is probable, indeed, that no man living will hear the symphonies and sonatas of that Gargantuan land. But toward it modern musical composition is ineluctably headed; and a nervous, slender, youthful, black-haired pianist is standing at the helm. Without waxing technical it is difficult to define even the elements of such a mysterious art. Roughly and untechnically, however, it may be categorically captured by calling it music founded on no scale because founded on a multitude of scales; music with no discords because, in the old-fashioned sense, completely and perpetually discordant.
Ferrucio Busoni, in 1911, hinted at such an astounding possibility. In a small brochure entitled A New Esthetic Of Music he confessed to a belief in the gradual disappearance, through elaboration, of the classical modes, and incidentally propounded the inquisitive theory that between C and C-sharp there would ultimately be recognized numerous authentic tones. The adoption of this latter heresy is obviously a long way off. Certain Indian tribes, it is true, are known to make use of a twenty-tone scale. But the modern, occidental ear, though capable of a great deal, is still powerless to conscript such subtle distinctions of sound with any success. C is C, and C-sharp is C-sharp; and any one who tries to step in between them is accused of thinking out of tune. The other idea which Busoni suggested, however, is not only a step toward the greater anarchy: it is a step that is in the actual course of being taken. Three hundred years ago the unprepared seventh chord
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was a suspect and a criminal. To-day it is as dignified and harmless as the National-Anthem. To-day, in fact, such a chord as this:
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