music of the highest artistic worth. In this connection we must
always remember that music does not “stay put,” like a picture
on the wall. We cannot walk through it, as is the case with a
cathedral; turn back, as in a book; touch it, as with a statue.
It is not the expression of more or less definite ideas, such as
we find in prose and poetry. On the other hand, it rushes upon
us with the impassioned spirit of an eloquent orator, and what
we get from it depends almost entirely upon our own intensity
of application and upon our knowledge of the themes and of
the general purpose of the work. Only with increased familiar-
ity does the architecture stand revealed. Beethoven, it is said,
when once asked the meaning of a sonata of his, played it over
again and replied, “It means that.” Music is itself. The question
for every music-lover is: can I equip myself in such a way as to
feel at home in this language, to receive the message as directly
as possible, and finally with perfect ease and satisfaction? This
equipment demands a strong, accurate memory, a keen power
of discrimination and a sympathetic, open mind.
Another paradoxical characteristic of music on which it is in-
teresting to reflect is this: Music is the oldest as well as the
youngest of the arts,i.e., it has always[7] existed generically, and
all human beings born, as they are, with a musical instrument—
the voice—areipso factomusicians; and yet in boundless scope
of possibilities it is just in its infancy. For who can limit the
combinations of sound and rhythm, or forecast the range of the
human imagination? The creative fancy of the composer is al-
ways in advance of contemporary taste and criticism. Hence,
in listening to new music, we should beware of reckless asser-
tions of personal preference. The first question, in the presence
of an elaborate work of music, should never be, “Do I like it
or not?” but “Do I understand it?” “Is the music conveying
a logical message to me, or is it merely a sea of sound?” The
first and last article in the music-lover’s creed, I repeat, should
befamiliarity. When we thoroughly know a symphony, sym-
phonic poem or sonata so that, for example, we can sing the
themes to ourselves, the music will reveal itself. The difference
between the trained listener and the person of merely general
musical tendencies is that the former gains a definite meaning
from the music often at a first hearing; whereas, to the latter,
many hearings are necessary before he can make head or tail
of the composition. Since the creative composer of music is a
thinker in tones, our perceptions must be so trained that, as we