THE GRAMOPHONE

Southland Times, Issue 19898, 17 June 1926, Page 5

THE GRAMOPHONE

RECORDS OF THE RECORDINGS. (By Vox Populi.) What a joy it is after yards of jazz to renew one’s youth with the Gilbert and Sullivan operas. Sullivan’s melodies, fluid and always charming, carry with them an air of refinement which comes refreshingly in these days. Their excellencies were impressed on me anew by a series of the H.M.V. recordings of the operas sent by Dickey and Co. this week. H.M.V. have recorded most of the Gilbert and Sullivan works under the direction of d’Qyley Carte and while some of the tempos appear strange to me the general treatment is attractive and the recording satisfying. The operas have been done in full and the voices assigned to them are fully capable. “The Yeoman of the Guard,” which Itried out exhaustively because I am so fond of it, is well sung, Edna Thornton and Peter Dawson excelling. I also played over “The Mikado,” which is enjoyable at every turn and will never lose its popularity. One thing I notice about all of these records is that the articulation of the singers is extraordinarily clear. You do not miss a word with the soloists. These records should not be missed by any lover of Gilbert and Sullivan and if they are heard by anyone who has not been fortunate enough to hear G. and S. I think they will inspire a wish to acquire them. These H.M.V. records I tried on one of the new H.M.V. cabinet models. This handsome machine in dark oak embraces the new type of tone-arm and resonator, but it has a double-spring motor and other advantages over the cheaper models. I read somewhere the other day that the single-spring motor is as good as the more expensive job, the only advantage held by the double-spring being that it does not require winding so often. Don’t believe this. The single spring is a good job and it gives good results, but the double-spring must give you longer and smoother running. This new machine is a fine piece of work and on old records and new it demonstrated the advantages of the new system. It also came from Dickey and Co. A recorded work of unusual excellence and one which seems to have escaped wider attention than it deserves is Beethoven’s celebrated “Concerto for Violin and Orchestra” (op. 61), played by that finished and successful recording artist, Miss Isolde Menges, associated by the Royal Albert Hall Orchestra, under Sir Landon Ronald (declares one writer). There are five large double discs in the set, which is well worth hearing by enthusiastic students ,of highclass recorded music. The concerto opens with a long callegro movement which occupies three of the discs, a movement displaying to perfection the composer’s mastery of the art of thematic development. Then follows a beautiful larghetto movement, in two parts, forming a striking contrast to the vivacious allegro, after which comes a sparkling rondo movement, the finale of the concerto. The playing of both soloist and orchestra is admirable, and the recording highly satisfactory. With the rapidly increasing popularity of recorded chamber music there is open to the gramophone student a wonderful realm of delight (says a northern writer). You may go back through the H.M.V. catalogue and wander at will through the gems of instrumental music that is offering. Amongst the most notable of recording achievements in this field is undoubtedly Cesar Franck’s “Quartet in D,” written by the way, when he was in his 67th year. This is regarded as one of the most perfect examples of its kind, combining form and feeling to a unique degree. The playing and interpretation by the Virtuoso String Quartet are excellent. The student of this work, which requires frequent rehearings—as does all good music—before ’its inherent charm is fully revealed, will find pleasurable absorption in catching and following throughout the quartet the little motif which Franck in his characteristic way has introduced. Irving Berlin has confessed that he knows nothing about music, an incredible thing for a man to say who is making £30,000 a year out of it. (declares a Wellington writer). He means, of course,'that he is ignorant of musical technique, or theory, although he admits that he now plays the piano “a little.” All the same, Irving Berlin is a genius. Genius is more than talent, Irving Berlin is fortunate inasmuch as his genius happens to produce a marketable commodity. He has the gift, the extremely facile gift—which seems so easy a thing, but which is so difficult for others—of making popular melodies. If you look carefully at the melodies of Irving Berlin, although he knows nothing about music, and although they are merely “popular” tunes, you will find that they possess both “form” and style. One recent example will suffice out of the hundreds he has written, namely, “All Alone.” Sing it over; note the balance, the easy flow of the melody, and how it lies just within the natural vocal compass. That’s genius. There are many examples of Berlin’s art in the H.M.V. catalogue. They are worth while as studies in the art of melody-making, apart altogether from their great popularity in the ballroom.