Wurlitzer, Sound Effects, and a Letter from Columbus

Sinn's column appeared only sporadically during the summer months, and this particular column seemed to serve primarily to drum up reader interest in the column. For whatever reason Sinn would place only two more columns in Moving Picture World before the end of September.

Here, Sinn spends the first part of the column on the Wurlitzer Hope-Jones Unit Orchestra, which had made a very big impression at the summer trade show in New York. This instrument is indeed the forerunner of the mighty Wurlitzer that would become legendary during the picture palace era. Wurlitzer had long advertised in the Moving Picture World, but their ads, as the one to the left, had generally sold their cheaper automatic instruments, with the promise that its automatic instruments would "furnish better music than musicians and reduce expenses." Wurlitzer did not, for the most part, advertise the Unit Orchestra directly in Moving Picture World—though it did receive fairly extensive coverage in news items.

Sinn then turns to Lapin's (Excelsior) "Dramagraph" sound effects cabinet, which had likewise impressed at the trade show, before printing a long letter urging musicians to play appropriate music. He ends with a short item announcing a collection of music written specially for "motion picture work."

Come Right In; Don’t Stop to Knock.

The editor of this department has been a few weeks vacation and in consequence the page has been neglected somewhat. Now that we are back in the harness we are going to try with your help to make the music department more interesting than before. Those having new ideas, worries, questions or answers—anything in fact which may be of interest to your fellow musicians—please come forward with your offerings. It says “Welcome” on the door-mat and we are always glad to hear from you.

To the exhibitor who contemplates the installation of a pipe organ in his theater, I would respectfully suggest that before deciding he will give a thorough inspection to the Wurlitzer-Hope-Jones Unit Orchestra. (The manufacturers object to its being styled an organ, tho it is played the same.) Exhibitors who attended the convention in New York heard this instrument among other exhibits, of course; they could not very well help it, but amid all the confusion, bustle and many-voiced sounds, the Unit-Orchestra had little or no opportunity of demonstrating its value as applied to picture-music. To appreciate its worth, one must see and hear a practical demonstration and I found one at the Astor Theater where “Quo Vadis” is being shown. Many of the visitors attended this performance, no doubt. Those who did not, missed a treat. I saw it three times this week and enjoyed Mr. Clarence W. Dow’s masterly accompaniment upon a Wurlitzer-Hope-Jones Unit Orchestra. I wish to remark in passing, that Mr. Dow is an artist, an experienced picture-musician and one of the very few I have been fortunate enough to hear, who can improvise appropriate and musical music to moving pictures.

The instrument at the Astor Theater is only one of their many styles and, as the manufacturers justly say, is destined to become very popular. So again I suggest before you decide upon that pipe organ inform yourself regarding the Hope-Jones Unit Orchestra. The Rudolf Wurlitzer Co. will gladly give you details in case you are so situated that a personal examination is impossible.

Sound Effects.

Lapin’s “Dramagraph” was another exhibit which attracted much attention. This is purely a “sound-effect” instrument and its inventor claims that it can be made to produce “any conceivable sound known and used in dramatic or photoplay portrayal.” As that will cover theoretically every sound known to art and nature, you can see it is a pretty big proposition. At that I think they made all of them and added a few original noises during that week of July 7th. It is “some sound box” all right.

A Few Remarks From Columbus, Ohio.

“So much has been said about music for pictures in your valuable magazine that I feel as though I might add a few words of advice to picture-pianists. First of all, play the picture as it should be played, if you know how. If not, give up your position to one who does know how and save your credit. Not every pianist is qualified to play pictures. I have known the very finest performers of piano to be utterly lost on a picture as far as appropriate music for the picture goes. First of all study your picture thoroughly before you touch the piano, know just what you are playing for and play it. If you played a song for a singer you would have some feeling about that song, wouldn’t you? I am sure no piano player, no matter how brilliant or what amount of knowledge of music he may have, would play ‘Il Travatore’ in the same rambling time and tone as he would ‘Grizzly Bear.’ If some of the old authors who spent the best of their lives in writing such pieces as ‘Melody in F,’ ‘Sextette from Lucia,’ ‘Il Travatore,’ ‘Poet and Peasant,’ or any of the higher class of music, could hear how it is being literally butchered by the ragtime banger, they would week with mortification if they at all recognized their composition. Now, piano player, for sake of poor suffering humanity, please play as though you enjoyed your work and were not doing it simply because you had to, to buy a new frock or that it was more of a task than a pleasure. It is a task for an intelligent audience to sit through, probably, the very finest set of pictures, when they are poorly played. Play all the latest popular airs, of course, and, as much lively ragtime pieces as you like, but for your own sakes play them at the right time and in the right places. It is always best with a three (3) reel subject to carry the feeling of one reel straight into the next one, then play a rag or poplar air at the close of the picture. I was in a picture show in my own town just a few nights ago. The picture was ‘In Slavery Days,’ a Southern drama. The pianist was an exception; she played All the old Southern airs, I believe, that was ever written from ‘Kentucky Home’ to variation of ‘Mocking Bird’ and between the reels she played variations of ‘Massa’s in the Cole, Cole Ground,’ and, to tell the truth, there was not a dry eye in the house and scarcely a breath drawn between reels, simply because that girl got her audience and she held them. One more word, pianists throw your whole life and soul into your picture. Just make yourself fit in and put feeling into your playing. I believe that the time will eventually come when the ragtime junk will be thrown out altogether, and the higher class of compositions used. Pianist should remember that no matter where the theater is located, there is bound to be a musician at some time or other visit it. And they should also remember that his or her manager is depending on them for exactly one-half of his entertainment. If the pianist is no part of the entertainment and cannot hold up his or her end of the entertainment, the sooner the music is dispensed with the better. I have played in picture shows for seven years and the best way to play for pictures is to get the ‘Moving Picture World’ and the moving picture stories each week and read all the stories of the picture your exchange furnishes. Then you are familiar with the thread of the picture before the show. And until pianists do acquaint themselves with the different subjects of the pictures, the managers are bound to have poor music.

“The pianist alluded to in the above is Mrs. Ethel London at the Oakwood Theater, Columbus, Ohio, and I believe her to be one of the best in our City.

“Mrs. I. B. Sneed.”

New Music.

