Read Ebook: Music and Its Masters by Boise O B Otis Bardwell
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page
Ebook has 295 lines and 30627 words, and 6 pages
PAGE. PREFACE 9
SUGGESTIONS TO PARENTS 17
A WORD TO PARENTS 331
PRESS NOTICES 332
PREFACE
SUNDAY ought to be the most cheerful, sunniest, happiest and best day of the week in every home. In most homes it is the dullest and most dreary day of the week to the children, and the most taxing and the most wearying to the parents, especially to the mother. It not only ought to be, but it can be made, not only the brightest and happiest but also the most influential in the character-building and religious training of the children. In some households Sunday is looked forward to with anticipations of pleasure throughout the entire week. In these homes, the father does not come down stairs on Sunday morning and say: "Now, children, gather up those flowers, throw them out of the window, pull down the blinds, get down the Bible and we will have an awful solemn time here to-day." Neither is the day given to frivolity or the home to demoralizing influences. From morning until night there are two great principles that govern; first, the sacredness of the day, and second, the sacredness of the God-given nature of childhood. The day is not spent in repressing the child nature by a succession of "don't do that," "now stop that," etc., that begin in the morning and continue throughout the day, and end only when the little ones lose consciousness in sleep on Sunday night. In these homes, the parents recognize the fact that the child nature is the same whether the day is secular or sacred. On Sunday the child nature is not repressed, but the childish impulses are directed into channels suited to the sacredness of the day. In such homes the children, instead of being sorry that it is Sunday, are glad; instead of regretting the return of the day with dislike and dread, they welcome it as the brightest, the cheeriest and the best of all the week.
The purpose of the author in the preparation of this book in its present illustrated and slightly changed form, is to afford all parents a valuable aid in making Sunday not only the brightest, happiest and best day of the entire week for both parents and children, but also to aid the parents to make Sunday pre-eminently the day around which shall cluster throughout the entire life of each child the sweetest, tenderest and most sacred recollections of childhood, of father and mother and of brother and sister, and especially of their knowledge of the Bible and of everything sacred.
Did it ever occur to you, as a parent, that between the birth and the age of twenty-one years there are three solid years of Sundays--an amount of time almost equal to the number of years given to an entire course of college training? The Creator has not laid upon parents the responsibilities of parenthood without giving them ample time and opportunity to discharge these obligations to Him, to themselves, and to their children.
The idea which has been successfully demonstrated in hundreds of homes, where the impulses and natural inclinations of childhood have been turned into sacred channels on Sundays so as to enable the parents to teach spiritual truths in the most effective manner, is the method which is suggested by the author to the parents in the use, on Sunday afternoons, of the fifty-two little sermons given in this volume.
I knew a mother who regularly on Sunday afternoons gathered her children about her and read them religious books and literature. In her considerable family, every child became eminently useful. One, who was a university professor, told me that those Sunday afternoons with his mother in the nursery embodied the most formative influences of his life.
I know another family, of some seven or eight children, where Sunday was always used for religious instruction with the children. With the reading and other things, they always "played church", and the experience of those early childhood days made the boys splendid public talkers, and the girls were also very capable in the same direction. No better school of oratory was ever organized.
I know another family of four children, where the entire family looked forward throughout the week to the special and larger pleasure which Sunday always brought. They grew up naturally into a religious life, and developed that ability for public address and service which could not so well be gained in any other way.
Sunday is about the only day in most of households where the father is home with his family. It adds greatly to the pleasure and impressiveness of the day and its services if the father, with the mother, enters heartily into the spirit of that which will be all the more enjoyed by the children. It will enable him also to stamp his personality deeper into the character of his children than possibly any other opportunity which may be afforded him in life.
These brief object talks grew out of the necessities found in the author's own parish. When called to the pastorate of the Second English Lutheran Church, of Baltimore, I found a depleted congregation, while at the same time the Sunday-school was one of the largest and most flourishing in the city. It was then for the first time that I introduced regularly the preaching of "Five-minute object sermons" before the accustomed sermon on Sunday morning. In a very brief period, about one-fourth of the infant department and two-thirds of the main department of the school were in regular attendance upon the Sunday morning service, and, even after this particular form of address had been discontinued, the teachers and scholars continued regularly to come direct from the morning session of the school to the services of the church.
These sermons were preached without notes, were subsequently outlined and then spoken into the phonograph, put in manuscript by a phonographer, and, that the simplicity of style and diction might be preserved, were printed with only slight verbal changes.
The objects used in illustrating these talks have been chosen from among the ordinary things of every-day life. Such objects have the advantage of being easily secured, and on account of their familiarity also prove more impressive, and being more often seen, more frequently recall to mind the truths taught.
