In the Wake of the Week's Broadcasts

Radio Record, 3 June 1938, Page 6

In the Wake of the

Week's Broadcasts

THERE’S A LOT IN THE CHOICE

There are radio singers, just us tiers are concert platform performers who. it seems to me, do not give due attention to the choice of song most likely to suit their voices. A casein point, The other night from

8YA I heard Miss Myra Sutton, contralto, with a pleas ing, deep yoice iu

"Lithuanian song (C(nopin), "toe Streamlet" (Mortelmaus), and "Night in May" (Brahms). Her top notes did not come over the air as well as they might have done, had she chosen a more robust type of song, giving her an opportunity now and then to forsake legato for greater tempo and power. The performance was pleasing but, fer real effect, a contralto must make a wise selection, Here's where ITssie

Ackland shone, and captured Christchurch.

NOT TOGO MUCH OF ROBESON.

Last Sunday I thought the millennium had been reached. 4ZB played the same record twice in one day! farly in the morning Paul Robeson sang "Congo Lullaby," and again in

the late affernoon the record was replayed. Personally. I haven't the slightest complaini,

J think that is one of Robeson’s finest numbers, rendered with feeling and sincerity, 1nd if I hear it any time I invariably stop what I am doing just to listen, The song, of course, is derived from the picture "Sanders of the River," in which it was sung by Nina

Mae McKinney. First time 1 heard Robeson sing it I thought it odd, as it seemed then more a woman’s song. But that reaction was only momentary; Robeson has made it very definitely his song, and if 4ZB choose to put it over 12 times in the one day I would stil! listen.

SHORTHAND NEEDED iN THE HOME?

There is no doubt that some industrious people go to much trouble to dramatise the ordinary affairs of ii’e and exploit the romance of everyday things for the benefit of radio listeners.

A good example of this was given in &@ 27,5 women’s session the other morning. when 4

lady took pains to explain how fea plantations came into being from the

jungle stage, and gave, in addition, a quite illuminating lecturette on the history of the common or garden chair. All this was admirable, but when the speaker came to the recipe, I thought in my artless male way that no listeter save a slick shorthand-writer would stand a chance of getting it down, notwithstanding the fact that the recipe was repeated at the same pace, In some of the educational sessions, |¢eturers tell the children to write down important notes, and actually write them with them to ensure enough time being given those ut the loudspeaker end of ‘the business. Some one fold ie that this was the method used by the dynamic Aunt Daisy. I was glad to hear that, and to know that she was never in too great a hurry to get the result aimed at. Will the 2ZB lady please accept this weil-meant suggestion?

PERHAPS IT WAS A PIPE-OPENER,

Perhaps it was just a "pipe-opener." that group of ballads by Frederick Collier, Australian bass-baritone on ‘tour of the NBS, sung from 2YA on Friday night. As an average listener,

I was frankly disappointed. There was a tightness in the throat and an

uneertainty in some of the notes that surprised me. He sang much better on Sunday night. but, considering his reputation and standing, he needed to.

PROSE READING AS IT SHOULD BE

With scones and macaroni cheese, I have lately been taking Leon Gotz in the 2ZB luncheon sessions-and enjoying him sometimes as much as the meal. This announcer of bits and pieces-iu more

senses than one. for he has lost parts of limbs and

an eye in this world -has an unaffected masculinity of voice which is refreshing, and he never gives me that uncomfortable feeling of being aged "two and = a peanut" which other commercial announcers do. He doesn’t talk down to his lis: teners and his jokes escape puerility But Leon Gotz is really "tops" in the reading sessions about 1.45 p.m, every day. At present he is wading through o. .

au rather difficult Dickens passage of not much possibility-yet I have seldom enjoyed Dickens more. University professors and others please note: this announcer is fay and away the best prose-reader I have yet heard in New Zealand-over the air or not. I only wish he were given more profitable material. a2

NOT TOO MANY OF YOUR TRICKS.

Talking of commercial announcers reminds me of a grievance that is beginning to bite into my temper. Commercial announcing, by its very nature, demands that the voices possess individualitry. In the

commercial field, mannerisms not encouraged at the national stations

are an asset, becoming as familiar and (leur to listeners as a trick of smiling or a rugged cherrywood in a film personality. Aunt Daisy is the supreme example. Her emphatic enthusiasms have made her the greatest radio personality in New Zealand. Bnt remember, commercials, that everyone can’t vet away with it so successfully. I’m mentioning no names, but watch lest your tricks of voice become too pronounced and annoy more people than they please.

