Music and Drama.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVIII, Issue 21, 20 November 1912, Page 13

Music and Drama.

By

BAYREUTH.

BOOKINGS. (Dates subject to alteration.) AUCKLAND PICTURE SHOWS. The Lyric Theatre, Symonds StreetNightly. Royal Albert Hall* Albert Street—Nightly. Ragtime and Tnrkey Trot Music. KROM time to time American ragtime and turkey-trot music is debated in all its aspects, aud recently much heated argument has centred around the question whether it is good or bad for the people. While it has been vigorously denounced in high quarters, distinguished, or at least able, apologists have not been wanting for the ear-tickling ragtime. One correspondent in an American musical journal avers that the public undoubtedly needs some form of primitive music, but he is not, sure whether that need is best filled by ragtime. ‘‘What is the condition in other countries?” he says. "They have no ragtime. Are the masses, therefore, without any music at all? No, they have a higher standard, that is all. . . . They have the sapie ‘dead line’ between popular and artistic music, but the popular music is raised to a higher level, because there is no non-progressive and non-elevating element like ragtime in it.” Continuing in this strain, the writer sums up the position which ragtime occupies in his country by saying that “It positively hinders a musically uncultured person in gaining an appreciation of higher - music.” The arguments tire correspondent makes against ragtime are questionable. Ju the first place it is doubtful if the popular music of other countries is one whit better, or more elevated from an art point of view, than the American peculiar form of syncopated rhythm, commonly known as ragtime. "La Paloma,” and music of that order, played by the Italian aud Spanish peasants on '.heir eternal guitar and mandolin, may be of a more romantie cast, but it is certainly heard with as much abhorrence by the musically cultivated Spaniard or Italian as is ragtime by the American art connoisseur. But there is an aspect of the ragtime question which has been somewhat overlooked by the numerous people who have taken part in its debate. And that is its evolution as a distinct national form. Of course the musical classicist will vigorously scout the idea of ragtime being in the nature of a distinct national form from which better things might one day evolve. Nevertheless, this form of American music is alive and real, and anything in the nature of even a beginning of a distinct colour or school in its music is of vital importance to every community, especially to countries young in art such ■is Australasia and America. MarslrallHall, of Melbourne, is a strong advocate b-r distinctive music in colour, form, and programme” from our composer's, and lie has little hope for worthy Australian additions to the world’s musical literallire till such time as our musicians shall imbue their compositions with an individuality that shall come to be known as "Australian.” Coon Songs in Germany. It is something in favour of American ragtime to know that it has penetrated to Germany, the stronghold of musical classicism, where the American coon songs have taken a grip on the popular ianey. I u this connection the following paragraph occurs in a leader in the London "Musical News” of a few months ago on "Is Musical Taste Decaying in Germany?”;— “It Is certainly very sad that ragtnne should be preferred to Chopin, and 1 oat Leo Kall should be more appreeiuted than Wagner, but still there is Nothing very new or very serious about 1 >e fact. The circles which really enjoy -ueh light forms of music are not the ' ireles which are truly musical. When a man once appreciates line music, the ’ghter manifestations of what for want " a better- term is called music simply passes him by; if he were to consider >t seriously, it would disgust him, but, a -s rt is, he looks upon it merely as amusement for an idle moment. He can never feel the mail enthusiasm for it * llle h non-musical minds experience. ven in these instances, however, the

