if there was sympathy between the reciter and the player. If in anything there should be "two souls with but a single thought," it is in this. Very often a reciter will give a musical selection that has been rehearsed only once with the accompanist, who has never seen nor heard the poem before. Players with enough soul to accompany poems to be recited, unless they are making it a specialty, usually are too busy to give the required time for practice. The accompaniment should grow out of the emotion caused by the thought of the poem in the mind of the player, just as the words given by the reciter should. A trained voice and trained fingers will never make a success of a musical selection, unless the mind and the soul of both player and reciter have also been under training.

It is no proof that musical selections are inartistic because they are so often given by inartistic people.

Miss Nettie Arthur Brown, New York.

The whole drift of the meeting, Jan. 25, was so undoubtedly in favor, by readers themselves, of artistically arranged readings accompanied by an appropriate musical setting, that I would like to say a word in regard to their actual public performance. If musical recitations are artistic and if they are received with enthusiasm by audiences, why are readers-readers, for example, who receive from fifteen to twenty-five dollars an evening-reluctant to make use of them jointly with their own selections? It would appear to an observer that it is not until one reaches the height gained by Mrs. Nella Brown-Pond at the time of her death, or by George Riddle, who makes his greatest hits with music, that they feel that they can stand upon a broad platform of independent thought and action, and make use of music as an artistic background

There is an unfailing 'law: If we help others, we help ourselves; if we hinder others, purposely, we wrong ourselves more than those we try to injure. The very nature of this art is such, that it requires two persons to come together with harmony of purpose. In other words, there must be a sympathy of feeling between the two, and a determination to work with and for each other. A house which is divided against itself must fall. Where is the sense of pulling down, when the same amount of strength and effort might be used in building up a thing which would result to the credit of both? I was told within the past few years that I was on the wrong track; that musical recitations were a fad of the moment, and that I would live to see the day, and very shortly, when I would regret having had anything to do with them. It was never more apparent than to day, that this prophecy was a decided failure, for musical recitations are steadily attaining a prominence, and have made for themselves a sure foothold in the profession, as well as with the public. Had they said that I would live to see the day when I would regret having had anything to do with people who

took delight in discouraging and in opposing, they would have come nearer the truth. Some musicians are apt to play too loud. They should remember that they are not the whole but a part of the performance. Just

as soon as the voice is lost by the loudness of the music, the whole performance is worthless. This is not an easy thing to do, and requires practice and the combination of certain qualities, but the two should be conducted like an evenly-balanced scale, and then you will not hear the criticism so often urged: "I can not listen to both at once. I either hear the music and lose the recitation, or vice versa.'

Again, what art is there in having the musician play something entirely foreign to the sentiment under consideration? I once attended a performance in which this took place, and before it had finished, I found I had lost the sentiment of both words and music, and watched the two performers as I would a game of tag, wondering which would come out ahead, This led me to the idea that it would be more artistic, and that words and music would blend far more har

moniously, to unite the inetres. The reason for this is obvious. Suppose a composer should attempt to write music for a song, and, instead of using the metre of the song, use one entirely foreign. No matter how beautiful each production in itself might be, the conjunction of the two would be pandemonium.

After I had worked along these lines, my idea was corroborated by the most advanced thought on the subject: "There can be little doubt that in a complete blending of words and music a great effect can be produced. It is the ideal point to be reached in this art, and comes under the head of the third degree of musical recitation." There

is an exception to this rule, in the case of introducing suggestive music, as in "Aux Italiens," where the words call for a selection from the opera, Il Trovatore."

However, it is only when the music is. played very softly, and serves its purpose as a suggestion, that the effect is pleasing. When the metres unite, it is not necessary for the reciter to perform his part in a singsong way, in time with the music. Such effect is ludicrous, and no artist will do it.

It is because this art in its perfection takes time, thought, and careful study, that it is gaining headway, and has every prospect of permanency. Instead of being claptrap work, as it was once thought, in order to cover up the deficiency of the reader, it requires two artists, both as perfect in their distinct lines as possible.

If there were more people like Mrs. Nella Brown Pond in the world,-in other words, more talented people who were willing to extend a helping hand to others in their journey through life-they would find their own horizon broadened, and their own field of action widened, and when they left this world, they would leave a pleasing and helpful memory. This is the reason that "The Red Fan" is dedicated to Mrs. Pond's memory, because of her personal helpfulness and encouragment in this line

of work, which she was busily engaged in and intensely interested in at the time of her death. Should there be another like her in the profession, with her ability, there would "be more doing and less talking," and this subject would not need to be discussed. The field is open and ready for such a reader, and, well equipped, they could enter it with every prospect of a promising and prosperous future.

