The talking machine world (Jan-Dec 1910)

30 THE TALKING MACHINE WORLD. TIMELY TALKS ON TIMELY TOPICS According to a report from London printed recently no record of King Edward's voice is among the many gramophone records of the voices of famous men preserved at the British Museum. Just how very important this may be it is not pretended to say. Among the other developments of the talking machine trade is that an effort has been made to record the voices of the so-called leading people of the world. Doubtless the majority of these people have poor voices for recording, and therefore those responsible for "gathering" these voices for the delectation, if not the enlightenment, of posterity, were not altogether enamored as to the practical success of such recording work. This reminds the writer of what the manager of a recording laboratory recently observed regarding "talent" who are confident they will set the world afire on the record proposition. The gentleman in question is placed in the front rank by his compeers, and when The World asked about the work of certain artists, he briefly used the short and expressive word commencing with the letter R. The recorder in question is rather frank in his opinion regarding "talent," because he has probably had as many people scheduled in this class apply for a "test" as any man in the business, and therefore he is competent to pass judgment on the worst and the best. And he does, sometimes with brutal candor, but no one takes exception to his criticism. He is considered an authority, and his endorsement and approval mean a whole lot to the aspirant for record honors. "You would be surprised to know the number of people who believe they have voices particularly adapted for making records. As a rule they are a disappointing lot, and even the sotermed great artists do not come up to the mark. A woman's voice is one of the hardest to record, but nevertheless a bunch of them apply for 'tests' who are no more fitted for the ordeal — and an ordeal it is — than — well, anything you may imagine. These applicants have not got tne timbre, often sing off key, and then what can you say? We give everybody a chance, thinking we will make a 'find,' but the 'finds' are rare. That is the reason why the names of popular singers appear so often. After they have learned how to pitch their voices and know what volume is required to make a really possible 'master,' why, they are hard to displace. To be perfectly frank, we need them as bad as they want the engagements." Fortunately, litigation, which has at times disturbed the "primrose path" of the trade, is now quiescent. It is true suits are not lacking, but it may be said that the issues at stake are not of a disturbing nature, to express it mildly. For years the suits in court "raised the roof," so to speak, but as the basic cases have been about adjudicated the minor troubles relate more to the enforcement of the decrees than anything else. It would be expected, of course, that these proceedings would cause more or less friction, but in view of the vast interests involved the settlements have been arranged on a basis honorable and satisfactory to both sides. Other suits of a minor nature may be pending or even "on the calendar," but they are not of a nature to cause much uneasiness excepting when direct violations of signed contracts or agreements are involved. "Damage" suits are in the air, but the issues involved are so personal as not to bother the trade in the most remote degree. "It is my misfortune to happen in very frequently at places where they own a talking machine," said the city salesman. "I hate talking machines, but my enforced acquaintance with them has caused me to observe one thing. It is harder for the average person to get the singing pitch from a talking machine than from any other musical invention. Born singers may find a talking machine useful in their study of music, but the person who has hard work to carry a tune except in the most favorable circumstances will seesaw up and down the scale before he finds the home note. Just step into any roomful of people where a talking machine is spouting some popular song that sets everybody humming. The discord is painful. With a piano or orchestra or the human voice to lead them no doubt most of those merry souls could chime in without disgracing themselves, but the talking machine breeds a medley in every key and register," says a veracious writer in the New York Sun. Regarding the above flippant paragraph, written in the usual self-sufficient and intolerant vein of the daily newspaper, when a little knowledge is really a dangerous thing, an expert in this line said: "That shows just about how much that fellow knows. It is true when we sell an Auxetophone or Victrola, we show the purchaser how to make the pitch for any vocalization. Thisis purely mechanical and has nothing whatever to do with the music. Why, the very best instructors not only employ the talking machine record for the benefit of their pupils, but they frankly acknowledge it is indispensable. A music teacher can tell a student just how to control the vocal chords, how to enunciate and all that, but when it comes to the actual singing, unless they possess a marvelous voice, they are at a loss to give the proper rendition of the music. Possessing the records, they select certain interpretations of famous compositions by celebrated artists, and instruct the embryo artist to follow and practice unremittingly along the vocal lines reproduced from the record if they wish to attain the highest and best form of expression. You would be surprised to know the number of the girl schools of this country which consider the record the most reliable and uniform standard they can