This is a blog about music, photography, history, and culture.
These are photographs from my collection that tell a story about lost time and forgotten music.

Mike Brubaker
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Showing posts with label piano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label piano. Show all posts

Mr. J. Elmer Spyglass

14 December 2025

 
As with many of my stories,
we begin with an image.
What do we see?
A handsome young man
sits at a concert grand piano.
Dressed in an impeccable 
formal suit of white tie and tails,
with a carnation, white stockings and opera pump shoes,
he looks direct at the camera lens, confident and relaxed.  
It's the bearing of a professional entertainer.

His photo postcard has no date or message
and was never posted.
Yet it posed a question to me. 
Where did this man perform?
He may be a vocalist of an "international" quality,
but from his dress and demeanor
he did not fit the stereotype of a vaudeville balladeer ,
and clearly considered himself a high-class artist. 
He was also a Black musician. 

His name was:

J. Elmer Spyglass, Tenor—Bariton.
 
International.


For many years my question had no answer.
And then I found another card that only added to the intrigue. 




This second postcard is a copy of the first with the same caption but printed in a lower grade halftone. However in the corner was a rare signature and date that caught my attention. 

Kindest Regards

from

J. Elmer  Spyglass

May 28, 1913



This date placed him in the pre-World War One era. But the back of the card was blank except for the printed word Postkarte—German for postcard, so maybe he was from Germany. But for one obvious reason that seemed unlikely.


And then I found him.

In Pittsburgh. 


Pittsburgh Press
13 October 1901

An illustration of him appeared in the 13 October 1901 edition of the Pittsburgh Press. "Prof. J. Elmer Spyglass, whose cut adorns these columns, will make his final appearance as a chorus director in this city Monday evening, at the valedictory concert [for a retiring pastor] to be given at Bethel A. M. E. Church, corner of Wylie avenue and Elm street.  During his stay in the city Mr. Spyglass has rendered yeoman service in elevating the standard of music among the race, and he will carry away with him the warmest commendations of a host of friends among all classes of people.  The program is almost entirely made up of operatic selections, and a musical treat is in store for all who may attend." 

James Elmer Spyglass was born in Springfield, Ohio on 1 November 1877. In the 1880 census his parents were Augustus Spyglass, age 33 and his wife Elizabeth, age 32. Augustus was a blacksmith but evidently a musician too and he is credited with teaching his son the basics of music and how to play piano and organ at their church. By the age of 12, Elmer, as he was usually called, was singing in the church choir where he formed an ambition to make a career in music. 

In about 1898 after graduating from high school Elmer moved to Toledo, Ohio, about 130 miles north of Springfield, where he found work in various menial jobs with a hope to raise funds for proper music lessons. Toledo was then a very prosperous city with over two dozen bands, orchestras, and choirs, many of them associated with Toledo's large German immigrant community.  

His vocal talents and knack for leadership led him to positions directing church choirs in Springfield, Toledo, and briefly in Pittsburgh where in 1901 he won enough notice to merit a picture in the newspaper. 

In March 1902, J. Elmer Spyglass, age 24, married Mary Alice Stewart, age 23, of Springfield. They set up home in Toledo where Elmer was employed as a shipping clerk at a large jewelry store owned by Mr. Jacob J. Freeman, a prominent businessman of the city. Over the next few years Elmer Spyglass directed musical services at different churches and with amateur choral groups. Most of these programs were of sacred music, something similar to  gospel singing but more like older spirituals, I think. 



Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875 – 1912)
circa: 1895—1905
Source: Wikimedia


In May 1904 Elmer led a performance of sections of Hiawatha's Wedding Feast, a secular cantata by the British composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor (1875–1912). The composer, who was Black, a child of an English woman and a Creole man from Sierra Leone, was very popular with African-American communities in the United States. 

This concert of Hiawatha's Wedding Feast in May 1904 was sung by a Coleridge-Taylor Choral Society from Toledo, a group made entirely of black singers. Following the performance the singers presented Elmer with "an adjustable baton" in appreciation of his services. 










Later that year in November Samuel Coleridge-Taylor made his first tour of America. In Washington D.C. he conducted this work with a large choir and the U.S. Marine Band. He was accorded a special honor meeting President Theodore Roosevelt at the White House. 

According to his Wikipedia entry: "Coleridge-Taylor's father Daniel Taylor was descended from African-American slaves who were freed by the British and evacuated from the colonies at the end of the American War of Independence; some 3,000 of these Black Loyalists were resettled in Nova Scotia. Others were resettled in London and the Caribbean. In 1792 some 1200 blacks from Nova Scotia chose to leave what they considered a hostile climate and society, and moved to Sierra Leone, which the British had established as a colony for free blacks." 

While working at Freeman's jewelry store Elmer's singing voice attracted the attention of Bradford Mills, the founder and director of the new Toledo Conservatory of Music. Mills encouraged Elmer to apply to the school and he was accepted. Evidently the school admitted Black students, both men and women, I believe, an opportunity available for African-Americans in Ohio and other northern states but not in southern states which remained segregated up until the 1950s and 1960s.


Wauseon OH Republican
29 July 1904

Mr. Mills, the school's director, also taught singing, one of four courses of study for this small conservatory which included pianoforte, violin, and dramatic art. The conservatory presented regular student recitals and hosted visiting concert artists as well. In 1905 the conservatory engaged an noted Italian tenor, Signor Piero Gheradi to teach opera at the school. Elmer quickly became a favored singer there and was featured in several concerts. Music programs focused on German and Italian opera repertoire and Elmer was a frequent soloist. 


Toledo Conservatory of Music, circa 1905
Source: Wikimedia

In 1906, J. Elmer Spyglass and his wife Mary arranged to travel to Europe to further Elmer's vocal studies. He gave a few benefit concerts and his employer, Mr. Jacob J. Freeman, helped with some financial support. They arranged to stop at several cities on the way to New York where Elmer would sing. 

