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Patrick Bade
Edwardian Encores: Great Singers in English Popular Songs

Sunday 9.07.2023

Patrick Bade - Edwardian Encores: Great Singers in English Popular Songs

- Thank you, Emily. Well, for the past 20 years and more, I have been working for a French record company called Malibran that specialises in the reissue of historic vocal records, recordings. It’s really a labour of love. They don’t actually pay me any money for this, although they do feed me. I get given lots of wonderful French meals. And usually I translate all their texts from French to English, but they also like it if I put together CDs for them, and one I put together a couple of years ago is this one, “English Encores.” And it was inspired by the fact that in the early 1900s, the Metropolitan Opera in New York and Covent Garden Opera in London, of course, they’re two of the leading opera houses of the world, were hiring almost exclusively continental European singers, so singers like Melba and Eames and Geraldine Farrar were the exceptions. The great majority of the singers were from Italy, Spain, France, Germany. And so it was a very prestigious thing to sing for either of these houses, but fees were not enormous. The big money for these singers was in doing concert tours, and a typical tour for a singer at this time would’ve started off with what were called aria antique, the songs from the 17th through 18th century, popular songs like , for instance, and then they would move on to arias from their repertoire that would be sung in the appropriate language, Italian, French, German. But they would finish the concerts with a selection of popular English songs, drawing room songs, I think, one could call them, and the audiences loved these. And then, in the early 1900s, of course you have the emergence of the gramophone and gramophone records.

And so, records of these encore songs proved to be a very nice earner for all of these singers. I’m beginning with Adelina Patti. She was dubbed the Queen of Song. She was born in 1841. She made her debut as a child in 1851 and she sang for Rossini in the 1860s, who, actually, was rather irritated with her because she put in so many flourishes and ornaments into one of his arias. He asked her , at the end, she said, and, “Very nice, Mademoiselle, very nice, but may I ask, who is the composer of that song?” Verdi was more favourable towards her, and somebody once asked him, “Who are your three favourite sopranos?” And he said, “First, Adelina Patti, second, Adelina Patti, and third, Adelina Patti.” So in 1862, she went to America and she was invited, she was already very, very famous, this 20-year-old girl, and she was invited to the White House to sing for President Lincoln and his wife. And her encore on that occasion was the traditional song “Home, Sweet Home,” and she sang it so beautifully that President Lincoln and his wife were both reduced to tears, and thereafter, of course, it became her standard encore and was picked up by many, many other singers, particularly female singers. So as I said, for me, it’s quite amazing that we can hear a voice that moved President Lincoln to tears in 1862. She was quite an old woman when she made this recording, and I think you can hear that, but you can also hear what was so special about her, really, which is the quality of her voice, which was very pure and instrumental, and at the same time, warm and luscious, and she still had that even in her sixties when she recorded this.

♪ Mid pleasures ♪ ♪ And palaces ♪ ♪ Though we may roam ♪ ♪ Be it ever so humble ♪ ♪ There’s no place ♪ ♪ Like home ♪ ♪ A charm from the skies ♪ ♪ Seems to hallow ♪ ♪ Us there ♪ ♪ Which seek ♪ ♪ Through the world ♪ ♪ Is never ♪ ♪ Met elsewhere ♪ ♪ Home ♪ ♪ Home ♪ ♪ Sweet ♪ ♪ Sweet home ♪ ♪ There’s no place ♪ ♪ Like home ♪ ♪ There’s no place ♪ ♪ Like home ♪

  • Now, the man who put the gramophone on the map, so to speak, was Enrico Caruso, and that was in 1902. And he had just had his first great triumph at La Scala in Milan. A whole series of coincidences, really, because Mascagni had written an opera called “Le Maschere,” and the debut of this opera, the premiere of this opera, had been a complete flop and it had to be taken off and replaced at very short notice. And Toscanini had the idea of putting on an opera that hadn’t been done for decades, “L'elisir d'Amore,” it had really dropped from the repertoire, and the young and, really, unknown Caruso was in this, and it was a tremendous, tremendous success. So in that year, the representative of a new company called the Gramophone and Typewriter Company, it later became His Master’s Voice, they were marketing this new device that most people just thought of as some kind of toy, but in order to sell gramophones, they needed to have some records that people actually wanted to hear. So the G&T, Gramophone and Typewriter, they sent Mr. Gaisberg to Milan to talent-scout, and he heard this new, wonderful tenor, and he approached him and he said, “How much would you want to record 10 arias for G&T?” And Caruso, full of himself, asked for 100 guineas, 100 pounds and 100 shillings, which the G&T regarded that as outrageous, and they sent a telegram to Gaisberg, saying, “Forbid you to go ahead,” but he did, luckily he did go ahead, and the records were made in a hotel room in the Grand Hotel, same hotel where Verdi had actually died the year before, and the records turned out to be a sensational success. They convinced people that the gramophone was more than a toy, that it could really be of artistic value, and the record sold very well, and other singers then, like Melba and Tetrazzini and Calve and so on, were persuaded to make recordings as well. So we’re going to hear the great Enrico Caruso here in a very popular Victorian song, “The Lost Chord” by Arthur Sullivan.

