英日対訳:T.ビーチャム自叙伝「A Mingled Chime」第29章(2/2)ディーリアス勘違い/ランドン・ロナルド








Being present in Manchester for a few days during the spring of 1915 in company with Delius, I found myself dining one evening at the house of the principal patron of the College of Music there. The conversation turning to the subject of academic training in general, Delius, who had enjoyed about as little of it as any musician living, entertained the party with a magnificent effort of abusive condemnation. Our host, sensibly alert to the possibility of a little fun, asked him if he would address the College on the following evening, when, as there was an annual celebration of some sort, professors, students and everyone else connected with it would be present. This Delius declined to do on the plea that he was no public speaker, which was true. Like several other brilliant conversationalists I have known, he was fragmentary and incidental rather than comprehensive and sequential, and disdained the humbler faculty of marshaling ideas with that semblance of logical order necessary to the mental comfort of any audience that is asked to bear with patience the ordeal of a lengthy delivery on a single subject. 




As it was known that I had done a good bit of this sort of thing for many years past the invitation was passed on to me and, thinking that here might be a chance of venting a few of the doubts and misgivings which for some time had been troubling me, I accepted it. But I knew that to create a lively interest and provoke any useful reaction over a wide area I should have to employ the tactics of an out-and-out offensive, I thought that I should first ask our local Maecenas if they would be likely to injure the interests of the especial object of his protection. He answered that the more outspoken my discourse the better, as there was far too much self-satisfaction in the place for his own liking. 




Encouraged by this admirable objectivity of outlook I took for my text Dante's famous line, “Lasciate ogni speranza che voi entrate,” which I suggested should be written over the entrance door of every academy in the land, and challenged the particular one I was addressing to point to a single musician of outstanding distinction produced by it during the twenty odd years of its existence. The result was equal to any I had expected, and for weeks the Manchester papers were full of indignant letters citing the names of singers and instrumentalists, who in the opinion of the various writers gave the living lie to my insult. Presently there came an opportunity to put the issue to a practical test. I had advertised in one of the Halle Society programs Delius’ “Sea Drift,” which requires a solo baritone with gifts not only of voice but of diction and poetical insight. As I had not yet engaged a singer, I issued an invitation to the College to bring forward one among its students, past or present, who could interpret the part adequately. The composer, who was on the scene, would act as judge; and as he was likely to want a performance of his work as much as anyone, the conditions of trial would be favorable to the competitors. There was intense excitement in the whole county: its musical capacity had been called into question, it was determined to wipe out the affront convincingly, and it looked as if we were going to have a tournament of song that would rival in importance that historic contest on the Wartburg.  




I knew that eventually I should have to choose someone to sing the work, but I hoped that the argument would drag on long enough for me to extend it to a much wider domain of debate, to create a pleasantly dramatic tension, and that by spinning out the trials I would be enabled to make the ultimate verdict all the more gratifying to local pride. But I had reckoned without the incalculable element of Frederick Delius, who, at the opening audition, forgetting entirely the real purpose of the whole adventure, chose the first singer who presented himself. It availed nothing that in all essential endowments the fortunate vocalist was far from being the ideal type for the music; the decision was given, and the triumph of the College was complete. For if the very first candidate who appeared had proved acceptable, then it followed as a matter of course that there must be many others of equal eligibility. My discomfiture was as total as the elation of the other side, and I vowed that never again would I entrust the casting vote of decision in other of my carefully calculated projects to the unaccountable impulse of a composer, however eminent.  




Shortly after on my return to London I was dining by myself at Pagani’s and was joined by Landon Ronald, who was also alone. My acquaintance with him was of the slightest and by the turn of circumstances we had generally been in opposite camps of public activity. For when I severed my connection with the New Symphony Orchestra at the end of 1908, he had been appointed its conductor and had shared a little of that emotion of rivalry which the players had felt upon the unwelcome appearance of a new body of competitors. He had meanwhile been appointed to the Directorship of the Guildhall School of Music, an organization which had been a special object of attack in my Manchester address, and he now wanted to know what he had done to deserve it. I explained to him that there was nothing in the least personal in my action, that it had been taken for the sole purpose of arousing public interest in the whole educational system, and to assure him further on this score I proposed that he assist me as conductor both in the Halle Concert Series and elsewhere during the coming autumn. To this he willingly agreed but suggested that we might begin our cooperation earlier by doing something together during the summer in London, which otherwise would be entirely without music for months to come; and we there and then planned and subsequently gave a short season of Promenade Concerts at the Albert Hall which the pair of us conducted on alternate nights.  

