ABSTRACT
Having reached a position where she could do so without drawing undue attention to herself, Jelly brought out as many pieces new to the public as she could, to draw attention to them. A few weeks later in Glasgow Jelly had a shock. She had arrived to play, as she thought, one of the Mozart Concerti with the Scottish Orchestra. The posters said Mendelssohn. Quick enquiries showed that this was in fact what she had to play. The version Jelly played was edited by a Hungarian violinist, Tivadar Nachez, who lived in London in the nineteenth century. By now it must be coming clear, quite apart from Jelly’s astonishing technique, how widely she could give the right sound to the written ideas of many types of composer. Her secret was that of all good (and not many) actors, orators, preachers, readers, announcers, compères, comedians and even lovers.
