HERE AND THERE

With ROGER WIMBUSH

HONOURS

As briefly reported last month Her Majesty has made Desmond Shawe-Taylor a Commander of the British Empire, and readers of THE GRAMOPHONE will join those of the Sunday Times in congratulating one who has done so much to maintain and extend the standard of English criticism. Too few critics today have the opportunity of writing what on other pages is sometimes called a 'think piece', and nobody does this better than the contributor of the vocal quarterly review. Miss Heather Harper, also made CBE, has laboured heroically and joyfully on behalf of our composers and foresworn easier paths. Appointed OBE was Barry Tuckwell, not only a superb horn player (I refuse to call anybody a hornist), but as chairman of the LSO he bears the responsibility of inspiring one of the great ornaments of contemporary English society. As for Mr. Isidore Godfrey, also an OBE, nothing short of a dukedom could adequately reward anybody who has spent a lifetime, week in, week out, conducting a repertory of a dozen operas, and until recently with paltry resources. Looking at Pineapple Poll the other night at Covent Garden it struck me as odd that only in this arrangement has the music of Sullivan been heard at our Royal Opera. Because these beautifully composed works, however limited and however comique, are commercial that is no reason for not mounting an occasional gala d la F ledermaus. It is a poor argument for a subsidy to be the sole prerogative of works that people don't want to hear. Charles Mackcrras probably had a tougher job arranging early Verdi for The Lady and the Fool. Mercifully we have moved away from those ghastly ballets with names like telegraphic addresses (Choreartium!) based on symphonies. There was even one on the Fantastic Symphony. Berlioz, however destitute for his dinner, would never have done that no matter how much the gold.

VISITORS

London in June has always attracted the famous. What used to be 'the season' is now a time of festival and celebration, affecting the record companies no less than the rest of us. Not the least distinguished of our visitors this summer was Claudio Arrau, feted by Philips to mark the issue of his package deal of the Beethoven concertos. I think I am right in saying that Arrau's first English release was in August 1929. This was a Parlophooe record of Liszt's Fountains at the Villa d'Este, and I can only say that whenever I have been tempted to throw this out in favour of some more recent version it has always won It is indeed a superlative performance. In those days Arrau was recording Busoni, and I asked him this time whether there was a chance of the Concerto. He told me he had recently been looking through it again and was doubtful whether as a whole it would stand revival. He had known Busoni well and found him naturally a stimulating person. Since the death of Petri we are not getting as much of Busoni as we should, though John Ogdors valiantly included him in his very first record. The Concerto should certainly be in the catalogue as the extended work of one of the most fascinating minds in the history of music. Arrau has for long been admired, particularly on two counts; the extent of his repertory and his intellectual approach. Despite his current work in the classical field his interests remain wide and very much up to date. He hopes to play the Schoenberg Concerto in London, and. he would like to record the Opp. 11, 19 and 33 pieces. Of the younger pianists he admires Ingrid Haebler, who was the first to satisfy our reviewers in the Mozart concertos some ten years ago, and has high hopes of Daniel Barenboim. Another name, unknown as yet to our catalogue, is that of the young Frenchman Jean Barraquh. Arrau is sure that our modern generation of brilliant virtuosi makes a mistake in publicly tackling the great works when they are young, and it is interesting that his accompanying conductor in his Beethoven set is Bernard Haitink, who told me earlier this year that he hesitated to record the major classics until he was much older. Incidentally Arrau has the highest praise for Haitink's handling of the Concertgebouw for these recordings. As to Arrau's intellectualism, he would deny that this is exclusive, remembering the words of his teacher in Berlin, Martin Krauts, to the effect that the whole personality must go into performance, and this includes the emotions. Born in Chile in 1903 Arrau now lives in the United States, travels widely and has many friends in England. To come are the 32 sonatas, and after that perhaps we shall have some of the great romantic music with which he began his recording career; certainly his Islamey is still remembered.

Another great pianist in London at this time was Arturo Michelangeli, now fully recovered from illness and recording again. Whenever anybody records anything by Galuppi every reviewer is bound to mention Browning, but the player, as in this case, has probably never heard of the poet, shocking as this may appear to the English. He just likes the composer.

A tremendous 'occasion' was made of the visit by George SzelI and the Cleveland Orchestra. Somebody remarked it was a pity that Glasgow could not have been included in the orchestra's European itinerary, for in 1937 Szell was appointed to the Scottish National, an appointment that was only ended by the war. The orchestra had had a success with Gershwin in Russia, which sounds odd until we remember that Shura Cherkassky recorded the Piano Preludes. It was the Cleveland Orchestra's recording of William Walton's Second Symphony that earned high praise from the composer, and now they have recorded his Variations on a theme of Hindemith, appropriately coupled with Hindemith's Weber Variations. I understand that it was the coincidence of the orchestra's Visit with the London performances of Moses und Aaron that brought Sir William back to England again for a while. Another composer seen in London was Zoltán Kodaly, whose splendid head belies his 83 years.. This extraordinary man seems to have weathered all the storms of Hungarian politics and looked more relaxed than anybody at an Embassy reception.

