Word: glades
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...Chicago Opera last week, Kiepura was scheduled to sing opposite another Carmen: sloe-eyed Contralto Coe Glade. In rehearsal, Kiepura carefully pulled his punches. Annoyed, Contralto Glade avowed that she was no sissy and could take anything Contralto Swarthout could, and maybe a little more. "Put that in writing," demanded Kiepura. Contralto Glade promptly wrote: "You may consider this your release of any criticism on my part for any physical damage I may receive tonight as the result of your usually vigorous and dynamic portrayal of Don José. The public does not want nor does it expect a polite...
Kiepura that night was a Don José without restraint. But the score, as the curtain fell: no knockouts. The judge's decision (by Critic Claudia Cassidy): "Miss Glade was supple, audacious, and sure of herself, singing in the wild mezzo that can range from voluminously lovely to something as fuzzy...
...charity, opera's Tenor Jan Kiepura, Contralto Coe Glade, Basso Douglas Beattie pulled Salvation Army caps down over their identities, stood on a busy Chicago street corner for ten minutes and gave out with song. (Kiepura hummed in somewhat uncharitable economy of his voice.) The melody was golden, but the take was only $2. "It wasn't bad," said Beattie afterwards, "considering the fact that people walking by on the street are intent on other things...
...policeman turned back in time to be thrown into the local jail. "The local troops, all twelve of them, had been away. ..." Mr. Corell, the popular storekeeper, had donated a lunch, targets, cartridges and prizes for a shooting match six miles back in the hills in a pretty glade that he owned. The local troops, "big, loose-hung boys" (a hallmark of Steinbeck heroes), saw the planes and parachutes and ran back to town in time to be machine-gunned. That ended the first phase of the invasion...
...Arrado planes, cruising so insolently low, observing every confused movement of French troops and of artillery, added to the Frenchmen's sense of German omnipotence and omniscience. "It was not a war, but a hunt." Habe's captain lost his head, ordered his men into a glade which was just right "for a solitary pair of lovers and not for two companies of infantry." Once the men were nicely crowded there, their heads buried in the damp, rich ground, the German artillery cut loose on them...