Mrs. Frances Carter, Toledo.

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I will say briefly that, if the reader be an artist in his profession, possessing a clear, rich voice, full of harmony and melody, and is accompanied by musicians willing to form a background for the work of the reader, I believe such rendering furnishes legitimate and delightful entertainment for audience. The stage, with its experience, resorts to music to enhance the most touching and delicate scenes. I have read that Bernhardt has said that it was her ambition to declaim or recite grand opera with the music. When properly rendered, music is certainly an inspiration. I read “Aux Italiens,' ་་ "The Message," Midsummer Night's Dream," and parts of other plays with musical accompaniment.

"

Mrs. Elizabeth Marney Conner, Buffalo.

In answer to your inquiries about musical recitations. I would say: The proof of even an intellectual pudding must be in the eating of it, and as the public whom I am sure we are aiming to please as well as to educate are very fond of the novelties you are questioning about, it would seem that there is a place for them, and they have come to stay. That many of the efforts in this line are crude is no argument against the idea itself. The interest you are arousing in this subject ought to prove very beneficial, but you may be sure it will not eradicate this brilliant branch of our work. At present I am having great success with a novelty-part song, part recitation, entitled "Cato's Philosophy."

Mrs. Anna Randall-Diehl, New York.

I am not in favor of musical accompaniments to recitations unless there is some raison d'etre for the music. There are some recitations like "Over the River," "Sandalphon," and "Drifting," that sing themselves to regular tunes. To read them in a matter-of-fact manner destroys all the beauty of rhythmic proportions, and the melody of voice and of sentiment. To undertake to accompany the reciter by strokes upon the piano, I have found not even like sweet bells jangled," but cer tainly and absolutely "out of tune and harsh." If songs occurred in a recitation, I would sing them, if I could, but I would not read the Constitution of the United States or the Declaration of Independence to the accompaniment of "Yankee Doodle" The Star-Spangled Banner."

or "

Preston K. Dillenbeck, Missouri.

As a general thing I do not care for musical recitations and seldom use them. In the majority of cases I believe that a good reader will get more out of a selection without the musical accompaniment. We have, however, made the combination with pleasing effect.

Miss Giselle D'Unger, Chicago.

In reply to the query relative to musical recitations, my opinion is that they are not sincere reproductions or interpretations of the poet or the author. When written, the works were the outcome of genuine emotion, and the need of accessories was farthest from the author's mind. The impulse to express himself was unconscious, so far as a public was concerned; therefore the introduction of music to emphasize the poem or attract the listener is not complimentary to the poet.

In "Aux Italiens," usually recited with music, if it be given by a gentleman in the costume of the period and in an apartment or stage setting presumably as the poet fancied the unfortunate and regretful lover to have occupied while indulging in this reverie, the introduction of music would not then be considered inartistic, as he, no doubt, retains the melody which he has just heard. Many years have passed and he has heard it frequently, but some subtle influence, music or flower, has recalled the "early love.' It is but imagination on his part, but to complete the illusion as an actual occurrence, music would be permissible, and be the connecting link of harmony. Theatrical? In truth, yes, but "all the world's a stage.' As a recitation, simply recite with feeling.

Ordinarily, a recitation should be given as the poet intended-to express the thought and the imagination incidental to some spontaneous emotion. A reader should have perfect command of the voice, that he may convey the varying emotions as expressed by the poet. This brings forward the old argument of art-emotion or heartemotion. In reply I would say that one should use not only vocal flexibility, but also a sympathetic feeling, an appreciation of the incident in touch with the humanity which governs it should pervade the poem. This presupposes a knowledge of human nature, experience of the vicissitudes of life, and training through scientific principles of expression.

