DRAWING-BOOM MUSIC.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXX, Issue 4559, 30 October 1875, Page 1 (Supplement)

DRAWING-BOOM MUSIC.

(From the Saturday Review.) The exigencies of society, which demand that when people are assembled together for the space of a few hours in the relation of host and guest they must keep up a show of being interested or amused, arc mercifully supported by the existence of music. The English have not, as a rule, the gift of conversation which at a French party makes all extraneous or imported forms of amusement unnecessary ; one will hardly ever find in an English drawingroom that kind of pleasant river of talk, filled by auxiliary streams that flow into it without disturbing its bright current, which is a feature of French society. The state of conversation at an English assembly for social purposes might rather be said to resemble a collection of stagnant pools, whose waters require some such violent means as the throwing of a stone to rouse their surface into a semblance of activity. And music is the stone which comes most readily to hand. It is curious that an art should be turned to a use entirely opposed to its original object; that, being designed to make people listen, it should be employed to make them talk ; but undoubtedly music is constantly relied upon as an instrument for this effect, and generally with success. As the person chosen to break the spell of silence frequently suffers from shyness or nervousness, an optimist might imagine that the general chatter which immediately drowns his or her efforts was caused by kindness of heart, and was intended to save the suffering caused by the performer’s consciousness of becoming an object of attention. But as the same result follows when the performer is neither nervous nor shy, and is worth hearing, it must be supposed that the people who burst into talk like machines set working by the keys of the piano are moved by the mere sympathy with noise which leads parrots to chatter and whistle under the same circumstances. When the person selected to awaken the slumbering faculties of a company in this way has a real love for the art in which he dabbles, the suffering endured by him must be intense, and it is attended by a host of minor torments. For instance, he may be asked to sing, and be unable to play his own accompaniment. A volunteer, generally a lady, is found “ who will do her best, but really plays so badly unless she knows the music well.” That she does know it well is seldom the case, but the singer, for fear of seeming ungracious or self-important, is obliged to accept the proffered service thankfully. It may be that the aocompanyist afflicted with a nervousness equal to or greater than his own, and perceiving that he is nervous, straightway assimilates his terror, and so gives back a fresh impulse of agitation to him. In this case, although the affair has some resemblance to the blind leading the blind, the two people most interested in it have at least the comfort of being fellow-sufferers, and may find consolation in comparing notes upon their feelings and joining in contempt for those who have no knowledge of their woes or appreciation of their efforts. But it may be that the accompanyist is not nervous, but is filled with a sense of duty, admirable in itself but disastrous in its consequences, which leads her to play straight through the music before her as though it were an exercise for the piano, without halting a moment in her career or otherwise taking note of the singer’s existence. In this case there is no comfort or escape for him ; his only resource is to accept the reversed order of things suggested, to subordinate himself to the neeus wt the moment, and accompany the piano instead eLbeing accompanied by it. Or, again, although not nemcio tnunwr, nc-iu-j----become the cause of nervousness in others; the player who accompanies him may be forced into that position by knowing that she is the only person with any qualification for it, however small. She may play each note with a dread that the next will be wrong, which in course of time will overmaster her, turning her head into a phantasmagoria where notes shift with endless confusion, and her fingers into things of a woollen consistency without force or feeling. If the singer manages to maintain his presence of mind under these trying circumstances, he may, by a rapid dexterity, omit several bars and bring the song to a conclusion without the catastrophe of a breakdown. But in any case he will bo overwhelmed with remorse for the suffering which he has caused to an innocent being who was happy before he became the means of throwing a gloom over her evening. These are some of the misfortunes to which amateurs are liable. ...

For want of judgment, however, on the part of those who listen to music in drawing-rooms, considerable excuse may be found in the kind of music which they are often condemned to hear. Among the many rare gifts which seem to be nowadays considered common to the greater part of the world that of musical excellence is not omitted. . . . For the many attempts at playing by those who have no touch, and at singing by those who have no ear, the system of education which teaches children a certain set of things without any reference to their individual capacity for them is in great "measure responsible. But the worst specimens of musicical iucompeteucy which may be heard in drawingrooms are due to the want of perception and the vanity of those who exhibit the specimens. There are many men and women who might sing or play agreeably if they would confine themselves to things within their powers; but vaulting ambition carries them pell-mell into the dangers of difficult music which can only be encountered successfully after years of study and practice, and makes of the struggles which, it is to be hoped, are more palnfu to their hearers than themselves, a terrible warning.