Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1902-10-11
a CONFESSION IN E MINOR.
Humble kvovLI q One Who Found
No Melody In Classical Music.

No Melody In Classical Music.
Not that know in the least what II
means, this h miner, but 1t has such a
| satisfactory sound Aud the cOnfes-
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 a trained chorus
Of 700 voices.
Oratorlo they called It, and a fine.
mouth filling word 1t Is. When | I'D
mltted never having heard oratorio,
they expressed sympathy. You must
go" they said. Its grand, magnif-
cent, inspiring"
but | may not understand" l OBJ
jected. Classical music is beyond
me-"
"Oh. but every one can appreciate
oratorio. 1t is simple and yet majes-
tic. beautiful. Besides. the director
deyotes the evening before the per-
Torrance to an explanatory lecture
which tells you all about It,"
SO | went TO hear the director. 1t
was IN entertaining talk lie sketched
the dramatic story Of Elijah forcefully.
In the oratOrio we should hear. so he
said. how MendelssOhn had married
his music to the story; we should hear
how the strings walled in anguish Of
the stricken people Of Israel, how the
brasses voiced Jehovah's thunder.
enthused; FASTENED for tickets; | was
early in my seat.
AS spectacle 1t was impressive. for
we who listened were 10000, seated
In long human windows, while those
who sang were massed impressively
too. and uncomfortably also. mag
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 1,400 alert
eyes centercd 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 a storm. He raised his arm. The
hand holding TIE baton made Il quick
movement. From the big orchestra
burst Il volume OF music. The over
ture was begun. Grandly it swung
along until with n wavelike motion,
the chorus rose. a whole arm sweep
of the little stick and 700 voices were
blended into one mighty volume Of
sound.
1t was rs much like the roar Of surf
as anything had ever heard; but, at
least to my ears. Il WAS not music. In
vain did | listen for harmony, for mel
ody: in vain did | try to fit the sound
to the sense Help. Lord. wilt thou
quite destroy u.s." 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 and on they sang. the volume now
diminishing. now increasing; violins
wailing, cymbals ringing, drums thrOb-
bling, brasses braying-and poor me,
with no music in me, straining every
sense to grasp that which others heard.
But no music could hear Humbly
make the confessional was noise, just
a big noise, and nothing more.
BafIled and depressed. ! left the audi
forum and walked down to the edge
of the Atlantic. where the majestic or
chestra of old ocean was In the full
swing of its never ceasing chant OF
praise to the Director Of all things.
That, at least, | could understand
Sewell Ford In Brandur Magazine.