Jack Benny at Massey Hall

Jack Benny arrived at Toronto’s Malton Airport where he was to be greeted by 50 children playing “Love in Bloom” on their violins. Instead, the Toronto Star reported the children swarmed around him on the cold tarmac, waving their instruments like baseball bats. Jack then whipped out a 1729 Stradivarius—and serenaded the kids!

He was a busy Benny toward the end of 1957. He was playing a number of charity shows to raise money for the State of Israel, and he and George Burns accompanied the production of “One Foot in the Door” on its pre-Broadway tour; the two had invested money in it. Organisers of the Bond Drive hoped to raise $3,000,000 during the duration of their campaign. His concert at Massey Hall set a world record for a single performance as it brought in $987,000. $300 got you a ticket to the show, $25,000 gave you a chance to meet Benny afterward.

John Kraglund reviewed the November 12, 1957 concert for the Toronto Globe and Mail. Critics of the fine arts can get a little snooty but Kraglund is tongue-in-cheek, having enjoyed the performance. Here’s his column.

Any doubts about Jack Benny’s right to be called a great violinist were completely routed when he made his Canadian debut as a concert artist with the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Walter Susskind, at Massey Hall, last night. Assisting artist on the program was soprano Mimi Benzell.
As to Mr. Benny’s status as a violinist, what better evidence could there be than the box office sale of $987,700 (in State of Israel Bonds), claimed by the soloist as the “largest gross for any concert in history and I think Heifetz ought to be ashamed of himself.” Furthermore, Mr. Benny has a very fine violin—a Stradivarius—which carried some weight.
These material things aside, there was also his ability to walk on stage like a great artist, even though he forgot his bow the first time; his regal bearing and scant acknowledgement of the thunder of applause that greeted his entrance; his quick show of temperament when irritated by little things like having concertmaster Hyman Goodman take over the solo part in Sarasate’s Zigeunerweisen; and his artistic liberty with tempo, dynamics and even melody.
Occasional weaknesses may have been in evidence here and there, but surely the fault must have lain elsewhere. Mr. Benny could scarcely have been to blame because Mr. Susskind and the orchestra could not always keep up with him. Nor should he be criticized for dismissing Mr. Goodman and the other first desk violinist, Isidore Desser, especially when they seemed to do the things Mr. Benny was supposed to do—with less difficulty.
Another dismissal—that of the cymbalist—was certainly appropriate after he drowned out, not only the soloist, but the entire orchestra. There have been occasions when we wished we were in a similar position of authority. And we should have been as startled, and a bit hurt, if a stage hand we had summoned were to pick up our violin, play a few bars on it, and nod his approval—had we not known that he was violinist Anthony Ginter from the second violin section of the orchestra.
Granted, Mr. Benny’s attributes were mostly extraordinary for a violinist—like his changing of the cello section so that beautiful, blond Olga Kwasniak was in the first chair, where he—as concertmaster in Rimsky-Korsakoff’s Capriccio Espagnole—could see her more easily. Such a move could not but endear him to male members of the audience.
Perhaps he was right when, after his performance, he said, “I’ve got a lot of guts, haven’t I?” Certainly he has a great deal of charm and the spontaneous warmth of an entertainer who has been a leading comedian longer than most of us can remember. In addition to donating his services to the cause of the State of Israel Bond Committee, sponsors of the concert, he provided 2,800 persons with a thoroughly enjoyable evening, and suggested to Mr. Susskind that he appear on Mr. Benny’s TV show, because he is a great conductor and “has such great sex appeal.”
The program chosen for the event was an ideal one—light-hearted without being banal—including the first movement of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto, Smetana’s overture to The Bartered Bride, Bizet’s L’Arlesienne Suit and the two violin numbers already mentioned.
Miss Benzell, a familiar lady of song, was heard in the Ah, Fors E Lui—Sempre Libera from Verdi’s La Traviata; Una Voce from Rossini’s The Barber of Seville; and the Laughing Song from Strauss’ Die Fledermaus. She has considerable charm and a great deal of flamboyant vitality.
Her performance was notable for the warmth of her middle voice register, the brilliance of some sustained high notes, a fine sense of melodrama which dictated her musical sense and a fascinating right hand—frequently elevated.
But it was Mr. Benny’s evening. We could not say whether Mr. Susskind and the TSO played well, since we, like they, were too broken up by the solo violinist’s performance. And for those who may still be in doubt, we should like to add that Mr. Benny really was playing the violin, not just pretending while someone else made the sounds.