Annotations of Annabel

Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 32, 22 February 1929, Page 13

Annotations of Annabel

EAREST: Accompanied by Victoria-at this long last with shining hair shingled to an austerity strangely according with her classic profile-I heard Mr. Mawson’s lecture on town planning, on the occasion of Conference of N.Z. Architects held last week in the Capital City. The address was given in the Art Gallery, and Mr. Moodie presided, many visitors from far afield being present; and I found myself wishing that radio listeners could have heard this illuminating causerie on a subject concerning some of us talk a great deal, arkl most.pf us know nothing at all. Privileged to be present at this exposition of benefits ultimately to be conferred by far-reaching methods of co-operation, clear-sightedness and finance, one felt a Doubting Thomas when wonder presented itself as to whether *twas all but a counsel of perfection, this vision splendid of civic beauty and utility which should prove the New Zealand equivalent of the grandeur that was Greece, and the glory that was Rome. WELLINGTON, bustling, small city and haven of many hearts, with far-flung background of hills and gracious view of shining waters across which dream ships drift, should be a microcosm of urban efficiency hedged in with such natural : eras Instead, with narrow, danerous streets, stuffy rubbish-dumps, dingy two-storied houses of a design that induces despairing depression, screaming congested traffic and almost entire absence of gardens, it is far indeed from the islands of the Hesperides or anything like that. But some day it would seem perchance this will be rectified, we shall get down from the dream to the business, and achieve sane civic mind in sane civic body; apparently not difficult of achievement by mutual toleration and liberality of comprehension and finance as advocated in Mr. Mawson’s fluent and charming periods. All persuasive to a degree, and artfully caleulated to avoid wounding the susceptibilities of huffiest city father; yet: one surmises the interesting lecturer will need "patience of wee and diplomacy of delegate to the eague of Nations" successfully to follow his grail. He concluded with whimsical surmise suggested by lat-

est Einstein bewilderment; causing one weak woman to wonder whether, in miraculous days of this century, his words held element of prophecy, A THOUSAND pities our best beautiful girls do not try their luck in screen tests. There is wealth of loveliness in this our country; likewise here and there a musical speaking voice, which may yet be heard in movietone. The latter attribute is rare, however; this weapon in armoury of feminine charm being unappreciated and untended in the Dominion’s rosebud garden of girls, who do not realise that low and modulated tones are worth all the make-up and lipstick in the two islands. Not that. our. girls are heavily rouged, Far from it. Is it that excessive artificiality of complexion begins to be recognised as vulgar? A few years back the painted and powdered countenance was a commonplace; unnatural searlet of lips often strangely emphasising latent coarseness and vacuity. Now we have changed all that, and in our midst evolves a race of lissom Atalantas, of unstudied and uncorseted grace, slim and active and athletic, who stride and dance along the road of the world, ready to climb Mount Cook, swim the Straits, and generally beat the band. Much I admire their sunburned vitality and open-eyed confronting of life, which remains the same glorious oyster for prizing open to the sound of trumpets, as when for us also Deering’s woods were fresh andfair. Were and there is a-highbrow maiden, who seriously regards herself and her vocation. And wherefore not indeed? There is one glory of the sun, another of the moon; physical beauty of athlete, mental allure of embryo litterateur. Comparisons remain odious; but perish smug superiority that belittles all outside its own ken, and refuses to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s. LARGESSE of past season of goodwill rendered me possessor of attractive diminutive collection of verse by modern poets. The anthology is selected by Mr. W. H. Davies, whose own prose and verse are distinguished by so sane a simplicity of method and matter. He is a _ born wanderer over earth’s surface, and his taste in literature extremely catholic, ranging among uncompromising and disturbing work of Siegfried Sassoon, preciosity of Edith Sitwell, the Laureate’s perfect craftmanship, or a lover’s rhapsodic She is as gold Lovely, and far more cold. Do you pray for'me, For if I win grace To kiss twice her face God. has done well to me, Your

ANNABEL

LEE