What and How to Play for Pictures

Here is a scan of Eugene A. Ahern's What and How to Play for Pictures (1913) [5 MB PDF]. Unlike Lyle C. True's very similarly titled catalogue from the following year, Ahern's book offers practical advice in the specific task of playing to the pictures; it is in that sense a practical manual. The copy I looked at did not contain a Table of Contents, but I have compiled one below:

Preface 5
How to Play 7
Appropriate Music 10
Short Scenes 13
Continuous Playing 18
Difficult Music 22
Producers' Suggestions 28
Popular Music 32
Arrangement of Themes 39
War Dramas 43
Society Plays 45
Brighter Prospects 50
Effect Playing 53
Specimen Program 56
Don'ts 58

Here is his preface:

This Booklet was not gotten up to criticize anyone's way of playing pictures, nor to teach you how to play the piano; but What and How to Play for Pictures is the object aimed at. The book also contains a little advice to beginners in this line of business.

The Booklet embodies my ideas of the business of playing the pictures. I do not claim to be infallible, but experience has shown me the wisdom of the views set forth. In the hope of assisting others in this particular occupation I offer the result of my own observations and study.

Eugene Ahern.

Brass Band Accompaniment

Even when scores were composed for a particular film, the practice of accompaniment rarely demanded that it be used. The accompaniment was very much dependent on the venue where the film was screened. When in April 1913 the New York Exhibitor's League put on a benefit show for flood victims at the 60th Regiment Armory, they selected the New York Letter Carriers' Band to provide accompaniment for the five (!) hour show, which attracted more than 5,000 people. As the excerpt below suggests, the band's approach to playing the pictures was enthusiastically embraced.

[…]

Imagine that second reel of "War," by the "101" Bison Company, when accompanied by a brass band of fifty pieces. Try to imagine one of the most thrilling battle scenes ever produced being presented with the sound of ten trombones coming up the scale chromatically, with an equal number each of clarinets, cornets, altos and bassos working strong on the "hurry" stuff in counter melody, and you will get an idea of the right way to put that picture on. Of all the punches and thrills of the evening, that was the knock-out.

* * *
And, speaking of bands, a blind man would have enjoyed himself that evening for no other reason than listening to the New York Letter Carriers' Band, one of the best trade bands in America. When it comes to playing for pictures, their leader seems know just what to select.

Source: “New York League Benefit a Big Success,” Moving Picture World 26 April 1913, 369.

Special Music Ads

The Moving Picture World issue of the week of 22 March 1913 again featured a number of ads mentioning special music for films. The Prisoner of Zenda and Hiawatha continued with prominent ads, though music is mentioned less prominently in each (and Breil's name still misspelled in the Zenda ad). A Vitagraph ad claimed that its special features would all also have specially prepared music.

A Tidbit on Vaudeville Music

This item on vaudeville music for "silent artists" (also known in the vaudeville business as "dumb acts") comes from the end of a 1910 New York Times' article that ponders certain peculiarities of the vaudeville aesthetic, in particular the frequent, unmotivated changes of clothing by female headliners. Like cinema musicians, vaudeville musicians, at least according to this report, accompanied silent acts in a subdued fashion.

The music accompanying the silent artist, the juggler, the wrestler and the acrobat, is one of the artistic features of vaudeville. Just as the black background best brings out the living white models of statuary, so the modesty of the orchestra or piano player caters to sound only to the degree of a slightly audible background. This detracts not a particle from the performance but throws it more in evidence where absolute quiet would cause the most marvelous feats to become tiresome after a while.

Source: “Some Reasons for Vaudeville,” NY Times 30 January 1910, SM6.

Playing the General Mood and Song Accompaniment

This week, Clarence Sinn gives his column over to two letters from readers. The first discusses the practice of accompanying films with an orchestra and the writer recommends playing for the general mood rather than the details. He also notes that one reel of the feature—Satan—was omitted at his theater due to time—a common occurrence throughout the silent era.

The second letter responds to Kenneth Aiken's article. The writer makes a case for using popular songs to play films with contemporary settings.

Mr. M. E. Schwarzwald, Bijou Dream, Chicago, sends the following: "As I promised you I am sending my program to the picture 'Satan.' Am sorry to say that owing to the length of this we were obliged to omit the second reel ('Satan in the Life of Christ'), but am told that it requires practically all sacred music. I wish to state that there parts of this picture I have not followed in detail—for example, the beginning of Part Three. I have made it a point rather, to get the longest selections I could which would keep to the general theme of the picture. I believe that I can make my music just as effective in this way as by always following the picture scene by scene, and therefore try to make as few changes as possible in order to keep from diverting attention from the picture. I think if one changes the music too often he is not playing enough of any one number to convey the theme of it to the audience, and by this appropriates a large part of their attention which should be given to the picture.

"From remarks overheard I gather that the orchestra most appreciated is the one that can bring out and accent the characteristic points of the picture without diverting the attention of the audience, rather than the one that constantly attracts attention by its noisy blare, quick changes of music and stopping too suddenly at times instead of trying to ‘weave’ their numbers gradually. Another thing I do not believe in, is that incessant grind heard in some theaters. I visited a house recently which has a three-piece orchestra and runs five vaudeville acts and two reels of pictures. The musicians instead of following the picture with appropriate music played a program of popular stuff. I noticed that the leader (pianist) never stopped from the time the picture started until it stopped—turning the music with one hand and playing the other. Being acquainted with the manager I mentioned this. 'Why,' said he, 'those are my orders; what is wrong. I want that music going all the time.'

"Very good, Mr. Manager, but one of a party sitting behind me from whose conversation I judged to be a regular patron, said: 'Good Lord! Won’t they ever quit. This is worse than having to listen to one of those piano machines.'

"Our manager gives us ten minutes' rest at the opening of each show and we find that with this small lay-off we can do more justice to our music than these 'on forever' orchestras, and no complaints from our patrons. What do you think of this?"

I shall offer no comments beyond stating that the Bijou Dream, like all downtown houses in this city (and most other large places), runs a continuous show from nine o’clock a. m. until eleven p.m. Regarding the long selections played, Mr. S. "humors" them more or less to fit the scenes, and in this way he often plays to details without chaging numbers.—[Ed.]

"Satan, or the Drama of Humanity" (Amrosio)Part One.

1. “Damnation of Faust” (can use storm scene from “William Tell”) until title: “The First Sin.”
2. “Devil’s Call Galop” once, then:
3. “Ghost Dance” (pub. by Will Rossiter) until end of reel.

Part Two.(Sacred Music throughout.)
Part Three.

1. Overture, "King Mydas" (Jacobs) once through.
2. “Faust” Overture (Cundy-Bettany Co.—Carl Fischer’s Selection fits better, but is more difficult for small combinations) until monk falls asleep at table.
3. Mysterious music; until monk and Satan leave monastery.
4. Sumurun Intermezzo (pub. by Stern) until monk is shown behind curtain.
5. Mysterious (37 Orpheum Collection) until Satan puts dagger in his hand.
6. Agitato (43 Orpheum Collection) until man is stabbed.
7. Semi-mysterious (51 Orpheum Coll.) until fight.
8. Hutty (19 Orph. Coll.) until change.
9. Mysterious-heavy (20 Orph. Coll.) until end of reel.

Part Four.

1. Bright lively novelette until iron merchant falls asleep.
2. Mysterious until devil appears in full dress.
3. Waltz, “Druids Prayer” (Stern), until title: “Later Engrossed With Mary’s Love, etc.”
4. “Perfume” (from suite “My Lady’s Boudoir,” Witmark), until end of scene.
5. Waltz, “The Devil” (pub. By Emil Ascher), until end.
(Last part of Part Four.)
6. Waltz, “The Devil, until Frank shoots at carriage.
7. Agitato (soft) until police auto enter and shots fired.
8. Hurry until chase.
9. Presto until Frank and Satan arrive at ruined castle.
10. Agitato (soft) until title: “You Can Get Revenge, etc.”
11. Plaintive until Mary arrives at the castle.
12. Agitato (33 Bendix-Fischer melodramatic music), p. and f. until title: “Mary Has Lied to You! Destroy.”
13. Prison Scene from “Faust” (Leo Feist-Reckers arrangement) until close.

Thomas Bruce, of the Majestic Theater, North Yakima Wash, whose letterhead reads, “Musical Interpreter of Pictures, Pipe Organ and Piano,” writes: “In the February 1st issue of Moving Picture World, under the heading, ‘Thoughts for Pianists,’ in your department, Mr. Aiken says: 'Picture playing does not consist as some suppose of merely fitting song titles to the scenes.' I fully agree with him, for to play a modern song to some pictures would be out of place and inartistic, on the other hand, it would be worse to play Grieg’s ‘Ich Liebe Dich’ to some light modern drama when ‘I’d Love to Live in Loveland’ would be more suitable.

“Then, of course, there are pictures when no songs can be used. One I have in mind is ‘At Napoleon’s Command’ (Cines), which I improvised through entirely with the exception of ‘Marseilles.’ To have played ‘Just Before the Battle, Mother’ at the title, ‘The Even Before the Battle,’ would have been comedy. The summary of all this is that the picture player must have ingenuity and artistic judgment and an unlimited repertoire. I am sending a program to illustrate my point, and criticism from the editor or any one who has seen the picture, ‘When Love Leads,’ will be greatly appreciated, as I wish to know what other musicians think about the very important subject of popular music for modern pictures.”