vogue is but ephemeral: newcomers thrust out old-stagers. This type of mind is pretty universal, and obtains in Germany as mueh as elsewhere, but we do not infer from that that German musical taste is on the down-grade. There, as elsewhere, it is left to the few to keep the flag of classical art flying.” Futurist Music aud the Critics. The topic of conversation in English musical circles recently has been Arnold •Schonberg’s futurist compositions. They have, to say the least, created a mild furore, aud not a little bewilderment. The critics have had some very hard things to say about the new music. Appended are some extracts:— “ The Times.”—An essay on dissonance. . . .It was like a poem in Tibetan; not one single soul in the room could possibly have understood it at a first hearing. . . . The listener was like a dweller in Flatland straining his mind to understand the ways of that mysterious occupant of three dimensions, man. As far, however, as it was possible to transcend one’s limitations, the musie seemed to be a study in textures. . . . At the conclusion, half the audience hissed. That seems a too decisive judgment, for after all they may turn out to be wrong: the other half applauded more vehemently than the case warranted, tor it could hardly have been from understanding. "Daily Telegraph.”—There is much that is literally shocking. One felt, however, that there is a lot of deliberate logic in these pieces. ... It is music well put together; form aud contrast—two big thingsare there, “ugliness ” galore, “ beauty ” starved to death, sheer technical skill unsurpassed. It is a “ human document,” bewildering enough, it is true, but human, and immensely personal to the writer himself. “ Morning Post.”—lt is best described as nature musie. The key to the understanding of this " musie ” is an acquaintance with open-air life, preferably in that part of the world where there are large quantities of live stock. The sounds they would add to those of nature are faithfully reproduced. . . . It is the reproduction of the sounds of nature in their crudest form. Modern intellect it is generally supposed has advanced beyond mere elementary noises; Herr Schonberg has not. “Daily Mail.”—Herr Schonberg seems to start where Herr Richard Strauss ends. The bleating sheep, the bellowing eattle, and cracking whips of the sacrificial procession in "Electra” are celestial harmonies when compared with the tortured, yet infinitely subtle, discords of these orchestral pieces. “Daily Express.”—Mr Schonberg’s pianoforte music is like a bad dream; his orchestral music is little short of a nightmare. It recalls memories of the incongruous combinations that so troubled the sleep of the Lord Chancellor in “ lolanthe.” The programme explained that “it contains the experience of his emotional life.” They are certainly very mixed emotions. On the whole, one wonders whether in Mr Schonberg musie has not at last unearthed a humorist? Adventures of a Priina Donna. Madame Melba, after 14 months spent in Australia, has returned to England, where she has started on a concert tour. Intervieweel by the “Daily News,” the famous prima donna gave some of her experiences. “I had a splendid time,” she said. " The people seemed to like me; they crammed and banged and fought for tickets. In fact, over 1000 of them waited from 4 o’clock in the morning to get seats, and when they were admitted (much earlier than usual) the management lent them a grand piano to while away the time of wait- ’ ing. They gave an impromptu concert, and sang very well, too. We discovered quite a good tenor among them, and he’s now being trained. " They were very enthusiastic, and lowered flowers from the gallery on string I

“Australian audiences are more unconventional than English ones. The people at Sydney gave me a gold bowl and my Melbourne friends made me a present of a gold loving cup.”

Mme. Melba had moro than one exciting adventure. One day she set out by motor-ear from Albany to Melbourne (roughly 2500 miles) to try and beat the train. A Wonderful Road. “I shudder - at the recollection of it,” she said. “ We got lost in fogs and mists, and the road was terrible; I was jolted from one end of the car to the other. Every time we asked what the road ahead was like, we were told that we had just got over the best part, and there was ever so mueh worse to come. “ The provisions ran out, and when we got home I had hysterics, and the chauffeur had to go to bed and stay there for two days.” On another occasion, “ for the sake of diversion,” Mme. Melba visited a dam in course of construction, and undertook a journey in a “ flying box ”■—a rough car which crosses a chasm, in this case 600 ft deep. “ I just lay in the bottom and screamed,” said the prima donna, with a shudder. “It was horrible.” Who Was Mr. Hamlet? To be brief: Hamlet was the guy that made the soliloquy famous. From early boyhood Ham was a loud thinker and often annoyed the family by thinking in his sleep. When he grew up he developed the habit of talking while the audience wept. It seems Hamlet's father was kinging it over all the brunettes in Denmark just before the curtain went up, and from all reports he was a perfectly complete and satisfactory king, never paying so mueh attention to the queen as to arouse public sentiment. But one afternoon, while the king was out in the shed fixing up the gas-metre, some hateful person slipped up and dropped a match into the job. His Majesty made a Tye face, but there were no bartenders near to ratify the royal desire, so without even waiting to say anything famous the king joined the Eternal Hasbeens. The queen felt real bad about this, and it took all the under parties, matinees, etc., that could be arranged

to drown her sorrow. - However, when it (the sorrow) Anally went down for the third time, she fared forth again on the choppy sea of matrimony, this time with the demised king's brother as the skipper.