To reconcile the average audience to the merit of a reader, when the selection read was given with music, some time previous by another reciter is to engender obvious comparison. Hence, too often stern necessity yields to popular taste. If the soul be not in the picture, darkened rooms and unseen music will not reveal it. The mistaken enthusiasm aroused by such accessories is short-lived. Artificial methods are not provocative of substantial structures; but there are extenuating circumstances. Radical expression on this subject is a little in advance of the times. The forceful proc

ess of education is so intense at this hour that more temperate methods must be em ployed to encourage rather than discourage the ambitious student. Gentle, persuasive measures, like the dropping of the water on the stone, will wear away the most positive ideas in time. As the audience is to be entertained, it possesses the privilege of "damning with faint praise" or enthusiastically welcoming the reader. Praise is sweet and pecuniary returns a necessity; therefore, it is not surprising that the public demands and gets what it wants.

The Werner Society papers are helpful and strengthening to the exponents of the arts of music and elocution. With the publication of those views for the general public, the discussions pro and con, audiences, communities, and lecture-bureaus will be as much benefited as those who have made music and elocution earnest studies. Until education is accepted in its widest sense, until the educated are truly educated on all lines, growth will be slow, for it has been ably demonstrated by managers, actors, and theatrical people generally, that the popular taste is ephemeral.

What do you think of musical recitations?" Except for impersonation they are inartistic and should be abolished.

Marcellus R. Ely, Nebraska.

This

A musical recitation, to be artistic, must be simply a recitation with a musical background. The music must be nothing more than an accompaniment, a setting or frame which enhances and makes more prominent, more suggestive, the thought and the feeling of the reciter. One of our best writers has said that art must be both representative and manifestive. In a musical recitation like "Aux Italiens" the speaker should manifest the emotion aroused by the recollections of Mario's singing, and the recollection of his "first love" with "the jasmine flower in her fair young breast." The music should represent to the audience the cause of his emotions and suggest something of the original environments. recitation is one of my favorites, and I think that I have had more success with it than with any other. I have given it with and without the music. It has been best received when given with the musical accompaniment. Only once has anyone said that the music detracted in any way from the artistic effect of the recitation. That was when the music happened to be played too loud. I think nearly everything depends on the accompanist. I have also used "Music on the Rappahannock" and "That Waltz of von Weber's.' The first-named is good because it is a very realistic selection -one that will soften the heart of everyone who hears it. The other is a dainty, charming piece in which the rhythm of the waltz sets the heart of the hearer to dancing to the music of Weber's wild tunes."

Where the music is sufficiently subordinated to the recitation and is not made a means of covering up the defects of the speaker, the effect must be artistic and pleasing. Not every recitation can be given

with a musical background. Only those in which the thought is closely interwoven with some melody should be treated in this way. Instead of weakening the play of the imagination, as some think, does it not give greater impetus to that faculty of the mind? Does it not enable the audience to behold with clearer mental vision what the reciter has in mind. I am glad that this subject has been opened for discussion. I am prepared to be strengthened in my convictions, or to give them up if it can be shown that this part of our work is not capable of artistic expression.

Mr. Ad. M. Foerster, Pittsburg.

My very limited observations lead me to suspect that neither music nor recitation, viewed from their artistic significance, are enhanced by these associations. I judge from the results attained, that there are few composers who have thought seriously of this mode of composition.

Mrs. May Donnally Kelso, Chicago.

It is with somewhat of the feeling of a soldier going into battle that I respond to Mr. Werner's artfully-worded invitation to give my views upon the subject of musically accompanied recitations. It seems a simple enough request to make and to grant, but Mr. Werner knows as well as I that the consequence of my accepting his invitation will be an avalanche of verbal shot-and-shell launched straight at my unfortunate head by readers, authors and publishers of this most peculiar form of entertainment,—the musical or unmusical recitation. However, I shall duck my head and hold my breath" until the combat ceases and the smoke clears

away, hoping that an honest opinion, although unpalatable to many, may find a handful or so of supporters among the more thoughtful members of our profession.

I object to musically accompanied recitations from two standpoints: The first, that of common sense and good taste; the second, that of science as related to acoustics. From the first point of view what a trial must one's sense of "the eternal fitness of things" endure, in listening to the majority of these hybrid productions. What could, for instance, be more absurd than being called upon to sympathize with the sufferings of an unhappy prisoner in a solitary dungeon, or of a shipwrecked sailor clinging to a spar, when their laments and death-throes are accompanied by a piano, harp, or organ obligato,-usually performed in full view of the audience by a young person in evening costume! From the second standpoint the objections become more fixed and definite, being no longer founded upon taste, which must always, of course, be largely a matter of education and environment.

