THE “PEOPLE'S ARTIST”

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 114, 4 August 1927, Page 12

THE “PEOPLE'S ARTIST”

CHALIAPIN’S TITLE CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME “I am no Bolshevik, Communist, or Royalist. I know nothing of politics. I am an artist, and I sing my songs to whoever will hear them.” Thus Theodor Chaliapin, the great Russian singer, received the intimation that the Central Committee of the Bolshevist Artists’ Trade Union of Moscow had passed a resolution requesting the Commissar of Education formally to deprive him of the title of “People’s Artist” (conferred on him in the early stages of the revolution) because he had contributed 5,000 francs to the support of unemployed Russian exiles in Paris.

“I am ashamed for my country,” he he said in liis broken English. “ These Bolsheviks take the whole of my fortune when the revolution begin. Then I sing for five years to Russian people just for my food. They give me no money. I think that not good enough for an artist, so I leave to sing in other countries which were calling me. It is really funny, but I not go back to Russia, because I know not what will happen. Perhaps I have broken a law. Those laws!” “Then condemn me for giving 5,000 francs to hungry Russians in Paris, but I did not know their political beliefs. I gave the money to fill their stomachs. They must be crazy. Because I sing before your great King, am I a Royalist. Am I conspiring against the Soviet because I feed hungry Russians in Paris?” In the eyes of the Communists, charity must indeed begin at home. While on his recent tour of New Zealand, Jan Ignace Paderewski, the world-famous pianist, attended a picture theatre in Christchurch, where the orchestra that particular week was playing as an entr’acte Paderewski’s well known minuet. The pianist was so pleased with the orchestra’s interpretation of his composition that he sent his manager, Mr. L. G. Sharpe, to personally congratulate the conductor, Mr. PJrnest Jamieson, on the fact that, though larger orchestras throughout the world had played the minuet, none had done so with such excellent tempo and feeling. Mr. Jamieson is a son of an ex-Aucklander, the late Mr. John Jamieson. When she arrived in Sydney recently, Madame Alma Gluck, the famous singer and wife of Ziinbalist, the violin virtuoso, gave a “Daily Telegraph” interviewer some decided opinions on the oft-discussed topic of marriage and careers. “Women,” she said, “cannot mix artistic careers with marriage and make a success of both.” She had, she added, seen many tragedies among the children of her colleagues, simply because the parents could not exercise control. “This being a wife, housekeeper, mother and artist is not all it is said to be.” she continued. “I have not sung for a year. I felt there were lots of singers, but only one mother for my children, and I could not be both.” She could see no reason, however, why a versatile woman should not be able to follow business as well as be a wife and mother. Her argument is that in business people seldom move about in such a way as to necessitate long separations from their children. “Men,” she said, “make quite good parents, although they are at the office all day, so why shouldn’t women?” There must be a big public for the intimate art of chamber music. One of the latest examples of H.M.V. recording is that of the Budapest String Quartet in Dvorak’s Quartet in F Major, known as the “Nigger” Quartet. Dvorak’s visit to America was responsible for the matter of the composition, and although he took negro melodies and syncopation for his material he passed it through the mould of his mind and created a charming quartet which combines the old and the new in styles. The Budapest String Quartet, naturally, play it with wonderful skill, and the recording of the three discs is worthy of the work and the performance. The familiarity with the quartet, which is possible through the medium of the record, explains why this charming composition became popular.