The Cavalcade of America, presented by DuPont. The Cavalcade of America Wednesday comes again, and once more the Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont welcomes millions of listeners. Summertime is a season of romance and music with echoes of dreamy tunes in silver moonlight. And our program will appeal to everyone who loves sweet melodies. It tells the story of Victor Herbert. Curious indeed is the coincidence that marks the Cavalcade of America today. The director of our orchestra, Harold Levy, was for many years an associate and close friend of Victor Herbert. And under the famous composer's supervision, he has often conducted orchestras playing the same music that will touch your hearts this evening. Thus we see that the Cavalcade of America today is inseparably linked with the past, a handing on of ideals, whether it be in music or any other walk of life. In science too, knowledge and inspiration is passed on from generation to generation. And DuPont chemists carry on the high traditions of American chemical research, as expressed in the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. This evening we select from the Cavalcade of America, the man who can truly be called the master of American operetta. Victor Herbert was born in Dublin, Ireland, February 1st, 1859, the son of an Irish barrister and grandson of Samuel Lover, famous poet, artist, and novelist. Shortly after the boy's birth, his father died, and his mother moved to her father's home at Seven Oaks, a suburb of London, England. Here we find young Victor in his eighth year. What are you doing, Victor? Trying to play one of grandfather's songs. It's pretty, isn't it? As she sat in her lonely car. You know, Mother, I'm going to write music someday. But Victor, we've planned that you're to be a doctor. Just think, dear, what wonderful things doctors can do. Well, grandfather's music is wonderful too, Mother. Don't all the artists and musicians in London come and applaud when he plays for them? I'd like that all right. As she sat in her lonely car. The man at the time played for a... I just can't seem to find that bar note. It's G natural, Victor. G natural. Father, you startled me. I didn't see you come in. Hello, grandfather. I've been standing here listening to you and the boy talking about his future. So, you want to be a musician, Victor? Yes, grandfather, just like you. Please sit down now and show me how to play the low back car. All right. You want to be just like me, eh? Why, I'm just a jack of all trades, lad. I paint a little, write a little, compose a little. You must concentrate on music to succeed. This song will never be remembered like the works of the great masters. Everybody here whistles at grandfather. You told me that even in America they ask you to sing it. Ay, America. It is a great country, my boy. And they treated me royally there. Perhaps someday you'll go to America, Victor. Remember, Fanny, what that old gypsy fortune teller prophesied at the boy's birth, that he'd become his country's greatest composer. And do you mind what fortune tellers and gypsies say? Ah, sometimes they see things that we can't. Eh, if you want to be a real musician, Victor, you must work, you must study. Music is not an easy master. I would like to really study music, but Victor... Ah, it's a thought, Fanny. The boy comes from a family that loves music. You yourself could have been a great pianist if you'd been willing to practice. When our friend Piaci was playing his cello, I watched the boy, his young head beating time and his little eyes popping out of their socket. Ah, if he could be a great cellist like Piaci. Why not? Wouldn't you be proud if you heard your boy as a soloist of some great symphony orchestra, perhaps play in one of his own concertos for vast audiences in Paris, Berlin, London, Vienna, even in far-off America. At the insistence of his famous grandfather, young Victor Herbert received a musical education in Germany. His quick mastery of the cello made him the life of the great cellist Bernhard Kostman, whose sole pupil he was for several years. Before he was 25, young Victor had been first cellist and soloist in many of the concert orchestras of Europe, playing under the direction of such master musicians as Brahms, Liszt, Vassar, and Delibes. At 27, we find him at the orchestra of the Court Opera in Vienna. One of his duties is to accompany the singers when they practice. In her apartment, the young and beautiful prima donna of the opera company, Bruella and Theresa Färster, has just finished rehearsing a Wagnerian solo. Have I practiced long enough to suit you today, Victor? Yes, Theresa. I think that will be enough. Nothing but the best satisfies you, does it? Nothing but the best, Liebchen. That is why I hope someday you will marry me. Oh, I have told you, Victor dear, that I would marry you any time you say. I would be proud to tell all of Germany that I am engaged to that handsome young cellist, at whom all the ladies make sheep-pies. Oh, oh, oh, oh. You haven't even let me announce our engagement. Later, Theresa. As yet, I am only a poor cellist, and you, you are one of the great singers at the Court Opera. Poor cellist, indeed. You know you're a great soloist and a fine composer. You've often told me how Max Beifried said you learned as much about composition in three months as other pupils took six years to master. Oh, you're really a great