THE ORCHESTRAL SOCIETY’S CONCERT.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2386, 25 November 1881, Page 4

THE ORCHESTRAL SOCIETY’S CONCERT.

The Orchestral Society last night gave so excellent a concert to a crowded audience 'that it is matter for regret that such a musical treat has not ere this been afforded to the Christchurch public. The orchestra was strong in instruments, there bsing five violins, two violas, two cellos, three basses, flute, oboe, olarionette, bassoon, three cornets, three horns, and one euphonium. The overtares selected were throe in number, viz., “ Masaniello,” “ Vestale,” and “ William Tell.” In all of these not only were the principal themes rendered with boldness and musical effect, but the finer and more delicate passages were brought out in marked relief, shewing not alone how thoroughly trained the orchestra are, but also that they are musicians in the fullest sense of the word. This was perhaps most noticeable in “William Tell ” which was grandly rendered. All were played in a manner deserving thehighcst credit to Mr Coombs and his confreres, and wo can only trust this is but the first of many similar enjoyable evenings. The vocal music was not quite so successful as could have been wished. This arose from two causes—first, that the piano was dreadfully out of tune, and, secondly, that the Gaiety is not one of the best buildings for singing in here. The ladies on the programme contributed the duet “Sainted Mother” from “ Maritana,” ‘‘Ernani Involami,” and, in response to an encore for the last, a ballad “ A Little Mountain Lad.” Mr Clayton played with much taste and success Bropsant’s “ Air Wane,” but, owing to the bad tone of the piano, some of the beat variations wore omitted. The same cause militated against the complete success of Mr Rowley’s flute solo, which was a fantasia by Clinton on the well-known air “The Merry Swiss Boy.” A set of valses by Gung’l, played with a verve and swing sufficient almost to induce an invalid to rush into the giddy whirl, and “The Echoes of Mont Blanc” polka concluded a very enjoyable concert, la the latter Mr R. W. Kohler played the cornet solo. But he was unable to keep still, and so during the rests for his cornet he manipulated the castanettos and silver bells in a way which showed he has by no means lost any of bis old cunning. It is stated that Mr Coombs leaves shortly for Dunedin to take up his permanent residence there. If so, musio in Christchurch will lose one of its most talented exponents as well as zealous enthusiasts. It is proposed to taka some means of showing Mr Coombs practically how much Christchurch people think of him, and their regret at his removal from amongst them.

to it daring the last three or four years, that many people fancy the “ craze,” as they term it, has only sprung up within the last decade or so ; but many among us can remember that wo always numbered among our friends women whose art-sense and knowledge of the beautiful prevented thiir blindly resigning themselves to the tyrannous dictates of “La Mode.” There were ladies, even in the most Philistine epoch of our times, would not wear a crinoline, or spoil the outline of the head by huge frieettes, distorting its curves and entirely destroying the proportions of the form. They loved the soft, heavy folds of Indian cashmere, wrought in delicate borders by the embroiderer’s hand ; the richness of velvet and plush and the dim delicacies of muslin unspoilt by starch ; their eyes were open to the mellow color of long ctrings of amber beads, rich oriental necklets of quaint device, &c. They recognised the value and beauty of all such things, and shrank from the gaudy extravagant ugliness and the hizarrerie without grace of the fashions of the Second Empire ; they turned to the noble and beautiful raiment they saw in pictures of a time when costume reached the dignity of an art j and they learnt the laws of drapery from Greek statues;

So, when such women as I have described mudo their drees according to their own artistic fancy, the artists they knew—often thoir fathers or husbands, lovers or brothers —wondered and approved and praised, and gave them strength to disregard the sneer they could see on many an acquaintance’s face, the good humored laughter or open remonstrance of friends, and even the conviction that every member of their female circle regarded them either as dowdies or frights ; whilst most men, seeing dresses simpler and freer in line, at once more sensible and graceful than those of tho mass of womankind, honored the reformers with lordly disapprobation. Still tho women whose text was, Being born as free as these, I will dress just as I please,

providing the laws of modesty and sense were observed, held thoir way in spito of laughter, contempt, and the prophecies that they would soon forego their “ fads and so vindicated their right to freedom by good taste and a refinement of color and fashion, which could but win favor from those who loved, and were prompt to recognise, beauty when they saw it.

