The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1916-1920, 1919-03-30

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will not improve on acquaintance7
All the promising works should be
repeated. If they sound worse the
second time instead OF better. then
let them enjoy an honorable retire.
ment. The writer Of this part OF The
SUN does not care to go into detail re-
garding the musical novelties of the
season. First Impressions have faded.
Memory is prone to play tricks. The
works ought to be heard again. But
the writer must confess that the things
which linger In his mind in these
spring days are personal. Perhaps
this betrays a reprehenslble earthiness
OF soul Why should a defender OF tho
faith grovel before personalities? Why
should he forget his Debussy TO bow
at the feet of Mary Garden or his
Beethoven to sing the praises OF Josef
Hofmann?
And yet what clings to the mind
save men, women and pianos? Out Of
the multitudinous army OF shadows
rises the picture of the great Caruso
celebration. One hears again the
pompous prattle Of the official fathead
who represented the municipality and
sympathetically observes tho Paliac-
clan hysteria Of the famous tenor as
he spasmodically clasped tho silken
standard to his lips and sobbed his
soul into 1t. The whole world was
deeply affected.
Or again one remembers the blazing
Caruso dinner at which even Helen
Moller appeared In fun dress and
gazed placidly down from the balcony
on the strange assemblase OF humans
comprising all sorts and conditions Of
men who listened in stupefied amaze
ment to the long drono Of compli-
mentary oratory of the most thor
oughly post-prandial type.
Yet other and better memories are
those OF the graphic art OF tho only
Rosina worth talking about, Rosina
CALI Of the ballet. There Is another
GALL, not Rosina, but Curci, and OF
| her, oh, Muse. sing no more. Let her
do her own singing. Oh, yes, there is
another memory recalled by this one.
It Is the memory OF the shrieks Of
laughter with which THE Sun chroni-
! cler read in the Times that tho Metro
politan Opera House was the place in
which good singing was most quickly
recognized and rewarded That Times
fellow Is surely a sad wag. and he
wears an enormous sleeve.
Behold the passing of the pianist
division-insignia, a sledge hammer on
the left shoulder. Led by their king
they have marched across the Western
world, Bauer and GabrDowitsch. Novaes
and Levitzki, Rachmaninov and the
laundering Thor OF Russia, ProkofieT
Men may come and men may go, but
pianists strike on forever. The num-
Der OF respectable performers is amaz-
Ing. and the slave of the typewriter
has to sit and listen to them and GO
away and cudgel his poor brain for
something to say that shall not read
like the hopeless damnntion OF faint
ing praise.
The whole thing becomes impossible
In tho beginning of the season the
scribbler creates a whirling rhapsody
of phrases after hearing of HOFFMAN,
and at the end of the same season he
goes home from master recital by
the same artist and writes a crat
canon in c fiat minor. Reader know.
est what is a crab canon? 1t Is d
perfectly useless kind OF music which
reads the same either backward oil
forward. 1t is a shameful libel on the
crab, whose meat is OF good repute
especially when disnlfled by the
appellation OF cocktail.
Farewell. a long farewell to al
our cocktails" A hundred year,
hence, when Hdntlet sings his drinking
song in Ambroise Thomas's lemon
soda version OF the tragedy. little chill.
dren will ask their mothers whether
In the old times people really felt Il
necessary to troll silly ditties and wave
their glasses over their heads wher
about to imbibe their peaceful grape
Juice.
, so, patient peruser of the page. 20,
| grasp the profound truth that the his
torian of a season sits at its end Ar