In Unison

Three years ago Musical America offered a $3,000 prize for the best symphonic work submitted by a U. S. composer. Last spring Judges Walter Damrosch, Serge Koussevitzky, Leopold Stokowski, Alfred Hertz and Frederick Stock voted the prize to Ernest Bloch for a symphony named America. In late December, almost simultaneously, the five conductor-judges will give America its first performances--Dec. 20 in Manhattan and San Francisco, Dec. 21 in Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago. Other major orchestras may lift their voices in unison.

Koussevitzky's Double-bass

A young Russian, no money in his pocket, trudged up the steps of the Moscow Conservatory and asked for a scholarship. Scholarships were scarce, they told him. There was just one left--and that for the double-bass. The boy hesitated, turned as if to go and then came back, asked if they would teach him the double-bass.

Twenty years ago there was no greater contrabassist in all Europe than Serge Koussevitzky but he outgrew even that colossal instrument, became a conductor. Not until last year did he gather his admiring Bostonians around him and show them what he used to do with the double-bass. Boston rhapsodized but Manhattan waited to form her own judgment. In Boston King Koussevitzky can do no wrong. Neither could he last week in Manhattan. Of his first double-bass recital there, Critic Lawrence Oilman wrote in part:

"He has noosed the cumbrous pachyderm of the violin species, has dragged him up out of the orchestral cellar and has revealed him to us as a creature who does not merely gambol with grotesque ponderosity, or grumble in discontented servitude, or speak oracular solemnities, but who can sing with pride and independence and lyric fervor, with something of the cello's poignantly vibrant utterance in its upper register, yet with a fullness of body, a dark and beautiful austerity, and an amplitude of sombre richness that no cello is able to attain.

"From Mr. Koussevitzky's lowest string issues a tone purged of all raucousness, noble and superb, and from thence upward the scale is pure, euphonious, beguiling-- upward to the region of the flageolet tones, where Mr. Koussevitzky's harmonies have a clear, ethereal and crystalline loveliness that challenges credulity."

First Night

Because there lives in Italy today a poet who can make plays to match his music; because Italo Montemezzi sniffed the music in the lines, caught the magic of the mood and translated it for an orchestra; because tragedy melts easily into the rich, sombre voice of Rosa Ponselle; because Giovanni Martinelli was the popular tenor who loved her; because Ezio Pinza was the blind king and believed it; because, by reason of its beauty and its simplicity, L'Amore del Tre Re pleases the tutored and untutored, there was small fault found anywhere with the opening performance at the Metropolitan Opera House, last week.

For many Sem Bennelli's* L'Amore is the most perfect of librettos. It is the story of Blind Archibaldo who gained a kingdom and lost his soul. He has a valiant son, Manfredo. and the fair Fiora for his son's wife. He had chosen her himself, brought her as hostage from the enemy's country, but she came loving the young Prince Avito and kindness could not make her a faithful wife. Blind men see but Fiora did not know. His still eyes saw her first at dawn sending her lover out through the terrace, then at twilight in his arms, forgetting Manfredo who might have won her with his charity had he not ridden off again to war. He crept up on her, seized her with his bony hands, hurt her till she should tell her lover's name and strangled her when she dared defy. But the lover, too, must die and Flora's lips are poisoned for Avito who follows her to the castle crypt, for Manfredo who meets him and, knowing all, still wants her.

All this Montemezzi has said with music. He stumps the old King on-stage with troubled horns. He sways the lovers with his strings. He tells the anguish of Flora's soul with a single overblown clarinet. He keeps it all ineffably tender and tragic until Flora's death and then, as if his inspiration died with her, he lets it go watered away to a teary end.

Manager Giulio Gatti-Casazza chose wisely for his first-night opera. L'Amore is short. It could begin late that Manhattan's society folk might entertain leisurely at dinner. It could have long intermissions that they might take account of their neighbors' stock. It was over early that they might have their parties afterward.

The account of stock revealed few changes. The same proportion of the audience mercilessly missed the first act. There was the same tardy cluttering down the aisles, whiffs of expensive perfumes, the swish of wraps, the shooting of cuffs and hats. No Golden Horseshoe boxes had been sold since last season but there had been private rearrangements. Clarence H. Mackay was missing. So was Clarence Dillon. Fashion-writers noted that gowns dip in the back this year, fit snugly over the hips. One rhapsodized over a Lanvin taffeta, another over a Lelong tulle. Such pomp and circumstance meant little to Mr. Gatti. Hands in pockets, he sauntered in occasionally to where standees listened rapt to Montemezzi's music. On their enthusiasm depends more the success of his twenty-first season.

Four operas will have U. S. premieres this year at the Metropolitan. They are: Richard Strauss' Die Aegyptische Helena to be given Nov. 6 with Maria Jeritza as Helen; Ottorino Respighi's La Campana Sommersa to be given late in November, with Elizabeth Rethberg and Giovanni Martinelli; Ernst Krenek's Jonny Spielt Auf in January; Hdebrando Pizzetti's Fra Gherardo in March. Three operas return to the repertoire: Massenet's Manon in December with Lucrezia Bori and Beniamino Gigli; Verdi's Ernani with Rosa Ponselle and Weber's Der Freischiilz later.

