The Birmingham age-herald., 1921-12-11

sweet notes, come memories crowd Ing, of woodland paths and fair green fields. of mist and dew and simmer ing sun, of tender smiles and tear \ wet eyes-when John Mccormack sings
 "Here are mother-loves and loveF- loves and love of country and of God Here Is the silver star-shine of the calling voice of night and the golden sunlight of a perfect day. Here IS the home of the heart, here the treas ure-trove of sailing ships, the mys- tic sweetness of forest leaf and stream, the murmur and the stir. as of a gods heart hidden fin q bird. Here is youths magic moon that knows no wane, and here, the trumpet home-caI for the pitiful dead of the blood-red battlefield. Soul and body and all the springs of song'-here is no high uplifted art that asks it's students long devotion to get the full love and joy of it. but here, rather, Is the best that genius and that art can give freely poured out to render back to us that which Is even already our own. No teacher here. but a magic interpreter of things long loved and often, too. perhaps, alas, long sleeping in our hearts.
 Aud so-the dreams we walk in and all the truths of sleep'-'memory and visions and simple human loves come flooding full Into the re- awakened hearts of us with new, deepened beauty and new, springins joy-when John Mccormack sings
 John Mccormack is living refuta- tion of all and every argument against song in English. Ills art is at once so simple and masterful that he writes with his melody an accu- rate and full expression of the ideas and sentiments embodied In the lan- guage he uses. This Is tho consum- nation of art. Mere melody without thought and sentiment is better than nothing, but melody reinforced by thought and sentiment becomes ab- solutely resistless in both power and beauty And once Mccormack Is heard in song, the question of the sweetness and mellifluousneas of the English language as vehicle or musical expression, is no longer open to doubt. As a medium of expression 1t Is made by him apt and beautiful.
 No form of art is really potential unless it breathes ideation and emo ton. When art accompllshes this consummation 1t performs It's lesiti- mate and true emotion. For genera tions song in America has been slow ly vending It's way towards It's true destiny.
 The solution of this problem by this artist has secured to him. not only the homage of the present generation, but place in the evolution of true art.
 From every angle, wherever 6 com pllment can be bestowed upon a singer showing him to be pre-eminent 1t is always given to John McCor- mack and there comes to mind the oc- casion when Frederick and Fanny Hatton, the authors of The Years of Discretion, the successful play pro- duced by David Belasco few years ago, introduced . most unique piece of "business" to hold the attention of the audience for four and one-half minutes. during two interesting love scenes taking place ht the same time in darkened room. one of the couples starts the Victrola. The song used was Liza Lehmann's beautiful "Ah, Moon of My Delight" from In Persian Garden" sung by John Me- ! Cormaok.
 Mr. Belasco in answer to an in- quiry as to how he came to select | this particular record, said that he | felt 1t was next to impossible for any voice to break into q play and hold the audience four and one-half minutes, so 1t was vital to get g good record of . voice that had the human note in 1t. He spent three hours in the record shops and with out Knowing the voice, selected this record of John Mccormack.
 He declares 1t Is the only voice he lras ever heard with wonderful sym l pathetic, human note, that could hold l an audience, even when they wore expecting something else.
 No greater compliment could come to the great Irish tenor than this from the greatest master of stage craft probably that the world has ever | known.
 l MT. Belasco k one of MT. MoCor-