A Medley of Horn Players

 

The horn is a brass instrument
that originally began as a long conical tube 
coiled into a kind of hoop shape.
At one end was fixed a small mouthpiece to buzz the lips into

and at the other was a large flared bell to amplify the sound.

It was a simple and uncomplicated instrument
that could play a scattering of useful musical notes.

But the horn's first purpose was less musical and more practical.
It was in a forest that people most often heard its ringing sound,
as horn calls rang through woods and fields
commanding the attention of dogs, horses, and hunters.
Its hoop shape was functional so that a horn
could be easily carried over the shoulder.

But as that simple hunting horn
evolved into the modern horn 
its plumbing got a bit more complicated.  

The horn is the instrument I play
and today I celebrate its history
with a medley of photos
of vintage horn players. 
Their names are unknown
but they are still good friends
whom I'd like you to meet.

Caution!
The following story contains a lot
of geeky technical detail on horn plumbing.
It is probably of little interest to anyone but horn players.
So if it gets too nerdy, skip ahead and just admire the nice pictures.
There are a few dogs.

And a great many mustaches, too.

My first image of an old horn player comes from a colorful illustration on an Austrian postcard. Wearing a leather jacket and Tyrolean hat the man smiles with his eyes, if not his camouflaged mouth,  as he appears to get ready to blow into his horn. Its twisted shape puts the bell on the right and mouthpiece on the left just like a modern horn but this one has no valves and can only play bugle-like harmonic overtones. With careful positioning of the right hand in the bell other chromatic notes are possible but they are muffled and were not needed for this horn player's music. 

The German word for it was Waldhorn or forest horn. It was this type of horn that was used in the 18th and early 19th century by Classical era composers like Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven to add a loud brassy musical color of fanfares and hunting calls to orchestral music. 

The postcard is one of the oldest cards in my collection with a written date of 28/8/1898. At the top the sender wrote "Der Trompeter von Säkkingen". This is a lighthearted reference to a poem written by the German poet and novelist Joseph Victor von Scheffel (1826–1886) which was  later adapted as an opera, The Trumpeter of Säckingen, by Alsation composer Viktor Nessler (1841–1890). This epic poem and dramatic heroic opera is set in 17th-century Heidelberg and Säkkingen, after the Thirty Years' War. It was once very popular and postcard publishers produced hundreds of colorful illustration of the hero Werner blowing a trumpet, not a horn, which is why the sender's caption on the picture of the old Waldhorn player is a subtle ironic joke. (The Trumpeter of Säckingen will return for a future story on the postcard imagery it inspired.)     

The postcard was sent in 1898 to a Fräulein Josefine Celikovsky of Praha\Prague. By coincidence the metal craftsmen who created the first brass hunting horns and Waldhorns were Czechs from Bohemia which was once part of the Austrian empire.

Before we go any further
let's listen to another kind of Waldhorn,
or actually a baker's dozen, called a Parforcehorn.

Here is the Windhag hunting horn club
with “Österreichisches Jägerliedchen”
at a musicians’ meeting in Lower Austria.
Their instrument is a Parforcehorn
which is less compact than a Waldhorn. 
It came in two sizes, pitched in E-flat and B-flat,
but a modern version combines the two
with a single valve hidden on the hoop of brass.
This extra length of plumbing gives it almost a full scale.

This French postcard is captioned: 18. Chasse à Courre en Forét de Fontainebleau - Piquerur sonnant la Curée - Hunting in the Forest of Fontainebleau - Stingers sounding the Kill. Taken outdoors in a wood this photo shows two liveried men playing horns as a pack of large hound dogs wait expectantly for their treat.

In the 16th century the Bohemian horn was introduced in France where it became the instrument that accompanied elaborate hunting events held at royal estates. These "sporting" hunts involved many servants, beaters, trackers, gamekeepers, and packs of hounds who rallied the quarry, usually stags or boar, towards the hunting party of noblemen. Special teams of men were hired to manage both the dogs and the horns. Their raucous horn calls could be heard throughout the estate as each tune announced various special moments in the hunt, like when the stag was spotted or brought to ground, or in this case I think it was time to give the dogs a taste of their prey. 

The hunting horn in France was known as the Trompe (or Cor) de Chasse. Though France ceased being a monarchy in 1871 following the Franco-Prussian War, the old aristocratic hunting traditions continued into the early 20th century when this postcard series of over 70 images was produced. This card has a postmark date of 18 Jul 1927 but I believe the photos date from around 1910. In any case, the tromp de chasse is still heard in the Forest of Fontainebleau in the 21st century as the hunt is now a tourist  event. Stay tuned, I have plans for a future story on the tromp de chasse. 

It is this instrument that gives the horn its accepted American name, French horn, not to be confused with the woodwind instrument, the English horn or the cor anglais as it is known in Britain. Confused? Ask an oboist to explain. 

The French trompe de chasse has a slightly brassier timbre
than the Austrian/German Parforcehorn.
It's a bit longer, pitched a half-step down in D,
and is coiled to allow it to be carried
over the shoulder while riding a horse
or managing a pack of dogs.  
Here is Curée venerie Cheverny -Trompes de chasse.
Wait for the feeding frenzy around 3:40.
{Probably not suited for anyone with a sensitive stomach.}

Music performed by a Trompe de Chasse ensemble was once even popular in French music halls. This act  promoted itself on a postcard with a photo of four members of the Tournée Artistque – Quatuor Hallali de Paris, G. Rochard, directeur. Somehow they combined four trompe de chasse with guitars and mandolins. The card is undated but the style dates to around 1905-1915. 

