TempoSenzaTempo

A Tuba Player from Lowville, New York

2012-02-10T17:07:00.000-05:00

One of life's great pleasures is relaxing next to a fire in a comfortable chair and reading ... tuba music. The gentleman in this photograph seems to have taken a break from some serious practice on his tuba. With his instrument turned upside down for a good arm rest, he has a wire stand to hold his music, even though his tuba has a music lyre, and around his feet are strewn even more tuba parts. Just beside him on an ornately carved table, lies his bowler hat and a framed photo, perhaps of his sweetheart.

The instrument is a distinctive Courtois silver plated E-flat tuba that can be identified by its arrangement of three valves for the right hand and a single diagonal valve for the left hand. It is made by Antoine Courtois, the famous French musical instrument company established in 1789 and still manufacturing brass instruments today.

The photographer is George W. Carter of Lowville, New York. The large cabinet card has gold edges to date it around 1885 but there is no other identification. The furnishings suggest a parlor in a home but I think the mantle, window, and curtain are painted backdrops in Mr. Carter's studio. The additional appointments create a very clever illusion. Carter was described in a Lowville newspaper of 1871 as a landscape photographer, and the painting on the back wall could even be his artwork. He was born in 1848 and at age 19 was listed in the 1870 census as working in a photo gallery. He and his wife, Ida E. Carter continued to live in Lowville running a photography studio until sometime after 1920.

Lowville is in Lewis County in upstate New York, situated in the Black River valley of the Adirondack Mountains, just east of Lake Ontario. This past Memorial Day, I featured a 1908 postcard of the Lowville Band, and I also have another photograph contemporary with Mr. Carter's, of a cornet player named Frank Thompson, who was the leader of the band from 1883 to 1904. His biography initially started my research on the history of this wonderful small town and I plan to feature his tragic story in an upcoming post. Two online archives of newspapers from Lewis County at Northern New York Newspapers and for other parts of New York at Fultonhistory.com have been veritable mother lodes of historic trivia allowing me to find more clues than would be possible with other photographs.

One detail that caught my attention was the camera's focus on the gentleman's left hand. I magnified it and it appears he has a signet ring. The initial looks to be the letter D in a calligraphy type set into a dark rectangle.

On October 12, 1882 the Lowville Times carried a short report on a two new musicians to join the band. A solo B-flat cornet player from Utica and Hallie Durez from Ogdensburg, NY who would play the tuba horn.

{Click the image to read the tragic end of a squirrel hunter.}

Hallie was actually Haley Duruz, born in New York in 1861. His father was Leon Duruz who was a wagon and carriage maker. Leon was Swiss but emigrated to New York as a boy and during the Civil War served in an Union Artillery Regiment from New York as a bugler. In 1883 the Lowville Band performed a concert and along with some lavish praise the members were listed in the Lowville Democrat. Leon is playing baritone alongside his son.

The Boonville Herald speaks of the serenade given by our village band in that place last week Tuesday evening, and also of its music at the Gouverneur fair, as follows:

"The Lowville band is a musical organization composed of eighteen young men of eminent musical talent and of a high order of discipline. They are favorites of their village neighbors and are assisted in a very liberal way in their excursions and enterprises. They are tastily uniformed and equipped with instruments of the finest quality for tone and finish.
The excursion yesterday was for their benefit, and was engineered by the indefatigable and ubiquitous George Sherwood, without whom Lowvllle would soon become extinct or of little influence among her sister villages. The personnel of the band organization is as follows:
C. L. Brown, drum major; Prof. R. McCrossen, leader and solo Bb cornet; W. J. Smith, 1st Bb cornet; Frank R. Smith, 2d Bb cornet; C. K. Doig, Eb clarinet; Don Warren, 1st Bb clarinet; Garey Warren, 2d Bb clarinet; E. T. Davies solo alto; Amos Bliss, 1st alto; A. E. Davis, 2d alto; Will Taylor, trombone; Frank Stoddard, 1st tenor; Frank Cook, 2d tenor; Leon Duruz, baritone; Hally Duruz, tuba; George Hutchins, 2d tuba; Hiram Cook, tenor drum, and Geo. Goutremout, bass drum."

On December 26, 1883, the Lowville Democrat carried a report that The Lowville Band had recently raised $160 for a new tuba. Could the shiny Courtois be that instrument?

{Click the image to read about the risk of winter temperatures at -28º F.}

Evidently Hally Duruz was an accomplished musician as in January 1884 he was invited to join the Kingsford Band in Oswego, NY for a trial engagement. This was a larger band that offered a yearly salary.

{Click the image to read about a failed suicide and more dangerous drunks.}

In May 1885, another brief report noted that D.C. Barry, an experienced tuba player from Chester, Connecticut had arrived to play a season with the Lowville Silver Band. Did Haley move to Oswego and beyond? There were dozens of small bands throughout upstate New York. Many villages like Lowville were very proud of their musical culture and quite competitive. They often exchanged band concerts, sending their "boys" to play in neighboring towns. And civic sponsors regularly brought in professional musicians to augment and improve their band's musicianship.

Haley Duruz shows up back in Lowville in the 1905 New York Census, living with his parents and without a wife. Was he still playing tuba? That wasn't recorded.

Of course the design on the ring could be a different letter or even a picture of a duck. And there is nothing at all to connect it to Hallie aka Hally, Haley Duruz. The photo is not a typical pose for a musician from this era and I like it because it shows a young man proud of his musical talent and fond of a good joke. I'll bet he played a solid bass line on every march.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where the theme this weekend is a gentleman
perusing a book nearly as heavy as a tuba.

Follow the link for more stories about vintage photographs and books.

Four Dogs

2012-02-03T23:04:00.000-05:00

“Not Carnegie, Vanderbilt, and Astor together
could have raised money enough
to buy a quarter share in my little dog.”

― Ernest Thompson Seton

Every dog has its day, and every dog should have its story told, or at least be commemorated in a photograph, so here are four vintage photos of dogs.

The name of this first one is unknown, though some might recognize its breeding.
It is a West Highlands Terrier which stands attentive to the words of its master, Romer Williams, son of Charles Reynolds Williams, the subject of a long essay I wrote in December. The place is Wales and the time around 1902-3. Romer was a London solicitor like his father, and also specialized in estate law. The dog is getting a lecture on the proper way to retrieve stuffed cats.

Romer's dog is a distant ancestor to this next dog whose name I do know. Muffin and my son, Sam Brubaker scamper along a wet Savannah walkway, some twenty years ago. Muffin belonged to my father, who took this photo along with millions of others and printed it in a darkroom himself.

And of course, every boy should have a dog to share their stories. This dog, whose name is unknown, sits with my great uncle, Frank E. Shaw, who was born in 1906. The place is on a farm on the western shore of Maryland, and if Frank is about age 9, that's sometime around 1914-16.

This last photo is another uncle, Clifton Brubaker, taken sometime around 1920-21 near Breckenridge, Missouri. His mother, Ruby Mae Pratt Brubaker stands at the back. Uncle Clifton joined the navy and served in WWII on various ships including the battleship Missouri. He recently celebrated his 95th birthday, so perhaps we might still learn the dog's name.

UPDATE: I'm informed by reliable sources that the dog's name was Brownie. After the dog died, Clifton was given mittens made out of Brownie's fur. He still has them too! Clifton's left hand is wrapped because of an injury in a farm gate caused by his older brother Lawrence. The camera was likely held by the oldest sister Cecile. My father has the camera and the negative of this photograph.

“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent.
To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden,
where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace.”

― Milan Kundera

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where the photo theme this weekend was a man and his dog.
Click the link to find more vintage photos and shaggy dog stories.

A Theater Orchestra

2012-01-28T07:50:00.002-05:00

We live in a magical age. At 3:00 in the morning, we can read the morning news from a virtual newspaper somewhere across the ocean. We can can slip a small disc into a box and from our easy chair watch a movie displayed in more vivid colors than we can count. Taking our coffee with us, we can get into the car and listen to music, broadcast from across the continent on satellite radio, all while traveling at 70 mph in a sound environment that is equal to being in the best seat of a grand concert hall.

One hundred years ago, people lived in a magical age too, but their entertainment was not a solitary experience. You had to go downtown to hear live music.

In 1912 it would be a rare city in America that did not have at least one theater. You could see a play, a melodrama or a comedy with musical interludes. You might take in a variety show, a musical or even operetta. In some theaters there was a new novelty called a motion picture. The images projected were in sepia tones, and the actors had no voice, but there was great music to carry the story along. It was played by live musicians in an orchestra much like the one shown above.

The German Orchester has a sign that says Wien ~ Berlin 1916, but the advertisements on the backdrops show that they are on a stage somewhere in America. This vintage photograph has no markings to show exactly where or when these musicians are from, but they are typical of a small theater orchestra of the early 20th century. The leader stands in front with his violin, surrounded by an ensemble of cello and bass for strings; flute and clarinet for woodwinds, cornet and trombone for brass; and piano and accordion for keyboard accompaniment. Oddly there is no percussionist.

To judge by the size of the group, their stage was probably quite modest. Larger theaters could boast of bands and orchestras that rivaled the numbers in an opera or symphony orchestra.

The Empress Theater of Kansas City, Missouri, pictured here on a 1912 postcard, was thought to be one of the most modern vaudeville theaters in Amerca when it opened in 1910. It had 1,902 seats and ran 3 shows daily.

Miss Bessie Pyatt of Rosedale, KS had a friend Mabel who wrote:

Dear Bess,

I would like to go Thurs. but as I have quarreled with my friend I don't see how I can. Are you still working? Do you remember this place here? Ans.

Mabel

Regrettably, this theater is all memories now, as few of these extravagant art houses have survived into the 21st century. A terrific resource for the history of old theaters is Cinematreasures.org.

Some theaters were part of other extravagant civic buildings like the Palace Theater in Chicago, IL which was on the ground floor of the City Hall Square building. It was built in 1912 but taken down in 1965 for the Richard J. Daley Center. Next to it was the Geo. M. Cohan's Grand Opera House.

The postcard is a colorized photo, but the pedestrians along the sidewalks are all crudely drawn figures.

Mr. Hans Hansen of Ludington, Michigan got this card from his daughter in 1914.

Dear Father,

Well how is the weather in Ludington It has been awful cold here for the last week, I think it will rain tonight. From your Loving Daughter, Lillie

Write soon.

The New Princess Theater , also in Chicago, was built in 1906 for traditional stage productions with seating for 900. But it soon evolved into a hall for vaudeville acts and then movies. It closed in 1937.

The card is postmarked 1909 from Chicago to Miss Louise Amish of Rochester, NY.

Someone named ~~Luecta (?~~) Luetta writes,

This is certainly a large city.

And now a postcard view of Fifth and Edmond Streets in St. Joseph, Missouri of 1913, where
All cars in the city pass this point.
The Orpheum theater, with 1000 seats, is on the corner. I think the vehicle on the left of the streetcar is an electric automobile.

It closed in 1957. Sadly here is what the corner of 5th and Edmond in St. Joseph looks like today. I don't think all the cars in St. Joseph pass by anymore.

UPDATE: I took a virtual walking tour around St. Joseph and made an interesting discovery.
If you use the Google Street View controls to turn around and "walk" back up Edmond St. to the 700 Block you will see another vintage theater, The Missouri, that has survived. A fine example of what looks like Oriental Art Deco, it was built in 1927 with 1200 seats, and in the late 70's was turned into a performing arts center for the city.

View Larger Map

George Crooks of Brantford, Ont. got this succinct note on the back of the postcard in April 1913.

Hello Tom

The CinemaTreasures.org website has this great image of the interior of the Orpheum Theater. Note the orchestra on right side of the movie screen.

interior Orpheum Theater, St. Joseph, MO

Perhaps they were showing this. An excerpt page from a wonderful Google eBook, The Moving Picture World from 1913. Another great resource on the history of early theaters and cinema.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

Click the link to find more photos of this week's theme of Majestic Theaters.

A Child Violinist from Raleigh

2012-01-21T10:32:00.000-05:00

What turns an ordinary photo into a great photograph? The age or location of the photo often determines how uncommon it is. The subject or the occupation that is depicted has a major influence on its rarity. And a name and date will always add value. But I think it is the story, the narrative of what we see in the image, that can really transform a photograph. Some photos, like the Missouri violinist last week, invite a fictional story. But others, like this cabinet card of a little girl with her violin, offer a true story.

A typical photograph of this era might have a child holding a cherished doll, but this young girl confidently holds a violin under her chin, the bow placed correctly on the strings. It is a challenging pose for the photographer, as we can see the special stand behind her feet to keep her still. The violin takes many years of disciplined practice to acquire the necessary musical skills, so it was often started at an early age. Today the violin is associated with small children because of the teaching methods of Shin'ichi Suzuki (1898-1998) who, just after WWII, developed a music program of violin instruction in Japan that is now used around the world. It uses violins reduced to ½ and ¼ sizes to aid little fingers, but this girl holds a full size instrument.

The age of this photo, which dates to mid-1890s, is not at all uncommon, but the place, Raleigh, North Carolina, certainly is. Even during this post-Civil War era, photographs from Southern states are much less common than those from Northern or Mid-Western states. As an example, during this week on eBay, a search of "North Carolina, cabinet" in the antique photograph sales produced 14 listings. A search for "South Carolina, cabinet" showed only 23 items. But Michigan had 474 listings, Pennsylvania 664, Ohio 902, and New York 1,160. The photographer is Benjamin S. Mattocks, who was born 1855 in North Carolina. But he seems to have left Raleigh sometime before the turn of the century, as his name is listed in the 1897 City Directory for Houston, Texas, along with 13 other photographers.

But this interesting trivia
is not the story, which actually begins on the photo's back. There, written in pencil, is the girl's name Fanny Hines Johnson, and her age 6 yrs - 5 mos old in 1894.

Such a simple addition to a photo and yet how rewarding. The name and date are the key to the archives and gives the photo a name for its principal character.

But Fanny or Fannie turns out to be a very poplar name in the 19th century. And as I discovered, there certainly were a lot of Johnson families that liked the name. So the writer who gave the middle name Hines, gets special thanks, as this usefully narrowed the search even more.

1900 US Census for Raleigh, NC

Her father, (found at the bottom of the previous census page) was Charles E. Johnson, a cotton broker in 1900. He and his wife Margaret (or possibly Mary) along with Fannie, age 12, and Mary and Charles, her older sister and brother, lived on 120 Hillsboro Street, now spelled Hillsborough St in Raleigh. Their house, though now gone, was only one block from the NC State Capital and the Confederate War Memorial monument. Undoubtedly Charles must have been a prosperous businessman to have the resources to photograph his daughter displaying her musical talent. According to the 1900 census records, there was a George Mears, occupation: Music Teacher who lived very close. Perhaps he was Fannie's violin teacher.

View Larger Map

By the next census in 1910, Charles E. Johnson has become a bank president. Fannie, now 22, is still at home. Perhaps she continued to play violin in a church orchestra or a local society chamber group. But one imagines that at this age, a young woman has more on her mind than music.

Unfortunately, this is when most stories unravel. The thread of a woman's name changes with marriage and unless there is an official notice recorded, the trail will go cold. The name Fannie was just as popular with Williams and Smiths. Where will she be in 1920? At first there was nothing, but then I found her. And at the same address.

1919 NC Death Certificate for Fannie Hines (Johnson) Harriss

Fannie was now Mrs. Fannie Hines Harriss, house-wife, and 93 years ago this week, on January 15, 1919 at the age of 31, she died of pneumonia arising from influenza, a victim of the terrible pandemic that flashed across the globe during the final months of the Great War of 1914-18. The erroneously named Spanish Flu , claimed far more lives than the war, with estimates between 50 and 100 million deaths worldwide. In Raleigh, Fannie was one of thousands across the state of North Carolina who died.

A report in 1919 from the North Carolina State Board of Health, stated that 13,703 citizens died of influenza between October 1918 and March 1919. Physicians, and medical facilities all across the nation were overwhelmed. Cities in North Carolina closed theaters and schools, and prohibited public meetings and events. But to no avail, as thousand of seemingly healthy people were suddenly struck down by this deadly virus, which could bring death within days, and sometimes hours. Mortality rates of those afflicted with this virulent influenza reached 20% compared to 0.1% with ordinary flu, and the highest rate of deaths were among young adults like Fannie.

At the time this disease was little understood, and it was only after the determined and heroic effort of many scientists and doctors that a vaccine was created that could stall the advance of this epidemic. I highly recommend a book entitled The Great Influenza by John M. Barry, which describes the epic history of this plague which killed so many people.

Fannie had moved to Wilmington, NC with her husband Meares Harriss, a real estate broker. They had two children, and as far as I know, they survived along with her mother and father.

All of the people in my photograph collection have died of course, many many years ago. Most remain anonymous and only a few photos provide some clues to discover their lives behind the image. While it is surprisingly easy to find the beginning and middle stories to these people, as births, families, and locations are so carefully recorded every 10 years for the census, the death records are extremely difficult to find. So it is very rare for an amateur historian like myself to get a complete timeline for a person in a 100 year old photograph. This picture of a pretty little girl with her violin, born on Christmas Day in 1887, who tragically perished in one of the great plagues of world history is hardly a complete picture of the person, but it shows us a rare arc of time that makes her image all the more precious.

For more photos and stories of other little girls, click the link to Sepia Saturday

A Missouri Sweetheart

2012-01-13T16:01:00.001-05:00

A short half-fiction

invented from an old postcard.

The screen door gave a loud crack as father came into the kitchen. "The postman came early today, Joe. Got a letter from my cousin in Slater and there's something in it for you too." He handed a card to his son.

The boy looked up from his oatmeal and frowned. He took the card and gave it a glance. "Oh geez," he groaned. "Why'd she go and send me this." He tossed the photo onto the table.

Tip smiled as he set down his coffee and reached over to rub the boy's hair. "Maybe she's sweet on you." The boy was 17 and had grown so tall this past year that he now towered over his four sisters. But they all shared their mother's blue eyes and auburn hair. "Well, I guess I got to get down to the shop now. Mr. Olson wants those two wagons finished by Saturday. He's sending them down the river to St. Louis and he might need some help. You want me to ask if he'll take you on? You'd be back Sunday night."

Joe stirred his oatmeal like he had found a fly swimming in it. "Naw, I got something else to do Pa." He watched as his father picked up his lunch pail and went out the door. As soon as he heard the side gate close, he picked up the postcard. Dumb photograph. Who did she think she was? Mary Pickford? He turned it over.

The florid handwriting made him shiver. Was she coming to Hannibal again? He wasn't exactly sure where Slater, Missouri was. He knew Pa had said it was out west, maybe 100 miles or so on toward Kansas City. His cousins ran a boarding house there. He'd seen it once when they'd gone for a visit. He remembered the house dining room filled with the bluster and clatter that came from the rowdy brakemen and firemen who lived there while waiting for their next train assignment. Lots of men sitting around, smoking, chewing, and spitting. A bit like the coarse river boatmen who stayed in the rooming houses here in Hannibal, down the next block on Broadway toward the wharfs on the Mississippi.

Here it was almost April, 1912 and last summer seemed a world away. Most of her time here, she had stayed with his sisters Gertrude, Margaret, and Juliet, their constant chatter like the chickens out back. Pa understood and found him extra work to do down at the wagon shop.

He traced the little pigtails on the initials L.S. that twisted around like the scroll of her violin. But she surely played a good fiddle though. That day when she took a turn playing for the church social, that caught his attention. Later he had taken out his cornet for her and she taught him some swell dance tunes.

But now there was Becky. He wasn't sure how he would explain this to her. She lived across the street and talked to his sisters all the time. He sure didn't want them to see this photo and start telling. He could hear them moving about upstairs. They'd be down any moment. He paced around the kitchen table.

Two hearts. Why did he ever get two? The county fair was the big feature last August, and his older sister Alice had got them tickets for near every day. They'd heard the bands, seen the animals, and went to the carnival twice. Stupid luck. His long arms could throw a ball so well and so hard, that the carnival barker said it was the best of the day. So of course he went a second time. Choose any two he said. Any two. So he picked out the little heart-shaped lockets.

He heard Gertrude's and Juliet's voices coming down the steps. He quickly went into the sitting room and over to the family bookshelf. He spotted the biggest book and flipped through the pages. He looked at the girl in the photo one last time. It was so hidden, you'd hardly notice it.

Two hearts, he had to get two. Stupid. He slipped the card in between Remiss and Reply, and closed the dictionary, putting it back on the shelf. No one will ever find it there, he thought. He wouldn't ever want Becky to see where the second heart went.

Coda:

This postcard photo was sent to Joseph M.Marshall of Hannibal, Missouri. Here is an excerpt from the 1910 US Census showing his father Tip and Margaret Marshal, and three of his 4 sisters. (Alice Marshall was the oldest and is listed in the 1900 census)

In 1917, Joe filled in his draft registration and provided us with a description of the boy to whom L.S. writes. He is married now but doesn't list his wife's name. Are her initials L.S. or something different? History keeps quiet on this point.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday.

Click the link for more enthusiasts of vintage photos and fancy hats.

