Blog Post

The Screen Credits That Weren’t

Albert Sendrey

Publication: Pro Musica Sana 67 (2012)

Publisher: Miklós Rózsa Society

Copyright © 2012. Text reproduced by kind permission of the Miklós Rózsa Society

Would you believe, no, better, is it conceivable that one of the greatest screen composers' career was built not only on his genuine phenomenal talent, but when asked by the head of a studio what films he had scored, he invented two picture titles which not only he had not composed, but which two films had never been made. This he had to do, for the plain truth was that he had never written a film score, nor, according to his own admission, had not the foggiest idea how to write for films.


I was living in London at the time, in a roomy flat at 20 Gunter Grove, near the Embankment in Chelsea. I was a lowly music student at London's Trinity College of Music, making a fair living, illegally, since I had no Labour Permit, making piano arrangements for Lawrence Wright, better known as Horatio Nicholls, Jimmy Campbell, Will Gross, and other Denmark Street songwriters. The tab was 5 pds sterling per, and with the dollar at 5 to the pound, this was big money!“ The Savoy Hotel bandleader, a marvellous chap named Carroll Gibbons, gave me my first few Society style dance orchestrations to do, which he also broadcast over Radio Luxembourg, and the BBC. I recall I made 10 pds each for those, so I was swimming in the filthy lucre.


At this identical moment the screen composer (see first paragraph) was living in a small Paris apartment on the ground floor, street level, across the street from a whorehouse, eking out a modest living writing song choruses and fanfares for a chap named Monsieur Solar, at about 50 francs each. What Solar did with them, before our composer friend got world famous, no one knows, nor really cares. But it was a miserable existence for a composer who knew his real worth, a young genius who had already written, and had published and performed a set of Symphonic Variations, with Breitkopf & Haertel in Leipzig doing the former, and Bruno Walter doing, the second! Not bad for a 27 year old! (Except that 50 frs was only $ 2.00 U.S., 8 shillings UK).


The question whether the young man ever crossed the street and entered the Maison de Joie will torture many a reader of this tale, but we have it on impeccable authority, namely his own, that he never did. However, when not knocking out leadsheets for Monsieur Solar, he sat in his window and watched a never-ending stream of pimps bringing customers to the bordello, but always with the amusing innocence that all good pimps and purveyors must exhibit: they pretended not to have been there before, steering their quarry past the address, returning, searching, ad libbing that they really were not sure where that place was, when our composer had seen them daily, half a dozen times, and in each case piloting their customer to the door, and after another unsure glance at the house-number, then a reassuring nod, entering. Minutes later the pimp would leave, having pocketed his commission, often counting it a few meters down the street, to make sure the Maison had not shortchanged him.


But what has all this "histoire gaie" to do with the screen credits that weren't? We are coming to that.


Having gotten tired of this unworthy musical work, and also of the parade of pimps to and fro in front of his window, the young composer, not as yet a screen composer, but who would rank with Steiner, Newman, Korngold, yes, even Tiomkin, asked an older friend, a former symphony and opera conductor living in Paris, whether he would give him a letter to his young son, a student in London Trinity College.Yes, he wanted to try his luck across the Channel, where a famous Hungarian film mogul had created a huge complex of stages in Denham, outside of London.


The conductor wrote out the son's address: 20 Gunter Grove, Chelsea, told him it was near the river, and that no doubt aforementioned son would let the composer stay with him until he got settled, got a job writing films, preferably for the mogul, and started making better money than Monsieur Solar's primitive fanfares and songs, 8 shillings a piece!


And so, quick dissolve to Chelsea, where our screen composer rings the doorbell at 20 Gunter Grove. The chap opening the front door was delighted to have this already distinguished houseguest, who had been published by Breitkopf, and performed by Walter. What an honor, what a privilege. And the 2 story flat was roomy, though cold: it had only a fireplace in the huge living room, and a gas fire upstairs in the bedroom. The other bedroom had goornisht, which is French for nothing. Only a bed, a wardrobe, a chair. And so this became the abode for our yet unnamed world-famous screen composer. Who, as we have pointed out, had yet to write his first score.


