MUSIC AND RECORDS.

Dominion, Volume 19, Issue 89, 9 January 1926, Page 18

MUSIC AND RECORDS.

By

C.J.M.

Coming Attractions. • Mr. IS. J. Gravestock, the wellknown entrepreneur, wilt arrive in b|<:W Zealand from Australia by the Niagara from Sydney on January 18, Mr. Gravestock is in charge of the interests of Dame Clara Butt and Mr. Kennerley Rumlord on their Australian and New Zealand tour Mr. Gravestoek who has always met with considerable success in New Zealand with his attractions, announces that he will bring to the Dominion during the forthcoming year, Backhaus, the world-famous pianist, who is considered by the English critics to be the “faultless pianist of our time,” and who is at present enjoying enormous success in America., Alexander Watson, the popular English lecturer and reciter, who under the management of the late Carlyle Smythe, has become the most popular entertainer of his kind in this part of the world, and the Kendall Ladies’ String Quartett, which Mr. Gravestock engaged last year when in England. “This combination,” says Mr. Gravestock, “is undoubtedly one of the finest string quartets of the present day; they are giving concerts in the Far East at present en route to New Zealand, and I am sure they will meet with the approval of music-lovers throughout Australia and New Zealand.” In a recent criticism of their concerts in London, the “Morning Post” says, “A question often asked nowadays is: ‘Have we advanced musically?’ The answer, after hearing the Kendall String Quartet of ladies at the Wigmore Hall last evening, is emphatically in the affirmative. These players have not been heard for a year, and they now surely must take the very first place among formations of the same kind.”

String Quartet Coming. Some time has lapsed since New Zealand was visited by one of the world’s great pianists, but next year will see the advent of a pianist who is considered by the English musical critics as the “fautless pianist of our time.” Backhaus is well known by name to music-lovers in Australia and New Zealand, as he has been amongst the two or three great pianists in {he public eye for some years, and has regularly toured England, Europe, and America. He was associated with Dame Nellie Melba some years ago on a joint-star* tour, which created such a remarkable box-office attraction in England, that the combination toured America and Canada with similar successful results. In a recent criticism Robin H. Legge, the eminent London critic, wrote in the London “Daily Telegraph”: “Backhaus proved again and beyond cavil or question his right to be considered as the faultless pianist of our time. No praise is too high for such infallible technique and style.” The “Manchester Guardian” critic wrote: “Backhaus last night brought other listeners besides ourself to think him possibly the greatest of all pianists now before the public.”

The Story of the Oboe. The oboe throughout the years, has been the undeserving butt' of much cruel and unjust criticism. The instrument has an antique pedigree yards in length, but it is unfortunate in having a proportionate list of superstitions against it. Truly, of all the instruments which raise their several voices in the orchestra to-day, there is none more distinctive or more beautiful in tonal colouring than the- oboe (writes Alfred Sprissler, in the "Etude”). As a solo instrument it has never flourished to any great extent. Except Schuman, in his three "Romances for Oboe,” composers have been notably lax in seeing into the instrument’s possibilities. But then it is an ideal vehicle for Schumann’s proverbial melancholy, just as the viola seems to have been invented for the rendering of his “Maehrchenbilder.”

The inception of the oboe is shrouded in the mists of antiquity. Its invention was probably an accident, because the double reed’is the most simple of all reed contrivances, and the simple discoveries of value are invariably stumbled upon. ' Probably some careless aborigine, a poet at heart, flattened an end of a wheat straw, which constituted the apparatus capable of setting in vibration the column of air contained in the rudimentary tube.. Having gone thus far in discovery, it was easy to improve noon it, and a reed stalk with the rudimentary reed inserted in one

