Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 4, No. 7 (1930-04)

224 The Phonograph Monthly Review April, 1930. has not the slightest indication of any kind of permanency. “Hard times” for America is a term that has little or none of the bitter significance it holds for the jo Id world. And despite the fact that times are not as good as they have been (and will be again) the talkies, the hockey matches, operatic and symphonic concerts, book sales, etc., etc, are finding no dearth of public favor or slackening of the golden stream. Entertainment is no longer a luxury in this modern world; it is a necessity. It remains to determine what kind of entertainment the public likes well enough to pay for. If there is any slackening of sales and interest, there are always logical reasons for it. No one at all familiar with the world of music, with the powers of the modern phonograph and the remarkable ex- tent and excellence of the recorded repertory can doubt for an instant the high entertainment value and cultural signi- ficance of the phonograph. The talkies and radio rival it in the former quality, but they are hopelessly incomparable in the latter. They flourish luxuriantly and there is no reason why the phonograph should not do likewise. Renegade “Enthusia*ts” The phonograph is so well on the road to a larger sphere of influence and it is making such excellent progress, that summary treatment should be accorded those who handicap its work from within by throwing sand in the gears. The calamity howler is a nuisance, but far more potentially dan- gerous is the renegade “enthusiast.” The example cited above is revelatory of the species. Let me quote from his letter: “I used to ask when this or that of the great orchestral numbers would be recorded. We were in a great stew those days feeling that our favorite numbers would never.be issued. And then came the avalanche and now there is enough material on hand phonographically to keep one busy the next five years with a full house. I have gone down! I have lost interest and refuse to pay out all my ready cash for rubber (sic) disks that are supplanted the next week by a superior version or better orchestra.” This paragraph strikes me as highly significant, revealing candidly a state of mind not altogether uncommon among the phonographic old-timers. This one stands exposed by his own words. In his case phonography was obviously merely a fad, a passing mania. For all his feverish interest he has remained ignorant even of the physical make-up of records; there is no rubber in them, they are largely shellac. He liked the thrill of waiting for some rare work to appear and took tremendous pleasure in gloating over the posses- sion of something few people had. At that time even a per- son of moderate means could obtain almost everything of real worth that was issued, but “the avalanche” came. The merest phonographic novice could purchase the foreign records that once were such rare and exclusive treasures. No longer could the collector boast that he had every sym- phony or every opera recorded. He was not content to pur- chase according to his means and to enjoy the wonder works that even the most modest purse can obtain, but he must cry “sour grapes!” because he couldn t have everything. Forthwith his erstwhile enthusiasm goes flatter than a de- flated balloon, and he decries phonography in terms as ex- treme as those with which he had formerly extolled it. Be- cause he can’t have everything himself he is determined that no one else shall have anything at all. In short the musical interest was not the dominant one to begin with. And when the essential artistic element is lacking, phonograph has nothing (unless it be the techni- cal complexity) to distinguish it from a myriad hobbies, fads, and parlor pastimes. Its devotees are enthusiasts rather than earnest music lovers. They are bitten by the bug and galvanized into a furious semblance of rapturous enjoy- ment, but the novelty of the thing soon wears off. The “fan” takes up some other craze and the phonograph and its'records join (as one writer puts it) the stereoscope, the music box, and the moustache cup in oblivion. Music First The new phonography must preach—and practise— music first. The phonograph is first and last a musical instrument There are fascinating (and dangerous) overtones of techni- cal experimentation, collecting, and the like, but the domin- ant note is that of aesthetic experience. If the first appeal is not to the musical sensibilities, it can never be anything more than a toy. The Choice of Records Lack of knowledge or of consideration for this supremely vital truth is the cause of many people losing interest in phonography through their own unwise choice of records. Some of my readers may look askance at this. “Unwise choice indeed! Are we not capable of choosing our own purchases?” I can only retort, Yankee—wise, “Well, are you?” Are you a collector or a music lover? Do you still play the rec- ords you got two years ago, last year, last fall? After hav- ing played a disk indefatigably for a month or so and hav- ing demonstrated it to your friends, is its interest exhausted for you?” The average record buyer seldom stops to consider just what his purchase policy is He rushes into a dealer’s shop sees or hears the latest phonographic sensation and rushes out again with it under his arms. To many the finest re- commendation of a record is that it is a “best seller”, that other people are buying it. Others buy works that have just been recorded for the first time, “a long awaited release,” never thinking whether the music itself has a real and lasting appeal to them. Nearly all are so busy adding new disks to their collections that they never pause to think that the latest additions are going to suffer the same fate that has befallen the favorites of yesteryear, now probably collecting dust in the back corner of a closet This sort of indiscriminate record acquisition,—gobbling, in plain lang- uage—leads to lively sales for a time, but it also leads—and quickly—to phonographic indigestion, and the hapless vic- tim rushes to the other extremity of refusing all musical sus- tenance. This has been happening on a considerable scale during the past two or three years. The rabid “enthusiasts” have given themselves over to a saturnalia of record purchase. Inevitably the phonograph has lost all zest for them. They realize they have been spending more than they can afford. They turn in disgust to some other craze. Record scales drop and the dealers (a timorous race) begin to fear that something radical is wrong: Have the radio, the talkies, the film instrument of the future displaced the phonograph? Is phonography losing ground? Nonsense. The enemies of phonography are within, and not without. When the phono- graph loses a convert to radio or to anything else, it simply means that he never had a deeply-rooted comprehension of the significance of recorded music. The true phonophile will see the best talkies, hear the more important broadcasts, follow with interest the gradual development of film-repro- ducing media, the Theremin, and the like,—but all of these will be supplementary, or at the best complementary, to his phonograph. Records and Books In stressing the cultural significance of phonography and demolishing the bonds of faddism that handicap it so sev- erely, there is no more vivid parallel which can be drawn than that between records and books. Until this inherent kinship is generally understood phonography will never prosper as it should. The person of education, of culture, in short the fully civilized being, enjoys the theatre, concerts, social life, but he realizes that the printed word is equally important, and he consciously sets apart a considerable amount of his time for reading, and of his money for the purchase of books. What many of this class do not yet rea- lize (and here lies our greatest missionary field) is that rec- ords are books, recording the sounded note instead of the printed word. The phonograph itself is, well let us say just an elaborate kind of reading glass. Mechanistic contriv- ances have stepped in to make music as easily experienced as the other arts. And music is essential not merely for culture and for enjoyment, but for life itself. (May I digress to make clear that in referring to the educated and cultured person, I most emphatically do not imply any sort of snobbery or highbrowism. It is only the out and out fool who glories in his own ignorance in aes- thetic experience and understanding. The phonograph is one of the most democratic of all educative media, for music’s language is universal and there are no quotas or examina- tions or bars of any sort in its realm). To return to our parallel. Book publishers have enjoyed a sensational success in recent years largely because they have intelligently advanced the cause of good books. Trash sells