When Hamlet heard of this his princely Angora became decidedly rampant, and he immediately accused his mamma and the new king of jobbing the erstwhile Greatest Mark in Denmark. The new king said it was no such thing, and that the Big Noise had cashed in from eating diseased tinned meat and soft-shell crabs. This seemed reasonable enough to satisfy the coroner, anyhow. But all this made no impression upon the sultry Dane, who was being visited at more than fashionable late hours by a fellow that gave his name as Mr. Ghost and who said he could only get out at nights, because he had to work all day hooking swells. One night he came in just as Hamlet was killing a welsh rabbit, and when he had told all he knew Hamlet thought he had evidence enough to go ahead. If the solicitor for the defence had only been wise he would have contended that Hamlet ate the rabbit before he said he saw the ghost. But to go on, when Hamlet's olfactory nerve wised him up to the fact that there was “something wrong in the State of Denmark,” he developed a terrible grouch, evolved countless yards of blank verse on the perfldity of women, beginning with the immortal line, "Women are but true as their complexions,” and then proceeded to neglect, scorn and also just plain throw down his erstwhile lady love, Ophelia. Ophelia had just begun to think about getting measured for a crown, and when the prince suddenly took another taek, the lady was chagrined and otherwise peeved. As a result she became more and more light headed as time went on, until finally she had nothing on her mind but her coiffure, and even that some one else had reared from childhood. Her favourite pastime was to go out and pick seaweed for her lover, but flowers always reminded Hamlet of his florist bill, and he refused to wear any

of Tie? cuutril»uli<»f\s itt his •buttonhole, fin what could tin*, poor girl do? .We had almost overlooked a fuu: young cabaret staged -by Handel for the l»eiieHl of the court and the newspaper.*. The king -ind <pieen were-there in the Toy a I stall. and wore all the regal har•During the nderval the king went out for a dra ugh I of fresh air, and, falling into the hands of an usher, never regained his seat. The. king didn’t see the ivhole show, as there were more than C’ixty in the chorus atone. Oust about here Ophelia drew' the spotlight to her careless self by strolling one afternoon and dying of a }>roken. heart. You’ll say any such thing ould never happen. Of bourse' it wouldn’t happen now. fi’lie ninth innings of the game saw Hamlet preparing for a little carving 'foYitest with one Mr. Laertes, who had jbeon recalled from an expedition to inyenge Ophelia's death. In the scuftto *sfr. Hamlet got hold of Mr. Laertes’ jknife, and there was little left for Mr. j./uertes to do but die. The queen said jbhe was that disappointed that she could iiave died! And so she did. making the Fyoro 2. Then the king carelessly drank Something that was lying around loose, Jand it turned out to be water. The J-diock killed him. ■ Jt was lonesome in Denmark the next day. • - American Exchange. John Masefield and His Wistful, s •“ Tragedy of Nan," * The name of John Masefield begins to jwhi the interest of a public growing cons t an 11 y la rge r. The re a re t wo cu r i ou.s features connected with the Masefield cult, fln the first place, it owes nothing to the [personal influence of the author, •whose yagabond life is l<» most of his readers a 'matter of rumour or mystery. In the Bcoond place, he may be said to have two widely differing publics—one consisting of /hose who see in -him the author of the most notable dramatic productions of jmnny decades, and the other of those helio know and love the sea and seaman*.* [life, and find in him its sympathetic interpreter. Keen sailormen road his “Saltwater Ballad*" and “A Mainsail Haul,” land little they care to read about, the sea as a rule. But they do not know ho wrote ‘The Tragedy of Nan," which the London “Observer" calls “the truest, piece of dramatic workmanship presented bii the public stage during the pa-t two years, virile, essentially dramatic, real." Hhose "who, in turn, know' .him as a dramatist have nsualls to he told of his other Work. He has been, in fact, for the last twelve years an all round writer for various Kuglidt publishing houses; is fbe author of several novels; has compiled sea-lore ami historical matter; and has even written books for boys. He was born in Shropshire thirty-eight years ago, we learn in an article by Andre Tri<ton in the New' \ ork “Sim." and spent a roving, lazy, somew hat A\ hilntanesque Jvouth on water and on land. When he WAS twenty-eight a ears old, he went to America, lie did not make his fortune. Hrstead, he served drinks and scoured brass in a Sixth Avenue *aloon. Now' he ha* married amt i* living in England with his wife and two children. “lie has probably recovered," says Mr. Tridon. “from his acute and seeniinglv chronic attacks <»f Wanderlust." ‘‘llie Tragedy of Nan," though given a few performance.* «b\ Granville Barker, reached its real audience’ through itpublication in Look form in 1909. Next year came “U he Tragedy of Pompey the Great.’ (hie a picture of a noble Roman. |he other of a loving, anguished Eiigli<h peasant girl, they are alike, awarding BO the New York “Bookman," in that the tnethods of the author are those of the |>oet Father than of the worker in prose, t<nd iu that they embody (he essence of fnodern 1 raged/ the failure to achieve fr‘lie’s mission, whether it he Pompey’s nnugnilice nt work for the Homan State Nau’s destiny as happy wife and pnother. Jt is the author of “Nan." however, that \laM-firld finally emerges from obscurity. The acenes are laid on a small farm in Severn, and all the characters u’ae tfho uncouth dialect of the did riel. The year is IBHi, vvlrm men were xtill hung l-»r sheep stealing ami often upon flimsy rxideina*. One of these victims ’of the law * severity wa* the father of Nan Hardwick, whose story makes J he play*. »S||O ha* been f ikcn in by her uncle, a thill, but kindly, peasant whose shrewish if. hI v>, ..ficr uu.l- . ofily on general (uduciple*. but :m a possible rival to her