Two Cincinnati Top Hats

2012-01-06T23:13:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time in Cincinnati, Ohio there was a fancy dress ball. In a society season of the 1890's, a young lady and her dressmaker created a most elaborate and beautiful outfit celebrating the horn, or specifically the post horn. The lady was so delighted with the effect that she had her photo taken to commemorate the occasion. She wears a wonderful coat and dress embroidered with horns, along with a silk top hat, and expertly holds a small post horn to her lips.

from www.postovnimuzeum.cz/en/

The Post Horn was once a very common instrument. Played by the postillion, a man mounted on one of the coach horses, its call announced the approach of the fast mail coach, signaled a command to clear the roadway, or gave advance notice to the post station for fresh horses. Like the sound of the bugle and the coach horn, it was a music of utility and practical purpose that is now lost.

The design of the post horn is now the universal symbol for a Postal Service, and nearly every nation has used it at one time or another on their stamps. This is a German stamp series from the 1950's.

Deutsche Bundespost from Wikimedia Commons

The young lady's purpose for her dress is really only a guess. However Cincinnati was a very important place for culture and society in 19th century America. Located on the Ohio River, it was a center of industry and commerce and attracted many European immigrants, notably Germans. So a dress with a Post Horn theme would not be an odd fashion for a young woman from a German heritage to choose for a Fasching or carnival ball. Alas her name is unknown, and though I know this cabinet card was taken in Cincinnati, the photographer's name must remain unknown for now, as I gave the original to a good friend as a gift and failed to save the original full scan of the photo.

The second Cincinnati top hat is in a cabinet photograph of an unknown gentleman with his violin, standing ready for a conductor's downbeat. His violin case lays open showing an extra bow, and on a fern stand at his side are his top hat and gold capped cane. Surely this is a professional musician, perhaps even a concertmaster of a Cincinnati orchestra. I think he has a very Germanic look about him, which would be the typical nationality for most orchestral musicians in the major American cities of this era.

The photographer is Herman Mueller of 607 Central Ave. Cincinnati, O. and despite the 5 or 6 pages of Muellers, I found his name easily in the city directories, as Herman Mueller was the only photographer. Born in Germany in 1833, Herman started his photography studio in Cincinnati around 1885, but only the 1888 directory lists the address as Central Ave. as in later years he continued on Vine St. until just after 1910. Interestingly, Herman's two daughters Maria and Alfrieda Mueller were listed in the census as a photographers too. Did they hear this gentleman play his violin that day?

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

Click the link for more enthusiasts of vintage photographs and rabbits.

The Christmas Surprise

2011-12-31T00:37:00.001-05:00

A holiday short story wrapped in an old photograph.

The fragrance of fir tree and rosemary swirled through the room as Anja cleared the table, skillfully balancing the tray in one hand while collecting cutlery and plates. The girls had finished their supper early and brought their new dolls to the table.

"Careful, Katharina," she admonished. "You don't want to soil her frock. Uncle Eduard will be very displeased if you treat his gift so mean."

"Have you given your dolly a name, little Kathi?" asked Eduard. "She must have a name for a proper introduction to your other friends." He gave his guitar a quick strum for emphasis.

"Her name is ... is ..." The child paused. "Lena!"

He bowed his head and shook the small porcelain hand. "How do you do, Miss Lena? So nice to make your acquaintance."

"Oh, Uncle Eddie, please play some dance music for my doll too," cried Isabell. "You and Papa and Uncle Josef know so many good ones." She lifted onto her toes and spun her doll through the air.

"Brother, have you met Lena, my dearest friend?" He plucked out a slow waltz beat. "She is the most beautiful dancer at the New Year's ball. And Felix, you will be most charmed by her artful footwork."

Josef took up his horn and began a slow four note arpeggio. Felix raised his bow and the violin slid in with the soft counter melody. Isabell's eyes widened. "Yes, yes, the Blue Danube. My favorite!"

The sound of horn, violin and guitar now filled the house with a different perfume, thought Anja. As she bent over the table, Marie gave her a kiss. "That was a wonderful dinner, Anja. So delicious. Don't you think so, mother?"

The old woman cupped her ear and nodded. "Ja, sehr sehr gut. Ein vorzügliches Abendessen." Her eyelids slowly closed as she rocked to the music.

"Thank you, Mother Sophie." she smiled. "I was so lucky to get the best cuts at Schroeder's. Though I'm sure it was still not as tender as those in Dresden"

"Nonsense," said Marie. "It is the cook who makes the meal. Josef is so lucky to have such a talented wife. I'm afraid my Felix must suffer through too many of my poor suppers. Sometime you must show me how you did that sauce." She stroked the little girl's hair. "What do you say Frieda? Shall we learn to make Zwiebelkuchen for Papa and Isabell?"

Anja finished with the remaining dishes and brought out the platter of special Christmas cakes and chocolate treats. The girls squealed in delight and abandoned all thoughts of dancing dolls. The musicians now segued into Oh, Tannenbaum. The horn and violin alternated the high and low phrases and Eduard sang in falsetto making the children laugh.

As they paused to take refreshment, Josef set his horn down and reached behind the tree. He turned toward Anja and placed a parcel wrapped in brown paper before her. "This is for you, my sweet. Father Christmas has left you a gift because you have been so good and kind this year."

She gave him a playful frown and began to untie the string. "What have you done, Josef? You know we must not spend more money right now." She removed the paper and held up a cardboard box. This time the frown was more serious.

"Open it," he said, giving the box a nudge. She unfolded the lid and pulled out a smaller box covered in black leatherette.

"What is it, Mama?" said Kathi.

"It's a camera!" she gasped. "Oh, thank you, Josef. It is just like the one in Herr Schneider's shop window. I saw him put up the display last week, and he showed me how it works."

From the Duke University Digital Collection

Josef smiled. "Yes, I know. He has always spoken highly of your photography skills when you worked for him in his studio. His son plays viola alongside Eduard in the orchestra. He thought this new camera would be perfect for a lady to take on a holiday. I thought so too." Her face changed to a mixture of joy and puzzlement. "Yesterday after the concert, Mr. Muller announced that the orchestra will go on tour this spring to finish the season. We perform in Boston and Philadelphia too."

"But Josef, what did you mean by holiday? Kathi and I can not travel with you and the orchestra on the train."

"No, not on the train. But on a ship you can. Tell her, Felix"

"My cousin Otto leads a small salon orchestra on the SS Kronprinz Wilhelm. He needs substitute musicians in May for the the return voyage to Bremen." Felix selected another chocolate. "I wrote to him about my wife's very musical brothers, and he agreed to engage Josef and Eduard to play in his band."

"Would you like that?" asked Josef. "You and Kathi may travel for a discounted ticket. And with the extra money I make on this tour, I thought we could take a summer holiday back to Germany. A real adventure." He picked up his horn again and blew a loud fanfare. "I knew you wanted to send some photographs to your father in Berlin. But now we can take Katharina in person to visit him. And with the camera, you can take photographs of all the wonderful things we see on the trip to save for the family here. What do you think?"

She laughed and stepped back with the camera. "Yes, I would like that very much," she said. Twisting the box, she squinted into the viewfinder. "But I do not need to travel across the ocean to see wonderful things." She clicked the shutter.

My holiday contribution to Sepia Saturday

Click the link to find more enthusiasts of vintage photographs.

Charles Reynolds Williams, Esq.

2011-12-16T16:28:00.002-05:00

This post is my 100th photo essay since I began this website two years ago. As most projects will do, my original intent has evolved since The First Post, and now that the internet provides so many new ways to integrate multi-media material with text commentary, I feel I've become more a curator of a virtual museum. But since it is my museum, I can bend the rules if I like, and I will mark the occasion of this post with a different kind of non-musical photo story. There is a musician, but not in any of the vintage photographs.

The gentleman at the reins is Charles Reynolds Williams, Esq. with his grandson Charles R. Williams and Cross, his groomsman. The photo was taken near Dolgellau, Wales and dates from around 1896. It was a photograph included in an auction lot of a 1900's scrapbook that I purchased many years ago. It is a very large albumen photo mounted on cardstock with the names written in pencil. It may have been the work of a professional photographer, but there are no other markings.

Charles Reynolds Williams is about 80 here, to judge by his grandson who was born in 1886. Williams made his career as a solicitor in London, and after retirement moved to Plas Dolmelynllyn, an estate he acquired in western Wales in what is now the Coed y Brenin Forest Park.

In this next photo, Williams stands on the steps of "Dolly", showing off the landscaped garden of the main house, which dates from the 17th century. He purchased the grounds of this manor house and also, as I recently discovered, another larger estate nearby, Penmaenuchaf Hall in about 1865.

Though of Welsh decent, Williams was born in India in 1816 and at the age of 6 returned to England with his parents. In the days before the Suez Canal, this was a 5 month long voyage around Africa. On December 31, 1846 he married Margaret Marshall Romer at St. Pancras Church in London and they had three children, Eleanor, Minnie, and Romer.

Their home was No. 48 Gloucester Square, just above Hyde Park, which one can still see today in Google Street View. It was a typical upscale London row house on a garden square, probably with a mews behind. In the 1861 census, the Williams family household included a mother-in-law, a younger cousin, and a butler, footman, lady's maid, cook, housemaid and under-housemaid.

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Charles kept a respectable law partnership at No. 62, Lincoln's Inn Fields, an address appropriate for an upper level lawyer, and seems to have specialized in estate law, that Dickensian subject that was always complicating the lives of various plucky young men and women in the 19th century. He published a book on his career in 1883, called Some Professional Recollections, which Google has deemed worthy of including in its library. It is a light memoir which includes several arcane stories that would no doubt entertain other lawyers familiar with the personages and the legal devices. The best part is the last chapter which he devotes to a tour of India he took with with his brother, a noted Oriental scholar, after retirement in 1878. This time using the new Suez Canal.

He also wrote another book called The Defence of Kahun: a forgotten episode from the first Afghan war: being a narrative compiled from a journal kept during the siege, and from original letters. A book about the British/Afghan conflict of 1840, and one in which we in the 21st century can unfortunately appreciate the irony of this tragic place.

My impression is that Charles was both a skilled writer and a talented raconteur of good stories. And certainly a good attorney to represent one's interests. He died on November 20, 1905, at age 89 and left an estate valued at £85,078 7s. to his son Romer Williams. In today's terms that could be valued at between £6 and £27 million. A different Charles Williams, a vinegar-maker of Cardiff, who died in August 1905 left an estate of only £34 3s. 11d. Romer, who was also a London solicitor, sold Dolmelynllyn in 1907.

If you have read this far, you might ask, how or more particularly why do I know so much about this gentleman of the 19th century? The answer is a story about me and explains why I so enjoy history and especially photographs.

***

Many years ago, I lived in London in a house very like Mr. Williams' in Paddington, but located below Hyde Park in Earl's Court. But though the household population may have been the same, it had long ago been divided up into cheap bedsit rooms for the assortment of foreigners and young frugal music students like myself. My room had a balcony overlooking a beautiful residential park, and was probably once the breakfast room or study.

One of my favorite free entertainments was a stop at Christie's auction house to check out the latest sales. The South Kensington branch specialized in the middle level of fine art and historic items including furniture, musical instruments, and ephemera - a word I did not know then, but have since used many times to describe the photographs and paper I now collect. What made these auction previews so much fun was the chance to examine and handle antiques that otherwise would be beyond my ability to own or hidden behind glass in a museum.

One day an auction of autographs, stamps, and ephemera attracted my attention, and there I discovered a box containing a Victorian era scrapbook. This large simple binder was filled with countless letters, photographs, sketches, cards, and news clippings all coming from the life of one man - Charles Reynolds Williams. There was no order to the material, but I was fascinated by the quantity of different things and how it described the golden age of Victorian/Edwardian London.

After I left at closing, I could not stop thinking about it. Now I should explain that my knowledge of Britain was largely shaped by the many British television series that I had watched on PBS like Upstairs Downstairs, or The Duchess of Duke Street. This scrapbook was like a talisman to actually touch someone from that period. I could not resist and the next day went back to the auction.

There were hundreds of lots, and fortuitously this one was one of the last as the antique dealers seemed to have reached their limits. I raised my hand a few times and suddenly I was the winning bidder! I could hardly contain my excitement in the rush to take it back to my flat and open up this treasure chest that was now mine.

In hindsight, I'm not sure which cliche applies here, "One man's treasure is another man's trash." or "A fool and his money are soon parted." At the time, I did not care. This was real history unlike anything I had read about in books. Williams put no real organization to this material, there were some annotations but no chronological system. It more resembled my own hodge-podge method for filing letters and receipts.

Now for the twist in my story. The following Monday, my landlady called me to the house payphone, which was unusual as I never received phone calls. It was the sales manager from Christie's. He explained that they wanted to buy the scrapbook back. Regrettably he could offer no reason, but he could offer twice what I had paid for it.

I was dumbfounded, but said I would consider it. What did this mean? How could this jumble of paper now be more valuable? Could there a real treasure hidden inside? I would never know unless I did some research. So I began to make a list. Several lists.

For the next four days I wrote down every person, place, and event that I could find amongst the many letters, autographs, and photos of this scrapbook. Names of barons with long titles and generals with polysyllabic surnames; obscure colonial battles and remote foreign places. And did I mention stamps? I became very familiar with the reference stacks at the Chelsea library.

All of this was far beyond anything I had learned from Masterpiece Theater. Who were these people? Charles conveniently had drawn up his family genealogy which made it easier to decipher some of the many letters, telegrams, and photos. But there were many other names too. Maybe the young Winston Churchill was a client? Was Charles Reynolds Williams on King Edward's private telegram list? Did Charles like to have a pint with Gilbert and/or Sullivan? Williams had obviously met a vast number of people that were important to him and he saved everything.

After an exhaustive search I came to only one conclusion. There was really only one important value in this scrapbook. Family.

I returned the scrapbook to Christie's and doubled my investment. The sales manager did say that the scrapbook would go back to a Williams descendant, but he could not elaborate on how it came to be in the auction.

***

I stayed in London for another year, but eventually ran out of money and returned to America. But I kept in touch. After securing a position with a small orchestra, I asked a lovely young English woman to marry me, and we made our home in Georgia. But by coincidence, my father-in-law was also a London solicitor, and whose specialty was estate law. I think he and Charles would have made a great pair, as they shared a deep love of close friends and good stories.

On a trip back to London several years later, while looking through a National Trust Guidebook, I was startled to discover that Dolly was still standing! Plas Dolmelynllyn was now a fine private hotel withing a national forest. We had to go see it.

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Alas, I was still a frugal musician, and now with a toddler in tow, so we could not afford to stay at the hotel. But the grounds were open, and I knew the photo I wanted to take. The spire is gone, as is the redwood on the right, lightning perhaps, but the dolphin fountain is still there and so are the fine terraced steps. Here is a side view of the main house, the terrace is below on the left.

***

In that box, there were a few large photos that were loose, unattached to the scrapbook, and Christie's had never cataloged any of the contents. If they only requested the scrapbook, and didn't actually ask for the photos too, what would you do?

So now Charles Reynolds Williams, Esq. has a place in my virtual museum. His history is not especially remarkable and resembles the lives of many London professional gentlemen. But his collection introduced me to a kind of personal history, rich in the details of people and events, that continues to intrigue my eye, whenever I find a good photograph. What's the real story we see?

A final photo that was on the back of the photo mount of Dolmelynllyn. I think it looks up the river Rhaeadr Dhu which is near Dolly. Someday I hope to find it and take a photo like one this too.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

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12/31/11 UPDATE:

In a wonder of the internet age that would surely astonish Charles Reynolds Williams, his great great grandson contacted me within hours soon after I posted this story. He has generously provided some photos of Charles and Dolmelynllyn Hall which I add as a fitting postscript to his history.


Charles Reynolds Williams and family c.1904

Plas Dolmelynllyn c.2010

Dolmelynllyn Hall detail showing East Indian carved filigree.

Upper monument on gravestone of Charles Reynolds and Margaret Marshall Williams

Gravestone of Charles Reynolds and Margaret Marshall Williams

Three Boy Violinists

2011-12-09T15:14:00.001-05:00

Once a long time ago, a proud mother and father stood behind a photographer as he positioned his camera in front of a young boy holding a violin. The boy stands at the ready, violin under his chin and bow arm relaxed. The music on his wire stand is just slightly out of focus so we can not read the notes, but we can see enough to know that it is not the simple exercises of a beginning student. His eyes have an assured quality that expectantly asks us a question. Would we like to hear him play?

There is no identification for this young violinist, so his name is unknown. I would estimate his age as 7 maybe 8. His short pants, high button shoes, and jacket's sailor collar look to be from around 1900. But it was a popular fashion, so it could be 1890 or 1910 too.

But we do know the place: Berlin.

The photographer's mark is actually the name of a department store, A. Jandorf & Co, once a major chain in Berlin with several locations. These giant retail emporiums were founded in the 1890's by Adolf Jandorf (1870-1932) with the initial idea of offering inexpensive goods to Berlin's growing population.

Jandorf became a very successful businessman and in the 1900s saw an opportunity for starting something even larger. The Kaufhaus des Westensor, or KaDeWe which opened in 1907 and is still the premier shopping house in Berlin. A bit more upscale than its predecessors, the store continues a tradition of beautiful presentation of quality merchandise from around the world.

Two addresses are on the back of the photo, Belle-Alliance Str. 1/2 and Spittel-Markt 16/17.
I do not know if the other stores continued beyond 1907, but this photo, taken from the German Wikipedia entry for Jandorf, shows the Belle-Alliance storefront from 1898 as illustrated on the photo's back.

Since German optics at the time of the Kaiser were considered to be the highest in quality, one would imagine that photographers in a store like this would be very skilled and have the best equipment. I would think they were also kept very busy in such a fashionable city with so many layers of class and society.

This second photograph comes from Halberstadt a town in the central German state of Saxony-Anhalt. There is no identification other than the Halberstadt photographer's name, Paul Rehe on Roonstrasse 2.

This young violinist wears another type of boy's sailor suit and has his violin tucked confidently under his right arm. He is older than the first boy, maybe 9 or 10. Again the boy's clothing suggest 1900 but it might be earlier or later. His shoes are high but with laces. Note the fur or sheepskin rug, a common 19th century furnishing for photographer's studios.

I see in his pose a mature and experienced musician. Is he a prodigy too?
I don't think we can ever know about either boy. One bit of trivia for Halberstadt was the information that in the 17th century, it had the largest Jewish community in Germany. Perhaps this boy is a link to the many German-Jewish musicians that came from this great artistic period.

The third photo is a postcard of a violinist who, though technically not German, has a caption that is written in German. Unlike the other two, we know this boy's name.

Der kleine ungarische Violin-Virtuos Karl Gara-Guly ~ The small Hungarian violin virtuoso Karl Gara-Guly.

Karl appears to be 6 or 7, about the same age as another Hungarian violin prodigy that I wrote about earlier this fall, Kun Arpad. Karl, like Kun is dressed in a sailor-suit style but with soft leather slippers instead of shoes.

His name, like many Hungarians, is spelled in several variations and it took some hunting until I found him as Carl von Garaguly, born 1900 in Budapest, died 1984.

Garaguly studied violin under Henri Marteau (1874-1934), who was also a child prodigy, performing in 1884 in Vienna at the age of 10. In 1907, Marteau joined the Berlin Hochschule für Musik as head professor of violin. The Berlin Hochschule trained many famous musicians, so he might have known the first boy too, or even Kun Arpad. Though his mother was German, his father was French, so he was expelled from Germany during WWI and went to Sweden to make a new career. Obviously a gifted teacher, his influence continues with the Marteau International Violin Competition.

Garaguly seems to have followed Marteau, and made his career in Sweden also. As happened to so many concert musicians, the Great War disrupted the network of concert stages, which were only to be shattered again with WWII. Garaguly became the principal conductor of the Stockholm Concert Society, the precursor to the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra from 1942 to 1953, and then led the Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra from 1952 to 1958.

You can see a picture of an older Carl von Garyguly at this website devoted to Famous Hungarian Musicians. It's at the very top of the page.

The card was postmarked from Amberg, Bayern or Bavaria on 13 May 1910. The handwriting is in in pencil and I have increased the contrast for readability should anyone out on the web wish to decipher this card. Just figuring out the addressee is a big challenge.

I'd like to know if the two young Hungarian violinists, Karl Garyguly and Kun Arpad ever met. Did they trade stories of favorite performances and bad concert halls? What languages did they speak? Did they try out each others instrument or trade bows?
And just maybe, they tried to remember the names of those other two boys.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday whose theme photo is the thumbnail image below. Click the link to find more enthusiasts of vintage photographs.

The Imperial Girls Band of Reading, Michigan

2011-12-01T17:51:00.001-05:00

This may be my favorite photo in all of my collection. It's a postcard of a ladies band, or actually a girls band, from the first decade of the 20th century. The symmetrical composition, clear focus, side lighting, and especially the young ladies themselves, I think transform this simple group portrait into an extraordinarily beautiful photograph. It's also a great example of a Ladies Band, a musical fad now forgotten, but once very popular in hundreds of small mid-west towns in America.

But like many of my finds, the back of the card is blank and has no postmark. There are no clues except the letter R embroidered onto their fez style hats.

Who were they? When were they? Where were they?

Patience has brought some answers though, and during a typical internet search for more photographs, I discovered more postcards of this same ladies band that were slightly different. This second one is identical but includes a caption written on the front, Girls Band, Reading, Mich. The clarity is a bit less than the first card and that is perhaps explained by the logo on the back showing it was printed by the Bryan Postcard Co,. of Bryan, OH.

The card was sent from Reading on March 10, 1910 to Mrs. Geo. Bateman of Lansing, MI.