They set sail on June 19th 1906 for Liverpool. Elmer hoped to meet Samuel Coleridge-Taylor in London and later find a voice teacher in Berlin or Paris. When they arrived they discovered that Europe was nothing like Springfield. 



At this distance in time, it's unclear how long Elmer and Mary stayed in England. We don't know if Elmer ever met Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, who tragically died of pneumonia in September 1912 at age 37.  The Spyglasses did send word back to Ohio of their safe arrival in Liverpool but their next destination was Berlin, arguably the center of music for aspiring American vocalists of the time. 


Cleveland Gazette
11 May 1907

In April 1907 Elmer wrote to the Cleveland Gazette, an African American newspaper, that he had "an engagement to sing Dom Pedro in Meyerbeer's grand opera "Africanerin" next October in the Lortzing theatre, Berlin.  I am told that this honor has never been  accorded a Negro."  Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791–1864) was a German composer and his L'Africaine (The African Woman) was the last of his 19 operas. It was originally written in 1837 but later revised to tell a fictional account of the life of Portuguese explorer Vasco da Gama. The full score to the revised opera was copied just the day before Meyerbeer died in 1864. It premiered in 1865 at the Paris opera house.




Toledo Blade
2 May 1907





The Toledo Blade newspaper, having reported so many times before on J. Elmer Spyglass's talent ran a longer article on this special honor he received to sing in grand opera. They even ran a new photo. It noted that he was now at "Frankfort-on-the-Main where he writes enthusiastically of his musical studies and the progress he has made."




Later that summer it was reported that Mary, and presumably Elmer, were in Paris. But that Fall there were no follow-up reports or reviews from Berlin.  



+ + +


Instead Elmer took to the music hall stage. In February 1908 he wrote to the Toledo Blade:  
"I find it more profitable to sing in vaudeville, and that is why I have abandoned the idea of appearing in grand opera in Berlin.  I have met with considerable success and expect to remain in Germany for some time,  possibly making a brief visit to America this summer.  I have sung every night for more than a year and am glad to say my voice has grown better every day, for which I owe much to Hen. Julius Lieban, of Berlin, and Jean De Reske, of Paris." 



 J. Elmer Spyglass
International lyric Baritone
Repertoire: English, Deutsch, Français, Italiano.
Treedt voor de eerste maal op in Rotterdam,
Concert en Variete=Lokaal "Scala"
~
Appearing for the first time in Rotterdam,
at the Concert and Variety Hall "Scala".


This postcard of J. Elmer Spyglass is the same photo that the Toledo newspaper used in 1907. He is dressed in a European formal suit with one hand in a pocket to display a medal pinned to his waistcoat. It also has a signature of quick initials and date in the corner:  

Rt (Rotterdam) 18/12 08 JES. 

The postcard was send on 18 December 1908 from Rotterdam to someone in 
Vianen, a city in the central Netherlands, in the province of Utrecht. 




                    Klaasnu 18 December 1908.
    
            Lieve zus,
            Naar aanleiding van uw jongste schrijven heb
            ik de eer U te berichten dat ik
            a.s. Donderdag te 1.18 Greenwich
            tijd aan het Centraal Station te
            Utrecht hoop aan te komen.
            Stallencourt zal wel niet meegaan,
            denk ik; hij schijnt niet
            goed meer te durven aangezien
            hij nu al 2× bij ons geweest is.
            In ieder geval schrijf ik nog
            zodra de beslissing gevallen is.
            Na hartelijk groet van allen,
                            [unreadable]
                                    ~
                    Klaasnu, 18 December 1908.
            Dear sister,
            In response to your latest letter,
            I have the honor of informing you that I
            hope to arrive next Thursday
            at 1:18 Greenwich time
            at the Central Station
            in Utrecht.
            Stallencourt will probably not come along,
            I think; he seems no longer
            to dare, since he has already been with us twice.
            In any case, I will write again as soon
            as the decision has been made.
            Warm greetings from everyone,
                            [signature unreadable]
This transcription of Dutch handwriting
and translation into English
was made using ChatGPT.
It "read" an image file of the message
and produced a text file in 10 seconds.


In the spring of 1909, Elmer Spyglass announced that he and his wife would return to America that summer. His success was certainly not on the stage that he originally hoped for, but it was a success just the same. When they were finally back in Toledo, Elmer gave a recital at the Warren A.M.E. Church on 16 June 1909. He sang "The Toreador from Carmen; the Serenade from Gounod; Der Lenz by Hekdach; Abend Sterne from Tannhauser, and Greeting." He said he "had been booked for engagements abroad until 1912, having forty weeks' engagements in England."

A month later in July, Elmer's former employer Mr. Jacob J. Freeman and his wife  hosted a private musicale at their home. Elmer's program began with opera arias by Bizet, Wagner, Leoncavello. The second part were five folk songs including Old Black Joe, My Way to Heav'n, and My Old Kentucky Home. The third part were all German lieder. "In rooms prettily trimmed with pink roses and asters, and on the spacious veranda, which was gay with Japanese lanterns, sixty guests enjoyed the affair."



J. Elmer Spyglass, Lyrischer Bariton.
Zweite Tournee in Europa.
Repertoir: English,  English, Français, Deutsch, Italiano


My fourth photo postcard shows Elmer Spyglass in another handsome 3/4 standing portrait. Like the first postcards he is wearing white tie and tails. There is no piano but he holds white gloves, another mark of a high class gentleman. Unlike the previous card which was in Dutch, this caption is in German. The card was never posted but it shares qualities with the others to date it around 1908-1910.




By the fall of 1909 Elmer was back in England, but without his wife Mary. It seems their marriage could not hold under the stress of Elmer building his career as an international entertainer, especially in such strange foreign cultures. I could not determine if Mary Spyglass had any musical talent to accompany her husband on stage. It seems likely though that she found languages a big obstacle while traveling around Europe. And of course as a Black woman, her interaction with European bigotry, racism, and sexism would have been very different than Elmer's. Such personal details will always remain private but whatever the reason, after 1910 Mary disappears from J. Elmer Spyglass life.  
 

