THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 23375, 19 September 1939, Page 12

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

Music gives tone to tbo universe; wings to the mind; (light to the imagination; a charm to sadness; gaiety aud life to everything.—Plato.

The war has, of course, completely put an entl to all hopes of musical celebrities touring New Zealand for a long time to come. Wc had looked forward to the possibility of hearing Artur Schnabel, the celebrated pianist, and Marcel Dupre, tbo great French organist—both of whom have just finished lengthy engagements in Australia. Even if the present international situation had not developed, our economic conditions would have precluded visits from overseas musicians, for the simple reason that nobody is allowed to take any money, worth mentioning, out of this country'. Wo were informed, some weeks ago, that Richard Crooks landed in Sydney with only four shilling in his pocket as the sole proceeds of his concerts in New Zealand. Moreover, Miss Fay Compton, the well-known actress who visited us not long ago, as soon as she returned to England issued a warning to artists generally on no account to include New Zealand in any touring itinerary. So that’s that. But, as I have said, the war automatically closes the lid on everything of the kind.

Marcel Dupre, from all accounts, has been electrifying audiences in the Commonwealth, not only by his renderings of organ compositions, but by his own marvellous improvisations. Lot me quote from a recent issue of the Australian ‘ Musical Nows “ The visit to Sydney of Marcel Dupre, most famous of living organists, will long be remembered here. Besides his brilliant playing of the usual repertory, the French master has demonstrated for us, with superb authority, a form of architectonic genius popularly believed to have died with Bach, Handel, and the greatest contemporaries of those giants. M. Dupre’s improvisations on themes handed up to him from leading Sydney musicians revealed an extraordinary mind as well as the powers of a supreme virtuoso. The seal broken in the presence of the audience, a few moments’ contemplation of the theme submitted, and the journey has begun—variations and finale ; prelude and toccata, or fugue; sometimes a chorale as well; or even the four movements of a work in symphonic form Everything is unfolded with amazing naturalness and musical propriety, and brought to a close with climaxes of cumulative brilliance These ‘ tours de force ’ aroused as much enthusiasm and excitement as anything done at the Dupre recitals ”

In this same connection I should like to reproduce a letter written to me by a Dunedin resident over five years ago, because I sadly fear I never acknowledged a most informative and interesting communication. Headed care C.P.0., Dunedin, February 24, 1934, this letter ran as follows:—■

‘‘l have recently read with great interest your article ‘ Is Improvisation a Lost Art?’ in the current number of ‘ Music In New Zealand.’ Among eminent organists who have this gift you mentioned Marcel Dupre. This organist toured Canada and U.S.A. in 1922, when I was over there after the war, and I heard him play in Vancouver, At the end of his scheduled programme he was given about 20 different themes by an usher who had collected them from prominent musicians in the city, who were then members of the audience. He glanced at these themes hurriedly, then selected four out of the number, and, after telling ns the names of their writers, he played them over to us.

“ He then proceeded, on the spur of the moment, to compose a full-length symphony, using one of the themes for each of the four movements. It was an astonishing and masterly performance, which held us all spellbound. I have often wished we could persuade one of the eminent English organists to visit New Zealand ; we get visits from great singers, pianists, etc., but not organists. I think I have heard all the modern organists you named in your ar-ticle-—except AV. H. Best; but as he was my mother’s teacher I could hardly be expected to have heard him!—Yours faithfully, W. Hopkins.”

The names alluded to by my correspondent included every organist of note with a real talent for extemporising at the instrument. But Mr Hopkins could* not have been in New Zealand in 1930, or he would surely have remembered the visit to Dunedin of Dr Edgar Ford, one of the finest organists ever heard in this country. I commented upon this artist and his singular ability to improvise, in my 1 Thoughts About Music ’ dated November 15, 1930. As this is a long time ago, perhaps the editor will permit me to resurrect two or three paragraphs from that article. Here they are;— “ The organ recital given at the Town Hall last week by Dr C. Edgar Ford was remarkable in two respects. One might say, in three—because Dr Galway’s courtesy in placing Dunedin’s fine instrument at the disposal of the distinguished visitor afforded a striking illustration of that spirit of chivalry and camaraderie which is not invariably in evidence in our musical life. In fact, the comparative rarity of this spirit is well epitomised in the following brief colloquy, alleged to have been overheard in a city tramcar:— “ She; ‘ I am ashamed of you; where is your chivalry?’ “ He; ‘ Sorry, but I traded it in for a Buick 1’ ”