Reading, Michigan is a small township in south central Michigan, about 75 miles west of Toledo, Ohio. In 1910 the population was only 2104 citizens and yet they supported a very attractive band of 13 girls. Most playing brass instruments with one clarinet.

The gentleman at the back would likely be the band leader / music teacher, though he doesn't hold an instrument. Typically a leader would play a cornet. But even though there is now a place associated with the letter R, a date, and a town, it is not enough to identify him. But then I went delving into the thousands of photos that people post on Ancestry.com of their family genealogy. What might be connected to Reading, Michigan?

There I found this same photocard attached to the name Simeon Jerome Whaley (1853 - 1936), along with a family portrait of the same man and his wife. Simeon was a brick mason, and with his wife Anna Davis Whaley had one son, Delevan (possibly aka: Robert), and four daughters, Winnifred, Margaret, Rae, and Jessie. According to his descendants, Simeon was the band leader and Rae Whaley, age 18, was also in the band. My first guess as to which one was her was incorrect. Can you find her?

This band and its leader closely resembles another photo I have from the same period: Gierks Ladies Band of Richmond, Michigan. There William Gierk, like Simeon, a father with several daughters, used his musical talents to establish a brass band for girls. Unlike Gierk's girls in their homemade dresses, Mr. Whaley invested in some fancier uniforms and hats. Perhaps all the the way from Detroit.

The following year, the photographer in Reading who had no doubt taken the earlier photo, posed the band again and this time added Copyright 1911. D. S. Kelly (p.240), full name Daniel S. Kelly, born 1870 in Michigan. Perhaps this was an indication he wanted to protect this photo from being pirated by the Bryan Postcard Co. Or maybe he just wanted to establish some artistic control and publish the photo in a magazine.

In any case the band has acquired a bass drum emblazoned with their full name, the Imperial Girls Band, Reading, Mich. Its interesting how close this second photo imitates the first and yet there is something missing that makes it not the equal. There are now 15 girls, adding two more clarinetists. The uniforms and hats are are the same, note the hat pins, but they look more serious. And Rae Whaley is still in the band. She is the tuba player seated on the right in both photos. But I believe, Simeon is not in the photo.

The photo card was sent June 22, 1911 by Lulu to Mrs. Jay Crandall of Adrain (sic Adrian), Michigan.

What a marvelous invention was the postcard. The simplest of messages sent practically instantaneously. What did people do before the postcard, when they needed to nag someone?

Two years later, Mr. Kelly posed the Imperial Girls Band once again. They now number 16 musicians, adding a third tuba, but I don't see Rae. The band leader has changed hats, moving to a white summertime cap. But he is not Simeon.

This man has a mustache too but his facial features seem too different from Simeon's three years earlier.

But Mr. Kelly has cleverly arranged the girls the same way as in the 1910 photo, and by super-imposing the two images using the same girls in the center as the focus, you can see that the man with the white hat is clearly taller.

What do you think? Am I wrong? Is it the same man?

Who is he? I don't know. Simeon Whaley may have found more work as a brick mason that took away time with the girls band. There may have been a more accomplished musician in Reading, who was a better music instructor. Perhaps one day I can solve this mystery when a descendant of these young ladies finds this post and has an answer

On August 18, 1913, The Evening Statesman of Marshall, Michigan in the adjacent county published a list of events for the opening of their county fair. There were four bands providing music, and the Imperial Girls Band of Reading was one of them, performing 4 times throughout the day.

Tuesday —
1 P. M. — Grand blowing of factory whistles for fifteen minutes.

1:30 P. M. — No.2 Platform band concert by Ladies' Imperial band of Reading.

1:30 P. M. — Opposite No. 1 Fire station, the St. Clair Sisters in balloon ascension and releasing 100 small balloons, as an announcement to the outside cities that the homecoming celebration is opened.

2 P. M. — Main and Jefferson "Do Bell" unit on high wire. Grand Trunk band.

2:30 P. M. — No. 2 platform Jackson street, Major Westerman. clever baton swinging act. 4 Iskikawa Japs Acrobatic feats. Rennello and Sister, sensational bicycle act. Elks band.

3:15 P. M. — Main and McCamly streets, Prince, the diving dog, a thrilling high dive. Sanitarium band.

4:14 P. M. — State street between Jefferson and McCamly, sensational Smithson, leap the gap, Sanitarium band.

4:30 P. M. — In front of the Ellis Publishing company. The Flying Hubers, aerial act. Sanitarium band.

5 P. M. — No. 1 Stand, new city hall. The Reynolds Four foot jugglers and acrobats, Wilson and Aubery, some comedy. The Bluchers, trampoplain act. Girls' Imperial band.

7 P. M.—No. 2 Platform. Elks band concert.

7 P. M. — Opposite No. 1 Fire station, St. Clair sisters in balloon ascension, double parachute drop.

7:30 P. M. — No. 1 platform, the Reynolds four foot jugglers and acrobates. Wilson and Aubery, some comedy, the Bluchers, trampoplian act. Grand Trunk band.

8 P. M. — In front Ellis Publishing company, the Flying Hubers, great aerial act. Ladies Imperial band.

8:40 P. M. — Corner Main and Jefferson, "Do Bell" the limit on high wire. Ladies Imperial band.

9 P. M. — No. 2 platform, new city hall. Major Westerman, clever baton swinging act. Four Iskikawa Japs, acrobatic feats. Rennello and Sister, sensational bicycle act. Elks band.

9:30 P. M. — State street between Jefferson and McCamly. sensational Smithson leap the gap. Grand Trunk band.

10 P. M. — Main and MCamly street. Prince, the diving dog.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

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The Snare Drum and Cornet

2011-11-22T18:24:00.001-05:00

A short fiction seen through the lens of an old camera.

"That's you?", asked the boy.

"Yes, that was me. It was a very long time ago," he said. "I played in the band at school." It did seem like another world. After two wars and so much change, it seemed like a picture of someone else.

"G... G... Gosh, I never thought of you as a ... a ... you look shorter than me," stammered the boy. "Who's the other fella?"

He looked at the photo again. "That would be Louis. He and I were best friends. We both lived on the same street, just a couple of flats apart. We made quite a noise practicing." He could hear the sound of the cornet and the drum now, mixing into the calls and shouts from the tenements and the rumble and rattle from the street.

The boy handed the photo back. "Where'd you get the instruments?"

"Oh, these were brand new. Father McDonnell got a special deal from a music store over on 48th St. Everyone got to pick out one and then we started lessons everyday at school. Father Mac led the band himself." He could remember little of the music they first played. But he could recall the concerts. Playing for the rest of the school; parades for the special saint days and church pageants; once even for the governor and the mayor. Music for almost every purpose, and he and Louie played it all.

He saw that the boy was still watching him closely. "So what happened to him?"

"Louis? He almost finished out at Our Lady's School, but times got hard for him. His dad had a bad accident down at the docks and lost his job, and with a big family, Louis had to go out and get work. But the work he found was with some pretty rough people. Before long he was involved with some gang running whiskey and rum. It didn't end well". That day he read the newspaper report on the murder, and Louie's name jumped from the page, was a moment that still stopped his heart.

"Father Mark?" The boy hesitated. "Do you think I could play an instrument?"

"Sure you could. I bet you'd make a great drummer or cornet player. I'll have a word tomorrow with Sister Rose" He patted the boy on the back. "Run down and tell Sister Mary that I'll be down in a moment."

"Gee, you mean I get to choose?" The boy's eyes were wide with excitement.

"Yes, you get a choice. The snare drum or the cornet."

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A Detroit Contrabassoon

2011-11-18T14:10:00.001-05:00

Detroit - a name attached to teams like the Red Wings, the Pistons, and the Tigers; to brands like Ford, Chrysler, and General Motors; and to one of America's great musical institutions, the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. In 1946 a Detroit News photographer went to a rehearsal of the Detroit Symphony and focused on the imposing features of the Contrabassoon to take this picture of musicians at work.

The lowest of all orchestral instruments, the contrabassoon or kontrafagott is approximately 18 feet long. The modern instrument is folded into a more compact form with the bell nearly touching the floor, but this contrabassoon is from an earlier design and places the bell at about the same height as the regular bassoon. It uses a double reed that is larger than the bassoon reed and gives it a unique sonority that supports not only the woodwind instruments but the entire bass sound of an orchestra. It can make a pretty overpowering honk and I believe the fuzzy pineapple thing at the bottom of the photo is a mute for the contrabassoon.

Perhaps the easiest way to understand this special sound of the orchestra, is to watch this YouTube video of a duet for bassoon and contrabassoon. The music is by P.D.Q. Bach, a.k. Peter Schickele, and is performed by students at Western Washington University. Part 2 is also worth a listen.

The back of the photograph has two dates stamped: NOV 10, 1946 and 1946 OCT 21 3PM. In 1939 the Detroit Symphony succumbed to the financial challenges of the depression and gave up using their original Orchestra Hall. After trying other concert venues, in 1946 they took over the Wilson Theatre and renamed it the Detroit Music Hall. The first subscription concert was on October 24, 1946 with Karl Krueger, conductor.

The program was:
Beethoven ~ Leonore Overture No. 3, Op. 72A
Brahms ~ Sym. No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98
Barber ~ Adagio for Strings
Liadov ~ Kikimora, Op. 63
Delius ~ On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring
Ravel ~ Suite No. 2 from Daphnis et Chloé

Though there is a contrabassoon in the Brahms, only the Ravel has 3 bassoons and contra. So the sound you can almost hear in this photo is from Ravel's 2nd Suite from Daphnis and Chloe.

The musician is labeled on the photo as Gerold A. Schon. The 1930 US Census, the most recent available to the public, recorded a Gerold A. Schon, living in Detroit, born 1893 Chicago, wife's name Gertrude Schon, who listed his profession as Musician, Music Professor. But in my search of the internet, there was also a Gerold Schon listed as a cellist who played with the Philadelphia Orchestra from 1918-20. The same name also turned up as a cello soloist in concert programs for the US Marine Band from the 1920's.

As luck would have it, Ancestry.com offered up a US passport application from 1923, complete with a small photo of Gerold and Gertrude. He even signed it too. Could this be the same man, 23 years younger? The 6 ft+ height, the glasses, and the receding hairline would seem a close match, but the applicant asks for the passport to be sent to a Mancini U.S.M.B. - the United States Marine Band in Washington D.C.

The Reading PA Eagle from NOV 16, 1922 has a concert review of the Marine Band and mentions cellists Fritz Mueller and Gerold Schon. So I think the photographer got the wrong name and this man is not the bassoonist, but is instead Gerold Schon - the cellist who played with the Marine Band, and probably with the Detroit Symphony. It seems very unlikely that a cellist would abandon that instrument to pursue a career as a bassoonist.

This past year, the musicians of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra were engaged in a lengthy labor action with its board and management, which shut down concerts from October 2010 to April 2011. They have now resumed performances for this season but their struggle is shared by many musicians around the country, whose orchestras are also threatened by debt and even bankruptcy.

So far I have been unable to get a musician roster from the archives of the Detroit Symphony which would give me a definitive answer, but if you lift enough stones on the internet you can sometimes uncover some interesting clues. In the Fall, 2006 issue of Michigan Jewish History (p4 -16), there was a story on the Little Symphony of Detroit, a chamber orchestra started in 1948 by Bernard Rosen, bass clarinetist of the DSO. His idea was to create a small orchestra performing without a conductor to add to the concerts of the Detroit Symphony.

But in 1949, the DSO faced difficult contract negotiations, with harsh concessions demanded that would reduce the season from 20 weeks to 16, cut the $100 a week salary, and even terminate all 90 musicians for the 1949-50 season. In the end that is what happened, and the DSO folded, leaving the musician-run Little Symphony as the only orchestral concert group in Detroit. It's a great story about commitment to music, labor, and the city of Detroit. And on the last page of the article is a photo of a wind octet of the Little Symphony of Detroit, giving all the musician's names including a Gerald Schoen, bassoon.

The bassoonist in both photos is clearly the same man. Though there is a possibility that the man in the passport could have changed his instrument and the spelling of his name, it seems very unlikely. So I believe the gentleman with the contrabassoon is Gerald Schoen, though when I get confirmation I will update this. And if indeed Gerold Schon was a cellist with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, the personal manager must have struggled to keep the names right on the paychecks.

UPDATE: 30 NOV 2011

I've received some information from the archivist of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra that confirms that Gerald Schon was indeed the contra-bassoonist in the photo. The other bassoonists were: Leonard Sharrow, principal bassoon, William Kruse, and Hugh Cooper. Mr. Schon seems to have spelled his name Schon and not Schoen. He was also listed in the DSO musician roster for the 1927-28 season as G. Schon. But what makes for more confusion is that in that season there was also a G. Schon in the cello section, undoubtedly the Gerold Schon who played with the Marine Band, and a J. Schon also in the bassoon section. Now who was HE related to? Gerold or Gerald?

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whose theme this weekend was a 1930's Chevrolet.

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The USS Florida and USS Arkansas Navy Bands

2011-11-11T12:18:00.001-05:00

Today, 11 November, 2011 is Veterans Day, once known as Armistice Day in commemoration of the end of the Great War of 1914-18. So it seems appropriate to honor veterans with a couple of vintage photo postcards of military musicians. This photo of a U.S. Navy band from the battleship USS Florida (BB-30) dates from the relatively peaceful period between WWI and WWII. Standing in front of one of the great 12-inch guns, the 16 bandsmen, to judge by the bright white uniforms, are in very warm sunshine.

The card was sent to Miss Mary Kobinsky of Middletown, Conn. in March, 1921 with a note that would still be current for a sailor today.

Dear Mary

Droping you a few lines to let you know that I am well and happy, hoping you're the same. I was thinking of droping you a letter sometime ago, but it's so hot down here in Guantanabo (sic) Bay that a feller looses all his Ambition, will get leave soon. Chas.

P.S. Remember me to all.

But what makes this band photo a unique historical image is the complexion of the navy bandsman standing on the left holding a clarinet. Despite some efforts to end discrimination and improve civil rights, America remained a very segregated society after the First World War, and the Navy during this period had very few black servicemen. This came from a policy of exclusion of black personnel based on a reasoning that segregation on board a ship was impractical. According to one history of the Integration of the Armed Forces, by 1940 the Navy had only 4,007 black personnel,or 2.3 percent of its nearly 170,000-man total, and almost all were employed as stewards. So it is exceptional to see this dark skinned clarinetist as a member of the band.

The USS Florida was one of two 21,825-ton battleships commissioned before WWI in 1911. She served mostly in the western Atlantic and Caribbean, but was decommissioned and scrappedat the Philadelphia Navy Yard in 1931. The sender of this postcard, postmarked 1913, remarks on the compliment of 200 sailors aboard her.

The first postcard came with a companion card showing another navy band, this time from the battleship USS Arkansas (BB-33). This larger band of 22 bandsmen, who seem to be out in bright sunlight again, has three men of color in the center: one clarinet, one euphonium, and one whose instrument is hidden. It is very difficult to judge ethnicity in sepia photographs, and it's possible that some of the bandsmen are of Asian origin, perhaps of Filipino heritage. But the euphonium player looks distinctly dark and of very African descent. Again this is a very unusual mixture for a navy band of this period.

In 1948 President Harry S. Truman signed Executive Order 9981 integrating the military, though the end of discrimination and segregation of all units throughout the US Armed Forces still took many more years. Of course today's navy bands do not discriminate on race or for that matter, on gender either. For a photo of a black bandsman from before WWI look at my post on US Navy bandsmen 1914.

The USS Arkansas was a 26,000 ton Wyoming class battleship and like the Florida was commisioned before WWI in 1912. She was part of the Atlantic fleet and after the war was a training ship for navy midshipmen. After being refitted she saw service in WWII, participating in the Normandy invasion and later after joining the Pacific fleet, helping in the assaults on Iwo Jima, and Okinawa. This postcard is from the 1920's era.

The second band card was postmarked February 1922 and addressed to Mr. Edward Svihovec of Deep River, Conn. The message is short like a cell phone text message.

Dear Folks,

Few lines to let let you know that I've read your letter and to cut this story short will say good night and write later.

Your son, Chas

Just a bit longer than the emails I get from my own son.

The handwriting of the name - Svihovec - created a real puzzle, as the letters did not immediately make sense. But eventually I found the service record for Charles F. Svihovec (1903-1976) who served in the Navy from 1921 to 1925. Charles was the second son of Edward Svihovec who immigrated from Bohemia with his family in 1911. Charles returned to Connecticut after his tour and married not Mary but Helen, making a career in the State Highway Department.

I have no way to determine if Charles was a musician in these bands, as his service record did not include his rating. The cards may have been just souvenir cards available through the ship's post office. But in the 1920 census for Deep River, CN, Charles is living with his parents and two siblings. His father Edward Svihovec's occupation was listed as polisher, Piano Factory, and Charles and his older brother Edward also worked for the Piano Factory.

This was likely the Pratt-Read Player Action Co. which had a factory making piano keyboard actions and player pianos in Deep River. The adjacent town of Ivoryton, Conn. also had a long industrial history making combs, buttons, toothpicks, billiard balls, and other items out of ivory, including piano keyboards. Here is the Wikepedia image showing the Ivoryton keyboard factory.

My guess is that in 1911, any Bohemian immigrant with machine skills would likely have had musical skills too. And if Edward played a brass instrument in the factory band, certainly his son, Charles would learn a musical instrument too. And what 18 year old wouldn't pass up an opportunity to see the world and play music on the deck of two battleships. If only he had thought to make an X over his sailor cap in the photos.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

which is a weekly meme which encourages bloggers to publish and share old images and photographs. This weekend it is celebrates its 100th post anniversary.

Stoelzer & Blodeck, the Mozart Symphony Club Part 2

2011-11-05T13:45:00.000-04:00

We have met these two musicians before. They were introduced here last December as Stoelzer and Blodeck or more properly Richard Stoelzer and Mario Blodeck of New York City. They toured the country as performers on two unusual string instruments of the baroque and renaissance, the Viola d'amore and the Viol da gamba in a group called the Mozart Symphony Club.

Stoelzer (1864 - 1947) was the leader of this small chamber music ensemble of 4 to 8 musicians which played all over America and Canada from around 1891 to 1905. The Richard Stoelzer Collection at the Adelphi University Library in Garden City, New York has more on his biography, but he and Blodeck serve as two examples of the many immigrant German musicians who helped to develop classical and orchestral music in late 19th century America.

This cabinet card photograph is a recent discovery which I acquired after the first photo, which is its obvious companion. The photographer was George Schmitt of Cincinnati, Ohio who is cited in Artists in Ohio working from 1893-1895.

His use of the German word Fotografer is no surprise when you go through a 1888 Cincinnati city directory and find page after page of Schmid, Schmidt, Schmit, and Schmitt in what was arguably the most Germanic of American cities. In 1888, the only photographer listed for 56/58 West 5th St. was named E.B. Core, so perhaps George Schmitt worked there and then took it over, but he had a lot of competition as there were over 11 photographers on 5th St. alone and 6 more on 4th St.

The Mozart Symphony Club played from New York to Toronto to Seattle to Jacksonville, FL to Charleston, SC and seemingly everywhere in between. The University of Iowa has an online exhibit of Traveling Culture - the Circuit Chautauqua which describes the hundreds of different artistic and musical groups that toured America from the late 1800's through the 1920's.

In this collection I found a promotional brochure of the Mozart Symphony Club from their 11th season, 1901-02 which describes Stoelzer, Blodeck and two other musicians, Miss Marie Stori a violinist and soprano; and Theodore Hoch, a virtuoso on the cornet and alpine echo horn.

This image from the back of that brochure shows how the group emphasized novelty but no doubt in a serious and educational manner. In addition to the viola d'amore and viol da gamba, the quartet displays the alpine echo horn with its two bells, a herald trumpet, a lute type instrument, and a violin, viola and cello. Though Stoelzer and Blodeck were demonstrating instruments that came from previous centuries, their repertoire was arrangements of 19th century opera tunes and light classics and not at all representative of the music originally played on these instruments. Nonetheless they brought a very unique and unusual ensemble to many cities and towns that had very limited exposure to quality chamber music performances.

The modern Early Music movement is usually credited to the British instrument maker Arnold Dolmetsch (1858 - 1940) who popularized music from the 18th, 17th and earlier centuries by setting up his own workshop to make harpsichords, lutes, and recorders. But his efforts were in the first decades of the 20th century, so it's possible that Stoelzer and Blodeck were the first musicians to reproduce early string instruments that had otherwise been left out of the modern orchestra. Despite their non-historical repertoire, they still deserve to be recognized for promoting the distinctive sounds of these forgotten instruments.

Here are some media examples of the instruments Stoelzer and Blodeck played. First the sound of the viola d'amore as played on this YouTube video by Thomas Georgi who bears a remarkable resemblance to Richard Stoelzer. The video shows the upper playing strings and lower sympathetic strings that are under the fingerboard.

The viol da gamba was made in different sizes from treble to bass, similar to the violin string family but it was played da gamba - between the legs. A consort of viols was the precursor to the string quartet and from the Renaissance to the Baroque period it was the standard bowed string instrument of musical ensembles. Mario Blodeck had a wonderfully decorated viol with inlay and carved figurehead on the pegbox, but his instrument left off the most important feature of viols - the frets. These were made of gut tied around the fingerboard. Presumably Blodeck, as a cellist, preferred using modern cello technique and kept his viol like Stoelzer's viola without frets. I found a great video on YouTube which explains the difference between the cello and viol da gamba. The musician is Craig Trompeter from the Chicago early music ensemble The Baroque Band.

