MUSIC

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1008, 26 June 1930, Page 18

MUSIC

(By

F.1.R.)

Glancing Ahead — June 2S. —Maori Concert. June DO.—Chamber Music Society, Lewis Eady Hall. July 3.—Backhaus. August 14.—Royal Auckland Choir. August 16.—Music Week commences. August.—Florence Austral. Backhaus and Memorising Following up the subject of memorising, which was dealt with at some length in last week’s column, it is interesting to note the number of compositions which Backhaus has “at his finger-tips” as well as in his mighty brain. A glance over the Sydney and Melbourne programmes during his recent seasons in Australia’s two chief cities reveals the astonishing fact that no fewer than 135 different numbers — apart altogether from encores —were played by Backhaus at those concerts! These included several concertos, 24 Beethoven sonatas, and a wide range of compositions by Chopin, Bach, Schubert. Liszt, Mendelssohn, Mozart, Brahms, Debussy, Albeniz, Smetana, Delibes and Mangiagalli. And return seasons, with entirely fresh programmes, are already announced for the chief Australian cities! By the way, Backhaus’s colossal memory is not confined to music, for the pianist seldom forgets a face and even remembers the names of mere acquaintances with whom he has come in contact in his world-wide travels. FROM THE “GODS” « * ” Young New Zealander Sees Covent Garden “A MAGIC THRILL”

Because I have come from the Colonies, you must not think I have never seen Grand Opera before. Far from it, writes A. \V. Russell, of Auckland, in the “Daily Chronicle.” Once in Auckland I saw 24 operas in three weeks. 1 could have stood no more; toward the end I was long past saturation, a mere “end-drunken, huddled dreamer.” It was a small Italian company that toured New Zealand a couple of years back. I got a job as programme boy in order to see the season. It was a pleasant affair. There were four brothers —two conductors, producer, and the double-bass, and 1 think it was the latter's wife who was in the chorus and also wardrobemistress. The principals were assorted and all young, and half the chorus ladies were Australian. They played Italian opera, except Puccini —someone else had rights over him; some French; and Lohengrin. A Roaring Trade I will confess without shame that I liked best the Masked Ball, tie Barber, and Faust. Now you know the kind of Philistine. And I fell in love with two prima donnas (Danish and Italian), a dancer (Mediterranean), and a member of the chorus (Aussie). It was to the latter that I addressed a most impudent and unprovoked, but memorable, retort. I had gone behind the scenes to render account of my programmes. "How are you getting on?” she was kind enough to ask me. "Same as you—doing a roaring trade.” She beat me with a “prop” candlestick as I fled - . . - Somehow Covent Garden was not quite the same. Frankly, I had no idea that opera could be so grand. It was tremendous. The largest orchestra I have ever seen, the largest theatre, the largest audience, the largest proscenium opening, the greatest thrills! I felt very small, very much on sufferance, seated close to the ceil iug; not half the lord of existence 1 was when I used to steal a back seat of the dress circle, with a bundle of unsaleable programmes in my hand. What can I say of the opera itself? The magic thrill of all those strings together made me forget my insignificance. the splendid voices made me soar: the pageantry gave me a child’s pleasure. As a critic of Wagner I am totally incompetent; all I know is that those four and a-half hours were a revelation. I Want An Opera Hat! But, after all, in Royal Opera the audience is half the performance, and the audience filled me with a dazzled awe. Opera is evidently a function of the first water. To gaze down from my eyrie was to feel myself a humble spectator at a rich and noble ceremony. Moreover, it was a ritual with a long ancestry, a background. The audience seemed to be composed of initiates, with very few novices such as myself. In New Zealand we were a little raw and self-conscious, not quite sure of the procedure. I was snob enough to feel that for the full relishing of this affair one must be in evening dress, well diunered. with a sumptuous lady. Like that, one would take part; otherwise one is only a spectator. In fact, 1 have a new ambition—to grace an opera hat, with all that it implies. Dreams of a box! . . . Somewhere in the next 20 years, maybe . . But I shall always cherish that wallop with a candlestick.

MAORI MUSIC

CONCERT ON SATURDAY CHOIR OF 120 Those who were present at the Maori concert held last year, and also many of those unable at the last minute to gain admittance, will look

forward with keen Interest to a concert to be staged on similar lines by the pupils of St. Stephen’s and Victoria Maori Colleges at the Town Hall on Saturday evening next. The concert wdll again be under the direction of Mr. Colin Muston, who has given a great deal of time and attention to the organising of these popular entertainments. A choir of 120 Maori boys and girls has been specially trained for this concert and an interesting and very enjoyable entertainment should result. The box plan is at Lewis Eady, Ltd. CHAMBER MUSIC MONDAY’S CONCERT The second concert by the Auckland Chamber Music Society to be given at the Lewis Eady Hall on Monday evening next will include Beethoven’s quartet, Opus 18, No. 4, and Quintet in D Minor by C. Villier3 Stanford. Songs by Mr. Barry Coney will be “Prospice” (Walford Davies), “Never Again” (Maughan Barnett), “A Soft Day” (Stanford), “The Gentle Maiden” (Somervell), “Simon the Cellarer” (Hatton). “Prospice,” a quintet for baritone voice and strings, was composed by Sir Henry Walford Davies, Mus. Doc. It is a setting of Browning’s poem, and was first sung in 1896 by Bispham. Davies was born in 1869 at Oswestry, and studied under Parry, Stanford and Rockstro. He is an organist of note, and has composed much church music, besides chamber music, cantatas, part songs and orchestral music. His setting of “Everyman” for four solo voices, chorus and orchestra, produced at Leeds in 1904, gave him a notable place in public estimation. The quintet is Miss Jean Allen (first violin), Miss Lois Walls (second violin), Miss Amy Stevenson (viola), Miss Lalla Hemus (’cello) and Miss Dora Judson (piano). LIGHT MUSIC The latest budget of songs from Allan’s contains several popular theme numbers. “Romance,” one of the principal numbers in the William Fox movietone, “Cameo Kirby,” is a romantic little ballad with a pleasing refrain Also in the sentimental class is “A Bundle of Love Letters,” a lilting number, which is featured in “Lord Byron of Broad wav.” Two light fox-trots are, “With You,' from “Puttin’ oil the Ritz,” and “Lonesome Little Doll.” The latter should prove very popular with dance bands Backhaus and his Music-Stool Backhaus, the famous pianist who will open his season in this City on Thursday, July 3, maintains that it is more difficult to secure a comfortable music-stool than it is to secure a luscious-toned grand piano—therefore he always includes his own speci-ally-designed piano-stool in his luggage. Asked recently in Sydney what were the special virtues of the stool, Backhaus replied with a genial smile: “It is really quite a clever stool—it helps me to stretch to both ends of | the piano without falling off.” An Audience of One! The most envied person on the | Orient liner by which Wilhelm Back-' haus travelled from Europe was a ; steward in charge of the empty stateroom adjoining the famous pianist’s suite. Comfortably seated in an armchair, this steward would listen for hours while Backhaus played on the j piano installed in his sitting-room for I the trip. “When the steward told me ! at Fremantle that he had been listen- ! iug to me all the way out, I felt sorry j in a way that I had not known of this j invisible audience of one. I might j have played better for him, bad I known how interested he was,” remarked Backhaus with the simplicity of manner that is one of his most charming qualities.