Should any of them show the least signs of demanding intellectual effort for immediate appreciation, the modern manager cuts out the offending matter, without a moment's hesitation, or the least compunction. The immense popularity these entertainments command is, unquestionably, a tribute to the sound judgment of those who control them. It is an interesting fact that within quite recent years, there has been a marked tendency to bring continental successes to London, and the music they have contained has often called forth eulogistic notices from the critics, on the occasions of their first performances. A visit to the theatre a month or so later, would, I fear, generally reveal the fact that most of it, which had earned such high praise, had been eliminated.
So accurate a judge of public taste as Mr. George Edwardes, is able to run three or four of such, or similar, pieces, simultaneously, in the West End of London, each of which must fill the house night after night for months together, before they show a profit, on so sumptuous a scale are they presented.
Viewing such facts as these, it is difficult to see on what grounds, really logical, any demand for help from the State can be made on behalf of grand opera, which it would be difficult to prove that the general public, apart from the comparatively few enthusiasts, have any desire for, when it is so abundantly evident that they
are ever eager to support any kind of recreation or relaxation that they do want.
The basis of the plea is, no doubt, musical education for the masses; and, while such a desire must attract the sympathy of every music lover, it must be granted that the ability to appreciate Wagner, Elgar or Strauss, is not a necessary part of a working man's attainments. It might be a very desirable thing, but we are very evidently at a more utilitarian stage, the present day being regarded in its true light. The illustration may appear, at first sight, to be somewhat strained, but I venture to think it is not, judging by notices one reads in the papers, in which Mendelssohn's violin concerto is written of as, "a hackneyed medium of expression"; Gounod's "Faust" as full of "sickly sentimentality," or Bizet's "Carmen" as a work of "essential vulgarity." There may be an element of truth in either of these criticisms, and judged in the light of the writers' probable high standard of æsthetic tastes, they are justified, but they only emphasise the fact of the veritable abyss that separates the modern cultured musical critic from the musical "man in the street," in whose interest the proposition is put forward.
Supposing the government at any time, contemplated taking action in this direction, the first thing they would probably do, would be to appoint a Commission to enquire into the question.
It is only natural to suppose that among the first of those whose opinions would be sought,
the eminent writers on music in the principal journals of the country, would be conspicuous. In this case, it may be taken for granted that unanimity will not be the chief characteristic of their utterances. For instance, I cannot bring myself to think of Mr. Joseph Bennett, whose services to music in the columns of the "Daily Telegraph," for many years were so generally recognised, writing in such terms of Mendelssohn's violin concerto.
The question teems with difficulties.
One school of thought asks for opera given exclusively in the English language and performed, as far as possible by British artists. Another, for opera given in the language in which it was composed, and rendered by singers of the country it represents, or those competent to sing adequately in it. Again, some urge that there should be occasional performances of such simple works as Balfe's "Bohemian Girl," which the least musically educated would be able to appreciate; while others would ban such operas altogether, on the grounds that they are out of the spirit of the age, and that their representation would be sheer waste of time and opportunity.