OBITUARY

Erick Chisholm has died in SouthArica, where he held a teaching appointment. This is not a name to be found in the catalogue, but when we get a complete Trojans, which can only be a matter of time, Dr. Chisholm will have played some part in making it possible. Before the war he was something of a character in Glasgow where he conducted the Glasgow Grand Opera Society, an amateur body which in 1934 mounted the first British performances of The Trojans (including Borzoi hounds in the pantomime) at the old Theatre Royal, the two parts on alternate nights with a Saturday matinée and evening, thereby enabling Londoners to see it all in one day. By choosing the same Saturday as a football international, which meant a night excursion from Euston on the Friday at 29s. return, DS-T, Edward SackvilleWest (later Lord Sackville) and RW were thus able to see these performances for a 5s. seat and no hotel bills! So too did Sir Hamilton Harty, the greatest Berlioz conductor of his day (of all time?), Professor Dent and other enthusiasts from various parts of Britain. Les Troyens en Ecosse ran THE GRAMoPHoNE's headline. The following year Chisholm did Beatrice and Benedict and Benvsnulo Gel mi. Here too we got our money's worth, for since the former is short Chisholm added a one-acter by Schubert (another rarity in itself) and threw in the Fantastic Symphony as an interlude! Cohn Davis has already given us a magnificent Beatrice and we must hope that the other operas will follow soon.

Dead too is Herbert janssen, who was a kind of pre-war Fischer-Dieskau in that he was equally at home on the concert platform and in the opera house and brought the same sensitive musicianship to his performances. He recorded for the Wolf Society and will be remembered with affection by many. So, in a very different way, will Ernest Butcher, who with his wife, Muriel George, introduced English folksong to the music-halls, a seemingly impossible task, but it worked and even took them to the top of the bill. Now that they really are pulling down the Winter Garden Theatre in Drury Lane some of us recall what was perhaps his last stage appearance in The Water Gipsies, singing at the back of the stage with every word crystal clear at the back of the gallery. Though to my knowledge he did not record, there must also be many who will mourn Cyril Preedy, whose death is announced at the early age of 46. He was a pianist of distinction with a full engagement book. Lastly George Melachrino, with three golden discs to his name. These records were apparently tremendous sellers in America, where there is a huge market for mood LPs; far more so than here. By a strange coincidence his last collection, due for release soon, was already titled "Something to remember you by".

LORD SACKVILLE

Since writing the above, we must record the sad news of the death of Lord Sackville, better known to readers as Edward Sackville-West. Always a friend of THE GRAMOPHONE, for many years he contributed the Quarterly Review, and he was, of course, part author with Desmond Shawe-Taylor of The Record Guide. Although long out of date, The Guide remains a valuable book, not only for reference but as an astonishing insight into the work of composers. SackvilleWest was an amateur in the true sense and with the amateur's enthusiasm for all he undertook, notably in literature and music. He was a considerable pianist and had been a pupil of Irene Scharrer. He was 63.

GLAZUNOV

This is Glazunov's centenary month, and it will be surprising if anybody will do a thing about it! t Born with all the gifts, plenty of money, influence galore, perhaps the one man who was able to make the warring factions of Balakirev and Rubinstein agree about one thing—his own genius—he has become a kind of problem child of the contemporary scene. No one likes to write him off, and even the gramophone companies very occasionally revive a concerto. He produces in all of us an uncomfortable feeling of guilt. It is probably pure coincidence that the Current repertory of the New York City Ballet, now at Covent Garden, includes Raymonda. Did Brahms sap his vitality? Was it the Western influence? Certainly the men who stayed at home have done better by history. Across the Atlantic we have only to look at the reputation of Ives vis-a-vis Macdowell.

Last month we were thinking about the Salvation Army and I have just been listening to Ives's extraordinary song General William Booth enters into Heaven on an American import of chamber works and songs—fabulous! This is also the centenary month of King William the Fourth, "Silly Billy", and if anyone wonders why he should be dragged in here, it's one way of getting in a plug for Hook, whose delicious Willow Song was originally sung by Mrs. Jordan, the King's inamorata during all those years when he was the Duke of Clarence. This, the direct ancestor of Tit Willow in The Mikado, is included in April Cantelo's lovely record of eighteenth century English songs. The Intimate Opera Company also recorded his comic scena True Blue in the early days of LP. Now that Guildford is playing Lionel and Clarissa (Dibden, and doubtless arranged by RF) may we hope for a better recorded library of these worthies? Are we really to believe that if it is good business to issue record after record, month after month, of run-of-the-mill Italian string concertos, that the Avisons, Hooks and Shields of these Islands are not worth looking at? Hook reigned at Vauxhall for 46 years and is reputed to have written over 2,000 works. No one is going to suggest that much of this output is worth revival, but pro rata it need not be much less than Villa-Lobos. Hook's son became Dean of Westminster, and his grandson Dean of Chichester. One day we will learn how Handel helped his contemoraries in Georgian England.

