24 NOVEMBER 1928, Page 12

Music

THE EFFECTS OF MECHANIZED MUSIC.

HE, who observes that the conditions of musical performance are suffering a great change at this present time, is in no danger of being acclaimed as a seer. A more subtle power of discern- ment, however, is necessary to judge if the change is for better or for worse. At the moment, it is almost impossible to give such a judgment, for the changing process has not yet brought us to any definite point of review.

It is, however, possible to single out a number of incidents which may be taken as reliable evidence. For one thing, it is quite certain that there are far too many people who call themselves professional musicians. Their numbers are too good to be true. The present movement towards the democrat- ization of the arts leads to a continual conflict between material and artistic interests. It also leads a number of people with an instinct for showmanship (but no essentially musical instinct) to adopt one of the arts as a profession, just as a childless woman adopts a foundling. The music critic encounters such people every night of his life. Many of them have no more right to appear as professing musicians than as professing acrobats. Quite a few of them are discovered to be definitely unmusical. The opinion which I encountered recently that the fine arts will soon become—like hunting- " the symbol of an idle and strictly useless life," is only partly true. Even if we admit that the lives of the majority of professional singers and players are strictly useless, it is obvious that they are far from being idle ; and although their activities are steadily increasing, the increase brings about no corresponding advance in attainment.

From others not so important or obvious, two reasons can be noted for this feverish activity. In the first place, the economic conditions of contemporary musical life are more alluring than they have ever been. This may seem to be an extravagant statement in view of the fact that we are still struggling to establish opera and a permanent orchestra in this country. But I am concerned for the moment, not with facts, but with appearances. To the student, the world of music seems full of opportunities. There appear to be so many ways of employing one's time and talent. In view of the increasingly complex subdivisions of musical activity it is easy to understand how the student singer or player is drawn into the relentless machinery of it all. So complete is the illusion that the single and the half-talents enter the compe- tition with the fives and tens. Even the no-talents are willing to take a chance, since they know very well that success as a performer is not wholly conditioned by purely musical factors. It follows, of course, that the period of preparation is curtailed.

The first reason implies the second. The inventions and mechanical ingenuities of this age have made musical perfor- mance (as a merely physical act) so ridiculously easy. Broad- casting and the gramophone enable a singer to ape even the subtle and personal elements of interpretation. It is now a common experience to hear a singer who has been closely studying a celebrity record of a certain song. Such a singer often gives a remarkable imitation of the celebrity's vocal mannerisms, without conveying anything of the inspiration which was the first cause of the performance.

This invasion of the province of music by an over-eager mediocrity naturally results in reducing the power of the virtuoso. We no longer understand what the virtuoso really stood for. He was important, not only for utilitarian reasons, not merely because he expanded the ways and means of musical expression, but chiefly because he served to remind us of the magic of performance. With conditions such as those which at present exist, performance tends to .become less and less personal, and the virtuoso 15 already beginning to lose his singular and essential quality. By mechanical processes, that quality can be imitated, and even reproduced, so that he finds there is no course open but to enrol himself in the services of the player-piano, or to record himself upon synthetic wax. The virtuoso, of course, still appears before us in the flesh, but these appearances are merely items in a commercial campaign. We no longer regard him with the eye of wonder ; we forget to acknowledge his royal descent, his succession by divine right ; we regard the flow of his music as being of no more consequence than that distilled version which can be turned on at any hour of the day- The result of this attitude appears in a number of ways. An obvious result was the half-empty concert-hall that one of the greatest living violinists was called upon to face in London a few months ago.

Even when the concert-halls are filled, a distinct change can be observed in the general attitude towards fine perfor. mance. Whenever applause for a great singer or player breaks through ordinary polite restrictions, be sure that the impulse has originated in some small and perhaps dispersed minority. This minority usually consists of aspiring per- formers. These can judge the full height of the attainment, and judging it, they see it as heroic in relation to their own. They acclaim the hero, and their zeal leavens the whole lump. When this minority is too small to spread the good news, or if at any time it has been disappointed in its hero, the lump remains undisturbed. The lump lacks initiative. Why so ? Because it also lacks reverence.

The virtuoso, therefore, finds himself at a discount. But, as I have said, he cannot afford to stand aloof and look upon mechanized music with disdain. He realizes only too well that if he takes no part in the big push, his services will soon become superfluous. So he swallows his pride and joins up. Mean- while, he discovers that he must change his methods. Formerly he made his appeal not only through dexterity but also through the whims of his personality. He was for ever seeking to enrich the resources of music. Now he finds he must cancel the more personal element of performance and emphasize the purely mechanical side of his achievement, hoping thereby to retain at least a portion of his earlier popularity. It is already obvious that he is playing a losing game and that the Robot-Music which he is helping to fabricate will at length turn upon him and crush his essential qualities. -

BASIL MAINE.