end became the form the primitive instrument then took. The fundamental, lateral holes were next added; and these, too, were probably results of chance and not of careful experiment. Then a wooden tube was substituted for the reed stalk, still, however, preserving the reed tongue. The oboe as we know it is an instrument containing a conical column of air, which is set in vibration by means of a double reed. This reed is a mouthpiece made of two leaves of Spanish cane, suitably shaped and tuned. A series of holes, pierced in the side of the pipe, permits the instrumentalist to shorten the column of air by a successive opening of lateral vents, and thus to produce a scale, tn the primitive instruments, this scale did not exceed an octave. All wind instruments with a conical column of air, whatever the mode of setting that column in motion, are subject to laws a stronger pressure of blowing, the oboe produces its fundamental an octave higher, and so acquires two octaves which, partially chromatic in the earlier instruments, have become completely so with the addition of many improvements and the adoption of keys. The 17th century made a few improvements in the family. In France, however, the four smaller instruments of the family came into extended use, and were called “haulx bois,” or “high woods,” in order to distinguish them from the two larger instruments designated by the words “gros bois.” Haultbois soon became haut-bois in modern French, and oboe in English, German, and Italian. ( In those early days of the oboe many of the superstitions current to-day concerning the instrument were started. In those days, both reeds and instruments were exceedingly primitive, and the desired effect seemed to be noise, and much of it. Accordingly, to make that peculiar nasal tone strong and distinctive, the instrumentalist .frequently introduced a brass pellet into the stem of the reed,- against which he blew with all his might. Straining in this way often caused hemorrhages of the throat, to prevent which a collar of leather was worn.

Often, however, the effects of this style of playing were so fell as to cause insanity. This has been passed down through the ages, and the laity of every epoch has believed that all oboists arc insane.

Nothing could be more foolish. The modern oboe is an instrument which can be played with no discomfort whatsoever. It is scientifically designed, and the arrangement of keys shows much more study and ingenious planning than on any other instrument. Assiduous and constant practice is a necessity on the oboe, more than on any other instrument; for the peculiar character of the mouthpiece and the method of managing the breath requires much attention.

Another feature of the oboe is tlic reed. As stated in the early part of this article, it is made of Spanish cane. The “blank, or semi-prepared reed, is a piece of cane bent or doubled and bound with thread. This must be soaked in water and bound to a brass tube, the lower end of which is corked to make a tight fit when inserted in the oboe

After the reed has quite dried, a special knife is used to pare it into shape. Then it is “faced” on an ebony block. This is nothing more than placing the blade of the knife straight across the reed at the proper place, and cutting through it, thus making the two tongues free. Then the reed is tuned by shaving with glass .and fine sandpaper. It is then made air-tight with gold-beaters’ skin and is ready to be used.

So many improvements have been made since instrument makers turned their attention to it that they can not possibly be mentioned here. Additions of one or two keys were made up to 18'25, -when the oboe carried nine keys and an octave key. Much later the socalled Military System, which is practically the Albert mechanism for clarinet, was in general use. That gave us oboes with thirteen keys, fifteen keys, and sixteen keys. The modern Conservatory System oboe, as constructed by Lourcc, Cabart, Robert, Selmer, and other makers, is a model of musical perfection. By its use certain passages, designated “unplayable” by Berlioz, are easily negotiated.

The oboe has been neglected for three reasons, two very good, and one utterly foolish. In the first place, the oboe is so seldom used, except in the larger symphony orchestras, that it is not an instrument by the playing of which a man can make his living. However, should the performer be an artist, there is always a place for him.’" Secondly, the small number of the instruments purchased, coupled with the meticulous skill employed in making them and the intricate key mechanisms, make the price for an oboe of standard grade, t-y one of the really reliable makers, out of the question for tlic average person. Lastly, a large number of deluded mortals still believe that the constant vibration of the reed on the lips and the peculiar breathing of the instrument conduce mental and physical disabilities in the performers. Again, let it be reiterated tliat such statements are absolutely groundles sand ridiculous. However, the oboe, as played by the few great performers of it demonstrates amply that its nasal, delicate, and somewhat melancholy tone makes the instrument to-day, as the discant schalmev of old, a prime favourite with the music-lover. Enemies of Music. Among the worst enemies of music are the stern, academic, superior persons who condemn the practice of interweaving tuues borrowed from diverse source?. They want nothing but sonatas and symphonies, and are down on everything that interests the public (writes' H. G. Finck in the "Etude”).