Music's progress has not been uniform, for it is most sensitive, and the conditions have often been unfavorable. It has followed, to a great degree, the tidal fluctuations of refinement and fine sensibility in the masses; for although its growth is dependent upon certain conditions, these necessary conditions, if confined within narrow limits, or when found only in isolated persons, will not suffice.
It must breathe a free air, full of sympathetic feeling and impulse, and it must have a broad, deep soil in which to spread its roots, for it aspires heavenward, up through the material into the ideal.
The growth of music from its initial stage to an art is quite analogous, except in time consumed, to the growth of each talent to maturity, or of each musical conception to full expression. They all move on towards realization, impelled by art instinct and imagination. The composer of to-day has a legendary past, full of romance and heart-throbs, and a warm, sympathetic present, to stimulate his fancy, but it required ages of joy, sorrow, love, and culture to quicken and refine man's stoical nature. The soil which nourishes our imaginations has been made fertile by the blood and tears of countless generations.
MUSIC'S FIRST ERA, AND THE INFLUENCES WHICH WERE OPERATIVE IN VARIOUS LANDS DURING ITS CONTINUANCE
There are two distinct eras in the course of the evolution of music. The first ended and the second began with the invention and adoption of notation. This mechanical device so revolutionized musical production and taste, that we may properly concede to it the honor of having made possible the formulation of our art, for it chronicled the accomplishments of each generation, thus furnishing its successors with suggestive models. These were virtually lacking in the first era, which accounts amply for the little advancement made during its continuance.
That early career of music is shrouded in utter darkness, unbroken by a single luminous episode, and the lights which we are enabled to throw back upon it are entirely deductive.
They are not sufficiently strong to bring details into relief, but they suffice to develop outlines which are ample for the purposes of my sketch. The fact that the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Chinese devoted much attention to what some are pleased to call the science, or technic, of music is to me no indication of the condition of music existing at that time. Their libraries contained numerous volumes devoted to music, but their treatises considered melody from a purely mathematical stand-point. This vital element of music, which should be as free as air, was fettered by pedantry.
I feel convinced that the evolution of music was seriously delayed by this too early association with science. China has perpetuated this system of vassalage, the result being that her present temple melodies, which also serve as folk-songs, are utterly devoid of plastic grace and spontaneity. The fallibility of long lines of oral transmission casts doubt upon the Chinaman's claim that he inherits at least a portion of these songs, in their original form, from a period four thousand years back; still, there is one feature of the situation which, in a measure, substantiates it,--viz., the instinct for imitation that distinguishes this race from all others.
Evolution involves removal from an elementary state, and we measure its advancement through placing the present outlines and qualities, of whatever may be concerned, over against those that characterized some known previous condition.
China has produced some great scholars, and her civilization, such as it is, endures like the everlasting hills, and seems subject to little more change than they, but her people are not emotional, imaginative, nor susceptible to influences from without. The great wonder is not that real art feeling has never manifested itself in China, nor that she has repulsed all attempts to introduce the fruits of European musical culture, but that the Chinaman, with his nature, should have ever evoked our muse. China has contributed nothing to the development of music, and we cannot draw one spark of light from her for our investigations. The Mongolian race treated their feeble first musical impulse as they still do the feet of high-caste female children,--viz., they wrapped it so tightly in pedantic cerements that it could not grow; and, being an impulse, and not flesh and bones, it failed to endure the repression.
Although these ancient scientific treatises afford no clues to the actual spirit and form of contemporaneous musical utterances, they do bespeak the presence of interest and respect. As I have shown, this condition was of no service in China, but as the Egyptian and Greek people and culture were of a quite different substance and mould, we may safely infer that their efforts were important features in this preparatory era.
The light which we are enabled to throw backward over the line of musical evolution is drawn from the following sources: 1, the nature of music itself, and the first purposeful use of its germs; 2, its present condition among barbarous peoples; 3, profane history of ancient Egypt; 4, its development in pace with that of the Aryan race; and, 5, Biblical references .
NATURE OF MUSIC
It is a gross misconception to regard music as merely a "concord of sweet sounds," for that would be a barren art which had no contrasting features. Much great music is not beautiful, for it may be tragical, sombre, or may voice any of the moods incident to life. Euphony was doubtless one of the last developed qualities, for it springs from joy, love, or reverence. We must look among the coarser emotions for the germ which was first used in tone expression.
In that prehistoric time, at the beginning of what might be called soul tenantry, man, whether created or evolved, being the first of his line, had no fruits of human experience to guide him, and his emotional status could therefore have differed little from that of the higher grades of soulless creatures. We learn from history that since it began its annals animal nature has remained virtually unchanged, whereas man, because possessed of a higher grade of intellect and a definite recognition of Deity, in one form or another, has refined and broadened the scope of his impulses and understanding. As it is the first subjective, and not objective, manifestation of tone expression that we are seeking, we cannot do better than to scan this feature of animal life.
