THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 24282, 25 August 1942, Page 4

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.] Can people who are not naturally musical be made to understand and appreciate good music? This question has often been put to me, and it is one which 1 cannot answer positively one way or the other, despite a long experience both as practical musician and as a musical journalist. The chief reason why I am unable to decide definitely is that every now and then I meet with examples of musical “ heathen ” who have seen the error of their ways and have become apparently “ converted.” These, however, are few and far between, and might, therefore, be regarded as the exceptions that prove the rule. But I have always considered that maxim as idiotic, for, in my opinion, exceptions disprove a rule—in other words, there cannot exist a “rule” that admits of exceptions: the ■phrase is self-contradictory.

1 do not forget that in this column I have more than once advanced the argument that one lias to be born musical in order to be musical—and by that adjective I refer equally to those who eventually become active- musicians and those whose lot in life is merely to listen. Intelligent listening requires a good deal of musical talent. Can this be cultivated unless some of it is already latent at birth? That is the crux of the whole matter. On the face of it, Nature replies “ No.” Nothing can bo raised from the soil without seed. But it is surprising what will sometimes grow unexpectedly out of the most barrenlooking ground after persistent watering and manuring. And after all, it may be argued, seed has to be sown, even though it be dropped fortuitously by bird, insect, wind —or broadcasting.

There are undoubtedly millions of people in the world wiiose ears may be regaled with the best music for hours at a time every day of their lives, without the slightest effect; this lias been proved by the widely-spread habit of turning on the wireless all day long, resulting in hearing without listening. Good music, to such people, is like water on a duck’s back; it doesn’t really matter, in fact, what sort of music is broadcast in these conditions. But occasionally, by accident, more or less, one such hearer may be brought to turn an attentive ear to the flood of harmony, and is perhaps surprised to find therein something hitherto unsuspected. When this happens as the result of reading the exhortations of a columnist like myself there is naturally a feeling of satisfaction in the breast of the writer. Not long ago I had a letter from a correspondent whose attention, he said, had been turned to worthwhile music solely through a chance perusal of this column.

Ifc is fairly well known by this time—at least I have frequently heard it alleged—that cows yield more milk if the milking process be performed to a musical accompaniment. The point that I am not clear about, however, is concerned with the Duality of the music thus commandeered. Docs any kind of tuneful sound increase lactation, or is the precious fluid influenced in its flow by the character of the harmony poured into the cows’ ears? A knotty problem, this, and no mere idle speculation either. The theory is now being tested on human beings—that is to say, there are factories where hundreds of employees are being subjected to a precisely similar experiment; their daily output is stimulated by regular doses of harmonic injection, and. if report spchks truly, the results are gratifying to the various managements concerned. But here again we are told nothing of the kind of music that figures in the tests, and this may provoke disturbing thoughts.

The vast majority of men in authority—whether they be cinema managers, members of Parliament, company directors, or factory controllers—seem to have one failing in common —viz., they are apt to judge all their employees by their own standard of taste, which usually is pretty low. It is a safe assumption, therefore, that if a factory boss gets into his head the idea thqt

broadcast music will increase the capacity of his workers, the music he selects will be of the lowest and cheapest type. He overlooks the fact that amongst a crowd of hundreds of toilers, perhaps, there is bound to be a certain percentage to whom the perpetual jazz racket is an intellectual nightmare—or, rather, day-horse. Strange as it may seem, there are many workers who resent having these discordant noises inflicted upop them, and whose output, ill consequence, is affected in exactly the opposite direction desired. I have good reason to know that this is actually the case in several large factories, so hope these words may catch the managerial eye.