Now, the public simply cannot understand souatas and symphonies, with their contrapuntal and formal complications and artificialities. What it wants, and insists on having, is simple music, and if it cannot get that in the higher realms of music it descends to the lower and "lowest Then the of good music wonder whv so few come to hear them whv good music “doesn’t seem to pay.”

It would pay if the academic and critical enemies of music did not habituallv sneer at good music when it happens to be simple and pleasing to the multitude. Let us take Grieg and Gounod as examples. On one occasion, when Greisr gave a concert in London, the critic of “Truth” hit the nail on the head when lie wrote: “The sight of the audience was a sight to all, and the warmth of the reception accorded to tlie hero of the occasion left no room for doubt as to the continued popularity of his music.

“■prom this latter of view, the case of Griec is indeed rather curious .It is at least an arguable proposition that his reputation with the ouidnuncs would rest much higher if his music were less generally liked. A striking feature of Grieg’s music is. however, despite its originality, and even audacity, its uniformly pleasing quality. Although it is so individual, there is nothing in it which the humblest music lover cannot understand

and enjoy; and this, from the standpoint of a certain type of critics, constitutes a serious defect.”

Hope for Young Composers. “Minstrel,” writing in the “Sound Wave,” offers an interesting suggestion on behalf of young composers who have need of publicity. Every year (he says) Sir Henry Wood chooses some dozen or perhaps a score of new orchestral works, mostly by voting or unknown composers, and which are produced as “novelties” by the- Queen’s Hall Orchestra. In spite of the time, expense, and labour essential to a public performance, the majority of these works, even although favourably received by the public, never see davlight again, or at anv rate the light that illumines the concert-room. This is heart-breaking work for composers who desire to do big things. Without a wealthy patron, or financial assistance from the State, or some philanthropic musical organisation, what call they do? Their works are shelved for various reasons, and not always because they do not show genius. Apart from the question of expense involved in printing and production (much more than meets the eye) the public continually demand new sensations, fresh novelties. The great standard works, of course, cannot be neglected for unknown works of doubtful quality. There is always an audience to be depended on for these and the classics.

This is precisely where the gramophone should step in. The gramophone can and should save the unknown or neglected composer from an undeserved oblivion. It can.make the general public acquainted with his work, and give the critics at large an opportunity of passing a thoroughly matured judgment, which is not to be expetced from a single hearing, especially, when, as often happens, the unknown work is heavily handicapped bv being sandwiched in among some of the world’s musical masterpieces. On the gramophone—presuming, of course, that it is well played and well recorded—the music can be judged with an unbiased mind, and entirely on its own merits. Doubtful passages can be repeated as often as desired. Consensus of opinion (as well as sales of records) will soon show whether the said work is worth preserving. It is not suggested that any and every work that comes along should be recorded —although I might point out that this is actually done with the .music that does not matter; look at the tons of musical offal among the dance music and “popular” songs that continually pass through the recording rooms; but, of course, this, as a whole, pays—l suggest that works of any size, or irrespective of size, for that matter, should be first heard by a competent musical committee, who would reject the palpably poor or inefficient works.

This committee could easily be drawn from the leading recording houses, and promising works allotted in turn to those houses controlling efficient orchestras.

