Francois D'Albert, Hungarian-born violinist who made his New York debut three years ago, played a return engagement last night in Judson Hall.
He is now president of the Chicago Conservatory College.
His pianist was Donald Jenni, a faculty member at DePaul University.

The acoustics of the small hall had been misgauged by the artists, so that for the first half of the program, when the piano was partially open, Mr. Jenni's playing was too loud.
In vying with him, Mr. D'Albert also seemed to be overdriving his tone.

This was not an overriding drawback to enjoyment of the performances, however, except in the case of the opening work, Mozart's Sonata in A (K. 526), which clattered along noisily in an unrelieved fashion.

Brahm's Sonata in A, although also vigorous, stood up well under the two artists' strong, large-scale treatment.
Mr. D'Albert has a firm, attractive tone, which eschews an overly sweet vibrato.
He made the most of the long Brahmsian phrases, and by the directness and drive of his playing gave the work a handsome performance.

A Sonata For Violin And Piano, called "Bella Bella", by Robert Fleming, was given its first United States performance.
The title refers to the nickname given his wife by the composer, who is also a member of the National Film Board of Canada.
The work's two movements, one melodically sentimental, the other brightly capricious, are clever enough in a Ravel-like style, but they rehash a wornout idiom.
They might well indicate conjugal felicity, but in musical terms that smack of Hollywood.

Works by Dohnanyi, Hubay, Mr. D'Albert himself and Paganini, indicated that the violinist had some virtuoso fireworks up his sleeve as well as a reserved attitude toward a lyric phrase.
Standard items by Sarasate and Saint-Saens completed the program.

In recent years Anna Xydis has played with the New York Philharmonic and at Lewisohn Stadium, but her program last night at Town Hall was the Greek-born pianist's first New York recital since 1948.

Miss Xydis has a natural affinity for the keyboard, and in the twenty years since her debut here she has gained the authority and inner assurance that lead to audience control.
And the tone she commands is always beautiful in sound.

Since she also has considerable technical virtuosity and a feeling for music in the romantic tradition, Miss Xydis gave her listeners a good deal of pleasure.
She played with style and a touch of the grand manner, and every piece she performed was especially effective in its closing measures.

The second half of her program was devoted to Russian composers of this century.
It was in them that Miss Xydis was at her best.
The Rachmaninoff Prelude No. 12, Op. 32, for instance, gave her an opportunity to exploit one of her special facilities -- the ability to produce fine deep-sounding bass tones while contrasting them simultaneously with fine silver filagree in the treble.

The four Kabalevsky Preludes were also assured, rich in color and songful.
And the Prokofieff Seventh Sonata had the combination of romanticism and modern bravura that Prokofieff needs.

Miss Xydis' earlier selections were Mendelssohn's Variations Serieuses, in which each variation was nicely set off from the others;
Haydn's Sonata in E minor, which was unfailingly pleasant in sound, and Chopin's Sonata in B flat minor.
A memory lapse in the last somewhat marred the pianist's performance.
So, what was the deepest music on her program had the poorest showing.
Miss Xydis was best when she did not need to be too probing.

All the generals who held important commands in World War 2, did not write books.
It only seems as if they did.
And the best books by generals were not necessarily the first ones written.
One of the very best is only now published in this country, five years after its first publication in England.
It is "Defeat Into Victory", by Field Marshal Viscount Slim.

A long book heavily weighted with military technicalities, in this edition it is neither so long nor so technical as it was originally.
Field Marshal Slim has abridged it for the benefit of "those who, finding not so great an attraction in accounts of military moves and counter-moves, are more interested in men and their reactions to stress, hardship and danger".
The man whose reactions and conclusions get the most space is, of course, the Field Marshal himself.

William Joseph Slim, First Viscount Slim, former Governor General of Australia, was the principal British commander in the field during the Burma War.
He had been a corps commander during the disastrous defeat and retreat of 1942 when the ill-prepared, ill-equipped British forces "were outmaneuvered, outfought and outgeneraled".
He returned in command of an international army of Gurkhas, Indians, Africans, Chinese and British.
And in a series of bitterly fought battles in the jungles and hills and along the great rivers of Burma he waged one of the most brilliant campaigns of the war.
"The Forgotten War" his soldiers called the Burma fighting because the war in Africa and Europe enjoyed priorities in equipment and in headlines.

Parts of "Defeat Into Victory" are a tangle of Burmese place names and military units, but a little application makes everything clear enough.
On the whole this is an interesting and exceptionally well-written book.
Field Marshal Slim is striking in description, amusing in many anecdotes.
He has a pleasant sense of humor and is modest enough to admit mistakes and even "a cardinal error".
He praises many individuals generously.
He himself seems to be tough, tireless, able and intelligent, more intellectual and self-critical than most soldiers.

Remaking an army to win

"Defeat Into Victory" is a dramatic and lively military narrative.
But it is most interesting in its account of the unending problems of high command, of decisions and their reasons, of the myriad matters that demand attention in addition to battle action.