wu daughter, 1n love ’with Dick (hiTv’ll. Fdr.Dick, a village hedonjet. a rustic* voluptuary. luv<«m Nan, and in the first act the aunt, rummaging the girl’s coatpocket, find* a xerse*of Dick’s in her honour, quite bad enough poetry to indicate real devotion. After goading the girl, naturally' gentle and loving, almo*t to the murder-point by skilful ‘tauntd and insults, “Russian in their .savage realism, but without the Slavic element of pity," she sets her daughter Jenny', who is not especially ill-disponed io her cousin, to extract from her a confe.snion of her feeling for Dick. Gradually' the girl confides in the friend she needs so much for her anguish and her J°y» When the cold-eyed Jenny' aaks: ’Do you love him veifz much?” she breathes: ‘‘Jt-s feel like my' ’eart was in ilovver." The <*tory <told, Jenny goes giggling to toll her mother: ‘ IVll have ?o watch it." The second act shows the same kitchen ready for the party, for which Dick Gurvil comes earliest. Nan brings him cake and cider. Dick: I’d ought do be a-waiting o.i yon, not you a-waiting o.u me. Only I ’aren’t any angel-cakes ’rre. None but angel-cakes *d be lit eating lor you, Nan. Nan: Oh, now'. I wonder bow many' girls you’ve made that sja-e-di to. Dick: None, .1 never. Nan: Well, 1 hope you like your cake. Dick: It be beautiful. A spice-cake, when it he split and buttered, and just set to the fire, r>o as the butter runs I don’t mean to toast it; but. just set it io the fire, and then just a sprinkle of sugar to give it a taste. It go down like roses. Like kissing a zweet ’cart at ’arvest time. When the girt moon be zhinlng. Nan: If they be all that to you. Air. Dick, you must ’aye another. . . . ’Ave another drop of zider. Dick: Your zider be too peert, Alis«i Nan. 1 like zider to be peert. like 1 likes my black puddens to be done, up to a point. But zider’s peeit ’s this—--1 tell you what it w'aiit. It want to ’are a apple roa.st therein, and a sod toast therein, and then it’want to *avc a nutmeg grated ever so light, not rough, yer know'. Ami then it be made mellow', like—like tart of a Sunday, Nan: Why', Air. Dick, you’d ought to have been a cook, T think. Dick: Aly' father say io inc: ‘‘Mind thy r innards,” he say. Very partikier about his innards dad wore. I learned about innards from him. Nan: It be wonderful to *ave a father to do for. To think as he knowed ’ee when you were a little un. I think as perhaps he give up lots o’ things, so’s you might fare to bo great in the world. Dick: Aly dad never give up. *E said ‘e try r it once, jinst to try like. It never’d 'ave suit my' dad. Nan: It be always *ard for a man to give up, even for a child, they say. But a woman ’as to give up. You don’t know'. You never think per’aps what a woman gives up. She give* up ’er beauty' and ’er peace. She given up ’er share of joy' in the world. All to bear a little one; as per*aps’ll not give ’er bread when ’er be wold. Dick: I wonder women ever want io ’ave children. They be so beautiful avore they ’ave children. 'They ’ave their red checks so soft. And sw'pet lips so red’s red. And their eye.s bright, like stars a-zhining. And oh, such while soft ’ami*. Touch one of ’em ami you ’ave like >hoots all down. Bean-ti-vuL Love-lee. Nun: It be a proud thing to ’ave beauty to raise love in a man. Dick: And .»t<er. I seen the, same girls, with thvir ’aads all rough <»f xvashing-day, and their fingers all scarred of stitching. And their cheeks all flagging and sunk. And lip* all bit. And there they do go with the barkache on cm. Pitiful, I call it. Dragging their old raggy skirts. And the baby crying. And little Saircy fell in the yard, and ’ad ’er ’air mucked. Alt! t gh! it «ro 1<» my *eart. Nan: Ah. but (hat ben’t the all of love, Air. Dirk. It l»r *ar<l to see beaut v gone, ami joy gone, and a light ’cart broke. But it be w underfill for to ’av<‘ little ojies. To ’avr brought life into the world. To ’ave ’ad them little livo things knocking on your ’rail, all them mold Its. Ami thru t<» feed them ’.Eloless like that. Dick: I hry Ih» pretty', little ones be. avhen they be kep( clean and that. NHilts Leanty mid her charm |M»ar*M Dick. When be Mmnmera, in hii rcs(a*v of first love, “Aly licautiful. I’l] make

