Rachmaninoff on Edison

In an earlier post, I raved about the rich acoustic sound of Edison Diamond Discs. But as I delved further into these records, I became more puzzled over their inconsistency - some DDs really sound wonderful for their time; others are quite noisy. As I've gained knowledge about Edison discs, I've learned more about their variability. Edison experimented with different materials and manufacturing processes throughout the history of Diamond Discs, and some of them worked better than others. And I've learned about these records' susceptibility to moisture; the records' composite core tends to absorb moisture over time, with a deleterious impact on sound quality.

Sergei Rachmaninoff's 1919 Edison recording of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, spread across three record sides, has always something of a disappointment to me. Once I had a turntable capable of playing Diamond Discs, I eagerly searched for and acquired the Rachmaninoff discs, only to find the combination of surface noise and low recording level standing in the way of enjoying the music. The period of these discs' manufacture was not one of the Edison's best, in terms of sound quality.

But I have wanted to try my hand at transferring these records, so here is my attempt. I've joined the three sides together with crossfades, but it will be apparent when each new side starts. The beginning of each disc is pretty noisy, but the noise abates somewhat further down the groove - an unfortunately common characteristic of some eras of Diamond Discs.

The third side of the Second Rhapsodie, as the labels have it, includes Rachmaninoff's own cadenza, which subsequent pianists often include when performing the piece. The flip side of part three is a "Pastorale" by Scarlatti, as arranged by Carl Tausig. The picture to the right is from an Edison catalog called Music That Lives, from the early 1920s. It's a listing, with descriptions, of 300 of what the Edison organization considered their best records.

So, warts and all here is Rachmaninoff's 1919 recording of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 and Scarlatti's "Pastorale." I applied some declicking and a little noise reduction, but there are still passages that are practically inaudible above the surface noise.

Later (October 27, 2021): New transfer of both pieces. I'm still not at all satisfied with my transfers, but here they are, for what it's worth.

Second Rhapsodie

Pastorale

Artie Shaw on 7" Bell

The last ensemble Artie Shaw led was a version of the Gramercy Five (his name for all of his small groups) that he formed in 1953, and which lasted for about a year. This was an excellent band, composed of younger musicians who leaned toward modern jazz: Tal Farlow on guitar, Joe Roland on vibes, pianist Hank Jones (who was already something of a seasoned veteran by then), Tommy Potter on bass, and drummer Irv Kluger. The group recorded for several labels, including for Norman Granz's Clef/Verve. But the Gramercy Five's two Bell records, recorded in September, 1953, are in some ways their most unusual.

Bell (one of several labels which used that name over the years) issued conventional 10" 78s and 7" 45s, but they are most remembered for their odd, 7" microgroove 78s, which are kind of hybrids between regular 10" 78s and 45s. The labels and sleeves state, "Full length playing time equal to ten inch record," and "For Best Results Use L.P. Needle." So the question is - why make these odd little records? My theory is that these 7" 78s were issued so that younger record buyers who only had 78 RPM record players could buy the "cool" new 7" records, like their 45-buying friends.

In any case, this late Artie Shaw session is musically excellent, and the records sound pretty good. I'm somewhat in awe of Shaw's casual virtuosity here, and the other musicians play very well, especially Tal Farlow, who is particularly fluid and creative. Bell 1023, with "Besame Mucho" and "That Old Feeling," is pretty close to mint condition, while Bell 1027 - Shaw's original "Stop and Go Mambo" and "Tenderly" - is a little more worn.


Besame Mucho

That Old Feeling

Stop and Go Mambo

Tenderly

Two Band Works by Florent Schmitt

This is the second of two posts of band music in memory of my friend Bill Haynes. Bill was a brass player and band conductor, and knew more wind band literature as anyone I knew.

Florent Schmitt (1878-1958) was a widely admired and much-performed French composer, but his reputation has diminished since his death, and his music is not frequently performed now. Of Schmitt's pieces which are still performed, one of the most well-known is his Opus 62, Dionysiaques for concert band. Dionysiaques is a challenging composition which has earned a place in the wind band repertoire.

But here I present a 12" French Gramophone record from 1929, with two lesser-known band works by Schmitt, "Selamlik," Op. 48, and "Le Camp de Pompé," from his  Antoine et Cléopâtre Suite No. 1, Op. 69a. "Selamlik," subtitled "Divertissement," is a Turkish-inspired piece from 1906; the title refers to the part of the Ottoman palace reserved for men only.

Schmitt's Antoine et Cléopâtre music was written for André Gide's 1920 production of Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra. The composer assembled two suites from the incidental music; "Le Camp de Pompée" is the second movement of the first suite. It was originally written for orchestra, and I have been unable to determine whether Schmitt himself transcribed the work for band.