I notice Mr. J. Bodewalt Lampe, the well known American composer, is about to launch a collection of music designed for motion picture work. Mr. Lampe expects to have it on the market in a few weeks and you will doubtless see his announcement in these pages when the work is ready. It will be for piano and orchestra and can be used for any combination of instruments, and will, I am sure, be a welcome addition to the meager selection of music designed especially for picture work which is now on the market.

Clarence E. Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 23 August 1913, 833.
Image Sources: Excelsior Sound Effect Cabinet Moving Picture World 12 July 1913, 256; Wurlitzer Moving Picture World 9 August 1913, 692.

Deagan Bells

This two-page ad for Deagan Bells appeared in Moving Picture World on 5 April 1913, and it initiated a new advertising campaign for the company, which began running a weekly full page ad in the paper. (One example of the weekly version is shown to the right.) As this ad from 1910 shows, Deagan had previously run ads in the trade paper, but with this ad buy they became the most prominent music advertiser in the paper, eclipsing Wurlitzer's regular quarter page. Presumably, as part of the ad buy, they received this favorable notice in the paper:

Remarkable List of New Electrical Instruments

J. C. Deagan, the well known manufacturer of musical novelty instruments, announces in his advertisement, in this issue of the Moving Picture World, a new catalogue, introducing 240 different, electrically operated instruments, particularly suited for just motion picture theaters, and which can be played either individually, collectively, or in any combination in connection with a piano easily manipulated by the piano player.

A representative of the Moving Picture World recently made a call at the home of the Deagan Bells, a beautifully appointed and modern factory, costing $350,000. located at 1770 Berteau Avenue, Chicago. Claude Deagan, the genial young manager, conducted the World man through the factory and showed him a great number of remarkable instruments, which, no doubt, will make a great hit in motion picture theaters. The two most striking instruments are the new improved Musical Electric Bells and the new Deagan Electric Cathedral Chimes. The Musical Electric Bells have been improved considerably. They can be played soft or loud, single stroke or vibrating, at the will of the operator, by merely pressing buttons conveniently located on an ivory keyboard. The bells are mounted on a handsomely nickel-plated floor rack, but can also be distributed around various parts of the theater, if so desired.

A truly beautiful instrument is the Electrical Cathedral Chimes, made of the purest bell metal. It gives the best imitation of church chimes ever produced. These chimes are also electrically operated from an ivory key-board, and can be distributed throughout the theater, the same as the Deagan Musical Electrical Bells. Other new instruments are the new style Swiss Electric Bells, the Electric Octaphone, the Electric Orchestra Bells, the Electric Parsifal Bells, the Electric Steel Marimbaphone and Electric Xylophones.

Source: “Remarkable List of New Electrical Instruments,” Moving Picture World 5 April 1913, 50.
Image Sources: Two page spread: Moving Picture World 5 April 1913, 112-13; one-page version: Moving Picture World 12 April 1913, 207.

British Trade Exhibition

This is an excerpt of an article on a 1913 industry trade show in Britain. A lot of manufacturers of mechanical musical instruments and sound effects machines evidently showed their wares—in any case, there were enough that the article had this whole section devoted to them.

British Trade Exhibition
Moving Picture Symposium in London—Fourteen Picture Theaters in One.

(Specially Reported By Our Own Representative.)

SATURDAY, March 22 will be an important date in the history of the moving picture industry in Great Britain, for on that day was opened in London, under most distinguished auspices, the first industrial exhibition ever held in this country in connection with development of the kinema as an educational, scientific and entertaining factor.

[…]

Sound Instruments.

It would seem from the many mechanical musical instruments shown at Olympia that, so far as the smaller shows are concerned, the orchestra will soon be swept out of existence. A most ingenious contrivance which attracted endless attention was a violin-playing instrument. The sceptic showman will ask "How can a machine draw a bow across a fiddle with accurate musical expression." That is not the point. The violin plays the bow, the latter remaining stationary throughout. The invention consists of a three-legged frame to which is attached three violins, close together and all in line. Across the three is stretched a huge bow and when the motor is set going and the sound regulator fed with paper music rools [sic] the three play together. Pneumatic stops regulate the strings instead of fingers.

The stentorian was another device which attracted endless notice. It was really an elaboration of the gramaphone [sic] except in stentorian notes which could be heard from one end of the building to the other. Combinations of pianos, organs, orchestrions and violins were exhibited by the dozen and all were under electric control, compact, and regulated on the press-the-button principle.

Machines for sound effects were as common as flies on a July morning and the cacophanic [sic] catastrophes produced by some were bewildering in the extreme. One small instrument, for instance, no larger than a sewing machine and known as the "Kinesounder," almost produced a panic. The operator pressed seven of its levers down simultaneously; then immediately fire alarms rang, police whistles blew, the fire engine hooter buzzed, horses galloped and vehicles rattled, timber cracked as though burning and passable imitations of falling floors and roofs were interspersed with many other noises of a fire scene. This machine produces about fifty other different stage noises with one of the most realistic resemblances of smashing crockery I have ever heard.

Source: Our Own Representative, “British Trade Exhibition,” Moving Picture World 19 April 1913, 259.

Sound Editing Oscar

The New York Times published a nice article by Virginia Heffernan on the nominees for Academy Award in sound editing. The article opens with this evocative bit of writing on The Hurt Locker, which I agree should win the Oscar:

”The Hurt Locker” is a bomb movie that mutes its booms. It derives suspense by withholding the expected “boomala, boomala” . . .

“The Hurt Locker” is not cool. It’s hot and dry, a heaving desert parable with a mounting sandstorm howl at the center. The internal explosions matter more than the fireworks. . . . The top notes in the soundtrack are arid metallic clicks, snips, squeaks and creaks, the chatter of wrenches and wire clippers, as bombs are defused in air so parched as to seem combustible itself. Men can hardly summon the spit or breath to speak.

After running through three other nominees—Up , Star Trek and Inglorious Basterds—rather harshly (and I would say a bit unfairly), Heffernan turns to Avatar, calling its sound "brazenly cartoonish”; this characterization is in fact a positive.

What stands out is the whoosh of muscular—not fluttery—reptile wings as they flap and glide. This has to be the sound of flying in dreams. The dragonlike creatures vie for sonic dominance with the machinery in the film and particularly with the man-machine tanks that have their own distinctive sounds, especially in the fantasyland of Pandora, where a clash of resounding arms takes place in an atmosphere of no oxygen.

Heffernan understands sound as one of the best avenues filmmakers have for opening up to the representation of the other worldly, especially one deprived of oxygen, which must then stage the breath of life.