London Daily Record & Mail
19 September 1910

Elmer must have had an agency help with his bookings, as over the next year he had a lot of engagements in Britain.  He appeared in music hall theaters in Ireland, Wales, the Midlands, and London. In September 1910 he played at London's Empire Theatre, one step down from the headliner, Serene Nord, the Diving Venus. Serene was an American too, from California, and readers may remember my story on her in  The Special Swimsuit Edition

Elmer was the class act, though as a Black performer, he was also exotic, too. His specialty was as an interpreter of "Negro Spirituals", though he likely added national songs familiar to his audiences. I've not found any reference that he toured with an accompanist. He probably depended on a house pianist or orchestra in most theaters. It's also likely that he played the piano himself as he sang. 



Illustrirtes Wiener Extrablatt
1 April 1914
Source: Wikimedia

At many other theatres he was just one of a dozen acts that included jugglers, acrobats, trained dogs, comedians, instrumentalists, and dancers. From Berlin to Paris to Rotterdam to Dublin there may have been some national differences to these variety shows but for J. Elmer Spyglass there was one big difference from the vaudeville in the United States. Here he was treated as an equal and given respect. 

That was an experience shared by many Black Americans artists in the early 20th century who left their homeland to make a life in Europe. I've written about them before in my stories The Jenkins Orphanage Band (recently updated with new photos) and The King of Cornets. All of these African-Americans were contemporary performers with J. Elmer Spyglass and likely played the same venues. Though I don't doubt that Elmer and the other Black entertainers endured discrimination, bigotry, insults, and even violence while living in Europe, at least it was not the intrenched intolerance and hatred of America's racism.   

+ + +


In April 1915 Elmer returned to Ohio after learning of the death of his mother. The brief report said that his father Augustus Spyglass would accompany him when he went back to Frankfurt, Germany. This was in the second year of World War One, but the United States was still neutral and Americans were still relatively free to travel in Europe. Apparently Elmer found sufficient work performing in theaters and cabarets in Central Europe, though not in Britain or France.   

Elmer survived the war even though by 1917, when President Wilson declared war on Germany, he was technically an enemy alien. However when the war ended in 1918 Elmer needed to renew his passport. This process was made more complicated because there were millions of displaced people in Europe contending with new European borders created by the dissolution of the Russian, German, and Austrian-Hungarian empires. 

In June 1920 James Elmer Spyglass completed an application at the American Legation at The Hague, Netherlands for an Affidavit To Explain Protracted Foreign Residence And To Overcome Presumption Of Expatriation. He swore and oath that since the 7th May 1915 he had resided in Germany and then Holland from July 1915. In neat typewritten lines he recorded: 

my reasons for such residence being as follows:   I went to Europe to study. I had no intention to do so at this stage and intended to remain abroad for two years. I first stopped in England two months from June until August 1906, then I went to Belgium and stayed in Antwerp until November and then went to Germany (Barmen). I studied there and received singing lessons from Julius Lieonitz who obtained engagements for me in some theatres. In 1910 I left Germany for America with my wife and remained in America for two or three months then I again went to Germany to sing and during the following three years visited England Belgium and Germany. In June 1913 I returned to America for a visit of two months and then came back to Germany without my wife from whom I was separated at that time. In 1915 I again went to America to bury my mother. I came back to Europe on July 1st, 1915, first remaining in Germany for a few months and after the latter part of 1915 have always resided in Holland, since.

In April 1923 Elmer made a second application for a U. S. Passport. He had to fill out the same affidavit. This time he was more clear and honest about why he was living abroad:

The fact that I am colored helps me very much in my stage
business here where I do not find so much prejudice against
me as in the United State.  I expect to stay in Europe
as long as business permits, and I do not have at present
any prospect of going back to America.
  

Since leaving for Europe in 1906 he wrote: "I have made the following visits to the United States, two or three months in 1910, two months in 1913, a few weeks in 1915.

"I do not know when I shall go back to America to reside permanently." 

Europe was vastly different now, but America's old bigotry was the same.  

Two years later in February 1925 Elmer made a third passport application. He repeated the same reasons for living abroad as in 1923 but added another caveat. He might return to the United States—"If I can afford it." In 1925 Germany was recovering from a horrific hyperinflation crisis. In November 1923, one US dollar was worth 4.2105 trillion German marks. A loaf of bread in Berlin that cost around 160 marks at the end of 1922 cost 200 billion marks by late 1923. [Source: Hyperinflation in the Weimar Republic]   


In the 1920s Elmer continued to perform, but popular music in Europe, as in America, was changing due to a new kind of rhythmic style created by African-Americans—Jazz. This was not the kind of music Elmer grew up with in Springfield or studied in Toledo and Berlin. When jazz was introduced to the world during WW1 it must have seemed as strange a musical language to him as it did to European audiences. But for a talented musician like Mr. Spyglass he undoubtedly picked up this new styling and adapted it to his repertoire.

Elmer performed in France, Germany, Austria and other countries, but it was in the Netherlands that he was especially popular, booked most often in Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Scheveningen and The Hague. In 1915 he even traveled to the Dutch Indies (now Indonesia). During the post-war years he made his home in Rotterdam where he opened a hat shop and lived with a Dutch woman. 


At this point in J. Elmer Spyglass's life
his story might have faded away
as just an account of an unusual entertainer
performing in unlikely places.
But Mr. Spyglass had one more encore to sing. 




J. Elmer Spyglass, 1947
Source: Wikimedia

In 1932 Elmer Spyglass retired from the stage and moved to Sachsenhausen, a suburb of Frankfurt, Germany which he considered a friendly and welcoming place. He found a life partner, a German woman named Helene Patt, and settled into a quiet peaceful community. As the Nazi party took over Germany's government and society, somehow Elmer, a Black American, was spared or overlooked and allowed to live freely in Frankfurt. In 1944 his house in Sachsenhausen was destroyed by bombing so he moved to Schwalbach am Taunus, a small suburb of Frankfurt am Main. 

