WORLD OF MUSIC

Southland Times, Issue 18967, 14 June 1923, Page 13

WORLD OF MUSIC

(By

“Presto.")

The Invercargill Orchestral Society’s experiment in giving a school concert to school children more than justified the effort it entailed, and it is to be hoped that the society will continue with this excellent effort to stimulate the love of music. In the dissecting of the “Marche Militaire” the children were given a peep into the inwards, so to speak, of orchestration, and if this is repeated with another composition at the next concert it will do even more good. Mr Ferguson and his colleagues are to be congratulated on this move.

Ernest Newman recently devoted much time and brilliant writing to the condemnation of Moussorgsky, out of whose works he selected only a dozen songs as being worthy of attention. He did not include “The Song of the Flea’’ in the list which was rather strange. “The Song of the Flea" offers a fine field for a bass-baritone of weight, in a display of dramatic singing. For amateurs the chief difficulty will always be in the laughs which play such an important part in the work. Chaliapin sings these laughs dead in tune, but, he like others who take up Moussorgsky's work, cuts the last laugh in two and proceeds with it ad lib. “Die Song of the Flea" will never become popular because it requires a voice of more than usual quality backed by historionism. The best edition I have seen of it is that published by Chester with a translation by Rosa Newmarch.

Few people seem to know that Cadman followed his “Four American Indian Songs" with four others. The title of this second book is “From Wigwan and Tepee” (opas 57) and it contains four lyrics. There is “No Land of the Sky Blue Water” but “The Thunderbirds Come From the Cedars” and “Ho Ye Warriors on the Warpath” are unusual and melodious. The former is a fiery thing, with an effective closing, but “Ho, Ye Warriors,” which should suit both male and female voices, is more mystical. It is a “song of encouragement” sung to troops that are absent. The rhythms are not easy, but when they are mastered and the atmosphere caught, this must be an effective number. “From Wigwam and Tepee” is published by Boosey.

It is strange that one of the most “Irish” of Irish operas should come from a German musician, but it is nevertheless a fact that the typical Irish opera, “The Lily of Killarney,” was composed by a German, the “amiable”—as Albert Smith styled him—Julius Benedict. But Benedict, says the Morning Post, was a clever man, and the Irish idiom in its broad aspect is easy to assume. While speaking with an Irish accent he said many beautiful things, and the airs “Eileen Mavourneen” and “I’m Alone” would give distinction to any opera that dealt in melody, and sixty years have not dimmed the charm of Benedict’s melodies.

There is a danger that the churchyard in Vienna where Mozart is buried may be sold as a building site, and a fund has been started with a view to purchasing the ground and erecting thereon a monument to the composer. They know the churchyard, but there is nothing to mark the spot where Mozart’s bones rest, and the spot is unknown.

Charles Silver’s opera, “La Megere Apprivoisee,” “The Taming of the Shrew,” produced last session in Paris, has been played at Antwerp, Ghent and Namur.

Schonberg’s “Pierrot Lunaire” has been given in Brussels under the auspices of the society “Pro Arte.” The poem by the Belgian Albert Guiraud, has been translated into German and then translated back into “soi-distant French.” You imagine, says the Menestrel’s correspondent, what has become of the delicious original through this Viennese salad! Darius Milhaud directed the performance with “inspired gestures.” The entertainment began with Schonberg’s “Six Piano Pieces,” which are said to have “amused” the audience.

The recent revival in Leipsic of Siegfried Wagner’s opera “Schwarzsachwanenreich” seems to have brought down upon its composer’s head the whole thunder of the critics. “Lasting almost three hours, never exciting, never enthusing, and, worst of all, never arousing one to a spirited opposition, the work is at best a great bore.”

The family party which Arnold Dolmetsch calls a concert gathered in the Botanical Theatre at University College : (reports the London Times). “There are no second violins here —all first fiddles,” he said before sitting down to Byrd’s noble fantasie for six viols. And in the way he meant it and they carried it out. It was precisely true, for Byrd had written it so and they understood him. They played like people having something interesting to say and not caring whether it is anything more—antiquarian, for instance, or showy or “first performance” or better than somebody else’s. They bad not bothered about technique or interpretation, and we are not bothered about clapping, for Mr Dolmetsch had substituted a show of hands early in the proceedings, to every one’s relief, and we expressed our feelings quite easily by what French newspapers call “mouvement.”

Umberto Giordano has completed another opera. The libretto is drawn from the text of the famous play “La Cena delle Beffe,” by Sem Benelli, which is now known throughout the world. The author of “Fedora" and “Andrea Chenier” is himself enthusiastic about his new work, which he believes takes precedence over all other operas. Unfortunately, its production, as so often happens in Italy, has been postponed for an indefinite period on account of legal difficulties. It appears that Sem Benelli gave authority to set his play to music to Montefiore, who naturally insists on his rights. Giordano seems certain, however, that the difficulty will be overcome. A conflict between Mascagni and Walter Mocchi, a manager, that led to blows, arose from a speech at the Lyric Congress in Rome. In a speech Mascagni declared that it was necessary for Italian impressarics and artists to confine themselves to the production of strictly Italian music. He violently attacked Signor Mocchi, accusing him of having deliberately on his foreign tours neglected Italian music, and having created companies of Italian artists for the performance of German music abroad. Mocchi jumped to his feet and declared the allegations to be false. Mascagni repeated the chargee, and, after the sitting, he met Mocchi outside the hall, where they had an altercation followed by blows. The dispute between the maestro and the manager is an old one. They had a violent newspaper discussion in South America over it. Seconds of the contestants met to arrange a duel, but the differences were amicably settled and there was no duel. The seconds issued a statement explaining the circumstances in which the difference arose at the Lyric Congress. Mascagni, it is admitted used an expression which provoked his antagonist, but the latter was equally at fault by making a physical attack. The incident having happened, however, in the midst of a heated debate, neither the composer nor the impressario is held too rigorously responsible for his acts, and the four seconds decided between them that there was no call for a duel.