It’s intriguing that both “Avatar” and “The Hurt Locker” have built otherworldly environments in which humans are intoxicated—in part by being deprived of oxygen. You can hear this danger much better than you can see it, and it falls to sound editors to exploit its dimensions. What a great challenge in moviemaking: the various sounds of breath—gasping, sighing, speaking, expiring—may be film’s first and most consequential sound effect. Here’s to films that revisit and rethink the sounds of breath and breathlessness.

I would caution against valorizing the breath in this way, however, as it couples rather too easily with the naive authenticity of location sound—Heffernan goes out of the way to inform us that the dialogue for The Hurt Locker "was almost all recorded on location in Jordan (and not looped in a studio)." Surely, like the sound of the breath itself, it is the effective representation of the dialogue—the way its difficult mediation through technology and body is rendered—not the location of its recording that matters.

X-post

Sound Effects and Accompanying with Popular Song

The bulk of this week's Music for the Picture column is taken up with a letter from Veola Thompson reporting on musical practice on the west coast. She confirms that the drummer in Albany, Oregon was indeed very adept at accompanying the pictures. She also has high praise for Sid Grauman's Imperial Theater in Los Angeles. She is distinctly less pleased with the growing use of mechanical instruments (probably Fotoplayers), which she notes saves on labor costs but at the expense of the music. A second letter makes a very peculiar argument for coding film genre by time signature.

Miss VEOLA THOMPSON who is lecturing on features in the Pacific States, contributes the following: “Some weeks ago Mr. ———, from Albany, Oregon, contributed an interesting article on effects as produced in the Peoples Theater, Portland, Oregon. Yes, this particular theater has unquestionably a most capable sound effect drummer. His general knowledge of various musical instruments contribute along with an elegant compressed air outfit. Besides these requirements he has a faculty of knowing when and how to produce an effect.

“With an unprejudiced mind I desire to give due credit to conscientious musical artists, forgetting, if possible, that I am a professional, and in so doing I have closely listened to the offering of Los Angeles, San Francisco and Oakland leaders this winter. In many instances, I am sorry to say, the picture music seems to show indifference and a lack of intelligence; a strong desire to use present-day compositions on plots one hundred years old. Perhaps they wanted to please the masses with popular music. However, I do not believe this method wins in the end. Many houses are confining themselves to the mechanical organ operated by a musician. This style of music is popular in San Francisco and Oakland; one man accomplishes the work of ten and this is “great”—financially. Mr Grauman’s Imperial is truly a palace from an architectural point of view. His par excellent orchestra consisting of piano, organ, violin, ‘cello, flute and drums, reaches the climaxes beautifully and makes the musical changes seemingly without effort or discord. They forget to accompany those “hairy pants” and “broncho” subjects with an asphalt paving effect during the wooly cayuse ride, and what a treat this is.

“A great number of theaters in California seem to feel justified in offering few sound effects. We know the audience loves to talk over the plot; to surmise in words the outcome of the scenario on the screen; to read the “leaders” aloud. Therefore why not permit this harmless habit and play soft music more or less throughout. Do let the people talk and make this possible by softening the drum whenever the situation will permit.” [Why not say, “eliminating” the drums in such situations? That would be better. Ed.] “Whatever progress we make in this field of art, let us endeavor to heed the suggestions of those who think and apply the compositions of the masters on all films of a dramatic and educational nature, for this alone, I believe, will elevate the musical atmosphere surrounding the picture.”

The writer of the above has contributed to this department before. She is a clever musician and character actress, and has been a successful manager. At present she is being featured in her portrayal of “Dante’s Inferno,” “A Day in the Alps,” and educational subjects, and her long experience in different phases of picture work makes her opinions worthy of consideration. Whatever progress made by picture-music is due largely to those who not only “think and apply,” but are willing to share the result of their experience. C. K. Aiken, H. R. Seeman, Maurice Komroff, C. B. Lagerquist, Chas. S. Offenberg, Maude Waters Dittmar and a host of other contributors are among those who “think and apply.”

* * *C. V. E. writes: “Why is it, I would like to ask, that most moving picture pianists will sacrifice the sentiment contained in a picture to a popular air, whether it fits the scene or not? I have played the pictures for over 14 years” [that is a long time. Ed.] “and have only been out of work for one month during that time. I say if a picture calls for Old Hundred, or Yankee Doodle don’t be afraid to play it. Use your brains as well as your fingers and learn to use them both at the same time, the brains a little in advance, in order to get the right affect, you must feel the sentiment and make the audience feel it, dramas should be played to three-four time. Westerns to two-four time, comedies to ragtime, if you like, but the time must fit the action of the picture. In short, build your music as carefully as you would for an opera.”

The writer of the above is evidently sincere, though his letter may appear a little out of focus. I don’t quite get that last, however. Why should dramas “be played to three-four time?” An opera is usually supposed to be dramatic; how can you build your picture music “as carefully as you would an opera” if you confine yourself to three-four time? When our best pictures have special music written for them (as they soon will), this music will, or should be adapted to the action of the picture as it is to the dramatic action in opera, and the composer will use whatever movements, figures or tempi that seem best adapted to the various scenes according to his judgment.

* * *A Kansas City correspondent, who signs no name submits the following suggestions for music to the Kalem release:

“The Wartime Siren.”

1. March. Begin very soft until soldiers are seen, then loud; continue until shooting begins, then:
2. Hurry ff. When shooting stops diminish till change of scene.
3. Bugle call and short hurry.
[NB: “4” is missing]
5. Yankee Doodle until Union forces behind breastworks.
6. Dixie until title: “Colonel Ashley and His Daughter, etc.”
7. “Miama” (Moret.) until she brigs Doctor W. into house.
8. Introduction to “Fra Diavolo” overture. I begun [sic] this after the drum solo and kept repeating softly giving a mysterioso character to the music until title: “Colonel Ashley Attacks the Union Forces.”
9. Short agitato until sick room. Then:
10. Pathetic to swell and diminish according to alternating scenes until battle scene.
11. Hurry until change.
12. Short pathetic until Dr. W. rides away.
13. Hurry until he runs with American flag.
14. Yankee Doodle very spirited until title: “Two Months After Appomattox.”
15. Waltz or novellette [sic] until end of picture.

Send in your name next time, Kansas City.

* * *
Suggestions for accompanying music to:

“A Wise Old Elephant” (Selig).

Part First.