As American troops entered this part of Germany during the final days of the war, they were surprised to meet an American who for obvious reasons should not have been there. During the war Elmer helped clear debris and recover the dead in his town. Now as American forces occupied this region of Germany he offered English lessons to his neighbors, free to children. At one point he had around 200 students.   

After those many years singing German songs, Elmer had developed a good ear for German dialects. His linguistic skills also proved useful to the Americans who came to Germany in the post-war years. The US consulate in Frankfurt hired him to act as an interpreter and receptionist. He was known as Mr. Spyglass or sometimes 'General' Spyglass.  

In the November 3, 1947 edition of LIFE magazine on page four, squeezed in between advertisements of Al Capp's cartoon Li'l Abner selling instant cream of wheat and Groucho Marx promoting razor blades, was a story by Will Lang. 

J. Elmer Spyglass
Ex-cabaret singer helps teach Germans
about the U. S. and its democracy.


LIFE
3 November 1947


                                                                                                                             FRANKFURT 
   The best salesman for American democracy in Germany today is an aged Negro who has not lived in his native U.S. for 41 years.  He is J. Elmer Spyglass, a man whose career is as unusual as his name.  A singer, Mr. Spyglass retired in 1930 after two decades of concert and music hall successes all over Europe.  Now, 70 years of age and unmarried, he has decided to spend his remaining years serving his country as a receptionist at the U.S. consulate in Frankfurt.  
   The Frankfurt consulate is one of the busiest in Europe.  Tending American interests in the whole of western Germany, it is visited by thousands of Germans seeking news and help from American relatives; it has repatriated hundreds of Americans trapped in Germany during the war, and it hears the pleas of innumerable displaced persons who hope somehow to reach America.  
   Mr. Spyglass sees them all.  His pleasant, coffee-colored face greets everyone who comes to do business with the U.S. Even the most excitable person is disarmed and charmed by the gracious receptionist who can speak to visitors in any of five languages.  Mr. Spyglass often answers their queries himself, thus sparing the small and hardworking consular staff.  When he cannot, he steers the visitors to the proper office in the consulate.  He manages to preside over his bustling way station with the poise of a veteran actor.  He considers it his function not only to be cordial to visitors but to keep the show moving.  
   Consul General Sydney B. Redecker says of Spyglass: "We have only 15 officers to handle all of this business, and Elmer relieves us all by the way he handles visitors.  More important, he is a wonderful ambassador of democracy, especially with the Germans."  Mr. Redecker is one of few who address the colored man as "Elmer."  To others he is known respectfully as "Mr. Spyglass." 
   The tricks learned on the European stage are useful to Mr. Spyglass in dealing with the daily traffic of consulate visitors.  Many Germans are apt to be nonplussed when stopped by a Negro receptionist speaking flawless German.  But Mr. Spyglass has met this situation in innumerable cabarets and supper clubs during his career.  Using such old-fashioned, courtly phrases as "Dear lady" or "Pray be seated," he flatters the most excitable into the nearest chairs, after which they calm down and tell their stories.  
   The Germans who confide in Mr. Spyglass would exasperate anyone with less patience.  Many, wishing to write to relatives in America, come to the consulate to find the important street addresses and cities where those relatives live.  
   "There are more than 25 million German-Americans living in the U.S.," Mr. Spyglass reminds them. "Yes, but our relatives live in America. You are the American consulate. You should know where they live!" the Germans insist. 
   At this point Mr. Spyglass is kind but firm.  "I'm very sorry, but we're not allowed to search for such things," he says and directs them to the Red Cross.  Many Germans who once lived in the U.S. now want to re-emigrate. "To those who lived in America only a short time, not long enough to take out citizenship papers," Spyglass says, "I give some hope of getting back.  But to those who lived there for 10 or 15 years without bothering to apply for papers I don't give much hope.  Of course no one has ever given me any instructions for dealing with them; those are just my feelings." 
   This is the reasoning to be expected of an ambassador rather than a receptionist, but Mr. Spyglass is on safe ground; the present U.S. quota for German immigration is 26,000 a year, but in these postwar years only "petition cases" are accepted—husbands and wives, fiancées, dependent children or parents of American citizens in the U.S.  
   For a long while last year American soldiers wanting to take their German fiancées or brides to the U.S. added considerably to Spyglass's problems.  He became adept at spotting the fraternizers—GIs who loitered bashfully in the lobby if the reception room was full or who stammered awkwardly when Mr. Spyglass invited them inside: 
   "I wanna see the consul!" the soldier blurts.  
   "What about?" asks Mr. Spyglass.  
   An agonizing silence, then the soldier says weakly "I wanna take my girl home."  
   On these occasions Mr. Spyglass exuded an atmosphere as intimate as the confessional booth.  "When they come so bashfully, I know what they're after," he says.  "But sometimes I just have to pull the words out of their mouths." 
  Mr. Spyglass claims Yellow Springs, Ohio as his home town.  His blacksmith father had some Spanish blood, which may explain the unusual name.  A choir boy in Yellow Springs, young Elmer went to Europe in 1906 to continue his voice studies.  He had already graduated from the Toledo Conservatory of Music and was the first Negro to conduct in the Carnegie Music Hall, in Pittsburgh.  Friends had raised $400 to send him abroad. That was a lot of money in those days, but it proved not enough to pay for expensive European teachers.  Mr. Spyglass soon turned to music halls and cabarets and struck success with his first engagement.  With a repertoire of American and European songs he toured France, Italy, Belgium, Austria, Hungary, Romania and Germany, where he established a home in Frankfurt am Main. 
   During the war the Nazis caused him no trouble, despite his membership in an "inferior race." Mr. Spyglass is still not sure why.  "Perhaps it was because I had lived there off and on since 1907," he says.  "I knew all of old Frankfurt, from the bank directors down to the police. And I never mixed in politics." 
   The "ambassadorial" work of the receptionist is not confined to his desk in the consulate.  From his apartment in Schwalbach, a village within commuting distance of Frankfurt, Mr. Spyglass has attacked the "German problem" in his own way.  Shortly after the armistice many Germans came and asked him for English lessons.  While it was obvious that most of them wanted to equip themselves for jobs with the Americans, Mr. Spyglass saw beyond the obvious and willingly shouldered the job. At one time he was teaching as many as 200 German adults from the nearby villages; he still conducts two classes in English each evening. "I think that the more people know about English, the more of a help it is to my country," he says.  
  

