NRR Project: 'Body and Soul' (1939)

 

NRR Project: ‘Body and Soul’

Composed by Johnny Green, lyrics by Edward Heyman, Robert Sour, Frank Eyton

Performed by Coleman Hawkins and His Orchestra

Recorded Oct. 11, 1939

3:02

 

First of all, I could not do better than the fantastic essay written by Stephen Rush for the National Recording Registry. Here it is, and it explicates the importance of this recording quite wonderfully.

Hawkins (1904-1969), originally from Missouri, gravitated to New York in the early 1920s. He is credited as one of the great jazz soloists, in league with Louis Armstrong and Lester Young. Here he improvises from the chord structure of the piece, largely ignoring the melody – a trend in music that would eventually develop into the bebop approach. By taking apart the song and riffing on its chord changes, he elevated the solo jazz instrument as an interpretive outlet for musicians who wanted to move past the more conservative playing of the 1920s and 1930s.

In other words, the piece is beautiful and deserves thoughtful listening.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: the Inkspots do ‘If I Didn’t Care’.

NRR Project: Casals plays the Bach Cello Suites

 

NRR Project: The Six Cello Suites

Composed by Johann Sebastian Bach

Performed by Pablo Casals

Recorded 1936, 1938, 1939

2 hr. 10 min.

This recording is unprecedented. The Bach Cello Suites are six pieces, each consisting of six movements, starting with a theme and then developing into movements based on various dance styles of his day. Like all of Bach’s work, the Suites are both mathematically precise and deeply emotional, raging from deep sadness to pure joy.

Pablo Casals (1876-1973) was born in Spain to a musical father. A child prodigy, Casals had mastered many instruments before choosing to devote himself to the cello. When he was 13, he found the music for the Suites in a second-hand music shop in Barcelona. For he next 13 years, he practiced the Suites daily. Finally, he began to perform the Suites in public.

Soon his reputation grew. He won awards; he played for Queen Victoria; he amassed an international reputation. However, it wasn’t until the Spanish Civil War and World War II uprooted him and sent him to travel in the Western countries that he felt ready to record the suites. Over several sessions in different cities, he accumulated a complete recording of all six pieces.

There is a lack of indication of emphasis in Bach’s manuscript, which leaves the interpretation up to the individual performer. Casals adopts a romantic approach to the music, bowing aggressively and passionately. The result is a revelatory experience, one that combines supreme technical competence with deep feeling. To sit down and really listen to the music is an experience that transports the listener to a higher plane. Casals took a bravura piece for solo instrument and made it into a personal statement that still resounds today. Even after countless subsequent recordings, his original take on the Cello Suites stands monumentally above them.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Coleman Hawkins plays Body and Soul.

NRR Project: Kate Smith sings 'God Bless America' (Nov. 11, 1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘God Bless America’

Composed by Irving Berlin

Sung by Kate Smith

Broadcast Nov. 11, 1938

4:13

Kate Smith (1907-1986) was one of the 20^th Century’s first entertainment stars, who hosted a radio variety show, from the beginning of network radio in the late ‘20s, for many decades. She was not only a beloved singer in her own right; she broke new acts onto the scene, like Abbott and Costello, Henny Youngman, and what would become The Aldrich Family.

She endured much negative attention for her weight, initially; she describes herself as weeping after particular performances in which she felt humiliated. However, through sheer talent and application, she won everyone over with some sweet and a few hot jazz numbers. Her signature song: “When the Moon Comes Over the Mountain.”

She was searching for a patriotic song to premiere over the air. She turned to America’s greatest songsmith, Irving Berlin, for a tune. Berlin reached into his pile of unused tunes and resurrected one from a 1918 military-themed review – “God Bless America.” Smith premiered it on Nov. 11 – what used to be referred to as Armistice Day – 1940.

In her excellent explanatory essay, which you can read here, Sheryl Kaskowitz analyzes the evolution of the song, especially in the fact of the usual removal of the opening verse, which is a bit dark and rueful, and refers to relief at being far from European conflicts. Smith dropped the opening and gave us the memorable chorus, an optimistic, marching beat that carries listeners along, that convinces them to sing along. It’s a very powerful song. But then again, Berlin was a genius.

This would become known as Smith’s other signature songs, one she would sing thousands of times in her career. It was “her” song. Not too shabby.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Pablo Casals plays Bach’s six Cello Suites.

Toscanini conducts Barber's Adagio for Strings (Nov. 5, 1938)

  

NRR Project: ‘Adagio for Strings’

Composed by Samuel Barber

Performed by Arturo Toscanini and the NBC Symphony

Broadcast Nov. 5, 1938

7:36

I could not do better than Barbara Heyman’s excellent essay on the piece, which you can readhere.

I can only add that the piece, a gentle ethereal rising of chords in the string section, slow and solemn, has always identified itself in my mind with death. It began with the media around the killing of John F. Kennedy, then cropped up consistently in times of mourning. It is deeply moving the first few times you hear it, but it has become oppressive through repetition.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Kate Smith sings God Bless America.

NRR Project: 'The War of the Worlds' panic -- Oct 30, 1938

 

NRR Project: ‘The War of the Worlds’

The Mercury Theatre on the Air

Broadcast Oct. 30, 1938

60 min.

The power of radio on the human mind was never so definitively demonstrated than on the night of Oct. 30, 1938. On that night, millions of people across America became convinced that Martians were attacking Earth.

Let’s back up a bit. Orson Welles (1915-1985) was a young genius who, at the unlikely age of 16, became a respected player in theater. He moved into radio, becoming the original voice of The Shadow, a popular thriller series. He mounted numerous plays, which led to him being selected to join the Federal Theatre Project, a government-subsidized arts program meant to offer employment to thousands of underemployed actors and technicians.

In 1936, Welles opened his “voodoo Macbeth” in New York, an adaptation of the play with an all-Black ensemble, which proved a huge success. Welles mounted more plays, growing in fme and reputation. In 1937, he staged a seven-part radio adaptation of Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables on CBS, which proved to be a hit also. At this early stage in his career, everything he did was golden.

The success of his radio project led him to form, with producer John Houseman, the Mercury Theatre on the Air, a network-sustained hour-long program that adapted key works of literature and dramaturgy. Their first broadcast was Dracula, on July 11, 1938 on CBS.

Welles was a master of conveying meaning and feeling through sound alone. He and his hard-working crew of regulars – including Everett Sloane, Ray Collins, Joseph Cotton, and Agnes Moorehead – whipped up an engaging and ambitious broadcast, week after week. They were competing against the very popular Chase and Sanborn Hour, starring ventriloquist Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, which played on NBC at the same time. It was their decision to mount H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds on Halloween Eve, 1938, that made them famous – or rather, infamous – overnight.