The Land of Song. The musical history of England has been chequered and broken in all respects save one—choral singing. English people, writes Mr. Richard Capell in the “Daily Mail,” have always delighted in singing in company. To England belongs the first of known part songs—the thirteenth century “Summer is Icttmen In.” Its primitive art was to culminate in the unmatched glories of the Elizabethan niadrigalists, who wrote for a society in which all persons of education sang. In Pepys we see how part singing was enjoyed in the seventeenth century. Later on, Handel, Hayden, and Mendelssohn wrote masterpieces for English choirs; their names arc still honoured and their notes sung. In recent times, while the Continent has surpassed the Home Country in many branches of music, English choral singing has remained quite unrivalled. . It is curious that in Italy, land of supreme solo singers, one does not hear choral singing that is, bv English standards, good. In Paris there are no choral societies at all, and a performance of a choral masterpiece is a rarity. This English cult gives a clear field to English composers. There is hardly any considerable modern foreign choral music. Various worlrs are tried from time to time, but nothing later than Verdi’s Requiem f 1874) has established itself. The demand has been met at home. Such a composer as Parry will live solely by his fine choral music. Elgar’s cantatas and glorious oratorios are regularly sung bv many societies. Later composers— Vaughan Williams, Holst, and Bax—stride boldly along new paths in their choral writing. The “Mater, Ora F«liu>n* of Bax and Hoist’s new Choral Symphony are music such as the rest of Europe does not know. Enormous massed choirs, so much admired in Victorian days, are to-day out of fashion. In the past 20 years the competitive festival movement has encouraged smaller, more flexible, and intensely trained organisations. If England is tlis. land of choirs, Yorkshire is par excellence the choral countv. Its boast is that, granted Yorkshire singers, a composer can give his fancy as free a rein as he likes.

RECORDED MUSIC

His Master’s Voice A word of warning. Do not trust too implicitly the figures engraved on the speed indicators generally fitted on gramophones. These are frequently wrong, and it is safer to time the revolutions of the turntable with a watch. After the necessary adjustment the correct speed can then be marked opposite the pointer of the speed indicator.

A military band that is enjoying a new vogue with gramophone lovers is that of H.M. Royal Air Force. This talented group of musicians, conducted by FlightLieut. J. Amers, has just recorded Moszkowski's gay composition, “Spanish Dance —Op. 12, No. 2,” a very effective piece of orchestral music.

Lovers of Old English dances cannot fail to be charmed amongst coming records with two of Purcell’s bourrees and “The Countess of Westmorland’s Delight" (W. Shield) played on the piano by Una Bourne. Isolde Menges, the violinist, also makes a welcome addition to her already long gramophone repertoire with three jolly pieces by Handel, namely, a Hornpipe, Rigaudon, and Passacagh.

On the occasion of the production of “The Pines of Rome” by the Symphony Orchestra, under Mr. Albert Coates, at the Leeds Musical Festival recently, a gramophone record of a nightingale s song was put on in the midst of the orchestra-to a soft string accompaniment. The nightingale was reared from a fledgling in the “His Masters Voice” recording laboratory at Hayes in order that she might get used to the whirr of the recording apparatus.

The war between the French tango and the fox trot has been called off. Recently Varaldi’s French tango band were making gramophone records at the “His "Master’s Voice” studios,

Hayes where W. F. de Mornys, of the Sarov Orpheans, who brought the new baud to London, explained the situation in an interview. “Nothing would kill syncopated music quicker than too much'syncopated music,” said he. Syncopatcd music has been popular for fourteen years. It is much more entertaining than any other dance music. But if we had it from half-past nine in the evening until two o'clock in the morning people would get weary of it. The French tango is a change. That is why we are giving both, ihere is peace between us.”

An excellent series of light records has just been issued by the Gramophone Company, among which are a number of examples of the tango dance, which is now again becoming increasingly popular. These should be here soon. There are three double-sided lOin. tango records, all playe'd by the Varaldi Tango Band, which is now performing each night at the Savoy Hotel. The six tunes give an excellent idea of the languorous rhythm of the modern tango. “Hasta la Reuta and "Sentimiento Gaucho” are the most pleasing of the six, but all are good.