LIFE
3 November 1947

    J. Elmer Spyglass has become the symbol of American democracy in Schwalbach and the surrounding countryside.  At his birthday last year almost the entire town sent flowers to his apartment.  Flowers filled the tables and most of the floor, and bouquets were pinned all over the walls and lace curtains.  Dozens of German children, his students, trooped in with modest presents of fruit and vegetables.  The Kinder then sang songs in English that the old man had taught them.  There, far away from the U.S., they greeted his birthday with Sweet and Low, Home, Sweet Home, My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean and My Old Kentucky Home. 

_ _ _




In 1954 J. Elmer Spyglass was given another honor that again merited a lot of notice in American newspapers. 


Montgomery Alabama Tribune
17 December 1954 

On November 9, 1954, Spyglass was made an honorary citizen of Schwalbach, his adopted hometown. A photo of the occasion was printed in many newspapers in the U.S.  In December 1957 the Toledo Blade ran a report that at age 79 Elmer was not yet ready to retire and still worked at the U. S. Consulate in Frankfurt. It included another photo portrait of him and a long account of his life going back to the days when he worked at Freeman's jewelry store.

On 16 February 1957, J. Elmer Spyglass died of heart failure in his apartment in Schwalbach am Taunus. He was 79. His ashes were sent back to Ohio where he was buried next to his mother at a cemetery in Yelow Springs.  

In 1994 the city of Schwalbach established the James Elmer Spyglass Prize which has been awarded to individuals who promote intercultural understanding in Schwalbach.








What does it mean to love your country? Do we lose our nationality if we leave our native land? Is it possible to be the citizen of two countries?

The life of James Elmer Spyglass asks those questions and more. I found the answer to my opening question but I don't know if I have answers to these. I've waited several years to write Elmer's story and I find that circumstances of our current world changed how I first thought I would present his life. 

The way Elmer chose to make his career in Europe was a reaction to the constraints that bound all African-Americans in the late 19th and early 20th century. America's institutionalized segregation prevented many Black people from reaching their full potential. Likewise the demeaning bigotry of America's dominant white society diminished the achievements of all people of color. Mr. Spyglass's story as an emigrant from his homeland to Europe seems a heroic tale of overcoming such intolerance. Yet he had remarkable good fortune to have talents that allowed him to do that. Many other Black folk of his generation endured far harsher challenges by staying in the United States. They were the people who fought for civil rights and struggled to change American society.  

What sets Mr. Spyglass apart is that instead he helped to change another country, a nation that was responsible for some of the most heinous atrocities the world has ever seen. After the war it took several years to sort out the monstrous crimes of Hitler and the Nazi party. I would expect that Elmer Spyglass was as horrified as many Americans were to learn of the horrors of the Holocaust. Except that he knew Germans as friends and neighbors, ordinary people trapped in the giant totalitarian machines of war. 

His story is as much about becoming an American-German as it is about losing his identity as an African-American. Though we can't know his full character or all the details of his personal life I feel that we can still appreciate a man who, in a way, became a good citizen to two countries. 





This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where practice makes perfect.


A Piano Dreams

08 March 2025

 

We've all seen that look.
It's an unfocused, often pleasant, gaze
into a distant undefined space.
It's the very essence of any teenager 
pondering their future.

Young ladies can be very thoughtful
when considering the mysteries
of their romantic fortune.
However in my experience
boys are usually not thinking
about anything as remotely profound.






Often these adolescent daydreams
are accompanied by music.
And once upon a time
those reflective soulful melodies
did not come from revolving discs
or streaming digital files
but were created by hand,
played over and over and over.







Long ago in some unknown place
this young woman posed for her portrait
seated at her instrument, an upright piano.
She rests her head on her hand 
with a far-away stare and a Mona Lisa like smile.
What is her dream about?



Orvetta Waltz
 Oliver Ditson Company, Boston, 1892
Source: Lester S. Levey Sheet Music Collection

The sheet music on her piano is carefully arranged and two of the titles are visible and in focus. The piece on the left is the Orvetta Waltz by composer E. B. Spencer. It was published by the Oliver Ditson Company of Boston in 1892, though I found the title in an 1879 musical journal. It was one of thousands of dances and songs composed in the late 19th century for the growing market of amateur pianists. Mr. E. B. Spencer's waltz (unfortunately I've not discovered his forenames.) was later included in piano anthology collections, and evidently the melody is still remembered in the repertoire of country fiddlers. Here is a rendition that I found on YouTube. 










Down Among the Sugar-Cane
 The Gotham Attucks Music Co., NYC, 1908
Source: Lester S. Levey Sheet Music Collection

The centerpiece chosen by the young pianist is a song entitled Down Among the Sugar-Cane
with lyrics by Avery and Hart and music composed by Cecil Mack and Chris Smith. It was published in 1908 by the Gotham Attucks Music Co. or New York City. It's an example of the clichéd "Southland" songs popularized in minstrel shows. Though the lyrics are not overtly racist, it does use a condescending dialect form which was common in this era for most songs that portrayed a sentimental southern culture. The song was recorded in 1909 by the Edison Standard Record Co. with Arthur Collins and Byron G. Harlan performing. Here is that recording uploaded to YouTube.




The song Down Among the Sugar-Cane remained popular enough to be featured in a 1932 Fleischer Studio cartoon with vocalist Lillian Roth. The Fleischer Studios was a pioneer American animation studio founded in 1929 by brothers Max and Dave Fleischer. They produced hundreds of popular cartoons with sound  that played American cinemas. Among the company's many well-known characters were Koko the Clown, Betty Boop, Bimbo, Popeye the Sailor, and the comic character Superman. 





