Stein's Way

Many a man has gone muzzy-minded over the writings of Gertrude Stein. Architecturally, linguistically, they hold meaning only for introvert imaginations. To "normal" minds they are just a loose jumble of words which induce mystified laughter and not much curiosity.

Strange indeed have been the noises issuing from the Copland-Sessions Concerts in Manhattan since last spring, when Composers Aaron Copland and Roger Sessions inaugurated them as a clearinghouse for untried music of their contemporaries. Formidably foolish, almost awesome, appeared the prospect of a Copland-Sessions concert next week, with music by Virgil Thomson, text by Gertrude Stein.

The opus is a sort of chant for four men's voices with piano accompaniment. Its title is Capital, Capitals. It is supposed to represent a conversation among the four capitals of Provence--Aix, Aries, Avignon and Beaux--and according to Composer Thomson "is not about anything any more than any pleasant conversation is about anything."

Excerpts from the Stein text: Did he and his wife and his sister expect to eat little birds. Little birds least of all. All the capitals that begin with A. Aix Aries and Avignon. Those that begin with be Beaux. That makes four. These that begin with B. Barcelona. Those that begin with M. Marseilles and Mallorca. You mean Palma. Yes P. Palma da Mallorca. . First Capital: Egypt. Second Capital: Rabbit. Third Capital: Fingering. Fourth Capital: Ardently silk. Fourth Capital: Spontaneously married. Third Capital: Camel's hair. Second Capital: Eider Down. First Capital: Chenille.

First Capital: It comes from the cater pillar I think.

Second Capital: If travellers come and a rug comes, if a rug comes and travellers have come everything has come and travellers have come.

Third Capital: The third capital, they have read about third capital. It has in it many distinguished inventors of electrical conveniences.

Fourth Capital: In how many days can every one display their satisfaction with this and their satisfaction. . . .

Composer Thomson is 33, a native of Kansas City who was educated at Harvard and has lived since 1925 in Paris. His purpose in choosing a text done in Gertrude Stein's way was, he says, to concentrate all attention on the linguistic problems by getting rid of all meaning.

Writer Stein is a doughty Pennsylvanian of 55 who has lived in Paris for 20 years, writing, experimenting, playing hostess to scores of queer artistic folk who, with herself, have made her salon famed. Among her books are Three Lives, The Making of Americans, Geography and Plays, A Birthday Book, As a Wife Has a Cow, Tender Buttons. Her letter head carries a figure like a fleur de Us and underneath "It's a rose, it's a rose, it's a rose." A large rose gob is her seal. She is a sister of Leo Stein, famed art critic, with whom she is not on speaking terms.