Screenland (May-Oct 1930)

18 SCREENLAND "The Chocolate Soldier" and "The Waltz Dream" are among the beloved light operas of all time. Oscar Straus, their composer, is shown in the act of writing original compositions for the screen. His first motion picture operetta will be for Vitaphone. THE most interesting thing that happened to me in New York, on my way to Hollywood to compose Vitaphone operettas, was that I had the privilege of meeting George Gershwin. I had heard of him, of course, and I had often listened with admiration to his music. And when we stood face to face, with clasped hands, I thought: "This is a meeting of Europe and America — of Vienna and New York!" For my music has always been, in its very essence, Viennese. Although for the past decade I have lived for the most part in Berlin and Paris, visiting the banks of the blue Danube only from time to time, I have always hzen and always shall remain, spiritually, a son of my native city. As for George Gershwin — he is not merely a product of New York. His music, it seems to me, is New York of the present day. We became great friends, though our time together was so short; and this, I like to think, is a happy omen of the future relations of European and American music. We met early in the evening, at the premiere of a re' vival of "The Chocolate Soldier;" and after the perform JAZZ, By Oscar Straus "The present jazz craze is simply a fad. It reminds me always of fireworks being exploded under the eternal stars. Sometimes a flight of blazing rockets lights up the entire landscape with a dazzling glare; but when they fall the stars are still shining. I have never written jazz. I have no intention of writing it. It is not my music." — Oscar Straus. mance Gershwin took me to his very modernistic penthouse apartment, where we remained until half 'past two in the morning, playing the piano and talking. First my host would play, and then I would play; and then we would talk about the things that are of eternal interest to men who compose music. On many subjects we did not agree — nor did we pretend that we agreed. We were both honest — the very best, and indeed the only, foundation for friendship. And we both love music. It was one of the most delightful even' ings I have ever known. Gershwin's music is not my music, but he is a genuine artist. We understood each other. Therein, I believe, lies a symbol and a prophecy of the years to come. The typical music of the old and New' Worlds will, in my judgment, prove to have much in common. They will continue to influence each other; stimulation and inspiration will pass back and forth. This process has already begun. I see no limitations to its future development, now that the synchronization of sight and sound on the motion picture screen has opened to music the gates of a world'wide kingdom. That is why I have come to America — to take part in the inauguration of the new era in which, I am satisfied, music is destined to an expansion hitherto undreamed of by its most ardent devotees. For nowadays, the screen reaches all the world. From the palatial cinema theaters of London, Paris and New York to tiny movie halls in Asia, in Mexico and on the Gold Coast of Africa, this newest and most amazing of art forms may be seen at work, amusing and educating all mankind. No longer can it be truly said that there is no new thing under the sun; for in all the history of the human race there has been nothing like the rise of the motion picture to planetary omnipresence in the past score of years. And now it will be able to carry the message of music everywhere.