THE STAGE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16625, 6 January 1922, Page 6

THE STAGE.

NEWS AND NOTES. (By the “LIMELIGHT MAN.”) Mr Wilfred Cotton has concluded arrangements for the third and final tour of New Zealand by Mario TempestGraham Browne and their English Comedy Company. The tour will commence at Auckland early in February, and other towns to be visited are Dunedin, Timaru, Palmerston North, Napier, Hastings and Wanganui. The repertoire will include several comedies now to New Zealand. Frank Bradley, who partners Alice Hamilton in some first-rnte comedies in Fuller vaudeville, is an Adelaidean who has spent the past fourteen years in England and America. Mr Bradley is practically a new chum to vaudeville, his English work having been mainly confined to comedy. For a long time ho was associated with Cyril Maude, and finds the transition from high-class comedy to vaudeville interesting and instructive. In “ Unearthly ” he lias a sketch that should delight every prohibitionist. It opens the door to wit, humour and philosophy. A second offering is also overflowing with comedy—it keeps the ball of fun rolling merrily. The pair are booked for an early appearance at the Tuam Street theatre.

Melbourne theatregoers, like those of Sydney, have recently been addressed in a critical vein by a stage artist. Mr W T illde Bard, just previous to the termination of his engagement in the Victorian capital, divested himself of his comedy characteristics one evening and quite seriously told his audience that they were slow in applauding him. “ Look here, Melbourne,” said the singer, “ you have got one fault, and as I am leaving for England in about a week’s time I can tell you about it. You allow' me to retire to my room before you decide that you wont extra items.” The house, we are told, was so “ taken aback ” by the rebuke that it did not recover till the next turn -was on.

The record set by Gilbert and Sullivan was literally smashed at the Savoy Theatre (says a London cable dated November 12) when Ethel Oliver with a hammer smote a slab which had graced the theatre’s wall since 1887. A marble slab was hung on January 19 of that year commemorating the 672nd performance of “ The Mikado,” and on the back of it was inscribed: “Not to be destroyed until the record of 672 performances is broken.” This week that record was surpassed by “ Paddy> the Next Best Thing.” So at the happy ceremony Ethel, as Paddy, shattered the tablet.

Theatres are held by the British courts not to be educational institutions, under the terms of a decision handed down by the Lord Chief Justice yesterday (according to a cable message, dated November 4, appearing in American papers). The case arose when tlio auditors of the educational funds of the city questioned the legality of the school authorities spending £3OOO in taking children to special performances of Shakespearian plays. The Lord Chief Justice remarked the educational authorities should take children to the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London, but that the law' did not contemplate attendance at theatres as a part of a child’s elementary tion.

The Bernard »Shaw of to-day is described in Mr Hesketh Pearson’s “ Modern Men and Mummers”:—“ He is a full six feet in height, very spare in frame, with white hair and beard—tho latter narrowing towards the tip—an exceedingly high forehead, head flat at the back, and bristling white moustache. A most expressive, though not actually mobile, face, very pleasant if at times the least bit sardonic, very much alive. Like his his conversation is emphatic, though it is relieved, by a soft, charming voice and a slight, fascinating Irish brogue. He talks quickly, with now and then a sort of half-laugh, and his light eyes help to complete that sense of supreme pleatiantness about his whole personality which is quite incommunicable by picture or pen.”

Cable messages received in his native city of Edinburgh proclaim the wonderful record of success which is being achieved by Mr Joseph Hislop, the onetime choir hoy, who since tho death of Caruso, stands almost unrivalled among the world’s famous tenors. Mr Hislop is on a two months’ tour of tho principal cities of the United States, as leading tenor of the Antonio Scottish Grand Opera Company. Special reference has been made by several writers to the rare Celtic strain of sweetness in his voice, and to the romantic charm and real beauty of the performances largely due to his work. In particular, Mr Hislop’s Rodolpho in “ La Boheme ” has been described on every hand as excelling anything that has been heard In the States for a quarter of a century. At the conclusion of his operatic tour, Mr Hislop -will commence a long series of concert engagements, w'hich will keep him in America until next spring. The relatives of Wagner, Chopin, Liszt and other composers long dead, as well as their heirs of the last century. may come into large fortunes if the law providing for the continuance of “ artistic rights ” in succession to estates passes the French Parliament. The idea (says a Paris cable message to American papers has often been mooted hut rarely has been taken so serioulsy ns it is now. forty Deputies having given approval to the Bill. This is believed to be the first step toward the formation of a special artistic section in the French commercial code. Apart from giving authors the right to claim 1 per cent of all sales of their works between the value of 50 and 10.000 francs, the rights would be extended to their widows, children and grandchildren on tho theory that much of the world’s greatest music and art are unappreciated hv their own generations and are sold at ridiculous prices to bargaining merchants w'ho derive alone profits which should be shared with the artist’s heirs.

