THE SIMPLE LIFE.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1246, 5 March 1914, Page 35

THE SIMPLE LIFE.

PAUL DUFAULT’S CREED.

That most charming of singers and most charming of men —Paul Dufault, is with us once more, entrancing with the melody of his voice and the magnetism of his personality. The gifted French-Canadian tenor stormed the citadel eighteen months ago with Cisneros, and again more recently with Nordica. At last he comes into his own.

“I’ve had a most flattering reception everywhere,” said Air. Dufault, modestly—“in Melbourne, Bendigo, Adelaide, Launceston, Hobart. Then over to the South Island —Christchurch, Dunedin, Timaru, Oamaru, Did you tell me Dunedin audiences were cold? Indeed, no! I can say otherwise. Then up to Wellington, and after that the one-night stand! Five concerts at five different towns in one week. You would not call that the simple life! Only three towns the following week. Very lazy we felt!

“To be a successful singer one must keep in good condition,” said Mr. Dufault to a “Review” representative on Monday. “It is the only way. One must lead the simple life, as it were. I consider I owe it to my public. And so I decline many invitations —the people are so hospitable—for suppers and card parties, and I keep myself fresh and in good health. When I become passe —and the tenor gave an expressive shrug—then I shall retire. Till then I will go on giving of my best. One can’t burn the candle at both ends, you know. A singer’s life is one of deprivation—a great deal of study, of care and watching. And it is a great thing too, to have the mind at rest. One must be like a little child without a care when he sings to his public.

“People say to me, ‘Oh, what a wonderful life you lead. Just to sing and receive applause!’ But I tell them No! They only see the footlights; they don’t realise the preparation and constant care. But there is no other way.” Mr. Dufault strikes no uncertain note in the matter of translations. “I don’t sing translations,” he emphasised. “I hold that you should sing your songs in the language in which they were written. A composer sets his music to his native words.

and you throw the whole thing out when you meddle with it. A translation is a misfit! As someone writes, ‘lt is like the wrong side of a piece Of embroidery.’ “I am not against opera being written in English. That is a different matter. I say it is as good a language as any to sing in. It is as smooth as any other, except the Italian and French. I love to sing in English. I understand it thoroughly and it is all nonsense to say it is not a singable language! But do have your own operas in it. That is the point. Tiake ‘Madame Butterfly.’ That is an instance of a beautiful opera in English. What I protest against is this idea of translating the masterpieces of Verdi or Gounod into English. It can’t be done. If I am asked to hear ‘Faust’ or ‘Aida’ in English, I say ‘No!’ I would rather go to moving pictures!”

Mr. Dufault believes in making his concerts quite friendly little affairs. In bis charming broken English accent he gives an explanation of his numbers, and in his encores he has adopted the much-appreciated prac-

tice of announcing the name and composer of the item, and if necessary adds a few enlightening words. “I don’t believe in boring the audience with a long screed,” he says, “but I don’t like them to be in the dark.” “I just love New Zealand, confided the tenor, “every bit of it. I love it so that some day I may come back and spend a few years. Look at your climate- It is a Garden of Eden. No severe winters, no scorching summers! A country full of possibilities.” Mr. Dufault is much impressed with the different voices he has had brought before his notice in Australia and New Zealand. “It is just the climate to produce good voices,” said the tenor. “They are ambitious, too, these singers, and it has pleased me much to find so much talent and so keen a desire for musical knowledge. They deserve to have it fostered. 1 hope the day will come when the advantages of the older countries in this respect will be brought within measurable distance of aspirants.”

Emil Biernann, who was brought from New York by J. C. Williamson, Ltd., to direct the musical section of the revue, “Come Over Here,” is known as a specialist and ragtime expert. In America he is regarded as one of the cleverest in his line, and as a composer he has made a name for himself amongst the leading composers of America.