THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

Evening Star, Issue 22106, 13 August 1935, Page 3

THOUGHTS ABOUT MUSIC

[By L.D.A.]

“Music gives tone to the universe: wings to the mind; flight to the imagination: a charm to sadness: gaiety and life to everything.”—Plato. Grace Moore, the film star, who became famous in ‘ One Night of Love,’ made her first and long-awaited ap-r pearance on the stage at Covent Garden on June 6, when she enacted tho role of Mimi in Puccini’s ‘La Bohexne.’ That she achieved a triumph in the part has probably been cabled to New Zealand papers before this, but 1 should like to make it clear that her brilliant success was fully deserved on artistic grounds, and derived nothing from her film reputation. As I heard her sing and saw her act X can personally vouch for this, therefore readers who are interested in this charming artist—and who isn’t P—may draw their own conclusions from the following contradictory London critiques :—■ *•* « « Mr Richard Capell, writing in the ‘Daily Telegraph,’ said: “A lively and all-round accomplished performance of ‘ La Boheme ’ greatly pleased tho audience at Covent Garden last night. As always when such familiar operas as this are given there will be those who say that ‘ Boheme ’ used to be sung more wonderfully in the old days. . . . But Melba and Caruso never looked convincing, however well they sang. If the singing last night was not exactly wonderful, at least it was agreeable and . accomplished, and with it went verisimilitude and unity in the presentation of the characters. In particular a very pronounced success was scored by the new American Mimi, whose name, fresh to Covent Garden, had already been popularised by a cinema film, and there was keen interest in the effect she would make in real life. She proved to be a very thorough artist. So pretty a Mimi has certainly not been seen since about 1912. . . . Miss Moore played the part with just the right dignity and sweets ness—an actress, but also a gifted singer, surpassing expectations. . . . The audience ‘ fell ’ for Miss Grace Moore. • * * * The note of somewhat grudging admiration hi tho above gave way to a record of plain fact in a subsequent notice of the second performance. Headed “Grace Moore’s Mimi: Another Covent Garden Triumph,” it ran: “ On Saturday night Miss Grace Moore repeated her triumph as Mimi in ‘ La Boheme.’ The curtain fell on the first act amid applause that has rarely been equalled, and was raised eight times. Even the -orchestra .remained to applaud. At the close of the opera it was difficult to get the audience to disperse oven after 12 ‘ curtains ’ had been taken, and eventually Miss Moore had to come on alone to receive an ovation. The police were forced to link hands in controlling the crowd at the stage door when Miss Moore emerged.”

Every word written by the ‘ Telegraph ’ critic was correct, though the tone of the notice,' as a whole, inclined to under-statement. My own opinion is that there has not, within living memory, appeared so complete an artist as Miss Moore in the part of Mimi, both as actress and vocalist she was superb, and she looked as charming as she sounded, . . Now mark what another critic had to say of her performance—-to wit, Mr J. A. Forsyth, in the London ‘ Star ’: “ As a film artist come to Covent Garden Grace Moore was a success. With the huge audience keyed up by wild stories she was a triumphant success, but as a prima donna, in the part ot Mimi, which has been sung by many famous prima donnas, she was just an ordinary Mimi. Miss Moore has a pretty voico, she is a pretty woman, and looks tho part, but she is not a good actress. . . . Comparisons are difficult, but in this case . . • the screen loses.” # • *

So hero we have these marvellous London critics nt their old games again. One says Grace Moore is a charming actress, another says she cannot act. What is one to believe without the corroborative evidence of one’s own eyes and oars? In this case the trouble obviously arises from the reluctance of theatrical critics to admit that out ot filmdom can come anything good- « was because of this general attitude among stage advocates that 1 was so glad to record Mr St. John Ervme s whole-hearted tribute to Grace Moore some weeks ago. Actors and musicians must face the fact that continual improvements in mechanical reproduction are daily tending to erase the dividing line between shadow and reality. The time is not far distant when there will not he any difference at all. This column has consistently opposed the mechanical substitutes for music, but we cannot shut our eyes to actuality.

The other day 1 listened to what, for want of a better term, is called a “ wireless set,” made by a young friend of mine, an amateur who has studied the subject just casually, which for absolute fidelity of reproduction 1 have never yet heard equalled, not even by machines costing as many pounds as this home-mado one cost shillings. For the benefit of the curious I may state that the actual cost of materials involved was only two pounds, but several small devices ingeniously incorporated have resulted in such marvellous copying of nature that* the value of this amateur effort is not to he measured in terms of money. When I return to New Zealand—an event that is now definitely in the offing—l hope to bring with me a specimen of my friend’s handicraft, and it will be found, I firmly believe, fo have no rival in the Dominion. But radio salesmen may breathe freely—l am not “ setting ”in opposition. # Before leaving the matter of opera I must not forget to mention my visit to the opera-house which, if not the largest, may at least be termed the most up-to-date in the world. This is at Glyndebourne, where Mr John Christie, a wealthy country squire and operatic enthusiast, has built and equipped a theatre which is universally admired and envied. Glyndebourne is near Lewes, in the heart of rural England, but there is nothing rustic about Mr Christie’s Theatre. Everything used in the performances there is made on the premises. There are workshops for scenery, stage accessories, costumes and dresses—in fact, for the entire histrionic paraphernalia; and to such an extent that in its perfect self-contain-ment—also self-contentment —Glyndebourne is a pattern which the rest of the world’s opera-houses might well copy. The performances are on a similar'plane of perfection, only the best singers and instrumentalists being engaged. I may have more to say about this later.