“ But (continued my article) to return to Dr Ford. His programme was designed upon lines which Dr Galway has taught ns to expect—viz., originality and a general absence of hackneyed items. The recitalist went much further in this direction, introducing several numbers never heard here before; while at the end of the official concert the audience was treated to a performance that, in effect, bridged the gulf - of years and brought into the Town Hall the musical atmosphere of Europe in days long gone by. “ I refer to Dr Ford’s improvisations The art of composing and performing music simultaneously—extemporisation is the correct term—has apparently fallen into desuetude, at least as regards public displays of it. Indeed, I have often wondered whether there exist in these days many musicians who possess the faculty of genuine extempore playing. By ‘ genuine ’ I mean actually spontaneous composition in regular musical form —not merely a glib facility for more or less vague ‘ wanderings idly o’er the noisy keys ’ in search of the ‘ Lost Chord *: otherwise known professionally as ‘ vamping.’ In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries there lived a multitude of pianists and organists able, at a moment’s notice, to sit down and improvise any piece of music, from a fugue to a sonata. The groat masters of this art were Bach, Handel. Mozart, dementi. Beethoven, Hummel. Liszt, Chopin, Mendelssohn, etc., etc. More modern exponents have

been Cesar Franck, Saint-Saens, Marcel Dupre, Lemare, Alcock, W. H. Best, Alfred Hollins, and W. Wolstenholxne —the two last named being blind. All these men could produce easily and wtihout premeditation at the keyboard complex and difficult music such as one usually associates with long hours of absorption and concentration at the writing desk. The organ naturally lends itself more particularly to this branch of musical art, for all good church organists must of necessity cultivate an ability to provide ‘ voluntaries,’ to fill up the inevitable little gaps that occur during church services. . . . Dr Ford revealed himself as a profound exponent of this rare art. His success emboldens us to hope that others may aspire to follow the example, also that the cultivation of extempore playing may be encouraged by the establishment in future competitions festivals of a section devoted to such performances.”

Finally, I cannot resist quoting from an article written on the same subject by Saint-Saens, himself one of the greatest pianists and organists and improvisors who ever lived. About 20 years ago he wrote in the ‘ Musiacl Quarterly ’ as follows: “ Formerly extemporisation was the basis of the organist’s powers; his virtuosity was slight, but as a compensations his improvisations were often of the highest order. Gradually modern organists have acquired virtuosity which they once lacked, but at the same time the ability to improvise has waned and largely fallen into disrepute. “ It is impossible for me not to deplore this decadence. Without speaking from the resultant monotony—for all organists possess practically the same repertoire—l say emphatically that nothing but improvisation enables the organist to follow the services perfectly, because the pieces written for this purpose never fit properly, being always too short, too long, too slow', or too fast. Besides, the practice of improvisation develops faculties of invention which, -without it, would have remained latent.

“ Here I might say that I have known many organ and pianoforte composers whose improvisations were much superior to their writen compositions. Necessity, coupled with the inspiring character of a fine instrument and the exaltation of the moment, can sometimes accomplish what prolonged meditation is unable to achieve. . . . The most beautiful standard works are only beautiful in their rightful place. Organists frequently play things which are incongruous in a church service, and which, however lofty in themselves, are beyond the comprehension, and distasteful to the mood, of the average congregation. The church is not a concert hall, and nothing should be played in it that is out of harmony with its atmosphere of devotion and spiritual ecstasy. Therefore spontaneous music, befitting the occasion, should be the ideal of every church organist.” Of spontaneous music, both devotional and virtuosoical, Marcel Dupre is the greatest contemporary exponent, and it is most unfortunate that cirr cumstances prevent him from visiting New Zealand.