Of the more familiar fox trot, there are also a number of good examples in the last batch of records. There are six more tune's, played by Mr. Jack Hylton’s band from the Piccadilly Hotel, which show that combination at its best. On one is “Mercenary Mary,” from the new musical comedy at the Hippodrome, and, on the other side, “You Forgot to Remember,” while another pleasant record contains “Land of Dreams Come True,” the waltz from the musical comedy “Dear Little Billie” at the Shaftesbury, and “Some Other Day Some Other Girl.” On a third record are “Stamboul,” a melody with a pleasant lilt, and “Chick, Chick, Chick.” The Savoy Orpheans give us “Row, Row Rosie,” which is sure to be a pantomime favourite, and “I Can’t Realise You Love Me,” and on a second disc “Wait Till it’s Moonlight” and “I Want to See My Tennessee.” Mr. Paul Whiteman’s orchestra also provides four specially attractive pieces.

There are also some amusing vocal records. Mr. Brooke Johns, who recently appeared at the Kit-Cat Club, sings two songs in characteristic style; Mr. Frank Crummitt sings “Ukelele Lady,” and another song with the accompaniment of piano, guitar, and ukelele, while Mr. Vai and Mr. Ernie Stanton provide plenty of humour on a double-sided record entitled “English as She is Not Spoken.” “I Miss my Swiss Miss, my Swiss Miss Misses Me,” which has recently been introduced to London by “La Chauve Souris” at the Stjand Theatre, is sung by the “Happiness Boys” with good effect, and Mr. Melville Gideon shows what a clever artist he is in a record containing two of his most recent songs, sung and accompanied by himself. They arc “I’ve Fallen in Love with a Voice” and “You Forgot to Remember.”

As things are to-day, before an artist of any eminence is permitted to broadcast he has to reckon not only with the gramophone companies (most of whom arc quite sympathetic), but also with concert promoters, many of whom in the provinces as well as in London arc, I know, hostile to broadcasting (writes Mr. Cedric Sharpe, the well-known H.M.V. violinist, in a letter to the Press). As an indication of how groundless is this suggestion of rivalry between broadcasting on the one band, and on the other either the gramophone or the concert platform, the experience of myself and of my colleagues of the Virtuoso String-Quartet may be illuminating. I have done a great deal of recording for His Master’s Voice Gramophone Company, and I have also broadcast several times both in London and all over the country. Since I have broadcast the sales of my gramophone records, and especially of the actual numbers broadcast, have multiplied by over onethird. I have received even more striking evidence of the stimulating effect of broadcasting upon concert work. Ten months ago the Virtuoso String Quartet gave their first concert in the Wigmore Hall; on Tuesday evening we'are giving our second. In the interval our total bookings have already quadrupled, and I am convinced that this result is the direct consequence of our broadcasting and our gramophone work; nor do I think that any sensible person will dispute the proposition that concerts, broadcasting, and gramophone recording each help each other.”

The curious case of Galli-Curci invites reflection (says a writer in an English musical journal). What a marvellous singer she will be accounted when she can be adjudged on her records alone! If 1924 can be said to have pricked the Galli-Curci bubble tn England, so far as the concert room is concerned, it is still questionable whether any singer is not entitled to claim only to be rated according to her best. We acclaim Shakespeare for “Hamlet” and “Macbeth,”,not for “lhe Two Gentlemen of Verona” or “Cvmbeliue.” It is more than possible that Patti and. Lind, Mario and Sims Reeves, are remembered by exceptional performances rather than by the general run of their achievements. Anyhow, it Is no grievance against the gramophone that through the means of selection open to it one is likely to hear a singer from it rather above the average of her form.

