A Voice To Break Out Of The Wilderness

 

Deems Taylor Makes Classical Music For Millions

Do any of us still evangelize for old film? Not me. Whatever civilian disdains my Devil Bat can eat cake, or dab on Doctor Carruthers’ shave lotion. There is forlornness to people who preach for any art, as it seems always a hopeless cause. I’ve done it on behalf of what some call “classics,” but you all know what work that can be, and how seldom it is rewarded. List of those paid to do what they love is short as a boxer dog’s tail. One who did cash checks for spreading joy of music past was Deems Taylor. He spent much of a twentieth century making the case for classical, on radio, in person, as Fantasia spokesman. He also wrote books, opera, symphonies of his own. Taylor was of sort not born anymore, or else our world is no longer such place as will accommodate a Deems Taylor, or anyone of renaissance bent like he had. This all-round intellect who sat at the Algonquin Table composed music good as any of latter-day who tried, Taylor blessed by one-of-us quality that made him easy to listen to and laugh with, secret to his mainstream success being humor to break barriers between long hair music and crewcuts that chose generally to ignore it. Taylor took away intimidation factor that kept Great Music on margins of public acceptance. If we had him out there on behalf of classic film, there’d be a lot more average Joes and Janes in thrall of what is vintage. So has movie fandom had a Deems Taylor to gather flocks? Robert Osborne was close, if confined to TCM. Taylor got seen/heard everywhere. And he made the case for movies too, having wrote a first Pictorial History (in 1943) to cover beginnings, and forward, to then-present. Revisions, enlargements, were constant. A Pictorial History of the Movies was one, if not the, key volume to set generations upon path to picture love.

There were at least six printings that I know about, my copy from 1950 once owned by Josephine Dillon, the first Mrs. Clark Gable. Got it at nominal cost, had no idea it had been hers before opening to the flyleaf. But never mind, the discovery here is Deems Taylor, and how his outreach for music parallels effort others have tried in support of film. Movies were obviously of interest to Taylor, but not his priority as was music. Three books he wrote, Of Men and Music (1937), The Well-Tempered Listener (1940), and Music To My Ears (1949), summarize the author’s philosophy as to what makes classical music special, and how all should appreciate and enjoy it. Each volume derived from intermission talks he gave during symphonies broadcast between 1936 and 1943, his peak of exposure to a mass audience (ten million listeners weekly). Some of chapters came of columns he did for newspapers or popular magazines. His prose was aimed at an average reader, those not necessarily disposed toward classical music, but open-minded enough to trust Deems Taylor and let him guide listening choices. Of Men and Music and The Well-Tempered Listener stayed popular through the war, Armed Service Editions adapted from both, compact enough to fit in uniform pockets. The thing I discovered about these books is how easily content could plug in to arguments we would make for past film, proselytizing in many ways for a same cause, for what really is the difference between any of arts, so long as you’re committed to wider spreading of them? Deems Taylor spent a lifetime shaping his contention, using wit and relaxed style to make syrup go down smooth. Proponents for film can learn lots from this man.