1. “Poppies” (Moret.) once through, then:
2. “In a Lotus Field” (Bratton), until two horsemen ride away from steps.
3. Light agitato until title: “Lieutenant Driscoll is Persistent.”
4. “Reign of the Roses” (Ellis Brooks), or some number with triplets in accompaniment, which can be given an agitato character when scene demands. Play until end of reel.

Part Second.

1. Light mysterious until man falls on porch.
2. Agitato p. and f. until title, “Three Years Later.”
3. “Twilight—A Reverie.” (by N. D. Ayer; pub. by Remick) until “A Wise Old Elephant.”
4. Light agitato (long) until title: “Toddles Forces a Reconciliation.”
5. Tchaikowsky’s “Chant Sans Paroles,” (play rather quickly), until elephant gives cradle to parents.
6. “Teddy Bears Picnic,” until end of reel.

Source: Clarence E. Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 12 April 1913, 169.

Barton Piano Attachment, cont.

This is an ad for Barton Piano Attachment, which appeared in Moving Picture World 15 March 1913, p. 1148. The original Barton Piano Attachment, which was a set of bells that had attached to the piano, had been advertised regularly for much of the first quarter of 1913. This week the attachment was expanded to include xylophone, pipe organ, drums, cymbal, triangle and car horn among others. These attachments appear to be covered under the second and third patents linked to in the post above.

Musical Suggestions; More Discussion of Effects

This week's "Music for the Picture" column covers a variety of topics. Besides, a number of musical suggestions, one correspondent asks for help finding "characteristic" music for orchestra, in particular music that follows the eastern and/or "oriental" style topic. Another correspondent adds to the debate Sinn had initiated on sound effects.

Edgar Ray, Musical director Grand Theater, Newark, Ohio, writes: “I am sending you the program with which I accompanied the two-reel Vitagraph, “The Chains of an Oath.” Used your cues for the “Cowboy Millionaire” with success. Give us some more.”

“The Chains of An Oath” (Vitagraph).Part One.

1. “Joyous Farmer” (Schumann). Repeat once, then segue.
2. “Chants du Voyageur (Paderewski) until Donia enters house.
3. “Sicilian Chimes” (Kerry Mills) until title: “First English Lesson.”
4. “Pearls” (Novelette by Niel Moret) until Donia reads letter.
5. “Farewell to the Piano” (Beethoven) until end of reel.

Part Two.

1. Agitato p. until Svan enters apartment with Donia.
2. “A Summer’s Dream” (By P. Hans Flath) until title: “Svan Decides to Follow.”
3. Short light Hurry until title: “The Land of Bondage.”
4. “Sans La Feuille” (F. Thome) until Gregory appears with knife.
5. Agitato pp. and ff., following action until Gregory turns to leave apartment first time.
6. “Sans La Feuille” until end of reel.

“If entre d’acte is desired, “Romanze” by Schumann will hold the “color” until part two is projected.”

A dignified program which follows the motive of the picture very well. Our constituents will be glad to hear from you again Mr. Ray.

* * *
From the Broadway Theater, Salt Lake City, Utah: “This is the first time I have taken the liberty of communicating with the music section though I have contributed many other articles and suggestions to various departments of the Moving Picture World. We are using first run pictures and of course all your accompanying music and suggestions for the various pictures come too late to be of much assistance to us, though from the program you selected for Reincarnation of Karma, I picked many numbers which we will be able to use in future pictures of this nature.

“In making up a recent order list of orchestra music I found the catalog’s particularly short of Oriental and Eastern music; at least they were hard to select from the titles. Also the Mexican music we have on hand is well worn since the long run of these pictures we have had. I think it would be of great value and assistance to exhibitors and orchestra leaders if you would from time to time publish lists of various classes of music, giving when possible the composers’ and publishers’ names. In our new house we will use an orchestra of ten pieces. Yours, Dean R. Daynes.”

I can appreciate Mr. Daynes’ difficulty in selecting music with nothing to guide him but the titles in the publisher’s catalog. The music suggested in this department is usually accompanied by the name of the composer and frequently the name of the publisher is given, but it would not be expedient to publish lists from their catalogs here. Such advertising would be too valuable to the publishers to give them free gratis. When these gentlemen awaken to the fact that over 16,000 moving picture theaters in this country alone are constantly on the lookout for appropriate music, and that the Moving Picture World is read in every one of them, they will arrange assorted lists of their music and publish them in the advertising pages of this paper. They might be surprised to learn that moving picture musicians desire something else than “rags” and popular songs. In the meantime the suggestions for musical accompaniments will give the composers’ names and occasionally, the publishers; but I am sorry to say, no catalogs or lists.

* * *
From C. H. Snow, Middletown, Del.: “It is doubtlessly seldom that you hear from this part of the country. I want to congratulate you on the excellent work you are doing in the music suggestions in your department, especially your ‘tips on improvising.’ Am working in the opera house here running the cream of licensed pictures and two 2- or 3-reel features per week. Speaking of the art of picture playing in general, it would benefit all photo-pianists to keep in close touch with each other and exchange views and compare their ideas as to the conception of music for the picture.” (That is what this department is for.—Ed.)

“Only recently a friend sent me a good suggestion and since that time I gave a few pointers to another friend because one had done me a good turn and I passed it along.”

Our correspondent has the right idea, but if he will watch the Moving Picture World closely he will find many friends busily engaged in “passing along” their ideas and suggestions. Not so many as I should like to see, perhaps, but compared to the apathy of a few years ago, it is encouraging to observe the number of thoughtful musicians who are willing to share their experience; in proof of this, witness the growing number of “musical suggestions” sent in from various parts of the country and given this page. They are “passing it along.” Some time ago a correspondent sent us a set of rules for the guidance of picture players. One of his maxims was: “go and hear other pianists play the pictures.” This is broadening. It gets you out of the rut and stimulates your ideas. Studying the other fellows “dope-sheet” is of great help too. In both cases you are bound to criticise or approve; if the latter, you may get some new ideas. If you criticise you will naturally try to think how his work might be improved—if it is wrong, where and why it is wrong, and what will make it right. We develop by sharing our ideas and comparing our efforts.

* * *
H. R. Seeman, La Fayette Theater, Saint Louis, Mo., says: “In the issue of the Moving Picture World, March 1st, I notice a letter from Albany, Oregon, in reference to effects from Oregon. If I get him right he thinks a drummer with a first class air-cabinet in the orchestra with the pianist can make the pictures more realistic, and (if I understand him right), is of the opinion that such a combination can accomplish more. Quoting his words, ‘You have got to show me.’