"Do you know anybody in the music department at Denham?" may have been the question directed at me (for l was the young chap renting 20 Gunter Grove, and now sub-letting the cold, dank second bedroom to my new friend) Well, I had met the music head of the studio, a young Scot from Stirling, a pupil of Malcolm Sargent, who, when offered the job as Music Director, had refused, but recommended his 21-year-old student, Muir Mathieson. And my fame as an American "jazz arranger" having been proclaimed by Carroll Gibbons had so impressed young Muir that he gave me, also illegally of course, all the dance music to do which the studio needed.


I promised my new houseguest I would take him to Denhan, by tube and bus, and introduce him to the young Scot. First stop, since it was lunch time, was a trip across the road to a pub, the Lame Bull, where Muir astounded us by downing, first, two jiggers of his native brew from Glasgow, then a couple of bitters, followed by another Scotch. Neither my houseguest nor I drank; we thought we would eat but not drink our lunch. Not Muir! In the States he would barely have been old enough to be served at a bar, but the British aren't that particular. Muir got sloshed while we ordered some steak and kidney pies.


Result: he loooved my new friend and houseguest, and back in his office he had him give a recital for his secretary, Miss Doris Silver, and his assistant, a Mr. Freddie Lewis. He then sobered up a wee bit, and got a French director, who was planning a picture on the lot, on the phone.


"Jacques", he intoned, "Muir Mathieson heah. You know, the music chap. I have a genius in my office, a Hungarian composer, who would be splendid for your film. Would you come by and hear him play his stuff?" Let's make this short. "Jacques" came, heard, and was conquered. The film he was shooting was a pseudo-Russian epic starring Marlene Dietrich anal Robert Donat, entitled. KNIGHT WITHOUT ARMOUR, but he thought our young friend should see the studio head first.


There was only one rub: the mogul, being a Hungarian, and a sycophant where his own brothers were concerned, (all by the way talented, not necessarily like Mayer's Gantse Mishpocha, which originally gave MGM its lettering,) was rumored to "hate" fellow Hungarians, of which our young friend was one. But a meeting was arranged, forthwith.


So now we are in the Hungarian mogul's office, where the young composer was politely ushered into a lovely leather armchair. But in English! No Hungarian spoken here, even between "landsmen"! In his heavily accented English, he asked the composer what films he had done. And in equally accented English he was told the Big Lie, the Fabrication, the unheard of made-up screen credit of two documentaries, neither of which had ever seen the light of day, not to say the emulsion of 35 mm film. Here are the two beauties: SHEPHERD'S LIFE and LAKE BALATON. Made in Budapest, by a small independent. What independent? That the mogul, being the most illustrious Hungarian in the film industry, swallowed this, is hard to believe, for surely he must have known that these two titles had never come from the Beautiful Blue Danube, where he and his brothers had migrated from. But apparently he never checked.


And so history was made, and the most fabulous career was begun on what so many of us in the film business (for it is a business) have at times been guilty of, lying a little bit about our accomplishments until those accomplishments, in truth speak for themselves, and soon give us a recognizable name which then becomes a saleable commodity, and we end up in the Motion Picture Almanac with two or more inches of emmes honest- to-God screen credits, where your name appears on a big screen and your barber, who up to then has always called you "Next!" now knows your name as he has seen it up there at the neighbourhood movie house, or more recently in replays on television.


And Miklós Rózsa’s barber has not called him
"next!" for at least 4 decades. And so, happily, ends this story of the only little white lie that most accomplished screen composer has ever committed in his fruitful life.


Afterword


Albert Sendrey’s recollection was provided by the musicologist William Rosar, editor and publisher of the Journal of Film Music, who interviewed Sendrey before his death.


Albert Sendrey (1911–2003) was a Chicago-born composer-arranger-orchestrator, educated in Leipzig and London, who toiled anonymously in the Hollywood dream factory from the 1940s to the 1970s. He worked, often uncredited, on such films as THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE, THE GREAT CARUSO , AN A MERICAN IN PARIS, GUYS AND DOLLS, and FINIAN’S RAINBOW, and later in Las Vegas, notably as Tony Martin’s arranger and accompanist. He is said to have composed the music for Fred Astaire’s famous “ceiling dance” in ROYAL WEDDING. Trained in Leipzig, Sendrey also composed original music, including three symphonies and other works. (I find no record of public performances, and Sendrey’s name does not appear in Grove or Baker’s.) His father, Alfred Sendrey (or Aladár Szendrei, 1884–1976), was known as an opera conductor in Europe and America and was director of the Leipzig Symphony when Rózsa lived in that city. He migrated to Paris (1933), New York (1941), and Los Angeles (1945). He too was a composer and was particularly noted for writing several books on the history of Jewish music.
Bibliography of Jewish Music (1951), David’s Harp: The Story of Music in Biblical Times (1964), Music in Ancient Israel (1969), and Music in the Social and Religious Life of Antiquity (1974).