Thinking over these things, it is rather amusing to hear damsels not yet past their fifth lustrums, gaunt with woefully dishevelled hair end scantily made raiment of dingy bricky pink or painfully strong ochre yellow, claim to be “one of the first people who dressed artistically.” As I heard this statement made the other day by a maiden whose creed may be thus summed up, “ There is but one Renaissance, and young Oxford is its Prophet,” my thoughts went back across the years to when I, as a child Of eight, saw for the first time her—as I thought then, and as I think now—a most beautiful woman. She stood on a sunlit lawn, “a daughter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair” —a Greek Helen in our English land; the fervour of an artist mingled with a wonderful yearning tenderness in her deep full eyes. It was the time of huge crinolines ; her dress (of dull olive velvet, if I remember rightly) fell in long, heavy, unbroken folds to her feet. Other women wore their hair twisted, and tortured, and puffed, and padded, and with pincushion chignons attached to the napes of their necks ; my beautiful lady’s abundant hair waa swept upwards in a graceful curve, and plaited in a heavy crown at the top of her head. With her memory before mo, as well as that of ladies much her elders, who had carried the art of beautiful dress to perfection, both in conception and detail, I wondered whether my decided young friend, whose dress was ugly in tint and ungraceful inline, really imagined herself an apostle of costume in the England of our own day.

More than half the so-called “ artistic ” dresses aro unsatisfactory, and so give excuse for the scorn of those who cling firmly to the oracle of the Rue de la Paix, and the scarcely inferior priests and priestesses whose rival shrines in honor of Fashion aro set up in Paris. Indeed, the contrast between a woman who frankly owns her allegiance to that great goddess, but who has a native good taste to guide her, and a so-called asithetic, is often to the disadvantage of the latter, even although ou many essential points of dress she may be right, and the former wrong. The reasons for authetio —misused word—raimentoften failing in its assumed aim are many, but among them may be noted lack of a clear idea, or presence of an idea badly or clumsily carried out, unfituees to the purpose or occasion for which the dress is worn; and over-strength, or general diogiueas of hue. The mistakes of construction that even advanced icithetes make in this matter of attire are, to use one of their pot words, quite pathetic. I have seen high Venetian collars surmounting Watteau plaits; close-fitting dresses girded tightly at the waist with baud or sash ; other high collars, over which fell heavily “roby” frills of lace j Ulsters buttoned with largo buttons, reproductions of Greek coins ; large puffs of a contrasting colour to the dress, put on at the shoulder, without any straps over them, to link bodice and sleeve, and thus convey to the mind the idea of an under-sleeve. Many similar errors occur to mo, which arise out of a certain wish to attain picturesqueneas or quaintnees of effect, without studying the laws and means by which these desirable ends may bo arrived, and are as bad aa many of the sins of the most fashionable milliner.

To do a Frenchwoman justice, there generally is a meanirg in her devices, however trivial the meaning may be, and she recognises not only the duty of fitness (her own ideal of that quality) of costume, but also that of freshness —a virtue which is, alas! often conspicuous by its absence from the attire of many an intense dame and damosel in those latter days. It is so very difficult to give an idea of what dangers to avoid, and what results to strive after, without going into detail, that I have planned to examine the various branches of costume severally, oven if slightly, instead of writing confusedly of the various articles of attire, jumbled together in the manner of Petruohio’s, Silken coats and caps, and golden rings, With ruffs and cuffs, and farthingales and things, With scarves and fans, and double changes of bravery, With amber bracelets, beads, and all this knavery. I must stay the consideration of the tailor’s “ milling treasure ” for a while, having only space this week to repeat that the first great thing is to be sure of the meaning of any piece of attire, be it gown or necklet, mantle or hat, shoe or fan. Examine its reasons, see that it answers the purpose for which it is designed ; and if any point in it bo entirely meaningless, be sure it is also entirely graceless, and “reform it altogether.’’