THE MORECAMBE FESTIVAL.
AS the writer was nearing the end of his outward journey on what proved to be one of the most interesting adventures of his musical life, a friendly fellow-passenger nudged his arm and, pointing to an imposing fabric, observed, " That's the biggest linoleum factory in the world." A minute or two later he added, "And that's Morecambe, though for myself I don't think much of it." Perhaps it was because Morecambe does not produce linoleum, being for the most part a pleasure city in which the outstanding features are great piers with pagoda-like concert halls, winter gardens, picture theatres and Wiggle-Woggles, Flip-Flaps, Joy- Wheels, Katzenjammer castles, and other portentous appli- ances for the diversion of those who, in Dr. Johnson's phrase, are afraid to sit at home and think. But if you stand on the sea-front and turn your back on the town and its monstrosities the prospect over sea and sands is noble and inspiring. Or if you wander past the switchbacks and walk a mile or two out of the town you will find at Heysham one of the most beautiful and romantically situated little churches within the four seas. Morecambe, in short, is a place that inspires mixed emotions. There is the clash of modernity and mechanism with the irresistible appeal of natural beauty, historic association, and ancient quiet. And in this conflict one may find an analogue for the heterogeneous elements existing side by side in the Morecambe Festival. With all reservations, it is one of the most astonishing revelations of the musical genius of the English people. It is only rendered possible by an energy and keenness on the part of the people which are nothing short of heroic. The romance of the movement is not confined to the outstanding figures of the pioneers: it is, perhaps, most observable in the obscure hierophanta who hand on the lamp of progress in remote rural villages—self-taught enthusiasts who, by virtue of personality and perseverance, achieve results in the training of choirs which musicians with years of academic study behind them are unable to attain. During the past week one occasionally witnessed antics and extravagances on the part of conductors, but the worst offenders in this respect did not come from the small but the big towns, and suggested an indiscreet imitation of Sir Henry Wood more than anything else. Most of the conductors were frugal of gesture and restrained in method. The incompetent or eccentric local conductor—such as the one who, while he was beating time, used to adjure his choir to "arch your diaphragms; if ye arch your diaphragms ye can do it"; and whose idea of directing an orchestra was at intervals to read out the metro- nome numbers from the score—has been well-nigh improved out of existence by the competitive choral festival movement. It is no longer necessary for public singers to say to the band "For Heaven's sake, don't look at the conductor ; look at me." The musicianship and the good taste of the local conductor compare more than favourably with that of the popular pro- fessional singer. How they have gained this mastery is in some cases almost miraculous, and if asked for an explanation they probably could give none better than that of Topsy, "'specs I
growed." The work done by women in this movement must rank among the finest exploits of triumphant feminism. The chief impelling force was provided by the infectious enthu- siasm and splendid energy of Mary Wakefield—dux femina facti. But their share does not end here. Apart from supply. ing their quota of the rank and file and providing the moat successful trainers of the children's choirs, they have invaded the most exalted domain of musical activity at these Festivals and have carried off the highest honours. The most redoubt- able—and the most unobtrusive—of all the conductors who took
part in the Festival last week was Mrs. Bourne, of Barrow. Her beat is admirably clear and firm and her control complete. But what impressed one more than her workmanlike technique was the dignity, the simplicity, and the sanity of her readings, and the exquisite purity of diction she secured from her singers. She did not repeat her success at the last Festival, when she carried off the challenge shield for the Open Mixed Choir Com-
petition, the great event of the meeting, but one could not help feeling that the exotic sentiment and strenuous angularity of the preliminary test pieces gave little chance to a choir and a conductor with whom high ideals count for more than virtuosity. She won the first prize, however, in one of the chief competi- tions for male voice choirs, and also for the open competi- tion for female choirs. Here Hegar's graceful and melodious Pfingstlied, which sounded commonplace though admirably sung by some of the other choirs, was elevated to a plane of loveli- ness by the Barrow singers. This was one of the " shining moments " of the Festival. Another was the splendid achieve- ment of the Blackpool Choir, who scored a popular and well- earned success in the chief event, under the inspiring direction of Mr. Herbert Whittaker, who for many years has done pioneer work of the highest value by popularizing the finest a cappella music of all schools. A third was the gorgeous volume of tone produced by the Habergham male voice choir—if their interpretation had been equal to their voices they would have been irresistible. A fourth, in a totally different sphere, was the performance of the Kendal Central Boys School in the Action Song Competition. The pieces chosen were optional—a condi- tion which might well be extended to other and more important competitions—and the winners acted Marzials' song "The Miller and the Maid," and then danced a minuet to the tune of " Polly Oliver." Without official assurance to the contrary one would have sworn that the dancers were boys and girls. As a matter of fact they were all boys. But the illusion was complete, and the precision and grace of the movements sug- gested a ballet of miniature Muscovites. In this competition, as in the charming Maypole Dance and Song Competition, the singing and pianoforte accompaniment as a rule were quite inadequate. On another occasion, in view of the important part played by costumes and dances in these competitions, it might be advisable to appoint a lady adjudi- cator. The playing of the three full orchestras who competed in Class 45 was not only excellent in itself, but of the greatest significance in its bearing on the future development of these Festivals. When what are virtually and substantially amateur bands can already attain such a pitch of excellence the financial problem of how to secure an efficient orchestra for the concerts is half solved, and a prospect lies before us in which the competition Festivals must prove formidable rivals to the older gatherings of the Three Choirs, Leeds, Birmingham, Norwich, and Sheffield. Most valuable and encouraging again were the results of the string quartet, the mixed voice quartet, and the pianoforte accompaniment competitions. In the last named a local singer—an excellent baritone—was retained to sing " The Battle of Pelusium " for sixteen