cities, much of Gainesville’s best musicrnis played by bands—like Doldrums, JustrnDemigods, the Jeffersons, What AnnernLikes—that exist for a moment in timernfor their community and then disappear.rnTheir music, however, survives in thernmemories of the people who were there.rnThe best rock functions as a personalrnand local form of capitalism, living orrndying either by its own stubborn will tornexist or by its ability to win the attentionrnand affection of an audience thatrnintersects personally, artistically, and perhapsrneconomically with the performers.rnBut unlike the average capitalist venture,rnit doesn’t need and doesn’t always intendrnto make a profit at all. For the Darwinianrnlaws of the marketplace servernrock as they serve no other art form, providingrnecological niches both for dinosaursrnlike U2 and Guns n’ Roses andrnfor small, wily mammals like the labelsrnand bands discussed above. And thisrnmarketplace produces a genuine folk artrnstill in touch with the lives, demands,rnand interests of an audience that lovesrnand is willing to support the music withrnits own cash (whether paying admissionrnto a club or buying a tape or a record) orrnjust with attention (when cramming intorna house party).rnFederal arts funding creates contemptrnfor the audience-driven value of communication.rnArt funded by coercionrndoesn’t have to appeal to any genuinernhuman need, especially when even thernpossibly beneficial enlightened patronagernof one person with taste and vision isrnreplaced by elite cliques more concernedrnwith fashion and position than withrnachievement. “Modern art”—federallyrnsupported—speaks by design to no onernoutside a self-satisfied, self-involvedrnmetropolitan elite surviving on all of ourrndimes.rnPaglia’s op-ed was headlined “EndangeredrnRock.” Rock is doing just fine,rnthank you. It is art, which already suffersrnfederal largess, that should worrv aboutrndisappearing. Indeed, for most Americansrnit alreadv doesn’t exist.rnBrian Doherty writes from Washington,rnD.C.rnThe New MusicalrnOrderrnhyJ.O. TaternThe Recorded ViolinrnIn order to recycle the familiar repertory,rnthe music industry must seekrnnew markets through various gimmicks:rncelebrity status, special occasions, andrneven styles more familiar on the streetrnthan in the salon. Nigel Kennedy, thernvoung English violinist, has recentlyrnmade a hit of the Brahms Violin Concertornnot because of his impressive skillrnand interesting interpretation, but becausernof his mondo hizarro image on hisrnalbum cover. Gidon Kremer, older andrnmore sophisticated, has long cultivatedrnan eecentricit- that is no pose, but ratherrnthe mark of a distinctive musical integrity.rnAt the opposite extreme, evenrnMidori’s eloyingly sweet interviews andrnchina-doll persona have not masked herrnvirtuosity on the violin. But such remarkablernindividuals are quite exceptionalrnin an international musical cul-rnLET US KNOW BEFORE ‘OU GO !rnTo assure uninterrupted delivery of CHRONICLES please notify us in advanee. Send changernof address on this form with the maihng label from your latest issue of CHRONICLES to:rnSubscription Department, CHRONICLES, P. O. Box 800, Mount Morns, Illinois 61054rnture in which national as well as personalrndistinctions have been “blanded out”rnor processed into mush by the musicalrnanalogue of “global democracy” or thern”New Worid Order.”rnEven the compact disc itself may bernviewed as a hugely successful marketingrnploy, necessitating somehow the duplicationrnof a great deal of repertory if notrnof performing artists. What TheodorrnAdorno would say about it is only toornobvious. But just as new generations ofrnperformers continue to converge in thernmiddle of the road, the compact discrnhas become the vehicle for the revivalrnof many a 78. What’s old is new. An elementrnof genuine individuality is restored,rnand the violin is redeemed just asrnthe world before the Second and evenrnthe First World War is restored to us,rnrepackaged and digitized and more necessaryrnthan ever.rnThe great names reappear on variousrnlabels: Jascha Heifetz on BMG/RCA;rnMiseha Elman on Pearl and Vanguard;rnFritz Krcisler on Pearl and Music andrnArts; Sir Yehudi Menuhin on EMI andrnBiddulph; Jacques Thibaud on thernsame; Bronislaw Huberman on Peari andrnEMI; Joseph Szigeti on Pearl, Biddulph,rnand Vanguard; and others on other labels.rnThe pursuit of each giant is a projectrn—and an education—in itself, itsrnown reward. But the long shadows castrnby such heroic careers are in a sense distortingrnbecause they tend to restrict ourrnsense of musical perspective to whatrnmay be merely idiosyncratic. A broaderrnsense of musical style may be gained b-rnattending to wider horizons.rnAs far as the violin is concerned, thosernhorizons can be scanned today in an anthologyrnthat surveys the wodd of the violinrnfrom 1901 to 1939: The RecordedrnViolin: The History of the Violin onrnRecord, Volumes I & II (three CDs each,rnPearl BVA I & II, imported by KOCHrnInternational). The 110 items includedrnon these six discs add up to over sevenrnhours of playing time—time rescuedrnfrom oblivion and intensified by revelationsrnof beauty from lost worlds.rnIn this collection, the background ofrngreat careers is filled in. Perspective isrnsupplied by the firm establishment of arnbroad view and historical sense, so thatrnthe modernizing brilliance of JascharnHeifetz—to take but one salient examplern—is not scanted but rather set firmlyrnin context, with Heifetz representedrnsolely by his 1917 recording of HenrirnWieniawski’s Scherzo-tarantella. Such arn48/CHRONICLESrnrnrn