Word: tenoritis
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Malenkov began with a beaming report of the "wonderful,"' "talented" and "hospitable" British people he had met. Then for 40 minutes he fielded questions from some 300 newsmen (the biggest press conference in London's history), answering the questioners quickly in his sharp tenor and smiling so steadily that one reporter said it made his own face ache just watching. Questions covered everything. A newshen asked his impressions of English women. He chuckled jovially: "It was difficult for me to make love to English women through an interpreter...
...tenor makes a fresh debut . . . Exclamations of pleasure and surprise greet his first melody . . . yet this is but the prelude to the emotions he is to stir before the evening is over . . . A number comes during which the daring artist, stressing each syllable, gives out some high chest notes with a resonant fullness, an expression of heart-rending grief, and a beauty of tone that so far nothing had led one to expect. A petrified silence reigns in the house, people hold their breath, amazement and admiration are. blended in a mood akin to fear. There is, in fact, reason...
This time concert gets to halfway point without trouble. Then Hampton calls for Flying Home. Band responds. Music gets hotter. Saxophonist gets up for solo, squirms, twists, flops, lies on back, feet up. Critic for Algemeen Handelsblad makes note for next day's review: "Tenor saxophonist lies on ground and copulates with his shimmering instrument." Hampton rattles drumsticks on his soles. Calls out "Hey bob-a-reebob!" Crowd calls (Dutch accent) "Hey bob-a-reebob!" Fellow cries "Louder, louder...
Serenade (Warner) seems to indicate that humpty-dumpty Tenor Mario Lanza has put himself together again. He had a great fall several years ago when he rolled off the top of the heap for no apparent reason but his own fat-over 250 lbs. of it, with an undue proportion apparently located in the head. This picture proves that he is still the biggest thing in the cinemusic business: at "singing weight" (240 lbs.), he looks like a colossal ravioli set on toothpicks, and his face, aflame with rich living, has much the appearance of a gigantic red pepper...
...most skilled of Britain's popular storytellers, has a fine, spare ear for the speech and the manners of that kind of Englishman who can accuse one another of cowardice, dishonesty or moral turpitude without raising their voices, missing a mouthful of lunch, or disturbing the even tenor of their friendship...