“When Love Leads” (Lubin).

1. “Stein Song” from “Prince of Pilsen” (Witmark, pub.), or, better still, Alma Mater song from nearest college, until title: “David Meets Josephine..”
2. “Beautiful Lady” valse (Remick, pub.) until title: “One Month later.”
3. “Cuddle Up a Little Closer” (from “Three Twins”).
4. Agitato while Josephine reads letter and through scene between David and father.
5. Pathetic for scene between David and mother.
6. “Goodbye Sweetheart, Goodbye until title: “David in City.”
7. “Give My Regards to Broadway” (from “Little Johnny Jones”) until title: “Married.”
8. “Honeymoon” (from “Time, Place and Girl”—pub. by Harris).
9. Agitato for scene between father and mother.
10. “Gee, But This is a Lonesome Town.”
11. Agitato and pathetic through five scenes until title: “David Loses Reason.”
12. Tosti’s “Goodbye” until title: “Scrubwoman Finds Child.”
13. “If I Only Had a Home, Sweet Home” until title: “David Regains Reason.”
14. Pathetic until David enters home, then:
15. Grandioso waltz until end.

[986]

["]The first number should be played more as an introduction to the picture to give a college atmosphere, and if “Prince of Pilsen Stein Song” is used should be timed so that “Oh! Heidelberg, Dear Heidelberg” comes for first scene.["]

I do not remember accurately the details of the picture above mentioned, but Brother Bruce has furnished us an excellent illustration of the method of applying songs, whose suggestiveness lies largely in the fitness of their titles, to certain pictures. Discriminating performers would not need the reminder that modern songs should be used only in modern pictures, but I am sorry to say there are many who are not so thoughtful as our correspondent. Come again, Mister Bruce—you are always welcome.—Ed.

Clarence E. Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 8 March 1913, 985-86.

Thoughts for the Pianist

This article is part of the trend calling for less popular music and more classical music, especially for dramas. Especially noteworthy is this passage:

Picture playing does not consist, as some suppose, in fitting song titles to the action of the picture.... Proper accompaniments for pictures are those which reflect their peculiar atmosphere, their tone of sadness or joy or their dramatic movement. Anything short of this is just quack.

Here, the author argues explicitly against song-title approach accompaniment, which though it had been under attack for years evidently remained a prevalent practice. Instead the author advocated playing for the general mood, which is the approach that would be adopted by most orchestras.

Thoughts for the Pianist

The pianist who aspires to be an artist at accompanying pictures will surround each picture with a musical atmosphere of its own. He will think of the general trend of the story, its manner of starting off and ending and its climax. He will notice who the leading actors are in the cast, for by this he may judge somewhat of the intensity of the performance. If the picture is serious drama and is done by the best stars he may need one or two of what might be called his reserve pieces, pieces of considerable difficulty carrying the utmost emotional appeal.

What are some of the pieces? One of the strongest pieces emotionally that I know of is [Franz] Liszt’s third Liebestraum. The first two pages are quiet and serene with an extremely simple melody, yet though simple it has a depth and strength such as can be found only in great music. For those of slight technical ability these first two pages alone should be invaluable. A cadenza follows and then the same strain is taken in the key of B, after which it modulates in E, where the whole piano seems to be brought into action. The finale is soft and tender.

It would be folly to bring out a piece of this description for the ordinary run of pictures. There are sometimes pictures, however, which in character of plot and production show the artistic finish of a poem. Such a one was “The Painted Lady.” Miss Sweet’s acting in the role of the mad girl deserved a musician’s best efforts. How to respond to her loneliness, her first glimmerings of love, her despair at finding she had shot her lover, and her sweet but insane sorrow! Nothing like rag time now, nothing that is the “latest out”; the music must mirror deep emotion. For this we have [Giacomo] Puccini’s “Madame Butterfly” and his “La Boheme,” the Liebesträume (three of the them), by Liszt, also his Consolation and such well-known songs as [Guy] D’Hardelot’s “Because,” [James Carroll] Bartlett’s “A Dream,” [John W.] Metcalf’s “Absent,” Roger’s [James Hotchkiss Rogers] “At Parting,” [Edvard] Grieg’s “Ich Liebe Dich” and [Ethelbert] Nevin’s “Rosary.” These last should be paraphrased to get the best piano effects.

The great need to-day is far more seriousness on the musical side. The picture companies do not hesitate—heavy dramatic subjects are coming out all the time and the public does not weary of them either, only the whole thing lacks artistic success because of crude music. Wrong ideas have contributed to bring about the present condition. Picture playing does not consist, as some suppose, in fitting song titles to the action of the picture. This is not exactly a bad thing in itself, but it amounts to no more in picture playing than tooting the whistle does in running an engine. Proper accompaniments for pictures are those which reflect their peculiar atmosphere, their tone of sadness or joy or their dramatic movement. Anything short of this is just quack.

All is impossible, however, without the proper music, so the buying of music becomes a very important matter. The pianist should select his music with special purposes in view. He will pick out “The Dance of the Hours” (Gioconda [by Amilcare Ponchielli]) for light gay action in say a society drama; “Valse Triste” ([Jean] Sibelius) will serve for dark, sombre effects; “Heart’s Ease” (MacBeth) for any romance; “Pomp and Circumstance March” ([Edward] Elgar) for those splendid pageants in Pathe Weekly; “Nita Gitana” ([Reginald] De Koven) for Mexican love scenes; “Gondoliera” ([Moritz] Moskowski) for boat scenes; “Autumn” ([Cécile] Chaminade) for any simple sadness; “Summer” (Chaminade) for freshness and life.

Recently the Russian Symphony Orchestra did this entire industry an honor by accompanying the Pilgrim’s Progress pictures with a special program prepared by the conductor. Some day, perhaps, one of our great pianists will favor us in a similar manner. In the meantime every exhibitor can help things along by keeping the piano well-tuned. Those who have really seen the light will shelf the old upright and put in a modern grand.

Kenneth Aiken, “Thoughts for the Pianist,” Moving Picture World 1 February 1913, 470.

Female Pianists in the Nickelodeon

This is an interesting short item from an early issue of Moving Picture World suggesting that nickelodeons had begun to hire female pianists of a higher social class. The author claims that these pianists generally played a higher class of music and that their social status required that they not draw attention to themselves—indeed that they tried to remain as anonymous as possible so as not to jeopardize their social standing. It is worth pointing out that the "invisibility" imagined here would become the general model for film musicians in the silent era.

The nickelodeon shows have furnished occupation for young women, many of them girls, who, after they have practiced the piano for years, found they could not earn a living as well as the girl who had learned nothing but to wash dishes. There must be two score of the moving picture shows in Pittsburgh, not to speak of those in Allegheny and McKeesport, and every one of them has a piano player.

The piano players at the nickelodeons of a year or so ago furnished excruciating music, for they were usually girls who played at street carnivals and the attractions in the private parks. As the shows became known and people of taste learned that frequently very interesting scenes were represented, the managers sought for girls of another social class, with the result that the quality of music has improved and the higher class selections indicated as appropriate by the manufacturers of the more artistic films are played with taste and precision in many of the shows. With the coming of these girls facilities for withdrawal from the public eye had to be provided. Even now one sees, at a few shows, the girl piano player boldly face the incoming audience, with the lights turned up; flirting with the ushers and altogether comporting themselves with the same freedom as a member of a peripatetic German band; but at other places, as soon as the film has passed through the machine and a new audience is coming in, the piano player slips under [181] the stage and is not visible until the lights are turned down and the film starts again. It is said that some of the girls have a very good social standing, and that their friends do not dream that they are earning an honest living by playing the piano in a public place.

Source: “Trade Notes,” Moving Picture World 25 May 1907, 180-81.

General Issues in Accompanying

This week's column by Sinn is fairly amorphous. He begins recapitulating his general classification of genres and gives some more detailed suggestions for playing scenics and Shakespearean tragedies. Sinn then answers some general queries from his readers. In this column, he also offers his column as a forum for discussing problems of accompanying moving pictures: "I should like to make this page a sort of meeting place where we can all get together and exchange views for our mutual benefit."

"A. J. O." writes a long and complimentary letter in the course of which he voices a wish in which we all share. He says, "I want to know how to work up pictures correctly and the proper music to play for them." His question is natural—we all want to know the same thing. As I said in the beginning, I shall try to give helpful hints on this subject, but from the very nature of the thing, these hints can only be along general lines. An unreleased picture is an unknown quantity and we don't know what music to play for it until we have seen it, but when we do see it we should be able to classify it at once. My third article contained a classification which, though by no means complete, is sufficient to meet the ordinary run of pictures. A purely scenic picture is easily recognized, and though these are not easily "worked up" in detail as you would a melodrama, still they often provide opportunities for musical coloring. For East Indian or Hindu scenes "The Star of India" (Bratton) is a good number. It is also effective in African and jungle pictures generally. Herbert's "Oriental Dance" is another useful number. For Chinese pictures "The First Born," "Highlanders' Patrol" and "Chinese Serenade" are good. Medleys and patriotic songs of Europe are so well known as to need no mention here. When you have fitted a scenic picture with music suggestive of its own locality, and introduced all required sound effects, you have done all there is to do. If you don’t happen to have on hand the required piece of music, get as near to it in character as you can. Even if your picture is laid in Tangiers or Turkey, you could use one of the above in a pinch; it will at least sound characteristic and provide a novelty number for your program. (You know the concert idea of the program is not to be ignored.) If you have nothing characteristic of the countries shown or nothing that by a stretch of the imagination might be suggestive, play any concert number you like; but I earnestly advise you to provide yourself with something of this class as soon as possible. Oriental music and songs of other nations are in constant demand and your library surely should contain these. Industrial pictures seldom call for any special music, I've said that before, but it naturally falls in place here. Scientific pictures likewise. These give opportunity for selections or anything you wish which will round out your concert program. Now let us consider these three classes of pictures disposed of for all time (there is really nothing to suggest further as to their musical settings) and consider the others.