The writer assigned to the script, Howard Koch, found the adaptation frustrating. How could he convincingly portray an invasion of Earth by the inhabitants of Mars in a realistic and frightening way? Koch, assistant Anne Froelich, Houseman, and associate producer Paul Stewart hammered away at the script desperately, up against a strict deadline. Finally, they hit on setting the invasion in America instead of England, as it was in Wells’ novel, and to make it sound like the invasion was unfolding in real time, with fake news bulletins and eyewitness accounts of the mayhem.

That night, many listeners, having heard Bergen and McCarthy do their opening comedy routine, twiddled the dial to CBS and tuned in to what sounded like a genuine invasion. People panicked. The CBS switchboard lit up with alarmed calls. Thousands hit the streets, or drove frantically away from the supposed origin of the attack – Grover’s Mill, New Jersey.

The first 40 minutes of the program, which had no advertising to interrupt it, continued to sketch scenes of horror as the Martians rapidly took over the planet. At the 40-minute mark, the show’s announcer reminded the audience that it was listening to an adaptation of The War of the Worlds. (A more conventionally narrated conclusion took place after the announcement.) By then it was too late. An incensed crowd of police and reporters jammed the halls of CBS, looking for Welles and company. A shocked and shamefaced Welles emerged from the broadcast studio and apologized for the convincing deception.

The panic was the top story in all the newspapers of the day. Commentators inveighed against Welles. He thought his career was over.

Surprisingly, after a few weeks of world-wide attention, The Mercury Theatre on the Air got a sponsor and became the well-regarded Campbell Playhouse, continuing to put out radio adaptations for another two years. Welles was picked up by Hollywood, and proceeded to make Citizen Kane.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Barber’s Adagio for Strings.

NRR Project: Abbott and Costello, "Who's on First?" routine -- Oct. 6, 1938

 

NRR Project: ‘Who’s on First?’ routine

Performers: Bud Abbott and Lou Costello

Broadcast Oct. 6, 1938

6 min.

From the late 1930s through the mid-‘50’s, the top comedy duo in America was Bud Abbott and Lou Costello. Bud was the tall, thin straight man; Lou was the short, fat laugh-getter. Their lightning-fast routines used word confusion and misdirection to stun audiences into laughter.

They worked together first in vaudeville and burlesque houses; they got their big break on the radio show The Kate Smith Hour on Feb. 3, 1938. They first performed their “Who’s on First? bit on March 24, 1938. (The first surviving recording of this bit took place on Oct. 6, 1938.) Immensely and immediately popular, the duo got their own 30-minute summer replacement show for Fred Allen in 1940. After that, they joined The Chase and Sanborn Hour in 1941, and landed their own show again in 1942.

Meanwhile, they started making movies as well. From 1940 through 1956, they made no less than 35 films, approximately three a year. They were the top box-office draw for may of those years. When television came along, they did that too, from 1952 through 1954. They were finally dethroned as a comedy duo by up-and-comers Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis.

“Who’s on First?” is a classic sketch, definitely the best-known of their bits and one of the classic comedy bits of all time. It revolves around baseball players’ nicknames. Bud announces that on his team are Who, on first; What, on second, and I Don’t Know on third. “Who’s on first?” asks Lou. “Yes,” answers Bud. “Look, all I want to know is what’s the guy’s name on first,” says Lou. “What’s on second,” answers Bud. “I don’t know!” says Lou. “Third base,” answers Bud.

And things go haywire from there. Lou gets more and more worked up, at one point saying, “I’ll break your arm if you say who’s on first again!” he hollers. Eventually, Lou gives up. “I don’t care,” he proclaims. “Oh,” replies Bud, “that’s out shortstop!”

The routine itself is fairly old; so old, in fact, that it was held in the public domain until the boys copyrighted it in 1944. They did the routine hundreds, if not thousands, of times – live, on the radio, on film, and on TV. It became their signature routine.

The sketch is so well-known that it plays in perpetuity at the Baseball Hall of Fame.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: The War of the Worlds.

NRR Project: Joe Louis-Max Schmeling prizefight -- June 22, 1938

 

NRR Project: The Joe Louis-Max Schmeling fight

Announcer: Clem McCarthy

Broadcast June 22, 1938

2:04

This recording is important not for its inherent memorability – it is after all just the record of a short boxing match. What makes it significant is the meaning placed onto the fight by virtue of its contestants – a Black American and a white German, on the eve of World War II.

Joe Louis, “the Brown Bomber,” was a contender for the heavyweight boxing crown when he faced Schmeling in 1936. Schmeling defeated him in 12 rounds. Louis wanted a rematch, and he became a prized opponent after winning the heavyweight championship against Jim Braddock. Schmeling wanted to defeat him and take the title.

The camps in opposition were fervid. The entire African American community, of course, supported Louis, as did defenders of democracy. The Nazis and the racists sided with Schmeling. The contest was to prove who was superior – the Black man or the white man.

The bout was held at a sold-out Yankee Stadium. It is estimated that 70 million Americans tuned in the to fight on the radio. Behind the mike was the veteran sports announcer Clem McCarthy. Louis was in fine shape, and battered the poor Schmeling incessantly from the word go. Finally, with only a couple of minutes gone in the first round, Schmeling surrendered. Louis was heavyweight champion of the world by technical knockout.

The country exploded with glee. Hitler’s theories of white racial superiority were disproved emphatically. Joe Louis successfully defended his title 25 times after that, remaining heavyweight champion until 1949, the longest reign in heavyweight history. Schemling got drafted into the German army.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Who’s on First?

NRR Project: Korngold's score for 'The Adventures of Robin Hood' (1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’

Composed by Eric Wolfgang Korngold

Performed by Eric Wolfgang Korngold and the Warner Brothers Studio Orchestra

Narrated by Basil Rathbone

Broadcast May 11, 1938

33 min.

Eric Wolfgang Korngold’s score for the 1938 movie The Adventures of Robin Hood is a classic, right up there with other key scores of the era such as Max Steiner’s for King Kong (1933) and Franz Waxman’s for The Bride of Frankenstein (1935). Korngold had already proved himself as a classical composer with works such as his magnificent 1920 opera, Die tote stadt. Escaping the Nazis, he moved to Hollywood in 1934 and began composing for films.

He referred to his Robin Hood score as an “opera without music,” and it certainly bears relation to the genre with its numerous themes, which are developed much in the same way as operatic ones. Warner Brothers knew they had a gem of a score on their hands, and they moved to utilize it to promote the film. Three days before the movie’s premiere, on May 11, 1938, they broadcast a special rendition of excerpts of the score, bridged by narration from actor Basil Rathbone, on NBC radio live.