It would be pedantic to footnote Mr. Sendrey’s fascinating piece. The variances from Miklós Rózsa’s familiar account hardly need to be pointed out to readers of this journal. They illustrate the inescapable difficulty of establishing a definitive account of events that took place more than half a century ago. In Rózsa’s telling Jacques Feyder (who was Belgian, not French) reencountered Rózsa in London in the summer of 1936. This was during the run of the ballet Hungaria. Rózsa had been in London since the previous autumn. Rózsa never described his initial meeting with Alexander Korda. In his version, the whole thing was set up by Feyder, with reference to Rózsa’s supposed acquaintance with Vincent Korda. At this remove it is impossible to determine the exact truth, let alone the sequence of events. Nevertheless, a few details warrant comment for the unsuspecting reader.


Goornisht is Yiddish for “it’s hopeless; nothing helps.” Gantse mishpocha signifies “the whole family.”
Bruno Walter did take up the
Theme, Variations, and Finale, but he did not give the second performance. That was Charles Munch (Budapest, 1934). Walter conducted it in Amsterdam later the same year.

by Pascal Dupont 10 May, 2024
Charles Allan Gerhardt English version adapted by Doug Raynes - FRENCH VERSION AND COLLECTION had a reputation as a great conductor, record producer and musical arranger. His major work at RCA on the Classic Film Scores series earned him recognition from film music devotees of Hollywood’s Golden Age, as well as other renowned conductors of his day. Born on February 6, 1927 in Detroit, Michigan, Charles Gerhardt developed a passion for music and percussion instruments from an early age. At the age of five, he took piano lessons, and by the age of nine, had established a solid reputation as an orchestrator and composer. He spent his early school years in Little Rock, Arkansas, then after 10 years, having completed his schooling, moved with his family to Illinois for his military duties, he served in the U.S. Navy during World War II as a chaplain's aide in the Aleutian Islands, then became an active member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars. He went on to study at the University of Illinois, at the College of William and Mary, and later at the University of Southern California. Throughout his time at school Gerhardt was attracted not only to music, but also to the sciences. Passionate about the art of recording, he joined Westminster Records for five years, until the company ceased operations, and then joined Bell Sound. One day, he received a phone call from George Marek to meet with the heads of Reader's Digest, to discuss producing recordings for their mail-order record business; a contact that was to secure his musical future and a rich career spanning more than 30 years. Gerhardt's first job for Reader's Digest was to produce a record; “A Festival of Light Classical Music”; a 12 LP box set that he produced in full. One of Gerhardt's finest projects was the production of another 12 LP box set, “Les Trésores de la Grande Musique (Treasury of Great Music)”, featuring the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by some of the leading figures of the day: Charles Munch to Bizet and Tchaikovsky, Rudolf Kempe to Strauss and Respighi, Josef Krips to Mozart and Haydn, Antal Dorati to Strauss and Berlioz, Brahms 4th Symphony by Fritz Reiner and Sibelius’ 2nd Symphony by Sir John Barbirolli. In the 1950s he conducted works by Vladimir Horowitz, Wanda Landowska, Kirsten Flagstad and William Kapeli. In the early 1960s, Gerhardt lived in England, where he made most of his recordings, but kept a foothold in the United States, mainly in New York. Often, when he went to the United States after a period of recording sessions, he would stop off in Baltimore and spend some time listening to cassettes of his new recordings. Gerhardt loved percussion instruments, especially tam-tams. One of his favorite recordings was the Columbia mono disc of Scriabin's Poem of Ecstasy, with Dimitri Mitropoulos and the New York Philharmonic. He had great admiration and respect for the many conductors he worked with, starting with Arturo Toscanini, with whom he worked for several years before the Maestro's death. It was Toscanini who suggested that Gerhardt become a conductor, which he did! His career as an orchestra director began when he had to replace a conductor who failed to show up for rehearsals. It was a position he would later occupy for various recording sessions and occasional concerts. His classical recordings include works by Richard Strauss, Tchaikovsky, Wagner, Ravel, Debussy, Walton and Howard Hanson. Hired by RCA Records, he transferred 78 rpm recordings of Enrico Caruso and other artists to 33 rpm. He took part in recordings by soprano