Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 4, No. 10 (1930-07)

The Phonograph Monthly Review 351 July, 1930 It would be difficult to select a cast better qualified, by birth,. talent, training, and. experience, to sing this opera. The splendid tenor of Hipolito Lazaro, and the resonant bass and clear enunciation of Jose Mardones have been heard in the United States. Mercedes Capsir, soprano, and Mar- cos Redondo, baritone, while’ not known here; are favorites in Spain' and Latin America. Each one gives V splendid performance. While Marina (which has never been performed rin Ameri- ca), is not of as great importance from an ethnical stand- point as some of the other Spanish operas, it is almost ideaJ as an introduction by phonograph to Spain’s lyric drama. As such, and as a work of beauty, and an example of fine recording, it is sincerely recommended. W. S. Marsh The Argentine Opera Victor (Spanish list) . Masterpiece Set S-2 (3 D12s, Alb., $5.00) Boero: El Matrero (The : Cunning One), sung by Nena Juarez, contralto; Pedro Mirassou, tenor; • Apollo Granforte, .baritone; with the orchestra ©f Teatro Colon, Buenos Aires, under the direction of Hector Panizza. Although Argentina is usually considered a Spanish coun- try/Spanish being its language, the Spaniards do not pre- dominate, other nationalities 'being largely represented. Its capital, Buenos Aires, the center of things cultural, is fam- ous for its opera; and Teatro Colon, the municipal theater, is one of the principal opera houses, with a large perman- ent staff of instrumentalists, singers, and dancers. Here have appeared the most noted qperatic singers of the world. As pari: of an effort to promote the music and musicians of Argentina, there were presented last season, by the di- rectors of Teatro Colon, three operas by Argentine com- posers. Of these three, the one which was received with greatest enthusiasm, as being the most national in charac- ter, in music and in subject matter, was “El Matrero” (The Cunning One). This opera is by the well-known Argentine composer, Felipe Boero, of Buenos Aires. The libretto, by Yamandu Rodriguez, the Uruguayan poet, is based on a legend origi- nating with the primitive people of Uruguay. In this leg- end, “El Matrero” was originally a youthful hero, wise, strong, and courageous, who was wont to go galloping across the pampas. Imagination later gave him more the character of a mysterious brigand, possessing that charm which always accompanies wickedness. Pontezuela, a country girl, hearing a bird’s nest fall as she is returning home at dusk, believes it to be “El Ma- trero”; and this incident arouses a train of imagination which, in her girlish heart, develops into a deep love for the legendary hero. But her father, Don Liborio, has promised her in marriage to Pedro Cruz, a poet and min- strel, if he will give up the life of a troubador and settle down to work. However, Pontezuela, with her imaginative love ever growing stronger, has no use for Pedro. About this time,'- the laborers on the ranch, in order to find “El Matrero,” set fire to-the reed grass surrounding the estate. Pedro rushes out from the flames, bleeding and burned, is admitted to be “El Matrero” himself, and falls dead before Pontezuela—a sad awakening from her dream of love. Here are certainly the elements, in drama, romance and realism, for a good opera. In listening to the music so excellently recorded on these three disks, what first -impresses one is its melodic beauty, Those. who seek the. dissonance of modernism will listen in vain; for the national songs and dances, noon which this opera is based, are not so constructed* Each side of the three records contains attractive melodies, from Part 1, ‘*La Media Cana” (almost entirely given to the or- chestra which, after a brief vocal introduction, swings into a movement in triple time, in the form of a pericon, one of the national dances) ; to. Part 6, a trio from the third act. in which comes the inevitable tragedy, and which ends with a lovely andante religidso. The orchestra is Conducted ‘by Maestro Panizza, a tech- nical director of Tratro. Colon' who was born in Buenos Aires of Italian patents. He is a composer of operas him- self, with a long experience as operatic 'conductor in vari- ous cities in Italy,' England, and Sotffh America* and in these recordings he directs the orchestra with precision, and a full knowledge of‘operatic reouirem^nts. The ‘'inf- ers are adequate