Part 15 (1/2)

Until Sir Henry Wood proved the contrary, the idea of presenting symphonies and other high-cla.s.s music at a Promenade Concert with a view to attract paying audiences, appeared not only absolutely hopeless, but positively fanatical.

Up to that time promenade concerts were a.s.sociated in the minds of musical people, with the methods of Jullien, Riviere and their imitators. They took place in the huge theatres of Covent Garden or Drury Lane. The stage was removed, and the ground floor converted into an immense promenade, in the centre of which was built a platform, and upon it was imposed tier upon tier in the style of a Roman amphitheatre, to receive, in addition to the ordinary orchestra, the military bands that were occasionally called upon to carry out the weird ideas the management had conceived. Of these, the most famous and popular was known as the ”Army Quadrilles.” In order to give effect to it, several of these bands were put in different places on the highest story of the building, and had to march down in succession from their lofty position and gradually converge on the platform and, in combination, produce the amount of sound and provide the spectacular effect that was considered essential to success. All the time this long process was in execution, the conductor, with jewelled baton in hand and the limelight focused on him, was strongly in evidence, and little wonder that he sank into his capacious, brilliantly upholstered chair at the end of it, so exhausted as hardly to be able to acknowledge the plaudits that were showered on him! At every possible place on each floor of the theatre, a bar was placed for the supply of alcoholic drinks, and what with the combined fumes of alcohol and tobacco, the atmosphere was of a description more allied to that of a Baccha.n.a.lian orgie than to any possible function relating to art.

In later years, it is true, the conditions were improved, even to the point that such a musician as Sir Arthur Sullivan was induced to lend the weight of his influence to bring about a state of things more consonant with the dignity of music, but he soon withdrew and thus tacitly admitted failure. What, then, had happened to hold out a promise of better results?

Why, evidently, the seed sown by the Philharmonic Society, Richter, Manns and Halle, although much may have fallen on barren soil, other had fallen on good ground and was bringing forth good fruit.

So, at least, must have thought Sir Henry Wood, or he had scarcely ventured on his daring mission of appeal to the general public with such a programme. He courageously staked his all and worthily won.

It is now sixteen years ago that he made his memorable venture. It is only those who know the difficulties, financial and other, in carrying out such a scheme, can adequately estimate what courage, energy and foresight were needed, to say nothing of great musical gifts, to bring about a result so astonis.h.i.+ng as that to which the world is witness to-day.

In place of the many bra.s.s bands and ”Army Quadrilles,” we see a programme consisting of the works of Beethoven, and instead of the jewelled baton, the alcoholic atmosphere and the focused limelight, a programme is presented that not many years ago would have been regarded, even by music lovers, as cla.s.sical to the point of severity. The days of Aladdin are evidently capable of duplication!

Nothing more is needed to prove what a vast change has been brought about in the taste of the ma.s.ses in regard to music, and it is a matter of thankfulness that its consummation has been so greatly accelerated by an Englishman, owing nothing to foreign education.

The establishment by Sir Henry Wood of the Queen's Hall Symphony Concerts, and the great and permanent success attained by them, naturally led to the striving of others to emulate him. The first result was the formation of the London Symphony Orchestra, the majority of whose members, it may be remarked, were originally in Sir Henry Wood's band. Difficulties arose as to the employment of deputies by the older and better known players, who were, naturally enough, reluctant to give up such engagements as the great provincial festivals, and others of serious importance, afforded. The inability to arrive at an agreement caused about fifty members to recede from the orchestra and form one of their own, which they did with the active sympathy and help of Dr.

Richter, who conducted their first public performance on June 4th, 1904.

An interesting feature of the scheme inaugurated by the management was the invitation to different celebrated conductors to conduct one or more of the series of concerts decided on. This idea was, undoubtedly, a happy one, and proved a complete success. The curiosity of the public was evidently stimulated by a galaxy of men that included Richter, Elgar, Nikisch, Henschel, Safanof, and Colonne. And well it might be!

In his interesting ”History of the London Symphony Orchestra, Ltd.,” Mr.

F. Gilbert Webb, the well-known critic, writes: ”Such a procession of famous conductors is unique in the history of English orchestras.”

I am inclined to think, however, that it would be extremely difficult to carry on so complicated a policy, for it would be often impossible to make the arrangements of such men fit in with dates that are, and obviously must be, more or less arbitrarily fixed by the proprietors of the halls in which the concerts are given.

At any rate, the experience of the players has been one of keen enjoyment, and one of the most prominent among them, Mr. T. E. Wotton, in writing to me, alludes to some of the performances as ”veritable revelations.”

The next organisation to enter the field of compet.i.tion was ”The New Symphony Orchestra.”

Here again a decisive and direct policy was determined upon, a leading idea being that the orchestra, from first to last, should consist, solely, of Englishmen.

The happy idea of inviting Mr. Landon Ronald to a.s.sume the conductors.h.i.+p has been fraught with consequences of the highest importance, and the success of the movement has long been placed beyond the region of doubt.

Perhaps the most important engagement, up to the present time, that has accrued to it, is that of the Sunday concerts at the Royal Albert Hall.

These concerts have, undoubtedly, been a great success, and have not only been a source of financial gain to the orchestra, but a much-needed attraction to that building, the vast size of which renders it suitable for none other than occasions of special interest.

These concerts do not, however, by any means absorb their energies, as the advertising columns of the daily papers shew. Their services are in constant request, and everything tends to their permanency as a living body.

As of the preceding ones, it may be said that this band practically consists of solo players of high excellence.

Before concluding this chapter it may be desirable to call attention to the many amateur bands that have sprung into existence in recent years, as this is, undoubtedly, a feature of peculiar significance, and one that has had no little influence in spreading a knowledge of orchestral music in circles that would otherwise probably have not been reached.

Their princ.i.p.al members are generally veterans who, in early life, gave up much of their spare time in gaining sufficient skill on their respective instruments to become fairly competent performers, and it is to such as these, and their enthusiasm, that the existence of these bodies and the good done by them, is due.

It is about forty years since the movement may be said to have begun, when the cult of the orchestra was either non-existent or in the embryo.

The requirements for members.h.i.+p were not exacting, it is true, but it must be remembered that the facilities for the acquisition of even these, were far different in those days to the existing ones of to-day.

It is easy, then, to imagine the amount of time, money and energy that must have been necessarily devoted to preserve their vitality.