Deems Taylor and Date Turn Out for RKO Palace Premiere of Citizen Kane

Taylor warned in the introduction to his first book “that many a potential music lover is frightened away by the solemnity of music’s devotees. They would make more converts if they would rise from their knees.” Amen to that insight, and yes, my knees buckle for spoilage of a Searchers or Vertigo, wings pulled off butterflies by shovel-dug solemnity. They once entertained, but now? Had I read present analysis of The Searchers, then seen it my first time in 1975, chances are good I would not have sat three hours at George Ashwell’s house trying to reason him out of a 16mm IB his confederate waltzed out of Warner Bros. Film Gallery. As to Vertigo, never mind. Was it ever worse off than when appointed Best, Finest, whatever? And who were those critics that so contaminated it with their votes? Nobody asked me to pick a best, though chances are I would have put Devil Bat on the ballot just to rock boats. Deems Taylor was always for staying out of deep dishes, those a ruin to joy for music much as film suffers from same. He fought snobbery wherever it raised an ugly puss. Someone laid a light diss on John Philip Sousa (“While it can hardly be said that John Philip Sousa was a great musician ---"), and on went Taylor gloves. He had been a fan from youth (with Sousa above at left), was chummy with the venerable bandsman: “For me, a great musician, like any other great artist, is one whose name identifies his work,” and Sousa certainly achieved that … still does. Many a past filmmaker is largely ignored, but with champions to keep at least a flicker of flame lit. "Ripe For Rediscovery" is a lead seen lots, applied to, say, William Witney (who made better program westerns?), Charley Chase (funny, or funnier, than the Big Three, or is it Big Four?), Ida Lupino as director, no, auteur. The list could go on. What is it about film fans that make a seeming one, or precious few, carry flags for the otherwise forgotten? Typical of movie “buffs” (hate that word) to identify with the marginalized. Did Deems Taylor see himself as a Sousa not properly applauded because he was too d---ed entertaining?

This and Samples Below: Taylor Captions for A Pictorial History of the Movies

Taylor alerted us more than once to fact music had not always played so well as for symphony broadcasts he hosted. Most did not dream (me neither), that “up to the very third quarter of the nineteenth century, a composer not only had to struggle to get his ideas down on paper, but then had to worry about getting a decent performance.” Organs for instance, electric by the 30’s and doing what players deigned, were once “blunderboxes,” as Billy Gilbert might call them, seldom sounding the way composers intended. Bach and Mozart created music for keyboards that, in their day, produced tone that was “pale, characterless tinkle.” Grand pianos were generations off, proper rendering of compositions heard only in the imagination of those who wrote them. Wind instruments were worse. Just getting it loud was a job called done. Eighteenth-century listeners “had no possible conception” of how Beethoven’s music should register. Taylor wanted modern audiences to appreciate how good they had it, what with instruments to realize all of values classical composers intended, but in their lifetimes never heard. Has digital raised presentation of film to a same acme? Apparati we now use could not have been imagined in analog circumstance, strides so considerable as to beggar belief. Having argued for/against “purity” of celluloid, I still side with what is newest (how long until 4K becomes a quaint past thing?). Had we been shown, twenty years ago, what is now possible to view in our homes, on top of access so ready, would we have called it a dream unattainable? How often have we said, It Can’t Get Better, then along comes something to prove, oh yes it can. Taylor’s telling of progress in music, at least improved means of performing it, harks by over eighty years to what we see now in delivery and consumption of movies.

Two Who Tickled a Mainstream with Classics: Deems Taylor with Leopard Stokowski

Radio was unique opportunity to popularize classical music, a best the country so far had. In 1937, four networks together averaged thirteen hours a week of live symphonic recital. These were for most part “sustaining” programs, meaning no sponsors, but broadcasters felt, at least claimed to feel, a “responsibility” in bringing culture to their nationwide listeners. Music begat prestige, and eventually corporations wanted in, thus General Motors Concerts (they had their own orchestra), with Ford close behind. CBS arranged with the New York Philharmonic to present Sunday performances, their midway intermission filled by Deems Taylor and entertaining background he supplied for selections offered. Half-point chats had been tried with others, none a click until Taylor took over (11/8/36), him seasoned at selling music to masses, having hosted the Chase and Sanborn Opera Guild (1934), getting six minutes as guest on Rudy Vallee’s Fleischmann Yeast Hour to “describe the evolution of different orchestral instruments” (Deems Taylor: A Biography, by James A. Pegolotti). Taylor as on-air emcee had style and wit, shared scoop on colorful long-ago composers all too human despite genius they were better known for. Taylor was an engaging TCM host before there was TCM. Folks on farms, far-flung midland outposts, discovered classical music and how Deems Taylor could help them enjoy it. No longer exclusive province of a metropolitan elite, now everyone could get cultivated. Some critics called Taylor “middlebrow.” Possibly they felt threatened by him. Not everyone was for democratizing the arts, particularly those who sought to keep finer things solely for themselves. Taylor shared facts few knew, like how greatest of composers were panned in their lifetimes by a critical establishment. Who would guess Mozart and Beethoven took licks, or realize Richard Wagner was a “Monster,” Taylor’s term to describe this most anti-social of creators.

