Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-02-14

IT am never merry when / hear
sweet music. "-"Merchant of Venice. -
The test of melancholy is one which
may be applied with certainty to most
music. The great compositions are
those which impress a certain mood
of sadness upon the listener, whether
he be conscious of it or not.
Nor is this feeling dependent upon
the whim or imagination of the one
so affected. There is something in
the very construction of Sweet
music which so strikes the soul.
Have you not heard some simple, out
right person say II do not like music
it makes me sad"?.
This is surely one of the little-dis-
cussed drawbacks of music, that it
introduces into life elements of sad
ness when what the world needs is
more joy.
1t will not do to say that surely
n Sousa march or the latest popular
foX-trot' success is not gloomyi
The march, after all, is only II very
small segment Of musical composition,
and the fox.trot, compared with a
master work, is hardly music at all;
certainly no more than "puppet
music" at the most.
The real music Of the world con-
tains a throb that is so elemental that
it hurts. a vague sweetness that is
akin to tears, and which has nothing
to do with tempo or form, being as
much present in q whirling Chopin
waltz as in the lullaby which strikes
uneasy recollections of sadness into
every listener. There seems to be
something inherently mournful in
most of the greatest music ever writ
ten, not only in the grander compost
tons, but in the lesser folk songs of
the nations. The fact that many of
these latter so often treat such themes
as death and loss has not much to
do with it, as the plain music, with
out the words, carries the same
mournful implications.
Thus, reduced to elementals, music
in the form of Stephen Foster
melody, such as "Massa's in the Cold,
Cold Ground" is recognized by every
one as falling in the category In
which it was placed by Shakespeare.
A Washingtonian recently discov
cred the innate sadness Of sweet music
in an unexpected manner.
He was i'll, being laid up with the
influenza, too sick to read tired Of
just looking out the window and
watching the birds and ayiators all
day long.
1t would be good thing, he thought,
If he would have the radio installed in
his sick chamber. He had always read
how patients in hospitals enjoyed els
tening-in." He had never given the
matter a seconds thought. Certainly
they enjoyed it, How could they
help it?
He had never calculated. however
on the strange quality Of sweet sound
which makes for sad
ness. He was to find that out after
his radio was brought up from down
stairs.
"Now," he said to himself, II will
have something to cheer me up, some
thing to relieve the ennui."
He already had taken something to
relieve nausea, something to relieve
a cough, something for fever. some
thing for sore throat. This was to be
to pep up" the spirits. es
tablish the morale on firmer basis,
put smiles on the mental horizon.
Radio is so helpful!
Well, the program time arrived. The
switch was pulled and the loud speak
err began to function.
This is station XYZ." said the
poppy announcer. You are about to
hear the weekly hymn singers. The
first number will be announced in a
Shortly our patient was listening to
the beautiful old hymn:
lone sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me DER and DER,
I am nearer home today
Than have ever been before;
Nearer my Fathers house,
Where the many mansions be;
1 L 1fN
Nearer the Jasper sea"
1t was Phoebe Carey's masterpiece.
He had loved it for a lifetime in its
fine and appropriate setting.
While this was undoubtedly an un-
fortunate beginning. the hymn tunes
were not responsible for the undeni |
ably disastrous effect the program had |