Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 5, No. 3 (1930-12)

December, 1930, Vol. V. No. 3 77 slowly; he still finds the path to appreciation be- set with obstacles. But he is far richer than he was. He goes now to concerts with better hopes and fuller rewards, because at least some of the music is familiar enough to convey something like its full efect even when fleetingly played before an audience. He no longer dreads music that is new to him, because he knows that if he tries he may make it, as he has made other music, yield something of its full emotional effect to his ears. His phonograph is his ally, his staff. He knows, to be sure, that without some guidance, without a good friend or, if there be one good enough, a good book, he could not have found his way as far as he has, but he knows also that the friend or the book, unaided by the phonograph, would have been of little help to his slow and unprac- tised musical responses. The ignoramus is a very common animal. How common does not always appear, because, like all shy animals, he rarely shows himself in his true colors. Sometimes, horrible to relate, he pre- tends to know more than he does, or clasps his hand on his heart and simulates an emotional tempest in the presence of music which stirs him only slightly. Or he may patter learnedly the musical jargon which any fairly attentive reader of musical criticism can learn to speak without understanding more than one word in three. But in his heart of hearts the ignoramus has some- thing worth saving, and in his franker moods he confesses his own weaknesses, turning un- shamed to his phonograph and his records for help. He is worth considering in the great audi- ence of the phonograph and his wants should be thought of now and then. What does he want? First of all more and more records of music, new or old, which by some recognizable standard is worth the time he must give to it if he is to learn to like it. He does not welcome the duplication of a few masterpieces on many records, for he is rarely deeply interested in, or capable of judging wisely, the difference between this or that orchestra or conductor. In the second place he wants badly in the phono- graphic journals or elsewhere reviews which neither dive deeply into technicalities nor welter in vague and individual emotional impressionism. He wants to know first of all whether a record is as a record satisfactory and then a little about the general characteristics of the music—the things he should look for in hearing it, its rela- tion to other things he knows and likes, the eas- iest clues to appreciation. He wants books, too, to give him something in more detail, and he needs to have those books called to his attention by adequate reviews. Because he realizes how dependent he is on his phonograph he wants a little—not too much—on the proper use of it. Given a good standard machine he still wants a bit of information about needles—what choice to make in order that his records may last and sound their best. He needs especially warning of the ways in which the phonograph fails to give a true picture. He needs most of all, per- haps, constant reminders that after all the phono- graph can tell but part of the musical story and that only in actual performance can he hear it all. He ought to have something which no one seems interested in giving to the phonographic enthusiast, though every conductor gives it to his audience in every concert—program making. He goes to a concert and appreciates, unconsciously at least, the heightening of effect given individual pieces because of the way in which they are ar- ranged with others in a program. He wonders why no one now takes the trouble to suggest for the benefit of ignoramuses principles of program making or even actual programs of available rec- ords. He is grateful for all he gets, eager for more, and, if he is a true sample of his breed, an ardent champion of the movement to extend the use of the phonograph. Like Pilgrim he makes his way from the City of Destruction through the Slough of Despond, finds an Interpreter’s House, and goes beyond it, knowing that such gains as he makes he owes partly to himself, partly to good friends and allies, and partly to the aids fur- nished him for his quest. The musical Pilgrim’s Progress of the ignoramus is worth helping; he in his turn may help to make the way easier for others. To make the phonograph a real weapon for him and for them is surely a worthy ambition for those who make records, write of them, and create current phonographic history. Contributors To This Issue Ricardo M. Aleman is the distinguished Cuban lawyer, phonophile, and caricaturist. His collection of operatic re- cordings is probably one of the largest in existence. An auto- caricature of Dr. Aleman was published in the October issue in connection with a review of his book of caricatures. Kenneth B. Murdock is Associate Professor in English and Tutor in the Division of Modem Languages at Harvard Uni- versity. He has recently been appointed House Master of one of the Harvard Harkness Plan student houses now under con- struction. E. E. Shumaker is the President of the RCA Victor Com- pany, Inc.