THE CONDUCTOR'S PART

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXII, Issue 22226, 28 September 1935, Page 13 (Supplement)

THE CONDUCTOR'S PART

A SUBLIMATED TEACHER MAGICIAN OF THE CENTURY In an ago in which whatever is not quite understood is readily described as "too marvellous," tho conductor of an orchestra is admired as the crowning marvel of musical performance. Virtuosity, an expression now generally used to mean that sort of attainment which fastens attention on itself, always exercises a powerful attraction on listeners to music. At the beginning of the eighteenth century tho singers had practically a monopoly of musical virtuosity, and Farinelli's nightly contest with the trumpeter was held to bo the acme of such attainment. Then tho fiddlers, headed by Tartini, asserted their claims, and oven at the beginning of the enlightened nineteenth century Paganini was said to be in league with the devil. There followed the long lino of pianists whose virtuosity excited a lesser wonder only because it was displayed more in tho common light of day. A pair of hands on a keyboard is less magical in effect than the bow flashing across four strings, or the singer emitting tones without any apparent strain to his or her internal mechanism. Everyone could see what tho pianist was doing; most people had tried, however inadequately, to do a bit of it themselves. The keyboard virtuoso was and. is greatly admired, but even if the devil had remained in fashion it would scarcely have been necessary to call him in to explain a Thalberg, a Liszt, or a Paderewski. But the virtuoso conductor restores tho sense of mystery. Ho is the musical magician of the twentieth century, because his attainment can never be precisely measured. Ho makes no noise; indeed, he cannot be held directly responsible for the sounds produced. If tho first oboe happens to possess a tone like mustard, or if tho horn invariably bubbles at tho critical moment, the conductor cannot help it. To a certain extent the instrumentalist is similarly dependent on his instrument, but not equally so.

Is there really any difference between the higher and the lower orders of conducting other than the greater or less capacity to toachP Some teachers in a school are good at starting beginners in a subject, others in coaching tho scholarship classes. The genius for teaching may be displayed with either type of material. Tho Queen's Hall conductor who takes charge of the 8.8.C. or similar orchestra has the duty of teaching the already highly-trained executants, and tho visiting conductor has to do his teaching quickly. What he has to teach them is to give the perfect tion of his ideal conception of 'a symphony, let us say "Eroica." They know the work by heart so that he has little or nothing to teach them about its technical' detail. Any special requirements of that kind which may contribute to his idea of tho work, such as bowing, can be marked in tho parts beforehand.

But tho subtle tonal relationships which cannot bo written into the parts aro tho essentials of his teaching, and those will be taught, not as they would bo to beginners, by verbal explanation and patient practice, but by a process of instinctive communication between conductor and players which the latter may scarcely apprehend intellectually. The leader of a London orchestra who had played under most of the great conductors of tho world said of one of them: "I don't know what ho is doing half tho time, but ho makes mo feel that I ran play better than I ever thought I could!" This communication is what for lack of a better name is called personal magnetism in a con-' ductor, and it is generally that which is lauded to tho skies and is called "too marvellous" by the unmusical or semimusical. But it may bo really too marvellous. It all depends how it is used. Wo come to tho larger question of what is the ideal conception which the conductor teaches his players to transmit to their hearers. After all it is they who are playing, not he, and much of the actual quality of tho performance will rest with them individually. It is only with the collective result that he can be said to be concerned. And when we ask this larger question we cannot escape the likelihood that the more the conception is his own the loss is it the composer's. 'lf it is new it is not true, and if true it is not now" is the saying which has a fairly wide application here. Tho object of the conductor's work lies outside tho realm of virtuosity as defined above. So, properly speaking, does tho object of every executive artist's work. It is not, or should not bo, intended to fasten attention on itself. But the difference in the conductor's case is that tlio means are worth nothing at all apart from the object; there is in them nothing on which to fasten attention. The conductor is not really an executant at all, and therefore not a virtuoso; he is a sublimated teacher.