singer Kirsten Flagstad and pianist Vladimir Horowitz. He worked with renowned conductors such as Fritz Reiner, Leopold Stokowski and Charles Munch, from whom he learned the tricks of the trade. Still at RCA, he assisted Arturo Toscanini, with whom he perfected his conducting skills. Then, in 1960, he produced recordings for RCA and Reader’s Digest in London, and joined forces with sound engineer Kenneth Wilkinson of Decca Records (RCA's European subsidiary), The two men got on very well and shared a passion for recording and sound quality, making an incredible number of recordings over a 30-year period. Also in 1960, RCA and Reader's Digest entrusted him with the production of a 12-disc LP box set entitled “ Lumière du Classique (A Festival of Light Classical Music) ”, sold exclusively by mail order. With a budget of $250,000, Gerhardt assumed total control of the project: repertoire, choice of orchestras and production. He recorded in London, Vienna and Paris, and hired such top names as Sir Adrian Boult, Massimo Freccia, Sir Alexander Gibson and René Leibowitz. The success of this project, in terms of both musical quality and sound, earned him recognition from his employers. Other projects of similar scope followed… A boxed set of Beethoven's symphonic works with René Leibowitz and The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. A boxed set of Rachmaninoff's works for piano and orchestra with Earl Wild, Jascha Horenstein and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, the above mentioned 12 LP disc set “Trésor de la Grande Musique (Treasury of Great Music)” with the Royal Philharmonic conducted by some of the greatest directors of the time: Fritz Reiner, Charles Munch, Rudolf Kempe, Sir John Barbirolli, Sir Malcolm Sargent, Antal Dorati and Jascha Horenstein, with whom Gerhardt had sympathized. In January 1964 in London, Gerhardt joined forces with Sidney Sax, instrumentalist and conductor, to form a freelance orchestra. This successful group went on to join the National Philharmonic Orchestra of London, an impressive line-up that would later become Jerry Goldsmith's orchestra of choice. With Peter Munves, head of RCA's classical division, he conceived the idea of recording an album devoted exclusively to the film music of Erich Wolfgang Korngold, one of his favorite composers. Enthusiastic about the project, Munves gave Gerhardt carte blanche, and was offered a helping hand by George Korngold, producer and son of the famous Viennese composer, who owned all the copies of his father's scores. The Adventure Began : The Sea Hawk: Classic Film Scores of Erich Wolfgang Korngold. For this first disc, Gerhardt selected 10 scores by Korngold, which he recorded in the Kingsway Hall Studio in London, renowned for its excellent acoustics. The disc thus benefits from optimal recording conditions, favoring at the same time the performances of the National Philharmonic (and its leader, Sidney Sax), a formidable orchestra made up of London's finest musicians and freelance soloists. Each album was recorded in the same studio, with Kenneth Wilkinson as sound engineer and George Korngold as consultant/producer. As soon as it was released, the album's success received strong acclaim in classical music circles and received a feature in Billboard No. 37, a first in this category in December 1972. It took no less than a year to sell the first 10,000 copies in all the specialist record suppliers and the album went on to sell over 38,000 copies, making it the fifth best-selling album in the “classical” category in 1973. On the strength of this success, Peter Munves and RCA entrusted Charles Gerhardt with the production of further discs devoted to other world-renowned composers of Hollywood music. The program includes several albums dedicated to Max Steiner and Erich Wolfgang Korngold plus one each to Miklos Rozsa, Franz Waxman, Dimitri Tiomkin and Bernard Herrmann, followed by 3 volumes associated with specific film stars such as Bette Davis, Errol Flynn and Humphrey Bogart. Then, a disc devoted to Alfred Newman, a composer who was a pillar of the famous Hollywood sound, who Gerhardt admired and had met: “Newman was a charming man, full of good humor. He was friendly, fun and always had a joke. With his eternal black cigar in hand, he was a composer by trade, down-to-earth, discussed little about himself but was a first-rate advisor in my life. “ Gerhardt would consult certain composers in advance about how to recreate suites from their works, or when this wasn't possible, he would rearrange the suites himself and submit them to the composers for approval. "Some critics complained that my suites were too short, but my aim in the case of each album was to present a well-split 'portrait' of the composer, highlighting his many creative facets". Although