At last something quite unmistakable has come in the two-part record by Eugene Goossens and the Royal Albert Hall Orchestra of a selection from “La Boutique Fantasquc,” the famous ballet bv Rossini and Respighi (says a London reviewer). We may have had examples of the new recording before, but without a doubt this is something different from the usual. . The tone amount is remarkable, and the effect is really brilliant even with a soft needle, but something seems to have been lost in the reproduction of the string tone, which made me think of a human voice that has a “thread” in it. A friend said the louder portions suggested that the orchestra were playing through their nose, but I promptly rebuked him for his flippancy. The other parts of the orchestra have recorded with notable clarity and success, and the gain in brilliance is remarkable, as I have already said. I felt that the performance had been excellent, and that I "as getting in the reproduction the full vivacity of the original. For the light and lively numbers of this ballet, which make charming music, the tone quality of the record is a point of interest rather than a defect, but it would not be satisfactory for anything of a more thoughtful cast, say, a symphony of Brahms or Elgar.

One does not often have the chance of hearing the Zimbalon. so it is the more welcome when it does make itself heard It could not be played with more fire and minutelv perfect technique than it is bv Nitza Godolban, who gives us a Caucasian song called “La Ce Leschena” and “Dizzy Fingers.'

It is only lately that the gramophone has begun to make up for its long neglect of Brahms. The works of that composer, except perhaps the well-

known Hungarian Mances, have always been caviare to the general, and the fact that the principal recording companies arc now steadily issuing some of the finest products of Brahms s genius is in itself a striking proof of the appeal which the gramophone now makes to the most cultivated musical taste. One of the most delightful of the recent additions to the Gramophone (H.M.V.) Company’s catalogue are the “Variations on a Theme,” Op. 35 iFaganini, Brahms). On the four sides of two records Herr Wilhelm Backhaus gives a rendering of the 28 variations m Books 1 and 2 which (says a Loudon reviewer) shows that he still possessen the fine qualities of tone and execution which earned for him so much popularity hi our concert rooms before the war. Herr Backhaus is particularly fortunate in the piano he uses, and the standard of recording is very high.

A. notable record just published by the H.M.V, Company contains three pieces bv Handel, transcribed for the violin bv’ Sir Hamilton Harty, and very finely played by' Miss Isolde Menges. A special feature of this record is the piano accompaniment, which is beautifully played by Miss Eileen Beattie.

Many Mayfair beauty specialists are recommending physical culture records enthusiastically in the cause of feminitie beauty, and are helpful in explaining how often and for bow long to use them. The records are in sets ot three, and these have been sold quicker said the manager of a London West End shop the other day, than the makers can supply tliem, mostly to women who are anxious to reduce their figure to present-day demands or to retain their slender silhouette. Advice is given with them not to overdo the movements —two being plenty to begin with, increasing them as time goes on. Generally speaking, thev are exercises for the chest, for suppleness, and for the stomach, and were planned and made under the direction of one of the most important physical culturists in London, In several nurseries where there are young, growing occupants, too small or perhaps too delicate to ~end to school, these records are being used regularly by nurses and governesses with the most excellent results. Columbia.

Mr. Arundel Orchard, of the New South Wales Conservatorium, hopes to be able to give Strauss’s “Death and Transfiguration" in Sydney during the coming year. This notable work has not yet been heard performed in New Zealand, except through the medium of the Columbia records. It was from a rendering by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra that this was done. The occasion was notable because it was the first time that this celebrated orchestra had been recorded with Bruno Walter as conductor. The record is in five parts, and is complete. It is a masterpiece in recording, as was the performance. “Tod und Verklacrung.” to give it its original name, is a work that should be in the collection of every musician—it probably is by this time in New Zealand. But the particular amateur wilt desire to have it, on once hearing it played over. It is a symphonic poem that reveals new beauties on every hearing.

“Mi par d’udir ancora,” from Bizet’s opera, “The Pearl Fishers,” is surely one of the loveliest arias that ever tenor sang.. It receives a perfect interpretation from Dino Borgioli. Of couise, it is sung in Italian, but so expressively that one can gain a clear impression of its sentiment, the vision of loveliness that the poor fisherman has when he remembers his first meeting with the priestess Leila. Borgioli has many operatic records to his credit, but few finer than this. The companion on the disc is the familiar “Salve dimora,” from Gounod's "Faust.” There is some quality, hard to define, in Borgioli’s voice that makes his records so very different from those of other operatic tenors. It may be called a sweetness for want of a better word, that is peculiarly his own.