This young lady's name,
her hometown, and personal history are unknown.
All that remains is a picture of her graceful charm
and the echo of the music she once played. 














This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where uncommon portraits are pretty common.




Music of the Great White Fleet

14 January 2024

 


At first glance this image seems like a scene at any gentlemen's' club from a century ago. A few young men in military uniform are relaxing in a salon or library. There are assorted pictures hanging on a wall, newspapers and magazines on a table, and along the back of the room is an upright piano. Nothing unusual here. 

Except for two things. Their clubroom is not resting on solid ground but is actually afloat inside a battleship. And that piano is no ordinary musical instrument but a complex self-playing piano with a pneumatic mechanism able to reproduce music from cryptic rolls of paper.

These men were junior officers in the U. S. Navy and they had returned from a voyage around the world. And during the trip this player piano gave them a tiny bit of recreation whenever time permitted.



On this postcard we see a long line of the warships steaming through a choppy sea. A caption describes it as the U. S. Battleship fleet leaving Hampton Roads on its "around-the-World Cruise" and according to the back of the card, most, if not all, of them had a military-issued player piano onboard. There were 16 battleships in the fleet and they were all about to sail to South America and then continue westward across the Pacific Ocean to Asia and beyond. It was December 1907 and this expedition promised a peaceful display of naval prestige, as this was a rare time with no eminent threat of war. So someone decided it was appropriate for such a diplomatic mission to include music too. The AUTOPIANO company was ready to help.



Uncle Sam's Choice

   The most severe test to which a player piano can be subjected is aboard a ship, yet the officers and sailors of over 50 U. S. and Foreign Battleships have purchased Autopianos, and unhesitatingly express their appreciation of the enjoyment derived from this wonderful instrument.

   During the famous cruise around the world of the American Fleet nearly every Battleship possessed an "AUTOPIANO" for the amusement and education of the officers and crew.  That these instruments needed little of no repairing after having been exposed to every climate, is more conclusive proof of the remarkable durability of the "AUTOPIANO" and of its ability to give musical enjoyment and great satisfaction under any conditions.  The marvelous Autopiano gives pleasure to every member of the family because all can play it.

            The Autopiano Is Sold By

                 J. N. Adam & Co.
                  Buffalo, N. Y.

   To any one sending name and address of probable purchaser of an AUTOPIANO at the The Autopiano Co., 12th Ave., 51st to 52nd St., New York City, we will send set of postcards of warships carrying Autopianos.



The Autopiano Company of New York arranged for this naval connection to its "marvelous" instrument as a marketing scheme to gain advantage over its player-piano rivals. Dozens of different souvenir postcards of the fleet were printed and used to solicit customers. My first image came from a postcard in this series. It is possibly the only one that shows an interior shiproom and an   Autopiano.



The full picture shows more plumbing pipes and steel rivets than usually found in hotel salons or gentlemen's clubs. The postcard is captioned:

Junior Officers Mess Room
U. S. S. Connecticut
This Autopiano when photographed
on May 12, 1911 had been in use
on this Ship over 4½ Years.

One the back is a full description of the battleship and a testimonial to the Autopiano.




U. S. S. Connecticut (Battleship)

Displacement, tons 16,000.  Speed, knots 19.  Cost, $8,000,000.  Length, 450 feet.  Beam, 76 feet, 10 inches.  Draught, 24 feet, 6 inches.  Main Battery, 4 - 12 inch guns, 8 - 8 inch guns, 12 7-inch guns.  Secondary Battery, 28 Rapid Fire and Machine Guns.  Complement, 856 men.

Uncle Sam's Choice.

   The AUTOPIANO on board the United States Battleship Connecticut, Flagship of the Atlantic Fleet was and still is in the Junior Officers' Mess Room as shown on this interesting picture. 

   This AUTOPIANO when photographed on May 14th, 1911 had been in use for over four and a half years, and that it has more than proved its worth is evidenced by the following letter from one of the Junior Officers:

                                            Napeaque Bay, Long Island,  May 24th, 1911.
Mr. R. W. Lawrence, Pres.,  The Autopiano CO., N. Y.
            Dear Sir:—
                The AUTOPIANO purchased from you which has been in the possession of the Junior Officers' Mess for the past four and a half years, has given excellent service during that time.  It has been used constantly but retains its good action and tone.  Change of temperature and Climate does not seem to affect it.  We are highly pleased with it, and it seems good for many years of service.            Very truly yours,
                    (Signed)   ELMER D. LONGWORTHY,
                
                        Midshipman, U. S. Navy.

The Autopiano Is Sold By
E. B. Guild Music Co.
Topeka, Kansas



The U. S. S. Connecticut appears on another postcard in the Autopiano series in a sepia tone illustration. The picture has a copyright 1904 by E. Muller. The Connecticut was built in the Brooklyn NY Navy Yard and was launched on 29 September 1904. Exactly two years later in 1906 it was commissioned and considered the most sophisticated ship in the US Navy.  



Will's Cigarette card,
Famous Inventions No. 23, Auto-Piano
Source: New York Public Library Archive

Like the battleship Connecticut, a player piano was also a marvel of modern technology. The first successful instrument was called the Pianola. Invented in 1896 by Edwin S. Votey, it combined a standard piano with pneumatic actuators that followed a code of perforated holes punched into a long roll of stiff paper. A person "played" it by using their feet to pump pedals attached to bellows, not unlike a parlor reed organ, that pressurized the mechanism. This complicated action was added onto an already complex system for the piano which still functioned even if the player-piano was now used. 


Sectional illustration of player piano interior action,
1909 William Braid White
Source: Wikimedia





Here's a schematic sideview
of the mechanism of a player piano.

1. Pedal.
2. Pedal connection.
3. Exhauster (one only shown).
4. Reservoir; high tension
(low-tension reservoir not shown.)
5. Exhaust trunk.
6. Exhaust tube to motor.
7. Air space above primary valves.
8. Secondary valves.
9. Striking pneumatic.
10. Connection from pneumatic
to action of piano.
11. Piano action.
12. Pneumatic motor.
13. Trackerboard (music roll
passes over trackerboard).