#f SOLOMON,” WHITECHAPEL’S MUSICAL PRODIGY. At five o’clock on a recent Saturday afternoon a nervous, pale-fn-ced stood bowing his acknowledgments from the platform of Wigmore Hall to an audience which had recognised the arrival of a great British pianist (writes Thomas Burke, author of “ Limehouso Nights,” in “John o’ London's Week, ly ”). For Solomon was born in London, within sound of Bow Bells, and belongs to several generations of Londoners.

When I first mot him for a few minutes at the house of his guardian and friend, Percy Colson (composer of “ Pro Patria ” and other operatic works), I was left with an impression of moonlight. Since then we have had many talks and meetings, but the first im-

pression remains. His dark head, the dark eyes flnshing with sombre tints, like water at midnight, the dark colour and the deep voice that Boldom rises above a murmur, all suggest night; hut it is night lit by the clear, high spirit of youth that hovers about him and is seen in the twinkling lips and in his attitudes and gestures. HTS FIRST APPEARANCE. He Is a wonder, and everybody wonders at him. I think he wonders at himself. Ho gives no signs of it, but his very seriousness implies n consciousness of great gifts which must be carefully guarded and used only to the highest purpose. Many, no doubt, will remember him ns a little boy of ten, in the usual velvet suit of the prodigy—a tiny figure that could barely bo distinguished from tho great piano on the great platform of that, great Coliseum—the Albert Hall- He was eight years old when he first appeared as a soloist (with orchestra conducted by Arthur Nikisch), and people wondered then at the prodigious techniquo and temperament of this solemn elf. But at the age of twelve he disappeared, and it was assumed that he had gone the way of all prodigies and would bo heard of no more. PRESERVING A GENIUS. They were wrong, and I think his appearance at Wigmore Hall has shown that he was no mere season's sensation. W hat happened was that a group of people recognised the boy’s great ability, and interested themselves in his career; for Solomon was born with genius only, and the silver spoon was missing. They knew that if he were kept at work throughout adolescence he would become stale, and his growing genius would be thwarted, and perhaps killed. In 1916, therefore, Mr Percj’ Colson formed a small committee of music lovers, who made it their business to take him off the public platform and to control his musical education. Since then, and until October 1, he has made no public appearance whatever. The committee sent him to the Continent, and there he has remained these five years, studying under Duprey and Cortot; and he was not permitted to make a public appearance until his tutors and guardians were fully satisfied that he had reached maturity. Cortot, himself one of the great, has hailed Solomon as the new master of the piano. He has two great gifts—the fiery ebullition of vouth, and the ability to control and direct it by technique and intellect.. One would think that there was to-day nothing new' to be discovered in Chopin ; yet this youth has astonished all Chopin students by entirely new interpretations which are undoubtedly “ right.” “It is Chopin at the piano,” said one of his masters. And Solomon is of Chopin’a race, and of Heine’s, and ho has something of each of them. In profile, indeed, he bears a striking resemblance to the youthful Chopin. OTHER TASTES. But with all his temperament, which he reserves exclusively for his work, and with all his devotion to his work, he is a happy human boy. He is still “ Solomon.” He was born with another name, but lie wishes to be known only by his first name. He is now eighteen, and he loves all the things that most appeal to that age. Next to his piano, he loves his push-bike; and two great delights are the Palladium music hall and fried potatoes. If he is not in tho mood, you cannot get him to talk of music, or of his new feelings about a hackneyed passage of Schumann or Brahms; but he will talk for half an hour of Harry Weldon, Billy Merson, and Charles Austin; and when yoy would have him at the piano, he will offer you a dish of fried potatoes. A RESTFUL MANNER. In person, he is neat and well groomed (what a horrid -word that is l), but there is nothing of the dandy about him. His hands are large, disproportionately large, hilt fine and nervous, and he does not use them in conversation. He is restful and serene in manner, but ho arrests attention at first glance. Although quiet and reticent, he has not a trace of the morbidity that sometimes goes with youthful genius. “He has eyes of youth; he speaks April and May.” And he is clean all through, as clean as moonlight at sea. It is my fervent hope that he will not fall, as so many musicians do fall, into those places that are ns the plague to the artist, and quickly destroys him. I mean society drawing-rooms. But 1 think ho has too deep and Heinesque asense of humour to permit himself to . be lionised. I think that -where another might be at Lady Dinkutn’s reception Solomon will be found in the grand circle at the Palladium.