Before he could return to Burma, Field Marshal Slim had to rally the defeated remnants of a discouraged army and unite them with fresh recruits.
His remarks about training, discipline, morale, leadership and command are enlightening.
He believed in making inspiring speeches and he made a great many.
He believed in being seen near the front lines and he was there.
For general morale reasons and to encourage the efforts of his supply officers, when food was short for combat troops he cut the rations of his headquarters staff accordingly.

Other crucial matters required constant supervision: labor and all noncombatant troops, whose morale was vital, too;
administrative organization and delicate diplomatic relations with Top Brass -- British, American and Chinese;
health, hygiene, medical aid and preventive medicine;
hospitals (inadequate) and nurses (scanty);
food and military supplies;
logistics and transport;
airdrops and airstrips;
roads and river barges to be built.

Expected of a commander

Commenting on these and other matters, Field Marshal Slim makes many frank and provocative remarks:

"When in doubt as to two courses of action, a general should choose the bolder".

"The commander has failed in his duty if he has not won victory -- for that is his duty".

"It only does harm to talk to troops about new and desirable equipment which others may have but which you cannot give them.
It depresses them.
So I made no mention of air transport until we could get at least some of it".

Field Marshal Slim is more impressed by the courage of Japanese soldiers than he is by the ability of their commanders.
Of the Japanese private he says: "He fought and marched till he died.
If 500 Japanese were ordered to hold a position, we had to kill 495 before it was ours -- and then the last five killed themselves".

Brooding about future wars, the Field Marshal has this to say: "The Asian fighting man is at least equally brave (as the white), usually more careless of death, less encumbered by mental doubts, less troubled by humanitarian sentiment, and not so moved by slaughter and mutilation around him.
He is, by background and living standards, better fitted to endure hardship uncomplainingly, to demand less in the way of subsistence or comfort, and to look after himself when thrown on his own resources".

A bunch of young buckaroos from out West, who go by the name of Texas Boys Choir, loped into Town Hall last night and succeeded in corralling the hearts of a sizable audience.

Actually, the program they sang was at least two-thirds serious and high-minded, and they sang it beautifully.
Under the capable direction of the choir's founder, Geroge Bragg, the twenty-six boys made some lovely sounds in an opening group of Renaissance and Baroque madrigals and motets, excerpts from Pergolesi's "Stabat Mater" and all of the Britten "Ceremonial Of Carols".

Their singing was well-balanced, clear and, within obvious limitations, extremely pleasing.
The limitations are those one expects from untrained and unsettled voices -- an occasional shrillness of almost earsplitting intensity, an occasional waver and now and then a bleat.

But Mr. Bragg is a remarkably gifted conductor, and the results he has produced with his boys are generally superior.
Most surprising of all, he has accomplished some prodigies in training for the production of words.
The Latin, for example, was not only clear;
it was even beautiful.

Furthermore, there were solid musical virtues in the interpretation of the music.
Lines came out neatly and in good balance.
Tempos were lively.
The piano accompaniments by Istvan Szelenyi were stylish.

A boy soprano named Dixon Boyd sang a Durante solo motet and a few other passages enchantingly.
Other capable soloists included David Clifton, Joseph Schockler and Pat Thompson.

The final group included folk songs from back home, stomped out, shouted and chanted with irresistible spirit and in cowboy costume.
Boys will be boys, and Texans will be Texans.
The combination proved quite irresistible last night.

The Polish song and dance company called Mazowsze, after the region of Poland, where it has its headquarters, opened a three-week engagement at the City Center last night.
A thoroughly ingratiating company it is, and when the final curtain falls you may suddenly realize that you have been sitting with a broad grin on your face all evening.

Not that it is all funny, by any means, though some of it is definitely so, but simply that the dancers are young and handsome, high-spirited and communicative, and the program itself is as vivacious as it is varied.
There is no use at all in trying to follow it dance by dance and title by title, for it has a kind of nonstop format, and moves along in an admirable continuity that demands no pauses for identification.

The material is all basically of folk origin, gleaned from every section of Poland.
But under the direction of Mira Ziminska-Sygietynska, who with her late husband founded the organization in 1948, it has all been put into theatrical form, treated selectively, choreographed specifically for presentation to spectators, and performed altogether professionally.
Under the surface of the wide range of folk movements is apparent a sound technical ballet training, and an equally professional sense of performing.

Since the organization was created thirteen years ago, it is obvious that this is not the original company;
it is more likely the sons and daughters of that company.
The girls are charming children and the men are wonderfully vital and engaging youngsters.
The stage is constantly full of them;
indeed, there are never fewer than eight of them on stage, and that is only for the more intimate numbers.
They can be exuberant or sentimental, flirtatious or funny, but the only thing they seem unable to be is dull.

To pick out particular numbers is something of a problem, but one or two identifiable items are too conspicuously excellent to be missed.
There is, for example, a stunning Krakowiak that closes the first act;
the mazurka choreographed by Witold Zapala to music from Moniuszko's opera, "Strasny Dwor', may be the most beautiful mazurka you are likely ever to see;
there is an enchanting polonaise;
and the dances and songs from the Tatras contain a magnificent dance for the men.

Everywhere there are little touches of humor, and the leader of the on-stage band of musicians is an ebullient comedian who plays all sorts of odd instruments with winning warmth.