Sharp eyed readers will notice that in the videos both the trompe de chasse and the Parforce horn are held without placing a hand in the bell. They are called "natural horns" because there are no valves and, in fact, the bell can be held to either the right or left according to the player's choice without changing the sound quality. Some earlier horns were often so large that it was too awkward for a player to do that anyway. 

The most common question asked of horn players is, "Why do you put your right hand in the bell?" The smaller shape of the Waldhorn lets the player use the hand, or really fist, as a kind of mute or stopper to flatten the pitch in order to achieve a full chromatic scale. This was easier to do with the dominant right hand and made a horn more comfortable to hold. For these reasons the modern horn is deliberately made a tiny bit sharp so that the hand must be kept in the bell in order to play in tune and occasionally "stop" the bell for a echo-muting effect. 

This carte de visite photograph is a portrait of a young boy, maybe age 13 to 16, holding a horn with three rotary valves. His name is unknown but the photographer was Herr L. Schmidt of Langestrasse No. 35 in Waren a spa town the state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Germany. The rounded corners and thin card stock are a cdv style from the early 1870s so this is one of my oldest examples of a horn player. His long suitcoat gives him a maturity more than his years, I think. Was he a student musician or a young professional? If you could work in the coal mines at age 14, you could certainly hammer out music in an opera theater pit.

In the early 19th century advances in machine tooling inspired an important new invention for brass instruments—the valve. In Germany, instrument makers developed a quarter turn rotary mechanism, while in France, a sleaved piston design was favored. Both valve types were applied to horns and trumpets which enabled a valve actuated by a player to instantly redirect the air stream carrying the sound waves down an extra length of tubing. After many years of speculative designs instrument makers decided that just three valves of different lengths offered enough combinations to produce a full chromatic range for a brass instrument without any difference in sound quality. This invention created a new age in music for brass instruments. Even some trombonists joined the bandwagon, abandoning their slides for valves. 

In this larger cabinet card photo from the 1890s a man with a splendid mustache and fancy embroidered uniform holds a horn with three piston valves. This was the style favored by hornists in France, Belgium, and Britain too. Yet this man was photographed in Michigan. In the lower right corner is an embossed mark for the photographer,  Will H. Foot of Frlint, Michigan. The horn player's cap has his band's name stitched on it: Campbell F.C.B. which probably stands for the leader of the Flint City Band.

This next portrait is a horn player with another impressive mustache who struck an unusual pose for the camera by raising his left leg up onto a box and resting his horn on his thigh. He is dressed in a formal tailcoat with a black bowtie, so he looks like a professional musician to me. His horn has three rotary valves but the layout of its plumbing is unusual as it reverses the more common arrangement of valves and extra crooks by moving them to the backside of the horn with the main tuning slide on the front. I find the layout weirdly unsettling, like a British right-hand drive car. 

This boudoir size cabinet photo was taken by George Harrison of Orange, New Jersey. 

Analyzing brass plumbing is a habit most horn players acquire. We carefully trace the twists and turns  of tubing searching for the click-click of water condensed inside the horn. We compare the valve action, test the braces, inspect the diameters of slides on different instruments. Even with only 3 valves, the number of different horn designs can be quite varied. For many decades there was a strong rivalry, often a clash of nationalities, between the piston and rotary systems. In this photo we see three different horn layouts presented by three U. S. Army bandsmen. This photo postcard is unmarked but their uniforms with full trousers and leggings and wide brim hats are from the First World War era. The soldiers stand with another soldier on the left who is,  I think, their band's chief musician. 

The hornist on the left has a French or maybe British style piston valve instrument which comes with a separate coil of tubing, a crook, that connects the mouthpiece to the main body of the horn. This crook could be exchanged for a larger or smaller one to change the key of the instrument. Generally by this decade the standard pitch for a horn was in F, but E, E-flat, and D were not uncommon. The bell flare of this horn is also a bit smaller and narrower than the other two.

The center horn player's instrument has three rotary valves just like the hornist on the right, but the pattern of his horn matches a design of a little known German-American brass instrument maker named Reinhard A. Kaempf & Son. This small shop operated in New York City from 1873 to 1911. A few years ago I bought an antique horn identical to this one just because it's an unusual brand with distinctive features unlike other horns. 

The older man on the right, surely the principal horn, has a German style rotary valve horn with the valves on the top and tuning slide below. He has sergeant stripes and may be regular army. 

All the horns in the previous photos are called single horns since they are all in one key, usually F. Uncoiled they are approximately 15 feet long including additional valve crooks. But in modern times instrument makers developed new compact ways to add more plumbing and invented the so-called double horn in F and B-flat. This horn is around 22 feet long with the valve crooks and is the prevailing horn design which is now played around the world. (Except in Austria where orchestras like the Vienna Philharmonic still put their confidence in the traditional single horn.) 

Compared to cornets, trumpets, trombones and tubas, portraits of horn players or horn ensembles are uncommon to rare. It's never been a popular brass instrument perhaps because in band music the horn is an alto voice that gets few solos to shine. However in orchestral music the horn's versatile range and wide dynamics make it the dominant voice in the brass section. Generally a symphony orchestra requires four horns, though sometimes eight or more are needed for very large pieces, while three trumpets and three trombones are sufficient for most orchestral music. 

In this postcard photo we see a proper horn section from an orchestra with a token trumpet player in the center.

The two horns on the left are single horns but have an extra valve operated by the left thumb to add a useful half-step extension. The far left is a horn in F/E-flat and the center left is in B-flat/A. 

