M US IC.
COMPOSERS AND PUBLISHERS.
THE complimentary banquet to Mr. T. P. O'Connor, M.P., for his services in connexion with the passing of the Musical Copyright Bill gave Sir Charles Stanford an opportunity, in replying to the toast of "Music," to address a forcible appeal to the publishers on behalf of composers with serious aims. The efforts of Mr. O'Connor and those associated with him had, he pointed out, secured the safety of those works which produced the quickest returns and the largest profits, and they once more raised the hope that some portion of those profits would be devoted to the publishing of music which appealed to a smaller but earnest circle of music-lovers. From this category he exempted choral and church music, and limited his remarks to absolute music,—symphonies, concertos, and other orchestral works, string chamber-music, trios, sonatas for various instruments, important pianoforte music, and classical song. To illustrate our position in this regard he compared our record with that of Russia. In Russia the creative energy of the last quarter of a century had been immensely assisted by the foresight of the publisher Belaieff, who realised that if Russian music was to gain the reputation it deserved it must be brought within the reach of Europe. Thanks to his enterprise in St. Petersburg and Leipzig, nine- tenths of the Russian music that counts had been published, -with the result that it had made its way over two continents. While Belaieff's catalogue filled two hundred and ten pages, the list of such works published in England during the same period would not fill four pages. "With abundance of the finest material, it is safe to say that at least nine-tenths of it are in manuscript or procurable by nobody," in proof of which Sir Charles Stanford referred to the case of that admirable composer, Mr. Hurlstone, who died without the satisfaction of seeing many of his finest works in print. The composers of England had strenuously supported the publishers in their campaign against the "pirates." He felt that they
were entitled in their turn to ask for a strong helping hand from the publishers to save the artistic reputation of the country. As matters stood, those of them who persisted in devoting their lives to the pursuit of high aims had hardly any prospect that they would ever reach the outside world through English channels. How would English literature be rated in Europe if its staple were six-shilling novels, and the works of Tennyson, Browning, Darwin, Huxley, Lecky, and Green remained in manuscript ? Yet that was the present case of music in England. If Schubert were alive and an Englishman, and were to send in "The Ed-King" to a pub- lisher, it would be returned next day with the comment that the difficulty of its accompaniment would interfere with its sale. Yet Schubert, poor and neglected though he was, at least got seven shillings for it, and saw it in print; and was better off in Vienna a century ago than he would be in London to-day. Sir Charles Stanford cheerfully admitted that the music publishers had generously supported the schools of music, but he contended that their support would be greatly enhanced in value if it took the form of practically encouraging the young scholars, who were many and increasing, who devoted themselves to the highest branch taught in those schools,— composition. The music publishers were men of business and experience, but they must realise that all citizens of England had responsibilities above and beyond their daily bread. Their special responsibility was to do what they alone could do,—raise the repute of England as a music-producing nation to the position which she was capable of holding in the eyes of the world, but which under present conditions she could not hold, for the reputation of a country could not be built up on manuscripts. What had been done by Germany, France, Italy, Russia, and America—none of them Utopian in business matters—was surely not beyond the reach of England. He admitted that success could only be achieved gradually, but was confident that it would come if the policy were persisted in, and quoted Brahms's advice to a well-known German firm to put some of their money in Consols, which paid less, but lasted, rather than in gold-mines, which paid 100 per cent., and were soon exhausted.
We have reproduced the substance of Sir Charles Stanford's appeal at considerable length in view not only of the speaker's distinction, but of the interesting and important issues which it raises. It was not to be expected that the indictment of the music publishers which it contains would pass without reply, and their views on the subject, so far as they have expressed themselves,. are both instructive and significant. Mr. William Boosey, the managing director of Chappell and Co., speaking with all the magisterial authority derived from an unsurpassed experience of ballads and ballad concerts, described the future of young English musicians as "appal- lingly dark." The decline and discontinuance of the Saturday and Monday "Pops" proved, in his opinion, that the public had ceased practically to care for chamber-music. The popularity of orchestral ccncerts had killed the taste in that direction ; hence it was unprofitable either to produce or to publish chamber works. And for other forms of serious composition Mr. William Boosey declares there is virtually no market. But the blame for the distressful case of the earnest young composer lies not so much at the door of the public as at that of the professors. "The professors, for the most part, insist upon the students writing in certain forms that &we no commercial value, and hold up their hands in horror at the lighter forms,—those that might be cultivated with substantial advantage to the students in after life." The italics are ours, but we may be pardoned for employing them to emphasise Mr. Boosey's suicidal ingenuousness. If practical effect were to be given to his strictures, we should have, not Royal, but Royalty Colleges and Academies of Music. The need for instruction on such lines is farther driven home by Messrs. Metzler, who have stated that "not one song in a hundred sent in to them is worth a second thought, either as regards its artistic or market value." The professors, it would seem, cannot teach their pupils to write good songs, and will not teach them to write bad ones. Worst of all, when genius does in rare cases
assert itself and win the publishers' acceptance, the public is deaf to its appeal. Such at least is the obvious inference to be drawn from Messrs. Metzler's further remark that "we have soma magnificent songs, but can't sell them."
