Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-03-09

ERR MULLER nopped his brow and
III ;:s Is: e: :: :: :-'', stein '..', :.
Presently the waiter pumped down
. fresh dripping one with obsequlouS
"Also" and was off again. Dark, foaming Low
enbrau. straight from Muncheon. Herr Muller
WAS not stinting himself in quality or guam
tity today.
..Yes-the young rascal writes music. Real
music" He nodded portentously to himself.
RUNNING a fragment of tune, he toyed with
. the big stein, lifting it cautiously until the
damp mat dropped of the bottom to the table.
His mild, round face was flushed.
"And know good music-even an upStart
writes it." BY way Of emphasis he emptied
good two-thirds of the stein in one great swal-
low. He could not have said wnetner IL was
the seventh or seventeenth stein before him.
In truth, the opinion of Herr Muller ON
rn,licaI matters deserved respect Behind them
were 40 long years at the first oboe desk OF
the excellent symphony orchestra Of the small
city of Freifurt. He was admittedly the anleSt
musician of the band and his dependabilty
was almost a superstition. In fact, those players
who could think back that far often declared
he had never been known to miss performance
blow a cracked tone, or even indulge in an ordi-
nary fit Of oboist nerves.
These young ROSTERS get one tiny piece
played for them and-prestol-they are young
Wagners" Herr Muller's placid brow wrinkled
into deep frown. They must issue COM
mands like kings and order honest players
about like oberleutenants." The watchtul
waiter replaced another empty stein.
bitterly the old musician reflected on the
ways of that talented young Feldner from
Coin, whose new prelude they were to perform
that very evening What q rehearsall The
STRIPPING conductor had raped sharply for
silence to say to him-to Herr Muller: "You
take your solo passage better than had hoped,
here-but do look out for that concluding hold
in the fifth bar. The entire effect depends on
it. don't you seer" Yes, he did see. He was
accustomed to unnecessary cautions, from
greenhorns-but that lofty tone Ugh!
Then something got the better Of him and
with feigned humility he asked the young
composer to explain the passage IN his oboe
part unaccountably written an octave below the
lowest note Of the instruments range. at ID
perhaps some modern way Of scoring we haven't
yet heard of heFe?"
He remembered the exact words. the look,
as young Herr Feldner, very white and very
straight, said through his teeth, II fear YOU
are forgetting, Herr Muller, that you are nels1er
p composer nor q cOnductor-yOu are an
Oboist!"
And without another word the rehearsal
went on
Well, that was discipline. A most necessary
tnlng IN an OrcneStra, ne O1Cen SAID nln1Seu.
But those hard, chilling words had rung in his
head all day long. Herr Muller-oboisti
Herr MulIer-oboistl True enough Certainly
no one whispered, passing him, That's Muller,
the great compoSer!" He was just an oboist-
but somehow, in all these years he had never
seen it quite that way. So obvious to others.
Composer and player-two different worldsl
Well he knew it now.
He thought back, with troubled look in his
pale blue eyes, to that symphony he had started
20 blithely when he was Is. Yes, in those days
he was to be another Beethoven. Did he not
jot down themes in little notebook from
morning till night?-Walk about, head high,
hands behind back, as young Beethoven
would? A reminiscent smile tugged at the
corners Of his beard And as for the oboe
why merely q practical solution for an am
bilious young composer; a chance to earn an
honest living while learning the ms and outs
of the orchestra. He tried to whistle that ma
jeStic opening theme-in Z fiat, wasn't it? But
1t was gone. .
The stems which the waiter replaced un-
hidden disappeared one after another; thoughts
went pickering about his head.
IVES it would be pleasant If tonight he were
the straight young man at the conductors
desk, his the new work And some other old
workhorse pufing away on the oboe. mindful Of
little holds eyes glued to the music
counting rests always count
lone, two, three, four, hve-achI" Herr
MAILER said aloud. waving his arm. The waiter