 The Voice of America presents the Halls of Ivy, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. This is Ronald Coleman. And Benita Coleman. Inviting you to join us again on the campus of Ivy College. Ivy College is a serious responsibility, entailing as it does the care and mental feeding of some hundreds of future citizens. It's therefore a happy and therapeutic event when a president, in this case, Dr. William Todd Hunter Hall, Ivy's head man, can come home to his lovely wife, in this case, Victoria Hall, smiling and happy over an amusing incident, as he says. Of course it may be that the cares of my office and the familiarity with the usual daily routine make odd or amusing incidents seem odder and more amusing than they really are. But this one I think I can stand the acid test of repetition. Well, come on, don't you stand giggling to yourself. What's it about? Nudes. Nudes? You mean hickory nudes, wall nudes and coca nudes? No, no, no. I'm not talking about nuts, I said nudes. A nute is a betrachean akin to the lizard and the salamander, found along the banks of streams. Well, you'll excuse me if I don't care to meet any. With me, no nudes is good nudes. I admit they are not to be listed among nature's beauties, but for biologists they hold a tremendous attraction. Because of their peculiar ability to recreate and regenerate lost parts of themselves, legs, tails and so on. Why, they're clever little things. Well, what happened about them that amused you so much? Well, I, I met a student. A young Charles Goldring. Well, the last time I saw him, he was barely scraping by financially. Rather threadbare, always hungry, working long hours to pay his way. Now he is resplendent in new clothes, a chartreuse convertible and a big man on campus. He is a biology student. He collects nudes. Couldn't you say, come on, get to the plot? Oh, it's a simple one, Vicki, rags to riches. Well, it seems that he assumed that other science students might be interested in his collection. So he photographed them in color, bought five minutes airtime on X, Y, V, Y and offered copies of the photographs for sale. As I remember it, the, the sales talk was something like special this week, nude photos in full color. He said, he said it was a must for biology students. Naturally, yes. Well, young Goldring said he couldn't print them fast enough. He was amazed that so many students were students of biology. It just goes to prove, as John Hale Haldane claimed, that science is vastly more stimulating for the imagination than are the classics. Well, speaking of classics, Louisa is cooking you a surprise dessert for dinner. Oh, something with a pronounced flavor of vanilla. I think so. How did you guess? Oh my darling, that was no guess. All her desserts are flavored with vanilla. I think I shall send her an anonymous letter containing the facts of life about chocolate, maple and cherry. Oh, it's ominously quiet out in the kitchen, even for making dessert. I wonder if it's later than you think or earlier than I think. Well, I don't know dear. I forgot to wind my watch last night and I set it by dead reckoning this morning. I woke up, reckoning I was dead and set the hand. You know, it must be nearly four. Turn on the radio, Toddy. The campus station will give us the time. You know, we really should listen to our station more often. Yeah. After all, it's the voice of Ivy, isn't it? Louisa, this is really the trout. I wonder if it's a record. Yeah. It's a very mature voice. Kind of, isn't it? Major in the Ivy Department of Music. Miss Coulter was accompanied at the piano by Ray Turner, also of the Music Department. Oh, don't be gallant, huh? Again next week at the same time when we present another in our series of afternoon concerts. It is exactly four o'clock by the library tower. Four o'clock. There we are. Now we can synchronize the vanilla dessert with the library tower. And now station XIVY takes pleasure in presenting Professor Heelslip, head of the Department of English at Ivy College. Oh, no! Professor Heelslip's subject for this afternoon is hunting for humor in the sonnets of Shakespeare. Oh! Oh! Hunting for humor in the son- Now, really? Well, Professor Heelslip goes after jokes like some men go after big game. He must have a room filled with trophies of the chess. Poor, stuffed and mounted little witticisms, staring down from the walls with glassy eyes and moth-eaten pelts. Yes. With little brass labels on all of them saying, this point was