The late Felix Weingartner was the last of a generation of European super-conductors, and his recent death means the end of a musical era, as well as a great loss to Columbia. He, and his contemporaries, Seidl, Mahler, Mottl, etc., grew up in Germany when Germany was cock of the musical roost and knew it. They worked under Liszt in Weimar, they learnt their Wagner opera in Bayrenth under the eye of the "Master," and in the flush post-war days they made Salzburg a summer Mecca for European big-wigs, where Mozart and Beethoven had to fight Schiaparell for the center of the stage. Of all this illustrious company of conductors, Weingartner was perhaps the most talented, and it is to Columbia's everlasting credit that they went to Europe to have him record their heavy classics rather than luring some second-rate American away from Victor's ranks. His recordings of the Brahms First, the Beethoven Eighth and Ninth are record performances that may never be bettered.

As a memorial album, Columbia has just released his recording of "Siegfried's Rhine Journey" and the "Funeral March" from "Gotterdammerung," with the Paris Conservatory orchestra. Although the players are clearly second-rate, both works are performed with a real feeling for what the music represents, and without the pomposity that most conductors seem to think is inseparable from Wagner.

Speaking of Wagner, Columbia has signed Melchior up, and just released his first recorded attempt at "Otello." The album comprises the monologue and death scene, along with Rienzi's prayer, and the song from the second act of "Tristan" beginning "O Koenig." These records show that he is the only tenor in circulation who could do this tremendous role anything like full justice. His Italian isn't all it might be, and his style is a little heavy in spots, but the necessary power and brilliance are there. The best of this new album of his is, of course, the "Tristan" excerpt. It's that wonderful scene where Tristan, knowing he is going to die, invites Isolde to follow him into "dasdunkel nacht'ge Land, daraus die Mutter einst mich sandt," and Melchior renders it with the perfect shade of dusky "Weltschmerz."