ロンドンに戻ってすぐ、レストラン「パガーニズ」で1人で食事をしていたときだった。そこへランドン・ロナルドが同席してきた。彼も1人だったのだ。彼とは接触する機会がなく、公の場での活動においては、変わり目ごとに大概は相対する側に居た。1908年の暮に、「新交響楽団(New Symphony Orchestra)」関連の仕事をさせていただいた際は、その前に彼はすでに指揮者に就任しており、新たに台頭してきた招かれざる楽団達に対して、ちょっとした競争意識を共有していた。一方彼がその頃、既に運営面で引っ張る立場にあったのが、ロンドンにあるギルドホール音楽学校である。ここは、私がマンチェスターで講演をおこなった際に、とくに標的となった学校である。レストランで彼は、私の標的となった要素について、自分のそれまでの取り組みのどこがそれにあたるのか、知りたがっていた。私からは、我が意図するところに、私的事情は何一つ無いこと、英国全体の教育システムにおける昨今の人々の興味関心を高めたいという、ただその一心であったことを説明した。そしてそのことを彼に確信してもらうために、その年の秋に、ハレ管弦楽団の公演期間や、他の団体の公演についても、指揮者として私を支えてみないかと提案した。この提案に、彼は大いに乗り気であったが、提案を一つ出してきた。2人の共同作戦を、もう少し早く実施したほうが良いと言うのだ。夏にロンドンで何かやろう、でなければ数カ月間、完全に音楽会がなくなってしまう、というものだ。そして店の中で計画を立ててしまい、ロイヤル・アルバート・ホールでの「プロムナード・コンサート」という、短い公演期間を開催した。私達2人で、一晩ごとに交代で指揮をするのだ。 



Landon Ronald was a man of integrity, scrupulous in all his dealings with his fellows and an affectionate and constant friend. He had unquestionably a great and natural talent for conducting, and his bearing and movements in action carried an ease and grace that I have never seen rivaled. His sympathies however did not equal his endowment, and this limitation of taste, combined with an inborn inertia, placed a check upon the growth of his repertoire which I often deplored. I judged from the answers to my remonstrances that he was not fully aware of his own unusual ability; and this self-depreciation, highly uncommon in an artist, deprived him of that extra ounce of incentive which is the impelling force behind any sustained endeavor or successful accomplishment. His secret inclination was less toward public parade than private placidity, with plenty of time and opportunity for the gratification of those indulgences which were as necessary to him as music itself. One day, many years later, upon my asking him to do a special job of musical work for me that would go over several weeks and take up most of his spare time, he replied that while nothing would please him better he was not sure whether his health would stand the strain. But he was very shortly seeing his doctor for a periodical overhauling and would procure his opinion on the point. It happened that soon after this I too had occasion to visit the same famous physician, and I inquired anxiously of him if there was anything seriously wrong with our friend. To this the Galen of England answered, “Not at aU; it is only a case of wine, women and song, and I have told him that he must make up his mind to drop one of them.” When therefore I next was in a position to ask Landon which of the three dangerous joys of life he had decided to cut out, to my disappointment though not to my surprise his instant reply was “Song.”  




My only other effort of consequence that summer in London was the organization of a public meeting at Queen’s Hall, to demand that the Government should place cotton on the list of contraband goods. For some reason quite inexplicable to the entire country, this had not been done, although we were well in the eleventh month of the struggle and the dangerous stuff was pouring into Germany through every available opening. The war had come just in time to prevent the adoption by half-a-dozen great powers of the Declaration of London, an extraordinary document which seemed to have been designed for the main purpose of crippling the power of the British Navy. Anyway, at the head of a long list of articles to be made non-contraband in the event of a conflict stood cotton, the most vital of all the materials used in the manufacture of shot and shell. The only conclusion one could form was that, although the declaration had never been signed, the Government which had fathered it was striving to abide by its terms; for in spite of much protest in the Press, the Foreign Office preserving an unbroken silence offered no explanation of its ambiguous attitude. Many of us in Lancashire, the home of the commodity, considered that the time had come for a series of public meetings far and wide, and that at Queen’s Hall was the opening event, with Sir Charles Macara, President of the Cotton Spinners Federation in the chair and a group of scientific and industrial celebrities on the platform. During the course of the day the Foreign Office made an unsuccessful attempt through my father to discover my whereabouts, though for what reason I never knew. It could hardly have been to request the cancellation at the last hour of a public gathering that had been advertised for weeks, but as Government departments in those days moved in every way as mysteriously as they do now, such an impromptu step would have been no surprise to us. Whatever its purpose, that evening was the beginning and end of our campaign, for a few days later appeared the welcome proclamation that, so far as was within the nation’s control, the enemy would receive no more cotton. It is probable that the Government had been on the eve of taking this belatedly necessary action, but it pleased us all to imagine that our little effort had done something to accelerate its decision.  






Cycle of Life (Landon Ronald) | Melisa Camba with Gabriel Paguirigan