killed by Marvin Heelslip. But he means well. Oh, lucky you. Now, Louise, I'll have to answer the door. Maybe spoil your nice vanilla dessert. Won't I be ashamed if it turns out to be a vanilla dessert that I like? But really, doesn't it work? Mrs. Hall? Ah, Professor Zella, come here. Professor Zella, how nice to see you. Thank you. I hope I'm not disturbing you, Dr. Hall. Not at all. I sometimes regret that the music department functions so well. Such harmony deprives me of the chance to see you more often, Professor Zella. Yeah, but don't wait for discords to come and see us. I won't. As a matter of fact, the reason I dropped by is that the department had just received a new recording of a Bartok string quartet, which I thought that you'd want to hear, Mrs. Hall. I've also brought along this score. Oh, good, good. I'd love to follow the score and I'll listen to something new. Well, you're not alone in that, Mrs. Hall. Any important musical contribution must say new things in the language of our time. Yes. You're all saying that familiarity breeds contempt is but a half-truth. It arises only when the object under study, whether an individual or a musical composition, reveals itself as empty and pretentious. And thus does breed contempt. And when that kind of contempt is bred, it's awfully hard to get rid of the puppies. When the object turns out to have merit, then familiarity brings the rewards of a new and enriching experience. When, for instance, a new musical score is presented, if it is in too popular a vein, public familiarity may kill it with enthusiasm. If it is too esoteric, regardless of quality, acceptance may be so slow as to discourage the composer and become public domain before it... Professor, if I should accompany this lecture with colored slides and a piccolo obligato, do you think your music clouds can stay awake through it? No, Dr. Hall. I was wondering if I could persuade you to give up your presidency and join the music department. I could use you. He probably faces the music often as president, Professor Seller. You know, my classically-minded students consider me to be a partisan of modern music, as my modern-minded ones consider me an enthusiast of the classics. I am guilty on both counts. There are those who believe the three B's, Bach, Beethoven and Brahms, took the last of the honey from the hive and left it to the sterile drones. Though, of course, when I was a boy studying piano, I always referred to the three M's. The three M's? Yes, dear Mendelssohn, Mozart and me. By the way, Professor, we just had one of your music students and she had a lovely voice. Yes, yes. Her name was Marion Coulter. Oh, yes, Marion Coulter. Oh, she's such an excellent musician, Dr. Hall. Um, that's a pity. A pity? What seems to be the trouble? Well, last week she told me she was giving up music at the end of this semester. I couldn't get her to tell me why. She's not returning to Ivy next term, and I confess I'm completely baffled. Well, could it be some romantic trouble, do you think? No, I don't think so. A financial problem, perhaps? Well, I know that she recently helped another student who needed money, so that doesn't sound logical. What could it be? Well, she was very gay and lively when she first came to us as a transfer student, but before that, during the past year, she's become more and more quiet and subdued. She seems to have pulled back into some sort of a shell. Dr. Hall, I wish you'd try to talk to her. Yes, let's invite her over and tell her how much we enjoyed her singing, huh? Perhaps we should. After all, when I became dean of the college, wonderful old Dean Martin of the Graduate School said to me, William, one of the most difficult things you're going to have to learn in dealing with the students is to distinguish between idle curiosity and necessary inquiry. As an administrator, you must never use one as an excuse for the other. Oh, did you say that, Dean Martin? Dean Martin of Martin and Louis? Oh, my love, this was Everett Martin. Oh, Everett? Yes, he was dean of the Graduate School. A humorist, perhaps, but not a comedian. Dr. Hall is bringing you the presentation of the Hall of Surviving, starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Dr. Hall is just arriving at his home at number one faculty room. Vicky, Vicky, where are you? Your breadwinner has returned. Oh, no, breadwinner, did you win a lot of bread today? Ah, that's my love. That is a question which opens the oven door on a