Such manifestations result from the sequential co-operation of emotion, reason, and impulse. Animals have their growls, roars, and trumpetings of anger and defiance, and many of them have forms of expressing affection, but these latter are acquired through experience, whereas they instinctively appeal to agencies outside themselves for relief from pain or want, employing means the efficacy of which they recognize. If we turn to humankind, we find that the new-born babe will express its desire for food long before it becomes responsive to its mother's endearments.
I, therefore, assume that pleading was the first purposeful, premeditated form of tonal communication, and, consequently, that it was the nucleus about which experience and culture have gathered such ample resources.
This first developed element has never relinquished its prominence, for it is the mood which most often pervades the composer's tone pictures. We find it depicted, as prompted by each and all phases of human insufficiency, appealing to appropriate sources for relief,--the oppressed entreating the tyrant, the lover the object of his affection, and the finite world, prostrate before Infinity, pouring its hopes and aspirations into the Divine ear.
Now occurs a period of unmeasurable time upon which we can throw no light. It extends from this first manifestation up to that stage in evolution which produced forms of tonal expression like those now employed by the lowest savage races. Some time during this unexplorable period, man having appropriated a fuller vocabulary from nature's store, and having adopted more sustained, and at the same time articulate, forms, was led to feel pulsations,--incipient rhythm. Whether this primitive conception of metre was suggested by associated word successions, or was incident to the extension of tonal expression itself, we can only conjecture, but rhythmic impulse is evident in, and it is the main feature of, the crudest musical efforts.
MUSIC OF THE SAVAGE RACES
Science has long busied itself with race origin. It has approached the problem from every side, and has accomplished so much towards its solution as to afford grounds upon which to base the assumptions that the diverse types of mankind, as they now exist, are each physically, morally, and mentally the outcome of conditions of which climate, soil, and degrees of isolation have been the most potent factors; and that these branches which have spread out to cover the world spring from one common family trunk. Even within the limits of historic time migrations have been caused either by climatic changes or by the dissensions incident to over-population.
When the savages of the South Sea Islands became detached, and whether of their own volition or through a dispensation of Providence, which caused the Pacific Ocean to isolate them from less pestiferous humanity, will never be known. It must, however, have taken place after the idea of at least limited tone expression had taken a firm hold on mankind and had become a transmittible instinct, for these savages evince little more disposition or capacity for originating than the more intelligent species of animals. I cite these people and their lyric status to mark the lowest ebb in things human and musical of which we have any knowledge.
Their music and habits are alike crossed by the line which separates the human from the animal, and it is needless to say which quality contributes the larger portion. Their songs are, like their language, ejaculatory, showing little exercise of reason in their forms, and voicing the baser emotions solely. Rude rhythms are the only features that attest their origin in musical impulse. Music in its course of evolution had necessarily to pass through this primitive stage. In more congenial environments it passed on and out, but these barbarians, being neither emotionally nor intellectually capable of imparting the impetus requisite to the development of finer and broader significance, have for thousands of years used their present crude forms. Their stage comes in touch with music's line of evolution at a period countless years before David sang.
From a letter in response to my inquiries as to the musical status of these barbarians, written by Count Pfeil, who has most closely observed their customs during twenty years spent in exploring the dark continent and these darker islands, I infer that their barbarism has grades analogous to those that exist in the culture of civilized nations.
In speaking of the two musical instruments in use Graf Pfeil says, "They are the 'Tutupele' on New Britain and Duke of York, and a sort of pan pipe or flute on the Solomon Islands. The former may hardly be called an instrument. It is used in connection with the superstitious ceremonies of the Dult-Dult practice, and is supposed to herald the appearance of the spirits. Two pieces of wood are carved down till they sound two neighboring notes, such as c-d, g-a, or f-g. They are then placed over a little hollow dug in the ground, and are beaten with small club sticks....
"The other instrument is used by the Solomon Islanders. They assemble three or four men, each armed with his flute, of which the largest pipe is about three feet in length, with a two-inch internal diameter. There are five of these pipes in each instrument. They are made of bamboo, and played by being raised to the lips and strongly blown into. The sound, especially when heard from a long distance, which robs it of its harshness, is not at all unpleasant, but has rather a melodious, though sad, character. The few men who play these instruments begin turning round and round, and others, wishing to join in the dance, gather round them, also moving in a circle. When a hundred dancers perform, those on the outside run at a headlong speed, while those forming the centre spin, but very slowly. The dancers accompany the players by very curious half-whistling sounds, which sound like the twitter of birds. The louder and shriller the sounds the prettier they are thought to be....
"On the Duke of York, boys have a curious, cruel way of procuring music. They take a large beetle and break off one of its legs. In the remaining stump they push a lot of elastic gum, of which they hold the other end. The beetle is now made to fly, but not being able to get away from the boy's hand, keeps circling round and round it, emitting a loud whirring or humming sound....
