A CRITIC'S LETTER

Press, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22201, 18 September 1937, Page 10

A CRITIC'S LETTER

(By LISTENER.! One of the pleasures of writ in," this column. apart, of course, from the conBiderable one of getting a modest pecuniary return for the labour, is the fact that it has brought me into touch with many correspondents generous enough—or misguided enough—to endorse the views I express in it. On the whole, though, it is not for one’s good to be agreed with all the time. For that reason lam inclined to give as warm a welcome to a critic who takes me up on a point, as I give to one who is so kind as to send me a little message of "bravo" through the post. There is a man who has .written to me before, and now he has written again. As he wishes to be "completely anonymous,” I shall say nothing to expose him. but I am grateful to him because what he has written is well worth discussion. Perhaps it will be just as well to lot him speak lor himself. Here is part of his letter: "Some time ago you invited your readers to send in a few of their pet radio aversions. You had, anparemly, the usual replies: The Jap, Eb, crooners, and so on. This was only to be expected. But why do these who write to you suffer these tortures when it is so easy to turn a knob? I think that if you invited opinions regarding what people liked, and supposing you had 100 replies, you could easily arrange those replies so that tho items would look like tho programmes contained in a current issue of the TRadlo Record.’ “In my last letter I accused you of being highbrow; perhaps I did not make myself clear. I certainly did not wish to infer that you are musty (your writings have the tang of fresh air-about them). What I did mean is that there is a demand for cheap stuff over the air, and you refuse to concede to that demand. Here is an instance: writing of the new station at Wellington, you mention with some contempt, the ‘tinsel gaiety.’ and the ‘cheap’ friendliness of the announcers, and you, like many others, predict that it will soon pall on the listeners. “During the depression I attended a class of aspiring young businessmen —although I wasn’t one—and when the big chain stores opened their doors to throngs of customers you should have heard the expressions of contempt among those future Carnegics. “ ‘lt's cheap and nasty.’ said one. ‘lt’s only the slump.’ said another. “'Wait till the good times come people won't be seen in those shops,’ cried a third. “So it is with the ‘tinsel' of Wellington. I know many people who are just thrilled when they hear an announcer speaking in an ordinary conversational tone. Perhaps the national stations have helped to create a demand for this by their repression. “Some years ago. when I was going to sea, and not married, I found myself with an evening to spend quite alone. So I sauntered along past the Grand Hotel in Dunedin, and my inquiring glance met that of a demure girl with nice ankles and pansy blue eyes. After the usual skirmish I suggested a trip to Fuller’s. Shortly after the interval I found myself listening to

a hard-luck story: just a matter of three pounds would get my friend out of a terrible mess. 1 confess I felt sorry for the girl and found myself thinking that I would come to light. Just then Jim Gerald came on dressed up as a vamp, and he sang a song called 'Sob StufT Susie.' He described my companion's plight so well that I had grave suspicions of her sincerity. My three pounds stayed where it was. and afterwards I had amnio evidence that I was justified in being sceptical. "Now. that little foolery of 'yours about Uncle Ephraim may serve just as useful a nurpose to the sentimental public as Jim Gerald's song did to a sentimental sailor, although there is intention behind your tale that was not present in the son^." There is really nothing to dispute in that part of the- letter: I know as well as anybody that there is a substantial public appetite for the cheaper kind cf items on the programmes of the national and other stations, r can own to getting my bit of fun from Sandy Powell and Clapham and ! Dwyer. and even a few others as well: but I fall into a state of apoplectic fury when some of the other popular [ items are broadcast. I cannot be I soothed by the retort that it is not necessary for me to listen to these nauseating efforts. It is true that I have only to turn the knob and the cause of my anger will be shut out: but as r. radio critic my purpose in life is not to thing of my own comfort. I want to improve New Zealand's radio standards, and I suppose I stand in the same stall as the Director of Broadcasting. He has said that he is going to give the public the best kind of each form of entertainment. I know j that everybody has a taste for comedy. ; I agree, then, that the public should ; have the best kind of comedy. Lately j an importc-d comedian has been tour- : ing the national stations. He was stilted, artificer), conventional, and although he may have been excruciatingly funny, I did not think so. Perhaps my sense of humour is at fault, but I can say that I'm not like Henry 11, or whoever it was who "never smiled again," for I have had the pleasure and the embarrassment of almost busting my bu + tons when seeing and hearing the Western Brothers and Ronald Frankau. And. in passing. I give this gratuitous advice to the National Broadcasting Service. They should write to Ronald Frankau asking him if he would like a sea trip. He has already beten as far afield as South Africa, and he would be the greatest radio draw this country has ever had. Certainly his bland face, which too often masks some diverting naughtiness, is among his great stage assets, but the work he could do (it would have to be censored a little) would be perfect fcr broadcasting, and even my friendly correspondent would have to admit that there is nothing highbrow in a taste for Frankau. However, the main argument I am to have with my correspondent is not based on this first part of the letter. He is more interested in talks than the

other radio features, and he has criticised some of the comments I made on this subject last week. "Everything you say about talks is perfectly true," he wrote. "I am unable to listen to a certain speaker from 2YA. He angers me now, but a year ago I would not miss him for anything. It appears to me, though, that you have hit upon a solution rather too easily, and after reading your opinions very carefully, I must say that I disagree with you on these j points." Then he continues: You suggest that the stations have on hand a group of trained talkers so that you. or anybody else, could prepare a talk and they would put it ! through the microphone. I feel sure that half the pleasure of listening to a talk is in the knowledge that the speaker has seen and done the things he talks about: that one is listening ; to a person who has seen and done \ something, whether he has played fullI back for New Zealand or been to the South Pole. Even an ordinary semitechnical talk, say. "Past Trials in the Supreme Court of China," seems all the better if it is given by a judge or a barrister, or even by the man who washes the steps of the building. Supposing I prepared a t;lk about ships and sailors, and then it was corrected by Mr Alan Mulgan, and delivered by Mr Howard Marshall, don't you think I that the personality oi the writer, the real sailor, would be submerged? Well, when it is put to me in that way, I must confess that this second or third-hand method of retailing a story is probably far from perfect. Yet there is an answer. Few of the talkers regularly on the air in New Zealand have a personality, which expresses itself at the microphone, and as far as I can see, the National Broadcasting Service has not yet found a way of encouraging radio personalities to develop. From his letter. I can see that my correspondent has an original point-of-view. and his modest professions to the contrary, he has an individual and effective manner of expressing himself. It may be, too. that he has a good radio X'oice; but I am pretty sure that the National Broadcasting Service would not allow him to speak as he would like to speak, and if he did not speak in the manner natural to him, he would not be able to put his personality through the microphone. Possibly my suggestion that there should be a band of trained radio speakers to deliver talks prepared for them is not ideal, but I can see in it the beginning of a serious attempt to eliminate the present cause of the unpopularity of radio talks. The National Broadcasting Service has already announced publicly that it would like to have brighter talks; speakers are told that there is no reason why they should not be decorously humorous. Nevertheless, I am certain that a genuinely humorous talk by a New Zealander would not be broadcast from any one of the YA stations. The official idea of humour is bound to be rather academic, and a joke would need to be fairly "shy and self-effacing to get by. In summarising my case again, I can only say that some means of improving talks is necessary, and one step forward would be the training of people who could deliver them in such a way that listeners would be attracted by them, not repelled as they are at present. If the National Broadcasting Service had my trained band

of talkers, it is possible that others would learn from them, and in a year or two .the standard of New Zealand talks could become, perhaps, an example to the rest of the world.