follow without unconsciously adopting or unconsciously falling into a meretricious style of singing. Now that the "big fight" is history, a chronicler of the event on the spot says: "Right here it ought to be stated, with all respect to an honorable profession, that Jack Johnson, the prizefighter, plays a seven-foot bass viol. He has all the Southern darkey's love for music, and when ne isn't sawing away on that big rough box of a musical instrument he is listening to operatic records on a reproducing machine." Fortunately, the advertising departments of the record manufacturers are not "sporty," or they would soon have the brand on the goods blazoned everywhere. However, as "music hath charms to soothe the savage breast," this precious information about the champion heavyweight is to be received with thanks. Perhaps it is hardly believable that people live — intelligent, progressive and wide awake at that — who are so indifferent to a musical performance in a theater that they will never attend, unless as a matter of compliment to a friend or to be agreeable. An evening so passed is regarded in the light of an unmitigated bore. Well, such folk are known, and in this category may be placed Geo. H. Ely, treasurer, and one of the two chief owners of the Charles H. Fuller Co., the veteran advertising agency of Chicago. It is said of Mr. Ely — a typical Chicago man in every sense of the word for business action and activity — that if he consents to attend a theater as a social courtesy he invariably falls asleep. It does not appeal to him, though it may be the liveliest kind of music. He possesses a Victor machine, however, at his home, an'3 has quite a library of Red Seal and other Victor records, operatic predominating. For hours of an evening Mr. Ely will play record after record, perfectly entranced, and what is more, in a spirit of quiet enthusiasm. The music is of such an appealing nature that the business cares and complications of the day are entirely forgotten, and at the expiration of this regular session he feels completely rested and refreshed. This is only one concrete example of what benefit high-grade records have over sensitive organizations, and doubtless there are thousands of whom, if known, the same experience could be related. The customs and habits of our Spanish-American brethren, as recited in the correspondence and actual experience of American record manufacturers seem amusing in view of the formal manner in which certain things are treated and regarded in English-speaking countries. As an example, E. N. Burns, manager of the Columbia Phonograph Co.'s export department, last month talked most interestingly about the character of Cuban music. The story should be read to be fully appreciated, especially that portion in which he tells how the Cuban arranger or comEoser — whether he may be called or styles himself in the realms of music — will take an operatic score as his theme, turn it into syncopated tune with results that would astonish the writer of the original work. Mr. Burns cites selections from "Cavalleria Rusticana" and "Madame Butterfly," treated a la Cubana, remarking in connection therewith: "When we have these records finished I intend sending Mascagni and Puccini a set, giving a brief description of their origination, and see what they will have to say." 0. K. Houck, of the O. K. Houck Piano Co., Memphis and Nashville, Tenn., is described by one of the attaches of the National Phonograph Co., Orange, N. J., as one of the best all around dealers in the country, not only in phonographs, etc., but pianos, musical instruments, etc. Years ago, long before his piano and music house was established, and for lack of a better opening he worked as a section hand on a Southern railroad. His aptitude for work, unflagging industry and attention to what had to be done, • won him friends and promotion. Mr. Houck at the time had acquired a sound education and his rise was rapid. In his stores he has established a rule that politeness to customers — not wearying attention— shall always be followed, even if no goods are sold. If present, he finds time to say a pleasant word or two to such people when about taking their departure. The result is that nine times out of ten the prospect returns and the sale is closed. In his talking machine department every facility for demonstrating goods is provided, and from what can be learned this branch of his business turns in a neat profit steadily. As the narrator phrased it, Mr. Houck is a model for any dealer who aims to maintain a successful business. That the Columbia Phonograph Co., General, are happy over the great vogue obtained for their double-disc records is strongly evidenced by the pleased manner and optimistic tone in which every department make their reports to General Manager Lyle. Recently George P. Metzger, the capable and versatile chief of the company's advertising and publicity department, submitted several unusually striking and effective show cards that struck the exacting fancy of Mr. Lyle as "just about right." As his chief passed his complimentary judgment, Mr. Metzger added: "The only thing now desired in the product of the company to make everybody happy Is to devise some means of molding a record on the Inside of the Indestructible Columbia and find a way to play it." At this point the genial general manager laughed merrily, and observed for the benefit of The World: "Don't forget to give Metzger credit for that great idea." You won't meet any autos in th' straight an' narrow path. A store full of customers does not necessarily make a successful merchant. The bank account at the end of the year is what tells the story. If an employe is dissatisfied, either meet his complaint or let him go.