THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 22462, 6 October 1936, Page 2

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

“Music gives lone to iho universe: wings to the mind : (light to iho imagination: a charm to sadness: gaiety and life to everything.”—Plato. - A sense of humour is a priceless gilt, whether it bo in relation merely to the art of music or to life’s amenities in general. It has been ray experience that musical folk, as a body, have this valuable sense very highly developed—though, of course, wo have all mot the academic typo of musician, solemn, portentous, and extremely .lofty in hrow, to whom jokes of every kind are cither caviare, or anathema, or beneath his dignity to notice. This is the sort, too, that makes musical magazines a weariness to the flesh by writing abstruse treatises on the alleged meaning of music and tedious dissertations on harmonic syntax—-overlooking the obvious fact that when grown-up musicians have got beyond the elementary stage they don’t want to be reminded of how music is spelt, any more than they want to know ]iow the painter mixes his colours when they visit a picture gallery. The pictures, and the music, tell their own story. * * * * However. I am wandering away from humour. Broadly speaking this may be of two kinds, the conscious and the unconscious ; and to my mind the latter is often the more delicious, I have just met examples of both. In the current number of ‘ Music in New Zealand there occurs a quotation from a humorous writer in London ‘ Musical Opinion, giving a burlesque of the average song recital programme as per newspaper advertisement, to enjoy which properly it is necessary to have some knowledge ol languages. Here it is in full; — 1. Aria, “Gaga, Gaga ”-—Looni. 2. “ Vcsti e Panti ” —Speranza. 3. “ Mou Beurre s’ouvre a’ ta voix ’—Saint-Sainsbury. 4. “ Chanson do la Veillc Vache ” —Mou 5. “ Dio ‘ Lotus ’ Schuhc” — Schumacher. 6. “Wcr furchtefc sieh vom bosen Wolf? ” —Mickimaus. « « • • The humour in the above is fairly obvious, provided one knows the allusions —thus in 2, a veiled reference to vesta and pants; in 3, it is necessary to couple “ mon beurre ” (my butter) with Salisbury, a famous Loudon grocer who -has no connection with SaintSaeus; number 4, means “ the song ot the old cow ” (by Mou) ; 5, is a rather barefaced advertisement for a well known brand of shoo leather; while 6, is simply the German rendering of “ Who’s afraid of the big bad Wolf? ” (by Mickimaus). The f.un rather pales in the explanation and translation—as all jokes do, more or loss, when watered down. But, I must confess, I laughed immoderately on a first reading. Now for an instance of unconscious humour—that is to say, I firmly believe it to bo unintentional,' though it is always possible that the perpetrator had his tongue in his cheek. This joke has the drawback of being rather long winded, but if renders will boar with me a little the point is worth waiting for. It has reference to the music of Stravinsky, and is lifted, without apology, from the pages of ‘ The Gramophone,’ that most interesting musical monthly edited by Compton Mackenzie. Stravinsky, J need scarcely remind you, is ono of the ultra-modern composers, of whom Grove’s Dictionary says: “His music obeys no rules but those of its own making, and these again are subject to no definite system.” After that, naturally, ono expects to hear all kinds of funny noises, and some not so funny, in Stravinsky’s “ music,” and one is not disappointed. Just why Stravinsky should not he dismissed as a clover, pretentious humbug passes my comprehension. Here we have a man who is an undoubted master of orchestration, but is completely destitute of any original Ideas in composition, so chooses to express himself in sounds merely designed to startle, to .-■hock, or to annoy, but never by any hauce to charm. « * « • The article in ‘ The Gramophone ’ dealing with Stravinsky is headed by (he following sago utterance:— “ The law that governs his work, instead of being based on some abstract logic, is founded upon the very nature of musical matter and auditory sensibility.”—Ansermet. Did ever you read more high-fahitin’ drivel? It 'is characteristic of the jargon which envelopes modernist fanatics, and well illustrates the axiom that words were given us to conceal thought. Is not the woi'k of every acknowledged great composer “ founded upon the very nature of musical matter and auditory sensibility ” ? As well might one portentously announce that the law which governs the work of the painter is founded upon the very nature of pigmentary matter and visual sensibility! In penning the above little preamble it seems to me that Mr Ansermet, the writer, was actually offering an apology on behalf of Stravinsky ; otherwise why insist on premises which everyone takes for granted? In this case the joke is that Stravin-. sky is very far from being a great composer, inasmuch as ho is a complete stranger to “ musical matter,” and persistently outrages “ auditory sensibility.” * * • * But the joke only begins here. Stravinsky’s “ gramophone” apologist then proceeds; “Until his music becomes comprehensible and its harmonic scheme part and parcel of our musical consciousness, it gives the impression of being technically unnegotiable.” Too right it does, ami since it is never likely to become comprehensible—not to mention tolerable—it seems likely to remain, in the resthetio sense, unnegotiablc. 1 will go so far as to say that for humanity’s sake it ought to be stamped “ not negotiable.” Listen to more jargon from the apologist: “ In these three pieces of Stravinsky wo find all his characteristics displayed austerely. The stylo of eliminating the unessential has been pushed to its furtherest [we presume ho moans fnrtherst] limits, and a structure is revealed which, owing nothing to superimposed ideas [’cos there ain’t none] actually constitutes its own decorative scheme. We become absorbed !n fundamentals which are seen to be no more bare than an atom with its intricacies of electrons is bare.”!!! * * * • Making every allowance for its nuaint English, what on earth does all this grandiose rubbish mean? That is joke number two. There’s a whole page of this gammon and spinach about Stravinsky and his alleged music. Now comes the cream of the fun. The centre of the page is occupied by an inserted square paragraph in block type headed : “CATS AND STRAVINSKY.” The paragraph runs thus: “I have road with great interest your correspondent’s letter on the subject of feline appreciation of Stravinsky’s music. I have had similar experience with my own cats. At one time I possessed nine of these animals, who were completely

indifferent to nil music except Stravinsky’s. When the ‘ Saore du Printemps was played on the gramophone these cats went entirely mad; with ears laid back and tails lashing, they would lie on the floor growling, then spring at each other and roll about locked in each other’s paws like all-in wrestlers. Nor was it mere play; they were violent and savage, and quite lost their tempers. Normally these cats were gentle and loving, and no other music produced the least effect upon them.” In the light of the above it seems necessary to revise the poet’s estnnat concerning the power of music to soothe the savage beast—or was it “ breast r Evidently this music bad become definitely part and parcel of the cats musical consciousness—or can it be that the cats, owing nothing to superimposed ideas, were too absorbed in fundamentals to recognise auditory sensibility. I had an interesting description of the recent Eisteddfod at Sydney from Mr H. Temple White, the well-known Wellington musician,' who was one of the choral adjudicators in this festival. Ho told me that the comjietitions were on a gigantic scale—nearly 9,000 contestants, requiring 12 concert halls, and sessions lasting from 9 a.m. to nearly midnight daily for 10 days. _ It must have been a tremendous strain on the judges, for, apart from the physical endurance aspect, thfejr task was arduous in the extreme, as the recall system does not operate over there ; the winners have to be definitely selected at one hearing. The difficulty of this may be faintly imagined when we learn that in some sections there were over 50 entries. All told, Mr White had to judge some 600 voices, and he seems to have given complete satisfaction, both to participants and audiences. As for hospitality, it was on the royal scale, said ilr White, and when the work was ended the judges had the time of their lives, in the art of entertaining guests Australian hosts have nothing to learn.