Deems Taylor held strong opinions. He did not try pleasing everyone. Herewith an eye-opener from Of Men and Music: “The proportion of rubbish to great music that is being written today is what it has always been: about ninety percent.” This takes me aback. I could believe it’s true for now, but in the 30’s, let alone in Beethoven or Mozart’s time? But then that is my idea, or ideal, of varied Golden Eras. Taylor was no such enchanted. He would put most, if not all, of jazz among the ninety percent, it being “an epoch … out of which we are passing,” this as of the late 30’s when “its monotonous, reiterated underlying beat” was fast headed to obsolescence, or so Taylor thought. “Another romantic age of music is not far off,” the days of Weber and Schumann and Wagner “about to dawn again” (dream on, Deems). Taylor saw jazz as aberrant offspring of the Great War, “fear and grief” making us want to “get away from our emotions.” It is easy to read such as this and think only of how wrongheaded he was. Taylor lived long enough to realize as much for himself (d. 1966). But we would be wrong to assume that everyone except him embraced jazz and variants of it to come. There were cycles and fads to rise in my lifetime that I rejected then, and now. Am I mistaken just for being outnumbered? Taylor states his case, and much of it makes sense. And what if he is right about the ninety percent? Pass music a moment and ask yourself if 90% of movies, then or today, are rubbish. Check a list of every feature released in 1936 (at least 700). I would be almost afraid to, knowing I’d tote up a dozen or so Monograms and say, “Hey, what’s so bad about these? I think they're swell!” Chances are my 90% estimate would reverse the rubbish/good ones ratio. Watched yesterday, for example, Boris Karloff in The Man Who Changed His Mind. Would most put it among ninety percent? Very well. Line them up, I’ll fight ‘em one at a time.

Deems Taylor was not the first crusader for mass (good) music acceptance. There was Theodore Thomas of the previous century. He hailed from Germany, US-arrived at age ten, set forth early upon civilizing savages we were. His orchestra started east from New England to San Francisco, back again, then again, and again. Tours were exhausting, but he got known, extraordinarily loved, by a nation not yet overwhelmed by media. They literally hung off trees to hear Thomas play (his many outdoor events). It is safe to say, in fact many did say, that lives were changed by Thomas introducing them to beauty of sound they did not know existed. You could say that he gave America its culture, at least a first real opportunity to experience culture. Thomas said that “a man who did not know Shakespeare was to be pitied, but a man who did not understand Beethoven has not half lived his life.” Theodore Thomas’ mission was to put worthwhile concerts within reach of all people. His setting forth upon that goal just after close of the Civil War made for higher hills to climb, what with audiences given to beer, tobacco, and lively chat as accompany for music. They also liked polkas or a jig to wash down weight of classics, but at least they were exposed, and over time, took to Great Music mightily. In the end, however, Thomas realized that “neither children nor what are called ‘wage-workers’ were sufficiently advanced intellectually to be able to appreciate the class of music which was his specialty,” this as summed up by Mrs. Thomas when an older/wiser husband quit the road to form Chicago’s Symphony Orchestra, wealthy sponsors agreeing that quality music was appreciated best by “the most cultivated persons.”