This week on Sepia Saturday the theme is an antique photo of the Lighthouse Workers' String Band from Måholmen, Sweden. You'll have to click the link to see the full photo and links to other enthusiasts of vintage photographs, but here is a clip of one of the musicians. His instrument is not an ordinary violin but a Norwegian instrument called a Hardanger Fiddle . Norway was actually part of Sweden for much of the 19th century until it gained independance in 1905. The Hardanger fiddle is similar to the viola d'amore in having extra sympathetic strings that run under the finger board. Like the viol, it is also ornately decorated in a Scandinavian style with inlay and sometimes carved figureheads, as seen in this image from the Wikipedia entry.

It continues to be played in folk ensembles and can be played at a virtuoso level. I found this stylish video on YouTube of a solo Hardanger Fiddle or Hardingfele played by Sindre Vatnehol. With the same concept of tuned sympathetic strings that resonate to the melodies and chords played on the upper strings, the sound is very similar to the viola d'amore.

A Belgian Horn Player

2011-10-29T14:13:00.002-04:00

Military bands have always been a popular subject for postcards, but images of individual bandsmen are less common. This postcard from 1908(?) shows a horn player from an Infantry Band of Belgium. The card has been colorized, presumably in the correct blue and red hues for his uniform, and was undoubtedly part of a series of bandsmen cards printed by Dr. Trenkler Co. Bruxelles. Note his sword hilt visible just at his back. Curiously, his horn has no mouthpiece.

His instrument is a piston valve horn, which was the design commonly found in France and Britain during this era. Germanic countries favored horns with rotary valves and that style has become the standard for the modern instrument. But the piston valve horn was equally popular, especially for military bands. The older natural horn or hand horn which uses no valves, was still common in France up to the end of the 20th century. Compare him to two other army horn players who used piston valve horns - Adolf Adel from 1896, and the West Kent Bandsman from 1914-18.

The card was sent from Welkenraedt in Belgium's eastern Walloon region to a Captain Felix de Prat in Leganés, Spain. The simple signature with the number 65 is not clear to me, but I'd like to think there might be some significance in the choice of a bandsman postcard. Perhaps Felix was a horn player too.

The geography of Europe made the small country of Belgium the crossroads to many conflicts, including both World Wars. But an even smaller country is Luxembourg, which is nestled just between Belgium, France and Germany. Officially known as the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, like Belgium it is also a constitutional monarchy, and equally proud of its military band traditions. This circa 1905-10 photo postcard shows the Luxembourg Military Band posed with their instruments in a formal but relaxed manner. Their uniforms look similar to the Belgian bandsman, but without the shako plumes which would have distracted. There are 5 piston valve horns, showing the way the instrument's crook can be turned allowing the horn to rest easily on the ground. The crook is a removable coil of tubing and comes in different sizes to change the key of the horn, which are usually in F but E flat was also common.

But because Luxembourg is so small, there is actually only one Luxembourg Military Band whose musical traditions continue today. The website for the Luxembourg Army History even gives a roster of the bandmasters.

Fernand Mertens
(1872-1957) served as bandleader from 1909 to 1937, and I believe he is seated in the center of the band, either the officer with sword or just to the left. This illustration from 1925 comes by way of Wikipedia and shows Mertens with his predecessors. He was also Belgian, and composed a number of marches for band and a few operettas.

For contrast here is the U.S. Marine Band from the same period before the Great War. It is arguable which band has the greater proportion of mustaches. This postcard has the more typical formal pose for military bands and shows 8 horns in a line. All appear to have rotary valves except for possibly a piston valve (1st L) and even one without valves (3rd L). This would likely indicate the country of the bandsman's musical training, as the band took on musicians from many different cultural backgrounds.

Standing in the center is William H. Santelmann (1863-1932) who served as bandleader from 1898 to 1927. He was one of many German musicians who immigrated to America and found employment in the Marine Band. His son, William F. Santelmann, continued in his father's tradition and served as director of the Marine Band from 1940 to 1955.

Find more enthusiasts of vintage photographs at Sepia Saturday

Postcards of German Ladies Orchestras

2011-10-21T16:13:00.000-04:00

The photo record of women brass players in 19th and early 20th century America shows that women performed in community bands, professional orchestras, and even in vaudeville acts. But with rare exception, these were segregated groups exclusively for women. But the roots of female musicians in brass and wind bands goes back to the old country, specifically the musical traditions of Austria and Germany. And in these ensembles, women are often shown as equal performers with men.

This first promotional postcard is of Herm. Brandt's Damen-Trompeter-Corps und Streich-Orchester or Herman Brandt's Ladies Trumpeter Corps and String Orchestra. Herman is clearly the bandleader seated in the center, and three men are in the back row with flute, clarinet, and tuba. In the middle row are 4 young ladies playing herald trumpets, a popular instrument in German bands. This style trumpet has no valves and is played like a bugle with a limited set of notes. Seated in the front are 4 more ladies, one with a cornet and three wearing helicons. Two are the smaller tenor helicons very like the one shown in the photos of my recent post on the Vaudeville Girl.

This second postcard of H. Brandt's Demen-Streich und Blas-Orchester shows 4 men with 10 women, 8 playing brass instruments. Herman now stands in the center back row playing a cornet, just behind a woman holding a baton. One could assume that Frau Brandt is conducting but of course it may not be his wife. Maybe his sister. Since they were called a string orchestra too, they must have been very adept at switching to violins, cellos, and basses.

The card was sent from Wien - Vienna, Austria on July 4th, 1900, but Herr Brandt's orchestra probably didn't perform in honor of America's Independence Day, perhaps instead they celebrated the marriage on July 1st, 1900 in Reichstadt, Bohemia of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the Crown Prince of Austria-Hungary to Sophie Chotek von Chotkova.

This genre of the Damen Blas Orchester or Women's Wind Band was a very popular ensemble in Central Europe to judge by the great number of damen musiker photo cards from this era. As with most ladies bands, there was usually a man acting as the band leader, but unlike the American bands, these German and Austro-Hungarian ensembles frequently had men as supporting musicians. These small bands were advertised as women's musical groups so that was certainly part of their novelty, but how much equality was present is hard to say. Until only a few years ago, women musicians in Central Europe had continued to struggle against the gender barrier, but are now finally accepted in major orchestras.

I tried to find on YouTube some contemporary examples of the music one might have heard played by one of these bands. There are thousands of examples but unfortunately very few with women brass players. But I found one from an Austrian Television Show with a woman on tuba, though in a smaller group.

The music repertoire for these bands was undoubtedly a mixture of popular songs and dances from the many different Germanic regional cultures. It's important to remember that in this period the unification of Germany had a different meaning, Prussia had only recently brought together the various German states and principalities into a confederation in the 1860's, and after the Franco-Prussian War of 1871, Germany stretched from Alsace in the west, in what is now France, to central Poland in the east. And Austria was not the small land-locked country of today, but a vast multilingual empire that included Hungarian, Czech, Bohemian, and Slavic people as well as German speaking Austrians. Music was the common thread weaving all these cultures together and songs and dance music crossed borders more freely than any other art form. It's interesting to think that some of these German and Austrian women may have emigrated to the United States and contributed to American music culture.

This postcard shows a smaller band called the Damen-Trompeter-Corps "Diana" with O. Iboldt, the director in the center back row. The Prussian style mustache figures prominently in all these bands. Here three men stand behind five women dressed in more ethnic style costumes. They all have rotary valve brass instruments, including a helicon on the lower left. It was postmarked 7 August 1908 from Berlin.

Another card dated from 1908 shows the Damen-Blas-Orchester "Tannhäuser", director Jos. Brunet, in a band of 5 men and 6 women. Note the herald trumpets in the foreground. Many of the groups have these nicknames, which may be a kind of marketing gimmick by the booking agents as a way of distinguishing the different ladies bands.

The Damen-Trumpeter-Corps "Stefanie", director H. Förste, sport nautical costumes to go with their brass instruments, but only for the women. Curiously, in contrast to the women's dress, all the men in these bands are in ordinary business suits. In this postcard from 1909, seven women and four men make up the musical group. Again note the herald trumpets and mustache. Herr Förste holds a role of music, usually a symbol of a pianist.

Here is another YouTube video of a traditional Austrian brass band playing a polka. There is only one woman, but their brass instruments are very similar to the rotary valve instruments in these early bands. They have some great closeup shots of a helicon player.

The bands may have played music hall theaters similar to American vaudeville, but I suspect they played more for large restaurants and outdoor beer gardens. Beer has always been a staple food of brass players. The larger bands may have marched inside the larger Oktoberfest style tent shows, but probably not in parades. These ladies don't look dressed for that.

This last group, the Janietz Elite Damen Blas Orchester must have been very popular as they produced many different photo cards including some more expensively colored ones. I will have to devote a future post just for them. This large ensemble of ten women and seven men added more instruments including saxophones of various sizes and some exotic percussion instruments. The glockenspiel in the center is a feature common in a many German band photos of this period. Note also that there are two women horn players seated on the right.

Instead of herald trumpets they have four very long trumpets, something like a brass alphorn with valves. I can't believe they were played without assistance to hold them up unless, like alphorns, the bells rested on the floor. But perhaps the most novel part of this group are the costumes. The ladies are dressed in long Scottish kilts and tam o'shanters. I recently read a biography of Kaiser Wilhelm II, which described his lifelong love of all things English by virtue of his English mother, Princess Victoria, eldest daughter of Queen Victoria. I can understand how royal influence changed musical entertainments, just look at the mustaches, but how Scotland got pulled into the German Ladies Brass Bands is a mystery lost in translation. And why the women are wearing a Sporran which is man's item of utility is also a mystery best left alone.

I finish with one more YouTube video which best demonstrates how these women brass players might have sounded, in this case on solo trombone. There's a joke in the middle if you are patient.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

Click the link to find more enthusiasts of vintage photographs.

Three Kansas City Vaudeville Musicians

2011-10-15T18:49:00.001-04:00

Today I present a very special photograph. Perhaps more than any other photo in my collection, this lady has inspired my pursuit of images of early musicians and the history behind their careers. I do not know her name, and in fact I know more about who she is not, which I will have to explain at another time. Even so, I have given her the name Florida and she is holding a horn, a single horn in F for those of you who need to know these details. She is wearing a rather stylish costume that has a certain theatrical or even ethnic quality. Her pose in this large format studio photograph shows only the most simple of backdrops with a faint painted landscape in the background.

What makes Florida a remarkable image from the first decades of the 20th century, is that this portrait shows a young woman as a professional horn player. Today this is not at all exceptional, as women play all kinds of brass instruments in orchestras, operas, and bands. But not too many years ago, the world of professional music was very much an exclusive club for men. It was only in certain theatrical groups, or in small bands and orchestras organized by women, that they could make a livelihood. Most of these groups used string instruments or common band instruments, but a photo of a lady horn player is a uniquely rare item.

In the lower left corner above her shoes, (compare them to those of The Vaudeville Girl ) is the photographer's logo. Bert's K.C. which stands for the studio of Burdette Emery Wetherwax which was located at 127 W. 12th St., Kansas City, Missouri. This was also the address for the Gayety Theater.

Bert's specialty was the theater world and there were easily over twenty other theaters in Kansas City's theater district. Vaudeville and burlesque as well as the early films created a major mid-west hub in Kansas City for the traveling entertainment industry in America. And of course, the connection to America's rail network was important too.

The photos marked Bert K.C. that I have found on internet archives include promotional pictures of ballet dancers, chorus girls, actors, jazz bands, and musicians. He may have even taken the photo for this postcard of the Gayety Theater Building.

The Gayety theater was opened in 1909 as described in this report in from the Kansas City Journal:

November 3, 1909
NEW THEATER OPENS SUNDAY.

Musical Comedy, Vaudeville With
Burlesque Tinge at the Gayety.

The new Gayety theater will open Sunday afternoon with a matinee by the "College Girls" Company. The house is to be devoted to musical comedy and vaudeville with a burlesque tinge. It is owned by the Kansas City Theater Company of New York and will be managed by Thomas Hodgeman, the present manager of the Majestic theater.

The new theater is at Twelfth and Wyandotte streets and has several innovations. The dressing rooms are all outside the theater proper. On the Twelfth street and Wyandotte street sides business houses will occupy the fronts with the exception of the main entrance on Wyandotte street. The theater is surrounded on four sides by open spaces, which provide four exits from the ground floor and two each from the other two floors, in addition to two emergency exits from each of the top floors.

The interior is finished in "art noveau," the colors being gold and yellow. With the exception of the chairs the theater is entirely fireproof. It will have a seating capacity of 1,650. There are three floors, with 550 chairs on the orchestra floor, 400 on the balcony floor, 600 on the gallery floor and 100 in the twelve boxes. The stage will be protected by an ornamental asbestos curtain.

The auditorium of the theater is 72 by 108 feet, of which 40 by 70 feet is taken up by the stage. Inclines instead of stairs will be used to gain access to the first two floors.

The exterior lights were novel enough to make the pages of the 1916 Electrical Review and Western Electrician. Any theater with 1650 seats that still needed a 75 foot tower with 3226 light bulbs to stand out, was competing in a big way for the public's attention.

Bert Wetherwax was born in Beatrice, Nebraska in 1882. In the 1910 census he was working in Kansas City as a traveling salesman for photographic supplies. He had a wife, Margaret and an infant daughter. His studio was first listed in the Kansas City directory in 1915 and continued through the early 1940's.

The vast archives of the internet revealed a marriage license from 1921, when at age 40, Bert remarried to Bessie M. Daily age 24. His death certificate also came up, showing his death in 1945 at age 62, survived by his widow, Lucile age 48. Interestingly he was also listed on the death certificate as a veteran of the Spanish-American War, though he would then have been only 16 years old. Unfortunately I was unable to find any corroborating military records.

But this is only so much trivia that did not really help to answer my real question: What was Florida's real name?

Meet Carolina, another vaudeville lady musician who posed for Bert's camera. Again there are no clues except they are both pieces of a bigger puzzle. Carolina holds a cornet and bears a resemblance to The Vaudeville Girl , but she is not the same girl I think. She also wears a kind of theatrical dress with a rather daring exposure of shoulder. Like Florida and the Vaudeville Girl, she has sensible shoes under a similar hemline. Note the fancy engraving on her cornet.

I found this report in the same archive of the Kansas City Journal.

January 23, 1910
A YIDDISH THEATER HERE.

First Playhouse of This Character
to Be Opened Here Tonight.

Kansas City's first Yiddish theater will be opened tonight in the Hippodrome annex, Twelfth and Charlotte streets. Manager Jacobs has fitted up a snug home for Yiddish drama here, the annex being cut off entirely from the Hippodrome proper by an outside entrance, though there is, of course, an entrance from the inside as well. M. B. Samuylow, who was seen here at the Shubert this season, will head a strong Yiddish company playing "Kol Nidre," a four-act opera with book by Charansky and music by Friedsel. Other Yiddish companies will be seen here from time to time and it is hoped to make the Hippodrome Annex theater the home of permanent Yiddish attractions, as there is a large clientele from which to draw.

Though it is impossible to identify Carolina's background, the inclusion of Yiddish theater in Kansas City certainly attracted an influence from New York's Broadway theater circuit.
Carolina has more the look of a vaudeville performer than just a girl who played cornet in a town band.

But Bert knew ladies bands too. In this large format photo, the lady is not unknown. Her name is Lucy M. Biehl, one of daughters of the Biehl Family Orchestra . Lucy is holding a tenor saxophone and is dressed in a fine white uniform with a military-like fur shako. (Again compare her hat to The Vaudeville Girl ) And her photo, like Florida's and Carolina's, is also marked Bert's K.C.

The Biehl family orchestra started in Davenport, Iowa but in 1920 they lived in Kansas City where they listed their occupation as musicians, show business. Of the three sisters, Lucy, Leona, and Grace Biehl, Lucy was the oldest born in 1883 and played clarinet and no doubt doubled on saxophone. If this photo was taken around 1920 she would be about 37. The family toured with a tent show, a kind of musical variety and dramatic show that played small towns in the mid-west, but was still very much a part of the vaudeville style. Here Lucy Biehl is dressed either in her family's showband uniform or perhaps a costume from some larger musical theater revuew.

But who was Florida? I have not found her musical show yet, and I may never know for sure, but I did find this all girl musical group from 1926, The Spanish Orchestra produced by the Redpath Bureau, a large artist agency for the Chautauqua circuit.

The Chautauqua events were intended to be bring refined class and artistic acts to the public in performances that would educate as well as entertain. But many of these groups played the regular vaudeville theaters too. Could Florida have been a horn player in the Spanish Orchestra?

My contribution to Sepia Saturday.

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The Great Weber & The De Rue Brothers Minstrels

2011-10-07T21:41:00.004-04:00

In a continuation of last week's vaudeville theme, I introduce to you "The Great Weber", a most unique and startling musician, whose like you may never have seen before - a cross-dressing, singing mellophone player.

At the beginning of the 20th century, every community in America that was large enough to have a train station, would have at least one, if not two or three theaters devoted to the traveling artistes of the vaudeville variety circuit. These acts toured the country offering every style of music, comedy, melodrama, illusion, and athletic stunt to a public eager for entertainment, and willing to pay good money for it.

"The Great Weber" is a wonderful example of the novelty act. As you can see in this promotional photo postcard he was One Person but Nine Characters - at least. He sang, performed on both the violin and mellophone, and to make it worth watching, he dressed in women's clothing.

Female impersonators, and for that matter male impersonators too, have been part of the theater since Shakespeare's time. In this era there was no real dividing line between the early vaudeville acts, music hall shows, circus and carnival performers, and burlesque reviews. It was all showbiz. They each had cycles of popularity and varied levels of sophistication - from classic opera to lowbrow humor. But risque titillation could always sell tickets.

This illustration came from the October 26, 1910 Evening News in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan and shows The Great Weber - impersonator, soloist, duetist, and musician dressed as both a woman and a man. He was finishing a run at the Dreamland Theater and was described as "one of the best singers to play any vaudeville house." No comment on his playing the mellophone or violin.

On the back of the card is a note from the Great Weber to his friend, Mr. Benny G. Van of Rochester, NY. He writes from Janesville, Wisconsin that he is still on the road and living with his brother and sister in Chicago. Benny is Benjamin G. Van or Van Olinde in later census records. His father, George W. Van was a "showman traveler" and in 1910 Benny was a "theatrical manager", but his circuit was described in one eBay auction reference as the carnival side shows displaying freaks or "Big Lady Minstrel Shows". Interestingly in 1900 at age 25, Benny's employment in the census was listed as "cripple."

Infuriatingly, because Benny G. knows him, The Great Weber signs only his stage name. Though he does leave an address, 7710 Emerald Ave. in Chicago, despite a very deep search of census records, city directories, etc. I could not find his brother and sister, or a full name for the Great Weber. And was Weber even his real surname? It is one of the more common names in America and certainly Chicago, and it to make it more difficult, an internet search for "Great Weber" includes thousands of hits for: "great Weber & Fields" vaudeville comic act, "great Weber Duck Farms" c. 1910-20, and "great Weber gas grill".

Still there were just enough hits in the newspaper archives to date the Great Weber from around 1910 to 1921, and everywhere from Michigan to Iowa to New York. By chance though, I found his act listed under the headline of another group whose photo postcard is also in my collection.

The De Rue Bro's Minstrels and Concert Band shown in this promotional card, were in the genre of minstrel shows. This card was never mailed so there were limited clues, but research revealed that they were popular from around 1910 to around 1925. Billy De Rue, "That Talkative Man" and his brother Bobby De Rue "A Satan for the Blues" traveled with a 22 man ensemble that probably played a hybrid version of the old comic minstrel show combined with military band music. I'm unsure if they performed in the traditional black-face. Note that beneath their top hats and long coats they are wearing army leggings. My guess is that Bobby is on the front right holding a cornet and wearing a cap. Which bandsman looks most talkative?

They included The Great Weber in March 1919 for an engagement in Olean, NY. It included the Leahy Bros., the Golden City Vocal Quartette, and Kelda the Human Frog. Guaranteed the best minstrel show ever here.

These musical acts were part of an elaborate industry which included a complex network of theatrical agents and theaters. It was also driven by a competitive industry of New York music publishers and song writers in Tin Pan Alley. These shows were the predecessors of silent movies that would eventually take over the public's attention and ultimately lead to the "talkies" and finally television shows.

This may be all the history ever written about The Great Weber, but it isn't enough to just look at his photo. What might his act have sounded like? I may have an idea.

One of the most popular vaudeville singers of this era was Eva Tanguay (1879 - 1947) shown here in a photo from the New York Public Library Archive. She was famous for her lavish costumes and extravagant lifestyle. An article on Slate.com, Vanishing Act describes, Tanguay as the first mass media celebrity - a rock star. She became one of the most highly paid music hall artists of her time and her songs were all the rage in the America of 1900-10.

The song I Don't Care was written in 1905 and Torguay recorded it in 1922. I'm willing to bet that The Great Weber sang it too. And
I'll bet his costume trunk was every bit as heavy as Eva's.