“Dear Little Billie” is one of London’s latest musical successes, so is included in the latest list of records. The London Theatre Orchestra gives a bright example of its performance of “Land of Dreams Come True,” “I’m Fed-up,” "Honeymoon for Three,” and other popular lyrics. Other successes of the London Theatre Orchestra listed by Columbia are selections from "Clo, Clo,” "By the Way," and “On With the Dance.”

“Yearning” and “Valley of Roses” are the newest records made by that popular tenor, Hubert Bisdell. The former is by Brie Coates, the latter by Haydn Wood, and the songs are likely to prove very acceptable new additions to programmes arranged to entertain friends.

The Hebrew hymn "Koi Nidrei” (Max Bruch) has been perfectly trans ferred to the disc from a performance bv that master of the ’cello, Pablo Casals. It is usuallv heard as a violin solo, but it is to be preferred, one mav be pardoned for thinking, on the ’cello. All the solemnity and beauty of the ancient melody are brought out bv Casals, as one might expect. The lower notes are remarkable for their richness. It is difficult on hearing this record to believe that the performer is not present in person.

Staracciari’s latest record is the now very familiar prologue in “I Pagliacci.” He sings it magnificently, as is only to be expected, considering that this aria was the first he sang for Columbia, and he must have sung it uncountable times before and since. It serves to display his magnificent voice and profound sense of the dramatic in singing.

For the first time in Australia. This distinction belongs to Gustav Hoist’s great work, "The Planets.” It was performed by the New South Wales Conservatorium Orchestra on December 2. It is not unfamiliar to New Zealand through the records made for Columbia from a performance bv the London Symphony Orchestra, Gustav Holst himself conducting, and is in 14 parts, that is, is contained on seven discs. Holst, nothwithstanding his foreign name, is an Englishman. His latest opera is on the subject of Falstaff and is named "At the Boar’s Head.” Readers of Shakespeare will know from that what side of the portly’ knight’s character the 'omposer has depicted. Perhaps it would be more correct to associate the movements of “The Planets” less with astronomy than with the attributes of the various rods after whom the stars were named, going bv the striking and original musical treatment of the themes constituting the suite.

Some of the new srimophones are fitted with tiny spirit levels, a reminder that we are not always kind to our gramophones when we carrv them out to garden or verandah and set them on an uneven surface. A carrying case for records is a worth while investment for a gramophone which goes out of doors; it keens the discs in order, and bv storing them flat prevents warning —and if left lying about in sunlight thev will warp pretty quickly. A great deal may be written about record stor-

age, but when kept flat in their envelopes and as free from dust as possible, they will keep in very good order. A warped record can be straightened by being set towards the base of the pile, which should never be allowed to exceed a dozen records, as their weight is considerable. As to labelling them, a simple method is to use on each envelope a tab of the gummed linen tape sold in convenient rolls. This holds firmly, and the title, written clearly, can be seen without the need of disturbing the records from their piles.

Old songs are much beloved by Dame Clara Butt, who is coming to New Zealand after a triumphal tour in the Commonwealth. One of the latest of her records to reach the Dominion is. “She Wore a Wreath of Roses.” With it goes “Cleansing Fires,” by Adelaide Proctor. The first old song is sung with marked expression and with great pathos. Every word is clear and distinct, and the rich beauty of the famous contralto’s voice lias been enshrined in this record. It is an affecting song as interpreted by such a singer. The accompaniments are furnished by Mr. Albert Ketelbey's orchestra.

Parlophone. By far the finest examples of recorded choir work anywhere arc the beautiful numbers made for Parolophone by the Irmler Madrigal Choir (women’s voices, with accompanist). Some time ago the writer went into raptures over a Schubert “Ave Maria”-“Lutanel” bracket, and has been wondering ever since when he would hear more of this high quality of recorded singing. The other day he chanced upon Mozart’s “Das Veilchen.” with the companion number, “Sah ein Knab ein” (Roselin Steh’r); Luigi Luzzi’s “Ave Maria,” and Reinhardt’s “When Roses Bloom”; and" I Would That My Love” —“Greetings” (both Mendelssohn's). These may not be easy to get, as stocks are low, but you can try.