First on the list we find “Tragedy—Shakespearean order.” These abound in court scenes, royal and titled personages, combats, light comedy, and sentiment. A grand march (4-4 time) or a polonaise is ponderous and dignified and fits very well when the characters are gathering for a serious scene—a coronation for example, or a council or departure for battle. For the lighter scenes a gavotte or minuet is useful. “La Cinquantine” can sometimes be used as a fill-in. Any ordinary andante (except modern songs) will be appropriate for the pathetic and sentimental scenes. Battles and other combats of course call for “Hurrys.” If A. J. O.” will send me specific questions (in care of this department) I will be glad to answer them if I can, and if not, they can be passed over to our readers for suggestions. I should like to make this page a sort of meeting place where we can all get together and exchange views for our mutual benefit. So come on with your communications; make them brief and to the point, and if they require a personal answer don’t forget to enclose a stamp. I get a good many of that kind, and it makes an inroad into my postage stamps.

The common inquiry is for titles and descriptive numbers. Occasionally I can slip in a few names on this page, but a list of any length would completely fill it, and while it might all be for the good of the picture, it would not be practical to devote ourselves entirely to the advertising of music publishers’ wares. Such letters will receive personal answers if a stamp is enclosed.

“James T.” asks: “What should I play for acrobatic scenes such as Pathe gives us?” If you mean pictures of acrobats, [play] just the same as you would for a troupe of real performers doing a vaudeville turn. Give them a long chord or a flourish on each appearance and play a galop or lively march for the act.

"Jessie O. S., Chicago, Ill." inquires as to what should be played when the picture stops and a letter is shown on the screen. A letter, newspaper article, or any document or writing or printing which a character is reading or writing, is a part of the scene in which it is shown and whatever you may be playing at the time it is shown should be kept up until the action of the scene warrants a change or stop.

A few suggestions are appended for music to the following pictures "Elder Alden's Indian Ward.”

Lively till Indian enters;
Indian music till change of scene;
Heavy mysterious (bass solo) till change;
Repeat same number till change;
Indian War Dance (Belstedt's) till sub-title Thanksgiving Day;
At next change of scene, mysterious (pizzicato effect) till change of scene;
When Indian looks in window "heavy mysterious" (same as third number) till attack;
"Hurry" till death of Chief Squantum;
Soft Indian music till finish.

"The Golden Supper":

Gavotte till "After the Wedding,'' then
Anitra's Dance (by Grieg) till "Later," then
Massinet's Elegy till funeral procession, then
Chopin's Funeral March till Camilla moves hand;
Rubenstein's Melodie in F till "The Golden Supper."
Scarf Dance (short) till Camilla enters;
Short pause.
When Lionel sees Camilla, '"Oh Tender Moon" (from Faust) till end of picture.

Clarence Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 24 December 1910, 1465.

Piano, Improvisation, and the Orchestra

Sinn bases this column on a letter from a correspondent. He takes issue with the writer's contention that piano and drums is a preferable combination to the orchestra for picture work. In typical fashion, Sinn suggests that each combination has its particular advantages and disadvantages, and it is up to the manager (and musicians) to figure out what works best for the house in question (given the resources, audience, etc.).

Sinn ends the column with a list of musical suggestions for "The Lad from Ireland" (Kalem). This sort of cue sheet will become a recurring feature in the music columns over the years; indeed, many weeks the music column will consist of nothing but lists of such musical suggestions.

Manager Ernest Buchwald, Ballinger, Tex., writes : "Dear Sir—Your article, Music for the Pictures, in the Moving Picture World is very interesting and of great value to piano players as well as to managers and I wish to congratulate you on same and hope you will keep up the good work. For the past seven years I have made a special study of playing for moving pictures, and my experience is this: it is nearly impossible to use an orchestra for moving pictures, as I experimented in my own house, and the nearest and best results was with piano and traps. . . . Whenever it comes to the point where managers realize the value and necessity of good music, it will mean more money to all parties interested—musicians, managers and manufacturers. I have more than tripled the receipts of a moving picture theater with big opposition, one house playing vaudeville for the same price of admission, the other being an airdome with the best location in the town. How was it done? Just simply showing good pictures and playing the proper music for them."

Thanks, Brother Buchwald, for your kindly appreciation of my humble efforts. I have quoted your letter at some length because it backs up by actual experience what the World has always advocated, viz.: that good and appropriate music for the picture is of financial value to the house employing it. Why not? It means a better show, and, other things being equal, the best show gets the money. As to the relative value between the orchestra and piano, that is a matter of opinion. Yours is based on your own experience and you are certainly entitled to it; but my experience (in both lines) compels me to believe otherwise. I had intended taking up this matter of orchestra work in a later article, and shall probably do so anyway, but a few words now won't come amiss.

In the first place, there are more ways than one of fitting music to the picture. I presume you refer to "impromptu" playing, improvising—"making it up as you go along." It's a good method, too, providing you have a good pianist with a talent in that direction, but many of us are not so endowed. I have nothing but praise for the genius who can at sight improvise music to fit the picture, to an extent he (or she) is a composer, and I agree that it would be difficult (though not impossible) for an orchestra to work along these lines. Now, so far as I have observed, the impromptu pianist starts his picture with something non-commital—a waltz, possibly—and watches the picture until there is "something doing;" then he changes his music to suit the action—abruptly, if necessary. This is correct, of course. When the action changes, he changes with it; when the action subsides and the story runs quietly, the pianist drops back to his waltz or whatever it was, or plays something else of a similar neutral character, until the action again calls for a change. Correct again. That's all there is to the proper working up of a picture so far as the music goes. (The sound effects supply the balance.)

As an illustration, let us suppose his first change of music is to a pathetic number, and on the spur of the moment he improvises a beautiful theme. Well and good; I've often heard it done. But the best of impromptu players may repeat themselves occasionally. Why not? If the number is attractive and he happens to remember it, why shouldn't he apply it to a similar scene next week or next month? And if he shouldn't happen to feel in the humor to improvise a fitting number on the spur of the moment, but happened to think of a little theme that somebody else wrote, why not play it if appropriate? If a storm scene is shown he can improvise if he wants to, or he can play the storm from "William Tell," if he knows it. That is pretty good descriptive "storm music" and there are other numbers which will also answer the purpose—often better than you can improvise on the spur of the moment. Do you see what I am getting at? The best of improvisors may call occasionally on other works than their own, and the more credit to them for doing it. No good moving-picture pianist will despise a good library whether he carries it in his memory or keeps it on a convenient shelf. And if he doesn't improvise at all, he can depend altogether on such a library, and do good work, too. I have heard it done. The difference lies here: if he hasn't a sufficient story in his memory he must reinforce it from the shelf at the first opportunity—and that should be at the end of the first show. I know there are a few managers who insist on the piano being heard incessantly, through the intermission as well as through the pictures, but this is thoughtlessness on their part sometimes. Those who look on the music as a "ballyhoo" don't care to have their pictures worked up, anyway. Music in the intermission doesn't interest the average audience particularly, and some consideration should be given the tired fingers and brain, of the musician if he is to do good work. Pardon the digression. We will say that during the first show the pianist has decided on the most appropriate music in his stock for the subjects to hand—of course he must know his library, but a little practice cultivates a good memory—and selects the proper numbers during the intermission. He must keep it in such systematic order as to be able to find it readily. After that it is mostly a matter of turning over the leaves. I grant you he will not read difficult music at sight and keep both eyes on the pictures, but even with a passing knowledge of his music he can give sufficient attention to both and he don't need to repeat himself oftener than the average impromptu worker—and I say this with all due respect to the latter. Now you see what I am driving at.

There are more ways than one of fitting a picture musically and I have mentioned two. The latter is a practical way for an orchestra to work. Each has its advantages. Each has something which the other has not. The impromptu pianist progresses from one theme to another by means of modulating chords and connecting phrases, thus forming a pleasing continuity which is difficult for an orchestra to simulate, though again I assert this is not altogether impossible. On the other hand, the orchestra has the advantage of instrumental coloring which is so valuable in descriptive music and sound effects.

But after all, your final results depend entirely upon the musician. He must take a lively interest in the work (which is fascinating once you get an insight of it) and try, try, try. And this, as you know, applies to the piano player as well as the orchestra leader.