♪ Seated one day ♪ ♪ At the organ ♪ ♪ I was weary ♪ ♪ And ill at ease ♪ ♪ And my fingers ♪ ♪ Wandered idly ♪ ♪ Over the noisy keys ♪ ♪ I know not what I ♪ ♪ I was dreaming then ♪ ♪ And like the sound ♪ ♪ Of a great ♪ ♪ Amen ♪

  • Now, we’ve had 120-something years of recording the human voice, and I find it very fascinating how techniques have changed, voices have changed. Types of voices that were once very popular have more or less disappeared. Skills are lost and skills are regained. I would say one way in which singers have improved greatly in the last generation is pronunciation. There’s some pretty atrocious pronunciation in early recordings. Melba’s Italian, notorious, of course, with her very Australian vowel sounds coming through. Nowadays, every opera house has language coaches, and singers are expected, really, to be able to pronounce a language properly. But if pronunciation has improved, enunciation has declined. You’ll find that most of the singers, these early singers, right up to the Second World War, right up till the period after the Second World War, the enunciation will be much, much clearer than it is today, and there are probably various reasons for that. One reason, fun factor, may be, of course, that in the opera house these days, you’ve got surtitles, and maybe that makes singers rather lazy. Well, that’s to introduce you to Feodor Chaliapin, who’s generally regarded as the greatest singing actor, an incredibly vivid onstage personality. And he’s singing a rather kitschy Victorian song here, which he sings with incredible conviction. He might be singing “Boris Godunov” or some great operatic role where he puts it across. But it’s sort of a surprise to me that nobody had the courage to tell him that the word rain in English does not sound the same as the river, or Rhine, as you’ll hear he sings it in this song.

♪ Set my hands ♪ ♪ Upon the plough ♪ ♪ My feet ♪ ♪ Upon the sod ♪ ♪ Turn my face ♪ ♪ Towards the east ♪ ♪ And praise be ♪ ♪ To God ♪ ♪ Every year ♪ ♪ The rains do fall ♪ ♪ The seeds ♪ ♪ They stir and spring ♪ ♪ Every year ♪ ♪ The spreading trees ♪ ♪ Shelter birds ♪ ♪ That sing ♪

  • Now, when Caruso died in 1921, there was a whole new generation of tenors, all vying to take on the mantle or the crown of Caruso as the world’s greatest tenor. There was Pertile, Tito Schipa, Giacomo Lauri-Volpi, and Giovanni Martinelli, and then the crown had to be divided, that it was Martinelli who took over the more heroic roles best and Gigli who took over the more lyrical roles with his wonderfully sweet, honeyed, luscious voice. He’s going to sing a song here by Paolo Tosti, who was an Italian composer but based in London, and he wrote songs that singers loved to sing and audiences loved to hear. Many of the songs have Italian texts, but some of them also have English texts, like this one, “Goodbye.” And listen also to, I mean, Gigli’s enunciation, which is wonderful, but of course, he treats the vowels in a very Italian way, so he doesn’t sing, “Goodbye,” he sings, “Good-ba-i,” but I don’t think that detracts from this absolutely gorgeous rendition of this very emotional song.

♪ Falling leaf and fading tree ♪ ♪ Lines of white in a sullen sea ♪ ♪ Shadows rising on you and me ♪ ♪ Shadows rising on you and me ♪ ♪ The swallows are making them ♪ ♪ Ready to fly ♪ ♪ Wheeling out ♪ ♪ On a windy sky ♪ ♪ Goodbye, summer ♪ ♪ Goodbye, goodbye ♪ ♪ Goodbye, summer ♪ ♪ Goodbye ♪ ♪ Goodbye ♪

  • This is Dino Borgioli, who may not be familiar to you. He is not really in the top rank, not amongst those tenors I’ve just mentioned, but a very nice singer, and I think this is a particularly beautiful rendition of a very beautiful and touching song. It’s by a composer called Richard Hageman, who is Dutch-born but became a naturalised American and later wrote film music in Hollywood. This is actually the only song I know by him. It’s a song, as you’d explain, it’s somebody sitting beside the bed of a loved one who’s dying and pleading them not to go.

