174 With Feet to the Earth 



be understood by them, not by the in- 

 tellect. A temple of music what a glo- 

 rious heritage that had been ! A tem- 

 ple, grand, gothic, half dark, free from 

 garish color and glaring gaseliers, a holy 

 place where the advance agent cometh not, 

 where prime donne do not hate each other, 

 where managers neither bilk nor vaunt, 

 where men may meditate and purify theiru 

 selves ; a temple where art is worshipped, 

 not consciously, but where the best of 

 itself leaves its impress of blessing on the 

 receptive soul. We want a concert hall 

 where emotions can be felt without pub- 

 licity. Bare, squalid places, like our sea- 

 side pavilions, are aesthetically impossible. 

 You can't thrill with "the ride of the valkyr- 

 ies" nor weep for "Death and the Maiden" 

 (unless they play it so badly) in these dusty, 

 sun-dizened barns. European beach-chairs 

 might be good things in halls where the 

 music does not fit, because in them you are 

 in a sort of private box and can shrink from 

 the staring, over-dressed multitude and 

 put your mind on the orchestra. Color, 

 too, how large a part that might play ! 