man, Victor. Someday, dear. Someday I'll write an opera that will make you proud. Come in. Herr Frank Damrosch, freiland. I was expecting him. Ask him to come in, please. Ja, freiland. Herr Damrosch, is he not from America? Yes, Victor. From the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. They have asked me to become a member of the company. You go to America? They want me to go, Victor, but I think I will stay here, in Vienna. But, Theresa, you... Herr Damrosch, freiland first. Herr Damrosch, I am glad to see you. This is Herr Victor Herbert, first cellist of the opera company. He often comes to coach me. Herr Herbert, I have heard you and admired your play. Thank you, sir. Well, freiland first, have you decided? Yes, mein Herr, I have decided. Good, you go to America. No, Herr Damrosch, I think not. But, freiland first, do you realize what a magnificent opportunity this is? The first German opera season at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. And a salary much more than you would ever receive here. Not many young prima donnas would refuse an offer like this. You see, I am not thinking of pain and fortune. I am thinking of leaving my fiancé. But, Theresa, this means much to you. I have heard of this opera season, Herr Damrosch speaks of. You would have a chance to work with his father, the great Leopold Damrosch. And you would work with Richard Wagner's friend Anton Seidel. You are familiar with the plans I see, Herr Herbert. Can't you persuade freiland first? I would go only on one condition. That you engage my future husband too. But who is he, freiland? Some singer, some... Oh, I thought you knew. I am on a date with the marriage of Herr Herbert. Oh, that is different. We shall find a place for Herr Herbert too. My father would be glad to have such a fine first cellist in his orchestra. I shall make all arrangements. And may I congratulate you both. My visitation. Thank you. What are you thinking of this show? A marriage, sir. My grandfather told me so much about it. I wonder if they like me there. Yes. Though in 1886, Victor Herbert and his bride came to New York, and it was not long before he became an American citizen, for he was sure America would always be his home. He became assistant conductor to Anton Seidel, who encouraged him in his conducting and his composition. But it was in the spring of 1894 that the turning point of his life came. He met William MacDonald, head of the famous comic opera company The Bostonians. Their friendship grew, and one day in New York, MacDonald is talking with Herbert. I don't know how to approach the subject to you, Victor. You know, we've been playing Robin Hood some time now. Can't last forever. We have to have a new operator for next season, and I think you're just the man to help us. Well, I don't know any comic opera composers to recommend. De Kopen has been so successful for you with Robin Hood. Why not get him to write another? No, no, just a moment. I wasn't asking you to recommend a composer, Victor. I was asking you to do the work yourself. You're asking me to write a score for a comic opera? Well, I don't think you'd find it beneath your dignity. I think you'd be an ideal choice. You're a master of melody. You're a fine musician. And the Bostonians aren't looking for anything cheap and tawdry. You've nothing against comic opera, have you? No, no, no, no. No, I'd like to try my hand at light opera. My mind is full of melodies that wouldn't belong anywhere else. Wait a minute. I can't play the piano very well, but something like this. Melodies filled with a thought of love and romance. Victor Herbert's first operetta, Prince Ananias, was not the success that the Bostonians expected. But from that moment, Herbert was in demand as a composer of comic operas. In quick succession followed The Wizard of the Niles, The Idol's Eye, and The Serenade, which later was one of the Bostonians' greatest successors. While writing these scores, Herbert also became leader of the famous 22nd Regiment Band, a successor to Patrick Gilmore. Possibly his most popular song of this period was in The Fortune Teller, an operetta written for the lovely soprano Alice Nielsen. Herbert's success enabled him to send for his mother. And we find him seated beside her in the theater as Eugene Cole, the vasso of The Fortune Teller Company, is singing Slumber on My Little Gypsy Sweetheart. Great mother, are you sorry you let me pick up music, huh? Oh, Victor, if you only knew how proud I am of you. And how proud your grandfather would be. Listen, doesn't that song about the little gypsy sweetheart make you think of the old gypsy prophecy when you were born? That someday you'd be the greatest musician of your country. But America is my country now, mother. Well, maybe the old gypsy meant America all the time. Ah, I've often thought about Ireland, mother, and going back there. And yet, I seem to belong to America. But someday perhaps I'll be able to write an Irish opera that grandfather would approve of. I've two great ambitions. To write an opera for the Metropolitan and an opera writer about Ireland. In 1898, Victor Herbert was appointed conductor of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra. And immediately, there was a protest from one of the prominent musical magazines of New York City. The New York City Symphony Orchestra was the first of its kind in New York. The orchestra was the first of its kind in New York. The orchestra was