♪ Do not go ♪ ♪ My love ♪ ♪ Without asking my leave ♪ ♪ I have watched all night ♪ ♪ And now my eyes ♪ ♪ Are heavy with sleep ♪ ♪ I fear ♪ ♪ Lest I lose you ♪ ♪ When I am ♪ ♪ Sleeping ♪ ♪ Do not go ♪ ♪ My love ♪ ♪ Without asking my leave ♪ ♪ I start up ♪ ♪ And stretch my hands ♪ ♪ To touch you ♪ ♪ I ask myself ♪ ♪ Is it a dream ♪

  • This is the great Ernestine Schumann-Heink. She was widely considered the greatest contralto in the world, and as I said, the voice types changed. There was great appreciation for the contralto voice in the late 19th, early 20th century. Clara Butt would be another example in England. But it’s a voice type that’s become almost extinct. She had an amazing career in all the great houses of the world, and somehow managed to find time to have eight children, or eight surviving children. She may have had more, I’m not sure. And she moved to America, and during the First World War, her older sons were fighting in the German army and her younger sons were fighting in the American army, but nobody held it against her. She was a much-loved mother figure. Later in her career, once radio was invented, she became a great radio personality, and every year at Christmas, she would sing “Silent Night” over the radio waves. So you’ll hear there are many, many stories about her. She’s a really legendary figure, the most famous being the one where she got stuck between two pieces of scenery when trying to make an entrance in “Die Walkure,” and the somebody said, “Turn sideways, Madam Schumann-Heink,” and she famously answered, “But I don’t have a sideways.” Here she is in song.

♪ Moon deer ♪ ♪ How near ♪ ♪ Your soul ♪ ♪ Divine ♪ ♪ Sun deer ♪ ♪ No fear ♪ ♪ In heart ♪ ♪ Of mine ♪ ♪ Skies blue ♪ ♪ O'er you ♪ ♪ Look down ♪ ♪ In love ♪ ♪ Waves bright ♪

  • Somebody at the end of a recent lecture asked me, do I like Amelita Galli-Curci? I love Amelita Galli-Curci and have loved her since I was a child. I find her incredibly touching and moving. It’s partly her simplicity and directness. There’s no fussiness. She doesn’t sound like a prima donna and there’s nothing artificial about her interpretation. But also, above all, it’s the timbre. When people heard her after her… She had a sensational debut in Chicago in 1916. Again, it’s one of those stories of coincidence, really. She hadn’t been very successful in Europe, particularly not in Italy, where they liked more temperamental singers, so she moved over to the Americas and she was singing in Argentina. And this was during the First World War and the height of the German U-boat campaign, and it was too dangerous to come back to Europe on a ship. So she travelled north. She went first to New York, to the Met, where she auditioned at the Met, and amazingly, they rejected her. That was a very, very big mistake. And then she went up to Chicago and she made her debut in “Rigoletto,” and it was an overnight sensation. And she became, after Caruso, the most popular singer in America and her records were the second best-selling records after those of Caruso. Here she sings a simple song by Foster, which you all know, but often when opera singers sing this kind of thing, it’s kind of embarrassing, but not with her. It just sounds completely natural.

♪ Way down ♪ ♪ Upon the Suwannee River ♪ ♪ Far ♪ ♪ Far away ♪ ♪ There’s where my heart ♪ ♪ Is turning ever ♪ ♪ There’s where ♪ ♪ The old folks stay ♪ ♪ All up and down ♪ ♪ The whole creation ♪ ♪ Sadly ♪ ♪ I roam ♪ ♪ Still longing ♪ ♪ For the old plantation ♪ ♪ And for the old folks ♪ ♪ At home ♪

  • People were reminded of Patti and I think that’s probably how Patti sounded when she was younger. It’s that combination of purity and lusciousness. Now, another singer who made a very sensational debut in America, sort of sprang from nowhere, was the Norwegian, Kirsten Flagstad. Nothing was really known about her and not much was expected from her when she made her debut at the Metropolitan Opera in 1935 as Sieglinde, and she was a overnight sensation, became the most famous singer in America in the late ‘30s, the most loved singer, and in some ways, she took on the role of Ernestine Schumann-Heink. When Ernestine Schumann-Heink died, it was Flagstad who was in invited to take her place singing “Silent Night” on the radio at Christmas. And it is the voice of voices. If you had to say, who had the biggest, most splendid, most thrilling soprano voice of the 20th century, I think the palm would have to go to Flagstad, especially at the point in her career where we’re going to hear her now, in the late '30s. And this is a song that fits her like a glove, by the English composer Frank Bridge, and it makes her sound a bit like an English valkyrie, “Love went a-riding.”