a song for you. my beautiful,” ahr anewers: "Y'our loving me,- *that’s «»ong enough." s. • But Jenny’s mother tells him Nan’s story, the story that he in the tifst Hush of devotion refused to hear from Nan’s lips, and shows him that hts father, who will set him up with £2O if he marries Jenny, will turn him out if he chooses the child of a hanged man. She torments bis ease-loving nature with pictures of homeless trampers under a hedge till he cries: “Don’t! —I can’t! Yes. it’s Jenny', Jenny. Like ’aviu’ a cold ]>oltice!" And when the guests come in the aunt, before the astonished Nan, announces the betrothal of Jenny and Dick. □’he last act open* with a scene of poignant lyric beauty between Nan in her young despair and the* aged fiddler Gaffer, long ago crazed by the death of his bride, the “white Ilovver" he ha* ever I‘ince celebrated in mystic phrases. lie tells of the harvest tide that coim\* up for somcqne very time —“Jt had my rower one t imp,”—and alternately, in phrases of melting melody, they trace the passing of the swift tide up the Severn. Smblen l.v a group of London official- appear with ncAVs of the innoc«*<ice of Nan** father now' come to light. They offer her £SO compensation money, settle the business in the most perfunctory' manner and are off to get the return coach. They will not ev'en rd ay' to see the yearly' marvel of the high .tide sweeping up from the Their brief visit has changed every’ thing. Nan is not only rehabilitated, but a “fortune’.” To the desperate, greedy* Dick she never seemed so love<*ome. He begs her forgiven?-*, beg* to be taken back; she will lake him 7f he will give the bag of money' to the a tint and say she may have it. When Dirk pauses at the door to say, “Wouldn’t it be better if us—if us just told her, with-OUt-7-” ishe. call* him to her, and say*: “J see very plain to-night Dick. 1 see light, light into you. Right down. You talk o’ them as kills. —them as leads wotnen wrong. Sinners you call ’em. But it be y’ou is the sinner. Y’ou kill people’* ’earts. You stamp them in the dust, like, worms as you tramp on in the fields. And under it all be the women, crying, the broken Avomen, the women cast aside. Tramped 011. Spat on. As you spat on me. No, no. oh no. Oh, young man in youi\ beauty -young man in your strong hunger I Avili spare those women. Spare them the hell. The hell of’tlm brqken-hearted. Die—you—die!" A* she utters the last words she. stab s him with a pastiy-knife. And as Gafi’er calls to the rushing tide *hc goes to find death an its waters.

It is the uncompromising realism, the sullen brutality of certain types, and the final Awift and curdling horror of the ■play' that lias made the deepest impression on American reviewers. “'The Bellman” says it speaks the last word of that modern desire to tell the truth con-

corning flu- barker of humanity; ‘ The Dialt’ coinrider* it un example of the lulvnnwd < realism that produced Wedekind in Germany: anil only one reviewer, himself a poet. Edward Alarkham, han •tH-eii moved to call attention to the poetie heality of the scenes between Nan and Gaffer, scenes that made the reputation, of the play abroad and upon whichMasefield’ri English laurels rest. With all its modernity the play adheres rigidly to the classic unities, hardly half a dozen