“I grant that the effects are quite essential for making the picture realistic, but I must say that effects and music are two different things, and when a drummer of an orchestra attempts to make all the effects for the picture with his $1800 air cabinet he then and there becomes an effect man, and that orchestra is sadly in need of a drummer that can make effects—I mean effects that are characteristic to the music his leader is playing—and let the effect man take his place behind the screen where he belongs. My idea of a drummer and his traps is to make effects incidental to the music the orchestra is playing. For instance, I am playing this week for the Pathe special release, “Mother”—a western drama, and there is one scene where there is galloping horses and Indian fights. I am playing a good number for this scene entitled “Cowboy Capers” in the drum part of which there is lots of work for cymbals, tom-tom, etc. Is it right for the drummer to sacrifice these effects that are characteristic to the music in order to catch shots, horses hoofs, etc.? In other words, the effect drummer must play his effects according to his picture whereas the orchestra drummer who makes his effects characteristic to the music is helping his leader carry out his contract to play music suited to the picture. I must say again that the drummer who attempts to do both not only sacrifices his work a drummer, but is also doing an injustice to the music. Both good effects and good music are essential, but cannot be worked together in the orchestra pit. The drummer using bells, chimes, xylophone, tympani, etc., is doing more to help the cause of “better music for the picture” than the drummer with his $1800 air cabinet. Yours very truly, H. R. Seeman.”

These gentlemen are evidently looking at the proposition from different angles. Without taking sides one way or the other at present, I wish to point out that the majority [1326] of picture houses employ but one effect man, viz.: the drummer in the orchestra pit. With the larger houses using an orchestra it is often differently arranged, but in the smaller places employing but two or three musicians (usually two—piano and drums), the sound effects incidental to the picture are the most important part of the drummer’s work.

Mr. Seeman kindly encloses his musical program for two pictures.

“Mother” (Pathe).

Part One.

1. Waltz “Blush of the Rose” until title: “Their Boy;” then:
2. Intermezzo “Starland” until he writes home; then:
3. Song “Mother” (from play of that name) until title “Bob Gambles, etc.”
4. Same intermezzo (“Starland”) softening for fireside scene, continuing until mother gets letter. Then waltz (No. 1) until scene out west.
5. March “Local Pride” (fast) until title: “Bob’s Mother Prepares, etc.”
6. Waltz “Asphodel” (Hildreth) until end of reel.

Part Two.

1. At title: “Bob Sells the Stolen Horses” Bright characteristic march “Cowboy Capers” (new—by Allen), until title: “Believing Her Son the Sheriff.”
2. Waltz “Asphodel” until sheriff sends for Bob.
3. Tosti’s “Goodbye” until title: “Their Dreams—and the Reality.”
4. “Mother” song till end.

“A Chance Deception” (Biograph).

1. 16 bars Spanish dance (Bolero) then:
2. “Il Bacio” (The “Kiss Waltz”) until title “Am I Too Old?”
3. “In the Shadows” (Finck) play second part quasi mysterioso at title “His Suspicions Confirmed.” Continue until husband enters house; then:
4. “The Romance of a Rose” (new) 2d movement agitato until title: “Asphadia” then take up “Romance of a Rose” at introduction, play through—then:
5. “Titl’s Serenade” (or any serenade) until finish.

Source: Clarence E. Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 29 March 1913, 1325-26.

Excelsior Sound Effects Cabinet

Here is an ad for a sound effects cabinet that appeared in the 25 January 1913 issue of Moving Picture World. From the image, you can see that the cabinet was operated through a series of knobs and levers, with the sound effect traps hidden within the cabinet itself. The ad also emphasizes the ease with which the cabinet could be operated—implying that it did not require an expert and so could be used to trim labor costs, a most important consideration especially for small exhibitors.

Drummers and Sound Effects, Cont.

In response to a challenge from a reader, Sinn in this column backs off a bit from his criticisms of sound effects he made previously. Uncharacteristically testy in his response, Sinn here admits that sound effects can contribute productively to a show, so long as they are done well. Interestingly, Sinn still fixates on correctly rendering the sound of the horse: "Do you uphold the fellow who imitates a hose 'trotting on asphalt pavement when it is plain the horses are on soft or sandy soil?'"

The second part of the column is given over to musical suggestions, which is becoming a regular feature.

From Albany, Oregon: “In the issue of Jan. 25th, of the Moving Picture World I read your opinion of drummers and their effects for the picture. You seem to regard them as of not much consequence in the making of a picture realistic.

“I have seen photo-plays in the Eastern houses, and the way they are worked—usually with an orchestra; also in the West where they are worked with a picture pianist and a good drummer with an air cabinet costing all the way from three hundred to two thousand dollars.

“Until recently the West was far ahead of the East even in regard to photo-play houses devoted exclusively to pictures. Here in the West the pianist plays to and with the picture, improvising, “faking” and playing from memory. The drummer has a compressed air outfit that makes trains, auto’s, motor boats, in fact here they make any effect in the picture—not loud and blaring but modulated according to the size of the house. In Portland, Oregon, there is one air outfit that I know of owned (as they always are) by the drummer, which is insured for $1800. In this small town there are three houses, two of them using drummers and paying out (both houses for drummers and pianists) about one hundred dollars per week for their music and not working matinees.

“You may not think much of the drummer and his effects, but if you could step into the People’s Theater, Portland (Oregon) and hear one show played and compare it with an orchestra playing pictures I think you would agree with me.

“As for effects not making the picture, you’ve got to show me. I’ve been to Sadalia Missouri and acquired the habit. Thanking you for at least reading this I beg to remain,
Sincerely, A Drummer with an air cabinet.”

Well, I’ve read your letter; now honestly, did you read mine. You say you did, but did you? My comments were upon a letter from a Massachusetts correspondent criticising [sic] some Boston picture houses. You are evidently in favor of using correct sound effects. Are you finding fault with me for opposing those which are “noisy, silly and incorrect?” Do you uphold the fellow who imitates a hose “trotting on asphalt pavement when it is plain the horses are on soft or sandy soil?” I don’t believe you do, else why buy an expensive including and “air cabinet.” I still maintain that, generally speaking, the sound effect man has not advanced in the same ratio with his co-adjutor the picture pianist there are not so many good or even careful players among the drummers as among the pianists. If all the sound effect men in your part of the country are above criticism they are to be congratulated, but in the east and the middle west they are made up of good, bad and indifferent. I repeat “the sound effect idea, with many is practically the same now as it was in its crude beginning.” And so it is.

