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 du by up-and-comers Dean Maartin 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.

NRR Project: 'The Fall of the City' (1938)

 

NRR Project: ‘The Fall of the City’

Written by Archibald MacLeish

Directed by Irving Reis

Performed on the Columbia Workshop, CBS Radio

Premiered April 11, 1937

30 min.

Commercial radio, at its conception, was thought of as mere entertainment (although much “elevating” classical music was featured on the airways in early years). Comedies, soap operas, detective shows, horror – genre shows were the norm, and network ambitions did not stretch beyond their confines.

However, there were a few people in radio who could see its potentiality as an aesthetic medium – one the virtues of which could be exploited in a new and unique way, to enlist the listener in the creation of imaginary landscapes and situations that could only be conjured by sound alone.

Such a man was Irving Reis, a former engineer who came to CBS with the idea for a 30-minute sustaining (meaning network-sustained, commercial-free) program that experimented with radio’s possibilities, both technically and dramatically. In July 1936, the Columbia Workshop was born.

CBS was always the more adventurous network. NBC had been established earlier, was more popular, and had gathered all the stars of radio into its schedules. (Such was its dominance that there were two NBC networks, NBC Red and NBC Blue – Blue was sold off and became ABC in 1942.) So CBS had to try harder, to attempt risky material and push the boundaries of the medium. Anyone who listens extensively to old-time American radio will find that CBS productions were sharper, from the writing all the way down to the sound effects.

Columbia Workshop brought the medium to the threshold of artistic significance with this production, mounted live on April 11, 1937. The drama, the first in verse on the radio, was crafted by the Pulitzer-winning poet and dramatist Archibald MacLeish.

“The Fall of the City” was inspired by the rapid takeover of weaker territories by fascist governments in the 1930s, most notably by Italy and Germany. MacLeish was also thinking of the overthrow of the city of Tenochtitlan by Hernan Cortes in 1521. It’s the story of a great city that capitulates to fear, abasing itself eagerly before a conqueror who is not as he seems. (The parallels with today’s American dilemma are not lost on this writer.)

The show was special – the production called for the sound of great crowds, mingling with a score by the great Bernard Herrmann. To stage it, CBS took over the Seventh Regiment Armory in New York City, needing the reverberations its cavernous space could provide. A young Orson Welles, then rocketing to fame, took the part of the Narrator, working out of an isolation booth; a then-unknown Burgess Meredith held a key role as well. Two hundred extras, augmented by four taped crowd noises played at the same time, gave the impression of a huge, milling crowd in a sunbaked central city square.

The show almost didn’t come off. Tennis players wanted to use the space the day of the broadcast; so did the National Guard. Somehow the producers dissuaded these interlopers, and the show went off.

It’s a remarkable creation, very assured for all its being the first of its kind. The tension mounts as the Narrator describes the growing panic of the city as the conqueror approaches. A woman rises from the dead and declares “The city of masterless men/Will take a master./There will be shouting then:/Blood after!” Speakers rise up and decry the surrender of the citizens to fear, to no avail. The conqueror enters, clad in armor; the crowd falls to the ground. The conqueror raises his visor; there is nothing inside. “The people invent their oppressors,/Thet wish to believe in them./They wish to be free of their freedom/Released from their liberty/The long labor of liberty ended.”

The show was an amazing success, and proved that listeners had a hunger for more than mere entertainment. Orson Welles took note of this success, and it moved him and others to create The Mercury Theater on the Air a year later. Another young and ambitious radio writer, Norman Corwin, would take heart as well, and would soon be known as the resident bard of dramatic radio.

With the death of commercial radio in the late 1950s, the idea of producing content strictly for radio went by the by. (It continued in England, where radio drama and aesthetic innovation thrives to this day.) Still, “The Fall of the City” showed everyone what only radio could do – create, with the help of the listeners’ imaginations, fantastic and compelling new worlds.

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 crash of the Hindenburg.

NRR Project: 'Bonaparte's Retreat' (1937)

 

NRR Project: ‘Bonaparte’s Retreat’

Performed by W.H. Stepp, fiddle

Recorded 1937

Again, I must defer to essayist David S. Lynch’s fine work outlining the tune, its background, and the fascinating life of the performer who recorded it. Read it here.

“Bonaparte’s Retreat” was a titled applied to many different fiddle tunes in the early 19^th century, all of which commemorate Napoleon Bonaparte’s disastrous retreat from Russia in 1812. This tune is lively and instantly recognizable as a movement from Aaron Copland’s “Billy the Kid” Suite. The rollicking high spirits one gets from listening are infectious.

