The Coral Gables Times

We Go to Bat for Music!

The White House Press Secretary tells how he makes music as important in his children's lives as Little League baseball BY PIERRE SALINGER MUSIC MEANS SO MUCH TO ME, has been such an integral part of my life, that I sometimes find it difficult to believe that there are those who have not shared this joy. The vivid and happy memories of my youth revolve around music. I can still see Sergei Rachmaninoff, standing solemnly on the stage of the San Francisco Civic Auditorium, following a series of concerts in which he had played all of his piano concertos. He was stern and unsmiling, bowing stiffly in response to the audience's thunderous ovation. I remember my excitement at hearing George Gershwin play his "Rhapsody in Blue" and "Concerto in F" in the San Francisco Opera House, and my overwhelming happiness on being taken backstage to meet him. When Gershwin died at such an early age, I felt as though a loved member of my family had been taken from me. I recall the delightful moments of conversation with the great conductor Pierre Monteux following his San Francisco concerts. I called him "Papa Pierre" and he called me "Little Pierre." Behind that walrus-like mustache and the bushy eyebrows, his eyes twinkled and his expressive face revealed the emotion and understanding which he pours into his music. I can still see the staircase in my family's home, its walls lined with pictures of our famous guests: Pablo Casals, Enrico Caruso, Madame Schumann-Heink, Harold Bauer—musicians my father had brought to Salt Lake City when he took a brief fling at being an impresario. I remember the disbelief with which I first heard the composer Henry Cowell play one of his strange-sounding piano compositions. I winced as he brought his arms crashing down on the keyboard to create a musical effect, or leaned into the piano and plucked the strings with his fingers. Today, as I listen to records of Cowell music, they sound tame and almost classical. All this is to say that music can be a joy and a solace. It should be part of the fiber of life. I say "should be," because in too many American families it is not. We are a proud nation with a proud cultural heritage. But because we have had the facts of European culture drummed into us with such regularity and effectiveness, we tend to underplay—and even downgrade—our own. Worse than that: we have allowed the impression to grow that so-called "good" music is only for highbrows and intellectuals; that for young Americans to be practicing an instrument instead of playing Little League baseball is a demonstration of qualities which I can only describe as "un-red-blooded." And in this way, millions of our children miss out on something that could greatly enrich their lives. I am not advocating massive doses of good music for boys and girls. Nor do I wish to minimize what I consider a mighty contribution to music—American jazz. Our young people should come to appreciate the music played by Benny Goodman and Louis Armstrong or, in a more modern vein, Dave Brubeck. They will find they get more out of jazz if they have a solid foundation in classical music. Modern contrapuntal jazz is a direct throwback to Bach and Vivaldi, and enjoying the former can be greatly enhanced through an understanding of the latter. Now I would like to personalize all this by telling you what I am doing to bring music into my own children's lives. I consider them rather normal children. They like to play Little League baseball, and we have a tough time getting them to do their homework; they even, alas, like some of the worst of the current teen-age song hits. But in a kind of happy cooperative program we are giving them a foundation in good music by making music fun. TWO of my children play the piano—not well, but they enjoy it. My youngest boy plays the violin, and shows some talent. When I come home from work in the evening, we play good music on our record player. During dinner, we sometimes have contests, and the kids try to figure out in which period a piece of music was written, who wrote it and, in exceptional cases, the actual name of the composition. It's a fine game, and they're all making progress. We try to make concert-going a family project, and when my youngest son, Stephen, plays in a musical competition, we all try to get there to hear him and give him some moral support. When musician friends of mine come to town, we invite them over for supper and let the children sit in on the conversation. You cannot spend three or four hours listening to Isaac Stern talk about music, culture in general, and the great needs of our country in these fields, without a little bit rubbing off on you. We all watch Leonard Bernstein conduct the New York Philharmonic on television. This is taking good music, not in enormous doses, but in quantities that most young people can respond to. And I think the children will be the better for it. For music is a common thread that runs through lives all over the world. In a time of terrible strife, it can help to cut across the barriers that divide us. It is universal and it is unifying. One need only read the reports of the Eastman Rochester Orchestra after its recent tour of the Soviet Union. They were wildly received, everywhere they went. And the basic reason was the excellence of their music. When I was in Moscow, the young American pianist Byron Janis played a concert and was called back for 31 curtain calls! So let all of us—young and old—try to make music a more important part of our lives—not just to prove that we are "cultured," but because we will enjoy it. It will mean something to us. It will bring us happiness. It will bring us peace. And it will bring us a greater understanding of the artistic ties that bind all men together. From Mr. Salinger's introduction to "The Language of Music" by Stephanie Barach, copyright 1962 by Robert B. Luce, Inc., Washington, D.C., publisher After a busy day in the White House, Pierre Salinger reserves time for a music hour with his children in their suburban home near Alexandria, Virginia. WASHINGTON POST