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.