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I wrote this piece, after a marathon listening session, this morning, for the German publication Opera Lounge. It will, of course, appear there in the German language. So I enshrine it here in the English language for any English speakers who may be interested.
COWARD SINGS ...
Noel Coward. His
name has become a kind of cliché, in the decades since his death, as the
epitome of the clipped, English witticist of the twentieth century. He is,
nowadays, credited with as many ‘bons mots’ (real or invented) as Oscar Wilde.
But there was more than just bons mots to Mr Coward. He wrote plays, revue
material, lyrics, music and libretti – that last, curiously, with notably less
success than the others – and he performed as well. As an actor and as an
entertainer. I’m not to going to go into the story of his life, that’s been
done umpteen times, or his career, with its ups and downs, nor his ultimate metamorphosis
into an English Eccentric Ikon. I’ll just speak of this set of recordings.
Ikons need their
museum keepers, and Noel Coward knew what he was doing when he appointed a
young man by name Sheridan Morley as his literary executor and the keeper of
his flame. No one could have cared for the Coward legacy over the years with
more distinction and tact. Mr Morley, sadly, has now left us, too, but he has
left behind him a solid foundation for the safe preservation of that legacy,
part of which is this four-disc annotated compilation of Coward’s recordings
for His Master’s Voice. Yes, four discs.
Noel Coward and Ian Bevan at rehearsals for Sail Away |
Unless you are
completely gaga for Coward, you are not going to play the whole four discs in a
sitting. Because this collection has a double purpose: it is not only a large
selection of Noel’s songs, it is a large selection (with the odd exception) of
Noel’s songs, or songs used by Noel, here sung by Noel. So you are listening to
the same voice delivering often the same or same type of material for a long,
long time. And, one has to admit, that it is truthfully not exactly a colourful
voice. Noel had one tone, one style, a small, light voice … I suppose one would
call him a ‘diseur’ rather than a vocalist. It is a voice, full of falsetto,
totally suited to his light and humorous revue material, with which he made
such a success in his ageing years, in his solo shows, less so to other
pieces. So it is a set into which to dip
for your favourite pieces, not an easy-listening set (you have to listen to the
words!) and not a play-through set. It is a set to allow radio producers to
select their track(s) from among the … other bits.
The first disc,
including recordings made in 1928-1932, is a fair mixture. The best bits are
Coward’s renditions of his revue songs – the delicious ‘Any Little Fish Can
Swim’, the not-as-flippant-as-it-seems ‘Dance, Little Lady’ and the later
much-parodied ‘A Room with a view’, here in its original form. There is some
splendidly po-faced spoken dialogue, with Gertrude Lawrence, from Private Lives, and a surprisingly adept
version of ‘Lover of my Dreams’, but there are also several medleys from his
pasticcio pageant, Cavalcade, which
are not of huge interest, except for completeness, and his attempt to give his
own Bitter-Sweet soprano song
‘Ziegeuner’ is frankly embarrassing.
Disc Two includes
the definitive versions of the classic ‘Mad Dogs and Englishmen’ and ‘Mrs
Worthington’ plus the jolly ‘Has Anybody Seen our Ship’ and the jaunty ‘Something
to do with Spring’, as well as a selection from, possibly, Coward’s best stage
musical, Conversation Piece. Here,
fortunately, the author-composer does not try to sing the soprano songs, he
merely puts on a rather risible quasi-French accent to play the leading man’s
spoken part while the songs of Melanie (‘I’ll Follow my Secret Heart’) are
given by the incomparable Yvonne Printemps. Incomparably. Finally, there are
the three songs from Shadow Play, again
with Miss Lawrence. Yes, I think
between ‘Mad Dogs’ and Mlle Printemps, disc two may be my most-played.
Unfortunately,
Coward didn’t come up with stage pieces to equal Bitter-Sweet and Conversation
Piece again, even if his later shows did include some memorable songs, so
discs three and four are devoted largely to Noel singing his and other folks’
songs. On number three, we get ‘The Stately Homes of England’ (Operette), ‘London Pride’, ‘Imagine the
Duchess’s Feelings’ and ‘Don’t Let’s Be Beastly to the Germans’, plus quite a
bit of ‘Noel sings other folks’ stuff Noel-style’, but the fourth disc features
not only songs like ‘I Wonder What Happened to Him’ and Noel’s favourite
‘Matelot’, but seven pieces from Coward’s brilliant score for the sadly flawed Pacific 1860. Unfortunately, here we
have no soprano to deliver the dazzling ‘This is a Changing World’ (my own favourite
Coward romance), all the excerpts are sung by the writer. Which is fine for the
humorous ‘His Excellency Regrets’ and the hilarious ‘Uncle Harry’, but makes a
mess of the soprano music and means the beautiful ‘This is a night for lovers’
has to be omitted. I know this set is devoted to Coward the performer, but Mlle
Printemps’s solos are included, so why not Sylvia Cecil’s?
Well, I’ve done
three and a half discs. I’m up to the 1950s, and much of what follows is
repeats and medleys, plus bits from the under-effective Ace of Clubs. But the set finishes with one more bit of what has
become regarded as ‘Cowardesque’ humour: ‘There Are Bad Times Just Around the Corner’.Yes.
It’s a grand set,
glistening with a selection of classic gems performed by the inimitable Mr
Coward (and his ladies), and if there is a certain amount of padding between
the highlights, well, that’s what happens when you are being ‘complete’.
All in all, I think Noel would
be ‘right chuffed, dear boy’ at this memorial, and it is clearly worth its
reissue.
His wit was tailor-made for another time and for that he is fondly remembered. So many of his works an now in amber. I admire his lyrics and the real craftsmanship with words and meter, and now that the historical gloss is wearing off they show timeless skill. Some of them are maudlin and sentimental, too gooey and more syrupy than a Greek pastry, while most are quite observant. But most of all, through his diary, he showed himself to be tremendously kind (and rarely savage where it counts) without nonsense. Coward is a phase everyone should go through, and then use sparingly. I never saw any of his musicals of course, but in the plays I have seen his humanity is apparent in the characters, and that in these achingly dull and savage times, is oxygen.
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