It is interesting to trace the steps by which Taylor advanced himself
to a position described by Dr. George Alexander, president of the
Council of New York University, as “one of the foremost of the living
composers.”
Deems Taylor is one of those rarest of residents of New York who was
actually born in that city. His arrival was dated just three days
before Christmas in the year 1885. He made his elementary studies
at the Ethical Culture School and graduated to New York University,
where his many-sided talents brought him a conspicuous participation
in under-graduate activities. The records do not show it, but one
takes it for granted that he penned the sketches which adorned the
year book of his class. Probably he also wrote the sonnet which a
distracted editor called for to fill half a page needed to complete
a folio. At fraternity smokers he could always be relied upon to
entertain; his inimitable burlesque on grand opera, using as his
“props” a varied assortment of straw and felt hats, was certain to
put the crowd in good humor.
The record does show, however, that in association with a class-mate,
William LeBaron, who in later years was responsible for the libretto
of _Apple Blossoms_, the farce, _The Very Idea_, and numerous other
plays, Taylor wrote the music for four comic operas during his
collegiate term. One of them, _The Echo_, was considered good enough
by Charles Dillingham, the theatrical producer, to merit a Broadway
presentation, in which Bessie McCoy was starred.
The innate desire for an adequate means of musical expression must
have reached its peak in the young man’s consciousness some five
years after his graduation from college, for it was at that period
that he undertook the serious study of harmony and counterpoint.
In the meantime he was struggling with the more serious problems
of life, trying to reconcile the meagre salary paid to budding
journalists with the ever-rising cost of living. One knows that this
storm and stress period did exist in his life; his own confessions,
however, furnish but inadequate data upon which to draw comparisons
with similar experiences in the biographies of other celebrated
composers. His journalistic lineage carries him through the
editorship of a house organ, a brief engagement as conductor of a
humorous column in the now defunct “New York Press,” the inevitable
period of unemployment (attendant to all newspaper careers);
assistant editorship of the “New York Tribune’s” Sunday magazine;
correspondent in France for the “Tribune,” in 1916 and 1917;
associate editor of “Collier’s Weekly” from 1917 until 1919; and
music critic of the New York “World” from 1921 to 1925. In August,
1927, he became editor of “Musical America.”
Whether from natural inclination or from pressure of circumstances,
the early studies he had made in harmony and counterpoint under Oscar
Coon were not logically followed by directed guidance in composition,
instrumentation, and other subjects, designed to prepare one for
the career of composer. His sole researches along these lines were
self-made. As a composer he is self-instructed, and it is the opinion
of reliable critics that he made an extremely good job of it. His
studies in musical history were sufficiently profound to equip him to
give a series of lectures on this subject in 1919 in Denver, Colo.
It was at this time that he formed a close friendship with Percy
Rector Stephens, the New York vocal instructor and then conductor of
the Schumann Club. Stephens had confidence in the Taylor talent and
lost no opportunity to promote the young man’s progress. The purpose
of the Schumann Club, it will be recalled, was to deliver programs
for women’s vocal ensemble that would follow as closely as possible
the canons dictating the structure of artist recital programs. To
achieve this laudable enterprise it was necessary to adapt the music
and render translated texts of an entire library for the club. Mr.
Taylor undertook the task with enthusiasm and the product of his
labors was among his first essays in musical-literary effort to court
serious critical attention.
The prize contest for composers, of which we have so many now-a-days
and which are so frequently condemned for their failures to produce a
National school of outstanding creative genius, seems, nevertheless
to find its associations in the biographies of the current class
of American composers. It was through this means, by winning the
first place in the National Federation of Music Clubs competition
in 1913, with his orchestral composition _The Siren Song_, that
Taylor attracted his first recognition as a serious writer in the
larger forms. Within three years he had added to his output, in
addition to numerous songs with piano accompaniment, _Two Studies in
Rhythm_ for piano (Op. 5, Nos. 1 and 2); _The Chambered Nautilus_
(Op. 7), a cantata for mixed chorus and orchestra based on the poem
of Oliver Wendell Holmes; _The Highwayman_ (Op. 8), a cantata for
women’s voices and orchestra, to the poem of Alfred Noyes; and a
song cycle, _The City of Joy_, to the poem by Charles Hanson Towne.
In _The Highwayman_, written especially for the MacDowell Festival
in Peterboro, N. H., in 1914, Taylor gave his first evidence of
that trait that was subsequently accepted as one of his native
characteristics, namely his ability to sense public taste. No student
of his record can escape consideration of this conspicuous talent
in his craft. _The Highwayman_ soon found its place among the most
popular works in this form in our current music literature and
the name and fame of Deems Taylor grew accordingly. He had raised
himself immeasurably from the file of dilettante composers, and
discriminating critics began to look to him for works of lasting
importance.
In this respect they were not to be disappointed. Early in 1917 there
came from his pen an orchestral work, which, through sheer interest
and merit forced itself into the repertoires of all of our leading
symphony organizations: _Through the Looking Glass_. The first
performance in New York proved an event of signal interest in the
news of the day and critics agreed that Taylor had fully lived up
to the promise which his earlier efforts had offered. Within a few
months orchestras in Paris and London had adopted the work, and thus
he won his first recognition among the few American writers who have
had performances abroad. The personal letters which Taylor received
from several of the greatest contemporary musicians both here and
abroad, on the strength of this music, may not be published; they
show, however, that he was now accepted by them as one of them. His
standing was secure.
Interrupting the output of works in the larger forms the record
shows numerous songs, many of which were taken up with avidity by
our leading concert singers and which will be discussed later from a
different angle.
_The Portrait of a Lady_, a rhapsody for strings, wind and the piano,
was the next of his more ambitious essays to win popular approval.