♪ Love went a-riding ♪ ♪ Love went a-riding ♪ ♪ Over the earth ♪ ♪ On Pegasus ♪ ♪ He rode ♪ ♪ The flowers before him sprang to birth ♪ ♪ And the frozen rivers flowed ♪ ♪ Then all the youths and the maidens cried ♪ ♪ Stay here with us ♪ ♪ Stay here with us ♪ ♪ King of kings ♪ ♪ But Love said no ♪ ♪ For the horse I ride ♪ ♪ For the horse I ride has wings ♪ ♪ Love went a-riding ♪ ♪ Love went a-riding over the earth ♪ ♪ On Pegasus ♪ ♪ He rode ♪

  • This is Elisabeth Rethberg. She was a German soprano from Dresden, but her career was almost entirely at the Metropolitan Opera in New York. Toscanini famously described her as the most perfect singer in the world, but I suppose perfection, for some people, perfection is boring. Nobody ever called Maria Callas a perfect singer. And she’s sometimes described as being a rather stolid singer. It’s a very, very beautiful voice again, which is silvery, very pure, very silvery and warm at the same time, with a wonderful sense of poise. And she recorded two Irish , a lovely tune, and I imagine that here she’s playing to a particular section of the gallery. It was in America. In this period, there was a very important element of Irish immigration, and I’m sure they would’ve responded to this.

♪ Would God I were ♪ ♪ The tender apple blossom ♪ ♪ To lie and faint ♪ ♪ Within you silken bosom ♪ ♪ Your silken bosom ♪ ♪ As that ♪ ♪ Does now ♪ ♪ Or would I were ♪ ♪ A little burnished apple ♪ ♪ For you to pluck me ♪ ♪ Gliding by ♪ ♪ So cold ♪ ♪ While sun and shade ♪ ♪ Your robe of lawn ♪ ♪ Will dapple ♪ ♪ Your robe of lawn ♪ ♪ And you hair’s ♪ ♪ Spun gold ♪ ♪ Yea, would to God ♪ ♪ I were among the roses ♪ ♪ That lean to kiss you ♪ ♪ As you float between ♪ ♪ While on the lowest branch ♪ ♪ A bud uncloses ♪ ♪ A bud ♪ ♪ Uncloses ♪ ♪ To touch you ♪ ♪ Queen ♪ ♪ Nay, since you will not love ♪ ♪ Would I were growing ♪ ♪ A happy daisy ♪ ♪ In the garden path ♪ ♪ That so ♪ ♪ Your silver foot ♪ ♪ Might press me ♪ ♪ Going ♪ ♪ Might press me ♪ ♪ Going ♪ ♪ Even ♪ ♪ Unto death ♪

  • The use of portamento there, at least, I think it’s lovely, but I suppose that’s another way in which, you know, singing styles have changed. No modern singer would slide down those notes in the way that Rethberg does. Now, this is another singer very, very close to my heart. This is Elisabeth Schumann, partly because she was my grandmother’s favourite singer, so I grew up listening to 78 rpm records with Elisabeth Schumann. She ended up as a refugee from Nazi Germany and from Austria after the Anschluss, and she eventually took British nationality. She was very much loved by the English public and she had a very charming German accent when she speaks English. And this song, it’s a song by Landon Ronald, who is Melba’s accompanist, and it’s called “Down in the Forest,” and over the years it’s caused a lot of mirth, because she ends each section with the words, “It was only the note of a bird.” But I think she just decided that “ir” is not a nice sound to sing, so she changes it, “It was only the note of a beard.”