Stepp lived in eastern Kentucky, which is where folklorists Alan and Elizabeth Lomax found him in 1937. Stepp’s mastery of the instrument is amazing, as he seems to be wielding multiple fiddles at once, spinning out a rapid counterpoint. Alan Lomax called him the best fiddler he had ever heard.

The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Nest time: Archibald McLeish’s Fall of the City.

They want you stupid

 

The present administration is doing its darndest to turn America into a fascist autocracy. To this end, they are attacking many government departments, services, laws, and regulations in order to deliver the nation into the hands of Trump and his billionaire friends. To date, this effort has not been stymied by lawmakers or by the judiciary (although the judiciary is beginning to get its back up). It’s on us, the citizens, to stop it.

There is plenty to complain about. A laundry list of the executive branch’s malevolent actions would fill many pages. Part of their plan is to hit us all with as many encroachments as fast as possible, so that we’re overwhelmed. But what action do we take, and how?

The key piece I would like to address is the attack on education. The destruction of the Department of Education, the defunding of the Institute of Museum and Library Sciences, the takeover of the Kennedy Center, and the ham-handed attempt to control the curriculum of universities all add up to one thing: they want you stupid.

We are already faced with the reality that we have a long way still to go to function as an educated and informed public. 90 million people didn’t vote; 54 percent of adults can’t read above the sixth-grade level; 21 percent of Americans are illiterate. 21 percent.

And that’s how those in power like it. Stupid people obey. Stupid people don’t think their way to solutions. Stupid people live in an environment dominated by fear and anger. They fall for a dictator’s lies without the ability to use critical intelligence to peel apart and destroy those untruths.

Mitch Albom writes: “If the culture doesn’t work, don’t buy it. Create your own.” Conservatives have been working for decades to create a culture in which minorities, immigrants, the LGBTQ population, women, “unproductive” people (meaning people with disabilities, a subsection of the population that the Nazis murdered), and those who champion them don’t count. Let’s face it, if you’re not an able-bodied white straight Christian male, those in power do not have any use for you. The “official” culture they seek to impose (MMA? WWF? Square dancing?) is a recipe for regimented disaster.

So, it’s time to create a new culture. How do we do that? It begins with creating a space of self-respect, a feeling that you are a valuable and significant human and that you have something to contribute to the larger world. Then, there’s the little matter of will power. Can you make the time in your life to be a little more conscious and informed person?

This is always possible, even for us with full-time jobs and no discretionary funds to speak of. The diverse and multicultural society that America is isn’t going anywhere. It’s there, we just have to celebrate, honor, and exercise in it. The best way to do this is to KEEP LEARNING.

You can do it. Anyone who feels that they have done their due diligence in the realm of their personal education by graduating from college (another rapidly shrinking part of the populace) is mistaken. We need to STAY CURIOUS. We need to utilize our libraries to the greatest extent possible. Every book you check out, every hour you spend on the library’s internet, every class you take there increases your knowledge base, and it certifies the usefulness of the institution. Libraries are the last safe space, the place where you don’t have to buy anything to hang out there, the place where you can read and think and learn.

Every trip to a museum opens up your mind a little. Every concert, even every new type of cuisine you try, every time you try something new – music, art, film, books, plays, dance – you are increasing the I.Q. of the general populace. It doesn’t take much time or money.

I don't come from money, I come from just-barely-making-it. When I was little, I fell in love with the arts. I feasted on them growing up, and I dreamed of being a playwright, of being an actor. After an aborted college career, I decided to continue to work in the culture, to become a comedian. And I became one. (I wasn’t very good, but I do get an A for effort!) When that career ended, I decided to become a journalist. Just like that. I had no training, no certificate or diploma to legitimize my ambition. I just went for it. And I did it!

I created a position for myself where I could dig into and report on the culture extensively. I couldn’t afford to patronize opera houses, concerts, museums. Instead, to get access for free I reviewed plays, concerts, albums, and books. It worked! Soon I was writing on arts and entertainment for newspapers and magazines – while they were still in good health.

Then the bottom fell out of the journalism industry – no more work there. What to do next? I decided to write a book. And I did. Then I sold it. Then I wrote another one, and sold it. I’m working on three more books right now. I look at my efforts and I think, “Wow, how did you do that?” The learning never has to end.

I am still living life on the low end of the economic spectrum, but my days are filled with purpose and interest. You don't have to be rich to enjoy art – and in fact, a non-wealthy people’s perspective on the culture is just the kind of subversive thinking we need. By expressing yourself, you can still create new and better realities.

Keep your mind open. If I can do it, you can. YOU CAN DO IT. Try new things. Think about and discuss issues that perturb you. Culture gives us two great things needed for an ethical society to function – empathy and remorse, neither of which our opponents possess. Live and breathe the culture YOU WANT TO BRING INTO BEING, and spread it.