第18章(1/1)英日対訳・スーザ自叙伝「進め! Marching Along」

















No nation as young as America can be expected to become immediately a power in the arts. In the early days, commerce and invention were bound to be of greater importance than music, pictures, or the drama. Therefore it is not strange that the best brains were busily employed with those things most important to the material progress of the country. 



Up to fifty years ago there had been produced here only one or two serious operas by native composers. But now, far from being a suppliant at the door of the theatrical manager, the American composer who has something worth telling to the public is received with open arms. Of course this happy state of affairs is traceable to commerce, because the business man, having won his residence on Easy Street through his commercial pursuits, looks about for enjoyment and is entirely willing to pay for it. It is pleasant to contemplate the number of first-class orchestras in America and also the number of really prosperous musicians. 



Our unusually fine motion picture houses, such as the Paramount, Strand, Rivoli, Rialto, Capitol, and Roxy’s, in New York, have contributed materially to the musical education of the country by reaching so many thousands with their well-equipped orchestras. A student of instrumentation is bound to gain much from a close study of the various combinations. Here he can learn the difference between the tone of the trombone and the cornet and distinguish the characteristic voice of oboe and horn. There are certainly two hundred players developed to one composer. America can well expect to develop a goodly amount of composers for she has a goodly number of people. 



In my own organization I have had Americans who attained the pinnacle in their own particular branch of the musical art. I have never heard a finer cornetist than Herbert L. Clarke who for over twenty-five years was the solo cornet of my band, and is now director of his own. Nor was there anyone on earth to equal Arthur Pryor, the trombone player, when he was with my organization. John Dolan and many more American instrumentalists honor the bands to which they are attached. 



More than two hundred years ago Andrew Fletcher of Saltoun, a philosopher and a keen observer of mankind, said: “I knew a very wise man who believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads he would not care who might make the laws of a nation.” 



At the very beginning of the recorded history of man we have a series of laws, now known as the Decalogue, that have remained through all the ages as a very Gibraltar of universal justice. Biblical history says that the people heard these commandments in fear and trembling. They have remained as a monument erected on a foundation of everlasting truth. Tomes upon tomes of statutes have been enacted since the days when the finger of God traced the Decalogue upon the tablets of stone, but very few man-made laws have survived. Macklin says: “The law is a sort of hocus-pocus science that smiles in your face while it picks your pocket and the glorious uncertainty of it is of more use to the lawyers than the justice of it.” 



Music, on the contrary, reassures and comforts. It tends to soften the hardships of life and add joys to our days. Its appeal is to the tenderest traits in man’s nature, therefore it is not difficult to understand why Fletcher’s wise man preferred writing the songs of a nation to making its laws. 



One of the first popular songs ever written was the one sung by Moses and the children of Israel in exultation over the destruction of Pharaoh’s hosts. Nothing but song and dance were adequate to celebrate that great event. In triumphant unison they sang, “I will sing unto the Lord; the Lord is a man of war,” and Miriam and her women played upon timbrels and danced in graceful abandon to the accompaniment of the mighty choir. 



That happened at the dawn of history. Let us for a moment come down to our own time. The land—Cuba. The year—1898. Just as the children of Israel raised their voices in those ancient days, so did we in 1898. The unison, the abandon were the same. Only the music was different. Moses and his people sang, “The horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea; the Lord is a man of war.” Uncle Sam and his people sang, There’ll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town To-night and The Stars and Stripes Forever. After all, human nature is much the same throughout the centuries. 

これは人類史の幕開けの出来事だった。今度は現代に目を向けてみよう。舞台はキューバ、時代は1898年。その昔、ユダヤ人達が勝鬨を上げたように、我らアメリカ人も1898年に勝鬨をあげた。声を合わせ、心の赴くままに、は一緒。違うのは音楽。モーゼとユダヤ人達は「彼は馬と騎手を海へと投じる。主はいくさびと、その名は主」(出エジプト記15-1)と歌った。アンクル・サムの民・アメリカ人達は「There’ll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town To-night(今夜は旧市街で盛り上がろう)」そして「星条旗よ永遠なれ」を歌った。いずれにせよ、人類の性質というものは何百年も変わらないものだ。 


With advent of the sweet singer of Israel came the first great writer of popular songs, for by his genius he swayed the multitude and became the idol of all his land—David, the beloved one who wrote the Book of Psalms. He was a musician, a poet and a first-class fighter! 



By common consent he is one of the most fascinating figures in history, a child of genius, ample in faculty, fertile in resource and rich in all those qualities that stir admiration and evoke respect. To quote Hillis, “What the Iliad did for Greece, what Dante’s Inferno did for the Renaissance, what the Niebelungenlied did for the German tribes, what The Legends of King Arthur did for the age of chivalry, that and more David’s songs did for the ancient church and the Jewish people. If Moses’ laws laid the foundation, David’s songs and psalms built the superstructure.” 



