MUSICAL COURIER
April 27, 1 9 22
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replied: “They are an emotional race, they always metaphorically fight on the stage of a theater to a fine orchestral accompaniment.”
H H H
Wonderment seized at least one spectator at the Farrar furore, and it to'ok the shape of a puzzled question: "What has all this to do with opera as an art?”
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With Farrar’s going it is to be presumed that the operatic battle of bouquets in this town will cease—greatly to the regret of the florists.
H H H
Tchitcherin was the real virtuoso at the Genoa concert, with Lloyd George conducting and the French delegates beating the big bass drum and blowing their own trumpets.
H H H
Speaking of numbers, the World reports that 2,000 events are scheduled for New York’s Music Week (beginning next Sunday) and at the moment of writing we feel a solemn and sacred desire to attend all of them except the glee club affair of the Girl Scouts of Brooklyn on the steps of the Brooklyn Borough Hall, Saturday afternoon, May 6.
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The untaught song of birds, held up often as an example and reproach to human vocalists, is a snare and a delusion, according to the World of April 23. Read and learn:
London, April 12.—A singular but interesting profession is that of the man who teaches canary birds to sing.
Such schools are found in various parts of Yorkshire and Lancashire and are well patronized, for, contrary to general belief, the untrained canary is rarely a good songster. The fault with untrained birds is that they attempt to imitate every sound they hear and frequently spoil their natural song. At school they are taught to reproduce perfectly certain notes produced by a “bird organ,” a contrivance something like a barrel organ, and one note must be mastered before another is learned.
The preliminary course may cover four or five weeks, then the promising pupils are separated from the backward ones, and exceptionally talented birds are given a special tutor who whistles to them to play tunes on the flute or flageolet.
The ideal training gives the bird four distinct notes— the water note, which, as the name implies, is a rippling gurgle like the murmuring of a rill; the *whistling note, the flute note and the rolling note, which is a continuous melody, splendidly rising and falling.
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Melos will not be wanting in this town next season, with “Rosenkavalier” and “Meistersinger” slated for a revival at the Metropolitan. However, opera glasses should be kept in repair, too, for whispers have it that Jeritza will open the season, November 13, in “Thais.”
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MR. DAMROSCH AND THE CLAQUE To the Editor of the World:
The notorious after dinner address of Mr. Walter Dam-rosch, supposedly in honor of Mr. Mengelberg, is responsible for reviving the subject of the claque. It is all very stale; the claque, like the poor, always ye have with you, because there will ever be stupid, second rate artists.
The claque, Mr. Damrosch’s red herring, is not worth talking about, but why the thick editorial silence on the execrable taste of one who, invited to honor a departing colleague, misused the occasion by enigmatic references which could only be interpreted as an insult to the guest of the evening?
Tell us, Mr. Damrosch, which “guest conductor” employed a claque? There were only two of importance besides Mr. Mengelberg, measuring importance by the duration of their activities here:	Mr. Coates was your own
importation, hence it is unlikely that you alluded to him, and Richard Strauss, the enthusiasm for whom precludes the notion that you meant him.
There are many ways of hurting a man without hurling a brick; one is to make insinuations which affect his good name yet are so cunningly indefinite as to make defense impossible; another is to throw mud at his friends from a safely protected place. The chivalrous Damrosch did both. In the presence of Mengelberg he referred to the contemptible practice of some guest conductors, and permitted the diners, by elimination, to infer that he meant Mengelberg. Then he aspersed the character of Dr. Muck (“despicable” or “detestable” was the word I am told he used), who substituted for Mr. Mengelberg during the latter’s absence from Amsterdam, presumably by his choice. I do not know Df. Muck personally but I do know of the five year old back-stairs gossip with which Mr. Damrosch sniped a tragic figure, a conspicuous victim of our war hysteria, who gave an example of dignity which was wasted on his present detractor.
