Plain Talk
By
Mursi Saad El-Din
Music seems to be in the air, or at least in print. Seldom have I come across as many articles on music as I did last week. There were column inches galore about the revival of folk music, about the first charismatic black soprano to sing in the Messiah at the London Wigmore Hall, about Joan Baez, queen of the sixties protest movement who is now chanting anti-war songs and joining anti-war marches.
And, of course, I had the pleasure of watching a great music performance at the foot of the Pyramids. What struck me about the event was the number of young people in attendance enjoying what was, at one time, regarded as entertainment for an intellectual elite. Classical music has seldom, so to speak, been the young person's cup of tea.
This took me back to my university years, 1939-1943, a time that coincided with World War II. I remember how our tutor in the English department formed a gramophone society with the aim of introducing us to classical music. I suppose it was natural that he would choose Rimsky Korsakov's Sheherezade as our first taste of that kind of music.
It was this introduction that constituted the first steps I took on the road to enjoying symphonies, sonatas, and even operatic arias from the more popular Italian operas. As luck had it, Cairo during the war was awash with visiting orchestras which arrived to entertain the troops posted here. We poor civilians, thankfully, managed to edge our way into the concerts.
During the war the venues for music were many and varied, ranging from All Saints Cathedral to the Royal Opera House as well as university halls: Fouad I University (now Cairo), the Ewart Memorial and Oriental halls of the American University and others all served as concert spaces. We were taken by our tutor to listen to Shostakovich's Stalingrad Symphony, Glinka's Russian and Ludmilla, Rachmanioff's Concerto No2 in E minor and his 5th Symphony. We also heard Dvorak's Symphony No5, popularly known as the "New World" symphony.
Classical music was well supported and by the end of 1944 it had reached a very high standard of performance. A Middle East Symphony Orchestra was formed and it presented a Beethoven Festival comprising symphonies No 2, 5, 6 and 7 as well as piano concertos and violin concertos.
I can go on enumerating the concerts given during those years and the artists who performed: George Themell, Ella Goldstein, Girla Bachauer, Betty Mathews, Gerald Grover -- all celebrated artists at the time.
Before attending a particular performance our tutor would explain to us the structure and the thought behind the music. Music, he used to say, was more than pure emotion. He would provide us with an analysis and explanation, furnishing the necessary framework that would guide us through the complex structure of each piece on the programme.
During those years there was also a series of radio talks explaining the basics of scale and harmony, and analysing pieces by different composers.
When I think about this period I feel surprised at the very real interest shown in classical music. That interest continued for some time before it faded, only to be revived in the 1960s following the creation of the Cairo Symphony Orchestra.
However, it took some time to build up an enthusiastic audience. At times the orchestra used to play to half-full theatres, which must have been a disappointing experience for the musicians.
It looks as if, through the regular activities of the Opera House, the emerging number of Egyptian players and singers, the visits of foreign orchestras and artists, that a solid audience has once again been created. What is really heartwarming is that many of them are young people. This reminds me of the motto of the Irish literary movement: "Give what is high brow until it becomes popular."
