Musical Thought and Activity Over the Seas

by Arthur Elson

In the Neue Zeitschrift Edgar Istel writes interestingly of the real folk-music of Andalusia. Outsiders think Carmen a true picture, but Spaniards realize its French character; while Figaro and Il Barbiere are Italian in style. The national operas of Spain are the Zarzuclas, or bright musical farces. Meanwhile, the comparative lack of travel in the southern part of the country has kept the folk-music intact, as Dr. Istel found while living in Seville and Granada.

The real local color at Seville is found in the "Feria," a combination of annual market and festival lasting from the 15th to the 20th of April. All classes of people enter into it fully, and it has a glamor that seems almost oriental. It arose from the market-day, and gradually grew in importance. Now there are primitive booths of all kinds, besides the market stalls, and in them gypsies sing or dance to attract people to buy some refreshing drink or a meal of roast fowl. There are lemonade stands, puppet shows, and booths of trinkets. Very interesting are the Casitas, or tented houses, where on the occasion the firls of refined families may dance the national dances in public. Dr. Istel watched this spectacle often, and in crowds of the most mixed character. Guitars were used for accompaniment, with an occasional piano. The girls, in fine array and with roses in their hair, would dance the Seguidilla (Sevillana) in most attractive fashion, emphasizing the rhythm with castanuelas (castanets). The playing of the latter demands a special knack, which is best learned by having some fair dancer show one the method.

Similar to the Seguidilla is the Bolero, also in 3/4 time, but a little quieter in style. In both of these, as in about all the Spanish dances, the music may be sung by the dancer, the lower classes being especially fond of this singing. The Bolero had its rise in the late eighteenth century, while Cervantes mentions the existence of the Seguedilla at the end of the sixteenth. A variety called the Bolero Atiranado has some measures of the Tirana, a gently 6/8 song. The Tirana was danced also a century ago. Other popular dances are the Fandangoes, of which the Malaguena, Roudena, Granadina, and Murciana are varieties. The accompaniments may include guitars, castanets, small cymbals, triangle, or even violins. There are two kinds of guitar playing. "Puntear la guitarra" is to pluck it in the rhythmic way that we know; while "Rasguear la guitarra" is to strum it in arpeggios. The latter method, usual for fandangoes, consists of a plucking by four fingers for a chord, and a return of the index finger over the strings for the second chord.

In Southern Spain are a number of street musicians, often poor blind men, who sing before coffee houses and similar places. Their music is sometimes remarkable, and Dr. Istel put some of it into his "Recuerdo de Granada," now published for violin and piano instead of the original mandolins, lute, and guitar. The Andalusian music has two elements, Arab and Gypsy. The Arabs of Africa still long for Andalusia, keeping old keys and plans of Spanish places once owned by their families. The Spaniards, too, are often of Arab descent. The Gypsies, who settled only in Spain and Hungary, keep up their musical traditions. The writer describes an evening dance in a Granada garden. Under soft lights, impressive-looking men and graceful, impulsive women and children would give an hour's entertainment, for paid admission. The music of guitars and castanets, the splendidly colored garments, the dance and song, with occasional bursts of wild chorus, produced a weirdly fantastic effect. The Cucharar is a wonderfully effective Gypsy song, while the Polo Gitana is an attractive 3/8 dance.

These notes for last June gave an account of some musical mistakes made by poets and writers. The Monthly Musical Record now adds a few more. Charles Reade, it seems, makes Peg Woffington whistle "a quick movement" upon a paste right, and then states that Mr. Cibber was much surprised by "this sparkling adagio." Many people besides Mr. Cibber will be surprised.

A more recent novel gives a description of a Scottish Highlander sitting by the roadside and singing a Jacobite song. This seemed natural enough, but the novelist added that he was accompanying himself upon the bagpipe. That Highlander would surely have a great future on our vaudeville circuits.

The Record was moved to comment by an article on Dr. Johnson's musical definitions. Dr. Johnson, it is remembered, was wholly unmusical. Once he bought a flageolet (A sad choice of instrument), but he never succeeded in playing a tune on it. Later in life he asked Dr. Burney to show him "at least the alphabet" of music; but his dictionary defines a sonata as "a tune," and a symphony as "many performers playing the same tune." In a tour of the Hebrides, Johnson was so pleased with the music (?) of a bagpipe that he stood near the "great drone" to hear it. Sidney Smith, however, thought one might as well speak of playing on an iron foundry as on a bagpipe; and Leigh Hunt's idea of martyrdom was to be chained within a hundred feet of a sturdy Highland piper. Of writers in general, Andrew Lang once said that they hated music; but even Dr. Johnson called it "the least disagreeable of noises."