lot of half-baked buns, such as kneading the dough, too much crust and so forth. And, of course, the faded placard to be seen in a million sandwich shops. As you wander on through life, brother, whatever be your goal, keep your eye upon the donor. And not upon the whole. I commend you, my love, on your familiarity with the classics. Oh, you're wearing a poppy. Yes, poppy day, my darling. I bought this from the American Legion, and here is one for you, purchased just to be non-partisan from the veterans of foreign wars. There you are, my dear, with love, a poppy. From poppy to mummy. Well, thank you, poppy. How was the board meeting? As usual. Clarence Wellman was in one of his large economy-size moods. Hendricks was affable and full of charming, idiotic non-sequiturs. Wilson found the water cooler lacking in cups and spent the full time trying to fashion one out of a sheet of letter paper. Result to a wet necktie and an unsatisfied thirst. And a motion seconded but defeated that future stationery orders be made contingent on the waterproof quality of the paper. Mr. Meriwether was absent. Well, that takes care of the fun and frolic. How about the business? Did the chemistry department get its new lab? Yes, but the moot point, as always, was the sum to be spent. Mr. Wellman seems to labor under the delusion that fully equipped chemistry laboratories can be readily acquired at ladies' aid rummage sales, police auctions, or 10 cent stores. You must have been quite a jam session. Well, not at Clarence. No, he follows the Red Queen's famous rule, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today. And music reminds me. Did Marion Coulter call? Yes, yes, she did. She got your message and I asked her to drop by here at five o'clock. Had you found out anything more about her? Yes, and it all fits into the same baffling picture. She moved out of the dorm at the beginning of this semester and took a room by herself in one of the approved private houses. Mr. Everts, her faculty advisor, reports the same unexplained general retreat from... Now, that must be Marion. Louise, I'll get it. Vicki, if the girl isn't disposed to talk, I'm not going to impose upon her. After all, I must respect her persons. Oh, Mr. Maryweather, welcome home. Come in. Well, hello there. Hello, Mr. Maryweather. How nice to see you. Ma'am, if all your pupils are as glad to see you and your husband as mine are, you have a happy little college. Well, sit down, Charles, and give an account of yourself. You were AWOL for our faculty follies last week. We needed you. You heard about our follies, didn't you, Mr. Maryweather? Yes, yes, I did, ma'am, but I'd have been no help at all. No talent, Charlie, that's me. When I was ten years old, I could lay a fork against a spoon and flip the spoon into a water tumbler. But it never seemed to get me anywhere socially. I hope that wherever your trip took you, you were compensated for what you missed. Well, I wouldn't call it compensation, Bill. More like computation. I was settling a little income tax matter in Washington, D.C. and just got back. I didn't get much back. But these days, anything is something. Well, I used to complain, Mr. Maryweather. The seat of any government is the place to register the kicks. But the best part of Washington, D.C. is that you don't get shot in the morning for kidding about it. It's our own front yard, and if it gets full of weeds, who owns the lawnmower? We do. And if you're the kind of sentimental peasant that I am, you get a little misty-eyed at the flag over the Capitol Dome and you get pretty choked up at the Lincoln Memorial and a lump in your throat at the tomb of the unknown soldier. That's when you begin to realize that in Washington there may be things that are hard to swallow, but it's when you find it hard to swallow that you know it's a great country. In the next years, faculty follies, there will be top billing for Maryweather and his marvelous monologue house. Well, with that, I will make my exit as quickly and gracefully as possible while I still... Now, how's that for timing? One in, one out. I'm sorry I have an appointment, Charles. I would enjoy hearing more of your impressions of Washington. More, Bill. You're a glutton. Oh, come right in. Oh, I'm sorry, Father. Oh, you're your Marion Coater, aren't you? Yes. My wife, Mrs. Holland, is Mr. Charles Maryweather, aren't you? How do you do? I'm sorry if I interrupted. Young lady, I don't think anybody else is sorry. Well, goodbye, all. Glad