AROUND THE WORLD WITH THE MUSICIANS

Radio Record, Volume XII, Issue 36, 17 February 1939, Page 7

AROUND THE WORLD WITH THE MUSICIANS

"At least," said the British violinist, Maurice Clave, who was in the mews when he played his violin to the passengers during the fire on board the Rimutaka recently, "I can prove to you that | am Scotch." ; it was another shipping mishap-this time in a small boat on the River Tay, near Dundee, where Maurice Clare was born. The violinist, with a small boy, was in a dinghy thet was being towed by a sailing craft. The boy cast off the rope, the sailing craft went on and the dinghy got upset im midstream. "ta the middle of the Tay," said Maurice Clare, "I remembered I had 7id i in my pocket. | swam with one hond ond kept the other hand in my pocket to make sure the 7id was still there."

™%, N board the Rimutaka } during the .eventful voyage was a friend of the Clares, who has an unusual occupation. He was a New Zealander, Mr. Sam Williams, who runs a miniature theatre in which the actors and actresses are puppets. ‘For ten years Mr. Williams has been in England, studying art, with his wife, also an artist. He was designer of the costumes for the famous Wells film, "The Shape of Things te Come."? He and his wife, says Maurice Clare, carve their own dolis and paint their own scenery. Their puppets are charming. They give real plays with their puppets, such as Marlowe’s ‘‘I*austus’’ right through. They may be touring New Zealand in three months’ time. N.Z. Tour WAURICH CLARE, too, is touring New Zealand, with his wife and his small daughter. He has been signed up by the NBS for a six-week tour which includes performances at Wellington, Dunedin, Christehurch, Auckland and Wellington. He will have Noel Newson as his accompanist. Afterwards, he is not sure of his plans. He may stay in New Zealand, if he ean find scope for his ‘specialised work, He has had his full share of the city life and suecess. He wants a less racketing world. FIRST he learned musie from his father, a professional teacher at Dundee. The father worked with him in his studies. oe, "I always seemed to be virtuous,’’ said Myr. Clare. ‘‘I liked working aj music. No doubt I was damnably priggish."’ Under Seveik Then the young violinist was sent abroad for further study for two years and a half to Seveik, famous teacher in Czechoslovakia. ‘‘Sevecik,’’ said Mr. Clare, ~ ‘‘was the man who really put violin playing on a scientific technical basis. He wrote hundreds of exercises which were practically foolproof, Tt was a sort of Pelmanism for the violin.’’ It was Seveik who had as his greatest pupils Kubelik, Erica

Morini, Marie Hall, Daisy Kennedy and Zimbalis. ‘"He was a very niece old man,’’? says Maurice Clare. ‘‘I went to him when he was 78 years old, but he was extremely wide awake and with all his faculties. ‘‘He was up at 4 or 5 in the morning to start writing out his exercises and I was often summoned for a lesson at 7 in the morning."’ Sevcik and his pupils lived in asmall Czech village and the old master even then kept a sharp eye on the pupils in his charge, His rule was that his pupils should work seven hours a day. And at all sorts’ of hours Seveik would go out, immediately after breakfast, say, or lunch, into the streets where his students lived, and have confidential talks with the owners of the houses, asking them how long their lodgers practised. "Tf you were caught out," said Maurice Clare, ‘‘he wanted to know why.’’ Memory He had an astonishing memory. He could remember without making a mistake all the work a pupil had done for three or four weeks back, and he had 30 or 40 pupils. This great teacher, blind in one eye, died three or four years ago. Kiven in those days of 1929, there was, oceasional unpleasantness with the Germans and the Czechs, said Mr. Clare. though it was shown only in small things. For instance, if a German woman eame to live in the village, she would be charged more for the things she bought. The Czechs themselves were marvellous workers and, being the race that produced and. Smetana, were excellent musicians. Wo one could play the Slav‘onic dances like the most rai-trap Czech orchestra. AFTER leaving Sevcik, the young. musician went to study with Carl Flesch, in Berlin, the greatest pedagogue in the world for the violin, though he never produced a genius. He was a Jew, now in London. His book, the’ ‘Art of Violin

Playing,’’ was described by his rival Seveik as the ‘‘violinist’s 3ible.’"’ For over a year and a half Maurice Clare studied with Flesch at Berlin and Baden Baden and then went to Georges Enesco, in Paris, the Romanian composer and violinist. ‘‘He is one of the greatest musicians I have met,’’ said Maurice Clare, who was with him in Paris and Romania. ‘‘He takes very few pupils, because he likes to get time to compose, and when you first write to him he tries to put you off by asking for a fabulous fee. ‘*But when he hears you (and likes your playing) he will reduce his fee to your means. He takes you . for less and sometimes for nothing.’’ ‘His memory was amazing. He would be teaching you a Mozart Concerto when he

would break off and say, ‘This passage is practically identical with a phrase in such-and-such an opera, in the second act, where So-and-so comes on.’ Then he would sing it to you."’ Opening Nigh? ROM Romania the violinist returned to England and joined the orchestra of the newly started Glynecbhourne Opera in the country some 80 miles out of London. Fie was there for the opening night when the venture was still uncertain and there were very few in the house. "I estimate that night there were only about 30 who paid.’’ ates er? t

But by the end of the first week it was doing very well and soon it was booked out for the season. It has been booked out ever since. ‘Everyone goes,’’? said Mr, Clare. ‘‘Toseanini goes every year he is in England. It has become the social thing to do. And the artistry is magnificent If you talk of Glynebourne. today, it is as if you talk of Glynebourne and Salzburg, the home of the great festivals, They go together.’’ In f.ondon, the young violin ist began to make his way to suecess. He joined Sir Thomas Beecham’s Philharmonie Orchestra, played at Covent Garden and for ballet. Beecham Story He rose to be sub-leader of the orchestra for six weeks and sometimes he had to lead it. Then came a short period of rest and study in solo work. He came back to London and played solo to the orchestra in ‘which he had played as a member. It was no small achievement.

he tells the latest Beecham story. The orchestra was rehearsing in the great empty, draughty London Albert Hall. Suddenly bedlam broke out -in an awful sound of hammering. Workmen were sealing pipes in the boiler-room. Sir Thomas jumped as if he had been shot. Then, as the noise suddenly ceased, he said: ‘*Gentlemen, every night during the war Il went down on my bended knees and prayed that the Germans would drop a bomb on this place and that it would be destroyed "’ The orchestra went on with its work and then, two minutes later, the noise broke out again, terrific. worse than ever. A seraphie smile came over the faee of Sir Thomas Beecham, ‘‘Gentlemen,’’ he said, ‘‘at last my dream has come true. They’re knocking the -- place down."’