The ensemble credit is given on the label as simply "Musique d'Harmonie," or "Wind Band." The conductor is Guillaume Balay, the former director of the famous Garde Républicaine band. Balay was the conductor at the 1909 premiere of "Selamlik." Both sides were recorded in Paris on March 29, 1929. Despite one of the sides being pressed slightly off-center, these are very enjoyable performances of interesting, seldom-heard music; I hope you enjoy them.
 
Selamlik

Le Camp de Pompée

United States Marine Band - Two German Marches

Marches are often derided by music lovers; some consider the march the most mindless of "light" music styles. But approached with an open mind, the march can, in its admittedly limited way, provide musical enjoyment. The march is a multi-strain form, presenting one melody after another, with no room for any real development. So while marches offer little chance for musical profundity, the best march composers were excellent melodists, and their offerings are worth hearing for the sometimes imaginative ways they handle the limitations of the form. I would argue that the best marches are as worthy of our attention as similarly limited forms such as ragtime and the Brazilian choro.

Here the United States Marine Band offers two German marches in recordings from 1914. The composers, Ernst Stieberitz (1877-1945) and Franz von Blon (1861-1945), were active in the German band world as conductors and composers; both wrote numerous marches, as well as other works for band. These two marches are melodically fresh and enjoyable, and these Victor recordings have not been reissued, as far as I can tell.

This post serves as a memorial to Bill Haynes, an excellent band conductor, authority on concert band music, and the first follower of this blog. Bill was senselessly killed in Atlanta on December 17, 2016. He loved the Marine Band, and considered that ensemble to be the best concert band in the world. So long, BHaynes.

Here is Victor 17730, by the United States  Marine Band, recorded in Camden, New Jersey in March, 1914
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Unter dem Gardestern (Under the Star of the Guard) (Ernst Stieberitz)

Treu der Flagge (True to the Flag) (Franz von Blon)

1923 Gennett Sleeve

 

Until I plucked it from an antique store in Moorhead, Minnesota last year, this copy of Gennett 5290 in its original sleeve had not traveled far from home. The stamp on the front shows that it was sold at West Piano Company on 4th Street in Moorhead, presumably 93 years or so before I bought it in the same town. That this sleeve and this record were originally paired is evidenced by the record's catalog number written on the two top corners of the front of the sleeve. They are written by two different hands - a store clerk and the original owner, perhaps? One of them also wrote the number on the back.

The record itself, by the studio dance band Gennett called Bailey's Lucky Seven, is not particularly interesting. But I love the sleeve, and love the fact that it has remained paired to "its" record for nearly a century. The most intriguing aspect is the listing of records on the back - not so much the selection "of special appeal" listed on the left: hymns, sermons, monologues, and light classics - but the "latest popular numbers" listed on the right. There is one pop/dance record listed, but the other four are hard-core jazz and blues. There's one of Jelly Roll Morton's seminal piano solos, as well as two records by the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, from the first racially integrated jazz recording session. I have one of those NORK records, and have thought about putting it into this sleeve, but decided that Gennett 5290 should stay with its original sleeve as long as I have it.

Original Sacred Harp Choir

Sacred  Harp singing, a style named after the hymnbook known as The Sacred Harp, is an unusual and very stylized form of a cappella gospel singing, in which the first verse of the song is performed with solfege syllables (fa, so, la, etc.) before the singers move on the lyrics of the song. The music is written with shaped noteheads; each shape corresponds to a solfege syllable - and the system does not correspond to the standard "classical" system of solfege. The style developed in the earliest days of the United States, and can still be found, especially in the southern states.

Sacred Harp singing was first recorded by the Brunswick record company in a series of sessions in New York in June and July of 1922. Based on contemporary newspaper accounts, the singers were apparently recruited from Texas and Georgia. Sacred Harp singing tends to be slightly rough-hewn, but the singers on the Brunswick recordings sing in a more refined manner, possibly reflecting the tastes of the record company. Brunswick thought enough of these recordings to issue them with a beautiful special label, depicting the shaped notes.

These sessions are notable for the first recording of "Amazing Grace," issued under the title "New Britain." Brunswick 5154, pairing "Greenfield" and "Hallelujah," has remained a more obscure disc; it doesn't appear in any discographies that I have seen.

Greenfield

Hallelujah

Back in the Groove

For a variety of reasons, mostly computer-related, I have been unable to add to this blog for a while, and the links to the sound files have been broken for some time. All of that has been worked out and the sound files have been reloaded. I'll be adding more stuff soon, and have several interesting 78s lined up to post.