MUSIC.

Star (Christchurch), 20 December 1907, Page 2

MUSIC.

AND HOW TO MAKE IT. (By On© Who Has Done It.) (Written for the " Star.") "Musio hath/ charms to soothe the savage beast." The mam that hatih no mtisio in his soul, Nor is not moved by concord of sweet sounds la fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils: Let no such man be trusted. In my earliest days of literary appreciation I was met by these lines and others to the same effect. What more natural than that I should soon develop a, taste for music, and ultimately an ear for it, and still more ultimately a desire to make it, and soothe beasts with it, and be properly trusted? Why should I labour under the suspicion of being fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils? They are things I was always most unfitted for. To pass over the primary mental processes, suffice it that at the age of six I procured my first musical instrument, or rather instruments. I was a lonely boy, and nothing would satisfy me but that I should own a whole band, such as daily performed round the corner every Sunday morning, and contributed much to my musical education. A little of that inborn strategy that aroae, I dare cay, from my parents' neglect to equip me with a musical sense from birth, put me in possession of a comb ; a piece or paper was easy, and some persuasion of what I now recollect as a forcible and noisy order brought me a drum that cost eightpence at any respectable toy-shop. On these I performed daily for some time, becoming ever more proficient until at Last I had so emulated the band that we could not be told apart, and all the neighbours regretted the band's devotion that led it to play daily instead of weekly. One unlucky day, though, a man oame and broke .nay 1 drum, and said that he'd had enough, it had got beyond a joke. Apparently he had spoken to my father, too, because that gentleman took quite unwarranted steps to damp my ardour in the pursuit of the Muse. My enthusiasm took a long time to recover, and it was not until I was at school and in the second standard, and realised that at last I was in. a position to assert some of manhood's independence that I again conquered my fear of castigation. I saved another eightpence and bought a mouth-organ — more properly a harmonica. This proved to be too much for me. Far too much. I worked assiduously at it for a long time, being then of rather stubborn disposition, but in vain. There seemed to be something wrong with the sh&po of it. though a number of those whom I had previously regarded as my best friends told me it was the shape of my mouth that was at fault. I tried altering both, but in vain. My mouth still bears testimony to the earnestness of my attempts. Then I got a Jew's harp and a tin whistle. The former, I found, was to be for many months the companion of my solitude, the soother of my shattered nerves, and my unfailing refuge when. I needed comfort. The whistle rejoiced with me when I rejoiced, and conspired with me when I had a scheme of annoyance to carry out. It was a very beautiful whistle, and was played, I well remember, by blowing in one end and moving the fingers up and down on a row of holes that had been made in the side. Ultimately it got rather dented, but that did not in the least impair it. Indeed, ''as a conspirator it seemed rather improved. The playing of that comforting Jew's ha-rp is "a harder tiling to describe.^ # It was placed with neatness and precision against the teeth; the projecting tongue of steel was smitten gently with the fingers, and while you kept an air, neither blown nor drawn, circulating through the instrument, you altered the internal dimensions of your mouth according to the sound you wanted to make. The faithful harp responded invariably, and all sorts of tunes were the result. It was one of the least annoying instruments I have handled. At a later date, and falling weakly in with the prevailing fashion, I obtained another instrument called a kazoo. It was made of bamboo. One end was closed with a little membrane; the other was open. I\ear the closed end there was a hole. To play the kazoo you place the- hole near the membrane to your nearly closed lips, and hum a popular tune. The tune emerges from the open end in a modified form, and you elude the infuriated populace. It is often much easier to get through all the other operations of playing than to elude the populace. The kazoo is not an artistic instrument, and cannot be recommended to the earnest seeker. I gave it up after a third hairbreadth escape. By this time I was getting well into sensible youth. A few years of dilettante devotion to my various instruments went by, and my repertory- of popular music underwent the- changes that the efifhixion of time brings, owing to the. ephemeral nature of popular music. That is one of the charms of youthful music, one has to learn so many tunes. I took up no new instruments, however, though I did experiment with a new type of whistle. It used to b© made out of a little disc of tin, which some jam people issued as an advertisement. Two lines were drawn on it at right angles. On one line, at- equal distances from the centre and the edg©, two holes wPTe pierced with a three-inch nail. Tho tin was then doubled along the other line, the burrs of the holes inwards. The exact closeness of the two halves was determined by subsequent experiment. This I used to play, notwithstanding my short use. of it, very gracefully, but it would be kinder not to tell the forgetful world how it was done. But it conld play lovely tunes. At about the time- when I first went to work, I made up my mind to go in really seriously for the study of music. It came upon too as a sudden and undeniable conviction that the violin was an instrument that looked as if it was a handy size to grapple with, and that withal was capable, in experienced hands, not only of producing tunes, but even of bringing in funds copiously. There was no peace in our household for seven weeks. " At the end of the seventh week father brought homo my violin. He said he had always been averse to my pursuit of music, but he could stand* it better than being pestered. A man who co-Id do very funny things with a fiddle consented, for a paltry consideration, to teach me to play. I learned fast,.r and, I thin*, attained some proficiency. In after years, I helped another man to hound that instructor and his funny tricks out of the town. That was when I began to appreciate how I really did play. I fear that in our enthusiasm we were a little hard on that man, and if he could be persuaded to meet mo now, I would apologise to him. It is almost -useless to describe the method of playing the violin. But I can describe the instrument. It consists mostly of wood, of a peculiarly striped sort that is. never used, foir any other purpose. Violin makers are always rogues, because, as old violins are supposed to be better than new, they always paint them to look as if they were much worn on the projecting parts. The instrument is fitted with four strings niadie from the intestines of the cat, which are stretched tightly by means of pegs to arbitrary tensions dictated by the instructor. A bow, equipped with a dressing of hair from the tails of •whit© mares (I quote from the handbooks) is used to set t3ie. strings in vibration. It has always fan'a maiiM.

