MUSICAL COURIER
14	MUSICAL COURIER
A VISITOR GHATS BREEZILY
ABOUT THE LONDON SEASON
By W. P. Bigelow
February 2, 1922
would bestow upon some marvelous phenomenon, like an honest plumber or a self-feeding baby.
Banish Lethargy.
This may all be conjecture; perhaps a little bitter scrapping on both sides would at least reveal what the public really does think about such works as “Le Sacré du Printemps.” What is the use of writing music like that if nobody objects to it? Why not either hisses or glove-splitting applause? Let’s have some sign of life! Anything except this uncritical, clam-like calm ! Let’s either be shocked or pleased. ' Let’s show that we know good music when we hear it.
If fidgeting rhythms, whole bunches of keys, intentional ugliness and insistent incoherency annoy and outrage us, let’s say so freely, openly and loudly; and is that not precisely what our above mentioned eminent musician—be he right or wrong—has done when he says, “The modern English school is merely grovelling in ugliness.” He, at least, has said something definite.
An Indefatigable Worker.
An indefatigable worker—let young artists take notice— is Eugene Goossens, who yesterday evening concluded a series of concerts, whose programs have been remarkable for the way in which they have featured the tendencies and achievements of this music under discussion. This is the tale! Wednesday last he had, in the morning, a rehearsal of his evening concert. In the afternoon he conducted a brilliant performance of “The Sleeping Princess” at the Alhambra. In the evening he directed his orchestral concert at Queen’s Hall, a very trying program containing three new works, one very unfamiliar and two others somewhat so, I sometimes wonder what this talented young man really thinks of some of the weirdities he conducts so ably. As one of the audience, I harbor the suspicion that we were applauding something other than the music.
Sorrentino with Caruso Chorus in Detroit
Umberto Sorrentino was asked to suggest something in line with the intent of the Caruso Memorial Foundation, whereupon he wired Detroit friends, who at once organized the Caruso Choral Society of ISO singers, and it will give its first concert February 4, in Symphony Hall, Detroit, with Sorrentino as soloist.
Walker Sisters Give Concert
Louise Walker, coloratura soprano, and Marguerite Walker, violinist, appeared in concert in Baltimore, Md., on the evening of November 25. An interesting program was arranged by- the two artists, both of whom were compelled to add encores.
Three Dates for Idis Lazar
Idis Lazar played for the Tuesday Musical Club of Akron, Ohio, on January 24, after which she appeared at Northfield, Minn., on January 27, at Carleton College, and on February 1 will appear in St. Paul, Minn.
school of composition, which, according to an eminent musician not a thousand miles away from New York, “is merely grovelling in ugliness.” Be that as it may, the exponents of this school have evidently adopted as their motto the famous saying of Richard Wagner: “Kinder, macht etwas Neues.” Whether their “Neues” is the “Neues” Wagner had in mind we must leave posterity to judge. They have no lack of faith in themselves, it would seem. A clipping recently came into my hands entitled “London Leads in Music.” In support of this modest claim the writer instanced the fact that no country today could boast of such a list of contemporary composers as Holst, Ireland, ax, Vaughan-Williams, Cyril Scott and others.
In course of reading the other day I came across a passage (it referred to the time of Palestrina) like this: “Caring no more for harmonic effects than for symmetry of form, too many writers were perfectly satisfied with their work so long as they could make it more difficult to understand than that of their predecessors.”
Hasty Judgment.
With voices like this out of the past to warn, at least, if not to guide us, it would seem the part of wisdom to refrain from too hasty a condemnation of a well-defined school or cult, and to leave to future generations the task of passing final judgment upon the works themselves. That such a judgment will be a just one is beyond all doubt. That which is true and beautiful in art is imperishable, for it has the power in itself to survive all possible changes in fad, fashion and taste; and, by the same token, that which is insincere and ugly, will inevitably sink into deserved oblivion.
This all sounds trite and cautious, if not cowardly, to the champions of these ultramoderns; according to them the same thing is now happening that has always happened in music and, they say, you are simply taking to cover lest you should be found as foolish as those who decried Wagner and Beethoven in their time. Therefore, they say, you should acquire a taste for these latter day works as soon as possible; which remind me, somehow, of Mark Twain’s famous question, “Would you deliberately advise me to get used to a toothache in the pit of my stomach?” While in the throes of aural travail the other evening, I found myself wondering if there were possibly any composers of the present day, barring Strauss and Tschai-kowsky, whose music can be said to occupy the same place in the public mind as did that of Wagner and Brahms when they were new and novel in respect to Beethoven and Mozart.
The public listens quite respectfully, but with no great degree of enthusiasm, and even among the professed admirers of the school, it is seldom that one finds anything more than a sort of chastened approbation such as one
London, January 1, 1922.—According to an official concert guide. 79 concerts were announced for October and 111 for November. I.have not seen the figures for December, but doubtless the number is still greater, since organizations which up to date have been rehearsing are now scheduling their concerts. These figures do not include any opera, any orchestral concerts, any military, park, college, benefit, church or occasional concerts; they do include recitals and concerts given by artists like Hofmann, Thi-baud, Rosenthal and Tetrazzini—who have “arrived”— down through those who are arriving, to those who will always simply aspire to arrive.
Of operatic organizations there are four—the Royal Carl Rosa Opera Company at Covent Garden, the Gilbert and Sullivan at Princes Theater, the Old "Vic. (twice a week) and “The Beggar’s Opera” at the Lyric, Hammersmith. None of these can be called “grand” opera in any sense of the word and only the last named, “The Beggar’s Opera,” can be called good, and this is indeed more than good, for in spite of the somewhat coarse text and the grimy atmosphere in which the action takes place it is daintily and faultlessly given, and in my opinion is the best and most “British” thing in London today.
Fortunately it is unnecessary for an alien to perform the ungracious task of commenting on post-war operatic undertakings in England, for the very simple reason that their own writers “beat us to it.” Suffice it to say that neither the Carl Rosa company nor the Gilbert and Sullivan productions are what one would naturally expect to find in a city like London. It is commonly asserted .that London is too poor to support first class opera. But surely poverty cannot explain the conspicuous lack of good native voices any more than riches can account for the large number of good voices in the United States. There must be some other factor in the problem. I, for one, have a different explanation. Having frozen and choked alternately here for a month I am inclined to think that climate and damp, vault-like houses are potent factors in defining the vocal and artistic possibilities of the British race. It is surely a fair question to ask if Mr. or Miss ’Awkins can bring to an audience, voice, technic or temperament, when choked with sooty fog or congealed with cold, or both. Were I a sketch artist I would certainly draw and perhaps send you the picture of a whole orchestra rubbing and slapping its red, cold hands just before going on the stage
Rosenthal seems to have successfully surmounted the climatic frigidity and fumes (I wish I knew his domicile), but Kreisler, so the suffering critic sitting next to me said, “did n-n-not seem to be at his be-be-best.”
Grovelling in Ugliness.
Fog, fumes and frigidity do not seem, however, to have choked or frozen the activities of the so-called English
Margery MAXWELL
Leading Soprano Chicago Opera Association
Now appearing at the Manhattan Opera House
New York
Will at the close of season make an extensive
concert tour
A limited number of dates still available
Management: Harry and Arthur Culbertson
Aeolian Hall	4832 Dorchester Ave.
New York City	Chicago