♪ Down in the forest something stirred ♪ ♪ So faint that I scarcely heard ♪ ♪ But the forest leapt at the sound ♪ ♪ Like a good ship ♪ ♪ Homeward bound ♪ ♪ Down in the forest something stirred ♪ ♪ It was only the note ♪ ♪ Of a bird ♪ ♪ Now in the morning of life I stand ♪ ♪ And I long for the touch of your hand ♪ ♪ I am here at your door ♪ ♪ Oh love ♪ ♪ Oh love ♪ ♪ We will wait ♪ ♪ No more ♪ ♪ Down in the forest something stirred ♪ ♪ It was only the note ♪ ♪ Of a bird ♪

  • Such exquisite last note that I think it’s worth the mispronunciation. Now, here is a singer who really knows how to enunciate the English language. This is the Catalan singer Conchita Supervia, again, a singer who was very much taken into the hearts of the British and particularly the London Jewish community, which she married into, and she enthusiastically threw herself into Jewish charities in the 1930s. Tragically died very young in childbirth. But just listen what she does to the text of this song. Every word is, of course, crystal clear, and it’s a very special voice, and it’s surprising in a way that the English loved her in the way that they did, 'cause normally English people don’t like a rapid vibrato and she has a very pronounced one. One critic said that her voice sounded like an umbrella dragged along park railings. But I just think people fell under her spell because she was so charming. And she has great fun with the vowel sound of the “no.” She changes it, you know, each time with, “Oh no, John.” Sometimes the girl is very coy, “no,” and sometimes she’s very posh, “new.” So each time she says, “No, John,” she enunciates it differently.

♪ On yonder hill there stands a maiden ♪ ♪ Who she is I do not know ♪ ♪ I’ll go and court her for her beauty ♪ ♪ She must answer yes or no ♪ ♪ O no, John, no, John ♪ ♪ No, John, no ♪ ♪ My father was a Spanish captain ♪ ♪ Went to sea a month ago ♪ ♪ First he kissed me, then he left me ♪ ♪ Bid me always answer no ♪ ♪ O no, John, no, John ♪ ♪ No, John, no ♪ ♪ O Madam ♪ ♪ In your face is beauty ♪ ♪ On your lips red roses grow ♪ ♪ Will you take me for your lover ♪ ♪ Madam, answer yes or no ♪ ♪ O no, John, no, John ♪ ♪ No, John, no ♪ ♪ O Madam ♪ ♪ Since you are so cruel ♪ ♪ O no, John, no, John ♪ ♪ No, John, no ♪ ♪ O hark ♪ ♪ I hear the church bells ringing ♪ ♪ Will you come and be my wife ♪ ♪ Or dear Madam, have you settled ♪ ♪ To live single all your life ♪ ♪ O no, John, no, John ♪ ♪ No, John, no ♪

  • Another singer who of course became a British subject, much, much loved by the English, and I will be devoting a whole talk to him in August, that’s Richard Tauber, of Austrian background, thrown out of Germany, and then out of Austria by the Nazis. And during the… Here, you see him on the left here with his wife Diana Napier. He married her. Actually, she was South African, Diana Napier. And on on the right, you can see him while he was on tour in Australia. And he was up there with Vera Lynn and Myra Hess as somebody who was doing everything he could during the Second World War to boost the morale of the British public, including singing and recording songs from the previous World War, like this very lovely song, “Roses of Picardy.”

♪ She’s watching by the poplars ♪ ♪ Colinette with the sea-blue eyes ♪ ♪ She’s watching and longing and waiting ♪ ♪ Where the long white road-way lies ♪ ♪ And a song stirs in the silence ♪ ♪ As the wind in the boughs above ♪ ♪ She listens and starts ♪ ♪ And trembles ♪ ♪ 'Tis the first little song ♪ ♪ Of love ♪ ♪ Roses are shining in Picardy ♪ ♪ In the hush ♪ ♪ Of the silver dew ♪ ♪ Roses are flowering in Picardy ♪ ♪ But there’s never a rose ♪ ♪ Like you ♪ ♪ And the roses will die ♪ ♪ With the summertime ♪ ♪ And our roads ♪ ♪ May be far apart ♪ ♪ But there’s one rose that dies not ♪ ♪ In Picardy ♪ ♪ 'Tis the rose that I keep ♪ ♪ In my heart ♪ ♪ And the years fly on for ever ♪ ♪ Till the shadows veil their skies ♪ ♪ But he loves to hold her little hands ♪ ♪ And look in her sea-blue eyes ♪ ♪ And she sees the road by the poplars ♪ ♪ Where they met in the by-gone years ♪ ♪ For the first little song ♪ ♪ Of the roses ♪ ♪ Is the last little song ♪ ♪ She hears ♪ ♪ Roses are shining ♪ ♪ In Picardy ♪ ♪ In the hush ♪ ♪ Of the silver dew ♪ ♪ Roses are flowering in Picardy ♪ ♪ But there’s never a rose ♪ ♪ Like you ♪ ♪ And the roses will die ♪ ♪ With the summertime ♪ ♪ And our roads ♪ ♪ May be far apart ♪ ♪ But there’s one rose that dies not ♪ ♪ In Picardy ♪ ♪ 'Tis the rose ♪ ♪ That I keep ♪ ♪ In my ♪ ♪ Heart ♪