Another thing: Not all pictures call for a musical setting of constantly changing themes; this applies mostly to dramatic pictures, and often of these one or two long numbers will suffice through the entire picture, maybe broken with a melodramatic number or two. Here standard music is certainly as satisfactory as the most gifted improvisation, and the orchestra can interpret that as well as the pianist. Scenic pictures demand music suggesting the countries represented—plenty of that on the market. Many industrial as well as other pictures do not admit of special treatment and are usually filled by a concert number of some sort—all the way from a "rag" to an overture. A varied musical program helps the show when it does not detract from it, and I believe interesting musical numbers should be included where they do not hurt the picture. In this, again, a good orchestra is more satisfactory than a good pianist.

I append a suggestion for working up a recent release, "The Lad from Ireland" (Kalem). It includes all standard stuff which can be handled equally well by either orchestra or piano.

"Killarney" till he meets sweetheart, then—
"Believe Me if All Those Endearing Young Charms" till subtitle ("Out of my heart forever") then—
"Come Back to Erin" till arrives in America, then— "Girl I Left Behind Me" till election scene, then— Lively music, soft, increase to loud till change, then—
"Kathleen" till change, then—
Waltz till he shows letter, then—
"Come Back to Erin" till train is seen, then—
"Killarney" till interior of cottage (eviction scene), then—
"Believe Me if All, etc." till he enters cottage, then—
"The Harp that Once Through Tara's Hall" softly, swell at finish.
(Or can play "Believe Me if All, etc." until flag' staff ap¬pears, then "Wearing of the Green" for finish.)

At another time I want to go into this matter in more detail.

Source: Clarence E. Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 17 December, 1405.

Working-Up a Picture

In this column, Sinn outlines a method for "working-up" a picture. This method involves identifying "the predominant theme of a picture and work to that." The idea is to make distinctions between what aspects of the film are essential to the articulation of this theme and those that are merely incidental to it. Music, Sinn argues, should focus attention on what is essential, allowing the merely incidental to fade into the background. More and more, the filmmakers will follow the same strategy with the image, shooting, framing, blocking and editing their subjects so foreground and background levels are always clearly distinguished and that these levels represent (and reproduce) a narrative hierarchy. (Continuity editing is one means film makers develop at this time to articulate the narrative hierarchy that carries the theme.)

Toward the end of the article, Sinn comments on parallel editing, which was a problem for the musicians precisely because the hierarchy was not obvious in the image but had to be extracted from the larger narrative. Parallel editing thus required musicians to subordinate the lines in parallel editing to some larger idea (usually, but not always, meaning that the action in one line was subordinated to that in another).

A dozen different pictures may represent a dozen different methods of working up. One may have a theme or motif which is constantly recurring throughout the picture, while in the next the musical numbers follow consecutively like a string of beads; any of the sensational melodramas work out in this manner—a march, a "hurry" and a plaintive; a waltz, a plaintive and a "hurry" make up the greater part of these. There is a reason, but we will take that up later. Pathe's "Isis" is well described by a single number (like Lorraine's "Salome") running straight through and interrupted only by the dance (for which use "Zallah," by the same composer). A stop may also be made for the harp solos if this effect is imitated.

Some pictures (like "Mr. Four-Flush") may have one "fill-in" running through while each description is of a different character; again, others may require a single descriptive theme while the "fill-ins" vary. In fact, nearly every picture which displays originality is apt to present a new problem which makes it difficult if not impossible, to formulate a set of rules governing all cases. As I said before, one must fix on the predominant theme of a picture and work to that. This theme always centers in the principal characters of the play. For example, suppose we have a love story laid in the time of the American Revolution and the principal character is a girl; the story is all woven around her—the things she does and the things that are done for her and because of her, form the plot of the play. Whenever she appears she is the center of attraction to the audience (and must also be so to you), and in these scenes the other characters are valuable only to the degree in which they affect her. Of course, when he is out of the picture, any character or incident holding the attention at the time is the dominant part. A General enters with a staff of officers. (Martial music.) An Indian messenger comes on, or a few Indians gather in the background. This does not necessarily mean Indian music unless they are to take an important part in the action. Otherwise they are simply accessories—pieces of stage furniture—and the General is the focal point of attention. In other words, you should not withdraw the observers' attention from the important parts of the story or direct it to the unimportant parts. But whenever an element enters which has a bearing on the story, cater to that if you can. Sound effects are often given which are directly opposite in character to the descriptive music, and yet enhance the value of the picture. The heroine is in the foreground weeping—the passing army in the background. Pathetic music for her, soft drum taps for the marching soldiers. A single soldier passing would not be of sufficient importance to direct the attention to him. A minor character be he soldier, Chinaman, Indian, or anything else is ignored unless he has a direct bearing on the scene.

Permit me to digress a moment to speak of Indian music. The question has been raised as to whether an Indian “tom-tom” should accompany all Indian music. I believe it should in most case, but always softly unless otherwise called for. The instruments in a picture-show orchestra are used for two-fold purposes, viz.,: to provide music and furnish sound effects. When he is imitating some instrument of a like nature, the player is producing a sound effect, and his instrument should then be made accordingly conspicuous, but only then the Indian music is descriptive and the “tom-tom” adds greatly to its suggestive character, but discretion must be shown in this as in all other things. It might be left out of a love scene (Indian). In the case of the “sleeping Indian village,” referred to in a previous issue it seems to me that if such a scene suggested perfect quiet, the “tom-tom” would be entirely out of keeping. Query: Was Indian music really essential to the scene? In a recent release, “His Sergeant’s Stripes,” Indians play an important part, yet the dominant note in the picture is the soldier’s devotion to duty and centers about the dispatches he carries. Instead of accentuating the Indians’ presence with Indian music, work up the motive with something of a mysterious and threatening character. To exemplify further the difference between “sound effect” and descriptive music: Suppose the orchestra (or piano) is playing pathetic or other music incidental to the scene—this is descriptive and merely accessory to the picture. A character enters the picture, seats himself at a piano and runs his fingers over the keys, the pianist in the orchestra imitating him. This is a “sound effect” and is a part of the picture. The difference, between the “accessory” and the “sound effect” can be made apparent enough if the musician uses judgment. The same thing applies to other instruments in the orchestra if there be others. And here let me digress again to say that I hope the time will soon be here when it will be the rule rather than the exception for moving picture orchestras to be composed of enough instruments to describe ordinary pictures. Imagine the “Swan Song” or “The Violin Maker of Cremona” without the violin sound effects. Nearly every battle scene (and they are common enough) needs trumpet calls. W. E. King's orchestra (Orpheum Theater, Chicago) not only has a sufficient number for ordinary effects, but the management has provided a mandolin attachment for the piano, permitting of imitations of mandolin, harp, guitar, etc., and a reed organ which is useful not only for organ effects, but gives us also the hand-organ, accordion, mouth-organ and bagpipes, besides being frequently used in pathetic and religious scenes as accessory music when no instrument appears in the picture. But to return to the subject in hand.

Some pictures are shown in which the scenes alternate so rapidly as to make it impractical to change music with every change of scene. For example: A mother watching her dying child in one and the desperate father about to commit a burglary in the other. Ordinarily, the first scene suggests a plaintive and the second a pizzicato or mysterious, but here there is time to play but a few bars of each, not enough to develop the scene, and the effect of such skipping about would be absurd. Here comes the “principal motive” again. The father is turning burglar for the sake of the child. The child dominates both scenes. Therefore your pathetic runs straight through until a scene occurs which is long enough to permit a change of music if such be necessary. Again: We have a ballroom filled with dancers; you are playing a waltz. The heroine comes down to center or one side, her attitude suggestive of grief. A pathetic might seem logical at first glance. She is the dominant figure, the dancers merely accessory; but in this case they are equally prominent. She is in the ballroom, she hears the music and sees the dancers. Keep your waltz up, but subdue it, for it must partake of the nature of a “sound effect” as well as a descriptive. In this case a soft, slow waltz will answer for both. Should the dancers stop or retire, leaving her the stage center, a change in the music is permissible. Should your scene be outside of the ballroom yet in hearing of the music, your dance music is played softly—as a “sound effect”—until the scene grows sufficient in intensity to obliterate the ballroom from the mind's of the audience. Then work up to the scene.

Understand these are only hints and must not be understood to be ironclad rules. I am using these illustrations to induce you to look for the core of the picture and not the surface alone.

Source: Clarence Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” MPW 10 December 1910, 1345.

Give-Aways, Racing the Picture and Indian Pictures

Though Clyde Martin's previous column had promised a discussion of accompanying "Indian pictures," this column in fact devotes little space to it; indeed the preview of this week's column at the end of the previous one in many respects contains a more thorough discussion. Instead, Martin's column this week begins with a rambling diatribe against exhibitors using voting contests, giving away cheap souvenirs and holding amateur nights to attract crowds. He then warns against the practice of "racing the pictures" in order to get an additional show or two in when crowds are waiting. He has short paragraphs advocating for a varied program and drawing attention to new books of music that have been recently released aimed specifically at the needs of playing the pictures. Only then does he finally turn briefly to a method of accompanying "Indian pictures."

In this stage of the game, you can scarcely pick up a trade paper that you do not see some suggestion or tip from an exhibitor giving his means of pulling off novelty stunts and drawing business to his picture house. If you talk to different exhibitors over the country it is the same thing, they are always ready to tell you how they “packed them in” during their voting contest or amateur nights, or, they may give you the address of some junk wholesale house where you can buy “handsome” souvenirs for half a cent apiece, and how much money they took in while they were giving away the souvenirs. The main idea with the average exhibitor is get them in the theatre, if they come once, you have ten cents of their money, then the next time you give something away, you may get another dime.