The two horns on the right are double horns. The center right one is in F/B-flat with and an extra fifth valve for muting. It has the smaller B-flat crooks on top which is the reverse of how most modern horns are arranged with the F side on top. The far right is a compensating horn in F/B-flat which would be typical style played by a principal horn. Today many principal players use a triple horn in F/B-flat/ high  F which gives security for playing high notes. But they come with at least seven valves which adds another set of fingerings to learn and make the instrument significantly heavier.

The trumpet player's instrument is just a standard B-flat with three rotary valves which was the style used by German and Austrian players a century ago and which continues in our time now.

The postcard has no marks for identifying  the five musicians or dating them but the photographer left an imprint on the back of Hofphotograph Gottmann of Heidelberg, Germany. His full name was Ernst Gottmann (1874–1932) and he operated a studio in Heidelberg from 1889 to 1928 with a specialty in portraits and architectural photography. The print style of this postcard looks 1920s to me, certainly  pre-WWII. Heidelberg, a celebrated university town, has a long history of symphony orchestras and opera that dates from 1839.  

My final vintage photo is a quartet of horn players whose names and location are unknown. They are posed outdoors, perhaps at a theater's cafe. Their horns are placed in an X with crossed mouthpieces and bells on the ground. It's a wonderful photo of four close colleagues, friends who likely worked together many years playing beautiful music. Though it's hard to see all of the horns, at least three are double horns. I'm fairly sure they are German musicians from around 1910-1920. 

Judging by their expressions and posture, I believe the grey haired man seated right is the first horn. His wingman would be the second horn who would sit next to him in the orchestra (which is my position, too). Initially I thought it might be the bearded fellow seated left, but I've changed my mind and now think the tall man standing is the second horn; the short fellow standing left is the third; and the bearded man is the fourth horn, the foundation in any horn section. Their comradery is typical of how musicians feel after playing a big concert or ending a season. Usually there would be a pint of beer or a glass of wine in the picture. Perhaps it commemorates the departure or retirement of one of the horn players. We may never know but it doesn't diminish the artistry of the photo. 

Many years ago my father took a picture of a young horn player marching in a parade for the annual Oyster Bowl football game held in Norfolk, Virginia. That kid is me. 

I was in my sophomore year in high school. The uniform was brand new for the band with a white tunic thing covering a dark green polyester suit. The tall shako came in only two sizes: too small and too big. The outfit replaced an old 1950s wool uniform that smelled of decades of teenage sweat and drycleaner deodorizer. 

My instrument was a single horn that my mother purchased for me when I was in 4th grade and we lived in Frankfurt, Germany where my father, an officer in the U.S. Army, was stationed. My first choice was an alto saxophone, but the saxophone's keys were complicated while the horn looked easier to play. We only stayed there a year and a half before my dad was transferred to Munich. The few music lessons I had taken in Frankfurt were not very productive and being a stubborn kid I balked at getting a new teacher in Munich. Little did I, (or my parents) know then that I was living in the center of my instrument's cultural history. That might have been the end to my interest in music but when we moved to Virginia my mother found a succession of two excellent teachers who lit the musical spark. Playing the horn became fun. It still is. 

That horn now hangs on the wall of my studio and I still play it occasionally for students. Years ago I removed the valves to turn it into a Waldhorn like the one held by the old hornist from 1898. Not only does it let me demonstrate hand horn technique but I can also show how rotary valves work too. Even some of my professional colleagues have never taken apart a valve.

The horn I play professionally is a British made double horn that is now an antique, too, having been my musical tool for 34 years. Earlier this year a colleague took a rare action shot of me during a rehearsal of the Asheville Symphony Orchestra where I am second horn. Now I join my collection of vintage horn players. Thanks for letting me share some of my old friends with you today. 

According to the official Google Blogspot counter, this is the 700th post for my blog. I don't have a count for the number of photos I've written about, but I feel certain it is many, many more than 700. As I discovered soon after I started my blog, TempoSenzaTempo—TimeWithoutTime, in December 2009, it is finding the story hidden behind an old photograph that really motivates me to write about a forgotten age of music and culture. I'm still collecting photos and feel certain I have enough right now to easily make 1001 posts. (And yes, Peter, I still have a plan for a book, too)

I am especially indebted to Alan Burnett whose Sepia Saturday digest has been a source of inspiration for me and countless fellow bloggers who love the sepia magic of old photos. I know it is the delight we take in telling our own stories and the enjoyment of reading other people's tales of long ago families and friends that keeps us blogging. Thanks for sharing.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where everyone is out for a ride on their bike.

Up the Hill, Down the Vale

 

In olden times
horsepower was measured 
by teams of four-footed steeds.
Fueled by hay, barley and oats,
horses once provided people
with dependable transportation
pulling wagons and coaches
over impressive distances
and sometimes challenging terrain.

In our modern times
horsepower has come to mean
something different,
a number defined by engine size
and noxious fuels.
Motorized wagons and coaches
can now carry people farther and faster.
Yet the thrill of travel
still comes down to geography.

Today I present a trip to a remote and exotic place
that has always attracted visitors curious about
its beautiful scenery and warm hospitality,
and one especially steep road.

This colorized postcard shows the Lynton & Minehead Coach at the Ship Inn in Porlock, England. Four white horses are hitched to a handsome stagecoach with at least ten, maybe twelve passengers perched on top. They are stopped outside a celebrated coaching inn at the small village of Porlock in Somerset, England situated on the southern coast of the Bristol Channel. It is about 1½ miles from the sea, though a thousand years ago it was right on the water. The village is about 17 miles east of Lynton and 6 miles west of Minehead. 