Korngold, Newman and Steiner were no longer around to lend their support, Gerhardt was lucky enough to still work with Herrmann, Rózsa and Tiomkin as consultants who turned up at the recording studio to lend a hand. Gerhardt also had the idea of creating albums focusing on a single film star. Three specific volumes were devoted to music from the films of Humphrey Bogart, Errol Flynn and Bette Davis. Although these albums suffer from too great a diversity of genres, they still offer the chance to hear and discover rare and previously unpublished compositions. The best conceived album was arguably the one devoted to Bette Davis. Conscious of the important role played by music in her films, the legendary actress took part in the conception of the album, knowing that it favored scores by Max Steiner designed for Warner Bros. The Collection Begins ! Gerhardt's passion for certain composers knows no bounds, but he soon envisages a disc devoted to Miklos Rozsa, including suites for “Spellbound” and “The Red House”, one of his favorite scores, which he will exhume to create one of the longest suites in the series. At the same time, he received various fan wish lists and films to watch, such as “The Four Feathers”, which he had never seen and which gave him the opportunity to discover a splendid score by Miklos Rozsa that he had never heard before. He was disappointed, however, not to be able to conceive a longer “Spellbound” sequel for rights reasons. Despite RCA's full approval, Gerhardt realized that it was not easy to record film music in its original form, as few were ever edited, played and made available for rental. For The Sea Hawks album, things were simpler, as Georges Korngold had copies of his father's scores, and Warner Bros had also archived material in good condition. From the outset, Gerhardt encountered other major problems in the search for and discovery of scores hidden away in other studios, often with the unpleasant surprise of discovering missing or incomplete conductors, or others heavily modified by orchestrators during recording sessions, or the surprise of discovering, in certain cases, instrumentation information noted in shorthand on the edges of the conductor score. For the disc dedicated to Max Steiner, for example, the conductor score for “King Kong” had disappeared from the RKO archives, having been shipped in 1950 to poorly maintained warehouses in Los Angeles where it had become totally degraded and illegible. With the help of Georges Korngold, Gerhardt was able to reconstruct a substantial suite from the piano models left by Steiner at the time. This experience was repeated when the conductor score for Dimitri Tiomkin's “The Thing” was discovered in the same warehouse, in an advanced state of disintegration. Fortunately for Gerhardt, Tiomkin, who was still alive, had been able to provide precise piano maquettes with orchestration information in shorthand, revealing a complex and highly innovative style of writing. Tiomkin always composed at the piano, inscribing very specific information and signs on the edges of the scores in pencil, an ingenious system of his own invention that was difficult to decipher. “Revisiting the score of ‘The Thing from Another World’ was a complex task, involving experimental passages and an unorthodox orchestra. You can understand that I had a huge job on my hands. When I approached the recording sessions, it was not without some trepidation. However, the composer present made no criticism or comment on my work, and was delighted. He was delighted.” For “Gone With The Wind”, Steiner was against the idea of remaking a complete soundtrack, as he felt that too many passages were repeated. It was an opportunity for him to revisit his own score, integrating his favorite melodies. This synthesis gave him the opportunity to revitalize his music by eliminating the least interesting parts of the score. Conceived as long suites or isolated themes, the discs reflect the essence of the composers' work. The “Classic Film Scores” series by Franz Waxman, Bernard Herrmann and Miklos Rozsa etc will become a big hit with collectors. For Gerhardt, this will be an opportunity to unearth forgotten or rare scores such as Herrmann's “The White Witch” and “On a Dangerous Ground”, Hugo Friedhofer's “The Sun Also Rises” and early recordings for Waxman's “Prince Valliant” and Rozsa's “The Red House”, all with new, impeccable acoustics. For “Elisabeth and Essex”, Erich Korngold had already prepared a suite in the form of an Overture, which was given its world premiere in a theater. The suite for “The Adventures of Robin Hood” also pre-existed. Franz Waxman created his own suite for “A Place in the Sun”, which was also performed in concert. Dimitri Tiomkin, Miklos Rozsa and Bernard Herrmann acted as consultants and