Player-piano music rolls were 11¼ inch wide and were mass produced by several companies that initially followed a standard format for playing only 65 notes. By 1903 one company had a catalog of over 9,000 titles. In 1908 the industry adopted a new standard with 88 notes, the same number of notes as on an ordinary piano. Newer player-pianos like the Autopiano were modified to accept this increased range.
_ _ _ _




The Autopiano Company was just one of hundreds of manufacturers of pianos, reed organs, and player pianos that flourished in America at the turn of the 20th century. The company was based in New York City and began operations in 1903 at a huge factory that had 300,000 square feet of space and occupied two blocks along the Hudson River. Within a short time it was producing 10,000 instruments a year, all player piano types with pneumatic controls. The company quickly established a reputation in the industry for making for a superior product that was robust in any kind of climate, dry or humid. Soon it was exporting Autopianos to music lovers around the globe. 



This postcard illustration gives a fanciful bird's eye-view of the Hudson River in New York.  A caption identifies it as "The Atlantic Battleship Fleet passing the Autopiano Factories."

The card was never posted but on the back there is a message to Edith Lerris (?) from Myrtle Brenner (?). Either Myrtle was only six years old or never mastered penmanship.



A note to
you
dont it
look it.
it is a dish
of honey
and cheese
for you









Even opera divas like Luisa Tetrazzini (1871–1940), pictured on this next postcard, endorsed the "marvelous Autopiano—the piano that anyone can play." Tetrazzini was an Italian coloratura soprano who performed in major opera houses around the world and became one of the highest paid artists of the early 20th century. The Italian-American dish, chicken tetrazzini, was named in her honor.




                                                    San Francisco, Cal.   

        The Autopiano Co., New York, N. Y.

        GENTLEMEN:
   The Autopiano is a blessing to humanity.  It should be in every home, for it brings with it the culture and refinement which only the compositions of the great masters afford.  I find I can play the great operas with the same feeling and expression with which I sing them.  I love to play it—it is wonderful—there is no player piano to equal it.        Faithfully yours,
                                                                    Luisa Tetrazzini

Porch Brothers, Inc.
Johnstown, Pa.


In 1910 Madame Tetrazzini became embroiled in a contract dispute with her manager Oscar Hammerstein who wanted her to perform in New York while she insisted on San Francisco. Her concert fee was also part of the disagreement. During a press conference she declared, "I will sing in San Francisco if I have to sing there in the streets, for I know the streets of San Francisco are free." She prevailed and fulfilled her promise to San Francisco. So on Christmas Eve 1910, on a stage erected in front of the Chronicle newspaper building and accompanied by an orchestra and chorus of 50 singers, Madame Tetrazzini sang for thousands of people. Her concert was especially memorable to San Franciscans because the city was still suffering from the devasting effects of the terrible earthquake of 1906.



This second postcard of the Autopiano factories shows the building lit at night with more battleships using searchlights out in the Hudson River. The caption reads: "The Autopiano factories work over-time to supply the demand for this marvelous Player Piano". I can easily imagine that a few navy midshipmen like Elmer D. Longworthy worked overtime too, acting as Autopiano Co. agents in foreign ports







Grant NE Perkin County News
26 February 1909


In 1906-07 as the Autopiano company began suppling the U. S. Navy with its musical instruments, the navy was preparing its fleet for an historic voyage around the world by order of President Theodore Roosevelt. The fleet consisted of 16 battleships divided into two squadrons, along with various smaller escort and support ships. Eventually the expedition would have 30 ships in all, manned by 14,000 sailors. It was later given the nickname "The Great White Fleet" because the ship hulls were painted white. The U.S.S. Connecticut was the flagship of the fleet and probably got the best paintwork. The expedition began on December 16, 1907 and finished on February 22, 1909. 


U.S.S. Connecticut (BB-18), circa 1906
Source: Wikipedia

The mission of the Great White Fleet was largely diplomatic as the fleet would be paying courtesy calls to ports of many countries. But President Roosevelt also intended it as a display of America's new battleship fleet, demonstrating America's military prowess and naval capabilities as a major power in a world that was dominated by colonial empires. And the United States was the newest nation to join that club.


Map of the voyage of the Great White Fleet, 1907-1909
Source: The Internet

This map shows the route that began and ended in Hampton Roads, the great harbor on the James River between Norfolk and Hampton, Virginia near the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. Notice that the fleet travelled around Cape Horn in South America as the Panama Canal was still under construction and would not be finished until August 1914. The placenames in red are where the fleet re-coaled the ships. Once it reached San Francisco, the fleet replaced two battleships before continuing across the Pacific. 

As the result of the Spanish-American War and the annexation of Hawaii in 1898, the route included stops at the new U. S. territories of Hawaii, Samoa, Guam. and the Philippines. On its return leg the fleet took a short cut from the Indian Ocean to the Mediterranean Sea via the Suez Canal, rather than going around Africa. The expedition took 14 months and covered 43,000 miles while making calls on twenty ports on six continents.





The U. S. S. Florida (BB-30) was pictured on another Autopiano postcard. Like the postcard of the U. S. S. Connecticut there was information about the ship on the back of the card as well as a promotion of the Autopiano Company by the Orton Bros. music store of Butte, Montana. 



U. S. S. Florida (Battleship)

Displacement, tons 21,825.  Speed, knots 21.  Cost, $6,000,000.  Length, 521 feet, six inches.  Beam, 88 feet, 2 inches.  Draught, 28 feet, 6 inches.  Main Battery, 10 - 12 inch guns, 16 - 5 inch guns.  Secondary Battery, 10 Rapid Fire and Machine Guns.  Complement, 1014 men.

The Florida was larger and more powerful than the Connecticut but it was not launched until May 1910 and was commissioned on 15 September 1911, so this ship was not part of the Great White Fleet of 1907-09. Evidently the Autopiano Company profited by this kind of patriotic advertising and expanded its promotion into the next decade. 