I found this postcard when I was looking for another card to add to an order from a postcard seller in Britain. I've always been fascinated by how people used to travel before the age of the automobile and photo postcards of British horse-drawn coaches are not common to find from American postcard dealers. As I soon discovered though, there are hundreds of similar postcards of Porlock's Ship Inn that are all nearly nearly identical except for the the color of the horses. For centuries the narrow road outside the inn has forced photographers to stand in about the same place in order to fit the coach and horse in the camera frame.

This postcard was sent from Weston-super-Mare on 16 October 1907 at 9:15 PM.

Just to wish you a

very happy birthday

&   many of them

Love from

        Mab

The Shipp Inn is situated on the A39, the main road into and out of the village. Unseen behind the photographer, the landscape ascends to Exmoor, a hilly open moorland, now a national natural park, that covers much of west Somerset and north Devon in southwest England. The road to Lynton goes up Porlock Hill which is infamous as the steepest A-road in Britain, (the A signifies a primary roadway in the UK, B roads are minor and for local traffic.) From the Ship Inn the A39 climbs 1,300 ft (400 m) in less than 2 miles (3.2 km) with a gradient of 1 in 4 (25%) in many places. 

In this postcard's bird's eye view, we see a horse-drawn coach filled with people descending the hill. It looks like there are two wagons but I think they are linked together with the second one acting as a brake. The road takes a sharp bend at the bottom of the picture where there is a small space for an emergency pullout. 

This card was sent from Porlock on 26 October 1910 at 7 AM.

                                    I am so awfully sorry we
                        have missed the post this
                        morning.  We forgot to post
                        the letters last night.  How
                        dreadfully sad about poor
                        old Mr Spence  I am so very very
                        sorry a for her too it will
                        be awful for her they were so much
                        to one another.  I am just going to 
                        write to her.  It is not very fine but
                        may clear up later.  Love from 
                                                H. L.

The Ship Inn is one of the oldest hostelries in England with a history going back to the 1400s at least. In earlier centuries it was sea routes and ships, not roads, that really connected people in the British Isles. Porlock, like many fishing villages along England's remote southwest coast, became known for its connection to smuggling and the Ship Inn often served as a haven for black market contraband. 

On this undated photo postcard a coach parked outside the Ship Inn is hitched to six dark horses. The trip from Lynton to Porlock only needed four horses, but for a return going up Porlock Hill, an extra pair was required. Notice the boy, the postillion, astride the front left horse. Even a good driver needed help handling that kind of horse power. To accommodate these coach horses the Ship Inn had a suitably large stable.

This next colorized photo has a coach with four bay horses arriving at Ship Inn. To the right is the stable's hostler ready with a step ladder for passengers to use. There are at least four outside benches atop the coach that look to be between 9 to 12 feet above the dirt road. I don't think there were seat belts. The coach also has an enclosed compartment that presumably was for first class and surely cost extra. 

This card has a postmark of 17 November 1905 at 10 PM from Taunton, Somerset.

Have I ever sent you

this before. Isn't 

it sweet.  It is the

coach we rode on

to Lynton.  Passed

this inn on the 

(?)day.  bid the lo46-

(?)arrone.. Sorry not

have sent it before

                Olive

In the early 19th century more visitors came to Porlock for holidays on the coast or for hunting trips on Exmoor. The road from Lynton to Porlock, that later  became the A39, was first opened in 1843 but the steep hill must have been a deterrent to many tourists and the commercial trade so a few years later an enterprising local landowner decided to build an alternate road and charge a toll. This 4.2-mile scenic route, which offers panoramic views of Bristol Channel, has a lower gradient of 1 in 14 (7%). Surprisingly after it was built most horse-drawn wagons used Porlock Hill instead since it was free. However once motorcars became the new horseless carriages, the toll road proved a good deal as most early automobiles were too underpowered for Porlock Hill's steeper slope.

In this illustration three automobiles and a charabanc, an open-top motor coach for tourists, creep up or careen down Porlock Hill. The road appears to be unpaved with a dirt or gravel surface. The postcard has no postmark but the car styles look early 1920s to me. 

Dear John,

    This is a "bend" on one

of the hills we had to push

our bicycles up.  When

we were at the bottom

an old country man told

us "It be moil–n–arf

long," but we 

had to plod

along for about

3–n–arf miles

before we could

remount the faithful

steeds.  We are at Lawrence's

cottage now and the weather

has brightened up.

It has been hot 

and sunny to-day

Love from us all   Sylvia

P.S.  Please keep these cards for the album.

_ _ _

In this next photo postcard of Porlock Hill a single motor coach with luggage strewn on its top drives up the slope and there are clearly ruts in the road. The hill has been the cause of countless accidents. Along the narrow road there are two escape lanes to handle runaway vehicles that suffer brake failures. This card is postmarked 20 July 1927.

 

My last postcard is another colorized bird's eye-view photo captioned, "The Steep Gradient of Porlock Hill (1 in 4)". The road is paved with center marking lines as two automobiles follow a bus. A house with a front garden is just on the edge of a bend in the road, no doubt serving occasionally as an emergency safety net. 

This postcard was sent from Minehead, Somerset on 9 May 1956 at 8:30 PM to P.C. & Mrs. Rands of the village of Crick in in West Northamptonshire near Rugby. 

Wednesday

    We are having a lovely

holiday & enjoying the 

beautiful scenery.  I think

you will remember this

hill.  We came down it

in the old car but sighed

with relief when we got to the

bottom.  The weather today

is dull & rainy but up to 

now its been warm &

sunny.

            Kindest regards

            B & D Pattison

I have never been to Porlock or Exmoor but I have driven many times in just about every other part of the British Isles. It began many years ago when my bride and I set off from London for a honeymoon trip to the Hebrides off western Scotland. Until that day after our wedding I had actually never driven a car in Britain and I was far more nervous about driving than about getting married. And at the time my wife had never needed to drive car. However she did know the rules of British roads from cycling experience. (Her first driving lesson was behind the wheel of my Toyota truck, manual shift, on Georgia roads.) 