hours are dropped, between the acts, which are all on the same scene. And the strange figure of the Gaffer, whose rhapsedje speeches have nothing to do with the: rest of the dialogue, but always in their tone suggest the emotional undercurrent of the action, takes the place of the Greek chorus with a degree of success attained by no similar expedient in modern drama. " Cavalleria Rustlcana.” In the Town Hall last week, before a brilliant and appreciative audience, the Auckland Choral (Society gave its last concert of the present season. Fully 3,000 persons were present, and the audience at times was roused to great enthusiasm. Mascagni’s melodious melodrama “Cavalleria Rustieana” in concert form was the work submitted, and a very enjoyable and successful interpretation was obtained of this tuneful composition. Madame Wielaert and other soloists received quite an ovation. The society will do well Io include at least one opera in each years course. Well chosen were the soloists, but the brilliant and artistic work of Madame Wielaert easily' secured her the premier place in the concert, her performance standing out on quite a different plane Io the other vocalists. All her solos were delivered without the aid of book—in fact, she really acted the character, and 1 brew herself heart and soul into her musie. In several instances the eantatriec rose Io great dramatic heights, and in the softer and gentler scenes she sang with extreme grace, purity of voice, and clearance of utterance. Madame Wielacrt’s effort on this occasion stands preeminently above anything sire has yet ai hit ved in Auckland. Miss Gwenyth Evans as Lola was most successful; she sang with clearness, her voice carried admirably, and she was well suited to the part. She gave a lluent and pleasing delivery of “Close to My Beating Heart,” and was heard to advantage in the trio, “Stay With Your Lover,” which she sings with Santuzza and Tut'dilu. .Miss Margaret .Mackenzie, by her unexaggerated portrayal of the anxiety of Tiiriddu’s mother, helped the scenes in which she had a share. She sang expressively in the duo with Santuzza, “Tell Me, Mother’” gave with distinctness the recitative “All, My' Friend,” was most devotional in “O Thou Mother of Sorrow,” and was successful with the tenor in the part where he takes leave of his mother, and in the dramatic “Turiddit is Killed.” The tenor, Mr James Calvert, has a. voice of good strength which he uses .successfully. He threw a good deal of energy' into his perforinano.?; and, generally, his work was praiseworthy. Ho gave the Sicilians.” to a pretty harp accompaniment with marked effect, the famous Milo “See the Merry Wine” was delivered with the necessary abandon and spirit, and in the scene with Aliio he was convincing. He also gave a carefully’ expressive performance of "I Know That I Have Wronged Thee” to a delightfullyplayed ’cello obligato by Mr J’aque, ami was unusually successful in the scene where he bids farewell to .his mother. Mr Sidney Williamson made a capable Milo. He sang with line dramatic force “Ah, Faithless Traitor's,” and appeared to advantage in “You Are Welcome” an I soettred a success with the tenor in the duo “Have You Something to Tell I here, was an excellent orchestra, which gave meritorious performances of the extremely' effective and picturesque "ri.hestration. Specially’ pleasing was the graceful way' the celebrated “Intermezzo” "as played, and it was encored. The Introduction with its changes of tempo leeeived careful consideration, and generally acceptable were the accompaniments Miss Whitelaw acted as leader, tasteful obligatos- were supplied by Mr Paque on the ’cello. 'lhere is not very much work for- the • '"ins to do; and with few exceptions the singers gave good leads, sang ac--1 "lately and worked up dramatic climaxes. Specially' pleasing was the renm ring secured of “Sweetly the Birds” hy Ihq ladies’ choir. I’rior to the performance of the opera Mr W. T. Sharp gave with marked sue“•■ss on the grand organ Giiilmant’s "•■niiul Chorus in I) Major” and Floyd •L St. Clair’s “Meditation in D Flat,” alter whieh Im was warmly applauded. Ur \\. E. Thomas ably' conducted, and 1 Smt t I oh die, the secretary,'admirably attended to the wants of the subConcert. ihe Auckland Li edr rt a f el’s third con* «ert q| U|e season attracted a large