the first of its kind in New York. And the orchestra was the first of its kind in New York. And immediately, there was a protest from one of the prominent musical magazines of New York. Herbert was even accused of plagiarism in his writing. His musical honesty attack, Herbert sued the magazine and its editor for libel. And with his many musical friends appearing as witnesses, he won the verdict. By this time, he was a fixture in his profession. Such operas followed as The Singing Girl, The Amir, The Viceroy, The Best, and The Babes in Toilet. Remember always for his famous March of the Toys. The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont moves on. It is the year 1929, and the year of the 1929. It is the year 1905. Victor Herbert has written an opera for Fritzie Schaaf, Mlle. Modice. On the stage at rehearsal are gathered Charles B. Dillingham, the producer, Henry Balsam, The Labrettist, and Herbert himself. They are discussing one of Miss Schaaf's solos. Charming, of course, Victor, but I don't think it's one of your best. What do you think, Henry? Well, I think we're making too much fuss about the music of this song, C.B. I suppose to tell a story, you know. Yes, I know that. The heroine is explaining what she'd like to do on the stage. First she'd play a simple, lighthearted girl, then a prima donna, then a romantic part. You haven't objected to the gavotte in the first part, or the polonese in the second part, and yet you don't like the waltz. Is it important enough? Well, I think we can make it do, C.B. The words I've written are just banal enough to point up the idea. Sweet summer breeze, whispering trees. That tune came to me so spontaneously, I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote it down. I think the public will like it. Listen to it again. After all, we aren't the ones who'll make the final decision. It'll be the public. And the public did decide. Kiss Me Again was Victor Herbert's best seller. His fame was assured. Other operettas that brought him success were It Happened at Nordland, The Red Mill, The Primadonna, The Rose of Algeria, Naughty Marietta, and The Enchantment. And then in February 1911, one of his great ambitions was to be fulfilled. The scene is the Philadelphia Opera House, and we find Victor Herbert with Andres Dippel, the director of the Chicago Opera Company, and Joseph Redding, opera. Well, Victor, Natoma's going on at last. It's been a long put, Joe. Hammerstein wouldn't have our opera for his Manhattan Opera House. The Metropolitan turned it down. If it hadn't been for our good friend Dippel here, we'd still be looking for a producer. Well, maybe so many of her futiles will bring you luck. We've been fortunate so far. We have Mary Garden and John McCormick for the principal role. And Joe's libretto is colorful and dramatic. My book's the only thing I'm afraid of. But then Victor has the reputation of making his music succeed in spite of a bad door. It's the music that counts in grand opera. Well, when you gentlemen finish complementing each other, may I say that as the producer, I predict a first night triumph for us all. And now, if Miss Garden doesn't mind, we'll do the dagger dance once more for good measure. I'll tell Mr. Campanini. Excuse me. How do you feel, Victor, having someone else conduct your first grand opera? I think it's just as well. I'm afraid conducting one's own grand opera would be a trifle nerve-wracking, huh? There's no better conductor than Campanini if he'll just watch the cello play. The drama was a success at its opening, and Dippel soon brought it to the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, thus fulfilling one of Herbert's greatest ambitions. After Natomas came more musical comedies. The Lady of the Slipper, the Madcap Duchess, Sweethearts, Angel Face, Princess Pats, and The Only Girl. It is February 1, 1901, and the first of the great opera operas in the world. The opera was first performed in the New York Opera House in New York, and the opera was first performed in the New York Opera House in New York, where the opera was performed by the Princess Pats and The Only Girl. It is February 1, 1917. Herbert is in his New York home, talking with Mrs. Herbert, when outside in the street they hear the sound of music. Listen, Victor, that is no ordinary street band. Ah, well, that isn't a band at all. It's an orchestra. I hear the strings. Yeah, it's a good orchestra, too. Yeah, and they're playing opera, The Only Girl. Well, open the window, dear. We will be able to hear it better. Yes, but I'm afraid I'll have to go. I'll have to go. I'll have to go. I'll have to go. I'll have to go. I'll have to go. I'll have to go. We will be able to hear it better. Yes, I know. Victor, come look. Yes, what is it? Your whole orchestra. Oh, it is. What are they doing here? I know. It's your birthday and they've come to serenade you, like your orchestra in Citroën. Oh, okay. See, they see. Yes. Three, two, one, Victor, hurry up! Come in, boys. Don't stand out there in the cold. Come in. Someone open the door for them. Get some refreshments. Someone will open the door for you in a minute, boys. That's what I call a wonderful surprise. It means they love you, Victor. Good boys, all of them. I'm pretty severe with them, but they know I'm fond of them. I hope they can all get inside. We'll get them all in. I just see that they have plenty of refreshments. I will. Just listen to them. Just