I soon learned several things about British roads. First, as best as I can tell, there are no straight roads anywhere that can go more than 5 or 10 miles without encountering a roundabout. Second, while traffic on motorways can be very fast, on the minor B-roads it is usually very, very, slow. And incredibly narrow. The big island of Britain is approximately 600 miles from the tiptop of Scotland to the southern Channel coast of England but driving that distance is not like an equivalent distance in America. In Britain every route is filled with twists and turns that require an expert navigator to figure out. Fortunately I married one. The beauty of roundabouts is that you can go round as often as you like until deciding which road to take, 

I presently live in western North Carolina, one of the mountainous regions of the United States, where our minor roads are both pretty twisty and often steep. But I can't think of any road that has a 1:4  gradient or is as celebrated on postcards as much as Porlock Hill and the Ship Inn have. I think these charming cards are all about the romance of adventure travel. It's one thing to brag about seeing a beautiful tropical beach or visiting a magnificent palace. But not many people can say I've driven, ridden, or walked up/down Porlock Hill and have the postcard to prove it. 

Promoting tourism is partly about making myths that linger on in collective memory. The original roadmakers in Porlock were probably only trying to save money by eliminating a few switchbacks. They'd be amazed to learn their precipitous road continues to captivate the imagination of British drivers today and still provide a cheap thrill just as it once did for tourists traveling on open stagecoaches. 

Porlock  

by Robert Southey (1774 – 1843)

 

                    Porlock! thy verdant vale so fair to sight,

                    Thy lofty hills which fern and furze imbrown,

                    The waters that roll musically down

                    Thy woody glens, the traveller with delight

                    Recalls to memory, and the channel grey

                    Circling its surges in thy level bay.

                    Porlock! I shall forget thee not,

                    Here by the unwelcome summer rain confined;

                    But often shall hereafter call to mind

                    How here, a patient prisoner, 'twas my lot

                    To wear the lonely, lingering close of day,

                    Making my sonnet by the alehouse fire,

                    Whilst Idleness and Solitude inspire

                    Dull rhymes to pass the duller hours away.

Robert Southey (1774 – 1843) was an English poet of the Romantic school, one of the so-called Lake Poets, and was Britain's Poet Laureate from 1813 until his death. Among many things he wrote was the first published story of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears". He also visited Porlock and probably stayed at the Ship Inn where he enjoyed a pint or two of ale by its fire. 

In our wonderful modern era 
we can experience riding up Porlock Hill
from the comfort of our own computer screen.
Here is Extreme Hill Climb: Exmoor Coaster up Porlock Hill
filmed from the front of the coach by OrsomM.
For a thrill watch out for marker 4:28 when the driver
encounters an oil slick on a steep curve.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where everyone is taking the bus.

Double the Fun with the Beverly Twins' Orchestra

 

To the Hannon Twins

Dorothy & Margaret

cute

identical

smart

shapely

18

not conceited

swell

W. B.

S. B.

I don't usually collect this type of photograph. The two young saxophonists have beautifully engraved instruments, alto and tenor saxes made by the C. G. Conn Company. They are quite debonair young men with wild wavy hair. But it's still a common 8" x 10" glossy photo that was usually reproduced by the thousands to promote a pop star. Their name printed on the bottom border was unfamiliar. At a casual glance they looked like a pair of sidemen for a big band that probably no one ever heard of.  

But then I spotted their inscription and signatures to Dorothy and Margaret. That attracted my attention and made me curious about their band. These guys certainly looked like identical brothers. What was that all about?

Then I found this next photograph from the same dealer.
Walter and Sol were in it but without their instrument.
They had signed this photo, too,
along with nearly everyone else.

That gave the photos a unique quality
worthy of my collection.

Today I'm going to tell the story 
of Walter and Sol Brudno
featured in
The Beverly Twins and the All Twin Orchestra.

Both photos have the official logo for the band's management agency, MCA – Music Corporation of America. Founded in 1924 as a booking agency by Jules Stein and William R. Goodheart, Jr., by the end of the 1930s this company was the largest talent agency in the world. In addition to musical artists, it represented hundreds of celebrities working on Broadway, in Hollywood, and on radio. From its early years MCA quickly developed an aggressive business model that bought out the competition and expanded into so many other areas of the entertainment industry that it earned a nickname "The Octopus". Today its successor company is Universal Pictures now known as Comcast NBCUniversal. 

But back in the 1930s and 40s the biggest live acts in America were dance bands playing swing  jazz and MCA promoted dozens of big bands, or "orchestras" as they were often called, like those of Xavier Cugat, Gene Krupa, Tommy Dorsey and Kay Kyser. These two photographs were taken at the studio of James J. Kriegsmann (1909–1994), in his day one of the foremost photographers of entertainers in New York City. Photos like his don't come cheap. Someone at the MCA agency thought this unusual ensemble merited a serious investment.   

In February 1941 MCA made a contract to book dates for the Beverly Twin's All Twins Orchestra. Their first major venue was in New York City at the Arcadia "million dollar ballroom" on Broadway and 53rd Street. Entrance was 55¢ for ladies and 65¢ for gentlemen, no extra charge for dancing. And as a special attraction for this band, "All twins admitted free before 9 P. M."

New York City Daily News
26 March 1941

As the MCA publicity machine went to work, the Beverly Twins Orchestra's appearance in New York was reported in newspapers all across the country. Among many hooks that followed the twin concept was their theme song cover of "Exactly Like You" a song from the 1930 Broadway show Lew Leslie's International Revue with music by Jimmy McHugh and lyrics by Dorothy Fields. 

