convictions, for no music accompanied the meal; even the toasts were silent

Another speaker at this function deplored the absence of young musicians. “ I do not understand,” he said, “ why youth is not better represented in our membership, and we should 'do our utmost to encourage the entry of young members, for only when we have the idealism, the vitality and energy of youth will the society carry the weight and exert the influence it ought to do.”

This speaker was Sir John Mae Ewen, principal of the R.A.M., whom 1 met several times whilst in London, ». man whose intense sincerity is evident whenever he gives an opinion, and commands involuntary -respect. It is therefore most interesting to find him pleading the cause of the younger generation, and it reminds me of a passage in Thackeray’s ‘ Sketches and Travels ’:

We should pay as much reverence to youth as we do to age; there are points in which young folks are altogether our superiors. 1 ’ Whether the. great author would revise this judgment were he to revisit the “ glimpses of the moon ” and witness a roomful of young and pseudoyoung jazz addicts dancing feverishly to the insane moans and wails of perverted saxophones, may be questioned, perhaps. But then foot-faults are inevitable when “ youth must be served.”

1 have just received the preliminary prospectus of the Dunedin Competitions Society’s 1936 festival, to begin on August 19 next. Six big classes are to be specially featured this year, viz., the contests for grand opera aria, large choirs, open piano championship, elocution championship, grand ballet, and national ballet respectively. The prize list is, in some items at least, fairly attractive and calculated to horrify our friend “ H.P.,” of the Wellington ‘ Dominion,’ who recently expressed pious alarm at the mercenary trend amongst amateur musicians. The largest prize is £IOO, contributed jointly by Dunedin’s two newspapers, and offered to the winners of the chief

choral contest. As, however, this prize will lie shared by all the members of the champion choir, the biggest prize actually is the £SO to be won by the individual singer adjudged first in the aria contest. It is disappointing to note the comparatively small prize offered, to the champion pianist—£lo. The piano is the universal instrument, after all, and encouragement of its expert exploitation by means of really substantial pecuniary inducement might have widespread business and trade repercussions. It is also disquieting that no prizes of value are being offered for violin and ’cello players, nor for original composition. One hopes that the committee will make amends for these omissions when drawing up future schedules. Meanwhile Dunedin may be privileged to hear some really fine choral singing if the choir entries fijfil expectations. Intending competitors will be pleased to hear that arrangements are :n hand for billeting members of visiting choirs, all information regarding which and other matters appertaining is evailahle from Mr E. S. Wilson, secretary Dunedin Competitions Society, P.O. Box 92, Dunedin.