I Don't Care
Lyrics from Musicals101.com

Verse 1
They say I'm crazy, got no sense,
But I don't care.
They may or may not mean offence,
But I don't care;
You see I'm sort of independent,
Of a clever race descendent,
My star is on the ascendant,
That's why I don't care.
Chorus 1
I don't care,
I don't care,
What they may think of me.
I'm happy go lucky,
Men say I am plucky,
So jolly and care free.
I don't care,
I don't care,
If I do get the mean and stony stare.
If I'm never successful,
It won't be distressful,
'Cos I don't care.
Verse 2
Some people say I think I'm it,
But I don't care,
They say they don't like me a bit,
But I don't care;
'Cos my good nature effervescing,
Is one, there is no distressing,
My spirit there is no oppressing,
Just 'cos I don't care.
Chorus 2
I don't care,
I don't care,
If people don't like me,
I'll try to outlive it,
I know I'll forgive it,
And live contentedly.
I don't care,
I don't care,
If people do not try to treat me fair.
There is naught can amaze me,
Dislike cannot daze me,
'Cos I don't care.

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A Vaudeville Girl

2011-10-01T00:08:00.001-04:00

By itself this photo might seem to be just another pleasant portrait, circa 1915, of a young woman seated at a piano and holding a cornet. She looks almost like a model for a music store advertisement displaying a piano, a violin, a cornet, and a very curious instrument - a tenor helicon. Not a typical American band instrument.

It was taken by DeHaven, Chicago. Located only a block from Grant Park on the 5th floor of 144 Wabash Ave. and overlooking the El - the elevated train tracks, the photographer was right in the heart of Chicago. But the names for the DeHaven Studio photographers were actually David Hyman Bloom, and younger brother Samuel Bloom. Born in 1891 and 1894 respectively, they arrived in America in 1908 as part of the wave of Jewish immigrants from Russia. The two Bloom brothers and sister Beatrice ran the DeHaven photo studio from perhaps 1915 through 1930.

But this is not a solitary photo, there is more.

Seated at a piano, with cornet, violin, tenor helicon, and also a trombone. this photo shows another young woman with stylish hair, wearing a more theatrical dress, showing some ankle, but posed in the exact same way. But this photograph is marked Apeda, N.Y.

The cornet is held at the same forward angle in both photos making it impossible to compare the instruments. The violin might be the same but really all violins look the same in sepiatone. The upright pianos are different. The oak grain piano case in the Chicago photo is replaced in the New York photo with a darker case with carved medallion on the front. Though the feet on the piano stool are the same, piano stools probably had a standard form everywhere. What is unusual is that the obscure instrument, the tenor helicon, is identical in both photos.

A tenor helicon is about the same length and pitch as a trombone. The musician wears it over the left shoulder much as a bass helicon or sousaphone is played. It was probably designed for use in mounted cavalry bands where the player's right hand could press the valve keys and the left hand could hold the horse reins. Though not a popular instrument for a young American woman, it was played by some women in German and Austrian Damen Orchester, musical stage ensembles for women which flourished in the early 1900's in Europe.

Here are closeups of both women.

Comparing the eyes and especially the dimple, I believe they are pictures of the same woman.

Apeda Studios was a major photography business active in New York City from 1910 to the 1930's and they produced many promotional photographs for the Broadway theaters and the early screen artists. You can find more glamor pictures of early 20th century celebrities of stage and cinema at this link: Apeda Studio NY

But wait there's more.

This photo, marked Guttenstein, Alhambra Theater Bldg, Milwaukee, though a bit over exposed, shows a lady musician holding a cornet and wearing an elaborately embroidered band uniform coat and dress with a military-like pillbox hat. The instrument's mouthpiece is pointed toward the camera, but its small shape makes this a cornet and not a trombone.

Now look at the eyes and the dimple. It is the same woman again just as in the first two photos. Her costume is too fancy for a town band, so it suggests she is a stage performer, perhaps in a vaudeville show or touring musical revue. Assuming she also also played the piano and violin, she must have been a very talented musician to be able to play such diverse instruments.

The Alhambra Theatre, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin was a large opulent palace to entertainment. Built in 1896, it had 3000 seats and 18 private boxes. Countless vaudeville acts, dramatic plays, and musical shows played the Alhambra on the tour circuit. And it was one of the first theaters showing movies. But though the films were silent, theaters like this were anything but quiet, as they always employed musicians in the orchestra pit to accompany the films and other acts.

Since theatrical people could be frequent customers of a skilled photographer, it made good business for Mr. Guttenstein to set up a studio in the theater itself. He may even have taken the picture for this 1909 postcard of the Alahambra Theatre.

But wait, there's even more!

Another photograph from the Apeda Studios in New York, this time of a girl playing a trombone while seated on a large pedestal. The photo is similar to those of other vaudeville and stage performers from 1915-1925. She wears a very fancy embroidered coat and dress, topped with a splendid fur capo complete with plume. Though the trombone mouthpiece partly covers her dimple, look at her eyes. It is the same girl again.

Unfortunately her identity will have to remain a mystery. The four photos came from the same dealer, but there are no names, no dates. Only good guesses.

But for further proof of my good guess on this young lady musician, look at the shoes in each photo. Different costumes, yes. But sensible shoes are always a good investment for any girl. These were well traveled shoes, too.

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Kun Arpad - A Violin Prodigy

2011-09-24T11:44:00.001-04:00

On April 26, 1901 a weekly newspaper in Utah, the The Coalville Times, carried the following telegraphic wire report on Kun Arpad, a young Hungarian violinist:

Seven-year Wonder

At one of the interesting "five o'clocks" of the enterprising Paris Figaro a little 7-year-old violin virtuoso from Hungary was on the program, who promises to be the musical sensation of the world for some time to come. There is only one objection to the youthful artist, and that is his very unmelodious name — Kun Arpad, which is not a nom de theater. Still, it has a familiar gypsy sound, not by any means as unpronounceable as Bjornstjerne Bjornson and the names of other men who have become famous despite their patronymics.

Kun Arpad is a juvenile virtuoso par excellence. His repertoire embraces some of the most classical pieces of renowned composers, and he plays with wonderful feeling. The musical critic of the Figaro says that during some of the pathetic selections there was not a dry eye in the audience. The little fellow seems transformed into a celestial being while playing, and when away from the stage and romping with his little companions he is as mundanely mischievous as any urchins of his age. He will make a tour of Europe and America with that excellent Viennese musician, Rodolphe Berger, who will accompany him on the piano. Kun Arpad's forte at the Figaro "five o'clock" was a "Romance," by Mendelssohn, and "Le Mouvement Perpetuille" of Paginini, which the little violinist executes with wonderful alacrity, not losing a note and beating time with his feet. I predict from what I have read in the Paris papers that Chicago will go wild over the diminutive chap during his season here.

SS Kronprinz Wilhelm

Coalville, Utah whose population in 1900 was 1252 citizens, was unlikely to play host to such a musical prodigy. But the editor obviously thought the local coal miners and farmers would want to keep up with the current fashions and celebrities making news in the rest of the world.

In fact the report on this young violinist playing an American concert tour was a bit premature, as Kun Arpad, accompanied by his mother and grandmother would not reach the US until June 1903. They arrived in New York on the SS Kronprinz Wilhelm from Cherbourg, and as Kun's concerts in France were less profitable than they had hoped, they traveled steerage class to save money.

Within days they had made the newspapers, but not in the way they may have planned. Kun's mother, Mrs. Maria Arpad had signed a contract with a promoter, named Siegmund B. Steinmann, to handle concerts of her son in return for a third of the proceeds. But when the man began to take the child away, she regretted her decision and tried to recover her son. This led to charges of kidnapping and stolen scrapbooks and then counter-charges of broken contracts, and undoubtedly created a small summer sensation in New York City's theater district. One imagines that there was some element of language miscommunication too.

By July 3rd, Kun and his mother had either changed managers or resolved the difficulties with Steinmann, and Arpad was booked to appear at Madison Square Garden in a summer variety show called Venice in New York for ten concerts at $100 a night. The attraction featured splashing fountains and cool gondola rides, as well as quaint folk songs, with mandolin and zither accompaniment .. encored nightly.

There were several theater "gardens" like this in the city, each in competition for new vaudeville acts. After advertising Madison Square Garden's cooler qualities, the headliner was Duss and his Incomparable Orchestra. But Duss already had a violin soloist, Mr. Nahan Franko (1861-1930).

Franko, a native of New Orleans had made his solo debut at New York's Steinway Hall years before at the age of 8, and then toured with the soprano Adelina Patti as a child violinist. After study in Europe, he returned to New York to take the position of concertmaster of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra in 1883. Playing in a cool theater in the opera's summer off-season must have been a nice change.

Before Kun could demonstrate his talent on the violin, the theater needed to attain a special permit for underage performers from the mayor's office. The plan was to suspend all smoking and drinking by the patrons for the short time that young Kun would be on stage. But the politics of New York in the 1900's were more complicated than Kun and his mother could ever imagine, and after his first appearance on July 3rd, further concerts were canceled.

Initially Mayor Seth Low granted the permit, but this was an era of intense struggle between labor and business interests, and one of the powerful forces in the city was the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, also known as the Gerry Society. Named after after one of its co-founders, Elbridge Thomas Gerry , this organization had been fighting for children's rights and establishing protective services in New York since 1874. One of their missions was to guard children from the immoral influences of theaters and other amusement activities. Kun Arpad, child violinist, now became a political pawn in a larger game.

On pressure from the Gerry Society, who protested that at Kun's first appearance the theater management failed to prevent smoking or drinking by the audience, Mayor Low revoked his permission. New York City had only recently been consolidated and Low, the former president of Columbia University, had won election in 1902 as mayor on a platform of fighting the corruption of Tammany Hall which had dominated Manhattan politics in the previous century.

The theater and Mrs. Arpad engaged yet another lawyer and on July 17 made an appeal to Mayor Low. Despite the best efforts of Kun and his mother pleading their case, the Mayor was unmoved and refused to renew his consent. In Boston, the Journal of Education said: "Why should one little boy be denied the privilege of working in a shop by day while another is allowed to work at night, work that is vastly more harmful?" A 9 year-old boy playing a violin was no match for the political machines at work here.

In August, Kun's name appeared again in the newspapers, but this time in the society section, where he was described as entertaining guests at a few house parties in Newport, Rhode Island, the fashionable address for New England's wealthy elite. Yet this must have seemed a dead end for the talented violinist and his ambitious parent, and by the following year 1904, Kun's name appears back in Europe in concert reports from Paris and London.

In the November 1905 edition of The Strad , a magazine for string musicians, was this brief mention:

Another young violinist has made his bow to a London audience, Kun Arpad by name, twelve years of age, who like von Reuter and Lionel Ovenden, is also a composer. One can only hope that the dual role will not be encouraged beyond the point of discovering which career he has the most talent for. At this age it is natural to find the executive ability ahead of composition, and he played the first movement of a Concerto of his own, and Wieniawski's "Airs Russes" with an excellent technique.

But every child prodigy eventually grows up, and by 1910 Kun's short pants had less appeal and he added a more adult title of composer to his promotional postcard.

By 1912 he is listed in the German Wer Ist ~ Who Is, (bottom of page 887) as living back in Budapest, no longer a Wunderkind.

But after that year the trail goes cold. Did Kun Arpad survive the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire? Did he serve in the Kaiser's army with the thousands of other young men in the Great War? Was his life cut short by the influenza epidemic of 1918? The second World War? The post-war communist period? I can find no answers.

The first decade of the 20th century saw many musicians from Europe trying to expand their careers in America. The free market of America's numerous concert halls offered opportunities for making money that were constrained in Europe by older conservative traditions. The number of young musical geniuses was also very competitive. Every generation seems to produce dozens of shooting stars trying to capture the public's attention. The story of Kun Arpad is an example of how challenging that could be.

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The Hornblower of Ripon

2011-09-17T16:57:00.001-04:00

With the invention of the small 35mm camera in the early 20th century, amateur photographers could now record the unusual and curious things they saw on holiday. No longer dependent on picture postcards, the camera equipped tourist could capture any image that seemed memorable or remarkable for the friends and family at home. Such a camera was taken to the market town of Ripon in North Yorkshire, England in the early 1930's by a German family on holiday. Somehow two strips of 9 negatives were preserved and I acquired them because they recorded a unique English heritage - the Horn-blower of Ripon.

Since the year 886, a Wakeman has kept watch over the city of Ripon, insuring the townspeople that there was someone on guard in the night. Every evening at 9:00 for the past 1125 years, the horn-blower has sounded his horn 4 times around the market cross at the Ripon market square.

The current Ripon Hornblower is Mr. George Pickles who took on this duty in 2004. Click the link for more history and photos of the present day hornblower.

In a delightful little book called Notes and Jottings from Animal Life by Frank Buckland, H.M. Inspector of Fisheries, published in 1882, the author describes a visit to Ripon in 1863 and gives a short history of the long duty of the Ripon Horn-blower entitled Curfew and Charter Horns, (page 123 ).

The other chapter titles include:
Christmas Day With My Monkeys; An Elephant in Albany St,;
London Birdcatchers; and Lord Bute's Beavers.

The sound of this horn is moderately loud but is only one pitch. It must have been difficult for the many wakemen over the centuries to resist adding some musical elements of rhythm or simple melody. Undoubtedly the sound for the townspeople is as reassuring as the toll of a church bell.

Quite a few postcards have been made of the horn-blowers over the many years. but I like these for their informal snapshot quality. They also preserve a period that would soon be disrupted by the horrific events of WW II.

I have not found any clue as to the date, but the lighting and regularity of the horn-blower's notes at 9, suggest that the season of the photographs is summer-time. The only evidence I have for a provenance is the seller's description of the estate as a German family on a world tour. Was Ripon at the start or end of their journey?

The other photographs were ~~likely taken in Ripon but I can not be certain~~. They seem to be of the same picturesque street showing some very ancient store and house fronts. Taken with a quality camera I think.
UPDATE: See the comments and compare this with the Google Streetview of the Shambles in York, England.

Could the family group strolling down the narrow lane be the German family on holiday?

And finally a view of the Ripon square as it is today. Unfortunately Google's StreetView camera did not swing past at 9:00 PM.

View Larger Map

And thanks to a sharp eye from Little Nell (see comments) the Shamble lane in York, England.

View Larger Map

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A Show Boat Band

2011-09-11T01:41:00.000-04:00

A shortfiction spun from

the image left on an old glass plate negative c.1895

"Gentlemen,over here, if you please," called the photographer as he wavedfrom the bluff. "I've just got to go back to my buggy to fetchanother plate and then we'll proceed with the exposure."

Thebandsmen began to make their way down the gangplank and onto theriver sand. It was still early and the mist from the river was justrising. Their uniforms had picked up a bit of it too. Off in thedistance, the Ohio embankment was just a line of gray haze.

"Whywe going up there Mr. Jim?" asked the young drummer.

"Causewe're going to see if an educated chicken can count to ten, ninny,"said the man. He looked at the boy's wide eyes and laughed. "TheMajor wants to get some photographs to print up for the next towns weplay downriver. It won't take a minute and then we'll march intotown, play some tunes, and see if we can pull in more folk fortoday's shows."

"Lastnight weren't so good was it? Don't think we sold half the rock candywe did last Friday."

"No,Emmett, it was a might poor crowd. Even the old rubes that showed upto gawk at the girls was half asleep by the second act." Theyfollowed the other men, some still half asleep and fumbling withtheir buttons, trying not to stumble on the gravel path. Atop thelevee they sat down on some logs next to a chandler's yard full ofbales, boxes, and timber.

Jimopened up his case and took out his cornet as the other musiciansbusied themselves putting their instruments together. Several startedto warm up their lips and horns in the damp morning air. "Hey,Mr. Jimmy, what we goan ta play first? I doan have many good reedsleft an I doan wanna waste em if we play just de marches," saidthe clarionetist.

"Well,Sal, I don't know. How bout we start with that Port Jefferson marchand then the new concert polka we picked up in Cincinnati. Maybe addsome old waltz tunes for the ladies, if any show up. Don't worry, Iwon't add the Zampa Overture this morning. Chances are we won't seemany people on a Monday," said Jim. He looked over the smallgroup and sighed. They sure were a jumble of odd fish. An Italianleft over from a traveling band that went bust in St. Louis; a coupleof Germans and a Czech looking for a change from factory work; anIrish boy from New York who played a nice tenor cor and could singand dance too. The usual assortment of fellows with passable musicalskills working the summer season on a show boat. The best playersplayed for the shows, the others helped set up the lights and stageand sometimes helped rig the boat.

Though calling it a boat was astretch. This floating opera house couldn't swim in the water anybetter than this log. For that they needed the Nancy B., thesmaller steam tugboat moored off the stern, to do the pushing andpulling. She also gave them the power for the electric lights too.The Great Empire City Floating Theater was 175 feet long and45 feet wide, and could fit near 800 people inside on a good night.But the season was nearly at an end now and crowds were leaner thanthey had been in May.

Hewatched as a man sporting a fine top hat picked his way up theembankment. "Morning, Major Price," said Jim. "Bit ofa chill today. Might have to fire up the boiler to heat the halltonight, don't want the girls catching cold."

"Youmay be right, Jim," said Price. "All that rain this lastweek, we need some kind of hook to fill the ticket box over the nextcouple of days." He looked over the band and frowned. "Youboys take good care of these new shakos. I don't want to see anyplumes flying away downriver." The Major kept a tight rein overhis troupe of actors and musicians. He'd run shows all along theOhio, the Cumberland, the Mississippi, and the Missouri. Playinglittle towns for a day and big cities for a week, it was a bit like amilitary campaign. He'd brought the photographer in this morning totake photos for his agents to use when they went on ahead to paperthe next port. His budget for printing was slim, but this littlefellow was eager and made a fair offer for several dozen prints. Hesure hoped he knew what he was doing.

"Major,how long do you think we'll stay on the south side of the river?"asked Jim. Most of the boys were from up north and didn't take wellto some of the southern sensibilities. A few years back, the EugeneRobinson Show came up from Memphis and got in a heap of troubletrying to fly the Stars and Bars up in Iowa. Couple of towns got soriled up, they forced the showboat to take it down and put up thered, white and blue. And he'd heard that one old black man even suedthe owner for $10,000 when they wouldn't sell him a reserved seat.Old wounds were still painful when you poked them with a sharp stick.Tonight they'd probably get lots of requests to play Dixie.

TheMajor looked out at the river. "I'm thinking we'll do a showtonight and then move a bit up river. On the other side." Hegave Jim a wink and a nod. "There's a G.A.R. encampment thatought to bring in some old vets and their families. We can do some ofthe patriotic plays and then add some light comedy. Too bad we lostthat juggler to the circus last week. We could use more variety. Butyou boys play some today and then get to practicing that new show.Needs an overture or two to fill out the time."

Jimsmiled and blew a few soft notes into his horn. It felt good to havethe Major's trust on the music. He'd ordered some new band books fromChicago last month and the boys could do a read-through later today."How's the new pilot doing on the Nancy B., Major?"

TheMajor shook his head. "Not too good. He didn't seem to know asmuch about shoals on this part of the river as he claimed. First hekept too close until he thought he saw a snag and then he'd run herway out to center. Upset my morning coffee snaking around like that.Sure wish we had Capt. Mrs. Leathers for this season"

TheMajor was referring to Mrs. Blanche Leathers who had piloted anothershowboat Price had run for a few years. She was as much an attractionas any of the acts in the show. People came to see the lady pilotmore than the troupe of performers. All proper and prim aroundpatrons, she could bellow orders like any navvy man and she surecould read a river. But she ended up missing her husband who wasrunning another big steamboat out of New Orleans, so she cut loose tojoin him on the southern routes.

"Gus,watch where you spit that chaw!" Jim shouted. "That bassdrum don't need any more spots." The big German smiled through amustache stained a bit darker than his natural hair color. He didn'tknow much music but he had a good ear for keeping the band on thebeat. Mostly he did all the heavy lifting for the barge crew. Jimturned around and growled, "Emmett would you kindly cut out thatracket?"

"Yes,Mr. Jim," said the boy and put his drumsticks back into hisbelt. The photographer waved at them again and motioned over towardshis tripod.

"Gentlemen,if you could all sit round here and that ways I'll get the EmpireCity into the background." He quickly ducked under the camera'scloth cape. "Now those in the front just look towards me, andthe rest set your gaze off that a ways."

"Why'she doing that Mr. Jim?" whispered the boy.

"Talkingto the chicken inside, I guess. Hush and keep quiet now."

"Allvery good. Hold your position if you please. Hold. And hold ... andthank you very much." He pulled the negative tray out andtucked it under his coat.

Justthen came a heavy blast from the tugboat whistle. Dockhands along thepier began to yell. The mate standing atop the Empire City beganflailing the ship's bell. Emmett pointed into the haze. "There'sa steamboat headed right for the Empire City!" he shouted.

"Blastmy eyes," said Major Price. "She's moving way too fast tostop. She's going to hit us! What's that idiot pilot think he'sdoing?" They couldn't get a clear sight of the pilothouse in themist but they could hear its bell clattering now too. The whistle onthe Nancy B. howled in return. Some of the deckmates had leapt intothe river. Several of the actors were rushing from their cabins alongthe second deck and racing to the stern.

Thenthey saw a remarkable sight. Down at the water's edge was Gus. He hadhold of an oar from one the lighters used to restock provisions andsupplies for the theater barge. The boat was empty but Gus waded intothe water and using the oar, gave it a great shove into the river.They watched it skim across the water to bob just ahead of the EmpireCity's bow.