The result was an electrifying rendition of the music, listened to by millions. It further legitimized the film score as an art form. And, at that year's Oscars, Korngold won the prize for Best Original Score. The score (or rather a suite from it) is still performed by major orchestras. The music stands on its own as a marvelous piece of work.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: the Joe Louis-Max Schmeling fight.

NRR Project: Benny Goodman's Carnegie Hall concert -- Jan. 16, 1938

 

NRR Project: ‘Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert’

Performed by Benny Goodman and his Orchestra

Recorded Jan. 16, 1938

2 hours, 2 minutes

Wow. Some recordings have that special quality that rewards repeated listenings. These are the classics. And Benny Goodman’ Carnegie Hall concert is one of those, and absolute classic that documents the moment jazz shed its disreputable and superficial connotations and came into its own as an art form.

Nobody knew how a jazz concert in the hallowed precincts of Carnegie Hall would be received by the pubic. Jazz was perceived as primarily a vehicle for dance music (save for those early jazz connoisseurs who were already hip). To everyone’s surprise, the concert sold out quickly – extra chairs were placed on stage to accommodate even more listeners.

Goodman was ready to deliver the goods. A perfectionist, he rehearsed his band at the venue itself until it was pitch-perfect. And what a lineup of players! Drummer Gene Krupa and trumpeter Harry James were part of the band. Also present were pianist Teddy Wilson and vibraphonist Lionel Hampton. Significantly, these last two musicians were Black – and Goodman insisted on their participation, breaking the color line in music for all time.

Remarkably, Goodman treated the concert as a teaching opportunity. Rather than just play his hits, he put in a four-song section that outlined the history of jazz. He included numbers by Count Basie and Duke Ellington, and he welcomed some of their players into the concert as well. Count Basie is here, and so is Cootie Williams. Goodman inserted a jam session on “Honeysuckle Rose” that included the great tenor sax legend Lester Yong, alto sax man Johnny Hodges, and trumpeter Buck Clayton. This inclusive, generous approach meant that the enthusiastic audience would get a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Goodman breaks down his band into a small trio and quartet for some of the songs. The great vocalist Martha Tilton gets a couple of numbers. You can actually hear the musicians get warmed up and looser as the concert progresses. Then the band comes together again for an epic rendition of “Sing, Sing, Sing,” Goodman’s signature piece. A couple of encores later, the enthusiastic crowd is sent home.

The concert cemented the idea that jazz was a legitimate, complex, and powerful art form. For anyone who wants to understand what jazz is all about, this recording is indispensable. Man, could they swing!

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Korngold’s ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’ score.

NRR Project: 'When You Wish Upon a Star' (1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘When You Wish Upon a Star’

Music by Leigh Harline; lyrics by Ned Washington

Recorded by Ciff ‘Ukulele Ike’ Edwards and the Disney Studio Chorus

Recorded 1938

3:15

Not much to say about this one. Read James M. Bohn’s excellent essay here, which outlines the song’s history and analyzes its components.

It’s a sentimental ballad, from the animated Disney feature Pinocchio (1940). It’s sung by the character of Jiminy Cricket, who serves as the puppet-boy’s conscience. The insect is voiced by Cliff “Ukulele Ike” Edwards, by that time a well-loved vaudeville tenor who accompanied himself, of course, on the ukulele.

It won the Oscar for best song, and has become the theme song of the Disney corporation. It asserts that wishing can make dreams come true. If you are sentimental, this song is right up your alley. If not . . . then it is tolerable.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Benny Goodman’s Carnegie Hall Jazz Concert.

NRR Project: 'When the Saints Go Marching In' (1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’

Traditional

Recorded by Louis Armstrong & his Orchestra

Recorded 1938

2:41

First, read Ricky Riccardi’s excellent essay on the song here. I have but little to add to it.

“When the Saints Go Marching In” was originally a hymn, sung slowly and reverently. However, in New Orleans, where Louis Armstrong grew up, the song was played with a bouncier, more upbeat rhythm as the band accompanying a funeral would play it on its way back from the cemetery. This is the version Armstrong wanted to record.

He met with resistance. In 1931, his then-label dissuaded him from recording it. Finally, under a new label, Decca, he got a chance to set it down on shellac. The recording was released timidly, but immediately became a major seller. Its infectious energy, and the jubilation behind the song is palpable. It is a joyously positive statement.

Many people didn’t feel that way about it. Sixty churches protested against a hymn being rendered in jazz style; they didn’t feel that the secular and the sacred should be mixed so. However, Armstrong loved the song and played it consistently to the end of his career.

Since then, multiple artists have made the transition from gospel to jazz, rhythm and blues, and rock, including Aretha Franklin, Sam Cooke, Ray Charles, and Sly Stone. Gospel music itself has become more swinging and infectious, too. It seems that the marriage of the sacred and the secular is a successful one.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: When You Wish Upon A Star.

NRR Project: Bruno Walter conducts Mahler's Ninth Symphony (1938)

 

NRR Project: Symphony No. 9

Composed by Gustav Mahler

Recorded by the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra

Conducted by Bruno Walter

Recorded Jan. 16, 1938

71 min.

This recording of Mahler’s final completed symphony is significant in that it was one of the last times Jewish musicians were permitted to play in what was soon to be Nazi-controlled Austria.

The conductor, Bruno Walter, was a protégé of Mahler’s, and conducted the premiere of Symphony No. 9 on June 26, 1912, approximately one year after Mahler’s death. The artistic director of the HMV recording outfit, Fred Gaisberg, had a vision of recording the symphony with the same orchestra, the same conductor, and the same venue as at its premiere. This he accomplished after many rehearsals and much tricky work with the recording devices.

The result is an enthusiastic and ethereal journey through Mahler’s concluding musical thoughts. Walter directs with precision wedded to passion, producing an extraordinary recording that is still held up as a supreme example of the recording art almost a century after its creation.

The Nazis invaded Austria shortly after this recording was made, 13 Jewish musicians were dismissed from the orchestra. Walter, a Jew himself, went into exile. Mahler’s music, deemed “Jewish” (Mahler, born Jewish, converted to Catholicism in 1897), was forbidden by the Third Reich. It would take the end of World War II to restore Mahler and Walter to the public eye in Germany. And the terminated musicians? Many were killed in the Holocaust.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Louis Armstrong records When the Saints Go Marching In.

NRR Project: Jelly Roll Morton and the Lomax interviews (1938)

 

NRR Project: The Jelly Roll Morton interviews

Recorded by Alan Lomax

Recorded 1938

9 hours

Jelly Roll Morton (1884?-1941, originally Ferdinand LeMothe) was jazz’s first great composer and arranger. In fact, he claimed to have invented jazz.

He got his start playing piano in the whorehouses of New Orleans, where he developed his style, which moved from the ragtime of the day into something we identify now as early jazz. After that, he toured the country, played in vaudeville, made some recordings, and published many song and instrumental pieces. His career faded in the early 1930s, and he moved from gig to gig, scraping by.