There are six new singers. Sopranos are: Clara Jacobo, born in Italy, brought up in Lawrence, Mass., for three years member of Gallo's San Carlo Opera Company; Pearl Besuner of Cincinnati, for five years with the Cincinnati Zoo Opera; Ai'da Doninelli, Italian, who three years ago came from Central America and settled in Chicago, to make her debut the first week in A'ida. Mezzo-sopranos: Grace Divine of Cincinnati, first week debut in Manon Lescant; Jane 'Carroll (nee Helen Howard) of Louisville, Ky., alumna of the Ziegfeld Follies chorus and The Vagabond King, to make her debut in The Egyptian Helen. Mark Windheim is sole male recruit--a German tenor who has already sung with the St. Louis and Philadelphia Opera Companies, to make his debut first week in Manon Lescant.

Chicago's New Voices

For some years an Italian opera starring Rosa Raisa or Claudia Muzio has opened the Chicago season. This year Rosa Raisa is expecting a baby (TIME, April 30). Her doctor forbids the ocean trip and she will spend the winter quietly in Italy. Claudia Muzio is in Buenos Aires. Her mother is sick. She cannot leave. Thus, its Italian wing considerably weakened, Chicago breaks precedent this year and takes a French start with Carmen.

Hitherto Carmen in Chicago has meant Mary Garden but it is a Garden whim never to open the season. Instead, as bait. Manager Herbert M. Johnson dangled the announcement of the U. S. debut of Contralto Maria Olszewska.*

Olszewska's fame had preceded her. Many had heard her in Europe and brought home glowing tales of the big, impressive woman whose mighty voice could make Wagner almost as thrilling as the orchestra. More remembered her as the one who spat at Maria Jeritza three summers ago in Vienna. They recalled dimly the picture the press had given them then of an enraged Bruenhilde storming across the stage, hurling invectives at two of her colleagues chatting and chortling as they awaited their cues in the wings; of that same vicious Valkyrie going at them finally, gathering a maximum of saliva and spitting it. But the enraged Olszewska missed the hated Jeritza and her spittle landed upon a Madame Kittle. The inaccurate spitter was temporarily expelled from Vienna's opera.

Her coming revived the tale last week. The New York Evening Post sought out Jeritza, quoted her, strongest of sopranos, as saying:

"With my friend Mme. Kittle, I sat on a couch in the wings. Mme. Olszewska saw us?. She sang, right with the music. 'What are you doing there, you dirty dogs?' I never heard a taxicab driver use such language. Then she came closer and spat. It [the spittle] struck Mme. Kittle on the cheek. I fainted and they carried me to my dressing-room."

Olszewska, speeding by train toward Chicago, took no notice. Superb singing, she hoped, might eradicate the stain. A good appearance, too, would help and remembering that the first rehearsal was early next day, that her one pair of shoes was dusty, she slipped them outside the compartment door. In the morning there were no shoes, polished or unpolished. Knowing no English, wanting no more scenes, Olszewska stole from the train in her red bedroom slippers, drove at once to the shopping district, scuffed up and down Michigan Avenue till she could find shoes worthy of a prima donna's first entrance.

Many new singers are on the Chicago list this year. The sopranos are: Frieda Leider of the Berlin Staatsoper, in her heyday, like Olszewska and well-established in Europe; Margarita Salvi, young, slender and Spanish; Eva Turner, English and ebullient; Alice Mock, a Californian with European experience, to make her debut as Micaela in the opening Carmen; and Antoinetta Consoli of Lawrence, Mass.. who will sing Frasquita; Marion Claire, 24-year-old Chicagoan; Hilda Burke, Baltimorean; Patricia O'Connell, Alabaman and daughter of a New York Times staff writer. Contraltos: Ada Paggi, Italian, and Coe Glade, 22-year-old Chicagoan. both onetime members of the San Carlo Company; Maria Olszewska. Tenors: Giuseppe Cavadore, Italian; and Ulysses Lappas, Greek and admired by Mary Garden, back again after several seasons' absence. Baritone: Barre Hill from Reading, Mich. Muriel Stuart, onetime member of Pavlowa's troupe, is new as premiere danseuse.

Notes

In Winnipeg, Fritz Kreisler cut his finger shaving. Some 3,000 waited in vain for his concert, while his fiddles lay still. Danger of blood-poisoning passed.

Practically every great city has its orchestra. For years Paris has been the notable exception. Now the formation of a Paris orchestra is announced. Two million francs have been subscribed, 80 musicians engaged. Louis Fourestier, Ernest Ansermet and Alfred Cortot will conduct the first season's concerts, to be devoted impartially to modern and classical music.

In Cincinnati an orchestra played without a leader.* It was an all-Schubert program and the season's first concert. Brilliantly, Conductor Fritz Reiner began with the Rosamunde overture, the C-major Symphony. After intermission he sent the players on stage alone for the Unfinished Symphony. The results pleased the keen ears of the Cincinnatians, the keener ears of Conductor Reiner.

Manhattan's Beethoven Symphony Orchestra struck financial snags last week. Unpaid, 102 musicians refused to rehearse. That payroll was finally met, patrons were reassured; but when they arrived for the next concert, placards posted outside told them it had been postponed. Conductor Georges Zaslawsky complained of a heart attack. Violinist Paul Kochanski, who was to have been soloist, complained he was not paid according to contract. Rumor had it that Mrs. Clarence Chew Burger, the Symphony's chief underwriter and conductor's friend, had withdrawn her support.

*Author of La Gena delle Befle which came to the U. S. as The Jest and starred John Barrymore: later lathered with theatric lines by Umberto Giordano and given as an opera.

*Mme. Olszewska will give concerts in Cincinnati, Kansas City, Lincoln, St. Paul, Chicago, Manhattan, Washington and Pittsburgh.

*The American Symphonic Ensemble, a conductorless organization, will give concerts this season in Manhattan.