Lindbergh-on-the-Ear

Of the many echoes of Col. Charles Augustus Lindbergh's heroism, not the least sincere is the symphonic portrayal, We, composed by James Philip Dunn of Jersey City, N. J. At City College, Manhattan, where the Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra under Willem van Hoogstraten plays nightly to music lovers in the summer, We last week had its premiere.

The main theme, by its forthright, bold, persistent rhythm signi- fying the courage of the aviator, runs through a series of minor themes which describe in detail how the Spirit of St. Louis was made ready for flight. Percussion instruments hum, rumble, roar to denote the spinning of the propeller. Brasses indicate the farewell hammering in mechanics. Gentler instruments soothingly interpret the pouring of oil. Then the plane soars to the screech of a fire engine siren. Storm, sleet ... a lyrical movement as the hero sights the mainland of Europe. Finally, triumphant orchestration. Herein ring fragments of "Dixie," "The Star-Spangled Banner," "Marseillaise," "Yankee Doodle."

Sikes into Baromeo

The Chicago Civic Opera Company, through Manager Herbert Johnson, proclaimed six additions to its roster, dwelt with some enthusiasm on the fact that all are

U.S. born. U.S. readers, scanning the list, wondered. The six: Leone Krause (dramatic soprano) Chase Baromeo (basso) Olga Kargau (soprano) Elinor Mario (mezzo-soprano) Lucille Meusel (mezzo-soprano) Delia Samoiloff (soprano) It was not until they had read further to the effect that Miss Krause is the daughter of a Michigan clergyman; that Mr. Baromeo is a native of Ann Arbor, a graduate of the University of Michigan; that Miss Kargau went through a Chicago high school; that Miss Mario was trained for opera in San Francisco; that Miss Meusel is the daughter of a Wisconsin traveling salesman--that U.S. readers felt justified in taking credit to themselves in the knowledge that these artists are really U.S. artists and that their presence in the company indicates the gradual emergence of U. S. musical culture from the domination of Europe. On going further, however, their enthusiasm must have been chilled in reading that one of the artists (whose real name is Charles Sikes) felt it advantageous for professional reasons to be designated more lyrically as Mr. Baromeo. Perhaps they recalled that Edward Johnson, celebrated tenor of the Metropolitan Opera Company, felt obliged to be Eduardo Giovanni until fame came.

Publisher Wronged

Whiskey guzzlers bellowing stale fumes into the staler atmosphere of saloons, with uncertain feet pedaling in search of the brass rail, bleary eyes blinking, will readily burst forth into melancholic ecstasy by way of "Sweet Adeline." The song has just enough tenor possibility, just enough yearning glide, just enough gallant sentiment to appeal to the soul that is passing beyond the first stage of spirituous exaltation without having entered upon that secondary period where the world's ills induce a condition of overwhelming sorrow. It is indisputably the drunkard's delight. But it may not become the chocolate taffy eater's comfort unless the publishers who own the rights, M. Witmark & Sons, are paid royalties by the W. P. Chase Candy Corp. for permitting the latter to print "Sweet Adaline,* my heart doth pine," together with a bar of the familiar tune, on the wax-paper cover of their new candy bar. A suit which the music publishers brought last week against the candymaker has the support of all other music publishers,/- for protection of "small rights" is rapidly becoming a necessity to the publisher.

'"Adeline" is thus misspelled on the candy.

/- Among them: Irving Berlin Inc., Leo Feist Inc., Jerome H. Remick Co., John Baron and Morris Kraut.