MUSIC.
MUSIC, SOCIETY, AND FINANCE.
Ix a very interesting article on "Architecture in English History" in the current number of the Cornhill Mr. Kenneth Bell commits himself to some disputable propositions on the relation of art and the social system. After describing archi- tecture as the most mediaeval of the arts, he continues :—
"The mediaeval cathedral is the embodiment of its age even more fully than is the Elizabethan drama or the painting of fifteenth-century Italy. These products of a later day rule over a more divided kingdom, life has become more complex, other interests, other means of self-expression, contest this supremacy, and, most important of all, society has split up into strata, and only those near the top can share to the full the creative impulses of each period. The enjoyment of a refined taste and the power of expressing it in a genuine style have become more and more, as modern history has progressed, the monopoly of the few. We who condemn Aristotle's assumption that some men are born slaves, ourselves live under conditions which exclude all but a small proportion of mankind from the full current of national life."
How far these remarks are justifiable in the case of painting or letters it is not our purpose to inquire, but at least a good case can be made out for the contention that in the domain of music "the infinite gradations of social standing" have long ceased to form an effectual barrier against the self-assertion of genius. The question of finance is undoubtedly a serious consideration, as the cost of producing the most important musical compositions grows greater every year. Apart from this, music, as we know it, is eminently a democratic art, in which the most resounding successes have been achieved by men of the most humble origin. Even in the days when patronage was extended, as in the case of Mozart, in its most odious and insolent form, musicians were not debarred by their lack of social distinction from expressing themselves "in a genuine style" or gaining recognition for their achievements. Haydn was in a sense the pensioner of the Esterhazys, but that did not prevent him from being "the father of the symphony." But the power of musical genius to transcend all social barriers was never so conspicuously manifested as in the case of Beethoven. There never was a more exclusive aristocracy than that of Vienna, yet Beethoven, a man of lowly parentage, consorted with its most exalted representatives on terms of intimacy and equality. Indeed, the conditions were often inverted, as his letterEr show. They Paid homage to his talent, and he treated them cavalierly, brusquely, often rudely. Weber was a man of rank and Mendels-. sohn a man of fortune, but the democratic tendency inaugurated by Beethoven received no set-back, and has been maintained right up to the present day. With very few exceptions, the great foreign composers of the nineteenth century have been the sons of poor men, and, once they gained a hearing, that fact never interfered with their prestige. Dvorak was the son of a pork-
butcher. We cannot recall at the moment any baker's son litho has achieved eminence in music, but Verdi's father, who kept a small osteria and grocer's shop, at any rats sold -candles, if he was not a candlestick-maker. Schubert's bourgeois appearance and origin have actually been con- sidered by some fastidious critics—the Lord Crewes of the musical world—to be reflected in his music. Wagner and Brahma, poles apart in so many respects, were alike in the
endurance of a great deal of hardship, and even privation, before attaining an assured position. Indeed, as a youth Brahma, like Dvortik, was reduced to playing at taverns. As for Wagner, the homely, not to say undistinguished, side of his personality emerges again and again in the two volumes of letters to his first wife, recently translated with such remorseless fidelity by Mr. Ashton Ellis.
The list might be indefinitely extended, but perhaps enough has been said to show how hard it is to square the case of composers with Mr. Bell's assertion that "only those near the top [of society] can share to the full the creative impulses of each period." On the contrary, it has been one of the great glories of music that it is pre-eminently a earri6re ouverte aux talents, in which the humblest plebeian can scale the citadel of fame. Mr. Bell might, no doubt, retort that he made no specific reference to music, which is in many ways detached from life, and that it is possible to be a great composer without embodying national ideals or possess- ing any general culture. But so wide an assertion certainly demands qualification, in view not only of what has been achieved in the last two centuries, but of the systematised efforts to place facilities for musical education within the reach of all classes. If no more Beethovens and Wagners are in store, it will not be for want of the encouragement and assistance afforded by scholarships and exhibitions, prize competitions, and the like. The ladder of musical learning is now so securely erected that very few indeed are denied the opportunity of planting their feet on it. Genius in the future, as in the past, may continue to carve out its way indepen- dently of such aids, unable to conform to convention or to submit to academic restriction, but in whatever fashion the preliminary course of preparation is carried out, whether in solitude or at school, it is impossible to evade the difficulty by which the composer is confronted when he wishes to bring important new works to a bearing. It costs very little to write the full score of a symphony or an opera. But orchestras and soloists and concert-halls and theatres mean a great and an ever-increasing outlay. Modern composers, with few exceptions, write for large orchestras, and the fees of instrumental players, especially in England and America, and of conductors show a marked increase in the last thirty years. The situation that arises is this, that any composer can have his works performed as often as he pleases if he or some one else is prepared to pay the bill. Otherwise he is dependent on the directors of orchestral concerts, or, if he aspires to lyric honours, of operatic syndicates. The latter, as they have frankly avowed, cannot afford the luxury of benevolent patronage or enlightened enterprise. They have to earn dividends by the judicious exploitation of established reputations, and if the expense of production has to come solely out of their pockets, aristocratic but incompetent amateurs are just as certain of rejection as obscure but undoubted geniuses. Nor are the directors of orchestral concerts entirely unmoved by commercial considerations. Still, the young people do get a chance now and then, and the slow but steady increase of such institutions as the Bournemouth municipal orchestra is one of the few really reassuring symptoms of the times from the point of view of the musician who hopes to live by indulging his creative impulses without any consideration for the tastes of the million. But the difficulty which Berlioz expressed in his memoirs when he said that be should be quite content with the recognition of his fame if be could only live to be a hundred and twenty still remains. We do a great deal to encourage talent up to a certain point, so far as education is concerned, but we do far too little to render it possible for the trained musician or composer to continue in the exercise of his art without resort to hackwork or the drudgery of endless
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