audience last week, the Town Hall proving just adequate to accommodate all that wished admission. An exceptionally pleasing programme was presented, all the items being attractive and of excellent nature. Some 72 singers faced the audience, and all through their part; songs were delivered in a manner which gave evidence of thoughtful preparation. .Much regard was paid to nuance and phrasing, while the intonation and enunciation were other commendable features, Several new qhoruses were sung, and the other selections rendered have not been given by the society for some years past. The choir opened with Fischer's “The Hunter’s Love,” whieh received a praiseworthy performance.’ The voices blended nicely, the leads were attacked with precision, and a sportive and joyous reading was given of the words. Hugo Jungst’s serenade, "Come, Zephyr, Gently,” was delicately vocalised, and the disturbed rhythm charmingly’ exhibited, while the sustained singing and attention given to accentuation and marks of expression all aided in making the interpretation of a delightfully-written composition most" enjoyable. So pleased were the listeners with the music ami the rendering that a repeat was demanded. The martial’chorus by ’Maunder, "The Song of the Northmen,” with its changes of key and rhythm, gave the executants something to sing, ami they came through the ordeal most satisfactorily. The intricate opening was steadily delivered; the two divisions of basses gave their descending passage iil unison nicely’ together, and the tenors in their high intervals sang well. The alterations of key and time were commendably achieved,’ while the emphasis and note values received due consideration. Very well delivered was Franz Abt’s "Slumber Hangs O’er the Drowsy' Valley,” special features being excellent intonation, good part-singing, grace of phrasing, nice tone timbre, beautiful low notes by the second basses - specially the sustained F, and E Flat — and delicate pianissimo*. Very charming indeed was Hie gentle ami suave way the last verse was given. Henry Smart’s “Queen of the Night- a composition of large was also most creditably delivered. The first part was given with spirit anil freedom, and generally the voices blended pleasingly. The basses and tenors gave the solo portion carefully, while the leads amt tone quality were good in the subsequent concerted part. Bishop’s serenade, "Sleep, Gentle Lady,” was very' tenderly treated. The Largo received a nieely sustained performance, the graces of vocalisation were elegantly’ executed by the voices responsible for the alto section, a playful and lightsome delivery’ was given of the Allegretto, the detached singing being specially commendable, while a most satisfying pianissimo was secured of the closing bars. The executants were • honoured with a hearty encore at its termination. Hatton’s "Going Away” proved a most enjoyable selection. The first verse was given with abandon anil gaiety’, and the second, with its change of mood, was delivered in a manner in sympathy with the text. L. De (Jail’s “Evening” brought to a close a very enjoyable musical performance. Mrs Nelson Levien gave effective renderings of .Meyerbeer’s "Roberto, Tit the Adoro,” and Cyril Scott’s "Blackbird’s Song.” Mr Herbert Bloy, the gifted solo violinist, gave highly interesting and artistic performances of Mendelssohn’s "Andante and Finale,” and Max Briteh’s receiving after each enthusiastic encores. Gowen’s “Resting” was nieely' rendered by' Missqs L. Gardner, G. Evans and Misses A. H. Ripley and Bellow, after which they were recalled; they were also heard in Eggleston’s "Woodland Serenade.” Dr W. E. Thomas conducted, and fhe aeeouwMnists were Miss .Mills and Mr Whittaker. Madame Kirkby Lnnns Concert. It is only- once in a. while that we get a really great artist to visit these shor< s when at the very zenith of her powers, but so far Messrs J. and N. Tait cannot be credited with having introduced any artist who is not really’ in the first Hight in his or her particular class. One cannot, of course. compare with any degree of accuracy the merits of the artists the firm lias imported. For instance, the’ " Besses o’ th’ Barn” Band eoul.l • hot ' be 1 compared- with Jean Gerardy, nor could one place such an artist as Leonard Berwick alongside that clever performer. Miss Mapgaret Cooper, or Mark Ha mlmiirg. beside the Huddersfield Bellringers, but tlp-y afe all at the top of their class. That is what the Taits claim for MaJame Kirkby Luiiu.

