Musical Education of the Blind of France

Author's Note—Since my return from the International Conference on Braille Music, which was held in Paris in the spring of 1929, there has been no time or occasion to develop the notes which I made under the general caption “Observations in Foreign Institutions.” A year and a half may play havoc with memory, yet I have left to draw from, an abundance of vivid impressions, thanks to the interest and courtesy shown me by the various authorities of institutions which I visited. Before leaving for Europe I was advised not to “waste all my time in work,” but to “see the world while the chance offered itself.” Happily, however, I concluded that to sightsee with a definite and useful purpose in mind—namely, to visit as many schools for the blind as possible—would mean that incidentally I should see quite enough of the world in general. This proved to be true, for it took me into places in France, Germany, and England which otherwise I should never have enjoyed in quite the same way. It was well, too, that I traveled alone, for I was always at my own command. Being without sight and without a practical knowledge of French, I was fortunate enough to find an attendant and interpreter in Paris, a congenial and intelligent young fellow, whom I employed full time and took with me into Germany and England. He was a professional guide for tourists and knew a great deal about the life, art, and history of Paris, so that the eighteen days spent in the French metropolis with him were exceptionally interesting. Also, M. Raverat, the Secretary-General of the American Braille Press, who is the founder and editor of the Musical Review for the Blind and who was the promoter and host of the Conference, prepared a number of fine treats for the delegates. We heard the glorious music of the opera Pelleas et Melisande by Debussy in the Opéra Comique, and we went on a pilgrimage to the village of Coupvray beyond the Marne, where Louis Braille was born. One evening after the Conference I was included in a small party which our host took to a fashionable drawing-room lecture where, before a select gathering of philanthropic laymen, a young man explained in glowing terms his new invention by which the blind of all the earth henceforth might draw their own portrait and feel how they look. The lecturer had me take a soft lead wire and shape it to the curves of my forehead, nose, lips, and chin, and then place the unshapely wire on a piece of heavy paper over a pad and perforate the outline with a stylus. There were many other experiences which, however interesting they may have been to me, have no place in these pages. No occasion was lost to discuss with delegates from other countries the conditions and problems of work for the blind in their respective lands. From suggestions thus derived it was possible to use to the best advantage the scant time left me to visit representative institutions before re-embarking. Of course, my observations were always directed chiefly to musical matters. In a series of three articles I shall describe what I saw, first in France, then in Germany, and finally in England.