In 1938, the great musical anthropologist Alan Lomax heard him play at a Washington D.C. area bar, and convinced him to sit down with him in the Library of Congress and be recorded. What followed is the remarkable self-portrait of a man in words, extending for nine solid hours of recording time.

In these interviews, Jelly Roll sits at the piano, convulsively vamping as her tells stories of his early life in New Orleans, his claims of originating jazz music, and giving us a portrait of a night-life society he inhabited, full of bad, bad men and loose women. He gives us a remarkable portrait of a time and place that, full of untruths or not, give the listener a unique and concrete sense of the music’s origins. (Please note: some of Jelly Roll's memories are quite obscene and are studded with profanity.)

If you listen to all nine hours, you will hear these stories, and many great musical numbers (and their variants). Morton plays brilliantly, with all his fire. He sings, he scats with ease. It’s as if he’s providing his last will and testament in music, setting things straight for the record. He plays the “Tiger Rag,” the “Kansa City Stomp,” “Lay Me a Pallet on the Floor,” “Wolverine Blues,” “The Pearls,” and more.

Morton is an engaging speaker, full of himself and always ready to toot his own horn. He could be termed a braggart if not for the genuine genius in his playing. We have very few witnesses from that time that got to make their say. Jelly Roll got his chance, and he makes brilliant use of it.

The recordings are a priceless piece of history, essential listening for anyone who loves jazz.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Bruno Walter conducts Mahler.

NRR Project: 'John the Revelator' (1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘John the Revelator’

Music and lyrics by Blind Willie Johnson

Performed by the Golden Gate Quartet

Recorded 1938

3:01

First of all, you have to read the explanatory essay by Kathyrn Kemp, which you can click onhere. It is outstanding, and tells you pretty much everything you need to know.

The evolution of gospel music is well worth looking into. How did religious music switch from solemn hymn-singing to the vibrant and jubilant sound of gospel music? The Golden Gate Quartet is one of the leading purveyors of what was this new kind of music. Integrating elements of the blues, close-harmony singing, and a throbbing beat, early gospel music was compelling and propulsive.

Many in the religious community objected to what they perceived as the secularization of church music. It took several years of success with the pubic to make the scoffers change their minds. Once adopted, the thrilling vocal techniques that give gospel its pep became an entry point into faith. (Later on, some gospel performers made the transition into rhythm and blues, most notably Aretha Franklin and Sam Cooke.)

The Golden Gate Quartet attacks the song with fervor, with the supporting voices forming a chugging, insistent background to the verbal curlicues of the lead singer. The energy and feeling is intense, even transcendent.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: the Jelly Roll Morton interviews.

Resistance persistence

 

“The summer solider and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.” -- Thomas Paine, Dec. 23, 1776

You are living in a police state. If you don’t know this by now, you missed the transition. It was as fast as the snapping-off of a light; one day we were a functioning democracy, the next armed, unidentified militant gangs were kidnapping innocent people off the streets and throwing them into concentration camps.

This is a fundamental problem. The current presidential administration is reportedly considering suspending the writ of habeas corpus (the right of an accused person to be brought before a judge, not held imprisoned indefinitely). However, in effect, this right has already been suspended for those suspected (not proven) to be in the country illegally, and for those who exercise freedom of speech that the government dislikes.

There is so much more malfeasance on top of this. Besides the staggering amount of corrupt, fortune-enhancing activities by the rich men who would run our country for their benefit, there is action against Black people, Latinx people, women, LGBTQ+ people . . . in fact, anyone not aligned with straight white Christian patrimony.

The other two branches of the federal government have already let us down. The Congress has proven itself unequal to the task of striking down these egregious criminals. The Supreme Court has enabled the dysfunction. It turns out that the checks and balances that preserved our free democratic state only work if the will to work them is there. This is a responsibility those supposedly in power have shirked, to our collective detriment.

That’s the bad news. The good news is, you can do something about it.

The ultimate political power in the United States is wielded by the people. Our consent is required for the conduct of government, for good or evil. Yet this power of consent has been largely abandoned; 90 million people did not vote in the last election, a number that is more than the number of votes either presidential candidate received. In short, too many people really don’t seem to give a shit about their quality of life, the right of their neighbors to live a peaceful life, or their children’s future.

Those who don’t actively resist these developments are in the same boat with those perpetrating them. Silence is consent. Do you really want to be on the side of the fascists? Of course not. Well, that means you need to go off your ass and do something about it. Compliance is complicity.

As the Declaration of Independence tells us, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.”

The almost insurmountable obstacle here is indifference. Resistance requires participation in the democratic process, through the use of your First Amendment rights of peaceful protest and freedom of speech. These must be exercised, frequently and energetically, in order to combat the erosion of liberties. Politicians don’t listen to a few dissenters, but as those numbers increase, so the mandate for change is more effectively promoted.

Now, here’s the problem – resistance is exhausting. There is no immediate gratification involved in resistance; it is hard to measure progress and daunting when it seems to change nothing. Here are some tips for persisting in resistance:

1.     It’s a job

The United States of America was founded on the principle of individual freedom and autonomy. With this principle, however, comes a responsibility. We are in charge, and we need to act like it. You are a boss. Resistance should become a daily practice, part of your routine. It’s a full-time job. You can write or call your representatives daily (5 Calls is a great phone app for that, for example). You can make a sign and march in the streets. You can spread the word. You can stand up when someone tries to take away the rights of those around you who are targeted for oppression.

Now, is it fair that this amount of effort needs to expended, when you already have a life with plenty of demands on your time? No, it’s not. Too bad. We are all part of this ongoing experiment, and our participation in a free society means that, in time of crisis, we have to do pain-in-the-ass things to a bunch of pain-in-the-ass people. In a time when our vision of good government is under assault, it means you have to gird your loins and grind out acts of justice, acts of mercy, acts of compassion, on a daily basis. If you thrive on defiance, there is plenty to go around. 

2.     Lessen the stressin’

In order to sustain any kind of effort, you need resources – not only physical, but mental and emotional. Protest can be draining, especially when you don’t see the fruits of your actions right away. This means you need to step up your self-care. Be nice to yourself. Make time for those activities that make you feel human. There will be days when it all seems hopeless. It’s OK to feel down and discouraged. It just takes that little bit of extra effort to get back up again and take it on the chin, and continue to resist.

But, take breaks. Obsessing about all the bad news coming down the pike can lead to hyper-vigilance, paranoia, perpetual agitation, analysis paralysis. Get away from the headlines, the doomscrolling. Make room for friends and family, for laughs, for art, for music, or something silly, anything, something simple that brings you joy. In this way you can recharge your batteries. In this way, you can stop dictators from living rent-free in your head. 