Speaking of the “air cabinet,” the first compressed air machine as applied to sound effects was invented and perfected by Wm. E. King of Chicago, some seven or eight years ago and has been in use at the Orpheum Theater (Chicago) since that house has been a picture theater. “Billy” King should have patented his ideal it would have brought him as much fame as has his popular “three-in-one” drum and bell rack.

There are a number of theaters in Chicago where the sound effects are rendered in a careful manner. Mr. King and Mr. Provan at the Orpheum have long made this branch a feature of the orchestral accompaniment to their pictures.

There are some pianists who are not yet out of the wilderness. One of them had “The Resurrection” to maltreat, slander and otherwise disfigure. For the two scenes of Russian Dancers he played “Every Body’s Doing It” and “Every body Two-step,” and at the meeting in the prison, “When You Waltz With Me.” Can you beat it?

“THE VENGEANCE OF DURAND” (Vitagraph).(Courtesy W. E. King.)First Reel.

1. Allegretto “In Meadow Land (by Theo. Bendix), until: “Marion’s Foster Father” (when singer seen).
2. A few bars of “The Rosary”; then back to No. 1 until she sits and sings. A few bars of “The Rosary again, then
3. “Lilacs” (by Katheryn Roberts) until: “On the Eve of the Duel.”
4. Plaintive until title: “At the Time Appointed.”
5. Agitato pp. until shot. Stop a few seconds, then:
6. “Walther’s Traumlied” (Wagner) until title: “Training His Child to Carry Out His Revenge.”
7. “The Rosary” until title: “Ten Years Later.”
8. “In the Shadows” (Finck) until end of reel.

Second Reel.

1. ”Roses and Memories “ (Snyder) until scene at piano.
2. “The Rosary” until end of scene: “Here He Comes Now. Don’t Forget Your Promise.”
3. Schubert’s “Erl King” until Carl and Durand meet.
4. “Evening Star” (Wagner) until struggle.
5. Hurry (long) for fire scene until title: “Vengeance Is Mine.”
6. Plaintive until title: “Memories.”
7. “Roses and Memories” until she sits at piano.
8. “The Rosary,” then back to “Roses and Memories” until close.

“THE LORELEI” (Edison).

1. Waltz until page from book is shown.
2. “Die Lorelei” (old German song), then back to waltz until: “A Conquest etc.”
3. “Le Secret” (by Gautier) until title: “Neglected.”
4. “Salut d’Amour” (Elgar) until title: “Song of the Lorelei.”
5. “Die Lorelei” until she stops playing.
6. “Salut d’Amour” again until title: “The Answer.”
7. “Dreams, Just Dreams,” until title: “The Loveliest Maid is Sitting.”
8. “Die Lorelei” until she awakes.
9. “Au Mer” (By the Sea) until close.

“INTERNATIONAL CONSPIRACY” (Gaumont).(Courtesy of Milt. E. Schwarzwald, Bijou Dream Theater.)First Reel.
Neutral all through—Novelettes, etc.

Second Reel.

1. “Pirouette” (by Finck) until title: “When Greek Meets Greek.”
2. “Lion du Bal” (valse) until: “The Plot Thickens.”
3. “Avalon” once through, then “Fire Flies Dance” until: “At Once We Must Act.”
4. Agitato p. and f. until end of reel.

Third Reel.

1. Waltz until spies are seen approaching the house.
2. Mysterious (“sneaky”) until: “The Night Attack.”
3. Agitato pp. until girl signals flag ship. Swell to:
4. Hurry (long number), until battle ship tender arrives at wharf.
5. Presto gallop (for very fast hurry) until they blow up gasoline launch, then:
6. Patriotic French song—“Le Chant du Depart,” or “Partant pour la Syrie” until end of picture.

Clarence E. Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” MPW 1 March 1913: 878.

Barton Piano Attachment

This ad comes from Moving Picture World 4 January 1913. The inventor, Daniel W. Barton, would patent several other attachments for the piano besides the one mentioned in the ad. The patents for the bell attachment and two other devices are given below. Clicking on the images should take you to a copy of the patent.

Patent number: 1050513
Filing date: Oct 25, 1911
Issue date: Jan 14, 1913



Patent number: 1174956
Filing date: Apr 21, 1913
Issue date: Mar 14, 1916



Patent number: 1174957
Filing date: May 7, 1913
Issue date: Mar 14, 1916

Sound Effects and the "Thematic" Treatment

In this column, Sinn first addresses the issue of sound effects. Responding to a complaint about sound effects that are not sufficiently realistic, Sinn somewhat uncharacteristically criticizes more broadly than his correspondent, seeing the problem not just in a lack of fidelity but in their generally undomesticated quality. Nevertheless he also makes the important claim that learning to play sound effects was a first step toward the current practice of playing the pictures, because rather than being indifferent to the picture, as the ragtime piano apparently often was, the effects attempted to find motivation in the picture. Music for the picture, he implies, is a domestication of the old, crude sound effect.

The second part of the column is devoted to the leitmotive, what Sinn here calls the "thematic" treatment. He gives a brief account of the technique and then offers Gaumont's three-reel feature, The Vengeance of Egypt as an example of how the thematic treatment can be applied to a film. Importantly, Sinn does not associate a theme with the ring per se, but rather with its effect of bringing death. In this way, the thematic treatment serves the "dominant idea of the picture," and for Sinn locating and retracing this dominant idea is the main priority of all musical accompaniment.

Here’s that old complaint again, this time from New England: “Dear Sir.—Won’t you please give the exhibitors a jolt? Several Boston picture houses permit their drummers (or some Eastern product) to beat a tumpty-tum as of horses trotting on asphalt pavement—a terrific racket—during the army and Indian pictures, when it is plain the horses are on soft or sandy soil—the dust flying so they can hardly be seen. It’s anything but “Western,” is ridiculously absurd and intensely annoying to the audience. Many people speak of it.—C. D., Dorchester, Mass.”