By thistime the steamboat pilot had awaken to the impending calamity and put its screws into reverse, churning thewater into a great froth and swinging to the left. It was slowing butnot enough to stop. The men froze waiting for the moment ofcollision. Suddenly the air exploded with a terrible noise of tornmetal and splintered wood. Taking the force of the impact. thelighter burst into pieces. The Empire City rolled up against the pierstraining the dock lines. But the steamboat had expended its energyand lay beached on the riverbank, rocking in the waves.

Thebandsmen and Major Price quickly scrambled down to the dock. Jimpulled Gus up to the gangplank, his britches soaked and his coattorn. He grinned as they all shook his hand and slapped him on theback. Major Price grabbed him by the shoulders and said, "Gus,that was the most dang fool thing I ever did see. How in tarnationdid you know how to do that?"

"InLübeck, I work asFeuerwehrmann - what you call fireman? Docks see many fires. Littleboat make bumper for ships." He smiled. "Is good, Yes?"

"Good?"exclaimed Major Price, "You bet good. You saved the Empire CityFloating Theater."

"Maybegood enough for an extra bonus in his packet this week?" askedJim.

TheMajor pursed his lips and gave Jim a hard look. "Yes, I supposethat would be a fair ring for keeping us afloat." He paused andlaughed. "By golly that was a fearsome feat. You'll see a $5gold piece in your pay this week, though I still ought to take 15cents out of your wages for that shako plume."

"Major,look there," said Jim pointing up to the bluff, "thistown's got more folk then we thought." A swarm of people spilledover the levee to get a closer view of the accident.

Thelittle photographer scuttled down to them. "Ma-Ma-Major Price,"he stammered breathlessly, "I am so sorry. The noise startled myhorse and caused my equipment to overturn. I'm afraid this negativeis spoiled now and won't turn out well at all."

MajorPrice chuckled, "Little feller, you go write this up for yournewspaper. This kind of free advertising is worth more than athousand photos. We'll have a full house tonight and every night fora month if you can believe it. Come on Jimmy, let's get the bandplaying before this fine turnout loses interest."

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UPDATE:

Thanks to Liz (see comments) for the excellent link to the

Cincinnati Public Library's Inland Riverboats Photograph Collection

from which I have added the extra photos of riverboats that perfectly illustrate my story. My choice of names for the characters and the two boats in my story is entirely invented. However the other events were real and are part of a description of the life of a showboat band.

A Young French Maestro

2011-09-02T13:16:00.001-04:00

One genre of musical photograph that I have neglected is that of the orchestra conductor. Though it is rare to find one in an early photo, frankly they are mostly glamor photos and not very interesting. This French postcard series titled Le Chef d'orchestre ~ The Conductor is an exception.

The two cards posted in September 1904 are addressed to Mademoiselle Madeleine Mercier from Remy and sent to Bry-sur-Marne, France an eastern suburb of Paris.

The humor suggested in the subtitleMétier Ingrat ~ Ungrateful business lies in the playful comparison between the melodramatic behavior of a music director and the child's tantrum-like antics, which are actually quite realistic at times. What interests me is that in 1904 the French public knew enough about orchestra performances to appreciate the subtle humor. This was not just a picture of a cute toddler mimicking a conductor's gestures.

The captions translate from the French as follows:

1. Suivez la mesure! (a part) Triples sots!
~ Follow the action! (aside) Triples fools!

2. Sombrioso (A part) - Abrutis!
~ Sombrioso (aside) - morons!

3. Allegro vivace. (A part) - Limaces! marchez done!
~ Allegro vivace. (Aside) - Slugs! march on!

4. (A part) - Ah! les braillards! La seule chose qu'ils sachent faire n'abusant pas, du fortissimi.
~ (Aside) - Ah! the loudmouths! The only thing that they know not to abuse are the fortissimos.

This same child also appears as a temperamental violinist in another postcard series by the same publisher. So it's possible he may have had some musical talent, as there were a number of different youthful maestros promoted at the turn of the 19th century. Almost all sported flamboyant long hair. Some were children of band directors like Roy Deforest and the New York Orphans Band. Italian bands, almost always from Naples, were very popular and also used the marketing hook of a young conductor to set themselves apart.

In 1914 a young conductor named Willy Ferrero, 7½ years old, was making news in London appearing at the Albert Hall leading the New Symphony Orchestra. He had already appeared in Italy, France, and Russia and clearly was a phenom. Though he conducted with musical talent, in other reports he was described as being unable to read music. In this advert from the London Daily Mail of April 25, 1914, notice that the concert proceeds were in aid of the Children's Hospital at Great Ormond St.

A special podium must have been constructed to help the orchestra musicians see such a diminutive boy conductor.

But this wunderkind was actually an American citizen. Born in Maine of Italian parents who were theatrical people, probably on tour in the US, the family returned to Turin, Italy when he was age two. Ferrero showed an early understanding of music, perhaps instinctively recognizing musical pitches and rhythms and no doubt demonstrating a high level of memorization. He spoke several languages too.

This wire report which appeared in an April 1914 edition of the Indiana Weekly is from St. Petersburg, Russia and describes his conducting an orchestra there for the Tsar. It remarks that Willy's first public concerts were in Paris at age 4, about the same age as the little Chef d'Orchestre.

Following his London concert, there was a report in the London Daily Mail that Willy was accorded an invitation to meet Queen Alexandra the Queen Mother.

WILL FERRERO'S ROYAL CALL

Willy Ferrero, the seven-year-old symphony conductor, whose performance at the Albert Hall on Tuesday astonished orchestra, audience, and critics, is to be received by Queen Alexandra this afternoon. He bears a letter to her Majesty from the Dowager Empress of Russia.

A medical correspondent writes: " There are none of the signs of neurotic precociousness or nervous instability about this prodigy. During the impromptu football game I witnessed in the flat of his friends in Welbeck Street, the only characteristic that marked him from the half-dozen children playing with him was his superabundance of animal spirits. In all other respects than in his innate appreciation of music, Willy Ferrero, as far as one can judge from a casual observation, is just pure boy."

But the dark clouds of war would envelope the world later that summer in 1914, and public attention was diverted from the novelty of musical prodigies. Fortunately too young to serve in WW I, Willy Ferraro seems to have returned to Italy and continued his musical education there, becoming a composer as well as a conductor. He died in Rome in 1954.

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Blake's Cornet Band

2011-08-27T16:26:00.002-04:00

This week's photograph is Blake's Cornet Band, posed outside of a hotel or shop in some American town of the 1890's. This large format albumen photograph has no additional writing, only the name of the band on the bass drum. (The B in Blake's is partly hidden) The uniforms and instrument types date this to sometime between 1888 and 1900.

The band might be named for their leader, who is likely the E-flat cornet player standing center front.

Or it might be named for a place. I found this one 1884 newspaper reference for a Blake's Mills Cornet Band from New Philadelphia, Ohio. (Don't miss the sad story of Miss Laura Johnston)

Or the band name might refer to Blake's Opera House. There was one in Grand Ledge, Michigan and another in Olean, New York.

Or the band might even be part of Professor Blake's famous Dog & Pony Show, which from 1889 to 1912 was a traveling tent show of over 100 trained dogs, ponies, and monkeys. None of the gentlemen in this photo is saying though.

This ad from the June 1881 Musical & Dramatic Courier out of New York is an example of the early marketing for band instruments. During the 19th century the term cornet band generally meant a brass band with no woodwinds and only a few drummers. With 18 musicians, this has remained the typical size for a brass band. With the exception of one slide trombone to the left of the leader, all the other instruments are piston valve type. Sometime a band might pay extra for silver or nickle plated instruments and then call themselves a Silver Cornet Band. That might be the case with this band too, judging from the sparkle on their horns.

They do have a special double bell euphonium (3rd from L) which was a novelty brass instrument introduced in 1888 by the famous Patrick Glimore Band. It uses a 4th valve to change the voice range of the horn from alto to baritone. Just imagine multiple musical personalities. There was one in the Lowville Band but with the little bell on the opposite side.

Though the band's uniforms are certainly impressive with the elaborate embroidery on white wool(?) , their trousers (and shoes too) seem ordinary civilian dress, more in keeping with a town band than a professional touring show band with fancy stripes down the legs.

The 19th century's mania for uniforms created an amazing industry that produced all manner of ornamental fashions for thousands of different military, fraternal, and theatrical groups. Everyone loved a parade but in this era everyone also expected to march in one too. This advert for Wanamaker &amp;amp; Brown Band Uniforms was taken from Trumpet Notes of 1888. I have this suspicion that the choice of hat styles was a fancy related to the politics and national identities of the bandsmen. Or maybe it was just about the cost.

My best guess is that Blake's Cornet Band is a town band made of amateur musicians. Perhaps they are from Blake's Mills, an old industrial village in central Ohio. The band may have assembled to provide music for a political rally or a summer holiday event. But where ever they are, these fellows are keeping the whole truth to themselves.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday.

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A Flutist in Maryland

2011-08-20T15:28:00.000-04:00

Every photo has two sides and sometimes, as demonstrated with last week's photos, it is not just the image but the writing on the back that creates the story. The photograph for this weekend is a carte de visite of a flutist., very similar to another Gentleman Flutist that I described earlier this year. But this time there are enough clues to make a better story.

A well dressed man sits in front of a crude canvas backdrop holding a keyed concert flute made of blackwood, typical for this instrument in the 19th century. He gives the appearance of a professional musician, but not I think, of a bandsman. The clues come from the writing on the back.

Received at

Annapolis Maryland

Oct. 8th 1861

The date is 6 months into the War between the States, which began in April 1861, shortly after the inauguration of President Abraham Lincoln. The place is Annapolis, the capital city of Maryland, a slave state that chose not to secede but to remain in the Union.

Annapolis is situated on the western side of the Chesapeake Bay about 25 miles south of Baltimore and 30 miles east of Washington, DC. On April 19, 1861, the first conflict of the war exploded in the Baltimore Riots when Southern secessionists attacked Federal troops marching to the defense of Washington. As a result, the assembly point for the Union Army was changed from Baltimore to Annapolis.

After this riot, Maryland's General Assembly was called into special session to decide the question of secession, but Annapolis's politics and public sympathy for the Confederate cause forced the Governor to move the state house to Frederick, MD. The legislature voted unanimously to remain in the Union, but of 85,000 Maryland men who signed up for military service, 25,000 fought on the Confederate side.

Annapolis has one other prominent role in American history, it is the location of the U.S. Naval Academy. In April 1861, when the threat of the Confederate force became real, the academy and the USS Constitution were moved to Newport, Rhode Island for the duration of the war. But Annapolis still remained the main port on the Chesapeake for all the shipping necessary for the Union Navy's war effort.

So who is this flutist and how did he come to be received in Annapolis in such a turbulent time? So far I have not discovered any easy answer. Woodwind instruments like the flute were rarely used in the regimental bands of this period, which were brass bands with perhaps only an E-flat clarinet or piccolo for the high treble lines. Military units also had fife bands for marching, but this keyed flute was more associated with the sophisticated music of the orchestra or theater.

Surprisingly, there were quite a lot of traveling musical groups at this time during the war. This is the era of the minstrel shows, and one of the more popular groups, the George Christy Minstrels advertised a flute soloist, Mr. E. Haslan, who accompanied popular ballad songs. So it's possible that this flutist is a professional theater musician.

By the autumn of 1861, Annapolis was rapidly changing into a major logistic station for thousands of soldiers, sailors and their assorted equipment. Every week, more companies of soldiers arrived from Connecticut, Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New York. In fact the first large armada of troop transports would leave for North Carolina in late October. Later Annapolis became the site for both a Union hospital and prisoner of war camp. With this great movement of military personnel around Maryland, I think it is probable that this flutist might be a military officer from New England who has just joined his regiment or his ship. The flute was long considered a mark of a gentleman, and was a common instrument for sailors too.

The theme this weekend at Sepia Saturday was a photograph of a live oak tree overlooking the coastal salt marches of Glynn County, Georgia. It is titled "the Poet's Tree" for the Southern poet, Sidney Lanier (1842-1881). Sidney Lanier is remembered today for his poetry, but he was also an accomplished flute player and composer, and his career as a musician deserves more examination. In 1873 he took a position as principal flute with the Peabody Conservatory Orchestra in Baltimore for $120 a month. His essays on music reflect a strong artistic ambition with a distinctive American flavor.

But as a young man he served in the Confederate Army. Around 1863 while on board a blockade runner he was captured and sent to a Union POW camp at Point Lookout, MD. This camp on the mouth of the Potomac river, became infamous for the overcrowded and unsanitary conditions resulting in over 3,000 deaths. It was in this prison camp that Lanier contracted tuberculosis, eventually succumbing to the disease in 1881 in Tryon , NC.

Annapolis and Point Lookout are relatively close on the Chesapeake Bay, at least by water, and the possibility that these two flutists, one from the South and one from the North, might have met is an intriguing thought. One that could easily inspire another short story.

I conclude with a charming YouTube video of a solo performance on a wooden flute very like the one in the photograph. This is not to say that the Annapolis gentleman played Irish tunes too, but his flute would certainly sound very like this.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday.

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A Boston Love Story

2011-08-13T15:13:00.005-04:00

A short fiction
on two photographs

‘Oh, thank you for coming over Mrs.Wallace. It is such a trying time to be sure and so many lovelythings to go through. You can see I've not made much progress butperhaps with your help we can set the household right.

‘I've justbeen going through this old chifferobe and looking at all the manypictures and cards in this drawer. Do you like that one? That's MissAnnie herself, she'd be around 22 or so I think. Oh look, here it ison the back, Annie Grace Davidson, August 1895. Don't she look sweet?So dressed up, like for the cotillion ball. Now somewhere I must haveseen her sister Geneva's photo but you know how things will goa'missing. Gennie was the younger and only 19 then and oh how proudtheir folks must have been of the two of them.

‘Now thestory I got from old Mrs. Nour, she was the Davidson housekeeper backthen way before me. Mr. Davidson ran a printer shop and moved them all over Boston.First in Union Park, and then Washington St., and around this timethey was across the harbor over in East Boston, Mass on 53 Eutaw. That'show they come to have their portraits done by this here Charles C.Fisher. He kept a photography studio just a short ways down towardthe docks at 74 Meridian St. in East Boston.

‘Now Etta, Mrs. Nour that is, saidshe thought Mr. Fisher had just started his photo camera studioaround that time, maybe 1894, and that maybe he knew Miss Annie. Theywas about the same age it seems and she probably met him at one ofthose cycling clubs she used to go on about. That used to be all therage. Everyone had to have a bicycle. Though how she managed with adress like that I'd like to know. Not like the short things today.

‘Yes you're right about that. It is afine picture of her. It's a shame Mr. Fisher gave it up not longafterward, around “02 I do believe. Mrs. Nour said he had tosupport his mama and little brother and went off to be an insuranceman.

‘Seems the day they went to thestudio, of course Mrs. Nour went along to carry all the dresses,there was a man getting his photo taken too. Lots of people would dothat cause no one had those little box cameras we got today, and youcould get a dozen cabinet photos for maybe $2 or $3. Sometimes therewas special offers in the paper too. Anyways this man was a musicianand he had his cornet. Let me see, where is that picture? Oh here itis in this pile here.

‘Ain't he a handsome one? Now I can'tquite recollect what his name was. Is it on the back? No? Now weought to have Mrs. Nour here to tell us, bless her heart, she was sogood with names. Oh she went on about how this gentleman in his whitetie and tailcoat took a shine to Miss Annie and Miss Geneva. Hestayed around the studio and even played his cornet for them whilethey was sitting for their portraits.

‘Such a time that was, you could hearso many fine bands then. I wish I could remember his name. I'm notsure he didn't even play with the Boston Symphony orchestra, but youknow there was lots of bands and orchestras in Boston then too. Ohwhen I was a little girl we'd go up to Point of Pines and hear Mr.A.H. Knoll and his fine band. They'd play for hours and he had a ladycornet player too, Miss Marie McNeil. My brother he played the cornettoo and he took me to so many concerts. There was the Myles StandishBand up at Nantasket beach. In the summer you'd take the steamer.That band had Herbert L. Clarke who was the best cornet soloist ever,my brother used to say. But there was this Edward LAfricain and hisNaval Brigade Band. We heard them a few times at Bass Point. He was afine cornet player, and I believe he was principal trumpet of theBoston Symphony around this time too. He would have known our younggent here.

‘So as Mrs. Nour told it, this cornetplayer started to pay court. He came over to their new place when Mr.Davidson moved across the river to Melrose and became the Mr. David G. Davidson, manager of the Melrose Journal! Miss Annie, she had justthen started at the jewelry store. She was the bookkeeper for thelongest time, and then later moved up to assistant manager! What'sthat? Yes I suppose that's where she got all these nice boxes for herthings.

‘Anyway MissAnnie was real smitten on him. He got them all concert tickets andtook the two sisters out to the parks that summer. Anyway, Mrs. Noursays it went on for a few months till about December. Thensomething happened. Don't know what exactly, but Mrs. Davidson noticedit first. Mrs. Christie, that's her name, she really kept her eyes onthose girls. Well our gent here wasn't quite as smitten on Miss Annieas she thought. It really was young Miss Geneva who had his heart.Well, you know it just about broke that family apart, the way theseaffairs do.

‘Mr. Davidson wouldn't have none ofit though, and he gave that musician a real dressing down. He was aman of few words but Mrs. Nour said what words he had! So that wasthe end of that. They never saw him again. And for a long while MissAnnie and Miss Gennie didn't get along. But Geneva she took up beinga teacher and lived at home for few more years. Then she settled downbefore the war with that nice man that ran a haberdashery.

‘But poor Miss Annie never took ahusband. And now she's gone, it's so sad. Thank the good Lord she hada nice long life. But you know what I found this morning when I wascleaning out this drawer? That photo of him was right on top. Just asneat as if she'd placed it there yesterday. What do you think ofthat?’

The preceding is a fiction conjured up from an assortment of facts about two unrelated photos from East Boston.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

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of the stories behind old photographs.

The Ladies Band of White City, Kansas

2011-08-05T14:12:00.004-04:00

The state of Kansas has a wonderful legacy of Ladies Bands from the 19th and early 20th century. This ladies brass band from White City. Kansas, shows 16 women with a nice mixture of ages, along with the typical lone gentleman as bandleader in the back center. Compare this band to another from Kansas, the Udall Ladies Band. The instrumentation of 5 cornets, 5 alto/tenor horns, 1 euphonium, 2 valve trombones, 2 tubas, and 2 drums represents the basic list of brass instruments that a town might purchase from a mail order catalog like the Sears & Roebuck Company.

Most of the women are probably from White City, which was established in 1871 in Morris County, KS, about 24 miles south of Junction City. The first town names proposed were Swedeland or New Chicago, but they settled on naming it White City after F. C. White, a railroad superintendent. The town was along a branch of the famed Rock Island Line that ran from Chicago to New Mexico.

At least one young woman (marked with an X) lived 10 miles up the rail line in Alta Vista in the adjoining county of Wabaunsee County, KS. She is identified as Mrs. Union Thomas, on the back of this postcard posted in 1910 by her husband Union Thomas to their son U.P. Thomas. The Woodman Logrolling Picnic could refer to either Woodmen of the World , or Modern Woodmen of the World , competing fraternal organizations that were started by the same man.

Union was born in Ohio in 1861, at the start of the War Between The States, which may explain his unusual first name, and his wife Rachel Thomas was born in 1866. Union had various occupations in Alta Vista, mainly as a butcher. He also owned a pond for making ice in the winter, a useful material for a meat merchant in Kansas. Perhaps it was this same pond where the Woodmen rolled logs.

In the 1910 census though, his occupation was Manager, Opera House and Rachel was his Helper. Many American towns had small theaters which doubled as courthouses or city halls. They booked traveling vaudeville acts and silent movies and sometimes maintained an ensemble of musicians for music accompaniment. But this was hardly a "Grand Opera" theater.

Their son Union Pearly Thomas was born in Kansas in 1885, but was on the road in 1910, hence the address Sacramento, California - General Delivery. He must not have been much of a letter writer, judging by the tone his dad takes suggesting that U.P. may have forgotten what his mother looked like. For the April 1910 census he was living in Laramie, Wyoming, and was recorded by a spelling challenged census taker as a Stenegropher, Union Pacific Railroad. He lived in a rooming house with a Carpender and a Threatre Pianoist. Later U.P. Thomas went on to become a banker in Alta Vista and in the 1920's moved to Phoenix, Arizona, where he was joined by his father after the death of Rachel.

Today the population of Morris County is about 6,000 and Wabaunsee county is similar, but in 1910 they were more than double today's numbers, with over 12,000 people in each county. The turn into the 20th century brought a new influx of immigrants, but not all were farmers. The railroads and livestock industry needed more people than they use today and were major employers. In short, rural life was more crowded than we see it today. Work involved larger teams of men and women. To operate a farm with horse drawn equipment involved far more trades than today's farm system.

Both White City and Alta Vista had musical bands for men too. How did these immigrant farmers and small town shopkeepers develop such a community spirit to organize and participate in musical groups like this? Despite the larger population, Kansas is still a very big open country. It took time and effort, and above all commitment to belong to a ladies band like this.

Thanks to Google Maps we can get a better sense of place than anything I can write. This view is on the main road looking west towards White City. Go ahead and drive on in.

This time Toto, we are definitely in Kansas.

View Larger Map

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

where the theme this weekend was a photo

of the pavilion at the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893,

also known as The White City.