Deems Taylor and Daughter at Home in Stamford, Connecticut

Deems Taylor called one of his chapters “Catching Them Young.” It deals with children as introduced to music very early in life, as in six months old. Saddest of grown folk are those who missed out during crucial window that was youth. I wish it meant something to me, they would tell Deems later. A popular tune I can understand and enjoy. But serious music --- anything you fellows would approve of --- sounds too mysterious and complicated to be any fun. Reminds me of an answer I'd get for offering to show someone a black-and-white movie, or worse, a silent movie. It is too late because chances are they were never exposed to such things before. Taylor thought you could raise any child to enjoy fine music. It worked with his daughter. I’m not convinced, however, that such devise would succeed using classic film. I more and more suspect that children grow to love movies only for discovering them on their own. The how might be as close as You Tube or a myriad of streaming services. Taylor said his little girl was hooked by age three, this after concerted effort on his part to expose her to his idea of outstanding music. Not sure I would have enjoyed being his kid. Had someone tried indoctrinating me to classic films, would I have run in another direction? I tend to go badly against the grain as it is. Maybe a reason I so embraced old movies was that nobody endorsed or recommended them to me. Query to readership: Did you come by your interest through someone’s tutelage, or was embrace of films a result of chance, sheer inadvertence?

Finally, Taylor’s crusade to bring American audiences to Grand Opera. Here was reach at stars seemingly beyond his or anyone’s grasp. First were language barriers insurmountable. Operas not being in English made them inaccessible to overwhelming most. Taylor was a realist and friend to common men, latter which could not be expected to sit three hours for a pageant they understood not a syllable of. He pointed out (“What’s Wrong With Opera” chapter in Of Men and Music) that in Europe, they freely translate operas to regional languages, thus Italian originals performed in German for German audiences, and vice versa, habit observed since opera began. Why not over here, Taylor asks? He guesses at reason … we don’t have the resources or wherewithal to do it right, and purists would not tolerate outcome if we did. Meanwhile, we continue to fall asleep or walk out on operas to this day (is this still the case eighty-five years after Taylor spoke his piece?). Hard to fake enjoyment of something you can’t make sense of. Remember in San Francisco when “Blackie Norton” goes to the “Tivoli Opera House” to shut down “Mary Blake’s” singing debut? Blackie watches a few minutes of the recital and is captivated. Even thickhead Harold Huber converts (Gee boss, she’s great), upshot being they back off to let the show go on. Was anyone in real life won over so sudden by opera? If yes, MGM would have done more than just excerpts with Jeanette MacDonald, but then of course they sort of did with her “Operetta” series co-starring Nelson Eddy.

Deems Taylor does not mention movie operettas at all in his books. Did he regard them as bastard offshoots of legitimate opera? Yet it is snobs and highbrows he targets in much of text, so surely Taylor saw operettas as an overall good thing, movies bringing us closest as a group to an opera format we would never accept other than distilled. I confess to having seen but three operas, one each with Lon Chaney, Claude Rains, and Herbert Lom. Some joke … but Deems Taylor might sympathize with a dunce like me. It would be Grand to like Opera if we truly knew what was going on. Taylor struggles with this issue, wishes things could be different, strived to make it so, but like Theodore Thomas in the end, knowing it was not to be, at least in his lifetime. Under heading of Believe It Or Not, he was hired in 1934 by Paramount (pal William LeBaron) to help produce a Grand Opera for film, not a novelty short, a full feature. Never came to fruition, but fact it was even floated was anomaly enough. Speaking of lifetimes, Taylor’s and our own, I looked to see if New York’s Metropolitan Opera House is still there and operational. Relax all, as answer is yes (albeit in a new location since 1966). But here’s what stunned me: There are 125 opera houses in the United States right now. Deems Taylor would not have believed it, as only two were extant (“permanent producing opera companies,” as he put it) during the 30’s, the Metropolitan in Gotham, and the Chicago Civic Opera. I’m resigned enough to us going downhill culturally for a thing like 125 to be all kinds of unexpected, so much so as to pledge being there opening night when northwest North Carolina gets a first Grand site all its own (how about they retrofit the Liberty?).