GRAMOPHONE NOTES

Greymouth Evening Star, 14 May 1927, Page 12

GRAMOPHONE NOTES

SOME LATEST RECORDS.

(NOTES BY “RECORD.”)

“Scheherazade” (Rimsky-Korsakov), recorded in four parts by the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, under Eugene Goosens.

The story of Rimsky-Korsakov’s delightful poem “Scheherazade,) is the story of the “Arabian Nights,” which had their origin in the idea of the Sultan’s favourite to postpone the threatened execution of all the ladies of the harem by telling a series of fascinating stories to the Sultan, which lasted over 1001 nights. At the end of that time the Sultan had forgotten his original design. The music endeavours to depict the high lights of the entertainment, as, for example, the “Festival of Bagdad,” the “Storm,” and the “Shipwreck.” “Elegie” (Massenet’s “Song of Mourning”), and “Ich Grolle nicht” (Schumann’s “I Do Not Complain”), by John Brownlee (baritone).

John Brownlee, Australia’s brilliant young baritone, was “discovered” by Melba, who took him with her party on her farewell tour of the British Isles. For his inaugural appearance on the H.M.V. discs he has chosen two charming and happily contrasted numbers, one sung in French and the other in German. Brownlee’s voice is of sound quality, with a fine resonance and richness of tone. These records quicken one’s anticipation of future recordings by this very capable artist.

“Come d’aurota sogno,” and “Timor dime?” (Verdi). Anielita GalliCurci (soprano).

Verdi’s style is admirably suited to coloratura singers of the .Galli-Curci school, and in these two numbers, the famous Galli-Curci gives us of her best. The record is a very representative presentation of the GalliCurci method. “Aloha oe” (“Farewell to Thee” — Hawaiian) and “From the Land of the Sky Blue Water” (Cadman), violin disc by Kreisler. Here are two very simple and appealing melodies interpreted with all the artistic expression and technical skill of a world-famous virtuoso. That fact in itself makes the disc well worth while. Backhaus and Brahms. “Variations on a Theme” (Paganini), Op. 35, No. 1 to No. 13, in two parts. Pianoforte, William Backhaus.

Paganini’s extraordinary “Variations,” written for the violin, have been transcribed for the pianoforte by Backhaus himself, and recorded for gramophonists with all the verve and brilliance for which this great virtuoso of the instrument has become justly famous. To teachers and students especially this disc should be very valuable. “Nocturne,” Op. 27, No. 2 (Chopin) —“Rondo in G. Major” (Mozart), Jascha Heifetz, violin. With the return to this country of the boy prodigy, Jascha Heifetz, there is a revival of public interest in his recorded work. Of this there is a very long list in the .catalogues. Amongst his most recent —new process period—are transcriptions of Chopin’s “Nocturne, Op. 27, No. 2, and Mozart’s “Rondo in G. Major." These show Heifetz at his best in stronglycontrasted numbers. “Kashmiri Song.” and “Less than the Dust” (from Amy Woodforde Finden’s “Indian Love Lyrics”). Played by De Groot and his orchestra. Played as orchestral pieces by De Groot’s finished orchestra, these charming songs by Amy Woodforde Finden have a double value and attraction. They can be enjoyed as straight-out orchestral numbers, s or used as orchestral accompaniments by those desiring to sing them. ThP latter is a very enjoyable experience. “Funeral March of a Marionette” (Gounod) —“Punjaub March” (Payne). Black Diamonds Band. It is a long time since we heard a really clear record of Gounod’s quaint marionette processional, and that is what the Black Diamonds Band has given us. The reverse number shows the band in excellent form in a good rousing quick-step. “Always” (Irving Berlin), sung by Barrington Hooper (tenor) —“When the Red, Red Robin” (Woods), sung by Clarkson Rose (comedian). These are probably two of the most popular hits of the day, and in the hands of the above artists make excellent entertainment. DAWSON RECORDS. Peter Dawson tells in the following story from “Pearson’s Weekly” how he once sang as many as fifty times a day: — During my career as a singer I have made more than three thousand different gramophone records, which I believe, is the greatest number ever sung by one individual. I do not know exactly how many copies of these records have been sold, but the 9,000,000 mark was passed some months ago! Making “phenograph” records in the early days of the gramophone was strenuous and tedious work. The art of making many records from a “Master” had not been discovered, and each record had to be made separately. On shelves in the studio were about fifteen recording instruments with big horns, and into these I would sing a song as many as fifty times a day! Often I arrived at the studio at ten o’clock and sang until five with an hour’s break for lunch.

Nowadays, innumerable perfect records can be “printed” from an original master.

Modern recording apparatus is extremely sensitive, so sensitive, in fact, that the rustle of a page being turned or the sound of a footstep is often accidentally recorded. In this connection, an amusing incident occurred at a recording studio just outside London recently. People living in houses near by had started keeping fowls, and the songs of these birds frequently floated in through the widows and became mingled on the record with those of the famous singers! The gramophone company bought all the fowls and compensated their owners, but a few days later it was found that the people had all bought dogs and that barks were being recorded. Thinking that they might eventually have to buy up a stock of cows, donkeys and horses, the gramophone company refused to purchase the dogs, and, bricking up the windows of the studio, bid the animals to do their worst. The studio is now ventilated by a fan in the ceiling. Usually I practise a • song a good deal before recording it, but I made one of my most popular records without any practice at all. I was in the studio one morning, when the manager came up with a manuscript in his hand, and said: “Here is a song that is going to be popular. We want you to make a record of it.” It was the

Cobbler’s song from “Chu Chin Chow.” “All right,” I replied, “I’ll have a look at it.” “Oh, but we want you to sing it now,” was the manager’s astonishing reply. After running through it once with the orchestra, sing it I did. Although I. would not think of singing a classical song in public unless I had practised it for hours, I often find that I can sing a light or popular song much better without practice. My most popular record has been “The Floral Dance.” I have never been able to discover the reason. Perhaps it is because the song is a very jolly one and seems to carry listeners along with its energy. It was certainly a fine piece of recording.