New Anthem

Three years ago Musical America offered a $3,000 prize for the best symphonic work to be composed by an American. The judges were Conductors Walter Damrosch, Leopold Stokowski, Alfred Hertz, Frederick Stock, Serge Koussevitzky, and they chose unanimously from 92 scores an "epic rhapsody" called America by Ernest Block That the prize-winning music was by Bloch, who is considered by many the foremost U. S. composer, and that so distinguished an array of judges had professed themselves enthusiatic and promised, each one, to give America an early performance, combined to arouse more interest than could any blatant heralding of just another prize symphony. High hopes, then, seemed on a substantial basis when last week audiences in Manhattan, Philadelphia, Cincinnati, Chicago, San Francisco and Los Angeles flocked, almost simultaneously,* to hear the first performance.

They heard a symphony which has for its scope the story of the development of America, the definition of its powers. "O America, because you build for mankind, I build for you." Thus did Composer Bloch quote from Walt Whitman on the flyleaf of his score. Then for the first movement, under the head "1620," come sound pictures of colonial days, of Indians hearing the mournful call of death, of pilgrims arriving jubilantly in answer to the first loud, clear call of America (the theme is easily marked as the outstanding one in the anthem). Dark days come in the second movement dated for the Civil War. "I hear America singing" is the marking on the score and what Bloch hears he repeats--snatches of old Negro songs, of "Old Folks at Home," "Pop Goes the Weasel," "Hail Columbia," "John Brown's Body," the "Battle Cry of Freedom," "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp." There is conflict then driving the music on to another loud climax. The theme again is "America" but it is mournful and bleeding now until the third movement, "1926," takes it up again and syncopates it. Then comes speed, prosperity. Man is the slave of machines. It is the age of materialism and there must come the inevitable collapse but the "America" ideal endures and the finale is an anthem for which audiences rose to their feet, joined in the singing.

Ernest Bloch is a Swiss Jew, 58, and director of the San Francisco Conservatory. Twelve years ago he came to the U. S. when the War had wiped out his business in Geneva and his only hope was for music that would not be born in chaos. Virtually penniless, he arrived in Manhattan and yet it was then there came to him first longings to make a national anthem, one more profoundly characteristic than "The Star Spangled Banner." Friends frowned on the idea and for ten years he let it sleep. Meanwhile he taught composition at the David Mannes Music School, Manhattan; appeared as conductor of his own works with various orchestras. His prestige grew. In 1920 he was called to Cleveland to be head of the Institute of Music. In 1925 he went to San Francisco but all the while he was making music that, like his C Sharp Minor symphony and his Israel, stamped him as a composer of rare skill and deep sincerity--one whose sombre brooding music seemed to match uncannily the sombre bearded face with the deep-set eyes. So it was perhaps that many were surprised, last week, at the medley of dittyish tunes that found their way into America. They knew best the Bloch of the Israel, who plunged deep into the Hebrew soul and spoke to it all in dark, glowing harmonies. "Pop Goes the Weasel" and "Yankee Doodle" seemed silly stuff for such a man to trouble with and yet his passionate sincerity, the superb skill with which he had linked it all into his epic saved it from ever appearing inane. Ironically, to most critics, only the anthem seemed unworthy of Bloch. "But banal or not it seemed to please the public, to arouse many a patriotic reaction.

* Manhattan, Cincinnati and San Francisco heard it first on Dec. 20, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Los Angeles on Dec. 21.