The Press., 1903-11-05
A MUSICAL
NATION
By RAYMOND RAYNE
Copyright. 1908, by I. @. Mcclure

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| Among the many unpleasant tasks
which fall to the lot of concert agent
not the least difficult is to decline the
tempting offers Of certain yirtuos
without hurting their very sensitive
feelings.
When Pan Ogle Trepanowski wrote
to me from Poland in this sense, my
first impulse was to indite very firm
refusal. Reading his letter second
time, however, l gathered from the
mixture of English and what appeared
to be Volapuk, in which hts intentions
were conveyed, that he was following
on its heels with such truly artistic
impetuosity that no reply could pos.
sibly reach him in time to prevent his
departure.
All his qualifications were duly set
forth. OF course his hair (he inclosed
a photography and his names were un.
exceptional; the rest did not 60 into,
1t was quite out of the question for me
to run any pianoforte virtuoso on my
own account. unless indeed it had been
the Paderewski himself.
On the morning Of the 14th l re-
ceived a telegram couched in these
terms: Locomotive twelve hours per-
NIT that one encounters me to the sta.
ton Trepanowski" On solving this
he had evidently got 1t word by word
from dictionary gathered that the
professor was coming by way of Que.
bee on the IL o'clock train, and wanted
to be met at the station.
l went down myself and saw the
train in. Pan Ogle was there-a private
detective could not have missed him.
He stood well over six feet and was
broad even for his height. Despite the
warmth of a summers day he wore
an immense fur lined overcoat with
collar and cuffs Of sable.
He spoke English rather worse than
he wrote it, but fortunately understood
fairly we'll what was said to him. He
was full Of questions about the series
Of concerts which he supposed l had
already arranged for him. avoided
giving any definite replies as well as
could until we reached the house.
During luncheon l was saved any
trouble by the artists appetite which
my housekeeping. We retired to the
music room, and l got Pan Ogle behind
a big cigar before breaking to him that
I had not yet arranged any concerts.
l told him that many most deserving
foreign artists spent their first decade
in New York in playing for nothing at
the functions of wealthy patrons of
the art and In giving their services at
charity concerts, or, in fact, wherever
two or three could be gathered together
to hear them. l said that was popu-
lar error into which all Europe seemed
to have fallen. ! told him we were the
most musical nation in the world.
sank my voice to a confidential whis-
per. l said, 1.-The real reason we cannot
get audiences is that for some tifne past
listeners have been to a man Tor wO-
mani better performers than those on
the platform" ~,
Pan Ogle looked incredulous. 1t was
time to lead trumps. said, II will
wager anything you like that the first
tradesman who calls at this house this
afternoon will play you any one of
Beethoven's sonatas you choose to
name"
Pan Ogle laughed aloud.
You make what you call re fun, Is
1t not?" he asked. 81 q.
II was never more serious in my,
l1fe," replied. rang the bell, and the
servant entered. .. .,r
"Parkin," said, TASK the first trades
man who calls to step up here"
"Mr. Blunt, the pork butcher, is down
stairs now, SIR" said Parkin.
."Well, ask him to spare me a mo-
ment or two" g. r.
kin and disappeared. -a'
The door opened, and Mr.. Blunt
walked in. He was in his shirt sleeves
and had on the blue apron which seems
inseparable from the vending of pork.
what can l do for you today, sir?"
he said. II have just started a new
line of sausages which can thorough
ly recommend. 1 call them the Dimin-
uendo brand merely for distinction.
They taper toward one end, you see.''
I suppressed a smile.
'It was not in connection with your
-er-professiOn that l wanted to see
you, Mr.. Blunt. Do you play the pi-
amor
'Well, 1 do, sir, or, rather, did. In
fact, l very much wanted to go in for
the music when left school, but my
father would not hear of it. He said
there was no money in it. The music
business is played out he would say.
There are too many at it. But the art
Of making sausages will always pro-
vide a competency for the few"
.'Quite true, Mr.. Blunt" l assented.
Now, the professor and are at issue
as to the tempo of a movement in one
Of Beethoven's sonatas, and 1 should
be greatly obliged If you would play it
to us. 1t is the first movement Of opus
s."
TALLY on the piano stool, presenting
singularly unmusical, spectacle.
II have not had any practice for
months; still to oblige a customer" and
he. struck the commanding phrase
which begins the introduction.
Before he had played many bars the
pork butcher had disappeared and the
artist was revealed. The colossal
phrases of Beethoven's last sonata
were given out with a certainty, a re-
strained force, nobility Of tone, an all
compelling rhythm, which took the lis
tener by the throat.
Pan Ogle Trepanowski leaned for.
ward in his chair and gasped for breath
Whea the last chord had died away
there was a hushed pause. Then the
professor burst forth into a torrent of |
polyglot superlatives. He embraced the
reluctant pork butcher. He demanded |
Of me why such player did not devote |
himself to the career Of a virtuoso. |
assured him that Mr.. Blunt was fair
specimen of the public to whom artists |
had to appeal in America.
81 don't know whether you are aware
Of 1t" said Blunt, speaking to me, ''but !
your two servants are capital hands at