One wonders a little sadly what becomes of all the gaily pantalooned pierrots and others of that ilk once autumnal rains and storms drive the pleasure-seeker from the seashore and other health resorts. Probably not all of them find room on "the boards," or on the films? Yet quite exceptional talent is often to be found in humble and unimposing situations.
One of the loveliest and most appealing voices I ever heard was that of a tenor, to which I listened with a rapt and almost heart-aching attention in its lowly and, indeed, vulgar setting - a "singsong" drinking pavilion in the Isle of Man into which a rather naughty old lady had inveigled us, on the plea of "seeing the sights." The owner of the voice was a fine-looking man, still young, but with rather evident signs of dissipation to spoil his looks. Perhaps, that accounted for other things.
In London, too this year I was thrilled one summer morning by the notes of "Danny Boy" floating in through the open window of a friend's West End flat. It was sung by a young man with the most glorious tenor voice, and he was accompanied by a friend and partner, who played on an organ or harmonium.
Both, I learnt afterwards, were old friends and comrades; had been through the war, and, after the Armistice and demobilisation, had joined the Auxiliary Division of the R.I.C. Again demobilised after the truce, they had signed on as members of the Palestine Corps of Gendarmes. And after three or four years of that country they had come to street-singing? After all the glorious striving and high adventure, let us hope they make a good thing of it!
"Danny Boy" owes it chief charm to its musical setting, which is really the old Irish "Londonderry Air." Katharine Tynan, in her lovely verses, "Would God I Were a Tender Apple Blossom," has given us a much more charming verbal setting, arranged by Villiers Stanford, to the haunting old Irish melodies.
The Irish Times
October 30th, 1928.