This tune remains a dance band standard and has been recorded many times by different artists, even as recently as 2021. Here's a version recorded in New York on 26 March 1937 for Decca Records and played by the Count Basie Orchestra with Count Basie on piano and Jimmy Rushing doing the vocals. The video has no film or pictures, so press play for some music to listen to as you continue reading the story. 

The Arcadia Ballroom in New York City doesn't seem to have any history online that I could find, so its timeline is unknown. It seems to have opened in the 1920s and was still in operation in the 1950s, but other than that I can't offer much more. It was located right in the heart of Broadway's theater district and is now the site of the Broadway Theatre and just a short walk from the Ed Sullivan Theater. 

But I did find this colorful vintage postcard of the Arcadia ballroom interior which gives an idea of how a band would set up. The description on the back notes that it is "the most spacious dance floor in all New York ... is not obstructed by pillars or posts; air conditioned; new scientific ventilating system assures purity of air at all times."   "Matinee Dansants (sic) Sunday, Wednesday, Saturday, and Holidays."

The postcard was sent on 8 November 1941 by a soldier from Fort Bragg, North Carolina to Miss Edith Butti of Woodside, Long Island.

 Hello Edith                             
 Guess you heard I'm
on maneuvers.  It's a nice place
for beauty.  Hope your feeling fine.
Regards to all.   Harry —       
May be home in a      
month.  

One month latter, America was at war,
so it was probably some time before Harry made it back home. 

The Billboard
19 April 1941

In April 1941 the Beverly Twins' performance at the Arcadia got reviewed in The Billboard, the national magazine for the entertainment industry. The writer uses a lot of showbiz lingo but gives the group a favorable critique noting that: 

    "Twins tootle a very commercial and danceable brand of stuff, and strive to please with a versatile library consisting of can-can congas, pop ballads, swinger-dingers, and waltzes.  Entire ork plays with youthful enthusiasm.  Arrangements, for the most part, are good; and the doubling of two of the sax men on brass, plus another switch of a brass man on sax, gives added flexibility.  At this point, band does its best job on the swing stuff, but some more months together will no doubt round them out.

    "Song department is handled solely by the Beverlys, whose voices are as much alike as their looks.  They do a good straight job on the vocal choruses.  Boys should loosen up more on their dual batoneering to dispel automaton-like impression. Biz of dressing the sets of twins in various colored jackets is smart showmanship, and the same motif is also carried out with the music stands, each bearing the respective color scheme plus the first name of each.  Exploitation possibilities, of course are infinite with an outfit such as this.

    "It's a co-op outfit thruout, each set of look-alikes having a hunk of the ork. Line-up includes, besides the Beverlys, Myron and Harry Robbins on trumpet and trombone;  Russ and Bill Whalen, trumpet and trombone;  Jim and Joe McCarthy, saxes;  Walter and Sol Brudno, saxes;  Rodger and Rodney Harmon, bass and guitar;  and Ben and Sol Marcus, piano and drums."

That last paragraph with the musicians' names was the kind of treasure I often seek but rarely find when doing research on photos in my collection. In this case it corroborated the signatures on the band's photo and, more importantly, identified each man's instrument which was absent in the formal studio photograph of the group.

The Beverly Twins, seated center, Don on the left and Gene on the right, were the duo co-leaders of the All Twins Orchestra band which they themselves originated. According to several reports their idea for a band of twin musicians came about as early as 1934, after they had dropped a notion of becoming Catholic priests. After searching the country for seven years they had supposedly hired the best musical twin brothers for this unique ensemble. 

Jacksonville FL Times-Union
28 June 1941

Gene and Don were identical twins who had won first prize at a New Jersey contest for "most identical twin." They oviously had musical talent but not as instrumentalists. In their orchestra/band they performed as either conductor or as a vocalist and hired a non-twin musician to make their arrangements.

The two Beverlys shared a mutual receding hairline and look older than they actually were. Their birthday was 25 June 1915, so in the winter 1940-41 when they secured a contract with MCA they were only age 25. 

Tracking down that "most identical twin" contest was not too difficult and paid off with a very thorough newspaper report and some photos too. The contest was held on 17 June 1939 in Camden, New Jersey, just across the Delaware River from Philadelphia, by the Camden Courier-Post newspaper. The Beverlys, the two young men "most alike", won a $25 prize and were pictured with a brother-sister duo, Leroy and Dorothy Garmen, who took home a prize for the "least alike twins."

Camden NJ Evening Courier
18 June 1939

The report revealed a lot about the ambitions of the Beverly Twins. Four years earlier they had  formed a band of seven twins, including themselves, but circumstances had forced them to break up the group. They had given up becoming priests and now hoped one day to marry twin sisters. Their latest dream was to get their pilots licenses, buy an airplane, and fly across the Atlantic,  becoming the first twins, if not brothers, to do so. 

But more revealing, but not explained, was that their surname was originally Barcik, not Beverly. They were "the sons of Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Barcik...born in Camden June 25, 1915." Using these very useful clues I determined that their first names, Don and Gene, were not original either. One brother was Andrew Method Barcik and the other Frank Cyrill Barcik. The twins were the youngest of six children of Andrew and Sophie Barcik, who immigrated in 1904 and 1903 respectively from  what was called Czechoslovakia in the 1930 Census. Both spoke Slovak as their native language. Around their home in N. Fourth St. their neighbors spoke German, Romanian, Russian, Polish, and Slovak. Andrew Senior worked as a freight loader at a railroad yard. 

