Wireless News

Press, Volume LXIX, Issue 20986, 14 October 1933, Page 6

Wireless News

NOXES FROM FAR AND NEAR

[By ARIEL.J

Quite a lot of things happened at Wellington last week that I was unable to find space for in my notes of last Saturday. I had a long talk with Mr Vickery, chairman of the Radio Broadcasting Board. Mr Vickery convincingly tried to convert me to that school of thought which believes that everything is beautiful in the realms of New Zealand broadcasting. ( And I tried to convert Mr Vickery to j the opposite school of thought. Neither of us was very successful. The studio engineer took me up to the transmitting station, situated in one of the highest, and definitely one of the most windy parts of Wellington. But transmitting stations are not extremely exciting. Some dynamos ran smoothly, some valves glowed, many condensers condensed, and transformers transformed. And outside this particular transmitting station the wind howled in a peculiarly vicious manner.

So I left the smoothily functioning apparatus, and descended in search of news and original programmes. I met Dante, the magician. I visited the zoo, with the idea of suggesting an outside broadcast of the animals. I met the principals of an Australian revue company at present touring the Dominion. And I saw a performance by the Wellington Repertory Society of the play "London Wall." And what were the results? The broadcasting of illusions— except by televisoin—is obviously very difficult. And the Wellington zoo is really a rather pathetic place. I saw an elephant with an enormous chain around one of its legs, swaying backwards and forwards in apparent abject misery. I saw an unhappy polar bear and several notices begging me not to feed it. I saw a few miscellaneous hens and ducks and rabbits. And i saw several glass Wonted cages m which were presumably hzards or sorts. I saw only one lizard behind these glass 'fronts, but counted fourteen magnificent specimens of the New Zealand blow-fly. The blow-flies seemed very much at home and appeared to enjoy living in the same cage as the lizards. And I saw two lions and a puma. Altogether, a broadcast of the Wellington zoo would neither be educative nor amusing. But the revue company offers endless possibilities of broadcasts. Headed by Jennie Benson, the famous English comedienne, and supported not only by Renee Riano and Charles Norman but two hundred tons of scenery and 50 artists, this company offers possibilities for broadcast engagements Which will be slightly different. Miss Benson has broadcast her songs, which are of that pleasantly intimate variety, on many occasions from the British broadcastug studios, and Mr Norman and Miss Riano also have broadcast many times in Australia and America. After seeing the show "Bright Side Up," and admiring the ballet, which performed the most amazing geometrical acrobatic convolutions, I dined the following day with Miss Benson and Mr Norman. Then I hurried round to the offices of the broadcasting board, and asked the acting-general manager "what about it?" Result: You will hear the artists from this company on several occasions. I am not sure when, but you will hear them. And now for "London Wall," as played by the Wellington Repertory \ Society. This Van Druten comedy played to a capacity house, and deservedly so. The play was admirably cast and the entire production • was extremely suave and unamateurish. The president of the Repertory Soiciety told me that his society would not be averse to broadcasting if approached by the board. I expect that the old difficulty of copyright would preclude the immediate broadcast of this play, but it is satisfactory to know that there are actors and actresses who are capable of broadcasting radio plays.

Radio Party. The other evening at a few minutes past nine, I tuned in to 2YA, and listened to the "Radio Party." This was a selection of recordings of some of the more famous British Broadcasting Corporation artists, combined to make a more or less coherent whole. An excellent performance. Henry Hall is the extremely gentlemanly exponent of "straight" dance music, and his orchestra headed the show. Then came our friend Gillie ( Potter, who has now joined a different recording company. He told us the truth about the 8.8.C. And the truth about the 8.8.C. is apparently that the vaudeville artists are atrociously underpaid. (I seem to have heard that complaint before.) Then came Flotsam and Jetsam, a very hot harpist, and numbers more of our very old friends. Altogether a very pleasant little party, which lasted for an hour. The same evening from 4YA there was a not unsatisfactory concert programme. The Bach Brandenburg Concerto No. 3; a piano recital by Mr Helmuth Hoffmann; and the Sorcerer's Apprentice, of Dukas, together made a glorious prelude to the later programme from 2YA. Every so often we get a programme which compensates.

Looking through the programmes for next week I can find nothing likely to set the Avon on Are. Tomorrow evening from Wellington we are to have the fourth movement of a Brahms quartet, the third movement of a Debussy quartet, and the third movement of a Grieg quartet. This is the kind of thing that annoys Ariel. If listeners will not listen to a complete quartet, they are extremely unlikely to listen to three isolated extracts from three different quartets. And so nobody is satisfied. As a matter of fact, I believe that we will find this malady will shortly bej remedied. In the near future, "Horsie] Keep Your Tail Up" will not have its tail in the middle of a Beethoven Concerto. And if even this is remedied, my visit to Wellington will not have been in vain. A Few Records. The sight of 37,000 records in the board's studios has quite fired my imagination. Let us suppose that at 10 o'clock on the first of November the announcer commenced playing these discs and played them for 12 hours a day. He would finish his task some time during the following October, and this would settle once and for all the vexed question of programmes. In other words, we have quite a lot of recorded music to choose from. And if any of my readers are mathematicians, I do beg of them not to check figures. By the way, here is a not new anecdote: A man and his wife were preparing to go to a symphony concert. The lady was trying on various frocks and various rings and various necklaces. This took a long, long time. Her husband was impatient. "Really, Maria," he expostulated, "I can not understand why you take so long a time getting prepared. All I have to do is to fix two pieces of cotton wool in my ears—and I'm ready."