The exhibitor seems to make no distinction between “the people” and “patrons,” yet there is a vast difference. Patrons are the people that have come to your theatre and enjoyed the music and pictures to such an extent, that they come back to see your next change of program. This may sound silly to you but the point I am driving at is, the people that come to your theatre on the strength of voting for their neighbor’s little girl, or the people that come after a souvenir cup and saucer, are not the ones that get you the money, you may pack the house on these nights and possibly draw a little business away from your competitor for a couple of nights, but, is this kind of business really getting you the money? Wouldn’t it pay you better to put on a good show and make picture fans out of them, so they will come every change of picture instead of just getting them whenever you give something away?

If you have the souvenir craze in your noodle, you had better put store pictures in your building instead of a picture machine. If you are running a picture house give them a good grade of pictures with appropriate music, and see which pays best.

In the trade papers you can see article after article encouraging better music, music that fits the pictures, yet, it seems that the exhibitor cannot see the idea. I have tried time and time again to figure it out, and I certainly wish some one would enlighten me on the question.

If the exhibitor will cater to a family business and deliver the goods he will never be obliged to resort to such unprofessional methods as voting contests, souvenirs, amateur nights, etc. You can flood the town with hand bills and fill the house, but, you cannot expect them to come back unless you give them a good show.

I have tried to encourage better music in picture houses, and I have found several level minded exhibitors who have bettered their show by putting in musicians that have some regard for the picture on the screen, and if you will notice, the exhibitor who is looking after the music is the one that is getting the business.

I have visited some houses where they have had excellent music for the pictures and still the musicians have been handicapped. I cannot say whether it has been the fault of the operator or the manager, but no matter who was to blame, the pictures were run through the machine like a Kansas cyclone, making the efforts of the musicians in vain.

Sometimes the operator is to blame for running pictures too fast but, if you sift it down you will generally find the manager has instructed the operator to “shoot the show.” The reason I say it is nearly always the manager’s fault, is because you will notice these conditions on the big nights when there is a crowd in the lobby waiting for the next show.

When a manager, for the sake of saving a few minutes’ time, will push the show, he has no use for a piano player and plays the pictures; what he wants is an electric piano.

We will take for example such a picture as the Vitagraph release of September 30, “A Home Melody,” a picture where a good musician could make the subjects talk, and then to have the manager instruct the operator to hurry the pictures along, for the sake of a few more nickels and dimes, is enough to discourage everyone interested in the advancement of the picture industry.

Another drawback in the musician’s work is poorly selected programs. You may have a good piano player, one that can follow the pictures and then not give him any chance to work. By this I mean, if you are running a three-reel show and your program is made up of three reels of comedy, your piano player is obliged to play the same class of music through the entire show and the music as well as the pictures becomes very monotonous, the same by be said of a program made up of all dramatic or all western pictures.

It is very encouraging to note that the film exchanges are trying to overcome this point by engaging program clerks that try to give the exhibitor a variety of pictures.

At Dodge theatre, Keokuk, Iowa, where I am working at present, our programs usually run the same. We try to open with a short scenic film followed by a comedy, then an Indian or western picture and close with the feature dramatic. It has always been customary with most exhibitors to close their show with comedy, but I have found, if you have a musician that can bring the life out of a strong dramatic subject, it will leave a better impression in the minds of your patrons to close with a dramatic picture instead of a comedy.

From time to time the piano players over the country receive circulars, and read advertisement in the trade papers of different music publishers that are putting motion picture music on the market in book form, and I believe if these folios are handled properly they will be a big help to musicians. By being handled properly I mean, if the piano player will take one of these books and memorize such parts as the Indian war dances and the most important features, it will be a big help to him, but you must memorize so that you will not be obliged to refer to music during the showing of the pictures.

In playing Indian pictures, never let the drummer use a tom tom except during a war dance. Some musicians are under the impression that the tom tom should be used through every Indian picture from start to finish, but this is a great mistake, the tom tom should be used for a war dance only. Another great mistake that is made by many that do not look after the little details, is the use of horse hoof imitations. Some drummers use horse hoof imitations whenever a horse is shown on the screen regardless of whether the horse is running on the grass, crossing a creek or running on a pavement. There may be many in the audience that never notice these things, at the same time there are so many that do notice details, and it is just as easy to do things right as wrong that it would be well to watch all of these points.

Another point that is sadly neglected by some trap drummers, is the telephone. It is a very easy matter for a drummer to have an electric bell in his line of traps, and I have found if they will have the push button on the floor it is a very easy matter to catch telephone cues without interfering with the other work.

Take such pictures as “Two Little Waifs” or “Waiter No. 5” the telephone effect will make a good point for you, and everyone in the audience will appreciate the fact that you are working with the pictures.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 26 November 1910, 12.

Organs, Accompanying with Songs, and Playing Scenics

After a week off, Martin returns with a column arguing against the use of organs, taking issue with Vitagraph's suggestions for music to their films, and giving advice on what music to use in accompanying "Scenics."

Have you ever stopped to consider what the manufacturers are doing toward the advancement of the motion picture business, and what has been accomplished during the last ten or twelve months? All of the manufacturers are working hard and spending thousands of dollars to make the picture business an industry that will be looked up to instead of condemned. It is certainly encouraging when they engage such people as Elbert Hubbard, Rex Beach, Roy Norton, and Caroline Wells to write their plays, and then to have such people as Pilar-Morin and Florence Turner, the greatest exponents of the silent drama the world has ever known, playing in your theatre two or three nights a week, it seems that the exhibitor should at least furnish the proper music.

I know an exhibitor in the middle west that has just ordered a six thousand dollar pipe organ for his picture house and there are hundreds of other exhibitors who have been just as foolish. With all due respect for the manufacturers of pipe organs, I think it is the worst investment a man can make. If the ten dollar piano player does not make good and the exhibitor has more money than brains, his last resort is the pipe organ. Then comes the old story, he has invested so much money in the instrument that he must cut expenses in some way so the lot falls to the musician and he secures a ten dollar organist. Great combination, is it not? If Mr. Exhibitor had only considered paying a little more money for a good piano player, one that would have made good with the audience, he would never have thought of getting a pipe organ.

Let us say, you have one of the best pipe organs on the market, and you want your musician to “play the pictures,” do you realize out of the entire output of association pictures in a week, there will not be over three reels that organ music will be appropriate? Again I say, the piano is the only instrument that can ever be used in playing the pictures.

The pipe organ gives a very effective accompaniment where a picture is shown with religious sentiment, but a piano, when handled properly is just as good, and figure the money saved. Can you imagine a pipe organ accompaniment through such pictures as “The Telephone,” Vitagraph, “The Education of Elizabeth,” Kalem, or “Examination Day at School,” Biograph, it would certainly be a joke. Of course there are two sides to all questions, on the other hand, take such a picture as Gaumont’s “A Penitent of Florence” or Pathe’s “Sister Angelica,” the organ would be great for a picture of this nature, but it is so seldom that we get such pictures, it would hardly justify anyone in paying several thousand dollars for such an instrument. Still exhibitors will pay this great amount for an organ that can only be used once in a while, and will not pay a good salary to a piano player that can accompany any picture that is thrown on the screen.

In several of the recent bulletins of the Vitograph Com-

[27] pany has offered suggestions for appropriate music to accompany several of their releases. I am certainly glad to see a company like the Vitagraph taking an interest in the musical end of the picture business, but I must admit that their suggestions are very poor. For example in their bulletin number 222, where they give a description of the release of October 29th, “The Telephone,” in their note they say, “During the scene of the telephone exchange the musicians can play selection from “The Telephone Girl.” Just think o fit, have you seen the picture? During the telephone exchange scene the telephone girl is connecting the frantic wife with her husband at the club, and the men at the club are calling the fire department, from the expression on the telephone girl’s face you can imagine she hears the cracking of the flames on the other end of the wire, that have cut off all means of escape for that frantic mother and child. And in such a scene the Vitagraph company would like to hear the catchy selections from “The Telephone Girl.”

This is a mistake that is made by half of the musicians in the country, they will pick up a publisher’s catalogue and get names of songs that correspond with the scenes portrayed and they never consider that to make their point, the audience must know what they are playing. There are a few pieces such as “It Looks Like a Big Night Tonight,” “Waiting at the Church,” “We Won’t Go Home Until Morning,” “Don’t Take Me Home,” “Everybody Works But Father,” that can be used in comedy scenes to good advantage. Such pieces as these are known by everyone and when you play them in an appropriate scene the audience appreciates your efforts.

I believe in the use of comic opera music, but not in such pictures as “The Telephone.” Whenever you get pictures such as “The Tactics of Cupid,” Gaumont, “Alice in Wonderland,” Edison, or “The Land of Oz,” Selig, there is nothing more appropriate than selections from such light operas as “King Dodo,” “The Burgomaster,” “The Sultan of Sulu,” or “Babes in Toyland.” I might say when you get a “Special” picture, such as “Chew Chew Land,” the Vitagraph release of Sept. 6th, the most appropriate music you could play would be “Oh You Spearment Kiddo, With the Wriggley Eyes.”