LOOKING BACK

In his quarterly review for August 1924 the Editor remarked on a fruitful season with four complete symphonies and three chamber works. He referred to two singers, whom 40 years on we remember with affection—Olga Haley and Eric Marshall. I still treasure the former's Dido's Lament, sung with a fine Yorkshire accent. Calling Beethoven's Ninth "the greatest music the world has ever known", he had this to say about Thank God for a garden: "The words are drivel, the music is sickly, the singing is oily, and at the end I was less inclined to thank God for a gramophone than I ought to have been". Mr. Klein was writing about "Caro Nome" and "Ah! fors' è lui", and again plumping for GalliCurci. The first Art Supplement appeared, the subject being Chaliapine, whose life was sketched by the Russian singer Nicolai Nadejin, who was himself then recording for Velvet Face. The National Gramophonic Society was in process of formation and had got as far as hiring the Spencer Dyke Quartet. This Society, the child of THE GRAMOPHONE, was the first of the "Societies" and its aim was to record chamber works, which it did successfully for many years until the normal commercial output caught up. W. A. Chislett made an early appearance in these pages by carrying off the second prize in a competition for "the best 12 middle-priced records". Among reviews we find a recording of Hearts and Flowers, played- on the piano by Walter Chapman; another of those pieces that everybody knows, and nobody knows who wrote it. Well, it was by Tobani, and now who was he? "This dreadful piece of music" wrote the reviewer, yet it has lived on in every burlesque of the silent cinema. The violinist Marie Hall was recording a Valse Etude by Hoist, and that's news to me. On Vocalion was the Aeolian Orchestra conducted by Hyam Greenbaum, later to become BBC TV's first Musical Director and a familiar figure in London's theatre pits. An early example of the industry's educational work was Columbia's "Musician's and Music Lover's Guide" by Dr. R. Sterndale-Bennett of Uppingham. SterndaleBennett is a name rich in memories. Sir William was revered by the Victorians and admired by Schumann (he was the dedicatee of the Etudes Symphoniques), T.C. wrote Leanin' and other popular songs which he sang at good class schools and recorded for Columbia, and Joan is currently an ornament of the Late Joys. Hits were What'll I do?, Irving Berlin's waltz, and Does the spearmint lose its flavour on the bedpost overnight?—long titles are nothing new, but this must be an early example of getting the product across in song.

1066 AND ALL THAT

That was an interesting letter last month from Mr. W. J. Chadwick about Weber's Kampf und Sieg and its recording on the Urania label. Mr. Chadwick will be glad to know that no less a man than Strauss commemorated the Battle of Hastings in a work called Taillefer, also recorded by Urania. The sleeve-note of this record is worth quoting: "The ballad Taillefer, text by Ludwig Uhland, was composed for and dedicated to the Philosophic Faculty of Heidelberg University for the solemn inauguration of the City Hall, and first performed there on 26th October, 1903. The work is scored for three solo voices, mixed chorus and orchestra. Due to the character of the ballad—the battle of Hastings, with all its terrors, roars of cannons, rifle fire and other noises of battle Strauss required the largest orchestra known at the time of its first performance". I am indebted to this tit-bit to Flight-Lieutenant F. G. Hodges, who feels that the writer must have been confusing 1066 with 1812! He adds: "The work itself is great fun from the point of view of sheer sound and the soprano soloist is Maria Cebotari".

Obviously we must have a new recording next year, and even more obviously we must revise our views on ballistics!

A PUBLIC RECITAL

Public gramophone recitals are not unknown, nor is it rare for the trade to demonstrate its wares, but I doubt if since Gilbert Briggs's RFH demonstrations has one of London's concert halls been the scene of an invited judgment until Tillett and Holt Records collaborated with Decca in a public performance at the Wigmore Hall of extracts from the Decca Gotterd/immerung. This was introduced by the conductor and producer, supported by the company's engineering team. Moreover, not only were these gentlemen on the platform, but they invited questions and criticism. Apart from the total success of the exercise it was interesting to note the complete harmony between the conductor and the producer and the recording team. Of course gramophone records are made for domestic performance and there is always a feeling of some embarrassment in listening in such large numbers to disembodied music, however well reproduced. Mr. Culshaw himself was aware of the difficulties even in the matter of volume. Nevertheless it was a tremendous success and will have helped immeasurably to heighten an understanding among the public of what a major recording means in terms of money, artistic collaboration and musical integrity. Congratulations to all concerned.