BEECHAM CHOOSES N.Z. SOPRANO FOR LEADING ROLE

New Zealand Listener, Volume 28, Issue 719, 24 April 1953, Page 6

BEECHAM CHOOSES N.Z. SOPRANO FOR LEADING ROLE

"Most of the singers I introduce to the public are entirely unknown," says Sir Thomas Beecham. "They are not however, unknown 24 hours afterwards." The critic, apparently respect his judgment, too, which should augut well for Edna Graham, the Christchurch soprano wha has been chosen by Sir. Thomas to sing the principal role at the first performance of Delius’s opera "Irmelin" next month. Some background to the opera (and to Sir Thomas) is supplied in the article below, received from a "Listener" correspondent in London.

HE invitation to the Gondoliers Room at the Savoy Hotel said that "the briefest possible memtion" would be made of Delius’s opera Irmelin, which will be produced for the first time by Sir Thomas Beecham in May. Na one expected the allusion to be brief and no one was disappointed, for the conductor’s spoken prose is better than what most men write and the Beecham wit can be worth a guinea a word. Can any good music be expected in this age? Can infant prodigies conduct erchestras? Can butchers be considered respectable? These were only some of the questions answered in Sir Thomas’s sparkling 25 minutes. And "Can I go away now?" asked his manager, Mr. Alfred Nightingale. This question was prompted by Lady Beecham pleading: "Please don’t stand on that chair, Tom darling. Sit on the table." Sir Thomas had climbed on to the seat of one of the Savoy’s spindlylegged chairs the better to address the

gathering of musicians, music-lovers and critics -he would be the first to insist that they are distinct classes. As he leaned by Mr. Nightingale’s shoulder, he replied: ; "No, you" can’t. I’ve had two cocktails. Besides, you know I’m notoriously unsteady" — a reference to the occasions when he has apparently found a podium a precarious perch. Delius, who was _ his friend, he said is one of the modern’ composers who annoys him least. He was a mature composer from the start and

Sir Thomas had discovered that the Delius Trust is receiving far more fees than it used to. This shows either that Delius’s work is becoming more popular or that people are sending the fees without playing the music. Knowing the musical

world, he rejected the second possibility. | "Apart from 200 or so other works, he composed six operas. Two have been given, occasionally and then put on the shelf. Four have never been heard;

Irmelin is one of them. When I have finished with it, it is not likely to be performed anywhere again. ‘Take that either way," he said with an assertive flick of his goatee beard. The opera is a variation on the theme of the princess and the swineherd. "She was a very nice young woman. She had 100 offers of marriage and refused the lot -I may say entirely unrealistic and unmodern." It runs for about 110 minutes. "Of course, we spin it out to nearly three hours, and give everyone a chance to recuperate at the bar." The singers? "Most of the singers I introduce to the public are entirely unknown. They are’ not. however, unknown 24 hours afterwards. "So long as I am able -and I may not be able long, due to © circumstances beyond my con-trol-there will be no Delius opera produced in this country without adequate singers," said the 73-year-old conductor. Someone recalled that Sir Thomas had once complained that opera in Britain was in the hands of butchers. "Butchers,"

he replied, in mock anger,’ "fare a very respectable class. They have been known to have emotional lapses." [;-ROM the respectable Irmelin, he turned to speak about another muchdiscussed. young lady, eight-year-old Giannella de Marco, the Italian prodigy conductor now in Britain. It only showed that the business of conducting was a mechanical affair and that conductors would have to look to their jobs. "Obviously anyone can get up and conduct so that the orchestra plays, one may say not in obedience, but in spite of them, yet with a certain competence." A friend of his in South America had trained an orang-utan to conduct and was proposing to send it on tour dressed as a Red Indian, but "the Royal Philharmonic Society, which hag a sense of dignity I find overpowering, may not care to take part." Sir Thomas gave his reasons for believing that Turandot was the last good opera, and that there may not be another good one in our time. How brief, he said, was the period in which the Greeks wrote their great plays; briefer still the period of the Elizabethan dramatists. It was a wonder that the age of the great composers had lasted for more than two centuries, Why should it continue? "No one has written a good tune for 25 years, and it is certain that in the next 25 years no one will write’ a good tune again," he asserted. "But do as I do-view the prospect with calm and equanimity." With that Sir Thomas stepped down off the delicate Savoy chair, and it was time for lesser musicians-and musiclovers and critics-to have their say all at once.

J. W.

Goodwin