contributed arrangements to their scores. For the continuation of “White Witch Doctor”, Bernard Herrman added percussion to link the different musical tableaux. He did the same for the different parts of “Citizen Kane”. Miklos Rozsa saw an opportunity to add a male choir to the suite from “The Jungle Book”, based on an idea by Charles Gerhardt. For the record dedicated to Errol Flynn, Gerhardt re-orchestrated the theme “The Lights of Paris” from Hugo Friedhofer's “The Sun also Rises”, as the original was no longer available. “I wanted to go back to that time and systematically explore the very substance of the great film scores of the late 30s and 40s, sending them back directly to their images as dramatic entities. The desire to rediscover tunes we know and to take into account the contexts in which they were originally used. I decided to recreate these scores with their original orchestrations, and this could only be done by returning to the ultimate sources, as the composers had originally conceived them.” Keen to open up the collection to other genres, such as science fiction, Gerhardt dedicated two further albums to the series in 1992. The first featured contemporary sequels to “Star Wars” and “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”, promoting the work of John Williams, a leading composer of new film music. Then another called “The Spectacular World of Classic Film Scores”, presenting a disappointing compilation of scores that had already been recorded, except for the creation of a sequel to Dimitri Tiomkin's “The Thing From Another World” and Daniele Amfitheatrof's rarely heard theme “Dance of the Seven Voiles” from Salome. In 1978, the collection was published in Spain by RCA Cinema Treasures. In the USA and Europe, the Classic Film Scores LP series was reissued in the early 80s with a black art deco cover and colored star index. All Volumes in the First Series Were Reissued : By the end of the '80s, the series was running out of steam, and Charles Gerhardt planned to relaunch his collection with albums dedicated to famous American actresses, a new volume for Max Steiner and the Western, a volume reconstructing the score of Waxman's “The Bride of Frankenstein”, followed by volumes devoted to Alex North, Hugo Friedhofer, Victor Young and Elmer Bernstein... But RCA would not support Gerhardt in these projects, preferring to release the collection on CD for the first time. In early 1990, RCA asked Gerhardt to supervise and co-produce the collection, which he saw as an opportunity to revisit some of the volumes, inserting tracks that had not appeared on the LPs or extending certain suites. The volume devoted to Franz Waxman, “Sunset Boulevard”, was the first to be released. The CD did not benefit from any particular promotion, but sold very well, as did the other CDs that followed... A collection marked by a new design in silver pantone. The CDs series was reissued in 2010, still under the RCA Red Seal label, but distributed by Sony Music Entertainment. RCA Victor's Classic Films Scores series represents a unique collection in the history of film music recordings. 14 recordings of rare quality, produced by Georges Korngold and Charles Gerhardt to become one of the revelations of the reissue phenomenon. Other Concepts... Later, Gerhardt spent most of his time in London, continuing to make recordings. After retiring from RCA in 1986, he returned to independent work for Readers Digest and other record labels, a position he held in production and musical supervision until 1997. Since 1991 he had lived in Redding, California. In later years, he did not appear professionally, refusing all public invitations because of his desire to remain discreet. In his entourage he was close to three cousins, Lenore L Engel and Elizabeth Anne Schuetze, both living in San Antonio, and cousin Steven W Gerhardt of St. Pete Beach, Florida. In late November 1998 Charles Gerhardt was diagnosed with brain cancer and died of complications following surgery on February 22, 1999. He was 72 years old. Thus ends this tribute to Charles Gerhardt and the most famous collection of film music records: The Classic Film Scores series.
by Doug Raynes 24 Jan, 2024
Following on from Tadlow’s epic recording of El Cid, the same team – Nic Raine conducting and James Fitzpatrick producing – have turned their attention to a completely different type of epic film for the definitive recording of Ernest Gold’s Academy Award winning score for Otto Preminger’s Exodus (1960). The score is something of a revelation because aside from the main theme, the music has received little attention through recordings. Additionally the sound quality of the original soundtrack LP was disappointing and much music was deleted or cut from the film.
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