for the various parts which they essay. If there are those who have the impression that the mu- sic of Argentina consists entirely of tangos, these records will disabuse their minds of this idea. They are worthy a place in the library of all lovers of music and opera; and it is to be hoped that their sale will be large enough to encourage the recording of the works of more South American composers, of which there are many of bril- liancy and talent, more especially in the field of instrumen- tal composition. W. S. M. Erik Satie — Three Men in a Tub Gymnopedie No. 1 (orchestrated by Debussy), played by sevitzky. Victor 7252-B (fourth side of the Ravel Bolero the Boston Symphony Orchestra conducted by Serge Kous- records). Trois Pieces Montees, played by a symphony orchestra conducted by Pierro Chagnon. French Columbia D-11016 (one side). Je te veux—Valse Lente, played by Jean Wiener, pian- ist. French Columbia D-15005 (one side). Satie is three different things: and these three records are an explication. If we remember his amusing but mislead- ing whiskerage and remember that much of his reading was in Plato, Raymond Radiguet, and Hans Christian Anderson, we shall know enough to begin with. Satie was a comic in chords and a wit in scales: some of his music brings up a burden of self-applause and then, suddenly, crackles with self-mockery, a self-mockery which is at once the destruc- tion and the bitter apotheosis of the subject in the music. Here we have the Trois Pieces Montees, the snickering, the grossly snickering ballet bits from Rabelais. (The first, by the way, represents L’enfance de Pantagruel; the second, Marche de Cocagne; and the third, Jeunesse de Gargantua.) It is not Rabelais, it is Satie thinking of Rabelais; it is Rabelais in petto, done with care, with delicacy, with malice; it is a little Rabelais, which exposes Rabelais. This is very serious stuff, an intensely arterial flow, but with the arter- ies a little hardened. The sonorities snap; the musicians are taut; the auditor has tough, athletic ears. But Satie was sometimes lazy and took his laughter easily. We have the waltz, pure in tone, but of damnably impure in- spiration, with the almost recondite title—Je te veux. This is a soft vapid love-piece, a piece of muffled mumery for the music hall. The air of jeu d!esprit in the ballet bits is not here. Satie deliberately resorts to the banal, perhaps, sinks into the vulgar for fun. Everything is candied. It is a lollipop this waltz, a very good all-day-sucker, worth about a nickel. The French poets of Satie’s youth used to write poems like this, and because they knew what they were do- ing their poems were transformed from the banality in which they were born and became, if you thought about them while you were reading them, ironic commentaries. Satie does not quite do this perhaps, but this waltz is not bad mu- sic; the conventionalities of his harmony and melody, all that the ear recognizes as old hat, is a little twistetd, and is a little beautiful. May be Satie was trying to write popular music, first-rate music-hall; maybe there was no other con- scious intention in the piece. If so, he did well. Good ears can listen to it, and good feet could dance to it. So far we have only two thirds of Satie, and have kept the best till last: Debussy’s orchestration of one of the Gymno- pedies. Here we have the Greek Satie. As in the case of Rabelais it is not pure Greek but twentieth century French- Greek; the glory of this piece is not the glory of the dance of the naked Spartan youths, it is if you like the lesser glory, and what we really want from a man’s music, the peculiar glory of a man’s feelings given excelling form. In the Gymnopedies and in the Socrate there is the shyness and the sweetness of genuine competence, and there is the mod- est simplicity of mastery—very different, .by the wav, from the bravura simplicity of the tyro or the teacher. The form of these pieces, and the content, is like the wind. There is the bulk and firmness and at the same time the continuity in evanescence, the frailty of a created thing. And this is right; for it is music dealing with the wisdom of human flesh, and flesh approximating nature. Inspiration is in the breath, we should remember, and spirit in the wind; wisdom and spirit are no parts of things; they are the air of things, the music of things—when a musician conceives them. Here we may say that it is winged mUsic and let it pass. R. P. Blackmub