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ON HEARING WHAT YOU WANT WHEN YOU WANT IT

1921; Oxford University Press; Volume: VII; Issue: 4 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1093/mq/vii.4.559

1741-8399

Carl Van Vechten,

r T"*HERE are times when life seems to be a very faulty reality.I Reflecting to-day, for example, in my garret, I find myself in a melancholy mood following a perusal of the advertising columns of the newspapers.I have looked through the concertannouncements for the day only to discover that I must hear-if I hear anything at all-either Beethoven's Seventh Symphony or Mozart's Symphony in G minor; either the Coriolan Overture or the Overture to Euryanthe; either Chabrier's Bourree Fantasque (which I have never heard) or Sibelius's Finlandia; and, at the opera, I am offered Aidal Now this is all very discouraging to a man of temperament who would like to order his music as he orders his library or his veal kidneys.One is never obliged to eat at some one else's behest, one reads according to one's fancy, but when one wants to listen to music, one must perforce listen to what is being played or else not listen at all, unlessand here one must admit the futility of the comparison-one is Ludwig of Bavaria.This afternoon I have a whim to attend a concert which shall consist of Cesar Franck's D minor symphony, Stravinsky's Sacre du Printemps, and Debussy's La Mer.Franck's symphony will, of course, be performed some time this winter, but the performance will be sure to fall on a day on which I have no ambition to hear it, and the other pieces will not, in all probability, be performed at all.My temporary prejudices and tastes in music, indeed, never seem to be in accord with my opportunities.I longed for many years, for example, to hear Vincent d'Indy's Istar.The idea of the music disrobing, as the goddess of the legend disrobed, awakened my curiosity which was still further whetted by the rhapsodies which Philip Hale and James Huneker have constructed around the piece.But curiosity dies in time and on the day when, finally, I saw the thing announced, I discovered, to my surprise, that all appetite had left me.Nevertheless, on a bright winter afternoon, when I should have preferred to walk in the