  • It’s the falsetto ending there, and I find the heavy Viennese accent is very much part of the charm, guttural rolled Rs. We’re going to finish with the great Wagnerian bass, Alexander Kipnis. He was of Ukrainian Jewish origin. He was so important, really, as a singer, by far the greatest Wagnerian bass of his time, there was nobody to equal him, that initially the Nazis forced him to serve out his contracts, so he actually stayed in Germany until 1935 and then moved on to America and ended his career in America. There’s something, I think, wonderfully hilarious about a great Gurnemanz or Hagen singing the song that he’s going to sing for you now.

♪ Little Jack Horner ♪ ♪ Little Jack Horner ♪ ♪ Little Jackie Horner ♪ ♪ Sat in the corner ♪ ♪ Eating his Christmas pie, eating his Christmas pie ♪ ♪ Little Jack Horner sat in the corner ♪ ♪ Eating his Christmas pie ♪ ♪ His Christmas pie ♪ ♪ He put in his thumb ♪ ♪ He put in his thumb ♪ ♪ And pulled out a plum ♪ ♪ And pulled out a plum ♪ ♪ And pulled out a plum ♪ ♪ And said, and said, and said ♪ ♪ And said, and said ♪ ♪ What a good boy am I ♪ ♪ What a good, good boy am I ♪ ♪ He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum ♪ ♪ He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum ♪ ♪ And said ♪ ♪ What a boy ♪ ♪ And said ♪ ♪ What a boy ♪ ♪ What a good ♪ ♪ Good boy ♪ ♪ Am I ♪ ♪ Little Jack Horner ♪ ♪ Little Jack Horner ♪ ♪ Little Jackie Horner sat in the corner ♪ ♪ Eating his Christmas pie, eating his Christmas pie ♪ ♪ He put in his thumb ♪ ♪ And pulled out a plum ♪ ♪ And said ♪ ♪ What a good, good boy am I ♪ ♪ What a good ♪ ♪ Good boy ♪ ♪ Am I ♪

Q&A and Comments:

  • Margaret agreeing about enunciation. It’s also true, of course, people complain. I don’t think it’s just that we’re all getting deaf as we get older, that when you go to the theatre these days, it’s really quite hard sometimes to follow what is being said.

A contralto voice is the deepest female voice. It’s the tessitura, the level. But it also has to do, you expect a contralto voice to have a very full, dark timbre.

I certainly have, Ida Cook’s, read her book, and I knew her very well. She used to invite me to her soirees with her sister, Louise. They were wonderful, very lovable characters that we should really do a session on them. They deserve one.

An exhibition of Reynolds at Kenwood House. I should try and get there, I think, while I’m briefly in London. Right. Thank you, Monty.

“Madame Schumann-Heink, as you mentioned, had quite a large,” oh, she was a large woman. Yes, that’s another very famous story about her, saying, although, yes, I’ve got a slightly different version of it, but anyway, she was eating a huge steak and Caruso was astonished. And he said, “You no eat that alone, Ernestine,” and she said, “Ach, nein,” no, “mit Kartoffeln,” with potatoes.

Well, certain historic recordings will have surface noise, that is true. , I’m glad that you love Elisabeth Schumann, just the most adorable singer, and thank you, Myra. One of the intriguing points is one of the greatest Italian lyric tenors, Beniamino Gigli, and the greatest Wagnererian heldentenor, Lauritz Melchior, were born on the same day. That was a wonderful day for opera lovers. That certainly was.

And the accompanists, yes, Samuel, varied accompanists. We didn’t have time to mention them. No, it wasn’t Tauber, Louise, who sang that. It was Alexander Kipnis at the end. Yeah, what a voice. Really fantastic, isn’t it?

And thank you, Herbert.

Oh, this is Linda saying that her mother’s cousin was married to Madam Schumann-Heink’s, one of her sons. Well, as I said, she had a choice. I know she had eight children and I think they were mostly boys.

And oh, it’s the internet, yeah, and it depends slightly, I think, on your equipment, too. Yeah, thank you all very, very much, and I’m back to a more straightforward historical theme for my next lecture, which this week will be on Tuesday rather than Wednesday. Thank you very much. Bye-bye.