Among the light records recently issued by Parlophone are three excellent examples of the Argentine tango- which is gradually becoming popular in England again. Played by leading Argentine tango orchestras, these records were made in Buenos Ayres, and it is obvious that every care has been taken to reproduce the strictest “tango” time, for the result is admirable and should appeal to those who dance to the gramophone. Five out of the six tunes are played by orchestras, directed by Senor Roberto Firpo and Senor Francisco Canaro, who are well known as both composers and conductors of tango music. The most striking of the three records contains “Amigaso” on one side and “Scntimineto Gaucho” on the other, but all are of a high standard. There also come from Parlophone some melodious “fox trots," playeds by a variety of orchestras- one of the pleasantest of which contains, on one side, “I Miss My Swiss,” the song which was introduced to England by the company of “La Chauve Souris." There are also one or two pleasing vocal records in the list.

One must mention also a series ol dances as played by the Vincent Lopez Pennsylvania Orchestra. Those to be chiefly recommended are “Don’t Bring Lulu.” “Ukelele. Lady,” “Hong-Kong Drcam Ladv” (which seems to be very popular), “just a Little Drink,” and “By the Light of the Moon.”

A young woman with aspirations to be a singer, and, as is so often the case, little else, went to a German vocal teacher for a try-out before arranging to take lessons. The professor sat down and played a selection, while the budding but ambitious singer poured out her choicest assortment of notes. When all was o’er the professor swung round on his stool and in a wrathy voice said’. “Ach, Gott! Never have I heard such a voice. I blay on der vite keys and I blay on der black keys, but you sing in der cracks 1”

Brahms was prejudiced against women pianists. One evening when seated by request next to Teresa Carreno, be commenced a diatribe on his favourite theme. “I hoped to make my two piano concertos prohibitive for women plavers and thought I had succeeded, but”—here he gave a desperate groan —“they will play them!” An embarrassing silence fell upon the company, but Carreno with her ready tact, took the dilemma by the horns and said “But mv dear Maestro, here I sit ’overwhelmed with mortification!” to which Brahms repiled, “My dear child, vou don’t for a moment suppose that this remark was directed to you; I always look upon you as a man pianist 1”

Mascagni boasts that he composed his opera, “Lodolctta,” in one hundred days That’s nothing. Rossini wrote his “Barber of Seville” in a fortnight; and when Douizctti heard of it, he remarked sarcastically: “I always thought he was a lazy’ fellow.

Josef Hoffman says that Rubinstein was fond of a good story, even if it was at his own expense. At one time he had a new opera produced, and he promised the musicians that if the opera were a success he would give them all a good supper. On the night of the first performance, Rubinstein was disgusted at what he thought was its failure, so he went home alone and went to bed. About one o clock the door-bell was rung violently. Aroused from his slumbers, Rubinstein went to the, floor, and there was one of the oboists and other players. He nantly asked what was the matter that he should be disturbed at such an hour, and the man replied: You invited us to supper if the opera was a succe.s, we liked it very much.

One dav, at Bergen, Grieg went out fishing in a small boat with his friend, brants Bevel. After a while a musical theme suddenly came into his head. Taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, he quietly jotted it down and put the paper on the bench at his side. A moment later a gust of wind blew it overboard. Urieg did not see it but Beyer saw and picked it tip! Being himself « composer, _he read tlie nielodv, and, after putting the paper in his pocket whistled it. Grieg turned like a flash and asked, “What was that?” Beyer answered nonchalantly, “Only an idea I jttst oot.” whereupon Oneg retorted, Inc devil vou sav: I just got that same idea mvself!” .