Why did nobody at the farewell dinner apologize for Mr. Damrosch’s boorishness and explain to Mr. Mengelberg that, though American manners may be rough, American treatment of strangers is almost always courteous? (Gorky is one of the exceptions that prove the rule.) Why did no newspaper protest against the outrageous performance, which had not even the excuse of being uttered under mental stress, for it is said that Mr. Damrosch prepared copies of his address for the reporters ?
B. W. Huebsch.
New York, April 19.
In German, the word “Huebsch” means “pretty,‘־ but Mr. Huebsch’s letter is not pretty even though it palpably is sincere. On one count in his indict-
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VARIATIONETTES
By the Editor-in-Chief
the wooden handed applause of the international claque. Every clapping box would supply at will an applause equivalent to the noise of 250 Italian, Spanish or Russian hands with the perfect ensemble and regularity of a German claque. There would 1be applause of 100, 75 or 50 hands down to the timid demonstration of some relative or friend for a small part artist.
The applause could be controlled by the stage director, Mr. Viviani, who takes care of the several different necessary noises during the performance, i. e., thunder storms, pistol or cannon shots, winds, etc. The conductor could direct intelligently the volume and the intensity of the applause, indicating the number of hands, etc., following the score and giving the signal when to start, to make a crescendo or to stop. The artist should apply for so much applause, number of curtain calls, etc., to Mr. Gatti-Casazza, who would O.K. or object as the case might be.
The electric clapping box will be welcome from all sides. The management will have more room left for standees who pay and the Health Bureau will be very much gratified at the much needed purification of the air from the bouquet of international perspiration as a prevention against musical • infections. Your good friend,
(Signed) A. Buzzi-Peccia.
H H H
It may be merry for the organist of the Strand Theater to “rag” and “jazz” the exquisitely sad “Aase’s Death” from Grieg’s “Peer Gynt,” but to at least one hearer the proceeding seemed to be not in the best possible musical taste.
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This column has told so often how sadly the daily newspapers of our land neglect music at the expense of sensational “news” and “human interest” items, that it is a matter of simple justice (and also of real pleasure) to record here what the Milwaukee journals are doing these days for our much neglected tonal art. The city intends to give a summer season of light opera, subventioned by municipal funds, and sponsored by the musicians, the civic and business associations and the individual prominent merchants and professional men and women of Milwaukee. The public of that city is greeted each morning and evening now with columns of advance notices, editorials, pictures, and special “boosts” of all kinds, as propaganda for the operatic enterprise and stimulation for its enthusiastic support. Congratulations to Milwaukee, and here’s hoping that it will succeed in duplicating or even eclipsing the success made by municipal opera in St. Louis. These first modest but practical attempts may be the real beginning of a general movement on the part of all the large American cities ultimately to establish permanent grand opera companies with municipal financing and executive supervision.
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Only four performances in English were given at the Metropolitan this season, not counting the curtain speeches of Jeritza and Farrar at their farewell appearances.
H H H
Of an extraordinary character was the reception extended by a large part of the audience to Mme. Farrar on the occasion of her very last performance at the Metropolitan, when a Saturday afternoon host of hearers filled the house to bid the prima donna farewell and—one slyly suspects—to see the doings of the group of ultra enthusiasts who always seemed to lead the Farrar demonstrations, especially the throwing of bouquets, the encouraging shouts, and the hubbub about the stage door after the performances of their favorite. In addition to those customary practices, the tributes at the farewell included also the waving of many flags emblazoned with the word “Farrar,” and the breaking out of a huge banner, stretching from one side of the house to the other and held by ropes in the hands of young persons in the balconies. The banner, all of white, was decorated with the text, “Hurrah for Farrar.” The tumult reached formidable proportions after each act and when the final curtain fell it was inevitable for the feted songstress to make a speech. She thanked the throng in graceful words, and referring to her future artistic activities, intimated strongly that she might appear upon the speaking stage, under the management of David Belasco. When Mme. Farrar told her auditors that it was necessary to clear the house so that preparations for the evening performance could be made and the company’s departure for Atlanta hastened, the kindly cohorts of applauders consented to leave the auditorium, and a few moments later it was in darkness and the career of Geraldine Farrar on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House was at an end.