Singing the forty-sixth Psalm, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,” Polycarp went toward his funeral pyre as did Savonarola. Centuries later, strengthened by this Psalm, Martin Luther braved his enemies. Cromwell’s soldiers marched forth to their victory at Marston Moor chanting the songs of David. 



Time has kept for us a record of David as a poet, as a ruler and as a fighter but not one vestige remains of David as a composer. More’s the pity, for he must have written splendid music, or he could not have so influenced his people. 




David might well be called the first bandmaster mentioned in history. Of course we know in Genesis Jubal is spoken of as the father of all those who handle the harp and pipe. But David was the first orchestral organizer. His band numbered two hundred four score and eight. He no doubt possessed a knowledge of instrumentation and tone-color effect, for he assigns his subjects to special instruments. The fourth Psalm, “Hear me when I call, Oh, God of my righteousness,” he directs to be played by his chief musician who was a player of the harp and the sackbut. The fifth Psalm, “Give ear to my words, oh Lord,” he assigns to the chief musician who was the solo flutist of his band. In the sixth Psalm, “Oh, Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger,” the chief musician, a soloist on the string instrument who had a virtuoso’s regard for expression, is called upon to perform and so on through the Psalms. 



David without question had in his band all the component parts of the modern orchestra—strings, wood-winds, brass and percussion. At the dedication of Solomon’s temple an orchestra played before the Lord with all manner of instruments. Some were made of fir wood, there were harps and psalteries, timbrels, castanets, cornets and cymbals and the sound of the trumpet was heard in the land even as it is heard to-day. The records of these ancient concerts are the lamps that light the way to our days, where music has taken its place among the inspirational outbursts of man. 



Hugo Riemann, Sir Charles Villiers Stanford and Cecil Forsyth, those indefatigable delvers into the mystical mines of musical antiquity, agree that everything in music, up or down to 900 A.D. should be considered ancient. They record the use of voices and instruments giving melody only, or at most, octaves in singing and playing. Of course the rhythmic instruments of percussion were used to mark time and accentuate the melodies. 



If, as some insist, music is all man-created, its improvements in the innumerable years that preceded the makers of modern harmony were slight indeed. It is self-evident that man in the ancient days had brain, eyes, voice and hands, even as he has to-day but polyphonic music did not exist until God breathed into music a soul and the cold mathematical beat gave way to creative genius, inventive skill and inspiration. 



The Messiahs who brought the glad tidings—Palestrina, Bach, Beethoven, Wagner and a multitude of divinely-endowed musicians, led the world out of the darkness of crudity into the dazzling realm of the present—a present rich in the treasures of the masters of the past, rich in the promise of those to come. 



The precursor of the present Symphony Orchestra dates from the eighteenth century. Joseph Haydn has long been known as the “Father of Instrumental Music.” Many of his symphonies remain in the repertoire of the famous orchestras of the world and are played each succeeding year with never-ending delight to the auditor, the performer and the conductor. 



Although it is a far cry from the combination of strings, wood-wind and brass of “Papa” Haydn’s orchestra to the instruments employed by Richard Strauss, it is to the composer of The Surprise, The Farewell, The Clock and other immortal works that the honor of having established the classic orchestra should be given. The favorite group of “The Father of Instrumental Music” in 1766 consisted of six violins, two violas, one ‘cello, one bass, one flute, two oboes, two bassoons, two clarinets, and two horns. The earliest of the Haydn symphonies was given to the world through these instruments. The Alpine Symphony of Richard Strauss (1914) calls for two flutes, two piccolos, two oboes (doubled), one English horn, one hecklephone, one E-flat clarinet (doubled), two B Clarinets, one C clarinet (doubled), one bass clarinet, three bassoons, one contra-bassoon, sixteen horns, four tenor-tubas in B and F, six trumpets, six trombones, two bass-tubas, two harps, organ, celesta, tympani, eighteen first violins, sixteen second violins, twelve violas, ten ‘cellos, eight double basses, small drum, bass drum and a host of “effect” instruments, which we, in America, call the “traps.” Besides the above instruments, Strauss, in a previous composition, employed saxophones. 



It will be noticed that between 1766 and 1914 composers have added a multitude of wood-wind, brass and percussion instruments to the primitive symphonic combination. With the single exception of the harp, there has been no effort since to incorporate into the string band any other stringed instrument. While the guitar, the lute, the mandolin, the banjo, the zither and the viola d’amore have been used in orchestral combinations they have only been employed for some effect believed necessary by the composer. In fact, “The symphony orchestra,” says W. S. Rockstro, “has become a large wind-band plus strings, instead of a string-band plus wind.” Why? 



The most aesthetic of the pure families of instruments is beyond question the violin group. In sentiment, mystery, glamour, register, unanimity of tonal facility and perfection in dexterity it more than equals all other families. But, aside from its delicate nuances and diffident dynamics, it reduces itself to the skeleton of the symphonic structure, because, like bread served with each course, it loses its novelty; and if violins are used alone beyond a certain time limit, they suggest an Adamless Eden. 




