SINGER’S TRAGIC END

Otago Daily Times, Issue 22723, 8 November 1935, Page 12

SINGER’S TRAGIC END

FROM WEALTH TO POVERTY Several months ago a woman patient in the Charing Cross General Hospital, London, suddenly began to sing. Patients, nurses and doctors paused, astonished, as the rich golden. notes flooded the ward. Then the “ houseman ” walked to the patient’s bed, lifted down her chart and looked at it —“ Amy Sherwin.” He turned to the ward-sister and whispered: “ Used to be a Covent Garden opera singer.” And he looked down with pity at the old face, with its rflear white skin, its bright blue eyes, and the mouth of a girl. It was her swan song. For now Amy Sherwin is dead. She died forgotten, lonely, and penniless, in an Essex cottage. At one time the whole world knew her. She earned from £3OOO to £SOOO a year long before the war; before the days of Hollywood. She was feted, she packed opera houses, she was the friend of kings and counsellors . . . and now this!

Her early days were a struggle. Her parents were Tasmanian pioneers. Seven times before she was 12 their homestead was destroyed by fire or flood. Her early efforts to gain a name as a singer were as desperate. Then one day she gatecrashed into the manager's office at Coveut Garden. And, as he yelled: “ Get out! " she sang. So he said, “ Shut the door, while 1 make out your contract." After that she captured the world. Mr L. G. Sharpe, who used to be her concert agent, says: “ Her's was a marvellous career. She used to live in Hampstead in a large house with a splendid music room. There she gave concerts. After she gave up singing she did a lot of teaching." In fact. Mme. Amy Sherwiu's school w’as famous. She was an inspired teacher, and her pupils’ concerts at the Aiolian Hall drew all the agents as well as all the critics. If, toward the end, she was asked how she had come to be in the general ward of a large London hospital, she w'ould smile bravely and say; "I was never a good manager. ’ The fact is that, like many great artists, money meant little to her. She was gcueroiis to a fault. And so she died peuuiless. At the end she was left alone. Mr Sharpe was almost her only visitor. The Musicians’ Benevolent Tund kept her from sheer destitution.

A sad end to a great career? Amy would never admit it. She had sunk. She had helped others to sing. And her voice was still sweet and pure. When she died there was a smile on her Bps.