H *. H
A New York American correspondent interviewed Crown Prince Frederick in Holland recently. Asked about the martial qualities of the French, he
At a salon musicale the other evening, Lazar Samoiloff, who had charge of the music, said to the chattering guests: “Ladies and gentlemen, I beg of you, silence, if you please. You know the old saying ‘Music begins where speech ends.’ ”
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Wall Street is twanging its seductive lyre again and singing its luring song of easy dollars to be made in a day. Already we have heard several musicians boasting of their recent profits. Of course they will lose their gains in the end and everything else beside if they stay in Wall Street long enough. We give this word of warning periodically but are skeptical about its efficacy. Musical artists are proverbially eager to woo the dangerous goddess of chance. The strange thing about it all is that while they recklessly risk money on things they know nothing about, they hardly ever take financial chances on what they really do know and know well. Very few artists invest in their own business. They leave that to the impresarios.
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In Italy, a white handerkerchief fluttering from a window means “rooms for rent.” In this country it often means that some foreign opera singer, male or female, is trying to save a laundry bill.
H H H
“Encouraged by a review of the new book, ‘A Musical Pilgrim’s Progress,’ I asked for a copy at a bookshop. The clerk looked at me blankly for a moment and moved away to consult her colleagues. After they had debated the point with no little heat she returned. ‘We have the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” but we haven’t it set to music,’ she announced, blandly.”—The Manchester (England) Guardian.
H H H
A fellow after our own heart is the chap who wrote in the London Morning Post about a singer who did not begin his recital with an “old airs” group: “It was relief beyond words to escape the half-hour of gloomy preoccupation with old Italian commonplace which passes for the correct thing.” H H H
“Who Was England’s First Poet Laureate?” asks the_ New York Times Book Review of April 16. It is much more important to know who will be England’s last Poet Laureate, and when the silly habit of selecting a champion of verse shall end. Just as meaningless is the English custom of making a successful composer a “Sir.” Nearly always it seems to hamper the flow of musical inspiration. For instance, Elgar wrote better music when he was plain “Mr.” than since he has become “Sir.” By the way, who is the present Poet Laureate of Eng-
Samoiloff is not the only singing teacher with a sense of humor, as the attached will prove:
New York, April 17, 1922.
My dear Mr. Liebling:
I have read Mr. Damrosch’s complaint about the Claque at the Metropolitan Opera House and see that Mr. Otto Kahn as well as Mr. Gatti-Casazza would be happy if some one would suggest a way to be rid of it. However, at the same time, the artists must not be deprived of the great satisfaction of being applauded—and, many times, over-’ applauded. They love it so much, and they would enjoy applause after almost every phrase, after each B or C they emit during the performance. They must have so many curtain calls—at least as many as her or his. rival has had. If one artist gets a call or two more than another there is trouble in the artistic air. It would be a crime to take the calls away. And besides, there would be trouble, too, with the management.
It is true that the American public is not as demonstrative as the artists would like it to be. But we must consider the American audiences from a different angle than the European in regard to applause. In America the ticket gives the right to see the performance and to applaud when one wishes to, but (here comes the hub of the question) it doesn’t give the right to disapprove what one does not like! Any one in the audience who demonstrates his disapproval would be put out of the theater and arrested for disorderly conduct. So the public feels instinctively that if it hasn’t the right to disapprove that which hurts its artistic feelings or musical ears, it is not its duty to oblige the singers by applauding all the time.
Look at the football game, where the good American public is allowed to express its opinion in both ways, and you will see the great difference.
But I believe that I have discovered the way to make everybody happy at the Metropolitan Opera House, the management, the public and the artists as well, by the’ substitution of a scientific electric claque to replace the vulgar hired one. One has simply to place around the theater, on the balcony, dress circle, here and there in a few boxes, electric batteries which will supply a perfect imitation of