3.     All together now

 Form alliances. If you are out there busily standing up to bullies, you will inevitably come into contact with similar-minded people. Develop these relationships, make friends, exchange contact information. Look for groups that align with your sensibilities and join them. There always have been and still are many organizations fighting for justice. Get involved. If change is to take place, it will only do so if a preponderance of people get up on their feet and make their voices heard.

Now, is there safety in numbers? Probably not. Anybody who steps out of line, who refuses to cooperate, who calls the bastards out on their shit, has the potential to be a target. If you resist, the odds are that sooner or later you will suffer for it. The alternative, however, is a miserable life controlled by greedy, sadistic ideologues who don’t care about you or your values.

Welcome to the Resistance. No kings.

NRR Project: Franz Boas and George Herzog Recording of Kwakwaka’wakw Chief Dan Cranmer (1938)

 

NRR Project: Franz Boas and George Herzog Recordings of Kwakwaka’wakw Chief Dan Cranmer

Recorded 1938

I have not much to say about this entry. The explanatory essay of Rainer Hatoum covers the ground thoroughly and expertly; read it here. The recordings are filed away safely in research libraries but are not readily available to the general public.

Cultural anthropologist Franz Boas had been exploring Inuit and Northwest Native American culture since the 1880s. First using fragile wax cylinders, then more hardy media such as acetate-coated aluminum discs, he recorded all he could of tribal songs, rituals, and stories. These recordings saved the lore of the Kwakwaka’wakw people and for that we can be grateful.

Unfortunately, the trend of scientific interest in Native American culture developed only after the decimation of the millions of Native Americans who were wiped out by white predation. Artifacts such as these represent a belated but sincere effort to increase understanding, knowledge, and tradition.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: John the Revelator.

NRR Project: Sol Ho'opi'i plays 'Fascinating Rhythm' (1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘Fascinating Rhythm’

Music by George Gershwin; Lyrics by Ira Gershwin

Performed by Sol Ho’opi’i and His Novelty Five

Recorded 1938

2:46

First, read the explanatory essay by Guy Cundell; it’s top-notch! He knows his stuff.

This performance is an example of the mutation and development of a certain kind of instrument and a certain kind of music. The “steel guitar” is simply a guitar played utilizing a steel bar on the strings, thus the name. The tradition of laying the guitar flat and playing it that way originated in Hawaii, and when electric guitars were invented, the first kind produced were steel guitars.

Sol Ho’opi’i was a genius on the instrument, and in this selection, you can hear him ringing the changes, improvising wildly as he plows through several choruses of the song, backed up by a subdued but steady supporting cast of rhythm players. Though couched in the chords familiar from Hawaiian tunes, this version of the Gershwin’s “Fascinating Rhythm” is really a jazz piece.

As Ho’opi’I plays, he goes farther and farther out with his chromatic leaps and chord changes, demonstrating the versatility of the instrument. Playing like this developed other instruments such as the dobro, a favorite of bluegrass musicians, also played flat and with a bar. Country music would pick up on the distinctive sound and adapt it to their own uses as well.

It’s a great example of a marginal, minority-made music making its way into the culture, transforming it and itself at the same time.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Franz Boas and George Herzog recording of Kwakwaka’wakw Chief Dan Cranmer.

NRR Project: 'The Cradle Will Rock' (1937)

 

NRR Project: ‘The Cradle Will Rock’

Music, Lyrics, and Libretto by Mark Blitzstein

Performed by the Federal Theater Project

Recorded 1938

55 min.

It was the show they could not kill, and it’s still relevant today.

It was the brainchild of Mark Blitzstein (1905-1964), an American composer, lyricist, and librettist of some, er, note. He was a child prodigy; fortunately, he came from an affluent family and could afford to continue his musical studies. He learned his craft at the Curtis Institute of Music, and from European mentors such as Arnold Schoenberg and Nadia Boulanger.

Although initially averse to the work of modern composers such as Kurt Weill (who composed The Threepenny Opera with playwright Bertolt Brecht in Berlin in 1928), he gradually came around to using their style. This approach wedded lyrical scoring with bluesy, angular, vernacular tunes. Additionally, he used Sprechgesang, a German expressionist approach that weds speech and singing. As a result, his work on Cradle was very reminiscent of composers of the day such as Weill and Hans Eisler.

Blitzstein was a confirmed leftist, and he didn’t care who knew it. He played a musical sketch on prostitution for a visiting Brecht, who encouraged him to expand and develop it. He stated, “There is prostitution for gain in so many walks of life: the artist, the preacher, the doctor, the lawyer, the newspaper editor. Why don't you put them against this scene of literal selling.” Blitzstein got to work on the bitterly satiric fable that is Cradle.

In it, a prostitute in Steeltown, U.S.A. is picked up for soliciting and brought to night court. There she meets a timid druggist who has lost his store after witnessing an anti-union bomb that killed his son and three others. Also in the court is the town’s anti-union Liberty Committee, mistakenly arrested as union sympathizers. This group begins to bleat for Mr. Mister, the town’s leading industrialist, to bail them out.

One by one, each of the community leaders is co-opted by Mr. Mister, whose economic power means that what he says, goes. Reverend Salvation, newspaper Editor Daily, college President Prexy, Doctor Specialist, and artist Yasha and Dauber all kowtow to him, and follow his orders to support the conduct of war (in order to sell more steel), and to suppress of the working man.

Into this situation steps union organizer Larry Foreman. Mr. Mister tries to bribe him, but Foreman rejects him and summons the people to rally for solidarity and united action. “When the wind blows, the cradle will rock!” he sings.

At this point in American history, socialist thought was at the forefront of the culture. Violent strikes had marred the landscape, and Communism had not yet been discredited. Blitzstein played the score for New York theater groups, to no avail. Finally, he played it for the 21-year-old wunderkind actor and director Orson Welles, who then advocated for the play’s mounting to producer John Houseman, who was with the Federal Theatre Project, a New Deal government entity that funded arts and entertainment programs across the country.

The opera went forward. Rehearsals began in March of 1937. A theater was hired, elaborate sets were built, costumes were constructed, an orchestra was assembled. However – right-wing politicians got wind of the plan to mount a pro-labor show on Broadway, and behind the scenes they sought to cancel the production. Using the excuse of budget cuts, the show was targeted for shutdown. On June 14, the opera had its dress rehearsal; on June 15, the government padlocked the theater. Sets and props and costumes were trapped inside, unusable.

Performances were already sold out, and the play had nowhere to go. Finally, on June 16, Houseman found another vacant Broadway theater, and quickly rented it. The cast, the crew, and an audience of 600 marched 21 blocks north to it, and prepared to present the show in a bare-bones version.

