To study the various artistic movements within the corpus of Argentine music, with all its various branches, makes the critic think immediately of an immense, varied and many-coloured carpet. The pattern, revealing surprises at every turn, is apparently made up of the most disparate strands: not only natural and artificial silk of different colours, but also threads of different materials—wool, cotton and even string (modest enough but tough), worked in irregularly, making bizarre designs. To explain it, if I may follow up the metaphor, let us seize on an Ariadne's thread so as not to get lost in this present-day labyrinth of diverse schools and personal tastes which make up the country's national music.

A. T. Gretchaninoff's work as a composer embraces all branches of music. In opera, in symphony, in chamber music and in liturgical music, Gretchaninoff has created inspired and profound works which have enriched Russian musical literature. But perhaps the most deeply felt and original of his compositions are in the field of song. His subtle knowledge of the potentialities of the human voice, and the extraordinarily beautiful piano accompaniment, which never intrudes but always gives expressive illustration to the text, make his romances and songs unsurpassed in the vocal literature of Russia and, indeed, of the rest of the world. Many of his songs long ago became popular both in Russia and in other countries. Thus, at the beginning of this century there was no important singer in Russia whose repertory did not include Gretchaninoff's songs. More than that, they spread among the mass of the people and became a part of its heritage. In every home where there was an interest in music or song, one heard the famous Berceuse (Op. 1, No. 5), Quand la hache tombe (Op. 1, No. 2), Triste est la steppe (Op. 5, No. 1), and many Other songs written by Gretchaninoff in his youth. It may be said that Gretchaninoff's songs were as popular in Russia at that time as Schubert's or Schumann's are in Germany. Subsequently these songs spread to Western Europe and America as well. The songs of Gretchaninoff's early period gained wide popularity, being most easily understood by the wide public. But the most musically valuable and the most mature and inspired of his songs remained relatively less well-known. And yet it is precisely in these songs that the composer's individuality and musical inspiration attained their full stature.

In his presidential lecture to the English Association Mr. A. L. Rowse consoled his audience by the remark that if “writing is not at a high peak at the moment, English painting is enjoying a more creative period than it has since the eighteenth century, and English music than at any time since the Elizabethans.” I am not competent to discuss this optimistic view about English painting, but I certainly do not share Mr. Rowse's opinion of contemporary English music—and I take it that by “contemporary” he means music by composers not writing in a style or idiom of yesterday or the day before.

To make the point that Britten throughout his vocal works shows an astonishing mastery of words, and an extraordinary capacity for putting them to musical use, would be to labour the obvious and accepted. No one doubts his capabilities in this direction, and his operas and song-cycles are full of examples the apt beauty of which defy analysis; unless they are first felt by the listener they might as well go verbally unremarked and unrecognised. Nevertheless the Wedding Anthem, Op. 45, happens to provide a remarkable instance of Britten's understanding of the musical possibilities offered by the poetic image, an example the significance of which can be made clear by brief analysis and which may prove to be a useful guide when considering like aspects of Britten's style.

The idea of young people working as a team, whether through sport, art or music is always of the greatest value, for it helps to produce concentration, “give and take”, and infectious enthusiasm. It was with this in mind that the London Schools Symphony Orchestra was formed.

For more than six years London school children have listened to orchestral music—sponsored by the London County Council—played by the London Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted by myself. They have also had the opportunity of learning orchestral instruments, often free of charge and on loan, in their own schools.

Adelina Patti had made her last appearance at the Royal Opera in 1895, and her place as prima donna was taken by Nellie Melba. But Melba, although her voice was of incomparable beauty, lacked that touch of fire which a singer must have, if she is to capture the imagination of her audience; and for twelve years the throne of the Diva was vacant. Then, during the autumn of 1907, a new star of the most amazing brilliance appeared, quite unheralded.