"All these races sing. Their songs are very monotonous, but are defined, like our own. You can ask them to sing such or such a song, and they will always sing it exactly as they sang it before. All songs are sung in a subdued voice, as the melancholy and suspicious character of the people prevents all loud demonstrations of mirth.... I have never heard their songs accompanied by any instrument, excepting at a dance, when, to my sorrow, combined vocal and instrumental efforts served as an accompaniment to the dance."
The North American Indians, despite the demoralizing influences of traders, agencies, and fire-water, are noble men as compared with the cannibals just considered. Many of their less amiable traits are doubtless the fruits of white intruders' avarice, which has from the first set aside equity when dealing with the red man. They live having a future state in view in the happy hunting-grounds, which stimulates in them a strict, but not too comprehensive, moral consciousness. Those conditions of life which mould race characteristics have in the case of the North American Indian developed bodily activity, close observation, bravery, and reasoning faculties, though crude. They lack delicate sensibility and imagination, but still in them we find nomadic manhood at its best, and their music mirrors their character.
Their phenomenal capacity for reading and interpreting nature's chronicle of the movements of living things, and its continual exercise, have blinded them, in a great degree, to the beauties of landscape. They devote themselves to the analysis of details instead of to the contemplation of the Creator's harmonious ensemble, and they consequently develop little sense for the beautiful. The fundamental manifestation of this sense is, in normally endowed man, an appreciation of the forms and colors of material things. Upon this sense we may build responsiveness to the intangible and ideal, but without it we have no foundation for aesthetic taste. I can think of nothing more incongruous than an atmosphere of Bach fugues or Beethoven symphonies for a man who sees only tons of hay, feet of lumber, water-power, etc., while gazing upon nature's grand panorama. The music of the North American Indian is neither euphonious nor romantic, but it is distinctly more human than that of the South Sea Islanders, and its varying tribal phases permit the inference that it has, in their keeping, accumulated resources, however slight they may seem.
The Indian's character and music throw light upon the course of evolution during the first era, inasmuch as they, contrasted with those of the cannibal races, tend to substantiate my claim that sound expression takes its cue from attendant culture, advancing in pace with it.
PROFANE HISTORY OF ANCIENT EGYPT
At that remotest period upon which the historian can throw light the Valley of the Nile was the scene of undertakings the fruits of which have ever since excited the wonder of the world. The Pyramids, the somewhat later-built Palace of Karnak, and Temples of Luxor and Ipsambul stand first among the phenomenal conceptions of human architects; and the mechanical skill required in handling the massive blocks and pillars of which they are composed would severely test the appliances of our practical and inventive age. These monumental buildings, their consistent environments, and the deciphered records of scientific and literary accomplishments in those earliest historic times, bespeak broad culture. As we possess no record of a race from whom the Egyptians could have drawn either stimulus or knowledge itself, their culture was presumably indigenous, and therefore of slow growth. The Palace of Karnak, for instance, marks the climax of accomplishment in a line of architectural endeavor which may have begun soon after the Nile commenced making her alluvial deposits.
The persistent and audacious ambition which this long course of development attests, and the art feeling expressed in their works, endows Egyptian interest in music, as evinced through the scientific treatises mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, with especial significance. They were more learned and less pedantic than the Chinese, and were, besides, emotional and imaginative, although sadly superstitious. Had that high enlightenment permeated all classes of the people, Egypt would have been an Elysium for our art, but it was, unfortunately, confined to the upper social grades, which embraced the priests, and to a certain extent the warriors.
The masses, in company with prisoners of war and slaves from Central Africa, were mere servitors to the monarchs and priests in executing their ambitious schemes. Although their labor built up indubitable testimony to the greatness of their masters, the burdens imposed upon them century after century finally wore away their fealty; therefore the decadence and downfall of great Egypt. There could not possibly have been anything like art enthusiasm among a people so oppressed. Despite this vital lack, ancient Egypt did more, directly and indirectly, to foster music, and to give it an onward impulse, than all other agencies of the first era combined. This was somewhat attributable to the fact that then, for the first time, tone expression was associated with rhythmic texts; still, I infer that their music was merely an accessory to euphonious declamation,--subservient to poetry,--for had their melodies possessed independent import, those resourceful people would have found some way of recording them. These relations between music and poetry were perpetuated in Greece; indeed, our art was not accorded equality as a contributive element in song until in quite modern times. There have been several distinct epochs in this relationship,--viz., that in which tone expression, because of its little understood capacities was held in vassalage to her sister art; music's equality , during which she greatly extended and beautified her forms; her ascendency, which characterized the vocal works of the early part of the present century; and now the Wagner school, in which the two are again made to collaborate on equal terms.
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page