to me how such musio as some people can get is producible with such illassorted beginnings, but it is much easier to understand the noises that proceed from the instructor's place of business. It was partly on account of the noises that my old instructor was forced, to leave. The violin proved, too difficult for me, and I gave it up as a regular fetish. It still stands in my bedroom, faithfully according to the directions, in a dry corner, and now and again I take it out and look at it, and think of the many happy hours it must have whiled away for its previous owner. About a year ago (it might be more) I bought a flute. Now, if ever there was an instrument that I should be able to understand, it is the flute. As a student of Sound, I recognised that the . flute gets right at the basis of things. Sound is a manifestation of vibrations of the air ; and without any monkeying round with intermediate appliances, the flute promotes vibrations in the air at once. It is easy to see how it does so. The flute is a wooden tube in three parts. End on, it looks just like a gun, and it has a hole at the stopped-up end that corresponds exactly to the touch-hole. There are many keys on the sides, and they cover holes "such as are placed in the tin-whistle by the manufacturer. The presence of the holes made the understanding of the flute all the easier to me, after my long experience with the whistle. To> play the flute, you press the barrel part firmly to tihe lips, move your^fingers on the keys in a pre-arranged order, fixed by the instructor, and blow into the touch-hole. You then understand, more easily than I can explain, how the vibrations are formed, and what is the effoct of the various combinations of depressed keys. Simple in theory, the flute is not at all an, easy instrument to play. I found that, as has always been/ the case when I take "up an instrument in earn&t, my landlady objected to my music. She sent me a very rude letter complaining that I did not pay my bill regularly. It was a feeble subterfuge, but it was an urgent message, and I had to change my lodgings. The flute, its maiden brightness hardly sullied, its' tone not yet realised, was placed beside the violin, and it has not since been in my heart to touch it save on those occasions when memory becomes too much for self-restraint. But the other lodgers always put it back for me. But I found this enforced deprivation of the solace of music painful. One of my companions in the desert of boarding-house life was a sweet performer upon the piano; and my new landlady, when I asked her, . said she had no great objection to my taking lessons on the piano and practising, so long as my hours were not too outrageous. 1 therefore, with my friend'e assistance, purchased a reliable tutor for half-a-crown — so cheap is the worship of the leader of the Muses. I 'found the tutor liberally illustrated with authentic photographs of somebody's hands, which had been contorted into many «trange attitudes j and the text gravely set out that by careful practice the learner could not only twist his hands up in a similar way, but could thereby acquire much facility in producing harmony from the instrument. Such an achievement a© appeared in one of the photographs seemed to me specially worthy of imitation, and I endeavoured for a long time to imitate the evolution, but only succeeded in making my third finger very sore. It was little wonder, because, as nearly as I could make out, the tip of the finger had to be lifted back over the hand, passed through the palm,' and placed upon the key next to the thumb. The attitude was graceful in the extreme, in the picturejbut I had to give it up. In. the end, I passed over the photographs as hopeless, except for purposes of instruction in physical culture, and addressed myself to "Nelly Bly" and other similarly simple tunes. A tune called " Trab Trab " came easily to my fingers after a time, and when I had. practised it for some time and studied the scale of 0 major very carefully for about a week, I began to be able more fully to appreciate the beauties of many of the finer compositions of the great masters. Beethoven's sonatas, as played by my musical friend, lost their terrors; the " Marche Militaire" (Schubert-Tauzig) was a lightsome fancy, to be taken daily before breakfast. I worked assiduously at the scale of 0 and at my small repertory of piano music, playing with one finger. Then I essayed some chords^ in the class of work known to all musical experts as vamping. I was getting on very well, but relentless fate 'seemed determined on my undoing. My landlady began a course of discouragement By going out to buy the daily chop whenever I started to play. At first 1 thought nothing of it, but one day she said she did not want to go out, but felt that she really must. She spoke tearfully, looking at the piano the while. A few days later, when I came in for my practice, I found the entrails of the instrument exposed, while a man pecked at them with a spanner. He told me he was tuning it. Thereafter it was kept locked, and the landlady assured me the key had been stolen. But I heard someone playing it one day, though it. was locked before and after, and then I knew that I had received another urgent message. I sold the tutor for sixpence. Now I am going to have my voice trained. , , I feel sure that thus I can get back all I have lost. I have a large and annoying voice, and they cannot lock the lid of it. And lam as stubborn as ever I was.