In the 1940 Census the family had moved to Marsden St. in Philadelphia to live with a daughter and her husband. Andrew Senior and his twin sons worked at a butcher shop. However on their draft card, completed in October 1940, both Frank and Andrew Junior put down "Self" for employer .

The Beverly/Barcik brothers claimed to have written some songs and clearly had talent as singers, but no report described them as instrumentalists. How they learned to be suave band leaders in white tie and tails after laboring at a butcher shop was never explained. And I've been unable to discover why they changed their names. Sometimes ambition alone can make its own luck.  

The two saxophonists with the amazing wavy hair, Walter and Sol Brudno, stand on the right in the group photo with their autographs written across their light color tailcoats. They were born on 22 January 1921 in Cleveland, Ohio, so in this photo they are age 20. They were the twin sons of Phillip and Lillian Brudno, both identified as Russian-Jewish immigrants in the 1930 Census. Phillip listed his occupation as an egg dealer. On their draft cards completed in February 1942, both brothers listed no middle name and gave their father's name as their employer.

Standing to the left of the Brudno twins, was Rodney and Roger Harmon, who played bass and guitar in the All-Twin Orchestra. They were from Cincinnati, Ohio where they were born on 21 July 1918 to  Frank and Clara Harmon. In the 1930 census Frank worked as a mail clerk for a railroad and he and his wife also had a daughter and son older than their twins. But like the Beverly/Barcik twins, the Harmon twins had an alternative name. According to their draft cards, completed in October 1941, Rodney was actually Alfred Earl Harmon and his brother was Rodger Clark Harmon. 

The fourth set of twins, seated right in the photo was Russell and Bill Whalen, who played trumpet and trombone. They were from Superior, Wisconsin where they were born on 18 March 1920. They were the sons of Edna and George W. Whalen. George worked as an electrician in Superior, which is located on Lake Superior across the St Louis River from Duluth, Minnesota.   

The Whalen brothers filled out their draft card on 1 July 1941, earlier than the other men, and the form is different with a box for occupation. Both Russell August Whalen and his brother William Robert Whalen listed their occupation as Musician and their employer as The Beverly Twins or Gene and Don Beverly, Music Corp. of America. 

Lowell MA Sun
18 April 1941

On the day of the Beverly Twins' All-Twin Orchestra photo shoot, Mr. Kriegsmann's studio must stayed pretty busy sorting out the pairs of musicians. In April 1941 the newspaper in Lowell, Massachusetts ran a variation of their group photo. The band's formal outfits were colored-coded, of course, though unfortunately Kriegsmann's camera only recorded sepia tones. Having some of the twins sign their names on the photo was very helpful as otherwise I might never have figured out who was who. The Billboard review proved crucial in making certain I got all their identities straight. However some names still remain hidden.

Seated left of the Beverly twins is Harry and Myron Robbins, who filled out the brass section on trombone and trumpet respectively. In the photo only Myron Robbins signed his name and his brother Harry on the far left did not. My investigation on their names hit the most common obstacle in family research: too many people who share the same name. I tried several methods in both civil records and in newspaper archives and still failed to find a pair of brothers who fit. My best hope was a survey of WW2 draft cards which include date of birth, but none of the dozens of Myrons and Harrys shared the same birthday. Nonetheless I still hope to track them down.

On the back left are Sol and Ben Marcus, part of the rhythm section with Ben on piano and Sol on drums. Only Ben signed his name. Like the Robbins twins, the Marcus twins turned out to have too many duplicates in the archives and I've been unable to properly identify them. Without clues for their hometown or family background they remain partly concealed with a name only. 

The Beverly twins were reported to be active in the International Twins Association. This organization was established by and for twins in 1932 as a way to promote the spiritual, intellectual, and social welfare of twins and multiples throughout the world. I suspect Don/Andrew Gene/Frank used their connection in this social organization to recruit musicians for their orchestra. It's quite likely that none of the twins knew anyone else when they started their first rehearsal. 

Standing left of center are twins who did not add their autographs to the photo. By the process of elimination, they must be Jim and Joe McCarthy, the other two saxophone players in the band. Their names are arguably two of the most common names in America and I didn't expect I would  be able to track them down. But I discovered a photo of the Beverly Twins Orchestra on Flickr that had comments from descendants of both the Harmon twins and the McCarthy twins. One relation wrote that the McCarthy's were from Des Moines, Iowa. That was all I needed.

James Anthony McCarthy and Joseph Thomas McCarthy were born in Des Moines on 2 January 1917. When they registered for the draft in October 1940 they both listed the "Beverly Twins" as their employer located at the same Marsden St. address in Philadelphia which Andrew and Frank Barcik  listed as their home. Both cards for the McCarthy twins also had a penciled address added on 8/5/1941 of the "Hotel Roosevelt, Jacksonville, Florida."  

The dates suggest that the Beverly twins were working on their idea of this new all-twin band at least from the fall of 1940, maybe earlier. Putting together a band of any kind, much less one restricted to identical twins, requires careful recruitment to get good talent. Don and Gene must have traveled a lot to audition all these musicians and probably even more for those that didn't measure up.

Jacksonville FL Times-Union
18 August 1941

After the Beverly Twins Orchestra had played New York for a few weeks and polished up their  show they were sent out on concert tour. The MCA agency booked them in dancehall parks in Dayton, Ohio; Hershey, Pennsylvania; Patterson, New Jersey and possibly a few other smaller venues in between. By July 1941 they were on the bill of the Hotel Roosevelt in Jacksonville, Florida. Written on the back of both my photos of the All-Twin Orchestra and the Brudno brothers is "1941 Roosevelt Hotel."