Ironically, the musician’s union nixed the use of the orchestra, and Actors’ Equity wouldn’t allow anyone onstage without the assent of the original producer – the U.S. government, technically. But the players refused to admit defeat. Blitzstein sat at the piano onstage, pounding out the score solo. In the audience, cast members sat among the audience members, leaping to their feet when it was their turn to sing.

The result was electrifying. The rebellious energy of the performers met with the enthusiasm of the crowd, and the applause at the end was deafening. The show lived. Two days later, the Theatre Guild stepped up to produce the opera, and soon it was being seen in New York and across the country.

The recording is posited as the first complete recording of a Broadway show. The censorship of the show led Welles and Houseman to form the Mercury Theatre, soon to be noted for its dynamic and controversial offerings.

To this day, it remains a wry, beautiful testament to the struggle of working people to overcome the domination of moneyed interests in American society. In 90 years, there is still plenty of inequity to be opposed. Not much has changed.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Sol Hoopii and his Novelty Five play Fascinating Rhythm.

NRR Project: The Andrews Sisters sing 'Bei Mir Bistu Shein' (1937)

 

NRR Project: ‘Bei Mir Bistu Shein’

Written by Jacob Jacobs, Sholom Secunda/Sammy Cahn, Saul Chaplin

Performed by the Andrews Sisters

Recorded Nov. 24, 1937

3:10

This amazingly catchy song made the Andrew Sisters’ career; it boasts not one but two origin stories. Its tale is a twisted one.

The song was originally composed by Sholom Secunda and Jacob Jacobs for the 1932 Yiddish musical, I Would If I Could (Men Ken Lebn Nor Men Lost Nisht, or “You Could Live, But They Won’t Let You”.) Though the musical is justly forgotten, this single song from the score meandered through the Jewish-American culture of the day, becoming extremely popular in Jewish resorts and on Jewish bandstands. (“Bei Mir Bistu Shein” translates as “To Me You’re Beautiful”.)ar

However, despite attempts to sell it to big-name entertainers, the songwriters wound up selling the rights for a mere $30. Now, one of two things happened. First, Jenny Grossinger of Grossinger’s Catskills Resort taught to the African-American singing duo Johnnie and George. Then Johnny and George performed it at New York’s Apollo Theater, where songwriter Sammy Cahn heard it and saw its potential.

The second version is that bandleader Vic Schoen discovered the sheet music in a Yiddish music store, then passed it along to music publisher Lou Levy, who passed it to Cahn. Ultimately, Cahn and Saul Chaplin crafted catchy English-language lyrics after record producer Joe Kapp rejected a Yiddish-language recording of the song.

The Andrews Sisters, Patty, Maxene, and LaVerne, had been singing together since they were 7, and had been supporting the family as performers since the age of 12. Up to this point in their careers, they lived in the shadow of America’s first great close-harmony sister act, the Boswell Sisters. However, the Boswells had broken up in 1936. The stage was empty, and the Andrews Ssiters stepped in.

Their approach is jaunty and swinging, with much more of aa rat-tat-tat precision edge in comparison to the Boswells, who had a much smoother, silky finish to their vocals. They pop the delivery and swing hard, backed up by  solid musical ensemble. Saucily, the English lyricists turned the dilemma of adequately translating a foreign song into the central conceit of the song itself. The words are memorable:

“Of all the boys I've known, and I've known some

Until I first met you, I was lonesome
And when you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light
And this old world seemed new to me

You're really swell, I have to admit you
Deserve expressions that really fit you
And so I've racked my brain, hoping to explain
All the things that you do to me

Bei mir bist du schoen, please let me explain
Bei mir bist du schoen means you're grand
Bei mir bist du schoen, again I'll explain
It means you're the fairest in the land

I could say "Bella, bella", even say "Sehr wunderbar"
Each language only helps me tell you how grand you are
I've tried to explain, bei mir bist du schoen
So kiss me and say you understand”

The song was insanely popular. It sold a quarter of a million records, and more than 100,000 copies of sheet music Within three months, at least six other recording artists tackled it. It made the Andrews Sisters career, and they became one of the best-known participants in the Swing Era.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: The Cradle Will Rock.

NRR Project: Artie Shaw plays 'Begin the Beguine' (1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘Begin the Beguine’

Written by Cole Porter

Performed by Artie Shaw and his Orchestra

Recorded July 24, 1938

3:14

“Begin the Beguine” was the tune that made Artie Shaw’s career. He hated it.

“’Begin the Beguine’ is a pretty nice tune. But not when you have to play it 500 times in a row,” he said.

The great songwriter Cole Porter wrote it while on a cruise ship in the Pacific. (The beguine is a Latin dance somewhat like a slow rumba.) It premiered in October 1935, in the musical Jubilee. It achieved minor notice at the time, and was covered by Xavier Cugat and his orchestra in its original rhythm.

But when Shaw selected the song for his own orchestra, he and arranger Jerry Gray decided to swing it in 4/4 time. The tune was not thought to be a winner; it was released on the B side of a record featuring “Indian Love Call” on the other side.

Its success was undeniable. Above the solid rendition of the melody in the horns, Shaw’s clarinet soars gracefully above it. It’s upbeat and catchy as hell, and the nation went nuts over it. It became the top-selling recording of 1938. The song made Shaw and his band famous, opening the door for them. Soon Shaw was all over the radio, and headlining sold-out concerts around the country.

However, Shaw was not pleased. He was unique in that he continually tried to stretch the boundaries of what was possible musically. Unlike other musical geniuses such as Duke Ellington, Shaw was extremely difficult to deal with. He was not content to simply play popular dance music, forming and re-forming units of musicians in order to work out his ideas.

"I don't attempt to ram hackneyed, insipid tunes down the public's throat,” he wrote, “just because they've been artificially hypoed to the so-called 'hit' class. This policy of trying to maintain some vestige of musical integrity has, naturally, earned me enemies, people who think I'm a longhair, impressed with my own ability. Nothing could be farther from the truth. My faith in dance music — I refuse to call it swing — borders on the fanatic. I have the utmost respect for the many real musicians who are creating a new music as important as the classics . . .”

For instance, in 1935 he created “Interlude in B-flat,” which featured just him, a rhythm section, and a string quartet. In 1940 he formed the Gramercy Five, which included a harpsichord and an electric guitar. He would cut a few sides with a given ensemble, then disbanded, moving on to the formation of yet another group. (He ran through eight wives as well.)

He had a great ear for talent. Among his hires were drummer Buddy Rich, singer Billie Holiday, Lena Horne, Mel Torme, Ray Coniff. With them, he continued to hammer at the idea of making jazz more than just popular fodder. It helped that Shaw was (in my opinion) the greatest clarinetist of the era, looser in approach than Benny Goodman and more robust than Sidney Bechet. He has a beautiful tone, and is an endlessly inventive improviser.