to have made you, Miss Coater. Goodbye, Miss Maryweather. Goodbye, Miss Maryweather. Please sit down, Marion, won't you? Thank you. And thank you for responding so quickly to my note. Oh, it was a very nice note, Dr. Hall. I hoped my broadcast would bring at least one fan letter, but I certainly didn't expect one from the president. Well, you deserved it. And having met your voice, Dr. Hall, and I decided we wanted to meet you, too. Have you been studying long, Marion? Oh, yes, Mrs. Hall. I decided I wanted to be a singer a long time before my voice was ready for it. It's been my whole life. Hmm. Professor Zeller has told us that you were thinking of leaving the department. And Ivy. We're very sorry to hear it. Mrs. Hall, I... Well, it... You needn't tell us unless you wish to, Marion. But Mrs. Hall and I would like to help you if we can. I don't know. I just don't know. Well, if you don't, then don't. But I want to. I want to talk to somebody. Mrs. Hall, since last Christmas, I've been wearing a hearing aid. Oh, really? I didn't notice. Well, it's pretty well concealed under my hairdo. But I know it's there, even if other people don't see it. How hard these things die. Remember the resistance to eyeglasses? Now they have become a kind of costume jewelry. Yes, getting so that it almost seems indecent not to wear them. Coming around with bare eyelids. When you give someone something to read, and they say, just a moment, I'll put on my glasses, why you think nothing of it isn't that true? Well, yes. Then why shouldn't one be able to say just as easily? Just a moment while I turn up my hearing aid. One should, of course. You're perfectly right. But I'm a singer. So how can I think of going on in music when I'll never be sure just what I'm singing? But you're a musician, Marion. You should know the history of a man who, although unable to hear his greatest works, fulfilled his obligations as a creative artist until the moment of his death. Yes, Beethoven. But I'm not a composer. But if you feel insecure on the concert stage, there are many other things you can do. But what, Mrs. Hall? What can I do? Let me answer the question with a question. Why do you sing on the radio? I guess because loving music, I want other people to enjoy it too. I want to share it with them. Marion, you've just expressed the sense of communication of a born teacher. To know something and to wish to share that knowledge. So why leave music? Stay with it and teach it. Well, I suppose that's the thing for me to do. After all, as someone said, those who can do, those who cannot teach. That's a statement I find both inaccurate and flippant. Teaching is an art, a gift. Have you ever tried to explain a difficult idea to a group of very different human beings, people who want very much to understand you and whose understanding you must reach? No, I haven't. Well, you tried one way, no response, a row of blank faces. Then you come at the idea from a different direction. There's a quickening of interest, but you know you're not there yet. The third or fourth or fifth time, you hit on something which is a link between what they already know and what you are trying to tell them. Then the eyes suddenly light up. They smile and nod at each other, or sometimes they frown and challenge you angrily, but you have touched them. You've broken through, communicated. Then you are Lieutenant Rosen delivering the message to Garsher. You've reached Nome with a serum. You're Lindberg landing in Paris. And Tallulah with a big curtain line. Oh, you make it sound really exciting. Believe me, Marion, teaching is one of the most important and dramatic of careers. As Henry Adams once said, a teacher affects eternity. He can never tell where his influence stops. That's a wonderful concept. And I'm very grateful to you both. You've given me a great deal to think about. I already know one thing. I'm not leaving Ivy. Well, good. It is really up to me now, isn't it? Yes. Sound is merely a matter of receiving vibrations, Marion. And when you start responding to the vibrations of a student audience, you'll be hearing some wonderfully satisfying music. And you'll still see your name in lights, shining from the eyes of a thousand grateful youngsters. Life will acquire a new flavor. A flavor that... Victoria, is Louisa cooking a... I mean, that fragrance, is it? Yes, dear. It's vanilla. This production of The Halls of Ivy was broadcast with an actual audience present in the studio.