Fanfare Letters

New releases of music for band or wind ensemble by American composers have been reviewed regularly in these pages. Often these reviews have touched upon the considerable importance of wind music in certain segments of our musical culture, despite its relative insignificance in other quarters. Critic Walter Simmons recently received a letter from Alfred Reed, Professor of Music at the University of Miami; and one of America's leading composers of music for band, in response to a review of Reed's works. Although Mr. Simmons' review appeared some time ago (II:3, pp. 91-92), we feel that the questions raised by Prof Reed, and their implications, have currency and general interest. We have therefore decided to print substantial portions of this letter.

. . . You have raised certain issues and questions that I would dearly love to see argued in print--and as publicly as possible. For instance, in the review of my Golden Crest recording you state: "The aesthetico-sociological aspects of American band music and the composers who write it comprise one more fascinating chapter in the denigration and neglect of our own serious musical culture." I could not agree more, although perhaps not from precisely the same point of view. This prompts me to suggest to you that it is the "band" (using the word generically, to include such diverse terms as "concert band," "symphonic band," "wind ensemble," "wind orchestra," etc.), rather than the traditional orchestra, that today provides the most widespread opportunities in the field of large-scale ensemble performance for both composers and performers in the country, and that this must, of necessity, be one of the strongest (if not the strongest) factors in the generating of both repertoire and audiences for the future. After all, consider that there are only about 1,400 orchestras in the country (including all high school, junior high school, college, and community groups--most of which cannot really perform too much of the standard repertoire too well) as against some 25,000 "bands" of every shape and size--some of whom don't do too well, either! Still, the disparity in numbers is formidable--particularly since it is here, I do believe, that despite the availability of fine recordings and playback equipment for listening to the standard orchestral and chamber-music works, the taste of a major portion of the next generation of listeners/supporters/audience in the area of large-scale ensemble music is being formed. Therefore, to refer to this area, as you did in the review, as a "segregated musical subculture," is to raise a question of real moment indeed . . .

I am certain you will agree when I say that, to the composer, a piece of music not performed might just as well not be written . . . Performance is the name of the game; it has never been any different, is not today, and will not be tomorrow. Regardless of the length of hair of the work (if I may so put it), it is performance, again and again, and consequent acceptance (or rejection) of the work by the widest possible audience time and time again that ultimately counts in the final value judgment of the composer and the music, whether it is Beethoven or Berlin--at least in this country. Regardless of how any one of us feels about it, we have to be prepared to look this question squarely in the face and, in turn, face up to the only possible answer in a supposedly free, competitive society: If you are going to give people the right (among other rights) to read, see, and listen to what they please, are you prepared to put up with what they freely choose if what they choose does not happen to agree with your own taste and judgment?

For myself, as a composer, it is somewhat ironic that I, who received the most stringent, classical upbringing (musically), to whom the "band" didn't even exist prior to my receiving a letter from Uncle Sam beginning, "Greetings!" . . . have become one of the leading contemporary composers of band music, with over 50 commissions to date and more on the way, and with more invitations to conduct my own music than I can possibly accept. . . .

No one knows better than I . . . that there are many mediocre talents, and even no-talents, on the conductor's stand (and at the writing desk), and whether it is the New York Philharmonic or the Podunk Junior High School Band, the whole validity of what is being done, musically, artistically, aesthetically, and otherwise, all hinges on the conductor's taste and ability. . . . But we must carry on despite all this and do our thing to the best of our ability, instead of sitting around and waiting for the millennium (which, especially in musical matters, seems to have a habit of never showing up) or wasting precious time and energy in decrying the state of things and trying to influence the audience by exhortation rather than example.

So, what it comes down to, for me, at any rate, is that the opportunities for performances of large-scale instrumental ensemble music on a continuing basis lie with the wind orchestra rather than the traditional orchestra, and that from every other point of view: meeting audiences (especially the younger audiences who are the audiences of the future), publications, recordings, etc., any composer alive today who is either ignorant of this, or, having been made aware of this denies it on the grounds that it doesn't matter what those local yokels out there in the hinterlands are doing, is very effectively drawing a very sharp knife across his own throat, certainly in this country, even if every one of his works gets its three performances by the Boston Symphony or the New York Philharmonic. Strongly put, perhaps, but true to life and consistent with what is actually happening in this huge country.

All of which brings me to, if I may, one of the five other works on the Crest recording that you characterized as "pretty pedestrian affairs (that) often verge on the idioms of the military march or the commercial arrangement," A Festival Prelude. This has turned out to be one of the most frequently performed pieces in the entire modern repertoire (it has sold, according to my royalty statements from the publisher, over 12,000 sets to date, and with each set accounting for an average of seven performances, which is the accepted figure among publishing firms as a basis for such computations, has had well over 80,000 performances in the 19 years of its published life thus far) and has even been transcribed for orchestra, in which form it is also becoming a best-seller in sales and performances. This raises a fascinating point. Is a work to be down-rated just because it is almost entirely tonal in conception and has strong melodic lines? I think you will find that the workmanship and handling of materials in this score are on a par with that of the Second Symphony, and that the only real differences between them are the length, and therefore general structural organization of the textures, and the fact that the Symphony is so largely non-tonal. I do, of course, defend to the death your absolute right not to be impressed with anything that I or any other composer may write, but supposing that I myself were to agree with you, that compared to the Second Symphony, A Festival Prelude is of comparatively negligible musical value, what is there to be said? Perhaps what George Bernard Shaw said when he was called to the stage at the conclusion of the premiere performance of one of his early plays, and amid the general applause there was one loud and insistent "boo." Shaw turned towards the source of this dissatisfaction and called out, "My dear fellow, I quite agree with you, but what are we two against so many?" But on the other hand, did not Beethoven once say, "Vox populi, vox Dei? That you will never get me to believe." All in all, a fascinating question: Whose voice counts for what in such matters? Do I know, even for myself? But I am trying to find out, all the time.

. . . Need I add that none of the above is to be taken as an attack on your position or on yourself, but merely as a hopeful stimulus towards continuing examination of what has to be a crucial matter in the development of so-called serious music and audience generation in our time. Princes, kings, emperors, and, today, even government bodies and foundations cannot, in a free society, ever take the place of the audience. I would not wish to live and work in a society in which they ever do . . .

Dr. Alfred Reed
School of Music
University of Miami
Coral Gables, FL 33124

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