She is the foremost English operatie and concert contralto now before the pubiiej and not only do her managers elaini this, Smt every English critic has substantiated it in black and white, she comes to New Zealand in the full bloom of her ppwers, with nothing impaired, but with an artistic equipment, polished by years of experience, and a voice of golden quality-, full and fresh in all its registers, and a temperament and mental restraint which is astonishing. Here at last is a singer who can give the fullest value to every phase of the vocal art, and never once run riot emotionally. The three concerts which are being given in Auckland take place at the Town Hall on November 25, 27, ami 30. " On Our Selection.” Most people are familiar with Steele Rudd’s popular sketches of the life of the backblocks selector, and the stage production of “On Our Selection” was bound to attract interest. The large audience which witnessed the opening performance by the Bert Bailey' Dramatic Company at His Majesty's Theatre on .Monday night gave unmistakable evidence of their appreciation. Needless to say the humorous element is the outstanding feature, and it is this and the backblocks atmosphere which gives the play its claim on public interest. The plot itself is a rather com mon place, melodramatic story, which, however, servos its purpose in linking up the comedy’ scenes and giving the necessary continuity of interest. Mr Bert Bailey plays Dad with extreme cleverness. His portrayal of a rough but plucky old pioneer was always in the picture, and his comedy work was equally good. His uncouth sons, Joe and Dave, were both cleverly portrayed by Sir A. Bertram and Mr F. MacDonald, the latter being particularly good. Mr Guy Hastings made his first appearance in Auckland, and created a very favourable impression by his quietly reserved acting. Mr Edmund Duggan was a humorous Hibernian, and Mr <!. Kensington, the necessary' villain of the piece, must be commended for his work. Favourable mention must also be made of the work of Air J. P. Lennon, Miss Alfreda Bevan, .Miss Laura Roberts, Miss Queenie Sefton, and .Miss Lilias Adeson. Aliss Alary Marlowe, as Kate Rudd, was at times rather unconvincing, but she improved as the play' progressed. The piece is well mounted and staged, ami will find favour with large audiences during the Hie company’s tour of New' Zealand. -“On Our Selection” will be staged each night until further notice. Concert to Lady Islington. A farewell concert to her Excellency Lady’ Islington has been arranged by' the Young Women's Christian Association, to take place on Tuesday, November 211, in the concert chamber of the Town Hall. West's Pictures. The big attract ion at the Royal Albert Hall this week is a Him abounding in sensational happenings, entitled "The Leap to Death.” An idea of the thrilling events which are unfolded in this story of romance and adventure may be gauged from the fact they include an escape by balloon, a chase by motor-ear and a daring leap by a man on horseback from the deck of a vessel. It is being show n exclusively at the Royal Albert, and taken in coil junction with the humorous and other pictures which are included in the programme, should prove a big draw. Returned to Auckland. Herr and Madame Pechotsvh . have returned to Auckland from their visit to Sydney, and have resumed teaching at their studios, Mutual Life Buildings, Queen Street, Auckland. Stray Notes. Commenting on the performance of "Elijah” at the Birmingham Festival, the "Pall .Mall Gazette” says that it is hardly 'an exaggeration to say that Air. Clarence Whitehill is the Elijah of the div. He was magniticently dramatic and nobly iiligious in the best sense, and vocally ho was superb. • Mr. John McCormack, Miss Carrie Tnbb, and Mme. Clara Butt are amongst the other soloists who gave notable performances. Last mouth the death occurred of Miss Frances All’ll sen. the popular composer, at the age of sixty-three years. Perhaps the best known of her many compositions are "There's a Land,” siiirg by Mme. Clara Butt, ami "The Song of Thanksgiving," sung by Mme.’ Clara Butt and Mme. Nordiea; "Prime Ivan’s .Song” (the words of slik-li are taken

from Miss Marie < 'uiclli's novel, ,"A Roma nee' of Two Worlds") Was also a popular favourite. Aliss Allit.seu com posed a good deal of serious and religions music, including the overtures for full score, "Slavonic” and "I inline," a suite de ballet, a sonata, a “Funeral March in Memory of General Gordon,” the Psalms, "Like as the hart desireth,” "The Lord is my Light," ami the sacred songs, "Praise thou the Lord. t) my Soul,” and “Lift thy Heart.” At the time of Hie South African war "There’s a Land” had a tremendous boom, and hundreds of tlioussuds of copies were sold. Madame Clara Butt’s teacher at the Royal College of Music, Mr. Henry Blower, died last month. He had battled for a considerable time against au incurable disease, doing his work, under great dillleulties, up to the end of the summer term. Mr. Blower joined the staff of the Royal College in 18815. It was in 1892 that Madame Clara, Butt, who had studied with him for three years, came out at the Albert Hall in "The Golden le-gi-nd.” and in the same week sang in the Royal College's performance of Glu.-k's "Orpheus” at the Lyceum Theatre. Among his other pupils was Mr. Spencer Thomas. Harcourt Beatty will appear in . the J. C. Williamson production of “Mile stones” which is to be staged in Sydney with Julius Knight in the star part.