It must not be supposed, because the publishers have so far
played into the bands of their critics, that their attitude towards the composer of abstract music is entirely inde- fensible. On the contrary, a Devil's or Barabbas's advocate would have no difficulty in making out an excellent case on their behalf. Thus he would begin by pointing out that the analogy of Russia was doubly misleading,—on the one band, in that Russia did not come within the scope of the Berne Convention, and that, in con- sequence, publishers were not hampered by the obliga- tion to pay fees to foreign composers ; on the other, in that Belaieff, the far-sighted and patriotic publisher, was a man of independent fortune, to whom it was a matter of indifference whether he made or lost money on his venture. Next, it might be pointed out that high aims and disinterested devotion to art afford no guarantee for the possession of creative genius, and that, although a great deal of abstract mush, by British composers has been brought to a hearing during the past few years, the popular verdict, as well as that of the critics, with a very few exceptions, has not been such as to encourage publishers to invest capital in engraving these new works. Thirdly, it might be urged that, by Sir Charles Stanford's own admission, the publishers had liberally encouraged that branch of musical composition—oratorio and church music—which appealed most strongly to the very fibres of the national character, and on that account alone they could not be charged with neglecting their patriotic responsibilities. Lastly, it might be said that the leading publishers had rendered the public excellent service by bringing classical and standard works within reach of the masses by their cheap reprints. But while all these points, and others besides, may be made in favour of the music publishers, they do not touch the main contentions on which Sir Charles Stanford bases his appeal. He does not deny that they have done, and are doing, much to help music and musicians ; he merely asks them to take longer views in their commerce and be more logical in their benefactions. The history of book publishing certainly shows that a greater con- tinuity of success has been achieved by those firms who took the longer, and what we may call the more sportsmanlike, view of their responsibilities. But this encouragement is not derived from the parallel case of letters alone. Mr. Samuel Chappell, the founder of the firm of which Mr. William Boosey is now managing director, was originally connected with Robert Birchall, a man whose record is not without its bearing on the issues raised by Sir Charles Stanford. Birchall, who founded a circulating musical library in 1784, was the most enterprising music publisher of his time. His catalogue not only contained Mozart's operas and a great number of classical and standard works, but the original English editions of a good many of Beethoven's works, the copyright of which he purchased from the composer at a time when Beethoven's reputation was far from meeting with general recogni- tion even in his own country. Yet Birchall, we learned, amassed a large fortune before he died in 1819, several years before the death of Beethoven himself. It is not to be supposed that he made his fortune out of Beethoven ; but, at any rate, he was not afraid to lock up some of his profits from more immediately lucrative ventures in investments from which the dividends, if ever realised, were likely to be enduring. If it should be objected that there are no British Beethovens at the present day, one may retort that they are just as likely to turn up in England as anywhere else, and that recognition on which such a repute is based is impossible so long as compositions of serious aim are unable to make their way into print.
Whether the publishers will respond to Sir Charles Stan- ford's appeal or not it is too early to speak with any confidence. But he has at any rate thrown out a suggestion which is well worth the consideration of such millionaires— if any there be—who may feel disposed to lend practical encouragement to British musicians who devote their energies to the highest branches of the art. The foundation and endowment of scholarships is an excellent thing in its way, but it only leads to an impasse if those who are thereby induced to indulge a natural bent for composition are denied the opportunity of placing their works at the disposal of the public. If, then, the enterprising millionaire wishes to exploit a new and blameless field of benevolence, let him emulate the example of Belaieff and finance an establishment for the publishing of abstract music. Speaking roughly; a symphony can be produced at the cost of a "library book," and important chamber works or minor orchestral compositions at that of a six-shilling novel. In other words, allowing for the salary of a competent reader, fifteen works, of orchestral and chamber music, might be engraved for the annual outlay of £2,000 a year. Viewed as an investment, there is little reason to believe that this expenditure would be all dead lose, to say nothing of the off-chance of discovering, if not a Beethoven, at any rate a Dvorak, a Bizet, or a Richard
Previous page