THE WOMEN WILL LIKE THIS.

Station 2YA will be winning a large block of women listeners with its new daily session bs "Margaret," broadcast at 10.45 am. This speaker has a voice rhat is rather too light and high to

be ideal, but her material is excellent. For housewives it is practieal, straight talk-

ing abuvut all the thousands of details that seem to make 2 woman yearn for emancipation and service flats.

STRING LOVERS WERE MADE HAPPY

Klgar’s delightful "Sea Pictures," ax pluyed by the 3YA Orchestra under Gil Dech, the other night. made up = a programme highlight. The softly-flow-ing melodies with their restful se-

quences, allower the orchestra to produce a remarkable organ-like tone. Just as a 4

hymn is supposed to be the "test" for a brass or military band, so, with an orchestra, legato works are most difficult. Unfortunately, I missed the other items by the orchestra, but, if the Elgar uumbers were anything to go by, lovers of the strings were given a happy evening, A

GREAT HEIFETZ AND TWO STORIES

Fron) 2YA the other Sunday afternoon, I heard a recording by Heifetz. the violinist. The musie was one of those old-time suites by Vivaldi, or, to give it the full-dress title, "Sonata in

A major’ (Vivaldi. arr. Buseh), a blithesome affair that took only six minutes to play.

und proved how alive can be the music of an old Italian who died nearly two centuries ago. Tt reminded me of two stories of Heifetz. We is said to he appearing ina film some time this year, uta cost to the film company of sowe £50,000. This would suggest a Helfetz

who knew his value. That Heifetz is a very fair-minded man, however, is proved by ‘the second story of a re cent contract to broadcast’ from anAmerican radio station. He named his fee under the impression that he was to play for an hour. ‘The fee was dgreed upon. When the day and the time of the recital were sent to him Heifetz found he was to play for only 15 minutes. Thereupon Heifetz told them that he considered the time set wag too short, and the fee too large.

PAID TRIBUTE FOR HIS RACE.

Sometimes I think that nobody should be allowed to speak over the air in New Zealand but Maoris with their slow, unhurried, and melodious diction. Latest time this unpractical desire took me was when I lis-

tened to Bishop Bennett talk last week from 2YA on the "Life of Samuel

Marsden." When no hard-headed skipper of those early days would take a2 ship from Sydney to the land of Maori massacre, Marsden took his Own ship, ° in November, 1814, with a motley crew of savages, Christians, teachers and tradesmen, as well as a horse, two mares, a bull and two cows, sheep and poultry. The Maoris, who had heard of him, received him with kindness. "Never once, in his seven visits,’ was his life in danger. They called him. in their tongue, "Father." It would have pleased that old missionary, surely, whose life was lived for the Maoris, to hear a Bishop of that race paying tribute to his memory.

"HE 1S SLAPPING HIM ON THE STOMACH"

Is nothing sacred nowadays? Move ing round the dial one evening last week I heard a man’s voice burst out in excited tones. "He’s slapping him on the stomach. There, hear that?" Some amazing ana-

tomical detatis about Messrs. Paf ‘Fraley, 16st. 3lb..

and Joe Tonti, lost. olb., were flung through the microphone. Here are a few samples: "He’s standing on his face just to get a little more leverage; now he’s walking back ta his corner and taking a gargle of water from a bottle; his back is a beautiful crayfish tint. Ab, there goes a pile-driver-hear the bump?’ And so on. A friend who was listening in with me, and who is nof radio-sophisticated, said, "Upon my soul, what is it all about?’ J told him it was wrestling at the Theatre Royal, Christchurch, and that & capacity house, with a number of ladies in the crowd, was watching twe brawny gentlemen getting eross with each other and not bothering to hide their feelings. My friend said he supposed the sport called for physical fitness and was therefore to be encouraged. But he simply couldn’t make out the necessity for the more intimate details. I was happy to inform him that it would be a queer person who couldn’t get a thrill out of a hard bout and that many New Zealanders positively drank it in, both in the halls and over the air.