Of the separate instrumental groups, apart from the violin, the vocal group, although in compass, lightness and mobility it is not the equal of the violin family, possesses a power for pathos and passion not possible to any other group. The wood-wind has a slightly greater scope than the violin. In coquetry, humorous murmurs and the mimicry of animated nature it is in a class by itself. The last orchestral family, the brass, in gamut decidedly less, has the power to thunder forth a barbaric splendor of sound or to intone the chants of the cathedral. 



Therefore, composers have found a greater diversity of tone color in a multitude of wind instruments, cylinder or conical, single-reed, double-reed, direct vibration or cup-shaped mouthpiece than in the string family alone. All these wind instruments have added to the palette of the orchestrator and have enabled him to use his creative power in blending the various colors. In this connection it is not amiss to point out that that giant of the music drama, Richard Wagner, in nearly every instance, enunciates the “leit-motifs” of his operas through the agency of wood-wind or brass. 



The so-called Thurmer (watchmen) bands of the Middle Ages were probably the progenitors of the present-day concert band. They were made up of fifes, oboes, zinken, trombones and drums. Trumpets were not at first used because they were for royal ears alone; not for the common herd. As time passed, numerous wind instruments were added to this group; some of the originals became obsolete and others were improved upon, until to-day the wind-band consists of four flutes, two piccolos, two oboes, one English horn, two bassoons, one contra-bassoon, or sarrusophone, two alto saxophones, two tenor saxophones, one baritone saxophone, one bass saxophone, twenty B clarinets, one alto clarinet, two bass clarinets, four cornets, two trumpets, two Fluegel horns or added cornet, four horns, four trombones, two euphoniums, eight basses (double B), one harp, one tympani, one small drum and one bass drum. 




The tendency of the modern composer to place in the hands of the wood-wind corps and the brass choir of the orchestra the most dramatic effects of the symphonic body has much to do with the development of the wind-band, although there is no question that the inventive genius of Boehm, Klose, Wieprecht and Sax have been important factors. With the improvements in mechanism so far as purity of intonation and facility of execution are concerned, observant musicians and capable conductors saw the coming of a new constellation in the musical firmament—a constellation of star players on wood-wind, brass and percussion instruments. 



The pioneers were Wieprecht and Parlow in Germany, Paulus and Sellenik in France, the Godfreys and George Miller in England, Bender in Belgium, Dunkler in Holland and last but not least, Patrick Sarsfield Gilmore in America. Gilmore organized a corps of musicians superior to any wind-band players of his day, many of them coming from the leading orchestras of the world and possessing a virtuoso’s ability on their respective instruments. He engaged his musicians regardless of expense and paid them salaries commensurate with their talents. Conductors and players alike tenderly cherish the memory of Patrick Sarsfield Gilmore for his activities in the interests of instrumental performers. 




The only question that can be asked in the name of progressive art comparing the modern string-band and the modern wind-band is—which, at the moment, presents the most perfect massing of sounds and tonal colors? An incessant playing of all groups combined, or the serving of solid blocks of string, wood-wind or brass music becomes wearisome. Recitals by a single vocalist or instrumental performer are made attractive through the personality and technique of the performer rather than through the entertainment itself. When personality is missing the ear is bound to tire. 



In placing the string-band and the wind-band on the same plane, I see, in my mind’s eye, the lover of Haydn, of Mozart, of Beethoven and the violin family standing aghast at the thought and asking why wind instruments should attempt the immortal symphonies of these beloved masters. And well may they stand aghast and question. These compositions were created for one purpose only—to be played by the instruments the masters intended for them and never by any other combination. The efforts on the part of some misguided conductors and orchestrators to “improve” on the original and the equally self-appointed task of some arranger to transcribe Mozart, Beethoven and Haydn to the wind-instrument combination are greatly to be deplored. The earlier symphonies are the musical flowers grown in the shadowy lanes of the past and it is not pleasant to attempt to modernize them. Either play them as they were or let them alone entirely. 



There is much modern music that is better adapted to a wind combination than to a string, although for obvious reasons originally scored for an orchestra. If in such cases the interpretation is equal to the composition the balance of a wind combination is more satisfying. 



The chief aim of the composer is to produce color, dynamics, nuances and to emphasize the story-telling quality. The combination and composition which gains that result is most to be desired. To presume that the clarinet, the cornet, and the trombone should be used only to blare forth marches and jazz tunes or that the violin family must devote itself to waltzes, two-steps and fox-trots is ludicrous. The string-band and the wind-band are among the brightest constellations in the melodic heavens. The former may be likened to a woman, the latter to a man, for like maid and man, brought together in divine harmony, they can breathe into life the soulful, the sentimental, the heroic and the sublime.