A number of musicians have lived in Savannah. Lowell Mason was here for a time. I know him mostly for the hymn, Watchman, which is one of the themes of Charles Ives' Fourth Symphony. So too was the composer of Jingle Bells, who, I see here, served for a time in the Confederate Army.
Leaving aside the pros and cons of having fought for the South, I am always intrigued by musicians who move out of their studio, so to speak.
I remember reading once that 19th century military men and diplomats who met the virtuoso Franz Liszt would regret that such a brilliant man was wasted on music. When I read that, as a music student, I resented such oaf-headedness. But now I look at the stories that fascinate me.
I am trying to produce an opera on Philippa Duke Schuyler, the Harlem-born concert pianist, who died ferrying schoolchildren to safety during an attack on Hue in the Vietnam War. I have always admired the fact that Faubion Bowers, Scriabin's biographer, was General MacArthur's aide-de-camp in occupied Japan, and is credited with saving Kabuki theater. The other day I read that the actress Hedy Lamarr worked with the composer George Antheil on a radio navigation system for anti-submarine torpedoes during World War II.
What is my fascination with these stories? Am I somehow concerned about classical music's relevance to life? I also remember reading Richard Taruskin’s account of how, in the era of Soviet oppression, his Russian friends would hang out for the latest Shostakovich. Do we do that for any classical composer now? Yet, it wouldn’t be true to say that music is not important. People get very het up over their favourite music. It’s so much an issue of who we are.
I do get concerned though when I see orchestral seasons simply re-combining the same 75 or so works.
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