Humour in the history of sound recording

We’re delighted to welcome back Gordon Ledbetter for our November talk. Gordon outlines below what attendees can expect.

Humour in the history of sound recording, looks at humour in its widest sense and how it has reflected society’s tastes and mores. It is not true to say Caruso in the early 1900s  made the gramophone. He certainly spread its popularity and following his phenomenal success with recording, so-called ‘serious singers’ who had disdained the invention as a scientific novelty followed him into the recording studios. But for a decade, in the 1890s, what held sway were the likes of so-called Coon Songs, sung by both blacks and whites – white Americans were not slow in capitalising on black music – that sold in large numbers on phonograph cylinders. The talk features a clip from  the very first Minstrel Show to be captured on celluloid with excellent sound synchronisation. In a white cast, two ‘burnt cork’ characters  with black wigs act the eejit as expected of white audiences of the day. Sound recordings as well as anything else point up societal prejudices and inconsistency. George Formby with window cleaning patter and double entendre was banned from the BBC (until it was pointed out that the Royal Family were staunch fans). That did not prevent the Black & White Minstrel Show becoming for a decade one of the most popular BBC productions ever. 

Who among the great historical composers  has left us witty, humorous music? Nearly all of them did. I have room for only a few: Mozart (the most impish of all – ask his wife); Offenbach: the dauntingly difficult Doll Song sung by the delightful Patricia  Janeckowa; Donizetti of course, who could resist  Doctore Dulcamara arriving in town with his quack medicine. Ambrosio Maaestri looks and sings the part to perfection.  

And I have an excerpt from the very first comic opera I ever saw as a child with a clip of the very same bass. It was an enchanting, never to be forgotten experience. The opera, would you believe, was banned twice tho’ not in Dublin. Can you guess which opera it was and where banned?  

Perhaps the singer who best personifies good humour was Gracie Fields, who I saw at her very last appearance in England. Her friend Luisa Tetrazzini wanted her to enter the world of opera and her warbling in this song fully justifies Tets view of her talents; but Variety was where Gracie’s temperament lay. Here she is singing in 1932 ‘I’m looking on the bright side.’ Heavens, do we need such heart warming sentiments today…. 

Our November talk takes place in Buswells Hotel on the 8th November at 11am. We look forward to welcoming members of the Society. Non-members are also welcome to join us.