- Falkoner Centret -

Judy Garland's Triumph
By Herbert Steinthal - Politiken

How was she then?  Before Judy Garland's long awaited first appearance in Copenhagen the air was thick with rumors that the star was no longer a star, that she had not only lost her voice but also that she could no longer even get through her program at all.  And so she stood suddenly there on Falkoner Centret's enormous stage and disproved all the rumors in the world.  After only a few minutes she held the entire hall in the palm of her hand.

And that was no "warmed up" hall she came to either.  In the three-quarters of an hour and before intermission Johnny Ray had sobbed in a loud voice somewhat the worse for wear until one almost became sick of him.  He was so energetic and also so completely technical but proved only that the man is devoid of personality.

All that he lacked radiated from the little woman who immediately filled the air with electricity.  She was slim and gracious in her red pants suit under a flowing feather-trimmed robe.  The great brown eyes sparkled in the little gamin face.  Chatting, while she ruffled her hair with small, quick movements, relaxed and nonchalant in manner, concentrating on her show program - that is Judy Garland as we know her from her films.  "Come on get happy" - there is nothing here to indicate for even one instant any sign of collapse.  Her voice is in truth under control and bright with infectious vitality.  It strikes sparks in "Chicago" and "San Francisco".  The latter, which Judy Garland began with a comical vigor reminiscing of Jeanette MacDonald, simply got one's heart to beat with local patriotism.  Humor bubbled in "Baby with Your Dixie Melody" and in the impudent verses about the girl who dreams of doing something really wicked "I'd Love to Hate Myself in the Morning".  ("The first new song I've learned since the days of the Vikings", explained Judy.)

Enthusiasm was so great that a spectator in the back of the hall shouted at the top of his lungs - "I love you".  We all agreed, though in silence.  If there were any in the Centret who did not know that Judy Garland has found her sixth husband, they had that information shoved down their throats by the infatuated Judy.  Twice the curly haired slightly embarrassed consort was called to and dragged to the stage to be kissed and assured of her love.  The finest expression of this was in the song she dedicated to him "for once in my life somebody needs me" and sang with poignant warmth and intensity.

For 50 minutes we enjoyed the rhythmic finesse of Judy Garland's song.  Time after time Tony Osborne's 29 man orchestra played her signature melody but it seemed that she didn't want to sing it.  After a large number of curtain calls she finally gave in to the deepest wish of the audience.  She sat herself down on the stage floor and began to sing "Somewhere, Over the Rainbow".  It was as though she sang it for the first time, with a fervent innocence and sweetness.  It was so lovely that tears came to one's eyes. All the spectators arose and cheered Judy Garland.  She had a great triumph.

At the close of the Judy Garland concert Tuesday evening in Falkoner Centret an attendant came forward with a wreath of flowers shaped in the likeness of the famous rainbow that Garland sings about in "Somewhere Over the Rainbow".   The familiar melody was played again and again during the evening.  The big star of the 40's and 50's (Easter Parade, A Star is Born,  and Meet Me in St. Louis) was a huge success.  Rumor had it that Garland's health was precarious, but between the routine numbers (which, it seemed, were gone through very rapidly) there were moments of great entertainment.

And we could well have dispensed with Garland's new-aquired husband who, in displaying his youth under the illuminating spotlight, revealed that, in spite of it all, it has been some time since the star was born.

Judy Garland came to Copenhagen yesterday and got through her show at Falkoner Centret.  Before her emergence on the platform there was a full hour's warm up by singer Johnny Ray, who sang a series of perennial songs to the accompaniment of the orchestra.  Yet during the intermission the question was openly heard:  Will she be on the stage at all...?!

So famous has she become.  And famous too for not showing up, as a result of a lot of affectation and prima donna whims, naturally; of arrogant and rude exchanges with a long suffering public.  What should we do if she now failed to appear...?

But she was there.  Mr. Ray had thanked us for coming to see him.  That was a bit too much (conceited).  The public, motivated largely by curiosity, had come to see Judy Garland.  She was the one they had come to see and they wondered "would she be the ghost of herself?"

She was herself.  Her distinctive personality was intact.  As a show star she is the typical American.  This is reflected in our eyes by bad external particulars, an exhausting "private life" - for which the American idolization of stars created soil - but n back of all this gleams Judy Garland's talent, vigorous as before.

Her microphone technique is dazzling her mode of delivery strong and glowing; her personal charm incontrovertible (indisputable).  She was dressed in a simple fireweed but not gaudy pants suit without a grandiose (elaborate) hairdo; she was just herself - without anything not belonging to her type.  She flung her hit songs into the microphone in a way that produced dramatic and brilliant effects, or she chatted quietly and intimately, apparently conscious (aware), a little awkwardly, uncertain, but at the same time witty, warm and winning all hearts.  There were the old standbys - "Just in Time", "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", "San Francisco".

The applause was long and persistent.  Judy Garland appeared to think she should show her new husband.  He did not come forward but joined the audience in its tumultuous applause.  The ladies in the row behind the undersigned thought that was awfully sweet.  And so, of course, it was good and proper.