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The Kempsmith Mfg Co. Band

2011-07-29T17:31:00.003-04:00

Once upon a time, it seems every village, town, and city in America had a band. And often more than just one band. There were military bands, municipal bands, fraternal lodge bands, church bands, school bands, ladies bands, orphanage bands, and bands like this one - the factory band. Lined up in neat order on a workshop bench is the Kempsmith Band, the company band for the Kempsmith Mfg. Co. of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Very similar to the brass band tradition in Britain, many industrial companies in the 19th and early 20th century started musical groups to foster employee teamwork and company pride. Some were associated with unions but most were used for the local promotion of the company name.

This 8"x10" format photo is undated and unmarked but the unique name on the bass drum was enough to narrow the search. There is no town with this name in the U.S., but in Milwaukee there is a manufacturer of industrial machinery named Kempsmith, established in 1888 by Frank Kempsmith. Milwaukee has long been a center for high skills industry, especially with automotive, machine tool, and engine manufacturers, and these men are likely trained as metalworking machinists.

The company specialized in metal tooling machinery used by various industries, like the milling machine pictured here from a 1922 ad. Basically making very large and heavy things that could hurt you if you didn't follow the directions. In 1916 they had a payroll of 450 workers. The current company makes tool and die machinery for the paper product industry.

The front row of the Kempsmith band shows a clear difference between a horn (seated 3rd L) and two mellophones next to it. There are also several upright low brass, with two different sized tubas, a euphonium, and an alto horn. They don't seem to have a conductor, so perhaps they were led by the first trumpet. The style of uniforms and haircuts suggest 1920's, perhaps as late as 1935, but certainly some years before WW II.

I could not find an actual reference citation for this band, but I did find an article from 1907 in the business section of the Bismark North Dakota Tribune.

With a title Doubling in Brass, it describes how many businesses were recruiting men with extra musical skills to augment their company bands.
"Here is an advertisement from a place up the state calling for machinists, lathe, bench, and planer hands, who must be musicians and play cornet, trombone or B bass.." it says.

Another Milwaukee machine manufacturer also maintained a company band, and their musicians played every Tuesday for the other employees. In the days before radio, when music was handcrafted and consumed slowly in moderation, a company band must have been a real source of worker pride. All the company activities like picnic socials, baseball games, holiday parades, all needed music and what better way to give back to the staff and community than to have a company band.
What kind of music did they play? And when did the powerful forces of canned recorded music force the demise of factory bands like this?

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

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A Horn Player from New England

2011-07-23T11:31:00.004-04:00

Collectors like myself are on a never ending treasure hunt. Sometimes it's a pursuit for the missing puzzle piece, or just a routine search for something new. But the best fun comes from the unexpected catch. Like this prize found at a small antique shop in Maine that specialized in old tools. Tucked away in an old shoebox miscellany of postcards and photos, was this small photo of a single bandsman, a horn player like myself. Not a postcard, but printed on slightly larger paper, it has the look of a snapshot. Regrettably unmarked, it's yet another mystery photo, but to judge by the dealer's inventory, it seems likely this gentleman poses outside his house somewhere in New England.

Though the horn has always been a major part of orchestral music, it was never a common band instrument in 19th and early 20th century America.The three rotary valves for the left hand distinguish the horn from the mellophone, which was the more popular instrument at the time, with its three piston valves for the right hand. They are also in different keys, the horn in F being much longer at about 12 feet from mouthpiece to bell. There is also a longer conical taper to the horn that requires more skill to manufacture. And the horn mouthpiece is different from the other brass instruments being conical instead of cup shaped.

This particular hornist has a single horn similar to the one Leona Biehl is holding in her family band. I have seen a similar horn made by Wunderlich in Chicago, but it might also be a German or Italian import. The wrap of the plumbing and the way the keys are on top of the valves makes it an unusual design. Horn players can get very geeky about this stuff.

This New England horn player sports a splendid embroidered uniform, one that I would think quite expensive. If it was brand new, that would be a good reason for a photograph. I only wish there was a monogrammed cap or collar badge to give some clue for the location of his town band. If you look closely he is wearing pince-nez spectacles, and bears a strong resemblance to President Theodore Roosevelt, so I think the photo dates from around 1905-1910.

But there is something very odd about his chin. My concern for his health led me to send his photo to friend of mine who is both an orthopedic surgeon and horn player. His reply: The fellow with the horn has a swelling just below his mandible which appears to be centered. He is quite thin but does not look ill. The swelling is a little high for goiter, although that is not out of the question. Infection, chronic lymph nodes, thyroglossal duct cyst, the list is long.
He sent the photo on to an ENT specialist in this sort of thing and got this further diagnosis: Either his submandibular or sublingual glans are swollen or he had a congentital teratoma.

I have not put a link to congenital teratoma, which is an encapsulated tumor with tissue or organ components, so as to spare squeamish readers from learning about horrid medical conditions. (Never say I didn't warn you) I just hope it did not cause this gentleman too much discomfort.

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

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Folk Musicians of the Auvergne

2011-07-15T18:47:00.010-04:00

The rustic charm of the countryside was a favorite theme for early postcards, and many pastoral photocards were produced for France's south central region known as the Auvergne. Pictures of the quaint provincial musicians and dancers were popular with French tourists, eager to tell the folks back home about the wonderful time they were missing.

This handsome musician sits atop a tavern table en-wrapped with his Cabrette, a small bagpipe of France. Originally mouth-blown like the familiar Scottish bagpipes, this instrument uses a bellows under the right arm to pump air into the bag clutched under the left. The chanter and drone pipes are mounted together at the top of the bag.

The word cabrette means little goat in Occitan, the other main language of France. The Cabretaire wears the traditional sabot or wooden clogs that were the standard footwear of farms across Europe.

The card was sent in 1916 and the challenge of reading an old cursive style in a foreign language has defeated me. I do have a notion that the message might involve :

600 œufs a la minute = 600 eggs a minute

The sound of a cabrette is much softer than highland pipes, as it only has one drone. The chanter pipe can have one or two simple finger keys but the scale and range is very limited, so it is only suitable for folk tunes.

But why do other similar postcards show the musicians seated on top of barrels or tables? After a search for videos on YouTube, like this one from a Dutch bagpipe expert, a cabrette performance explains all. This is an instrument playing to accompany the dance, and the wooden shoes are used as drums. Add a table (and some wine) and one musician can sound like six.

If you know Dutch, this video gives a nice explanation of this characteristic French bagpipe.

This next video gives a very good close-up of the playing method.
Extra credit if you watch long enough to count the number of pipers and accordionists.

Another L'Auvergne Pittoresque musician uses a wine cask for his seat while playing his Joueur de Vielle, or Hurdy Gurdy. This unusual folk instrument has a long ancestry and is a remarkabley complex machine. The sound is made by strings set to vibrate by the friction of a rotating disk turned by a crank. The player has a small keyboard for the left hand which presses little tangents onto the strings at the various scale intervals.

Like the bagpipes, the hurdy gurdy was a traditional instrument in many parts of Europe and came in many regional variations. In addition to the 2 melodic strings there are 4 outer strings set onto a bridge, that produce a nasal drone not unlike the bagpipes.

The hurdy gurdy was often elaborately decorated and on this one you can see a carved figurehead on the scrollbox.

This card was posted to Paris in 1904 and the message reads in translation:

I could not send you peaches,
they were too ripe.
I am sending you at the station
a box of raisins.

Please accept my sincere regards
Stephane ?

Perhaps a box like the one under the vielle player's clog?

Here's a good example of how the hurdy gurdy works.

And here the Hurdy Gurdy and Cabrette are played together,
but not on the traditional table tops.
Everyone sing along!

And finally from an amateur travel video (today's modern postcard) to
the village of St. Agnan, in the Dordogne area of France
- a whole band of hurdy gurdies and cabrettes with costumed dancers.

Grab your stick and dance!

My contribution to Sepia Saturday

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The J. T. Wortham Carnival Band

2011-07-09T17:37:00.003-04:00

One of the old delights of summertime was the return of the carnival. In America's western states on the Great Plains, where homes were scattered across a vast grid of farms and ranch lands, and communities were isolated from the urban centers back east, the appearance of a carnival show became a major event. But one that was not always desired.

Ten bandsmen of the J. T. Wortham Show Band of 1923 take a moment between sets to pose for a publicity photo. They stand in front of a show tent for a traveling carnival run by John T. Wortham of Texas. Not quite a circus and not just a vaudeville revue, the carnival show provided rural America with a unique entertainment complete with wild animals, strange curiosities, deceptive games, dizzying rides, novelty food, and of course - loud band music.

What makes this large format photo a remarkable bit of cultural trivia is the ethnic heritage of some of the bandsmen. At least three and maybe more are notably dark skinned men. The snare drummer (back L), one clarinetist (front L), and the cornet player (3rd from R) are not typical musicians to see in a photo of 1923 America. This is the era of racial segregation and Jim Crow laws. Discrimination was the rule in the USA and the opportunities for musicians of color were slim to non-existent. The one exception was the world of the circus and the carnival.

My theory on their background is that they are not African-American, but Native American. In both the West and Northeast, there were several state schools for Indians that promoted their bands of woodwind and brass players. And given the Texas origins for the Wortham Shows, these schools seem a likely source for musicians, especially since the main specialty of carnivals was exhibiting the unusual.

Many circus bands were quite large with 30 to 50 players, so this one is small. It is interesting that there are two trumpets but only one cornet, as this is the time when the the cornet, the dominant lead brass instrument for the last century, begins to be overtaken in popularity by the trumpet. Note also the special hat badge on one trumpet player (4th from R) denoting him as the bandmaster.

The Wortham Carnival Shows were started in 1910 by Clarence Wortham, and eventually had 7 touring productions. In 1922, John T. Wortham took over the business after the untimely death of his older brother. The shows traveled along the rail lines, advertising their size by the number of cars. One carnival carried over 500 people on a special train of 25 cars.

The 1930 Census for Stockton, California had 4 pages devoted to the J. T. Wortham Show. John T. Wortham, age 44, is listed as Proprietor, Traveling Show with his wife Leah, 41, a cashier. This show had a work force of 153 people and included 12 people identified as negro who were musicians and dancers. Another musician, Duke Kamakua, was born in Hawaii and was probably part of the hula girl attraction.

On March 22, 1922, The Mexia Evening News (TX), carried the following short report:

"DIXIELAND"

In his "Dixieland" with the John T. Wortham shows, R.H. Cobb has gathered together a number of the most talented negro performers in America. This minstrel company is headed by Mme. Rainey, the great 'blues" singer, who has played all the bigtime vaudeville circuits, and Ezekill Hill, "Little Zeke," the negro comedian and dancer extraordinary. A notable feature of "Dixieland" is the jazz orchestra directed by Prof. Snapp, the noted colored pianist.

A few days earlier, the Mexia Evening News ran this ad showing:
Nellie the cow with six legs and two tails; Johan Aason - the Norwegian Boy Giant, 8 feet 9 ¼ inches tall; and Madam Rainey, Texas' leading colored singer of the Mississippi blues. (Who may or may not have been Ma Rainey, 1886-1939, the so-called Mother of the Blues.)

More so than the circus, the carnival show acquired a very poor reputation in many towns, as they were associated with every kind of vice, and were notorious for con men and cheats. Many shows found their bookings cancelled after review by a town council. In an effort to attack the opposition straight on, the show owners organized a lobbying group in 1923 and announced special reforms. The list of things they were fixing tells more about why carnivals deserved such a scandalous regard.

In a 1923 report from the wonderfully named, The Lubbock Daily Avalanche (TX), the J.T. Wortham Show was described as:

Cleanest Every (sic)
Held Here.

The old day of the petty thieving carnival game is gone. The people of America are demanding clean shows with a clean, high moral tone to the entertainments. The show and carnival people themselves are taking the lead in this work of cleaning up the shows. An idea of how they are doing this may be had from the following letter written by John T. Wortham to the Fair Association:

Realizing that there were certain abuses in the manner in which carnivals and circuses were conducted, a number of the owners met in Chicago this spring and organized "The Showmen's Legislative Committee." Eighty-five per cent of the legitimate carnival owners belong to this organization. We secured Mr. Thomas J. Johnson, a well known attorney of Chicago, as Commissioner, and Mr. Johnson now has the authority and occupies the same position in the outdoor show world that Judge Landis and Mr. Will Hays hold in baseball and moving picture interests.

Mr Johnson has made rules for the conduct of carnivals, prohibiting the following:

All '49 camps; all hoochie-coochie shows; all Hawaiian village shows with dancers; all fairy-in-the-well shows; all immodest, immoral or suggestive shows; all shows exclusively for men; all shows with a final blow-off; all snake-eating shows; all glomming shows which are those where they eat live fowl, rats, mice, or raw meat to give the impression that they are wild men; Gypsies are prohibited from being around, associated or connected with outdoor amusements; all persons under the age of 16 years are prohibited from playing any games unless accompanied by a parent or guardian; all games where money is given as prizes are prohibited; all games where prizes may be exchanged for money are prohibited; all games where the operator or attendant may. by mechanical trick, brake, or by pinching, squeezing, or otherwise control its speed or determine the outcome are prohibited.

The swing ball, the creeper, the set spindle, the pickout, the cloth and pin, the drop case, the bee-hive, the six-arrow, base-ball or tivoli, the roll down and the hand striker or hinger are prohibited. The carrying, selling, giving away, disposing or exhibiting of dope, narcotics, liquor, or any indecent card, picture, poster, or literature are prohibited. All unsafe or improperly conducted rides are condemned.

All restaurants, eating places, refreshments stands must be kept in a clean and sanitary condition. I am a member of the Showmen's Legislative Committee and am honestly trying to run my show in accordance with the rules made by Mr. Johnson. I feel sure that you will find something of interest in each of my shows and will find that all my concessions are run fairly. I bespeak the patronage at both my shows and concessions of all those who believe in clean outdoor amusements.

Respectfully, JOHN T. WORTHAM

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The Greenhill Ladies' Orchestra

2011-07-02T11:52:00.002-04:00

As the 20th century began, the traditional musical instrument for women was the piano. But the violin was becoming equally popular with women as an outlet for musical talent. Though to a limited extant, women were accepted as solo performers in the 1900's, and women harpists were sometimes allowed in orchestras, opportunities for women string and wind musicians to play alongside men in professional ensembles did not exist. The solution was to start their own ensembles like the Greenhill Ladies' Orchestra from London. Standing in the center is the conductress, Miss Bessie Greenhill, leading a chamber orchestra of 14 women which includes violins, (presumably a viola too), 2 cellos, double bass, piano, flute, cornet., and percussion. For a similar ensemble of ladies but from an earlier decade, see my post on The Ladies in White.

Her full name is Bessie Lillian Greenhill and she was born in 1873 to James and Emma Greenhill of Hampstead. James was a professor of voice at Harrow, one of England's oldest public schools for boys and one that has a long tradition of singing. One of the more famous alumni, Winston Churchill, who was there in 1888, may have had music lessons with Greenhill. James was a scholar on the music in Shakespeare's plays and must have been something of a musical entrepreneur judging by his ad in The Musical Times of 1886, (center right column). He offered a "Shakespearian Entertainment" illustrating the progress of vocal music from 1597 to 1886.

His oldest daughter, Christine Greenhill, born in 1870 took up the piano, and both Bessie and Christine appear as a duo in London concert reviews from about 1890. They also accompanied their father in his concerts too. That may be Christine, wearing pince-nez, seated at the piano, and the two sisters may be partners in establishing this orchestra.

One performance that got a mention in the May 1st, 1894 issue of The Musical Times, shows how acerbic and caustic the London reviewers could be. After skewering the earlier performers, the writer confesses he did not hear Misses Christine and Bessie Greenhill, having left in disgust just before their performance.

Women got encouragement in the late 19th century to take up the violin from the success of a few female soloists like Wilma Neruda, who became Lady Halle when she married Sir Charles Halle; and the American violinist Maud Powell who did concert tours in Britain in 1883-84, and 1898- 1905. But it would be several more decades before women would be accepted in the violin sections of the major orchestras.

At this time in London there were several ladies' orchestra that provided music for special events like exhibitions and conferences. In 1894 Bessie played in a benefit concert for the Royal British Nurses Association. She was the leader of the Blue Zouave Ladies Orchestra conducted by Miss Marie Wolaska and it included Miss Marie Woolhouse on flute and Miss Adeleine Parkyn on cornet. Perhaps they remained with Bessie and are also in the photo. It is notable that married women were very uncommon in these ensembles.

The back of this postcard is what makes this an interesting artifact of London musical times. The postmark is unclear, but the stamp of George V in profile was issued in 1912, so about c.1912-15. It's addressed to Miss Lesbia Harrison.

13th St Mary's Terrace, Paddington W.2
Would you let me know if disengaged for
first class seaside Hotel leadership (& solos)
open Sep 11th. Send Terms.
Yours truly, Bessie Greenhill

Lesbia Harrison passed her examination on violin at the Royal Academy of Music in December 1910 as a performer and teacher. Out of a class of 21 students on the violin or violoncello, she was one of 16 young ladies graduating. She appeared in concert listings thorough 1920. Bessie must have worked hard to find musicians for all her engagements, since she probably only employed women.

Christine Greenhill married Arthur William Leverett, a wood engraver in September 1897. But Bessie does not seem to have ever married. She died in 1943 in St. Austell Cornwall, a likely place for a first class seaside hotel.

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The Kräusel Family Virtuosi

2011-06-24T19:03:00.010-04:00

The Virtuosen-Familie Th. Kräusel are an example of a popular European tradition of the late 19th and early 20th century - the family band. Music was like any other family-run craft or trade, and a musician's children were expected to excel at music and participate in the family business. So naturally, a prolific family would offer public concerts of their household orchestra.

Most photographs like this one emphasize the variety of instruments, or the number of children, or both. String instruments are just as varied as brass band instruments, and suggest a more refined musical repertoire. The formal white tie and tails suggest a professional class too. And as always, the youngest child is the star attraction.

This photo postcard is nicely dated Sunday Oct.31, 1909 and provides a printed name of Th. Kräusel, likely Theodor Kräusel.

On the back are the names Edward, Kalle, Ernst, & self. Could it be the mother's or the father's writing? Who else but parents would not bother with a spouse's name? Presumably Edward is the older boy in the back with a cello, next to sister Kalle on cittern, and Ernst in front holding a violin.

The advent of the picture postcard proved a useful new convenience for marketing a musical group like this. There are hundreds of similar musical bands in German and Austrian postcards of this period. This one might even be a first printing saved by Herr Kräusel.

Unfortunately the name Kräusel with its ümlaut offers too many German spelling variants, so I have been unable to find any records on this family. Without knowing their precise background, they may have come from almost anywhere in central Europe.

But I have found more of their photos.

This larger cabinet card size photograph shows two more brothers, but no sister. Along the bottom is printed the same Virtuosen-Familie Th. Kräusel and penciled on the back is:

Zur Freundlicher Erinnerung von Nan Kräusel
For Friendly Remembrance from Nan Kräusel.

A younger family is here with wonderful costumes that have lost their colors to the sepia-tone. If the first date is correct, this photo is perhaps 1902-4, but mother Nan certainly ages. No doubt from the trials of managing such a large band.

The photographer is Alfred B. Nilson, Helsingborg which is in Sweden so perhaps there is a Swedish connection. Many Germanic names cross over the complicated boundaries of 19th Century Europe, which makes finding good identity matches very challenging. Or maybe this was taken on tour.

And finally an even older image from the Historische Bildpostkarten Collection from the University of Osnabrück. This was one family band that worked hard on music promotion. And haircuts too.

Imagine traveling in 1900 with steamer trunks full of of instruments, music, costumes and of course the children. Maybe the slower pace balanced out the challenges of railway timetables, bad hotels, and poor roads. Did they perform at hotels or beer gardens? Were they playing for strictly German-speaking audiences or was their music tailored for Danish, Swedish, or even Hungarian tastes?

The string instruments include violins, a violincello, mandolins, a cittern, and the Harp Guitar which was a favorite instrument of German folk ensembles of this era. It has a fretted neck for playing complex chords and an unfretted neck for bass strings played separately in the manner of a harp. There are many kinds of Harp Guitars using different arrangements for strings, necks, and sound box, but it was probably used to accompany the voice. Did the children sing too?

There are also some woodwind instruments, some herald trumpets, and a few percussion too, including a kind of xylophone.

But the reason that this is a unique musical group is found in the first photo. The arrangement on the floor has two unusual instruments crossed on top of two wooden xylophones: an oboe (L) and a Heckelphone (R) with its characteristic side holes in the bell. The oboe is exceptional enough in photographs but the Heckelphone is beyond rare. An obscure member of the oboe family, it was invented by the Wilhelm Heckel GmbH in the 1880s after a suggestion by Richard Wagner for a stronger bass oboe for his operas. Wagner had already "invented" the Wagner Tuba to cope with the special demands for a bass horn in his immense opera productions. This was a similar concept of reinforcing the bass timbre in the double reed instruments: the oboe and the bassoon. Few orchestra musicians today have ever seen or heard a Heckelphone, and usually its part is played by a ~~contra-bassoon~~ bassoon. (see comments of Robert Howe below)

Here you can see the full consort of the oboe family from small Musette (bottom) to largest Heckelphone (top), which is an octave lower than the standard oboe ( 2nd from bottom). A modern orchestra typically has two oboes and and English horn. The Heckel company, famous for its bassoons, never completed the design of the Heckelphone in Wagner's lifetime, and the first instrument was only finished in 1905. Richard Strauss used it first for his opera Salome and later Elektra, and An Alpine Symphony. Gustav Holst scored for ~~one~~ a bass oboe (2nd from top) in The Planets. (see comments of Robert Howe below)

Because it is such a very uncommon instrument, there is a Heckelphone List of every single instrument that has been made and that reaches to only 148. In the first decade of the 20th century only 29 were produced, and Herr Kräusel has one at his feet! Could he be an oboist in an opera orchestra who premiered this odd bass instrument in one of Strauss's operas?