competitors, and shortly afterwards took part in the winning vocal quartet without perceptible loss of tone. Lastly we must not forget the thrilling effect of the singing by the massed male voice choirs, at the close of their com- petition, of Dr. Walford Davies's impressive setting of R. D. Blackmore's lines beginning " In the hour of death." But to go back to our analogue, there were unfortunately musical counterparts for the Wiggle-Woggle, the Joy-Wheel and the Katzenjammer castle, as well as for Heysham church, and the views across the bay or towards the lakes and the fells. Competitive musical festivals, like competitive examinations, inevitably tend to the exaltation of technique and the worship of Difficulty. As the standard of efficiency is raised and the ordinary repertory of madrigal and part-song music is exhausted, there is a tendency to select test pieces which have nothing to recommend them but their intricacy, and to encourage composers to write brand-new part songs not to show off the intelligence or sympathy of the singers, but simply to impose impossible tasks, like a tyrannical king in a fairy tale. Let us hasten to say that the test pieces at Morecambe were not nearly so objectionable in this regard as they have been at other recent Festivals, but many of them were ugly as well as difficult, while their sentiment was gener- ally exotic and sophisticated. It is simply criminal to let these splendid choirs strain their voices and squander their intelligence in mere gymnastic display. The contention that the repertory is exhausted will not hold water. But even if it did, it is far better to repeat an old and beautiful work than to produce a brand-new monstrosity. To adapt Stevenson, " the world is full of such beautiful things, and I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings" if the directors would let us hear a little more of the old masters and a little less of the new Katzenjammer manufacturers. During one of the sight- reading tests an ironical critic was moved by the performance of the first choir, who got a good deal off the rails, to ask, " Is it modern or are they singing wrong P " But even more pointed was the criticism of a very small child, who observed of a deplorably inappropriate solo test, " What a funny tune, Daddy ! It's upside down." The cantata chosen for per- formance by the children's choirs certainly did not err on the side of intricacy, and its blameless melodies were sung with evident enjoyment ; but the only " work " in the pro- gramme in which the combined adult choirs were utilized— Coleridge Taylor's "Bon-bon Suite "—was unworthy alike of the composer and the singers. The words are among the weakest that Moore ever wrote, and the music never rises above an occasional piquancy. At one of the evening concerts the great chorus, in march time, from Brahms's Requiem was sung in memory of Canon Gorton, the first President and for many years the chief inspiring influence of the Festival, but owing to inadequate rehearsal the performance was only moderate and a golden opportunity was thrown away. Nothing serves to illustrate the responsibility attaching to the directors of these Festivals better than the fact that with the resources at their disposal they can glorify indifferent or even bad music, while, if they scamp preparation, they can manage to make great music sound dull. The solo-singing competitions were perhaps the least satisfactory of all. To begin with, children under thirteen ought never to be encouraged to sing solos in public, and as one listened to the immature tones of the prize-winner in this class, one could not help noting the unintentional appropriateness of the words of her song :— " Birdie, wait a little longer Till the little wings are stronger."
But in the senior and adult classes the results were not altogether happy. Solo-singing competitions seem inevitably to foster self-consciousness and affectation, and they might with great advantage be altogether eliminated from the scheme of these Festivals. The experience of last week, again, showed that if it is necessary to engage professional singers at all, care should be taken to secure performers who can be counted on to sing only good music and to sing it with good taste.
In summing up the impressions of a memorable week one cannot help feeling that the music performed was in the main on a lower level than the accomplishment of the performers. With the exception of the chorus from Brahms's Requiem the choirs had no great music to sing. There was much that was good and characteristic, but there was too much that was merely modern. The plea so eloquently urged by Dr. Walford Davies in his speech at the final adjudication on behalf of the great masters will, it is hoped, not fall on deaf ears. The list of works performed at the Morecambe Festival since its start some twenty years ago printed in the programme is a remarkable testimony to the enterprise and the catholic taste of its promoters, and if there has been any falling-off from the high standard of past years there are elements in the movement which will redress the balance in the future. The personnel of the competing choirs and the intelligence and zeal of their conductors are magnificent. At the moment the central guidance seems lacking in consistency, judgment and taste. As one of the most enthusiastic supporters of theFestival put it to the present writer, "It has been through remarkable personalities that this movement has started and grown, and according to the continued greatness of such personalities it will develop or decline. And as long as it reveals the spontaneous musical soul of the people and is not forced into formal paths it will never seriously suffer." That such inspiring personalities are still at work no one who attended the Festival is likely to doubt. Nor must we fail to applaud the care, the vigilance, and the impartiality of the adjudicators, or the excellent advice and criticism with which they seasoned their awards. If, in conclusion, one may venture on a suggestion or two, it seems desirable to give the competing choirs the power to choose one of the test pieces them- selves, and to award special marks for the intrinsic value of the work so chosen. Such a concession would probably hava raised the artistic standard of the Festival last week. Again, with a view to enhancing the educative effect of the meeting, it ought to be possible to form a Festival chorus out of the local choirs for the performance of works on the grand scale in combination with one of the excellent local orchestras now available. The competitive musical festival already affords better and more fruitful opportunities to the amateur than any other form of musical enterprise. It obliterates distinctions of class and creed and reconciles the service of art with the democratic spirit of the age. On the extended scale which we have indicated, if the financial problems involved can be overcome without raising the price of admission, it would gain a national popularity which the older and more expensively organized festivals seem to be in serious
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