One would have a right to hope that this sort of thing belonged to the past. Whoever is to blame, but it manager or drummer (and I fear it is usually the latter), he can hardly plead ignorance as an excuse. Noisy, silly and incorrect “sound effects” have been so often criticised by the public, the daily papers and the moving picture trade journals—particular the Moving Picture World—that even the most thoughtless and careless out to know better. I believe “sound effects” had an immense value a few years ago. I think they contributed largely to the awakening of managers and others to the importance of appropriate music for accompanying the picture. Previous to the sound effect period anything in the shape of a ”bally-hoo” was good enough for the musical part of the show; phonographs, mechanical pianos and rag-time “thumpers” amused (?) the easily entertained patron of the moving picture novelty. Then the sound effects were introduced adding a new element of interest. They were generally noisy, crude and misplaced, but the average picture of six or seven years ago was not harmed to an appreciable extent. Even then the better element among the picture patrons resented the incorrect and noisy “effects.” To the best of my knowledge the value of appropriate music began to be advocated at that time by critics, patrons and musicians. Music for the picture has advanced to a much higher plane in the past six years; the “sound effect” idea (with many) is practically the same now as it was in its crude beginning. It must either change for the better or be doomed to oblivion.

Music Programs.
Gaumont’s three-reel feature entitled “The Vengeance of Egypt” gives an opportunity for the “thematic” treatment which occasioned some comment in this page of a couple of years ago. Some musical theme may be chosen to represent the mummy’s ring and its malignant power (as Wagner uses a motif for the Shield, Fire, Sword or other important object), and this theme should be repeated each time the ring changes hands—that is, when it is developed that the ring has found a new victim. This theme should be of a weird, mysterious character; the third movement (doloroso) of Theo. Bendix’s “Hindoo Priest’s Incantation” is offered as a suggestion. If this is used it should be played slowly to end of number if necessary; if not long enough repeat from the same place (3rd movement doloroso). I believe it would be a good idea to use one plaintive also for the death of each victim of the ring; though not really necessary, it would still further carry out the “thematic” form and emphasize the dominant idea of the picture—the vengeance following the ring.

“THE VENGEANCE OF EGYPT” (Gaumont).

1. Marseilles. Begin softly; swell as Napoleon entersl diminish when slaves stoop to raise mummy casket. When casket is upright change to:
2. First part of “Sultan’s Dream” (Bendix) or any Oriental of mysterious character. At title: “Lieut. Berard, Officer of the Guard,” very softly until case is opened. Swell to mf until “The Mummy is Despoiled.”
3. Mysterious until he takes ring from mummy’s finger, then:
4. Theme of ring. I have suggested the third movement of Theo. Bendix’s “Hindoo Priest’s Incantation” for this. It will be referred to as “Theme” whenever it occurs. Repeat until title: “The Home of Charlotte Gartier.”
5. “Daisies” (from Bendix’s Floral Suite) until “A Weird Dream.”
6. “Theme” till vision; then:
7. First part of “Sultan’s Dream,” until vision over.
8. “Theme” again until after newspaper item shown.
9. Plaintive until end of reel.

Part Two.

1. Gavotte until he takes ring from cabinet.
2. “Theme until next title.
3. “Lilies” (or bright light waltz) until: “The Ring’s Second Victim.”
4. “Theme” until burglar enters behind girl.
5. Mysterious till change of scene.
6. Waltz lento (“Devotion”) until title: “The Antiquary Loves to Descend to His Shop.”
7. “Theme” until: “The Ring’s Third Victim.”
8. “Miama” (by Neil Moret) until: “The Ring’s Fourth Victim.”
9. Waltz until man is scene with gun.
10. Mysterious until “The Empty Boat.”
11. Pathetic (some [sic] as end of first reel) until end of reel.

Part Third.

1. Waltz or Novelette until he puts ring on girl’s finger.
2. “Theme” until title; “Paul Is a Daring and Successful Aviator.”
3. Lively Intermezzo till machine starts.
4. “Theme” (faster this time—agitated character) until machine is seen wrecked.
5. Crescendo until title: “From the Fingers Cold in Death.”
6. Pathetic (same as before) until title: “The Journey.”
7. “Passion” (by Hager) until: “Into the Depths of Doom.”
8. Agitato until: “The Fisherman’s Discovery.”
9. “Passion” again until mummy case is opened.
10. First Part of “Sultan’s Dream” until close.

Another fine picture with the atmosphere of ancient Egypt is
“WHEN SOUL MEETS SOUL” (Essanay).

1. “Autumn (by Losey) until letter is shown.
2. “Egyptian Love Dance” pp and crescendo until: “Off to Battle.”
3. Soft agitato until: “The Return From the War.”
4. “Isis” (Witmark). Begin soft and slow through two scenes, then crescendo and quicken to march tempo until they are about to drink at the table.
5. Agitato (soft) until change of scene.
6. “Egyptian Love Dance” until old man awakes.
7. “Heartsease” (by Moret) until close.

Through favor of W. E. King, of the Orpheum Theater, Chicago, I offer the musical accompaniment (as played by his orchestra of
“ROMEO AND JULIET” (Pathe)

1. “A Little Story” (by Zimmerman; pub. by Carl Fischer) until title: “Hopelessly in Love with Romeo.
2. “Reconciliation” (Bendix) until reception scene.
3. Gavotte (Harp effect) until all exit but two.
4. Barcarolle from “Tales of Hoffman,” until they enter church.
5. Religioso until: “Provoked By His Rival.”
6. Soft agitato until he is brought before the duke.
7. Rather slow and solemn. (Could use introduction of “Poet and Peasant.”—Ed.) “Romeo Takes Leave of Juliet.”
8. The Roses Honymoon” (Bratton) until end of reel.

Part Second.

1. “Roses and Memories” (Ted Snyder) until: “Friar Laurence Gives Juliet.”
2. “Melody of Peace” (Carl Fischer) until title: “Romeo Ignorant of the Death of Juliet.”
3. “Pansies” (Witmark) until funeral procession seen coming down steps.
4. Funeral March (Sousa’s “Our Honored Dead”) until Romeo is left alone with bier.
5. “Longing” (Pathetic) from Theo. Bendix suite until close.

Source: Clarence E. Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 25 January 1913, 352.

When Effects Are Unnecessary Noises

This 1911 article by W. Stephen Bush argues for a much more limited use of effects. In fact, Bush's suggestions, especially that effects be used only if they "have a psychological bearing on the situation," is quite similar to recommendations that he and other writers were making for music at the time.

