THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 22450, 22 September 1936, Page 6

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

“Music gives tone to the universe: wings to the mind: flight to the imagination: a charm to sadness: gaiety and life to everything.” — Plato. With some amusement I read in tlie columns of the ‘ Radio Record ’ the other week some very guarded comments on the performances of Miss Eileen Joyce. By the time these lines appear in print Dunedin music-lovers will have realised at first hand that the most eulogistic references to this marvellous girl contained no exaggeration. Every competent judge of pianoplaying is fully aware that among her own sex Eileen Joyce has no equal today, and that certain qualities of her art place her ahead also of many eminent men pianists; in the exquisite delicacy of her “ touch,” and the profoundly spiritual atmosphere of her playing Miss Joyce rivals the greatest living performers. Just why any honest critic should be afraid to admit this is not easy to understand. Yet we find a writer in the ‘ Radio Record ’ who evidently has not the courage of his convictions. In his patent anxiety to avoid the . Scylla of hyperbole this cautious scribe bumps heavily into the Charybdis of minimisation. * * * * Thus, after a preliminary allusion to what he terms the. famous pianist’s “ triumphant welcome by a packed audience in the Wellington Town Hall on August 30,” the ‘ Radio Record’ critic seems to be afraid of having committed himself to rash overstatement, so he qualifies it immediately by saying that, following the big concert, Eileen Joyce gave three recitals from 2YA, “ in all of which she displayed remarkable talent.” Remarkable talent, indeed! I think I have seen and heard this phrase applied to budding musical students innumerable. But this is not ail. A little further on, after stating that Miss Joyce practises seven hours a day, the writer caps his previous estimate with the naive conclusion: “ How l ever, she most pleasing results.” Most pleasing, truly! We are scarcely surprised, after this, to read in the current week’s ‘ Record ’ that Miss Joyce is “an accomplished young pianiste.” One northern paper actually did not seem to know that Miss Joyce was a pianist, for it described her as having “ nearly 600 songs ” in her repertoire! » * » » Having said ,this much about the ‘ Radio Record,’ it is only fair to point out that, generally speaking, the style and contents of this magazine—when the latter can be disentangled from a mass of irrevelant advertising matter—leave little to be desired, and, if not yet the official organ of the Broadcasting Service, there seems little doubt of its promotion to that status in the near future. Should this come about, we can but hope that the ‘ Radio Record ’ will seek to emulate the better features of its eminent prototype, the London ‘ Radio Times,’ which is the official “ journal ” of the B.B.C.—the journal that is published weekly. When I say “ better ” features, I mean the articles that are informative, well written, and intelligent, in contradistinction to those obviously designed to tickle the eyes of the groundlings. There is nothing to be ashamed of in flavouring the daily round with a dash of idealism. In other words, it does no harm every now and again to tell the low-brows “just where they get off,” and to make it clear that man is endowed with intellect—difficult though it be sometimes to credit.

Several times in this column I have given it as my opinion that, regarded as a whole, programmes broadcast by our National Service are superior to those of the 8.8. C., inasmuch as local radio fare contains a larger proportion of good music. Nevertheless, there are at least two aspects of New Zealand radio open to improvement. The first is a curtailment of broadcasting generally. Dr Malcolm Sargent only echoed a widely-held belief when he said that too much music is broadcast. In this country it begins far too early in the day. Who on earth wants to hear music before breakfast? The 8.8. C. sets a good example by commencing its programmes at 10.15 a.m., which is early enough, in all conscience. Moreover, these British programmes start witli a short devotional service—a good way to begin the day’s work, no matter what one’s religions attitude may be. Then comes usually a talk by an acknowledged authority on some subject of general interest, and not until 11 a.m. does the listener get a musical interlude. On Sundays there is a religious service at 9.30 a.m. and no musical programme before 12.30.

No doubt the new Director of New Zealand Broadcasting, Professor James Shelley, will be inundated with suggestions for improving the service, so I make no apology for advancing one suggestion here—viz., that each station throughout New Zealand be allocated a certain type of broadcast. This would permit every listener to obtain exactly what he wants when he wants it. It would be necessary, of course, to increase the transmitting power of the smaller stations, but once this were done, and my suggestion adopted, we should have no more complaints from disgruntled listeners, for every taste would be provided for. I make no claim for originating this idea, which has probably occurred to many thinking persons, but I do hope that something on these lines may be done. What a comfort to know that by switching on to a certain station one could always he certain of hearing precisely the kind of music, or other fare, that one would choose! We should also be spared the practice, now so prevalent, of being suddenly switched over to some undesired programme, or, worse still, of eleventh-hour complete alteration of items,

Another very much wanted improvement in New Zealand radio is the provision of up-to-date studios. Quite a lot of tho adverse criticism directed against studio broadcasts springs from the disparity of cause and effect. By this I mean that really excellent performances in the studios do not “ come over ” as they ought to do simply on account of bad acoustical conditions. This is brought home very forcibly when one visits a studio and compares the sound of an orchestral performance as heard there with the effect produced through the microphone. No fault lies in the transmission; the mechanism —that is, tho engineering •side—of New Zealand radio is fully equal to that of other countries, at least as regards the main stations. But the finest transmitting apparatus in the world cannot enhance sounds that are dulled and stultified by low ceilings, heavy carpets, and thick curtains—handicaps that defy the efforts of the most skilled performers. Compare a studio broadcast with one from a theatre or concert hall, and my argument is at once forcibly doimn d rated. Studios should be large and lolly, and

furnished just sufficiently to avoid undue reverberation. « • • • One very noticeable feature of musical conditions in New Zealand is tho lack of homogeneity, not only between the various communities, but between different sections of the same locality. More or less petty feuds, rancour, and occasionally even bitter enmity are known to mar the relationships of musical bodies and individuals; and it is difficult to see how the cause of music as a whole can possibly make progress while this continues. Naturally, there must ever be rivalry between musicians contending for public favour, but why this cannot be a friendly rivalry passes my comprehension. I fail to understand the existence of musical factions that one finds in every centre. Unreasoning jealousy and spite are at the bottom of this very undesirable state of affairs, and I think the few publications that feature musical life in this country would do a public service by pouring oil on these troubled waters. Admittedly, jt is a difficult job. but one well wortli investigation. What says our friend, the ‘ Radio Record,’ to stai ting the ball rolling? (Pardon the mixed metaphor.)