Virginia citizen. (Irvington, Va.) 1891-1921, 1902-10-10
A CONFESSION IN E MINOR.
Humble AvowRi OF One who Found
No Melody In CIas.ieur Mu.t.

Humble AvowRi OF One who Found
NO Melody In Classical Music.
Not that know In the least what II
means. this Il minor. but It has such n
satisfactory sound. And the confess
sion has TO do with Music-music with
big Nj; no commonplace parlor mu-
sic, thank you, but pretentious. pro-
fessional, poster heralded, high art mu-
sic; music made by an orchestra of
forty pieces and by trained chorus
of 700 voices.
Oratorio they called it, and a fine.
mouth filling word it is. When l ad-
mitted never having heard oratorio.
they expressed sympathy. 'You must
co. they said. It's grand, magnifi-
cent, inspiring"
But 1 may not understand" 1 OBJ
jected. Classical music is beyond
me-"
"Oh. but every one can appreciate
oratorio- 1t is simple and yet males
tic, beautiful. Besides, the director
deyotes the evening before the per
torrance to an explanatory lecture
which tells you all about it."
So i went to- hear the director. II
was an entertaining talk He sketched
the dramatic story of Elijah forcefully.
In the oratorio we should hear. SO he
said, how AIendelssohn had married
his music to the story; we should hear
how the strings walled in anguish of
the stricken people of Israel. how the
Drasses voiced Jehovah's thunder.
enthused; FASTENED for tickets: | wns
early in my seat.
AS spectacle IL was impressive. for
we who listened were 1900. seated
in long human windrows, while those
VINO sang were masscd imprcssively.
too. and uncomfortably also, | !mar-
Inc, In rows that lowered one above
the other from platform to ceiling. In
the center was the big orchestra. and
In front were the professional soloists.
AS one emerging from the sea the
leader mounted his perch AS he looked
calmly about the gaze of 1.4OO alert
eyes conferred on the little stick he held
In his hand. With the little stick he
raped on the rail of his perch. There
fell hush like that which comes be-
fore storm. He raised his arm. The
hand holding the baton made q quick
movement From the big orchestra
burst volume of music. The over.
ture was begun. Grandly It swung
along until, with wavelike motion.
the chorus rose. a whole arm sweep
of the little stick and 200 voices were
blended into one mighty volume of
sound.
1t was os much like the roar of surf
as anything l had ever heard; but. Mt
least TO my ears, u was not music. In
vain did l listen for harmony. for mel
ody; in vain did try TO tit the sound
to the sense. Help, Lordl wilt thou
quite destroy usf' These were the
words they were repeating, over and
over again; not with any regard TO
their tragic meaning, so far as could
discover, but according to some arbi-
trary form fixed by the Composer.
On ana on they sang, the volume now
diminishing. now increasing; violIns
wniling, cymbais ringing, drums throb-
bling, brasses braying-and poor me.
win no music in me- straining every
sense TO grasp that which others heard.
But no music could hear. Humbly
make the confession--it was noise. tust
q big noise, and nothing more.
Baflied and depressed, / left tho nufi-
torium and walked down TO the edge
OF the Atlantic, where the majestic or.
chestra or old ocean was I'm the full
swing or its never ceasing chant OF
praise TO the Director OF all things.
That, at least, could understand
Sewel Ford In Brandur Magazine.