The Vinita daily chieftain. [volume] (Vinita, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1902-1913, 1912-10-28
in the vineyard of classic

laborers in the vineyard of classic
love.
Basil Gauntlet has played in Vinita,
and to those whose good fortune it was
to hear him, his name will never be
forgotten.
He is young, and in the springtime
of a career which is to be marvellous.
Musical critics of high standing have
pronounced in his interpretations and
technical renditions of the works of
the great masters from which his Sc
Iections are taken to form programs
rivaling in excellence those of our very
greatest recognized pianists. One
must indeed wonder at his extensive
knowledge OF these works to arrange
a program of selections seldom played
by other artists and each one so diff
ferent in style that varied emotions is
the result; Joy and sorrow chasing
each other to and fro in our hearts as
our ears listen and minds respond to
the music made by his flying fingers. Z
His memory is also wonderful, and
there seems to be no limit to the rep
ertoire he is able to have ready at a
moments notice.
To understand Is it so difficult
after all? Even one untutored, it
seems could keep in mind the delicate
yet forceful theme by Handel with one
variation after another from the pen
lof Brahms. They follow each other with
lightning like rapidity, and were SO
beautifully played that each was in
itself a finished gem of excellence.
The Sonata in B minor by Chopin
gave the artist a splendid opportunity
to display his wonderful versatility in
technique and clearness of melody; the
playing of octaves, and the delicate
scale work which occurred in the
finale.
In "Harmonies of Night" who could
not hear at first the sweet evening
song before good nights had been said;
afterwards, there seemed to be still
ness, broken only by the twitter of a
night bird or rustic of leaves from the
blowing of gentle breezes. Then, the
wind changed, and suddenly became
stiff and fierce; the patter of the rain
drops is heard on the roof, grows
louder, and at last the storm breaks
furiously. You can hear the loud peals
of thunder and almost see the flashes
of lightning as the Earl King RACES in
the dead of night. But soon it passes;
the thunder ceases its roaring the
wind dies away with mournful sigh,
and the rain growing less is heard
fainter and fainter-ceases entirely,
and all is still
| 1t is only great artist who can
speak so to the soul. Only one with
the power to take the works of an
lother and thus interpret, who can
bring out the meaning and make it
clear
1t is in the List Ballade (No. y,
J that we hear the sweet song like mel
ody above the rush and roar and clash
of harmony that comprises the com
plex working of the theme, which only
finished pianist could handle even
at all.
Mr., Gauntlet played other selections
equally as beautiful as these, ending
with THE Waves" by Moskowski; an
exquisite composition played in Sc
mastery a style that the waves OF
ocean seemed around about us, and
our little boat was dancing to theiI
song.
/ We complain of our limitations and
this must ever be; but in the hearts
of many there is a spirit of combative
ness, ever paramount which causes
them to cleave ever to the things they
think they love, rather than branch
out at times and give new pleasures
trial.
When the curtain raises on the bred
painted faces of third rate opera
chorus, or the stage setting for al
ordinary drama with poor actors ant
scant scenery, the lover of the Show
is thrilled with delight all his own
as the audience were thrilled last night
at the dainty setting for the evenings
entertainment, and yet. these too have
in days gone by felt the same emotion
at the raising of the curtain on the
chorus of the cheap show; only they
Ihave grown out of 1t, and are more OF
less blaze; enduring rather than en-
joying many a performance they at
tend. Just as a reader of much stale
4 fiction finds a day that the human
mind Graves something new, and seeks