Craftsmen of song

Press, 27 August 1980, Page 19

Craftsmen of song

By

ALLAN FRANCIS

Craftsmanship, Malcolm McNeill believes, is everything. The great friendly hulky Biggies, his sheep dog, rubbed himself affectionately on his master’s leg in mute agreement, while Elsie, the silver tabby pushed herself into the limelight of attention in true diva style. His home Malcolm confessed smiling is a “lovely shambles.” The genial warmth of

Malcolm McNeill belies 1 a dedication to his chosen < profession; matched .only ’ by his strong views on . < singers and song-writers. < This is his life — and life to him is an apprentice- 1 ship; it is that vital factor < missing in so many writers 1 and their work. : . ■ You have seen him on- 1 “Stars on Sunday”, or- ; “Mainly. Mahoney,” or playing, the good shepherd to asthmatic choir boys (bless; you) with advice on the brand of tissues to use in church. Sometimes, if you are lucky, you have heard him on Radio N.Z. singing ballads which showcase his light tenor voice at its lyrical best. Malcolm McNeill, onetime member of the Mike Sammes Singers, has been back in New Zealand for some years ploughing that difficult row which is the unfortunate plight of all local artists, despite his popularity and the sheer excellent of his talent. His songs are no nineday wonders of the pop ■ world. In America the songs of Hoagy Carmichael Gershwin and Harry Warren have an immense following — the musically perfect “Stardust” and the like take a well-deserved slice .of the musical cake, but in N.Z. songs such as these win a lesser share of public interest. This is where Malcolm McNeill shines. The balladtype songs from the rich harvest of the 30’s and early 40’s are tailor-made for his style and consummate artistry. “Skylark,” is near the top in his book and did I remember the HiLos? and “Linger Awhile?” Even those rahter negative jumpy little songs such as “Hi Lili-Hi Lo” which sold like hot cakes . in 1950 are slowed down, given the velvet touch of McNeill and blossom forth reborn into transformed

Cinderellas in 1980. This is the essential McNeill. Born in Christchurch, he spent his early years preparing for the career that would surely follow; he wanted, more than anything to be an individual in an age where packaged deals were the norm — a perfectionist at a time when tons of sound counted more than talent — but still to follow the path of

the Harold Arlens and Jerome Kerns, who, in turn, were the polished products of .other masters of their craft. Music features quite largely in his leisure moments, though not excessively so. When we arrived Maria Callas was filling the house with some glorious arias. (Frederica von Stade is his current favourite) and he had a modest collection of records and a fascinating pictorial history of his past on a board tacked on one wall. He is interested in people and will gladly share his interests, and enthusiasm with any kindred spiirts. Malcolm NcNeill still considers himself an apprentice and accordingly continues lessons under his highly respected tutor, Mary Adams Taylor. In 1970 he went to Britain with the help of Peter Latham, where he spent six years with the Mike Sammes Singers, toured with Johnny Dankworth (there’s a photo of Cleo ■ Laine and Malcolm on the wall), and did Friday night stints with the Dudley Moore rhythm section in the Old Kent Road for ten pounds a night. Now he is about to make a lightning tour of America, preceded by a concert in the Christchurch State Trinity Church on Friday, August 29 which will give the curious a good chance to get to know the singer. He has many qualities aside from the obvious, and one which sets him apart from the herd is the intimacy which he breathes into all his songs; when he sings it is personally for each member of his audience. There is a rapport between singer and listener which even television cannot destroy, and yet curiously enough he still feels that he has not mastered that impersonal medium.