I have been advised by one of the largest association manufacturers that they are about to release a certain grand opera film in the near future, and, as an experiment they are compiling a musical score to accompany the picture. This music will run scene for scene with the picture and the commencement of each title will be marked with a cue on the music. It is certainly encouraging when a manufacturer will take this much interest in the music for pictures, and it seems that the exhibitor should at least do his share, by securing a competent musician to handle the music.

I believe the next improvement in the film business will be the marking of titles with a musical cue. It may be in the next three or four months, or it may be years, but it is sure to come.

To begin with, in playing appropriate music for the pictures, you must divide the pictures in classes, and for the first class let us take the scenic pictures. There is hardly a change of program in your theatre that you do not have a scenic picture on the bill. For the average scenic picture a waltz or a march is about the only music you can find appropriate for the surroundings, but there are a few exceptions. Take for example Pathe’s short scenic picture, the release of October 19th, “Around Pekin,” or the Urban-Eclipse release of July 20, “Pekin, the Walled City,” try and arrange some weird or oriental music, play it in a regular Chinese sing song way and have your drummer keep time with his Turkish cymbal and the tom tom at the same time. It may be possible that later on, I can prepare a small chart for this page showing my style of oriental music.

When you get such a picture as the Pathe release of September 9th, “The Belgian Army,” or the Vitagraph release of October 29th, “A Day on the French Battleship Justice,” never attempt to use anything but a march. The same may be said about the first and last part of the Vitagraph picture released October 11th. “Actors’ Fund Field Day,’ save your marches for all military events, processions, and any picture where a band is shown.

For industrial pictures, such as the Selig release of August 1st, “Shrimps,” the Urban-Eclipse release of August 24th “Shipbuilding of Toulon, France,” or the Pathe release of September 5th, “Zoological Gardens in Antwerp” a good waltz is the best, and in fact the only music that can be used. On the other hand if you have some industrial or scenic pictures taken in Spain or Mexico, you can play some Spanish air that will give life, and be in keeping with the picture and it gives the drummer a chance to use Castanets tambourines.

In my next article I will give a few points in playing for Indian pictures. Indian pictures are possibly the easiest of all to play but the use of the tom tom is sadly abused in most places. There is a great deal in the drummer knowing when to use the tom tom and when not to, and I will try and make this point clear, next week.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 19 November 1910, 26-27.

Accompanying with Song Quotes

In this column, Clyde Martin discusses using song quotes to accompany a film. "Funning"—the ironic use of quotes to burlesque a film—is apparently not yet an issue, but Martin does caution against overusing the device, especially in dramatic pictures.

Once again, Martin rambles a bit before getting on point. The peculiar punctuation has also been retained from the original.

Some people are under the impression that to become an excellent piano player they must master sight reading, and I agree with them if they expect to follow concert work, but my advice to those wishing to become picture pianists, is to throw away your music and “fake,” as you can never play pictures as long as you are obliged to keep your music in front of you.

I was much amused at a little incident that happened in a picture house in the southern part of Indiana. The energetic young lad that presided over the ivories was making a great effort to accompany the pictures with appropriate music. He had two pieces in his repertoire, one for comedy scenes and one for dramatic scenes. If a picture opened with a dramatic scene, it never failed that his rag time score was in front of him, and by the time he had his correct music in place, the scene would be over.

You cannot expect to sort out your music during the showing of a picture and hold your audience to the scenes portrayed.

There are a few scenes in some of the comedy pictures where you can use strains from popular songs, but this can easily be overdone and if you give them too much of it the audience soon tires of you and an electric piano could take your place as far as the audience is concerned.

With the dramatic scenes it is different. During the showing of a heavy dramatic production, popular music is out of the question, unless you have a chance to use some of those good old tunes such as “Silver Threads Among the Gold,” “MY Old Kentucky Home,” “Annie Laurie,” etc. They are the pieces that reach home, if there is anything on earth that will hold an audience, it is one of those tunes. But don’t force them on the picture, wait your chance, wait until some good picture comes along that you can use one of them.

Do you remember the Biograph release of August 8. “The House With Closed Shutters?” There was your chance for “My Old Kentucky Home.” Let us take this picture as an example. Can you imagine a more pathetic scene than the closing of the picture where the old negro comes on the porch of the stately colonial mansion and closes the shutters, never to be opened again, and when the strains “By and by Hard Times Comes a Knocking at the Door,” then, “My Old Kentucky Home Good Night,” reaches the ears of the audience, every man, woman and child, in their mind repeats those famous lines, they not only repeat the words of the song with the action of the picture, they can picture the sorrow that is behind those closed shutters and can see the broken hearted mother protecting the family name. In this case the music has been as great a feature as the picture, but, you must take in consideration, you cannot place the music for “My Old Kentucky Home” on the piano and play it as it is written. You must be original, you must create and use expression. You must not try to make the picture fit your music you must make the music fit with the picture. Try and cultivate a sympathetic touch if you ever expect to make good in playing pictures.

As an example, for a good comedy picture, one that you can use several popular tunes during the showing and not overdo the thing, we will take the Edison release of August 26, “The Valet’s Vindication.” About the third scene in the picture is where Kirby, the valet, is awaiting the arrival of a number of friends, he has invited in to spend the evening. The table is well supplied with refreshments, cigars, poker chips, etc., and the audience will repeat the lines with you “It Looks Like a Big Night To-night,” you have won your first point. The next scene shows the Valet the morning after the party, considerably the worse for the wear, and asleep at the table. If you will play just a few strains from “The Morning After the Night Before” it will make every man in the audience, want to hand Kirby a cold towel and a pitcher of ice water. You have won your second point. Two points are enough in this picture, it is well to remember not to run a good thing in the ground. During the showing of the balance of the picture play some lively air until you come to the last scene, where, Beekman and Miss Bradley have been married and are enjoying their first home breakfast with Kirby as a sort of a guardian angel of the household, then play “The Waning Honeymoon” from “The Time, The Place and the Girl” until the close of the picture. In my next article I will show a few points where the average drummer is a handicap to the musician playing pictures. Drums are well enough in certain parts of pictures, but they are a detriment when used through the entire show.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 29 October 1910, 7.

Advice to Pianists

This is Clyde Martin's second column for Film Index. (There is no column for 15 October.) His column now has a rudimentrary header (shown below) and the page layout has all the trappings of a regular feature.

The article itself rambles a bit, with a call for quiet houses, for managers not to use their piano player as bally hoo, and for pianists to improvise.

If I should tell you, you can play better in the winter than in the summer, you would say, “to the nut farm for him.” But it is a fact, not because in the summer you have that lazy feeling and in the winter you feel like working, that is not the idea at all. Again you will say, I am crazy when I say it is the manager’s fault; yes (poor manager) he gets blamed for everything he does, his mind is so busily engaged at the box office that he forgets to oil his fans, and the (fall guy) the patron, upon entering the picture show is first under the impression that he made a mistake and in his absent-mindedness has entered a machine shop instead of a picture show.

In these joints you will never find it to fail that the piano player in order to make himself heard must either play rag time through a picture or do a pantomime stunt at the piano. Then Mr. Manager, will call the musician on the carpet and ask him why he plays rag time through a pathetic scene.

The greatest point about playing appropriate music for pictures is to hold the audience, but this I mean to keep the audience so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Now don’t tell me this is impossible, because I have played in picture houses from Franklin avenue in St. Louis to the best in the country, and have had an audience to work to, from a bunch of Greeks and “Wopa” to the most exclusive set at Washington, D. C.

To begin with, you must have a quiet house. There is nothing that will appeal to an audience as quick as soft music.

I recall a time I was working in the best house in St. Louis and I laid off for a couple of days to study the conditions in the “joints,” so I went down on Market street, and got a job at nine dollars a week, the most that had ever been paid on the street. The first night the manager came to me and said I could certainly play pictures, but he would have to let me go because they could not hear me on the street, “Canuamaginit.”

That is the fault with the average exhibitor today; he doesn’t want a piano player, he wants a Bally-Hoo.

I believe you will find conditions better in the West and Middle West than any other part of the country, and I lay it to the fact that the managers look after the show as well as the box office. In the Western theatres you will find that they have very little transient business, they naturally cater to a family business and are obliged to deliver the goods, as competition is very strong.

Taking this into consideration they have actually gone as strong as to pay a piano player “eighteen dollars;” just think of it (joke).

I find that the musicians in the west are making every effort to play the pictures and some of them are making a pretty good stab at it, but nine out of every ten are handicapped by a noisy house, the buzzing of fans, the rattle of the machine, and the conversation of the ushers with their friends in the back rows and still the manager wonders why his piano player does not make good.

At present I am playing at Dodges Theatre, Keokuk, Iowa, and I believe I can use this picture house as an example. To begin with, during a pathetic scene in a picture the ushers are instructed to hold all late comers to the rear of the house. The aisles are covered with a heavy carpet, so there is no noise from those passing in and out. There are over twenty electric fans running in the theatre during the summer months, and it is the duty of the electrician to go over them every other day to see that they are in perfect running order. I have played in this theatre for fourteen months, and I believe the patrons of the house are the greatest picture critic on earth.

The exhibitors over the country have had a very easy time during the infancy of motion pictures but the time has come when the public is demanding more than a flicker on the screen; the time is here when you have got to deliver the goods or get out of business, and the sooner the exhibitor recognizes the piano player as a feature of the entertainment the sooner the higher standard will be reached.