The idea of wedding music and poetry in the form of the musically accompanied recitation is perhaps attractive, but when reduced to practical illustration, it seems hard to believe that a correct musical ear can find the union anything but inharmonious, and this for good and scientific reasons.

The dissatisfaction is not merely a matter of taste or of fancy, but arises from the fundamental difference which exists between the tones of speech and those of song. These tones, although produced by the same organs and in like manner, have one great point of diversity; i. e.. a singing tone is prolonged at will upon a level line of pitch, until it jumps or skips to another, while a speaking-tone changes its pitch with every uttered syllable, passing in a gliding man. ner up or down from any chosen range of pitch and terminating with a delicate attenuation of sound at some point above or below the starting-place. This manner of progression also occurs occasionally in song, but it then becomes an element of expressive significance called a slur" or "slide," while in speech it is but the natural inexpressive function of the voice taking place, as before stated, upon every syllable we utter. Take a simple sentence, such as, "It is a fine day." Speak it quietly, without special significance and each syllable beginning upon a certain pitch and closing upon another, and we shall have at least ten different tones, in addition to the tones lying between these, and which are lightly touched as the voice glides up and down in its syllabic function.

Now, when we understand that each tone is not simple but complex, being composed of a fundamental and its accompanying overtones, and that two overtones arising from different fundamentals produce a summational tone differing in pitch from both fundamentals, and, further, that two fundamental tones-say of voice and pianosounding simultaneously, produce resultant tones, we begin to realize that instead of having two simple factors, i. e., voice and instrument, to deal with in musically accompanied recitations, we have a vast army of contending forces which must be reconciled if we would have harmony in lieu of dissonance as our result.

As a curved line is composed of an infinite number of short straight lines, so what is known as noise is composed of an infinite number of short musical tones. In singing, the voice and the instrument take the same key and as the overtones, resultant and summational tones harmonize, we have music. In reading, the key constantly changes, and this more rapidly than any man-made instrument can follow. In the attempt to accompany the reading-voice, therefore, discordant overtones, resultant and summa. tional tones result, and we have noise.

In listening to a musically accompanied recitation, I am often irresistibly reminded of the Autocrat of the Breakfast table's declaration that in every argument between two people-say John and Thomas-at least six distinct personalities take part, i. e., the real John, John's ideal John, and Thomas's

ideal John; the real Thomas, Thomas's ideal Thomas, and John's ideal Thomas. •No wonder," he remarks," that among so many there should be more or less confusion."

From the rhythmical standpoint, also, this species of entertainment offends the "judicious," the instinctive endeavor to "keep time" with the accompaniment often producing a reading which resembles a measured scansion of the lines, in lieu of the freely flowing and sustaining rhythm which permits the thought to direct and guide the measure into its appropriate and expressive rate of progression.

I do not consider the fact that great composers have, at rare intervals, or once during their whole career, set music to spoken language of any weight in this discussion. All great musical geniuses have experimented in every conceivable direction. Beethoven, for example, wrote songs, symphonies, concertos, sonatas, an opera, chamber music, music for violin and for all solo instruments and these in every known musical form. He finally settled down to the expression of his musical thoughts in the sonata form, which form reached its highest development through his genius. A great number, however, of Beethoven's experimental writings published posthumously are mediocre, and would probably never have seen the light had the composer been consulted. That be tried the experiment of writing an accompaniment to one of Goethe's poems is no proof that he sanctioned the innovation or approved of his own effort in that direction. On the contrary, the fact that he did so little along that line is proof that the experiment was not, in his own eyes, worthy of repeated effort, as Beethoven always wrote voluminously in the forms which satisfied his high sense of artistic beauty. What applies to Beethoven, certainly does to Schumann in a much greater degree, as the latter's experiments were of the most daring nature, sometimes rising to almost divine heights and again sinking to the level of the merely grotesque. We all know that this great writer's mind was unbalanced, and it was probably in a moment of "temporary aberration of intellect" that the idea of writing a musical accompaniment to spoken lines was born. Great geniuses always have imitators, and these frequently select the failures or mistakes of their models for imitation.

Perhaps I shall be told that public taste craves the musical recitation. If so, who but the earnest, sincere reader shall undertake to form it to the appreciation of better things? Surely the field for legitimate reading is sufficiently broad to avert any necessity for resorting to catchy devices to attract popular attention. In proof of this read the long list of one-author programs published of late in the columns of WERNER'S MAGAZINE.