Shadowland (Mar-Aug 1923)

Musical Retrospect and Prospect Jerome Hart FOR those who have to deal with musical matters day by day, currente calamo, the past musical season has been an exhausting one. It has only been possible to indulge in more or less hasty impressions. Serious analysis of any new work, however interesting and important, has been almost out of the question, and if one were to try to put together a collected volume of current musical criticism from the diurnal mass of matter which has been published with regard to opera, symphony and other musical performances in New York, it would shed little light on the intrinsic value and salient characteristics of new and important musical works. Especially would one be puzzled by the disparity of opinion, in fact this is very evident in the pages of Mr. Key's Musical Digest. Of course one cannot expect absolute agreement on any subject which is open to controversial discussion, and especially with respect to music, appreciation of which is so largely a matter of individual taste. And now that the recognized rules of musical composition are going by the board, and each and every composer feels at liberty to follow the dictates of his own sweet will, the critics are more or less at sea, and have no standards by which to judge that which is submitted for their consideration. Some of them hesitate to express their own opinions and reactions to this or that new work of the ultra-modern school. Musical history, they are apt to remember, is replete with the errors of contemporary criticism. So far as we know, no critic has ever been denounced for acclaiming a spurious genius. You may hail as many musical shams as you please, and nobody is much the worse. Your comments are forgotten. The Michael Bohnen, bassbarytone of the Metropolitan Opera, as Francesco in Max Schilling's opera, Mona Lisa Mishkin champions of Mahler are forgotten, if not forgiven. But condemn the works of a Brahms or a Wagner, and you become a spectacle for all time — witness Davison of the London Times and Hanslick, the German critic. However, there is less risk of condemning that which is intrinsically excellent in these days of sheer ugliness and sensationalism. It is not difficult to discern that the rejection of rules, the revolt against beauty, the utter discordancy and jazzing of modern music is a sign of the unsettled times and is merely a passing phase. Nevertheless, in the midst of much which is unredeemedly ugly and perverse may be found gleams of beauty and flashes of genius, and they often shine with such brilliance as to encourage the hope that out of much which is evil good may come, and that it will be possible to preserve and develop new forms which will be of abiding value. The craving for independence and originality on the part of our young moderns is easy to understand, and not difficult to sympathize with. But in some instances that craving is merely a desire to astonish and shock and to be talked about — that is, it is merely vanity. Instead of being independent, as some of the ultras flatter themselves, they are really showing their dependence on the opinion of others. And now to attempt to synthetize, but not to particu**• larize, one's own impressions of the musical season just past. Little fresh ground has been broken, few new and brilliant lights have made themselves visible in the musical firmament, no epoch-making composition has been heard, and yet, as Galileo murmured, "it moves." Of course the little school, clique, or gang — whichever Page Forty-Four