Life / Field notes

Singapore in Song: Unraveling Vertinsky’s ‘Banana-Lemon’ Metaphor

Alexander Vertinsky as Black Pierrot holding a banana and a lemon

If you ask a Russian-speaking person about Singapore, many will remember not Marina Bay Sands or the Merlion, but Alexander Vertinsky’s 1931 tango “Magnolia”. It is the song that calls the island “banana-lemon Singapore” — and eventually gave this website its name.

Vertinsky had never been here. His Singapore was not a real city so much as a distant tropical stage for a love story.

The woman in the song

“Magnolia” is sometimes remembered as a woman’s monologue, although Vertinsky’s male narrator is actually speaking to a woman called Yvette. He imagines her alone in Singapore during a storm, remembering his words and his touch. We never learn why she is there or what separated them. The song gives us tropical noise, bad weather and a broken heart — which is probably enough.

Alexander Vertinsky in the Black Pierrot costume with his arms extended
Vertinsky as the Black Pierrot in the 1920s. Photograph by Adolf Gornstein; public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

Vertinsky and his Pierrot

Alexander Vertinsky was a Russian artist, actor and singer with a style somewhere between romance, chanson and theatre. His best-known stage character was the sad Pierrot. After the Revolution, Vertinsky left Russia and spent more than two decades abroad. He wrote “Magnolia” while touring Bessarabia in 1931 — very far from Singapore.

Alexander Vertinsky in Pierrot costume with his barber Vanya, 1916 or 1917
Vertinsky with Vanya, his barber, 1916–1917. Public domain.
Alexander Vertinsky as Pierrot, photographed in 1916 or 1917
Vertinsky as Pierrot, 1916–1917. Public domain.

The song on record

“Magnolia” was first recorded for Columbia in 1932. Another recording followed in Warsaw in 1933, and the Columbia version was later reissued in the United States. The label below is from a 1933 disc for Polish listeners — hence Tango magnolia and Aleksander Wertyński rather than the Russian spelling. It is a small trace of the song’s remarkable journey: written by a Russian émigré in Bessarabia, pressed in Europe and set in a Singapore that he had never seen.

Columbia label for Alexander Vertinsky’s Tango Magnolia, 1933
A Columbia record of “Tango Magnolia”, 1933. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

A royal request

Vertinsky tells a wonderful story about “Magnolia” in his memoirs. At around three one morning, a young blond Englishman arrived at the Paris restaurant Kazbek with two friends. He wore a dinner jacket over a grey sweater, ordered champagne and asked the musicians for a Russian song whose title he had forgotten. He could only hum the melody. Vertinsky immediately recognised his own tango.

He sang “Magnolia”, and the guest asked for encores. The Englishman explained that a Russian lady in London had given him records by an artist whose surname he then pronounced beyond recognition. Vertinsky silently handed him his card: Alexandre Vertinsky. Astonished, the stranger invited him to dinner the following evening. Only when Vertinsky arrived did the horrified maître d’ tell him who was waiting at the table: the Prince of Wales, the future Edward VIII.

Read the episode from Vertinsky’s memoirs in Russian.

What might Yvette have seen?

Vertinsky gives Yvette no address, but a real Singapore window in the early 1930s might have looked towards the river. The port was crowded with bumboats, warehouses and cargo. Robertson Quay was not yet a restaurant promenade: it was a working part of the river lined with godowns. Fewer parrots and magnolias; more timber, roofs and boats.

Bumboats crowd the Singapore River and port around 1900
The Singapore River and port around 1900. G. R. Lambert & Co.; Leiden University Library, KITLV. Public domain.
Robertson Quay and the Singapore River in 2005
Robertson Quay in 2005, after the warehouses and working boats had given way to apartments and a promenade. Photograph by Sengkang; Wikimedia Commons.

Why “banana-lemon”?

I know two theories.

The exotic theory. Vertinsky may simply have wanted Singapore to sound like a distant exotic island. The fruity phrase creates a vivid image and may have been chosen because it sounded beautiful. Singapore was a major port through which fruit from Southeast Asia passed, including bananas and lemons. Magnolias, despite the title, were not especially common here.

The conspiracy theory. Another theory is that Vertinsky was using more complicated metaphors. By the 1930s, bananas and lemons were no longer impossibly exotic. He may have heard sailors’ stories while travelling in Bessarabia. Singapore was a British colony: “bananas” could refer to Asians influenced by Western culture, while “lemons” might point to “limeys”, the American nickname for British sailors, linked to the citrus they carried against scurvy. In that reading, Vertinsky was describing the people on Singapore’s waterfront.

I still find the first, more ordinary version more convincing. Vertinsky needed a faraway place made of sound, colour and longing. His Singapore did not have to be accurate. It just had to be memorable.

And that is how this website became Banana-Lemon Singapore.

Airy editorial illustration of Alexander Vertinsky as Pierrot imagining a storm over the Singapore River, with a banana and lemon on his desk
Illustration: the Singapore Vertinsky imagined, with a storm over the river and a banana and lemon on the table.
Thanks for reading.Denya
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