Arthur Grossman, Univ. of Washington

In January, 2001, Music Professor Arthur Grossman of the University of Washington presented a special Heckelphone Concert. His photo from the university magazine shows what an ungainly instrument it is. Click the link for the story of how he acquired his Heckelphone.

But how did the Virtuosen Familie Kräusel get their instrument? Certainly only a professional oboe player would know of such a thing. Theodor Kräusel probably put in a special order to the Heckel factory. At this time there were hundreds of opera houses around the German and Austro-Hungarian Empires, but only a few of them could stage the grand operas of Strauss. Herr Kräusel surely must have played in one of them.

I can not imagine the Heckelphone providing an accompaniment to a medley of German children's songs, but I can imagine that great mustache wrapped around the little double reed. His children must have laughed.

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Summer Music at Rye Beach, NH

2011-06-17T22:48:00.003-04:00

The sounds of summer are always musical, but once upon a time they were shared by everyone. A holiday at the beach in 1900 was never complete without music from the bandstand. Every resort and hotel offered extra attractions like a band or orchestra. Groups with a theme were popular favorites like Herr Blome's Berlin Meisters in Blackpool, England which I posted last year.

These five musicians stand behind a bandstand on the other side of the Atlantic in Rye Beach, New Hampshire in the summer of 1897. The large format photo has the double bass player marked as Paul Whiteman, along with two violins, a clarinet, and cornet. Their uniforms have fancy but discrete embroidery and they wear jaunty white nautical caps with a letter N badge. There is no music leader here, and the rest of the orchestra is probably out for supper.

Rye Beach is part of Rockingham County that small part of New Hampshire's Atlantic coastline that separates Massachusetts from Maine. Tourism started in the 1840's with the Ocean House, shown here in a stereoscopic card from the New York Public Library collection. Note the bandstand on the front lawn. Another large hotel was the named the Farragut House, capitalizing on a visit of the famous Admiral Farragut. Perhaps this connection and the nearby Portsmouth Navy Yard explain the musicians' yachting hats. But unfortunately fire was a common hazard, and these grand buildings didn't survive into the 1900's.

Neighboring Hampton Beach was developed in 1907 when the New Hampshire beaches really became a popular destination for visitors from all over New England. This postcard is from 1914 and shows the band stand and the boardwalk. It was sent to Miss Irene Blessing of Leominster, MA.

We are having a great time Wish you were here with us.
We have three concerts a day here and oh such dancing. Minnie

I failed to find any records on the double bassist Paul Whiteman or his N orchestra. I do know he could not be Paul Whiteman (1890 - 1967) the famous jazz band leader of the 1920's. He and his comrades were no doubt seasonal musicians, perhaps a traveling ensemble that played the New England resort circuits.

One check was to go through the census of Rye, which was done on June 26, 1900. After several pages of the usual farmers, shop keepers, fishermen, etc. - all born in New Hampshire or Massachusetts, abruptly there are two whole pages of men with wonderfully melodious names like Giovanni Crestello, Franncesco Pappatoro, Leonardo Belatriccio - all born in Italy. Over 200 men imported from Italy and employed to build the the Electric Railroad, the trolley car line that is pictured in the postcard. I would bet that several of them went on to become musicians in the hotel bands too.

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The New York Orphan Boys' Band

2011-06-11T16:26:00.005-04:00

As American cities made the turn into the 20th century, they struggled with a major social problem - the care of widows. orphans, and the elderly. The rapid growth in industry and business, as well as immigration, saw rising populations in all classes of society, but especially in the numbers of abandoned and orphaned children living on the streets. In 1902, New York City had over 60 Homes for Children devoted to the care of foundlings, orphans, half-orphans, and destitute children. This circa 1905 postcard shows the band from one such institution,

the New York Orphan Boy's Band.

The band's military style uniforms, complete with leggings, are different than those of most other boys bands of this time. A few of the older "boys" sport broad-brimmed boyscout hats. Presumably the band furnished parade music too, as the little drum major stands next to a fancy bearskin hat. On the bass drum the printing company has added the image of the manager, J. De Forest.

But this card is more an advertisement than a postcard, because on the back is Roy De Forest, the youngest LEADER in the WORLD imitating SOUSA. Wearing a smart embroidered coat, he strikes a confident pose with a heavy bandmaster's baton.

But what is the back-story to this promotional ephemera from 1900 New York? My research took an unexpected direction that led to an exploration of the early sporting history of boxing.

The name "De Forest" presented problems because of alternative spellings, and "Roy" and the initial J were insufficient for a good confirmation. But then I found another copy of this same card on a website for boxing memorabilia. It was the only band photo amid thousands of boxing photos, and it seemed an odd entry for such a specialized subject. But the answer came when I found another photo with the name Jimmy DeForest posing with the celebrated boxer, Jack Dempsey.

This photo comes from Boxrec.com , and shows James "Jimmy" DeForest, the trainer who helped Dempsey win his famous championship fight against Jess Willard on July 4, 1919.

Willard was the 6'6" heavyweight who had defeated Jack Johnson in Havana in 1915, and this bout was no less controversial. Dempsey knocked Willard down 7 times in the first round, leading to a claim that he had used weighted gloves on the larger man. Willard sustained a broken jaw, cheekbone, and ribs, and threw in the towel after the third round. The charge of fixed gloves has since been proven baseless but it still inspires heated debate.

Though he is older in this photo, the resemblance to the man on the bass drum is striking. With this better search term, the 1910 Census found James DeForest age 41, living in Ocean township, New Jersey with his wife Catherine age 29, and son James R. age 10. His occupation then and in the 1920 Census was physical instructor. His work with Dempsey seems to have ended shortly after the championship match, but DeForest trained other boxers and was a promoter of prizefighters and matches at the Polo Grounds. In the mid-1920's he also offered a boxing correspondence course, advertised in magazines like this issue of Popular Mechanics June 1927.

But how does a boxing trainer connect to a boy's brass band?
More research provided an answer in a book titled The Luckiest Orphans a history of the Hebrew Orphan Asylum of New York By Hyman Bogen. In 1900 a new superintendent, David Adler, added physical training to the curriculum of the orphanage, and engaged an ex-circus trapeze aerialist, James DeForest to teach the boys.

Evidently he was a popular teacher who befriended the boys and made a lasting impression beyond the gym. These postcard views of the Hebrew Orphan Asylum give a view of a hard institutional life, but one that was probably better than many other orphanages in the city. The main building on Amsterdam Ave. listed a capacity for 850 children and provided support, education, and industrial training.

But thanks to the Amazon.com snippet view of this book, I found the confirming detail that Jimmy DeForest's duties at the HOA also included rehearsing a boys' band once a week. Perhaps music was a talent he learned in his early life in the circus. The band only lasted about two years, as Jimmy moved on in 1907. And Roy, no doubt grew out of his expensive uniforms.

This obituary clipped from the Plattsburgh NY Daily Press of Oct. 13, 1932 gives extra details on DeForest's life, including a rare story of running away from the circus, when his trapeze artist parents chose to dress him as a girl. And his entrepreneur's story in the New York boxing world of the 1900's when there were opportunities to win big, reads like a novel, and no doubt typical of most sporting men, contains much that was embellished for better effect.

But the part about the New York Orphan Boy's Band wasn't told so often and probably had more influence than Jimmy would ever know. Many of those boys that Jimmy trained would serve in the trenches of World War I. Perhaps some of the band members marched with the army bands in the victory parades, or at least ended up in Broadway theater orchestras. And how many of those boys would brag that their gym teacher had trained Jack Dempsey, heavy weight champion of the world?

But it was heartening to learn that the little boy imitating Sousa was in fact not an orphan, or even a half-orphan. Did he save the baton?

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Uncle Ed Rister and his Cornet

2011-06-04T19:26:00.004-04:00

The best photos are not always the best photographs. Blurred focus, poor lighting, or even cutoff framing will not detract from a picture that has a good story. And photo postcards like this one often have the best mystery tales.

The imagination looks into the photo and sees a story, but it is very short, often minimalist with only a few characters. And though the main protagonist is there, the time and the place are not always clear, since the clues, like breadcrumbs in a fairytale, are scattered and may not lead anywhere. Any action is only suggested, and never explained. The ending can be as unsatisfying as a foreign language movie, but still we re-read the image over and over, trying to complete a hidden story.

The card back gives us our character's name - Uncle Ed in his band uniform - standing at attention with his cornet and music stand. His uniform lacks the fancy embroidery of most town bands, but it does have a fine trouser leg stripe, and on his collar a musical lyre with the initials U.S. I believe this is a U.S. Army bandsman from about the same time as Jesse Romig who served in the 11th Cavalry Band in Iowa. The epaulets and coat match army uniforms, but there is insufficient detail to say which unit. My guess is an infantry band.

His full name is Edward Rister from Oliver County, North Dakota and I found him in the 1910 census, living there on his father's farm. Born in Germany, June 1883, his family came to America in 1891, and Ancestry.com even found the ship manifest listing him with his father Abbrlow Rister and mother Margaretta. Uncle Ed's sister could be either Mary, Lilly, Ida, Bertha, Freda, or Emma. His brother Otto Rister shows up at No. 24 on the 1917 North Dakota plat map, which helps convey the amazing flatness of the great plains. The population of the county in 1900 was only 990, but a major wave of immigration in the next decade took it to a remarkable 3,577 by 1910. Now one hundred years later. the population has declined to 1,846. Perhaps smaller families account for that.

Miss Bertha Bertsch was born in 1902 and her father and grandfather, Christian Bertsch Jr. & Sr., ran a blacksmith shop in Bismark, ND. If we suppose that she was 8 or 9 when she received this, the photo is about 1911-12.

Fortunately a thoughtful descendant wrote down Uncle Ed's last name as searching for Bister would not have brought as many good hits. The message and handwriting suggest Edward had limited skill in English, but probably his music was better. As his trail in history disappears before the next decade's census, the annotation would seem correct, and he dies in 1912.

Was he an army bandsman? Just across the Missouri River from Bismark, the capital of North Dakota, is Fort Lincoln. It was established in 1895, to replace an earlier fort of the Indian Wars period, and was the only likely place to have a regimental army band. A German farmer's son who had a talent for music and wanted to see the world, would certainly look to military life as a way out. And if he had just joined up, he'd pay a dollar to a photographer for a few photos to send off to family and firnds.

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The Blue and the Gray, Two Bands on Memorial Day

2011-05-28T22:47:00.002-04:00

The sounds of family cookouts, ballgames, and band concerts will fill the air on this last weekend of May, as towns across America celebrate the start of the summer season. But the real root of this tradition is the solemn occasion of Decoration Day, now known as Memorial Day, when communities honor America's fallen soldiers. Shortly after the Civil War of 1861-65, veterans and their families began the practice of placing flowers on graves in remembrance of military service. But in 1868 the Grand Army of the Republic, or the G.A.R. as the fraternal group of Union veterans was known, helped establish May 30 as Decoration Day. The ceremonies expanded to include parades, speeches, religious services, songs, and band music. In 1882 the name was changed to Memorial Day.

This is the town band of Lowville, New York posing for Mr. Mandeville's camera on Memorial Day 1908. Note the fine double-bell euphonium on the left, an instrument with a real split personality.

The distinguished man with the Teddy Roosevelt style pince-nez glasses is Valentine Martone, a recently resigned Principal Musician of the 23th Infantry Regimental Band, who became the bandleader, and solo cornet for the Lowville Band in September 1907. Martone, born in Italy 1876, had also married a local New York girl, Anna Hitchcock, that December, so this Memorial Day was an important event for him to commemorate with a photograph. Certainly Miss Edna Day knew all about the Lowville Band which could trace a heritage back to 1857.

The events were described in both Lowville newspapers: the Democrat, and the Journal & Republican. The ceremonies began in the morning with the Lowville Band leading a procession of veterans, families, children, and dignitaries to the town cemeteries. Following a break for dinner there were additional formations, music and speeches in the afternoon.

Another newspaper article listed 171 deceased veterans in 9 Lowville cemeteries; and 117 were men who served in "the War of Rebellion" as it was known in the North. All over New England and the Mid-West, townspeople were listening to prayers, speeches, stories, songs, and patriotic music as a nation commemorated its valiant soldiers. This great war had claimed over 620,000 casualties from both North and South, and left countless other men wounded or maimed. Civil War Casualties

Capt. and Rev. W. R. Helms spoke in Lowville that day:

his address was largely reminiscent, as to his experiences at the time of his enlistment and during his army life. He extolled the character of Abraham Lincoln and his profound judgment and firmness in maintaining the cause of the union; and also spoke of his humanity and kindness to the soldiers who defended the cause of the republic. ... He paid splendid tributes of respect to both the union and confederate armies for their surpassing courage and fidelity to their colors, and that their heroism on many bloody fields was never surpassed and seldom equaled in any great world conflict.

The next photograph comes from a Decoration Day 20 years earlier and 1000 miles to the south. A Cornet Band from Savannah, Georgia on Memrorial Day, 1889. But this was not taken on May 30 but on April 26, Confederate Memorial Day . This is a typical 19th century brass band with a several sax horns and rotary valve cornets and one E-flat clarinet sticking his tongue out to the camera. The children seem happy to be part of the display on the bandstand.

The writing on the back is faded and is difficult to read. The first words, if they are words and not scribble, are illegible. But the handwriting seems genuinely old and contemporary with the photo.
Unfortunately there is no photographer's stamp, but the card stock resembles the orange/ yellow cardstock used on Savannah Stereoscopic Photos , perhaps most closely that of Jerome N. Wilson, who worked in Savannah from 1865 to 1897.

Memorial Day was very important for the Southern secessionist states and was celebrated in much the same way as the North but with a twist of a different date. The Union states chose a day on which there was no associated battle. But the Southern states chose April 26, when Confederate General Joseph E. Johnston surrendered to Union General William Sherman in 1865. The speeches for the losing side were understandably different than those up north. In Georgia, the sting of war brought on by General Sherman's March to the Sea lasted a long time. Only Savannah was spared destruction by accepting an offer to surrender.

But there is another puzzle about this photograph that is subtle and yet a key question. There's a hill in the background. And Savannah does not have hills. I know this from living there for 13 years. This is The Low Country, a tidal river delta with flat marshes and alligators. There are no hills that would obscure a view of nearby buildings like this. The main city parks in Savannah at this time are formal and flat, and the slope in this photo seems at odds with the geography. And yet the back reads Savannah, GA, and not the other Savannahs in Tennessee, Missouri, California or New York. It is possible that this hill is a remnant of fortifications. Or it might be sand dunes at Tybee Island, a sea island village about 15 miles east on the mouth of the Savannah river.

My research on the two Memorial Days, the Blue and the Gray, kept bringing up a name connected to the story of "the War between the States" as it was called in the South. Charles Colcock Jones Jr was an historian of both Georgia and the War, with over 65 entries covering 6 ½ pages in the 1890 journal of the American Historical Association. (which included Theodore Roosevelt, then serving on the Civil Service Commission)

Jones lived this history, having been born in Savannah in 1831, he was a lawyer and mayor of Savannah in 1860. He also served in the Chatham Artillery of the Confederate Forces and wrote a fine history on the 1862 Battle of Ft. Pulaski , when the Union's rifled artillery demolished the great brick fortress which blocks the entrance to the Savannah river. Charles Colcock Jones Jr. was a skilled orator and after moving up the river to Augusta, GA, he helped organize the Confederate Survivors Association , the counterpart to the G.A.R.

On Confederate Memorial Day, April 26, 1889, Jones gave an address on Georgians During the War Between the States at the 11th reunion of the CSA in Augusta, GA, which is about 100 miles upriver from Savannah. Given that this event was a large commemoration and that Jones was from Savannah, I think it possible that an entrepreneur of souvenir stereoscopic photos like J. N. Wilson would join the Savannah Cornet Band for a trip to Augusta. And while it is hardly mountainous, there's a bit more tilt to the landscape here, which could explain the hill. But it is only speculation.

Both of these photos demonstrate the most important duty of a town brass band - providing music for a solemn occasion. People who had endured the horror and privation of their nation divided, heard something special in a cornet playing "Nearer, My God, To Thee." Every man who had walked to the battlefields of 1861 knew the special meaning of a good march tune. And the sound of a bugler playing Taps was fast in the memory of all soldiers, Blue and Gray.

Right next to the June 4, 1908 newspaper report on the Lowville Memorial Day events was a short report on six men who had applied for US citizenship on Monday, June 1. There was a test before a judge, and only one man passed - Valentine Martone, the leader of the Lowville Band, who gave his oath of citizenship on June 1, 1908.

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The Detroit News Orchestra

2011-05-20T13:01:00.007-04:00

Once upon a time there was a fantastic new technology that pulled sounds from the air and let people hear distant voices and music right in their living room. It was a wonder called radio, and everyone had to get one. Today's scramble for the latest gadget does not compare to the amazing boom created by the first commercial radio broadcasts of the 1920's.

The first radio station to air a news program was 8MK, produced by the Detroit News in August 1920. In 1922 the call sign was changed to WWJ and the station expanded its programs to include a small orchestra called the Detroit News Orchestra, the first radio orchestra in the United States, if not also the world. Most were musicians who also played in the Detroit Symphony Orchestra and their leader was Otto E. Krueger, the flutist seated in the center.

This large 8"x10" press photo from the archives of the Detroit News has a stamped date of FEB 23, 1926 on the back with an incomplete list of the musicians' names. No doubt a studio portrait shot by a staff photographer of the Detroit News.

But the photo was actually taken in 1922.

In Google's vast archive of digitized books is a 1922 volume of The Fourth Estate , a trade journal for the newspaper industry. In the June 10, 1922 edition they printed an announcement of the formation of the Detroit News Orchestra and it includes the same photo.

The new medium of the wireless radio was more than just the opportunity for communication of ideas. There was a vast potential for profit, and everyone wanted a stake in it. In 1922 there were already 67 Stations owned by universities, publishers, electric companies, and other business corporations.

Many of the stations had powerful transmitters that allowed their AM signal to be heard across the continent. But the receivers were only little crystal sets or the new improved vacuum tube models. Sound was only monophonic and getting a clear frequency reception could be a daunting task. For more than you will ever need to know about radio history go here: Early Radio History

But programing was challenging because most of the public didn't yet own a radio, or even have electricity in their home. The first stations had to create both content and a market, and musical performances seemed a good attraction, but what kind of music to play? Detroit was becoming a major center for American art and industry, and the Detroit Symphony had just been established in 1914, so talented professional musicians like Otto Krueger were given the challenge of creating a new kind of Concert of the Air.

The next photo was probably taken about the same time and shows the WWJ sound studio with its single microphone on the right. The newspaper was quite proud of its efforts in radio and in 1922 produced a book WWJ - The Detroit News, a history of the radiophone describing its many innovations in broadcasting. It includes a description of the Detroit News Orchestra on page 21 with brief biographies of the musicians.

Otto E. Krueger - conductor and flautist
Maurice Warner - concertmeister
Herman Goldstein - first violin
LeRoy Hancock - first violin
Armand Hebert - second violin
V. P. Coffey - viola and piano, composer
Frederick Broeder - cello
Eugene W. Braunsdorf - bass
Thomas J. Byrne - oboe
R. M. Arey - clarinet
Vincenzo Pezzi - bassoon
Albert Stagliano - French horn
Edward Clarke - French horn
Floyd O'Hara - trumpet
Max Smith - trombone
Arthur Cooper - xylophone and percussion instruments

Otto Krueger was born in 1891 and continued leading the orchestra as well as playing in the Detroit Symphony for several years. Albert Stagliano was first horn in the Detroit Symphony and would later become principal horn of the most famous radio orchestra - the NBC Symphony.

The next photo comes from 1925 and shows a smaller ensemble of ten musicians. The back lists the musicians as:
standing l-r: Carl Chase, Fred Lauer, Otto Krueger, Eugene Bronstarff (sic);
seated l-r: Maurice Warner, Roy Hancock, Lawrence Manzer, Valbert P. Coffey, Marius Fossenkemper, Frederick Broeder.
They seem to have given up on the white tie and tails, or maybe this is just rehearsal dress.

Radio Broadcast, a monthly magazine in the same DIY style as Popular Mechanics, published a picture of the Detroit News Orchestra in 1924. It had articles titled: Man Made Static - What Is That Scratching Sound? and Why You Should Have A Wavemeter.
Braunsdorf also doubled on sousaphone, perhaps because low brass on the AM band made for a stronger bass.

I was unable to find out when the Detroit News Orchestra stopped playing on WWJ, though a station with these call letters continues in Detroit today.

By 1926, many radio stations were struggling with the high cost of producing programs and also maintaining the transmitting equipment. This brought about the consolidation of stations under the major corporations like NBC and CBS. And then there was the Great Depression, which undoubtedly had a major impact in ending many radio concerts. But more probable is that the public demand for light classical music changed and popular music became the big fashion. Look at my earlier post on another Detroit News photo showing a WWJ radio band from 1929 - The Gypsy Barons

My contribution to Sepia Saturday
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