THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE MUSICIAN.* MR. FULLER MAITLAND has written
a "seven ages" of man as applied to the musician. In a book as wise as it is interesting the author writes of the Prodigy, the Student, the Prig, the Amateur, the Virtuoso, the Artist, and the Veteran. Each of these phases is treated with such width of view that it is safe to say that most musicians have developed, broadly speaking, on the lines there described. In speaking of the child musician, Mr. Fuller Maitland points out the isolating effect of music. This isolation is more or less consequent upon the possession of artistic qualities of any kind, and is perhaps accountable for the desire for recognition so noticeable in artists of all varieties. In the first section of the book before us the following passage deals with this isolating tendency :—
" The reason for this state of isolation is the same that accounts for and partially excuses the common charge of want of general culture so often brought against musicians by those who are not musical, viz., that while every other art deals with subjects of more or less general interest, and finds its material in words or forms that are at least recognisable by ordinary people, the musical gift alone can only find its outlet in music itself, and must deal with the lan- guage that appeals to a relatively small number of persons. Music,' as Mr. Balfour has well said, 'iunlike painting or poetry, has no external reference.' In the end this separation from the rest of the world is by no means a disadvantage to the musician, for it frees him from the criticisms of those who are professedly ignorant of art, criticisms by which sensitive poets and painters are tortured from the beginning of their career to the close. The friends of a young poet will persuade him that the epithet he has found to fit his idea exactly is far-fetched and absurd, and probably no portrait was ever yet painted without the painter being compelled to run the gauntlet of the sitter's friends, all of whom have contradictory convictions concerning the directions of the corners of the mouth or the position of the nose. Unmusical people do not say, don't Ince that bit of melody,' or Surely that chord would be better in another position' ; they like or dislike the composition of the per- formance as a whole, and if they dislike it are kind enough to leave it alone without giving reasons."
In the chapter devoted to the student, the author has much to say that, it is to be hoped, will penetrate to the music schools. The study, too, of the prig is one that should be pondered, not only by students, but by critics and by people generally. The prig is largely manufactured by the ignorance of the public. In Germany, Mr. Fuller Maitland tells us, familiarity with the rudiments of music is as common as a knowledge of the main outlines of geography and history is with us. Hence the assumptions of the imperfectly developed student are much more easily detected.
By "amateur" is not meant the person who merely dabbles in an art as a means of passing the time. In this book the
word is used in the sense of one who is a lover of music in the highest sense, and who may, or may not, be a professional
performer. The true lover is one who has gone through a spiritual experience connected with the art he loves, after which he is not the same as he was before. This experience may come early or may be delayed, and in sensitive organisa- tions recurs at intervals as the appreciation widens in sym- pathy.
The question of studentship in England or abroad is dis- cussed, and the good and bad of either considered. The great disadvantage of study in England seems to be the fact that beyond the doors of the music school there is little really artistic enthusiasm obtainable for the student. English people do not take the art of music very seriously. Too often those who do full justice to the greatness of literature or of science, look upon music as merely a form of pleasure. This may be seen in the case of the opera. Many people who,
even if they do not read poetry habitually, feel that a perform- ance of Shakespeare is a serious thing worthy of high in- tellectual consideration. But the same people class the • The Musician's Pilgrimage: a Study in Artistic Deretopuient. By 3. A. Fuller Maitland. London: Smith Elder, and Co. [5s.] production of a great opera, be it Fideleo or Siegfried, along with ordinary theatrical performances. The religious element in oratorios has obtained for these works the serious con- sideration which ordinary people withhold from other forms of great music.
After describing the vagaries and egotisms of the virtuoso, Mr. Fuller Maitland passes to the consideration of the artist. The following passage seems to us to state admirably the crowning work of the artist ; that is, the right way of inter- preting great works :- " The artist must sooner or later find himself face to face with one of the hardest problems of interpretations, a problem which has been more distinctly as well as more hotly discussed in connection with the dramatic art than with our own. Is it better to settle before- hand every detail of reading, to follow in performance every step of a plan deliberately thought out in process of study, or to allow the feelings to dictate the style of interpretation at the time of per- formance, and so to aim at an actual spontaneity of rendering, leaving all but the mere framework of the musical notes or the words of a part to the mood of the moment ? At first sight it would seem that the former is the lower ideal of the two, and that the monotony it implies is characteristic of the cold performances of the virtuoso rather than those of the inspired artist. But in truth the virtuoso is as far from one ideal as the other. The careful husbanding of effect, the choice of one manner of phrasing rather than another, the intellectual application of the canons which all the arts obey,—these are as unobtainable by the mere virtuoso as the flash of genius which, coming unex- pectedly during a performance, electrifies all who have ears to hear. All the romances and poems dealing with music, which have won fame with the public, have been in favour of the spontaneous system of musical interpretation. Genius, according to their authors, implies a state not far removed from a hypnotic trance, in which, half unconsciously to the musician himself, he pours forth the magic stream of exquisite sound, as it were but the mouthpiece of some spiritual agency, or the bearer of a mystic or half-understood message from another world. It seems a pity to disturb the pretty fancies of these dreary writers, but I am almost sure that they are responsible for much in the formless, chaotic per- formances that musicians are often compelled to listen to. I cannot deny that great moments of inspiration do come to true artists in the actual moment of their performances ; but I am sure most readily and frequently where the groundwork of the interpretation has been arranged beforehand. Then, such moments appear as the natural climax of a masterly design ; but if the inspiration of the moment be exclusively relied on, the result is very apt to become a series of ' points' spasmodically emphasised, without trace of balance or purpose.'
We cannot leave this fascinating work without calling atten- tion to the delightful consistency of its construction. The matter of the book is treated with a lucidity and coherence of thought suggestive of the developments of a sonata.
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