Originally named the Carling Hotel, this 13 story deluxe hotel opened in 1926 and was described as: "300 rooms with bath, running ice water, fans and the latest equipment in the rooms. The three lower stories are faced with Indiana limestone above which is a shaft of red brick. The upper stories are trimmed with terra-cotta, and surmounted by a balustrade with limestone coping. The building is of completely fireproof construction." That last claim would get challenged a few decades later. 

In 1936 the name was changed to Hotel Roosevelt and it became a popular lodging with visitors to Jacksonville which was then the principal gateway to Florida's resorts. No doubt the Beverly Twins Orchestra traveled there by train as did most people in the decades before the interstate roadways were built in the 1960s. However playing a concert in Jacksonville in July was literally a hot date, as in this era it was the mild winters without snow that brought northern tourists to Florida, not the sweltering summer sunshine.  Fortunately the Hotel Roosevelt dance patio was indoors with air conditioning. 

Jacksonville FL Times-Union
9 July 1941

The Beverly Twins really pushed the novelty of their all-twins orchestra. One of the reasons each pair wore formal suits in same color was that during their show each twin would switch instruments making the audience guess who was who. In New York, and probably for other shows, admission was advertised as free for twins. During their two weeks at the Arcadia ballroom it was reported that 350 sets of twins came to see them play. And in Jacksonville they added a Twin Contest, open to all. This was the event that the Hannon twins, Dorothy and Margaret entered when they caught the eye of the Brudno brothers. 

Jacksonville FL Times-Union
11 July 1941

I couldn't find a report of who won the contest for most identical twin, but judging from the Hannon twins' graduation picture in the Jacksonville newspaper they look hard to beat. I wonder if Dorothy and Margaret wore their caps and gowns for the contest. Even in the grainy scan the sisters have winning smiles. 

Providence RI Evening Bulletin
12 August 1941

In August 1941, the Beverly Twins Orchestra got a big break when they were invited to play on a popular Sunday evening radio show, The Bandwagon, over NBC Radio's Red Network. The location of their half-hour concert is not clear, but I think it's possible it was picked up from the Hotel Roosevelt in Jacksonville. For Don and Gene Beverly this must have been a fantastic prize, bigger even than winning a "most identical twin" contest. 

But their showbiz success was marred by a new concern which was affecting every young man in America in the summer of 1941. It was the military draft. This law, the Selective Training and Service Act, signed by President Roosevelt on September 16, 1940, started the first peacetime conscription in the history of the United States. It required all men between 21 and 35 to register with the Selective Service System. After the German army had defeated French and British forces in Hitler's invasion of France in the summer of 1940, America was reluctantly realizing that it would soon need to join the war against European fascism. In August 1941 many men were already being called up for basic training. This was an obligation of 12 months military service, which by October was to be extended by another 18 months. 

The Beverly brothers believed their band faced a very difficult hardship should one or more of their musicians, including themselves, be called up. Replacing twins was not easy. They decided to apply for a deferment for the band, and it seems from the publicity that they were supported by the MCA agency. This concern was shared by many groups in the entertainment industry, from orchestras to circuses, who recognized that their acts would be in serious jeopardy if they lost team members with special talents and skills.  

Whether the Beverlys were ever granted a deferment was not reported in the newspapers, and by December 7th, 1941 with the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Americans suddenly had far more important things to think about. The All-Twins Orchestra seems to have played their last show in early September 1941 and then disbanded. In the 31 January 1942 edition of Billboard magazine it was noted that many dance bands like that of the Dorsey brothers (not twins) were losing their sidemen. "The Beverly Twins' orchestra, composed of seven sets of twins, has already been wrecked, with seven of the 14 now in the armed forces." Even band leaders were close to being called up. 

By the winter of 1941-42, all the twins returned to their hometowns, scattered around the country. Most, if not all, (since I don't know the full history for two of the seven twins) would enter military service for the duration of the war. Again I am not certain, but I believe, that all of the men completed their duty without harm and with an honorable discharge. Whether any of them pursued a music career after 1945 is unknown. I do know that the Beverly/Barcik brothers returned to their original names and chose different paths in life. I don't think they ever got to fly an airplane across the Atlantic Ocean. But for a few months in 1941 they and six other talented twin brothers got to have double the fun playing music. 

One of the consequences of the war for America's entertainment industry was the dramatic change in the public's taste for popular music. Dance bands like the Beverly Twins' Orchestra did not disappear entirely after 1945 but swing music now competed with a much wider variety of music styles that included jazz, blues, western, country, and soon rock & roll. The competition for the public's ear was fierce, and was now largely driven by Americans listening to music through recordings and radio broadcasts instead of at live concerts. When a radio broadcast allowed young people in Nebraska to hear the latest club music from New York, Chicago, or Los Angeles just by turning a dial of their radio set, their enthusiasm for live music naturally was diminished a bit. By the 1950s the novelty of seeing seven sets of twins perform music of the 1930s had worn off. As the music and songs changed everyone began dancing to the beat of a new and different drummer. 

  Footnote:  

On the morning of 29 December 1963 a fire broke out in the Hotel Roosevelt, supposedly a fireproof structure. Some time before, during renovations to the hotel, its ballroom's old wooden ceiling, which had been deemed a fire hazard, was covered with a new ceiling without removing the old one. An electrical fault sparked a fire there which quickly spread through the building. Though many people were rescued, some saved from the rooftop by the use of Navy helicopters, 22 people perished in the fire, mostly from carbon monoxide poisoning. It became the worst disaster in the city of Jacksonville's history. While I can't be certain, I believe the ballroom was the same danceroom where the Beverly Twins' Orchestra played in 1941. 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where sometimes one pair will beat a full house.