SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN DEAD.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVII, Issue 11538, 24 November 1900, Page 5

SIR ARTHUR SULLIVAN DEAD.

By Telegraph.—Press Association.—Copyright. London, November 22. The death is announced of Sir Arthur Sullivan, aged 58. Sir Arthur Sullivan was a veritable ma-; gician of melody, and his name is known and honoured, not only all over Great Britain, but everywhere throughout the world wherever good music is understood and appreciated. Rarely, if ever, has genius been so clearly defined in"musical work, or attained such wide recognition in a lifetime. Hymns, anthems, oratorios, and lighter musio—the latter mainly in the form of the ever-popular Gilbert-Sullivan operas—have been the fruitful output of his busy pen during the pott 30 years, and it may be said that there is practically no department of music which he has not treated, nor any work which has not immediately seized hold on the affections of the great English public. Sir Arthur Sullivan's father was an Irishman, an able executant musician, and for many years holding the position of bandmaster at the Military College at Sandhurst. The younger ma, Arthur, was born in London 58 years' ago. As a boy, Arthur Sullivan attended all the band practices. No practice was complete without the little curly-headed fellow, with his rosy face and darkly wondrous eyes, running hither and thither, happier there* by far than with all the toys imaginable; and so it wont on until he was eight years of age, by which time, incredible as it may seem, there was hardly a wind instrument that the boy could not play with facility. His professional career may be said to have begun when be succeeded in gaining the position of chorister at the Chapel Royal. He had a very f.ne treble voice, whilst his style of singing was far more sympathetic than that of most boys. It was while at the Chapel Royal that the young chorister made his first attempt at musical composition, and wrote an anthem, i which was duly sung in the chapel. Arthur Sullivan was only 14 years of age when he won the Mendelssohn scholarship. Sir Joseph Barnby was one of the candidates, and Arthur Sullivan was the youngest of them. It was while at Lcipsic, and when 18 years of age, that he did his first serious piece of work, the music of Shakespere's " Tempest." This was produced at a Crystal Palace concert on his return to London a year afterwards, and its success was immediate. Amongst thoso who camo to hear the music on the second occasion was Charles Dickens. He waited outside the artist's room until Sullivan made his appearance, and, shaking him by the hand, the great novelist exclaimed, " I don't profess to know much about music, but I do know that I have listened to a very beautiful work." And thus began an acquaintance which was only terminated by the novelet's death. It is probably by such pieces as " The Lost Chord," in addition to the Gilb-jrt-Sullivan operas, that Sir Arthur Sullivan's work is most popularly appreciated. The composition of this fine, stirring piece of music, of which one is never tired, came about in this way. His elder brother Frederick had fallen illhis fatal illness for three weeks the young composer watched by his bedside night and day. One night—the pvA was not very far off then— his sick brother had fallen into a peaceful sleep, and he was sitting, as usual, by the bedside, the musician chanced to come across some versos of Adelaide Procter's, with sdiich five years previously he had been very much impressed!. Now, in the stillness of the night, he read them over again, and almost as he did so he realised their musical equivalent. A stray sheet of music paper was at hand,, and he began to write. Slowly the music grew and took shape, until, becoming quite absorbed in it, he determined to finish the song. Thus was written "The Lost Chord," perhaps (he most successful song of modern times. His first success, however, as a song-writer was with " Orpheus and His Lute"—one of his best songs, but which was written and sold for a five-pound note. It will be of interest to describe the first meeting of the librettist and the composer in Mr. W. S. Gilbert's cwn words. " Now, I am as unmusical as any man in England," said Mr. Gilbert "I am quite incapable of whistling an air in tune, although I have a singularly good ear for rhythm. In a piece which I was writing — and for which the late Fred. Clay was writing the musicl had one character named Zoram. a musical impostor. I was bound to make Zoram express his musical ideas in technical language, so I took up my ' Encyclopedia Britannica,' and, turning up the word 'Harmony,' selected a suitable sentence and turned it into sounding blank verse. Curious to know whether this would pass muster with a musician, I said to Sullivan (who happened to be present at the rehearsal, and to whom I had just been introduced), 'I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Sullivan, because you will be able to settle a question which has just arisen between Mr. Clay and myself. My contention is that when a musician who is master of many instruments has a musical theme to express, he can ixpress it as perfectly upon the simple tetraohord of Morcury (in which there are, as we all know, no diatonic intervals whatever) as upon the more elaborate diapason (with the familiar four tetrachords and the redundant note), which, I need not remind you, embraces in its simple consonance all the single, double, and inverted chords.' He reflected for a moment, and asked me to oblige him by repeating my question. I did so, and he replied that it was a very nice point, and that he would like to think it over before giving a definite reply. That took place about 27 years ago, and 1 believe he is still engaged in hammering it out!" Beginning with " Trial by Jury," and ending with " The Gondoliers," there was no break in the GilbertSullivan successes for nearly a score of years, and apart from the fame which the ever-de-lightful comic operas brought to the composer and librettist, it may be added that the work which these two men did in conjunction gave a death blow to tho French opera bouffe which had hitherto prevailed, and, for once, success was achieved without the slightest appeal to anything in the shape of questionable jokes or vulgarity.