After a tour in 1954, Shaw put down his instrument for decades, citing his insatiable perfectionism as a cause. In fact, it was this and his emotional abusiveness that doomed his marriages and his music-making. He moved on to other concerns; he wrote an excellent autobiography, The Trouble with Cinderella.

Eventually, in his 70s he returned to the instrument and played a bit here and there. He was still a lyrical performer, decades after his first big success.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: the Andrew Sisters sing ‘Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen’.

NRR Project: The Wisconsin Folksong Collection (1937-1946)

 

NRR Project: The Wisconsin Folksong Collection

Collected by Sidney Robertson and Helene Stratman-Thomas

Collected 1937 - 1946

I could not do better than James P. Leary’s excellent explanatory essay on the selection, which you can read here.

Essentially, two different researchers, Sidney Robertson and Helene Stratman-Thomas, traveled through the state of Wisconsin, recording more than 900 folk songs, many in the languages that immigrants brought with them when they came to America.

Here is the first example I have found of an extensive collection for the Registry which has been digitized and can be searched or leafed through online (find it here). Waltzes, polkas, ballads, laments – it’s all here and available for your perusal.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Artie Shaw plays Begin the Beguine.

NRR Project: The Lone Ranger -- 'The Osage Bank Robbery' (Dec. 17, 1937)

 

Earle Graser, the first great impersonator of the Masked Rider of the Plains.

NRR Project: The Lone Ranger – “The Osage Bank Robbery”

Written by Fran Striker

Directed by James Jewell

Broadcast Dec. 17, 1937

“He is simply the best-known hero of the West ever created,” writes radio historian John Dunning, and of course he is right. It is a fact that the one character dramatic radio produced that survived its heyday, and that remains known throughout the culture, is the one and only Lone Ranger.

His creator George W. Trendle referred to him as “the embodiment of answered prayer.” He was the most upright of heroes, a vigilante lawman of the Old West who went masked and never stopped to receive thanks from those he saved from the clutches of evil. He did not drink, or smoke, or curse. According to Fran Striker, the man whose prolific writing brought him to life, the Lone Ranger even had a creed – 

“1. I believe that to have a friend, a man must be one.

2. That all men are created equal and that everyone has within himself the power to make this a better world.

3. That God put the firewood there, but that every man must gather and light it himself.

4. In being prepared physically, mentally, and morally to fight when necessary for that which is right.

5. That a man should make the most of what equipment he has.

6. That ‘this government, of the people, by the people, and for the people,’ shall live always.

7. That men should live by the rule of what is best for the greatest number.

8. That sooner or later... somewhere... somehow... we must settle with the world and make payment for what we have taken.

9. That all things change, but the truth, and the truth alone lives on forever.

10. I believe in my Creator, my country, my fellow man.”

He was incorruptible, honest, utterly and unswervingly dependable. He never had romantic doings with women, that we knew of. He spoke correct English, and never misused it. He fired his pistols expertly, only to disarm, never to wound or kill. He was a saint in cowboy gear.

As the best-known opening narration of the show stated so eloquently:

“With his faithful Indian companion, the daring and resourceful masked rider of the plains led the fight for law and order in the early Western United States. Nowhere in the pages of history can one find a greater champion of justice. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past come the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse Silver! The Lone Ranger rides again!”

His origin story is mythic. He is one of six Texas Rangers who were ambushed at Bryant’s Gap by the outlaw Butch Cavendish and his gang. Surrounded and outgunned, all the Rangers were killed – save one, John Reid who was mortally wounded and left for dead. Reid is found and nursed back to health by a childhood friend, the Native American, Tonto, who also digs six graves so that no one will know he survived. Reid swears to avenge the death of his fellow Rangers by upholding the principles of truth and justice. He is ready to take on a new identity.

“You lone Ranger now,” comments Tonto. And the man is born.

He was born on Jan. 31, 1933, via station WXYZ in Detroit. The station’s owner, the aforementioned Trendle, left his association with the CBS network, losing access to its shows. He determined to operate independently, and starting searching for a show that would be a hit.

He settled on the idea of a Western series, and then he and several others, some of whom also complained that they were all least partly responsible for the creation of the character, hashed out the details of the show. The outline was then passed on to hack writer extraordinaire, Fran Striker, who is said to have crushed out 60,000 words a WEEK for for various radio shows, magazines, books, and the like. It was Striker who developed and refined the character.

The show was an immediate hit. Promotions that were advertised on the air resulted in thousands of responses. Soon WXYZ could syndicate the show to other stations, eventually creating what came to be known as the Mutual Broadcasting System, which wound up bigger than only NBC and CBS. The Lone Ranger founded a financial dynasty.

The show is still instantly recognizable, as the closing strains of Rossini’s (public domain) overture to his 1829 opera William Tell rang out, ever to be identified as the Lone Ranger’s theme. (It can only be speculated what Rossini might have thought of this.) After the stirring opening narration, each self-contained episode would begin.

There was trouble at the bank, or with ranchers vs. farmers, or bandits, rustlers, crooked sheriffs, and on and on. The conflict was quickly established, as the good and bad characters interacted for the first half of the episode, setting up a confrontation. Then the Lone Ranger would swoop in (frequently Tonto clued him in to what was going on), and through words of wisdom and, if necessary, gunplay, he would put the situation to right.

“The Osage Bank Robbery” is a typical Ranger story. Two grizzled, kindly old prospectors have run out of money and face starvation. Two bandits, merciless killers, hide after a robbery in the abandoned mine the two prospectors had worked. The Ranger brings the prospectors out to the mine under the impression that there was more silver to be mined from it. There they set off a charge that closes the mouth of the mine, leaving the bandits helpless inside. The Ranger lets the prospectors capture them and get the reward, saving their bacon, so to speak. And, of course, before he can be thanked, it’s “Hi-yo, Silver! Awaaay!” And off he and Tonto go.

Director James Jewell had been with the project since the beginning, having already created a repertory acting company for the station, and blessed with a talented and resourceful sound effects department. Upwards of a dozen actors could be called on for a single episode. The Ranger was played primarily by Earle Graser until his tragic death in 1941 – after that, Brace Beemer filled the role. John Todd played Tonto the whole way. Taken all together, this small mob of collaborators created shows that still stand up to a good listening.

Of course, the show was not woke and had its problematic aspects, first of all in the character of Tonto. Although he is portrayed as intelligent and possessed of a will of his own, he speaks in monosyllables that render him frequently as though he were simple-minded. Still, the show avoided ethnic stereotypes – there were no comic Chinese, Black, or Mexican characters, a rarity for the time.

