The question of adequate financial support for opera is not easily solved. There is much discussion of a Ministry of Fine Arts in Washington, and of the possibility of government subsidies for various types of musical enterprise. Some of the discussion has ignored matters involving American politics, and which contain many a snare. Governmental subsidies for the arts on the European continent date back to the pre-Revolutionary era, and carry on a long tradition in which cultural matters for the most part were kept out of politics. At the moment it seems Utopian to think that such a state of affairs could be easily achieved here at the expense of the ever-vigilant taxpayer. If subsidies, at least those at the Federal level, do not seem likely or wholly desirable at the present time and under present conditions, solutions must be sought elsewhere—in municipal or state subsidies, or in large foundations. For the moment we must content ourselves with and draw encouragement from the great variety and vitality of the various forces which flourish and prosper luxuriantly throughout our music life. It is difficult to believe, in view of all these impulses and purposeful activities, that ultimately a solution should not be found.
V
We have attempted to show that the business mentality that directs so many of our musical institutions fosters an economy of scarcity as regards talent and repertory. We have tried to show how it tends drastically to restrict opportunities for young artists and their careers and to limit repertory. The aim of a cautious policy, as we have stated, is to satisfy the immediate wishes of the greatest possible number of listeners. To maintain prices, as well as the prevalent values, as high as possible, the tendency is, among other things, to restrict the number of goods for “sale.”
Curiously enough, the effect of this business point of view in radio and with respect to phonograph and recordings is quite different. No doubt the business mentality is as predominant here as it is in the concert and opera business. In radio and recordings, however, it fosters an economy of abundance. One may guess why it works that way. Fewer, not more recordings would be sold if the output were restricted to performances by celebrities, even if they were more highly priced. In view of the nature of the product, the policy must be to sell as many recordings as possible. To that end, policy will always center on variety of both performances and works performed. In the service of an economy which favors expansiveness and flexibility, it is also necessary to maintain an even higher degree of technical perfection. The result is that there is already available a large and representative selection of recordings of music from every period, including our own. This repertory is steadily growing larger.
Similar conditions prevail in radio, though in a less striking and more sporadic manner, since American radio is largely supported by commercial sponsors. Competition plays so great a role that giving programs a conspicuously individual character is every sponsor’s aim, and since many radio programs consist of concerts of recorded music, the tenor is abundance rather than scarcity.
A discussion of music education in the United States must consider the educational impact of both recordings and radio performances during the past twenty-five years. Anyone interested in music has a range of musical experiences previously unheard-of at his disposal; and it is the rule that a young person wishing to undertake serious study of music already has acquired an appreciable knowledge of music literature, a rather experienced sense for interpretation, and even a certain musical judgment—sometimes surprisingly good—before he embarks upon such study.
There is a negative side. The knowledge acquired is not necessarily intimate nor profound. It is knowledge different from that resulting from studying scores and reading them, in some manner, at the piano. Teachers are aware of the deceptive familiarity of American students with music of all periods and nations and of their frequent glibness which astonishes one until he discovers that all is based on a facile and superficial experience with little to back it up. This is a problem of education, and a state of affairs which our teachers are trying to correct.
In this connection a leitmotif which frequently comes up in a discussion of music in America is: what can and should music mean to us? Is it an article we buy for whatever effortless enjoyment we can derive from it, or is it a valid medium of expression worth knowing intimately, through real participation, even on a modest level? In other words, are we to be content with superficial acquaintance, or do we want genuine experience, and the criteria derived only from the latter?
Such alternatives are often not clearly formulated, and that fact alone is both the result of, and a contributing factor to causing a confusion of ends often observed in our situation. The confusion derives from the fact that until a relatively short time ago music was for us predominantly an article de luxe which was to be enjoyed without the obligation of intimate knowledge. As pointed out, at times we even doubted whether we were, by birthright, entitled to, or capable of fulfilling such an obligation, and the growing impulse toward vital musical experiences developed from this basis. Gradually the ideas of education, at least on the elementary or nonprofessional level, obtained. A result of the schism even today is the wide divergence between instruction considered adequate for the layman and that required by the professional musician—a divergence which, as far as this author knows, has no parallel in any other field of education.