It does not take a renowned soloist to play the pictures, it takes what is commonly known as a fakir.* My advise [sic] to a musician with ambitions to become a picture player, is, throw away your music, improvise, and study expression.

In my next article I will point out a few pictures of recent release where popular music can be adapted to the action, but they are few and far between. Popular music with few exceptions can only be used with comedy pictures, while with dramatic pictures, you must either improvise, or give it up as a bad job.

* i.e., “faker”—jwb.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 22 October 1910, 13.

Playing the Pictures

Here is Clyde Martin's inaugural column in Film Index. As far as I'm aware this is the first regular column on music to appear in the American trade papers, preceding Clarence E. Sinn's "Music for the Pictures" by a couple of months. Martin's column will run until Film Index ceases publication in July 1911, at which point he will write occasionally on sound effects for Moving Picture World.

Proper Music for Motion Pictures and How to Play It

Clyde Martin is one of the few pianists in the country to make a specialty of playing for motion pictures. He is at present filling and engagement at Dodge’s theatre, Keokuk, Iowa, and while on a short trip to new York last week consented to write a series of articles on “The Proper Music for Motion Pictures,” for The Film Index. The articles will no doubt be a great help to musicians in the picture business.

No. 1—The Manager.

He was a shrewd (?) man. The clothing business was too slow and he had been fortunate enough to lay away a few thousand just about the time the call of the motion pictures began to ring in his ears. He figured: a nice front, a screen, a box office, and the public would do the rest. So Mr. Narrowmind secured an excellent location in the heart of the business district and spent a liberal amount on a handsome front. He secured the best machine and the best of everything for decorations, then came the salary list.

He wanted an attractive girl at the window. Many applied who would work for three dollars a week, but the one he wanted demanded ten dollars. Then came the doorman. Now, it kept him awake nights thinking of some popular fellow that could give everyone the glad hand. The man he decided on, just the fellow to his notions, would have laughted [sic] if he had been offered six dollars a week for the job, so he figured it money well spent to pay him fourteen. Then came the difficulty that ninety out of every hundred exhibitors experience before opening; the salary list was too large and the seating capacity too small; the same old story. Get a cheap piano player and singer.

Well, to make a long story short, the house was opened and everyone in the neighborhood was willing to take a chance, once. The house was packed, the pictures were fine, but there was something lacking, something that gave the audience an uneasy feeling that made them restless. Mr. Narrowmind stood in the lobby as the crowd passed out, he heard several knocks, but could not understand. Charlotte de Luxe in the box office certainly looked good to the passers-by, and A. La Mode certainly gave everyone the glad hand as they let loose of the pasteboards, but, still the knocks continued night after night until some friend finally suggested a new piano player.

“What! a new piano player!” He only had to pay this one six dollars a week, and the way business was falling off he would have to get a cheaper one.

The can be applied to nine out of every ten exhibitors to-day. I have found that the average exhibitor regards the piano player as a fill in, or something to break the monotony. It grieves me to make this statement, but the average piano player is worse than something to break the monotony, he makes the show monotonous. It is not their fault, it is the fault of the manager, because he pays them such a small salary that they have no heart to work for his interests. They do not care whether the picture is comedy or drama, they are paid a “rag time salary” and it’s “rag time music” the manager gets.

I know a great many managers who buy every new appliance for their machines; have installed the new screens and spend any amount of money to improve the picture, and still they employ a cheap piano player, who is worse than none at all. They do not take into consideration that the music makes the picture, and if they hope to make “picture fans” out of their audience, they should furnish the proper music with the pictures.

How many picture shows have you been in and heard some piano player playing a slow waltz through a comedy, or rag time through some dramatic scene? As soon as the exhibitor wakes up and insists upon his piano player following the pictures, and will pay him the right salary for the same, he will soon realize why his theatre has been a losing proposition in the past. The manufacturers are daily striving to better their productions and place pictures on a higher standard, the exhibitor should do his share.

In my next article I will give the piano players some tips that will be helpful to them in their work, and make them more valuable.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 8 October 1910, 30.

Jackass Music

This is the infamous (if somewhat misnamed) "Jackass Music." Although Louis Reeves Harrison does attack "Lilly Limpwrist" and her ragtime piano, he hurls more invective in the direction of "Percy Peashaker," the drummer who won't shut up. (He also takes aim at Freddy Fuzzlehead, the vaudeville pianist, though his attack here seems to me less trenchant.) In any case, the piece is highly entertaining, and the accompanying illustrations by H. F. Hoffman may be more damning than the article itself.

Civilization is not a crab, but theatrical managers walk sideways if not backwards when they allow their musicians to play the wrong accompaniment to the right composition whether of song or picture. O, what a noise when the lights are turned low and Lily Limpwrist takes her place at the usual instrument of torture! With a self-conscious smirk she gives a poke to her back switch, dabs her side teasers with both patties, rolls up her sleeves and tears off "That Yiddisher Rag." She bestows a clam smile on the box-of-candy young man in the first row, but the presentation on the screen fails to divert her "I-seen-you" glances any more than if it was the point of a joke.

The chorus-girl who attempts to pose as a prima-donna with little more equipment than a tuft of bleached hair, a pair of high-heeled slippers and a cigarette voice can be tolerated, we often endure the howling and screeching of a Tommy trying to sing "Come into the garden Maud," but when Lily Limpwrist assails our unprotected organs of hearing with her loony repertoire it seems a shame to throw away ten cents on such a performance, to say nothing of the time wasted. We sit patiently through the act of an imported star, who commends to our attention the interesting intelligence "Me Rag, Moy Bess usedter droive em cryzy at the Croiterion," we submit to the inanities of the chin-whiskered, pillow-paunched Dutch comedian, who says: "Vot it is, is it? Ask me," and we even tolerate the Irish comedian, shaved yesterday, who looks like an undertaker out-of-a-job when he wails in a hold-over voice: "Where thuh dear-ol Sha-hamrock gurrows," but there is a limit.

Lily is all right at home, when her mother importunes her to "play something and don't wait to be teased," or still better as a summer-eve girl on a Coney-Island boat, but no man will ever marry a girl who plays a dance while the pictured man is in a death struggle; she would probably be at one when the real one was in trouble. The girl of sympathy will play music in accord with the pictured story, the girl of ambition will try to improve the quality of her work, the girl of sense will try to improve the quality of the performance, draw patronage instead of driving it away, benefit the management, and show to others who are looking for pianists that she is not a fat-wit but a woman of ideas and good taste.

The performance of Lily Limpwrist is a poetic dream compared to the diabolical dipso-mania Freddy Fuzzlehead and Percy Peashaker when they cut loose between the "vodeveal" acts. Gee! Non compos mentis and le diable au corps for theirs and and a free pass to Matteawan for what they have done to kill the box-office receipts at moving-picture shows. Percy is really a wonder. When there is water in the picture it goes to Percy's cerebrum. If there is a lake shown on the screen, no matter if it is a mile away, calm or stormy, he shakes his box of peas so that we may know that it is principally made of water. Realism becomes intense when a vessel appears and Percy blows a whistle "Oo-Oo" to enforce the fact that it is a steamer and not a full-rigged ship. "Bow-wow" indicates that we are looking at a dog and not a door-mat, "Honk-honk" gives one a thrilling remembrance of crossing Broadway after the theatre with fifty cow-boy taxis in full pursuit, and he is a master of such startling effects as clapping two blocks of wood together when an old nag candidate for the glue factory trots along a country road. But Percy's star act, the one that gets a laugh, is his imitation of a baby crying, no matter whether the one on the screen is nursing or merely dying. Percy is a comparatively new type of ego-maniac, but whether we must humor him or put him in a padded cell must be left to the alienists.


If you were to ask a large proportion of the audience what should be done to Freddy Fuzzlehead they would vote to shoot him, but I am in favor of slow torture, making the punishment fit the crime, put him in a room where there is another of his kind playing with the piano and let him die a lingering death. Ten thousand dollars a day is spent to amuse people with the moving pictures, good, bad and indifferent, but all are bad or indifferent when Fuzzlehead does his long-eared stunt. Ten millions of people pay their nickles and dimes to see the moving pictures, and these shock-headed kleptopianoacs steal their pleasure away in order to practice the accompaniment for the song-and-dance comedians, those who come on the sage [sic] and say "I will now sing you a little ballad entitled 'Show you are a clod-hopper by keeping time with your feet.'" The same comedian who gets no applause from the long-suffering audience and asks if they are hand-cuffed, or says to the piano man, sotto voce, "Did y'ever s-see sucha lotta dubs?" The hallroom lobster on the stage is "great" to Fuzzlehead, the

[125] boob action exactly suits the boob at the piano, the moving pictures are rot, he could do better himself if he had time, but he would say the same thing if he was shown the treasures of the Louvre or the Palace of Luxembourg. Ten thousand dollars a day is spent to produce the moving pictures, and it would be impossible to say how much more to keep going the ten thousand motion-picture theatres throughout the country. These pictures are not all masterpieces, many of them are very crude, but the whole art is in a primitive state, is constantly improving, and the exhibitions are kept alive by their production. People go every day to see the pictures, once in a while for the variety entertainment, and it is not only asinine but unbusiness-like to lower the grade of musical accompaniment when the lights are turned down. Inappropriate music may "do" for an unintelligent part of the audience, but what is the use of driving away the intelligent portion? All other parts of the theatrical working force move in harmony, like the wheels of a clock, but these fatheads against the stage apron are like the clock alarm that goes off when you don't need it and never when you do. Attention of managers to the comfort of patrons would help matters some, and little higher salaries would help a great deal to get suitable music. Better music means better patronage and more of it, and superior patronage means a demand for superior photoplays. Suitable music is an essential. If the drummer can not be taught to subordinate his morbid craving for attention to the general effect, cut him out altogether and pay more for a pianist who can improvise softly during the scenes of pathos or utilize opera selections for the dramatic effects.

