ON MUSIC

Southland Times, Issue 22999, 19 September 1936, Page 13

ON MUSIC

(Specially Written for The Southland Times.)

(By W. G. WRIGHT).

When Dr Johnson lightly dismissed music as “the least disagreeable of noises” he adopted an attitude which is far from uncommon to-day—that the art is nothing more than a plaything, fit for the dalliance of women and children; and that the virtuoso is '“clever and all that,” but after all only a sort of super-refined, rather effeminate acrobat. Few successful business or professional men like to be thought “musical”; the best they can contribute is rather bored tolerance. Music is without their sphere simply because they consider it beneath. Their great mistake lies in regarding all forms of musical expression in the same light, as merely superficial and rather intangible amusement. If the airs and rhythms are catchy they will later be whistled in the bathroom; if not they make no impression. To the person who fails to recognise the deeper significance of serious music it seems absurd that one should have to study, then listen hard, in order to enjoy something, which, after all, is but an amusement. But the same applies to any art. Much literature for example, has to be pondered over, but most people will admit its worth. The difference is that we are all taught to read, all given the elements of literary appreciation, while few have even the most rudimentary musical knowledge. Yet music, as afi art, is fit to rank with literature; the greatest musical composers have been men equal in intellect to Shakespeare, Goethe and Milton, In the Home. Time was when music existed in the home, poor stuff much of it, admittedly; but yet music. Girls at any rate were taught the piano, and father usually attempted to sing while mother pounded out a heavy accompaniment to his “Larboard Watch Ahoy!” or “Silver Threads Among the Gold.” Some families could boast even a piano trio or a string quartette. Music in the home was a valuable contribution towards family cohesion, something which is sadly lacking to-day. Most people like music of some kind. Until the era of “canned” music, of the gramophone, the radio, the “talkies,” music could be listened to only if played. People had to study, to practise singing and playing if they wished to enjoy music. The result was that accomplished musicians were considered “accomplished” and were much sought after; and even those who commenced musical study with a view to achieving catchy airs and popular music soon found themselves led on towards a further goal—the playing of serious music. For good music is undoubtedly if not an acquired, a developed taste, brought about by a practical study of the art. To-day, fewer and fewer people are listening to “good music,” simply because in most cases an appreciation of “good music” can be acquired only by study and practical musical training. We cannot learn to value music by turning over a gramophone disc or twirling a radio knob. Music has become too easy; we get it laid on like water or gas; therefore we liave lost the incentive to study and find what it is all about. Water drawn laboriously from a well is more highly prized than mere tap water. To play intelligently we have to study. To listen “intelligently” we have only to sit still, wear a wrapt expression, and fight down the torture of boredom which we suffer through lack of musical education and understanding.

Musical “Snobbery.”

Oddly enough perhaps, there is a great deal of musical snobbery to-day. It is sometimes thought “fashionable” to boast an intense and emotional interest in music. Too often is this interest merely assumed with the aid of jargon which betrays its user not among her own class, where it would matter, but among the really musical, where it seems not to matter. For its future existence music must rely upon small and isolated, but enthusiastic bands of amateurs, who believe paradoxically that “music is made to be played, not listened to.” Perhaps with universal shorter working hours and increased leisure music-making may come back, but it will be necessary to train the children, to bring them into contact with the best in music and endeavour to inculcate a love for something better than mere “hot” dance music. Music is the language of the emotions. Let us train the younger generation to use it as such, but let the emotions be real not the shallow mediocrity and mawkish sentimentalism of the jazz band crooner. Dance music in its place is an excellent thing, but let it be kept in its place. This is the age of noise. All day long we are subjected to the clatter of the streets, the rumble of factories, the noise of hurrying crowds, of cash registers, of typewriters. We have become so conditioned to noise that the most nerve-shattering noise of all is dead silence. Since conversation is a lost art, and bridge (the resort of the conversationally bankrupt) does not supply much noise, we are driven to turn on our radios. Of all noises music is certainly the least disagreeable. But are we to leave it at that? While reading a book we try to comprehend what we are reading; we do not use the print as something upon which to rest our eyes when we do not want to close them. Why then should we relegate music into the background as merely a less disagreeable noise than utter silence?