On Nov. 8, 1876, in the second year of its existence, the New York Oratorio Society gave its first performance of Mendelssohn's Elijah. They gave it again last week, 50 year later, in Carnegie Hall with a chorus of 200 and a large orchestra drawn from the New York Symphony. An earnest audience, knowing Elijah to be good, assumed the performance to be equally good; applauded indiscriminately mediocre singing by Marjorie Nash, soprano; by Jeanne Laval, contralto; the Elijah of Baritone Louis Gravewre, celebrating his tenth anniversary in the role with a performance well below his usual excellent standard; Septuagenarian Dan Beddoe, greatest of all oratorio tenors at his very best; voluminous but monstrous choral work under the leadership of Albert Stoessel.
Furtwangler
A year ago Wilhelm Furtwangler,* famed German conductor, came tor the U. S. to serve a four weeks' guest conductorship with the New York Philharmonic. He did his work well, he was a success, a sensational success, some said. On the basis of his success he was engaged for this season as a regular conductor for a ten-week term. Last week he arrived, began rehearsals with an orchestra still quivering with the thrill of Toscanini's administration, gave his first concert in Carnegie Hall.
He offered a conservative program: Beethoven's Egmont overture, Mozart's "Eine kleine Nachtmusik," Brahm's Fourth Symphony and the Meistersinger prelude. His audience approved of his program, of his workmanship, gave him a cordial reception.
Critics reached under their chairs, found the duffel-bags full of ready-to-wear words and opinions that they had tucked there surreptitiously at the first Toscanini concert, drew them out. They dared to comment on "occasional roughness," "lagging tempo," "indiscriminate climaxes and crescendos"; agreed that he had acquitted himself well, commended his "energy," his "enthusiasm," his "excellence." One of them took out "sensational," looked at it earnestly, put it back again.
King Gieseking
A German pianist was scheduled to make his U. S. debut in Aeolian Hall, Manhattan. His name was Walter Gieseking. He was 30 years old. He came "fresh from European successes." But so do many of his colleagues, according to their press notices. This particular Sunday afternoon was a very busy one in Manhattan music halls. There were orchestral concerts and recitals by artists with bigger names than Gieseking, and the Friends of Music under Artur Bodanzky were doing interesting things down the street in the Town Hall. No, there was little time for the critics to spend in Aeolian Hall.