Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 1, No. 9 (1927-06)

376 The Phonograph Monthly Review ■nisv the opera or inherited seats at the subscription series of the Boston Symphony Orchestra; but they will be found spending all they can afford— and more than they can afford—for tickets to symphony concerts open to the general public, artists’ recitals, oratorio performances, and any and every other commendable musical enterprise. The buyers of good records are not among those who wait to hear the rising musical geniuses af- ter they have come into full recognition; they are among the hardy pioneers who seek out new merit and support it. You will not hear them discuss- ing personalities and chit-chat at intermission; you will hear them asking one another what pro- gramme numbers may be found on records, when the artist comes again and when the next worth- while concert is to be given. (And, to reassure all and sundry, let it be added that the majority of phonographs and records are purchased by young people, between the ages of eighteen and thirty-eight. Those fine, upstanding youngsters whom the eminent critic saw at his Kreisler concert were without doubt some of our best phonograph enthusiasts, the real elite of the concert-hall!) Concert and operatic artists almost without number have voluntarily testified to the marked improvement in the understanding and apprecia- tion displayed by American audiences since the advent of the phonograph. It would be weari- some to repeat the mass of this evidence, and only the most robust prejudice on the part of those who will not understand, makes it neces- sary to recall this so-evident fact. But, continues our critic, even if it be true that phonograph enthusiasts in substantial num- bers attend musical affairs, just think of the dreadful records they spend their money for— jazz, “popular” music, “sugar plums”! It is quite true that a large proportion of all records made and sold is recordings of popular music. Like- wise, it is true that an equally large proportion of all the books published each year is, when judged by authentic literary standards, rubbish. Both statements are true, and both are ultimate- ly meaningless. Suppose much of the recorded music sold is trash; does that diminish by so much as a grace note the value of good music recorded and sold? Suppose most of the books published are trash; does that decrease by a devil’s em the worth of the real literature that was produced? In every art—and recording is an art—there are the inevitable two classes of followers; those who seek the easy way of ap- preciation, the way of jingles and rhythm and hey-rub-a-dub, and those who are willing to take the better way of study and thought and deep feeling, which leads to the pleasures that under- standing knows. But in no other art is the whole judged by the part; in no other human enter- prise is a great effort condemned because all its followers are not leaders. Recorded music de- serves to be appraised as every other aesthetic endeavor is appraised, by the best it can do. If one will listen to its best, he will find evidence in plenty of its high purpose and achievement. It used to be thought—and probably still is— in certain circles that the phonograph enthusiast’s idea of good music was “Just a-Wearyin’ for You,” the Cavelleria intermezzo, “The Rosary.” And if not those, then “Oh, How I Miss You To- night” and “Muddy Waters.” (Heaven send that I have these names down right.) I wish the people who entertained those quaint notions—or perhaps still do—could know of the impatient enthusiasm with which American record-buyers have been demanding Albert Coates’ Wagnerian recordings this past year! Coates, as many of my readers will know, made a remarkable series of orchestral records in England in 1926 for the Gramophone Company, which Victor has been releasing over here in recent few months. The Victor Company has been all but stormed because it hasn’t issued the records fast enough to suit the American record-buying public. I wish, too, that those who maintain that record buyers are not interested in good music could see the sales figures of the Columbia Masterworks Series; could see the sales figures of the symphony, con- certo, sonata, string quartet and other recordings of like quality which go to make up the Music Arts Library of Victor Records; could know of the scores of orders for high-class European re- cordings not yet available in this country which every foreign mail carries to London and the Continent. Perhaps these statistics might teach them something. But perhaps not. Prejudice is mighty, and when the mind is closed not all the facts in the world can prevail to open it. One’s only thought for the man or woman who chooses to deny himself the privilege of hearing great music greatly performed should be regret. For, after all, it is only comparatively seldom that the most affluent among us can hear great artists and organizations in person. The new phono- graph and its electrical recordings can bring the living presence of this music to us when we will. Who shuts it out of his life is robbing himself of one of the greatest joys to be found in this age of disillusion and disbelief. Nor is the phonograph, as often alleged, the enemy of personally produced music. It is true, as H. L. Mencken says, that every man, woman or child who really loves music will endeavor to make it himself. But neither you nor I, gentle reader, can at once sing, play the piano, violin and ’cello, be a string quartet, a mixed chorus, and a symphony orchestra. But the modern phonograph can. Furthermore, you and I and every other intelligent, musically inclined individ- ual crave and ought to have the enjoyment that comes from all those voices of song. The phono- graph is the friend of personally produced music; it teaches the young to love and to make authen- tic music, it teaches all of us at every age to en- ter into that understanding appreciation of music which is bound to find expression in some form of musical utterance. Still, what about radio? someone asks; isn’t that more interesting than the phonograph, and hasn’t it greater possibilities? (More “interest- ing” than music? Is comment on that necessary?