listen to that chatter. Nobody in the whole world can talk as much or as loud as an orchestra. I'll go downstairs and join them. Here he is! Happy birthday to the maestro! Happy birthday to the maestro! Me! Me! Me! Gentlemen, gentlemen, you know, you know I write music better than I speak. This is a beautiful sort of yours. I am 58 today. Oh, yes, yes, yes. That's what the calendar says. I don't believe it. And in all my life, I've never had a more touching tribute. And I want to tell you, boys, I appreciate it. I am an American and I hope a good one. But I think there's enough Irish left in me not to be ashamed of the tears I can't keep out of my eyes. Mrs. Herbert is scaring up some refreshments for you all. You know, you should have tipped her off. You were planning a surprise like this. And while she's getting them, I want to ask you if you won't play something for me. Of course we will! I'll leave it to you. But something popular. Personally, I feel that anything that isn't popular isn't of great benefit to the world. You've proved that, Mr. Herbert. Boys, how about playing something from Mr. Herbert's new opera, Eileen? Yes, that's a good idea. Oh, will you lead us, Mr. Herbert? Better still, boys, I will play with you. Who do you like in my cello, Mr. Herbert? No, no, no, keep yours, my boy. I'll use my own. You keep with me now. Yes, sir. All right, we will. Are you all ready now? All right, let's go. Victor, the refreshments will be ready in a few minutes. All right, Lipson. We'll be pretty with the music for a time. Just think, another of my ambitions. I'm going to have to get the music ready. I've written an Irish opera, and my friends come to play it. Just as grandfather and lover's friends came to play his songs. I hope that dear old man can look down from above and feel the good stuff he gave me. A Victor Herbert, it has been said, he never wrote a vulgar note. During his later years with the coming of jazz, he feared that his popularity would fade, but he adapted himself to the new style, and his suite of three serenades is one of the finest compositions of modern harmonies. Today, Victor Herbert's music is among the best love of any that is heard on the radio, and his place as a master of melody is secure in the cavalcade of America. DuPont hopes that you have enjoyed the story and the music of Victor Herbert as much as we have enjoyed presenting them. The other day a listener wrote to DuPont and said, I used to think that chemistry had to do only with manufacturing, but after hearing your radio program, I now understand how it has helped me in my own home. Well, here's another example. The story of some remarkable new products of chemical research that probably will revolutionize laundering, dishwashing, and similar household work. They are cleaning agents of a soap-like character called detergent. Soap is a detergent, but these new products are often referred to as soapless soap. They produce a beautiful lather, but they do not contain any of the fats used in ordinary soap. Their chemical composition is entirely different. In hard water, ordinary soap makes a sort of scum. That's what causes the ring around the bathtub, which, as nearly everyone knows, is no fun to scrub off. But these new soapless soaps work in the hardest water, even in seawater. Anyone who has ever had to wash dishes knows that glasses ordinarily are washed first. In spite of that precaution, however, the glasses, when they come out of the water, are usually covered with a dingy film that has to be rubbed off with a dish towel. This film is mostly lime and comes from the hard water. But when these new detergents are used for dishwashing, this dull film is removed completely. Glasses may even be washed last and still come out sparkly. They don't need a bit of polishing when washed in the new soapless soap. These detergents are also important to many industries, such as textile mills, leather goods factories, paper mills, and metal plants. Wherever cleaning has to be done in preparing products for the market. DuPont supplies them only to industries. But another manufacturer is packaging these new detergents in household form. One called DREF, B-R-E-F-T, is recommended particularly for cleansing silks, woolens, and fine fabrics because it cleanses thoroughly, yet is mild and harmless to all washable colors. Another called DREAM, B-R-E-N-E, is in liquid form and is made especially to give billowy suds as a shampoo. This product will appeal to women who have had to cope with sticky hard water in washing their hair. DREAM solves that problem completely, leaves the hair soft and with a beautiful luster. These new detergents, which have only recently been placed on the market, are one more illustration of the DuPont phrase, better things for better living through chemistry. ["The New Detergent"] Beginning next week at the same time, DuPont will present the first of a special summer series, the Cavalcade of America in Music. These programs will trace the origin and development of orchestral and band music in America. They will contain short dramatic episodes and examples of popular concert music. For the first group of these summer programs, DuPont is pleased to announce America's foremost bandmaster, Arthur Pryor, and his band. Remember the time, 8 o'clock Eastern Daylight Time, next Wednesday evening. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. ["The New Detergent"] WABC, New York.