I should also note that many crews of the battleships included a navy band. I've written a story about photos of two of them, including the Florida, in The USS Florida and USS Arkansas Navy Bands



The Autopiano battleship series included a picture of the U. S. Battleship Colorado, also known as Armored Cruiser No. 7, which also did not accompany the Great White Fleet in 1907-09. In November 1916 while being overhauled the ship was renamed Pueblo, in order to free up her original name for use by a newer bigger battleship Colorado. This card promoted sales of the Autopiano by a music dealer, J. H. Troup, of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. 



Likewise this next ship, the Protected Cruiser "New Orleans" (CL-22) was not part of the Great White Fleet either but supposedly still had an Autopiano onboard. It was a much smaller and older ship than the previous battleships. Commissioned in March 1898, the ship was immediately  put to service in Cuba during the Spanish-American War and later was assigned to the Asiatic Fleet in Manila, Philippines. The back of the card offered Autopianos sold by Weiler Bros., of Quincy, Illinois.




The next battleship in the Autopiano series was the U.S. Armored Cruiser New York (ACR-2) which also wasn't a ship in the Great White Fleet. Perhaps this was because of its age as its keel was laid in 1890 and at the time of the 1907-09 expedition the New York was laid up for an extensive refit that was not finished until 1909. Presumably it then got a new Autopiano too.  Maybe purchased from W. H. Rider of Kingston, New York.




Another in the Autopiano series was the Armored Cruiser St. Louis (CA-2) which was launched in 1905 but was already stationed on the west coast in 1907 when the Great White Fleet left on its voyage. The St. Louis was built for $2,740,000 which seems a bargain, especially because a top of the line Autopiano cost $600 then. The recipient of this postcard might have got a better deal from the J. E. Lothrop Piano Co. of Dover, New Hampshire.





Finally I finish with the U. S. Battleship Wisconsin (BB-9) which did join the Great White Fleet in 1908 for the second leg of its voyage when it switched with the U.S.S. Maine in San Francisco. This Illinois-class battleship was launched in November 1898 and commissioned on 4 February 1901. This postcard encouraged music lovers to get a marvelous Autopiano from the Yahrling-Raynar Piano Co. of Youngstown, Ohio.



1912 Pacific Medical Journal



In 1912 the Autopiano company claimed it had instruments on seventy five ships of the U. S. Navy and that 30th regiment U. S. Infantry had taken 20 Autopianos to Alaska. Even the Pope had an Autopiano in the Vatican. (Which brings to mind an odd image of his Holiness sitting on a piano bench vigorously pumping his legs to sing along to the latest music roll, presumably a hymn tune.)

In 1917 the Autopiano Company installed its instruments in over 100 army training camps as America prepared to join the war in Europe. The company was one of the largest producers of musical instruments which were known for being reliable and expressive devices for playing music. But all the player-piano companies were competing against another medium that was rapidly gaining strength. The 78rpm gramophone record.  

In several ways a gramophone/victrola and a player-piano were alike. Both were mechanical marvels that produced music on demand from prerecorded performances. Both used a special media, a disc or a paper roll, that encoded the music invisibly. Both were promoted by famous composers, song writers, and musicians. Both became enormously popular creating a consumer demand that turned music into a consumable commodity which resulted in thousands of new titles produced every week. And as Autopiano advertising boasted, both player-pianos and gramophones required no musical skills and could be played by anyone.

The big differences between the two mediums was that a player-piano like the Autopiano required continuous physical action by a human to play music, while a gramophone needed only minimal effort to crank the motor spring and set down the needle. But more crucial difference was that a gramophone record reproduced the exact sound of voices and instruments while a player-piano just sounded like a like a piano. 

My first experience of music came from a little black and tan RCA 45rpm record player that my mother let me play using a stack of records she must have acquired when she was in high school and college. A few years later my dad got hooked by the hi-fi stereo craze and I discovered jazz, opera, and orchestral music on 32rpm discs. Soon I began buying my own records and still have a large collection though I admit I rarely listen to them. I try not to think about the crypt that stores my collection of cassette tapes since I no longer have a machine that can play them. 

When compact discs first came out in the 1980s everyone was amazed that they were so small and light weight, compact as they say, compared to the heavy albums of vinyl records. Yet today, 40 years after buying my first CD, I've thrown away most of the clunky boxes that they came in and store my CDs in clear plastic envelopes. Unfortunately I can't use them in my car anymore as the "entertainment center" can't play them. Instead I've converted—ripped countless music albums from CDs into digital files on a flash drive. This means that most of the time I don't know the title of a song or the name of the artist performing. How do you turn off random shuffle play? Now even flash-drives are old fashioned. Who needs messy digital files when music can come straight from the Spotify or Apple clouds. 

The average lifespan of the seven battleships used to promote the Autopiano was about 27 years, skewed by the cruiser New York lasting 42 years. Despite their size, or maybe because they were so immense, battleships were not built to last and all these ships ended up being cut up for scrap long before the start of the next war. I wonder if those Autopianos were saved from demolition.

The Autopiano company endeavored to remain independently solvent but in the 1920s it was bought by the Kohler and Campbell piano company. The new owners continued manufacturing player-pianos into the 1930s but like many businesses that depended on consumer demand, it was unable to survive the Great Depression and closed its Autopiano factory forever. Everyone was listening to the radio anyway.

But once upon a time, young navy midshipmen tapped their feet and swung to music on the rolling sea as they sang along to music coming from the marvelous, fantastic Autopiano.  Did the company supply them with enough music-roll titles? How many times did they listen to the same tune on a trip around the world?
 






To demonstrate the sound and machinery of a player-piano
     here is a video of a 1905 Autopiano Player Piano, made of white oak,
that was beautifully restored by the craftsmen at Pianosnthings.
Notice how the little levers under the keyboard control the music
and the foot pedal action almost turns the Autopiano
into some kind of fitness equipment found at a gym. 








This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday
where music sometimes comes in a sepia box.




nolitbx

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