Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-10-26
This being an immodest age,
and one that flowers with
personal an exuberant


personal and exuberant
\ rhapsodies, it seems only
Just to hear, now and again, {
musician come to the fore with q
completely honest opinion Of him
self. So 1t Is with a mixture Of
admiration and wonder that one
listens to Jose Iturbi saying to q
flock of reporters on his return tC
this country: II am not the great
est pianist in the world, but by
no means the worst. Audiences
in America have surprised me
with their appreciation of my
playing"
This seems like a fairly ade-
quate summary of the gentleman
in question. 1t might, too, have
been written by a critic anxious
to bridge a difficult situation
neither to Wallop nor to eXalt. 1t
hits the nail so nicely on the head
that one can't help specializing
on whether the first line came to
Mr.. Iturbi through a long and
painful process of mental mastica-
ton, or Just flowed in on natural
mental tide. For certainly this
virtuoso's words have been re-
printed generously throughout
the country since their debut, and
have met with much and varied
comment. They have, further
more, been trafficked throughout
the kingdom with no Ifiincing of
Surprise-for to some the idea
that musician should put him
self plainly on the table and
diagnose his technical musical
powers has been sore and sorry
point.
AS matter of fact, there have
been few artists so frank concern
ing their judgment of themselves.
Although the musical prodigy Is
not apt to be modest, blushing
violet, whispering lugubriouS OPP
probriums of himself to a lone and
whiting wind, he is not inclined
toward the more clustering ex-
presSions of self-praise much be-
yond the pale of his own studio. To
a fellow crony, to a devoted help
mate, or to a foreigner unbleSSed
with a musical heritage, he may
confide that his vocal, or piano
powers are really something
worthy of attention. But outside
his lyrical backyard, he Is given to
guarded Silences, or to yelled and
unfathonable estimations OF his
actual worth.
The fact that Mr. Iturbi got the
Jump on the critics is something
N11akA IIa VNlanaI him cnlf en-
neatly in his exact category that
one should like others to do the
same for the simplification of
opinion. Hence, if Mr.. Kreisler
on his recent return from Europe
had only said, 81 am the greatest
violiniSt in the world" or Jeritza
on her return confided that she
was the Metropolitan Operas best
soprano, it might have done lot
of good. For a time it might stir
up the heated voices of argu-
mentative souls, but again 1t
might shock these into deep and
thankful silence, and then rouse
other kindred spirits to placate
themselves honestly, so that one
would no longer hear the KreiSler-
Heifitz battle for supremacy, the
Paderewski-Hof duel in
dulged in by opinionated minds
even the stirring Toscanini-Kous-
sevitski-Stokowski triangle might
be waited away from the bloody,
talkative battle-ground.
One of the most tedious exer-
cises of modern times-and
ancient as wells to have things
catalogued into "bests" and bet
ters." So many pseudo erudities
are not satisfied with merely
enjoying music and musicians,
but must hustle the artists into a
definite class. Perhaps the cinema,
with its endless queStionnaires de-
voted to who is the best, etc"
has been in a measure re-
sponsible for this. Certainly,
there are many thousands whose
brain children are consistently
devoted to 81 think Miss So-and-
so is the best pianist in the world
and better than-becauSe."
Why, oh why, one may not enjoy
something without this twentieth
century pestiferous comparing Of
mountains with molehillS and
vice versa?
There is probably no answer to
1t all-eXcept that this is a nerv-
Gus mental era with an endless
argumentative horizon. When
Mr.. Iturbi said he was not the
best pianist in the world, but GER
tainly not the worst, he was
hitting a nice Northumberland
he is after all a distinguished
exponent of what he calls "'the
instrument of percussion" He
modestly refrained from saying
that he is the beSt-or better
than, etc. He spoke, in fact, after
ones own heart and according to
no principles that have been laid
before him. There must have
been, incidentally, present in the
group that surrounded him, a
voice that said Don't you think,
Mr.. Iturbi, that you're just about
the best pianist?" Whereupon the
expert generaliSsino of the keys
replied with what seems to be
well-nigh history and in such
fashion as must have tingled the
ears of those present.
81 am not the best, but not the
worst" Splendid! And now, with
the possibility Of a shower of
wrath coming this way, it might
be interesting to find out who is
the best and who is the worst!
The latter would be especially
interesting.
NO advance trumpeting of any