Bangity-bang-bang. Bing-bang-bang.

Desperate Desmond has got Claude Eclaire in a tight place, but no mater, the "rag" is on, "hit it up."

Bangity-bang-bang! Bing-bang-bang!

There is a tender-hearted mother dying in the little play the world around her is subdued and silent, her face is pale, her frame attenuated, her respiration is heavy with sighs of sorrow and unsatisfied desire to have her children properly cred for. Tears are falling like her life illusions, she is overcome with her double burden of pain and sorrow, her eyes, inflamed by the fever of unattained hopes, turn beseechingly to the infinite power above, a last faint sigh, the eyes close foreer:

Bangity-bang-bang! Bing-bang-bang!

Source: Louis Reeves Harrison, "Jackass Music," Moving Picture World 21 January 1911, 124-25.

Types of Musical Accompaniment

This is an excerpt from George Beynon's 23 March 1918 "Music for the Picture" column in The Moving Picture World. In this column Beynon tries to sort out the differences among the music services available to producers and exhibitors of the time. In the middle of his discussion, he takes a long detour into issues of modulation.

“Music Service for the Exhibitor.”

A well-known producer confessed to us the other day that he did not know the difference between a score, a setting or a cue sheet, and supplemented the remark by saying he did not believe one producer in ten knew what he was paying for in the matter of the much-abused term, “Music Service for the Exhibitor.”

For the information of exhibitor, producer and orchestra leaders, we will try to classify specifically all forms of music pertinent to “Fitting the Pictures.”

MUSICAL SCORE—A Musical score is a compilation of either original or standard music, prepared in synchrony with each and every dominant scene of the picture, carrying throughout themes and counter-themes to denote the characters portrayed on the screen. Each number should be in key sequence and arranged in such a manner that there be no obvious break during the playing of the entire score. They must of necessity be short, and for that reason requires varied orchestral treatment to avoid monotony. Many occasions arise where there are two characters in the foreground, and two themes must be blended together, showing two emotions at one and the same time. Frequently a standard number must be changed in tempo and rhythm to convey the proper idea. Special legitimate effects sometimes must be arranged by the use of the orchestral instruments themselves to obviate shoddiness. All these things call for superb orchestration and a thorough knowledge of instrumentation. A real musical score requires almost as much ingenuity, careful thought and untiring efforts as an opera score, for in every way it meets the same obstacles, which must be overcome. “The scores for “The Birth of a Nation,” “Ramona,” “Civilization,” “Intolerance,” or “Peer Gynt,” will live and continue to be classed as epochs in the picture industry. These are prepared only for the big run features.

MUSICAL SETTING—A musical setting is comprised of standard selections placed loosely, in rotation, in a folder, for the purpose of fitting a picture. There is no synchrony, and because of that fact, no key sequence is considered, for it may happen that where the break occurs the key will fit the following number perfectly. For practical purposes one theme only is used, although it is sometimes feasible to use two. This music cannot possibly fit every foot of the picture, but can hold the atmosphere in a general way and carry the picture. These are used in every theater and are frequently prepared by the aid of cue sheets.

MUSICAL CUE SHEET—A musical cue sheet is a prepared list of cues, indicating where the music should be changed, and suggesting certain selections which are suitable for use, with the tempo and character of each noted to allow for substitution. The approximate time is shown, and sometimes a three-word description of the scene to be fitted is given. Cue sheets are distributed by the picture producers for the benefit of the exhibitor who cannot procure his film in time to see it before the first performance, and are good, bad, or indifferent, according to the ability displayed by the writer of them.

MUSICAL SUGGESTION SYNOPSIS is a concise musical review of the picture with suggested numbers that may be used as a theme. Atmosphere, period of time, location and big moments are noted, and frequently selections are mentioned for use in the climaxes.

At the present time of writing, the above is a complete classification of music for the pictures. The rapid growth of the industry, bringing with it new ideas, may cause changes to be made in the method of musical presentation, but now we can only rely on four forms denoting picture accompaniment.

The importance of music as an adjunct to the picture has been but recently recognized, and there is considerable confusion in the minds of producer, exhibitor and layman regarding its classification. By definition, example and qualifications, we have tried to standardize music for the pictures in order that the producer will not be further muieted [quieted?] by unscrupulous arrangers, and exhibitors will know what they are getting when called by its proper name.

Scores and settings are frequently regarded as one, and the same thing and capital is made out of it by those fakers who throw together loose music and demand score prices for it. In many respects the two are alike; they are played as an accompaniment and must fit the picture. The difference lies in the necessary qualifications required by each.

A score must follow the picture minutely, foot by foot, as an accompaniment follows the voice. It must be in perfect synchrony. By this we mean that if a dominant scene has a footage of 150 feet, and the film projection calls for 15 minutes to the thousand feet, the appropriate selections should run exactly two minutes and fifteen seconds. Naturally the number of measures required will be governed by the tempo selected. An adagio or andante sostenuto number will not be as long as an allegro or allegretto. The following examples, indicative of the time duration of fifteen seconds, will show a marked difference, and by using these as a basis one can readily understand how an entire score can be in absolute synchrony.


A score must have key sequence—in other words, each successive number must be in a relative key to the one immediately preceding it. As students of harmony well know, there are five relatives to every key, so the task is not so great as would appear on the surface. Besides using legitimate relatives, it is permissible to use an enharmonic key, or one which begins with a note common in the chord of the preceding key; for example: Going from the key of F to the Key of A major, we find A is the third of the chord in the key of F, and is also the tonic of the key of A. The best results are obtained when they finish and begin.

At (A) you will notice the upper A is held in common, the F falls one half tone, and the C rises one-half tone, while at (B) these progressions similarly obtain, but in different voices.

The following examples of enharmonic keys are the only ones available and must be used judiciously lest discord appear in the change:

1—5 flats, key of Db, has for its enharmonic 7 sharps, key of C sharp
2—6 flats, key of Gb, has for its enharmonic 6 sharps, key of F sharp
6—7 flats, key of Cb, has for its enharmonic 5 sharps, key of B
and vice versa.

The following table of relative flat keys is worked out in the sharp keys in the same manner.

[1662] Our contention is not that these keys should be used in sequence and selection made with this in mind only. By no means. A number must first be selected for its suitability alone, and then if it does not fall within the rule for key sequence, it should be transposed to a key relative to the preceding number. Before deciding the key for transposition, the orchestration should be carefully scrutinized lest a key be selected that will carry some instrument out of its range. This would be calamitous and make the work of transposition absolutely abortive. Where there appears to be no key suitable for transposition, it is better to write an original modulation for approximately a fifteen-second length. This should be tacked on the end of the preceding number and not used at the cue for the next number. Of course, allowance should be made for it in the timing.

The qualifications required for a musical setting are by no means so exacting, nor do they entail such minute detail or painstaking effort. It must fit the picture in a general way and portray the big emotions depicted. No special orchestral arranging is necessary, no blending of themes is possible, nor is key sequence counted upon to work out satisfactorily. Synchrony is not attempted; the principal problem is simply to fit the picture with standard music. This form of musical accompaniment is not a score and must not be classed as such.

Turning from the playable music to the suggestion sheets, remarkable as it may seem, we frequently see producing companies advertise their cue sheets as scores. This is misleading to the exhibitor and his orchestra leader, and is most detrimental to the company itself.

The difference between the cue sheet suggestions and the musical suggestion synopsis is again the difference between detail and generality. In both cases the picture must be seen in order to suggest proper music, but when a cue sheet is prepared, it entails the use of a stop-watch to catch the time, a stenographer to get the titles, and an assistant to note the effects. When the data has been obtained, each number must be selected with care, looking to its suitability, and practicability, for small combinations, as well as for its probable existence in the library of the average orchestra leader. Of course, the tempo being given, he has a chance to substitute if he deems it wise, and this is made easy because of the given time duration. Cue sheets are sent out when no score is prepared, and from them the leader can compile his musical setting.

Musical leaders prefer to disregard cue sheets for some reason or other, and yet they require some idea of the picture they must fit. These fellows used to read the reviews of the pictures in question and thus learn its general trend. As an aid to this class of musicians, the musical suggestion synopsis was adopted and has received many high commendations for its brevity and conciseness. It is also an aid to those leaders who have been neglected by the exchange, or whose cue sheet has been delayed in the mails. It suggests the music required in a general way and leaves to the judgment of the orchestra conductor the proper presentation of his picture.

Music service in any form is absolutely essential to the up-to-date theater, and every producer should see to it that he is getting the service he is paying for under its proper classification.

Source: [George W. Beynon,] “Music for the Picture,” MPW 23 March 1918, 1661-62.