It was rather a curious episode in
the history of the musical taste of Paris, and merits a few words here.
In every country, but especially in those countries that are least
musical, a virtuoso profits by public favour, often to the detriment of
the work he is performing; for what is most liked in music is the
musician. The virtuoso--whose importance must not be underrated, and who
is worthy of honour when he is a reverential and sympathetic interpreter
of genius--has too often taken a lamentable part, especially in Latin
countries, in the degrading of musical taste; for empty virtuosity makes
a desert of art. The fashion of inept fantasias and acrobatic
variations has, it is true, gone by; but of late years virtuosity has
returned in an offensive way, and, sheltering itself under the solemn
classical name of "concertos," it usurped a place of rather exaggerated
importance in symphony concerts, and especially in M. Chevillard's
concerts--a place which Lamoureux would never have given it. Then the
younger and more enthusiastic part of the public began to revolt; and
very soon, with perfect impartiality and quite indiscriminately, began
to hiss famous and obscure virtuosi alike in their performance of any
concerto, whether it was splendid or detestable. Nothing found favour
with them--neither the playing of Paderewski, nor the music of
Saint-Saens and the great masters. The management of the concerts went
its own way and tried in vain to put out the disturbers, and to forbid
them entry to the concert-room; and the battle went on for a long time,
and critics were drawn into it. But in spite of its ridiculous excesses,
and the barbarism of the methods by which the parterre expressed its
opinions, that quarrel is not without interest. It proved how a passion
and enthusiasm for music had been roused in France; and the passion,
though unjust in its expression, was more fruitful and of far greater
worth than indifference.

* * * * *

3. _The Schola Cantorum_

The Lamoureux Concerts had served their purpose, and, in their turn,
their heroic mission came to an end. They had forced Wagner on Paris;
and Paris, as always, had overshot the mark, and could swear by no one
but Wagner. French musicians were translating Gounod's or Massenet's
ideas into Wagner's style; Parisian critics repeated Wagner's theories
at random, whether they understood them or not--generally when they did
not understand them.