Albert Ketelbey tells how fame and fortune were found ln a Monastery Garden

Radio Record, Volume IV, Issue 35, 13 March 1931, Page 3

Albert Ketelbey tells how fame and fortune were found ln a Monastery Garden

On March 19 the Commercial Travellers’ and Warehousemen’s Orchestra will present from 2YA a special concert entitled "A Night with Ketelbey.". Probably the most famous of this composer's works is "In a Monastery Garden," and in the accompanying article Albert Ketelbey himself gives away the secret of how it came to be composed.

HEN I was a boy I had 2 strong inclination to become a monk, or, alternatively, a sailor, voyaging (by preference) to Eastern lands. There are nasty people about who, no doubt, devoutly wish I had become

anything. but what I am, for then I might not have inflicted on their quivering nerves In a Monastery Garden, or In a Persian Market; but not caring a brass farthing for Masty people’s nerves, I resolutely resisted the youthful inclinations to retire to a cloister, or to'go and get drowned, and decided instead, to become something really bad, namely, a "popular" composer. I started by composing, at first, little ‘things such as a Sonata for Violin and Piano, a Sonata for Piano Solo, a Concerto for Piano and Orchestra, a String Quartet, a Quintet for Piano and Woodwind, a Dramatic Overture for full orchestra, etc., and I even ventured gingerly into the exciting domain of grand opera (during which period I developed into a very Fregoli of many voices). . Then I had the temerity to try to sell ¥o of these little efforts to publishers, as ound it unfortunately necessary to live "after a time) unaided. "Je n’en vois pas la necessité," says the nasty person, but I never did care what nasty people said, so I persisted in going on living (or trying to) and making myself into a popular composer, by endeavouring to sell. my Concerto and Sonatas, etc., to suspicious publishers, whom I tried to hoodwink by enlarging upon the melodious character of my "second subjects." [ stuck it for quite a long time (several years, in fact), but no! either my beloved "second subjects" were too melodious, or they were not melodious enough, and there was "nothin’ doin’"; neither popularity nor a decent living seemed to lie this way for me, and I began to wonder whether I should ever have anything better for dinner than a cold sausage and a eup of coffee, and

whether I was to be condemned for ever to share the third floor back of an apartment house with ladies who very plainly loathed my French-horn playing, so that I was eventually compelled to practise this (for beginners) doleful instrument on the roof. But, lo! and behold, one fine day I had a bright idea; I took one of my melodious "second subjects" bodily out of its natal surroundings and dressed it up as a "Something in Z Minor’-the miracle happened, I got it published, and the publisher actually sold quite a niee number of copies on which, however, he had successfully resisted. the temptation to pay me a royalty. Still, it was a beginning; I began to see the faint dawning light

. . . Just the thing for a nice little river scene in a music-hall sketch... . of a possible popularity, and I was encouraged to go on murdering my innocents and pay my way instead of having to borrow fivers from trusting acquaintances. In due course I lost all sense of shame and boldly chopped off whole limbs of my poor children without a blush or the tremor of an eyelid, and what was once a tragic theme in a dramatic overture became a sweef little thing for "pianists with small hands." Having now tasted blood my appetite grew by what it fed on, and I began to searchyes, actually search-for ‘despicable opportunities of becoming popular. I FOUND that the slow movement from a String Quartet, for. instance, was just the thing for a nice little river scene in a musichall sketch-certainly the musical director of ' the musical-hall, good fellow, seemed to suspect something, for he said: "This is rather above the average of the stuff we get hereg

you really ought to try and write some serious work." I thanked him cordially for his encouraging words-and laughed in my sleeve. . About this time a friend of mine was conducting at a Yorkshire resort,.and he had asked me to compose for his orchestra a special "exclusive number"; he had rather a flair for spotting "winners," and I -think he suspected that I was threatened with popularity, and also that if he had a tuneful piece that no other orchestra was playing, it would give him a "pull" in the scramble for re-engagement. DURING a week-end visit I paid him, we went for a motor-car trip, and en route we stopped at a beautiful monastery, or priory. The day was glorious, the birds were singing, the whole place was bathed in sunshine and serenity, and the picture made a vivid impression on my mind, so that when I got home again it occurred to me that the beautiful monastery garden I had seen would form a very appropriate and probably inspiring theme for the "exclusive" piece I had promised to write for my friend. I therefore tried to put into simple melodious form my own impression of the scene, and, for the moment at least, became the "poet lost in reverie in the quietude of the monastery garden." The piece was completed in due course, and obviously had to be entitled In a Monastery Garden. I sent it to my friend, who played it and reported "great success." I was myself rather about this great success; I had heard so many pieces so described that I did not attach much importance to the friendly verdict. | However, my friend played it again the next season, and yet again the season after that, always

reporting "great success," but (very artfully) advising me net to publish it, After a while, however, I began to receive inquiries fr o m publishers with regard to publishing it. The first (Continued on tage @).),

In a Monastery Garden Programme Features

(Continued from page 8.) one suggested he would like to do it as a "waltz," but as I could not imagine monks waltzing in a monastery garden, I said, "No, thank you," and departed without the expected advance "on account of royalty." The next publisher suggested that he would like to do it if I would cut out the "Kyrie" part, which he was sure would ruin any chances of popu‘larity the piece might have. To omit this section seemed to me to savour of "Hamlet" without the Prince of Denmark, so I regretfully again said "No, thank you," and again departed empty-handed. Then, after a while the present publisher of "In a Monastery Garden" got in touch with me, and as he did not suggest putting in a cake-walk instead of the "Kyrie" we came to terms and the piece was at long last published in the form I had written it. My friend’s verdict, in due course, was thoroughly verified and the piece became one of the best-hated (or best loved-as you will)-and "best sellers," and I passed from the doubtful position of a "promising musician" to that of a "successful composer }"

(Continued from page 19.) In the evening 2YA will relay from the Concert Chamber of the Town Hall a concert to be given by the Wellington Apollo Singers under Mr, H, Temple-White. The major portion of the programme will b vocal, and includes a number of choruses and quartet items, Miss Ava>Symons, violinist, will be heard in solos: "ist and 2nd Movements of Sonata in G Minor," by Tartini, "Canto Amoroso" by SammartiniElman, and "Variations on a Theme by Corelli" by Kreisler. Mr. Ernest Jenner, A.R.A.M. (pianist) will play "Two Studies" Op. 46, Nos..6 and 8 by York Bowen, From 10 till 11 p.m. dance music will be broadcast. The session will conclude with the sporting summary at 11 p.m. From 3YA A NEW Hawaiian instrumental quartete consisting of three steel guitars and a banjo-uke will contribute to the variety. programme this even-\ ing. Also on the programme will be Mr, Jock Lockhart (Scottish humorist), the Rose and Thistle Duo in cabaret songs at the piano with banjoIele, and Miss Aileen Warren (pian-