Fifty Years of Music

When Christchurch Was Very Young
By H.M. Lund

Looking backwards, one’s long years shrink mercifully. I can hardly believe it is 50 years since I walked desolately up town, from the old railway station through rows of weather-worn shanties composing Madras street. In its inner area the town has not changed greatly save for better buildings and the finished Cathedral. Ballantyne’s and Strange’s were even then the Meccas of the ladies. Landing in Auckland I proposed to investigate in each centre my prospects for a professional career. Auckland was stricken by the aftermath of one of its periodical gold-gambles; Wellington housed an apparently unprofitable congregation of Civil Servants. As I sat that first morning at a piano in Spensley’s music shop, in walked Sir Julius von Haast and decided there and then that I was to remain in Christchurch. I was hardly consulted in the matter, but I meekly obeyed.

It would be unjust to say that Christchurch in those days lived in its musical infancy. An active Harmonic Society did very fair work, producing standard oratorios and cantatas. Mr. Robert Parker was the leading musician and conductor. Commanded by the indefatigable Major Lean, who even copied the band-parts himself, a rough and ready group of instrumentalists assiduously delivered fierce music at odd times but counted also some very good players as members. But the most active force in advancing musical culture was to be found in a circle of influential families: the Harpers, Loughnans, Marshmans, Haasts, and Inglises, to name only a few. That reminds me that Mr. H.H. Loughnan is probably the only amateur musician who has carried his ‘cello into every orchestral combine requiring service, from then to the present day, more than 50 years. Some names, like Bunz, father and his gifted son, Alfred, and the Bonnington descendants still are always before us. Among the early singers held in high esteem may be mentioned Miss Ada Taylor, Mr. W. Izard, Mr. Appleby, and the father of our Mr. H.S. Hobbs, now equally appreciated. The Rowleys, of whom Mrs. Forrester is one, were a family of singers all, and a power in the land.

In fairly close succession afterwards arrived a number of very able musicians, Mr. H. Wells, Mr. G. F. Tendall, Mr. Davis Hunt, and Mr. F. M. Wallace. With the Cathedral services under Mr. Wells and Mr. Tendall church music moved to a higher plane: under Wallace’s skilful direction the Orchestral Society achieved astounding progress. The very first concert presenting a Haydn Symphony was a revelation of what can be done even with budding amateurs. Mr. Wells brought out some good vocalists like Mr. Puschell and Mr. A. L. Joseph and certainly laid the foundation to Mr. Sidney Williamson’s subsequent artistic prominence. For many years past Mr. George March has figured among our best baritones. It still amuses me to recall the denunciation hurled at me when I used to give frequent recitals, “He wants to ram his classical music down our throats.” All the same, I proceeded with the ramming.

Teaching for some years involved hard labour to the breakdown point: later on with the increase of qualified teachers, and the influence of the examining bodies from Home, a fair standard could be maintained.

Visiting artists came to us not in great numbers, but of a very high type. Among them may be noted Wilhelmj, the violinist of unrivalled tone power; Vogrich, a capricious but exquisite pianist; Santley, the famous baritone, and Madame Patey, a wonderful contralto. Several opera companies brought variety and enjoyment, including the Simonsens and a German troupe giving chiefly Wagner operas. Some New Zealanders also returned form study abroad, proving their success, like Mr. Sydney Hoben.

Confining myself to the earlier decades, I grieve to say that of all the gifted musicians of that period only a few are still alive and active: Mr. Robert Parker in Wellington, and Messrs A. J. Merton and Davis Hunt here. Dr. Bradshaw, with his 25 years’ residence, and Mr. Firth, Mr. Worsley, and Mr. Gunter, with much less, must be still regarded as new chums.

Some humours experiences may yet be added. When the fleet anchoring in the Timaru roadstead was wrecked, I organised a concert in aid of the sailors. It seemed appropriate to ask for their contribution of some sea-chanties by their reputed singers. Such screeching, groaning, and shouting as it resulted in was never heard before. Another disaster in very truth it proved for many of the audience decamped.

Another laughable incident. Conducting an orchestral practice down south, I pointed out, most politely to be sure, that the brasses drawn from a prize band were apt to drown the rest of the body. Nothing was said, but suddenly at the concert these miscreants burst out in a perfect orgy of blast. Furiously I knocked over the nearest desk with my baton, the conspirators were cowed, and the situation was saved.

After all, a musician’s life has its compensations – sometimes.

The Press, Christchurch, 15 August, 1927
Image: Corner of Cashel (L) and High (R) Streets c.1800. Spensley & Co is visible middle left. Christchurch City Libraries Heritage Collection