The show had a religious group of fans, and the show persisted through 1954, a 21-year run unmatched in the industry. He was the idol of children and, as they grew up, adults as well. The Ranger was impossibly perfect, but if you’re going to have a hero, why not insist on the best? At his best, the Lone Ranger affirmed that right and wrong existed, and that right can win out over wrong. Not a bad creed to live by.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: The Wisconsin Folksong Collection.

NRR Project: 'Vic and Sade' - "Decoration Day Parade' (May 28, 1937)

 

NRR Project: Vic and Sade – “Decoration Day Parade”

Written by Paul Rhymer

Broadcast May 28, 1937

The greatest show in the history of network radio was simplicity itself. Using only two to three characters, writer Paul Rhymer evoked an entire eccentric, hilarious world. 

Rhymer was an NBC copywriter with a wicked sense of humor. In 1932, he started the grueling practice of writing a 15-minute comic serial episode every Monday through Friday and getting it on the air, working steadily at it from 1932 through 1946. In the few hundred recorded episodes that survive, his level of comic genius never falters. There's not a so-so bit in the bunch.

He set his mini-sitcom in an unnamed Midwestern town, somewhere south of Chicago. There, in the “small house halfway up in the next block,” dwelt Victor Gook, his wife Sadie, and their teenage son Rush. Victor was an accountant at the Consolidated Kitchenware Company’s Plant Number Fourteen. Sade was a housewife. Together they looked over their boy and went through all the activities that you might expect small-town folks to take part in.

Though they were set in a stereotypical “average home,” the daily vignettes took the listener into a crazy reality where people were named things like Y.Y. Flirch and Rishigan Fishigan of Sishigan, Michigan. There was Fred and Ruthie Stembottom, who Vic and Sade always played cards with. There was Mr. Gumpox, the garbage man. Vic belonged to a lodge, the Drowsy Venus chapter of the Sacred Stars of the Milky Way; when Sade wanted a treat she would scoot down to the Tiny Petite Pheasant Feather Tea Shoppe. Rush would play with his friends, Blue-Tooth Johnson and Smelly Clark, whose uncle Strap worked at the Bright Kentucky Hotel, down by the railroad tracks. He followed the on-screen adventures of Four-Fisted Frank Fuddleman and read books about the indomitable Third Lieutenant Clinton Stanley.

Vic was played by Art van Harvey, an older actor whose nasal tones made him seem always a little befuddled and put out. Sade, played by Bernadine Flynn, was a typical wife and mother, speaking in a broad flat accent that perfectly catches the cadences of Midwestern speech. Billy Idleson played Rush as a curious, warm-hearted, enthusiastic young man. In 1940, added to the cast was Clarence Hartzell as Uncle Fletcher, who was loopy and dense and kept telling outrageous stories about people he slightly knew, such as a man who was a guard at the Missouri State Home for the Tall, “who later died.”

Now, here’s the key – Vic and Sade reveals all this bizarre information through the dialogue among Vic, Sade, and Rush. None of the aforementioned supporting characters ever appeared on the show; we learned about them as the three discussed them. Each installment would be a self-contained little story, on topics such as “R.J. Konk’s Improved Portrait” or “Milton’s Dirt in Fruit Jars.” Using the barest premise, Rhymer would pile absurdity on top of absurdity, making the typical small-town life seem impossibly bracing, fantastic, and mysterious.

The actors always play it straight, like regular folks, unfazed by the bizarro world around them, which makes the jokes even more hysterical. The obvious affection Rhymer has for the Gooks keeps the show from just being a torrent of absurdities. We can identify with the Gooks, who are good people just living their daily lives. It made every listener to the show feel like a warm and friendly guest (and indeed, many prominent Americans stopped everything to tune in to the show at 3 p.m.).

Rhymer is said to have written more than 3,500 Vic and Sade scripts, with no loss of vigor or inventiveness throughout the show’s 14-year run. There are only a few hundred recordings of episodes that survived. One can only imagine what an immensity of laughs are trapped in the pages of Rhymer’s archives (which, fortunately, are extensive – several collections of scripts from the show have been published).

The episode chosen by the National Recording Registry is one of the earliest ones still in existence, and it is a typical hoot. Vic is in charge of the town’s Decoration Day parade, but he has to go out of town and insists that the mayor take over his elaborate set of plans for the day’s events. “Don’t they just line up at 10 a.m. and walk to the cemetery?” asks Rush, provoking a scoff from Vic. Vic’s grand scheme is doomed to failure, and he will definitely not get the respect that he thinks he deserves.

Vic and Sade set an example of what radio could do, and where comedy could go. Its influence is subtle but pervasive. Billy Idelson went on to become a prominent TV actor, writer, director, and producer, giving us shows such as The Bob Newhart Show and Love, American Style. The quirky observational humor, and the divine absurdities evoked, still set a gold standard for American comedy.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: The Lone Ranger.

NRR Project: The destruction of the Hindenburg (May 6, 1937)

NRR Project: The destruction of the Hindenburg

Reported by Herbert Morrison

May 6, 1937

It’s one of the most iconic recordings of all time, instantly recognizable, a byword for disaster. When the zeppelin Hindenburg caught fire and fell to earth, killing 36, it was the end of an era for this peculiar method of transportation. It also demonstrated the value of radio in capturing historic events as they happened.

The zeppelin was created in Germany in the late 19^th century. It is an immense rigid airship, consisting of several bags of lighter-than-air gas trapped in an aluminum shell in cigar shape, from which depend engines, propellers, and compartments for passengers and crew. It was a prestigious and unique way to travel, and many cross-Atlantic flights took place in zeppelins during the early part of the 20^th century.

The zeppelin was designed to be filled with inert helium gas, but the United States controlled the supply, so flammable hydrogen gas was used instead. On May 6, 1937, the Hindenburg was scheduled to come to rest in Lakehurst, New Jersey. As the craft was preparing to land, it caught fire and plunged to the ground. The fire was spectacular; the ship was completely consumed in less than a minute.

In addition to the newsreel cameras, reporter Herbert Morrison was covering the landing live for radio. His famous eyewitness report gives us an indelible impression of destruction and dismay. Morrison was there to interview passengers arriving in America from the Hindenburg, and only happened to be recording to a disc when the airship exploded. His voice cracked with emotion, Morrison stuck to his microphone and gave us an indelible record of the incident.

Stations did not normally play recorded pieces; usually, all reporting was done live. However, this recording broke that tradition. Soon, recorded pieces from all over the world would begin to make their way onto the airwaves, enriching the listeners’ understanding.

After this incident, the impetus that drove the development and use of zeppelins ended abruptly. The footage was just too intense. Other zeppelins were retired. Would-be travelers had their fares refunded. From this point on, the history of aviation focused on the use and evolution of the fixed-wing airplane.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Vic and Sade.