Originally based in Philadelphia, Bush broke into the business as a lecturer and wrote frequently for Moving Picture World especially on the topics of lecturing, music and ways to improve the cultural standing of the entertainment. He has strong ideas about the aesthetic possibilities of cinema, and I have always found him to be one of the most insightful writers of the period. Besides the many essays he contributed to the paper, he wrote many reviews and later became a contributing editor. He left at the end of 1916 to become the founding editor of Exhibitor's Trade Review.

As a friend of the moving picture and jealous of its reputation with the public, I confess I stand in fear of the average "effects man." Zeal is a most admirable quality, but in the case of the man behind the screen it needs to be tempered with judgment and discretion. As a matter of fact, such tempering of enthusiasm with common sense is rare in the extreme. While the general opinion among intelligent exhibitors holds that the effects were made for the picture, the worker behind the screen believes, that the picture was made for the effects. His desire is, above all things, to be heard, to make as much noise as possible. If the picture shows a man in the throes of death on his bed, he rises to the occasion by making the bed creak. If by any chance, a horse appears on the screen he feels in duty bound to make us believe that a troop of cavalry is riding at full gallop over a hundred blocks of macadamized pavement. At the sight of water, no matter how quiet, he at once lets go of the Niagara Falls effect.

Now effects to help the picture must be few, simple and well rehearsed for each separate and particular picture. The idea, that a set of mechanical contrivances for the production of a limited number of sounds, can be made to fit most pictures or even a small percentage of them, is utterly absurd. The moment an effect is repeated too often, it becomes monotonous, then tires one and at last is ridiculous. Each picture must be studied by itself and only such effects introduced as have a psychological bearing on the situation as depicted on the screen. The imitation of common and obvious sounds has long ago been abandoned by nine out of every ten exhibitors, who, quite wisely will rather dispense with effects altogether than risk monotonous or misplaced or ill-judged effects.

Nevertheless, it is an undoubted fact, that the introduction of suitable effects will at times help a picture immensely. There are scores of pictures that without effects are dull, insipid and meaningless and with effects, thrill, delight and please an audience. Powerful effects may be introduced with equal success in comic or dramatic pictures, even in scenic and educational subjects. At all times, effects must be original, novel, simple, quickly understood and appreciated by the audience. The proper moment for introducing them must be judged from picture to picture and no set of stereotyped rules can be laid down. The dramatic instinct, which resides in the heart of every man and woman, must be the guide and determining factor.

When once a good opportunity for a powerful effect has been discovered, the effect must be carefully rehearsed. A trained monkey can “work” the machine-made effects, but it takes a man with some intelligence to secure correctness and accuracy in original and special effects.

A few examples may help to make my meaning clearer. Let us assume, that we are dealing with a scene immediately preceding a dramatic climax. The climax depends on the coming of a certain hour. Anxiety and suspense are the dominant emotions of the central figure in the scene. At such a moment the slow and measured ticking of a clock may send a thrill or a shudder through the blood of the spectator. It is a very simple thing, an apparent trifle and yet its effect may be overpowering. The sound of musical instruments, played with a special meaning, connected with the action on the screen, may always be imitated with great advantage.

On occasions the fall of a human body or a heavy object may be indicated by proper effects back of the screen, but not every such fall is to be thus marked. Discrimination should be the saving grace of the man with the effects and if he lacks discrimination, as he often does, he should be held strictly subject to orders and given no latitude whatever. Obvious effects, such as shooting, thunder, rain, etc., are, except on rare occasions, to be omitted. The public is tired of them.

Greater license may be given to effects in comic reels, but the vulgarity, which is especially in vogue in New York, should be carefully avoided.

I conclude with a notable contrast between a proper and improper effect and select as an example two scenes from the Milano production of Dante’s Inferno. No scene in that remarkable film is more impressive than the meeting of Cerberus, the three-throated monster by the poets, Dante and Virgil. “Not a limb of him, but trembled,” say Dante in his masterfully descriptive way. Now, to make this mysterious monster bark like a dog in a backyard is laughable and betrays a deplorable lack of the sense of the fitting. The moment the “effects man” converts the fear-inspiring creation of Dante into a common bow-wow, every illusion is destroyed and the thin line, dividing the sublime from the ridiculous is crossed amidst the justly derisive laughter of the audience. Contrast this with an effect in the scene, where the poets enter the circle of the giants, the first of whom is Nimrod, the mighty hunter. In the poem, the sound of a horn is described, as the poets near the circle. If such an effect is introduced, if a horn is sounded, just before the title, introducing the giants is ended, the effect is suitable and impressive, as in the next moment the huge body of Nimrod with a hunting horn around his waist, becomes visible.

There is but one general rule that may be followed with uniform advantage in the matter of effects.

To paraphrase the immortal bard: “Discrimination is the best part of strenuousness.”

Source: W. Stephen Bush, “When ‘Effects’ Are Unnecessary Noises,” Moving Picture World 9 September 1911, 690.

The Successful Exhibitor

If reports in the trade papers are any indication, the spring of 1908 was a tough season for the motion picture business. The initial craze of the nickelodeon was wearing off, more theaters were closing than opening, and exhibitors were looking for ways to retain if not increase their patronage. One issue was the lack of sufficient film titles—theaters on the same block often ended up with the same film on the bill. This situation forced exhibitors to look at their whole show in order to make it as attractive as possible.

In this editorial, Moving Picture World advocates in favor of adding sound effects, talking pictures (actors saying lines behind the screen), and a"lecturette" to the program.

Among the news of the week we gather that several shows throughout the country have been compelled to close on account of lack of patronage. In some cases competition is given as the reason, especially where the peculiarities of the service or bad management accounts for similar subjects being shown during one week in two theatres on the same block. Certain managers have complained that there is not sufficient variety in the film subjects or not enough snap in them to hold the interest of the people. We do not agree with this explanation and are still inclined to the belief that incompetent management, bad judgment in choice of location, or poor taste in the selection of subjects are the only reasons why any theatre should be compelled to close.

We have taken the time to visit many theatres in this and other cities so as to be able to form a just opinion of the situation, and, if possible, offer some suggestions to exhibitors. We find that public demand for this class of entertainment is on the increase, rather than on the wane, but the public will not continue paying its money to be fooled. The manager who puts on the best show will draw the crowd, of course; but, to hold their patronage, he must use his own brain as well. It is not enough to rent a few reels of film each week and leave his place in the hands of a ticket-taker, operator and usher and come around occasionally himself to carry away the receipts. He must plan and execute. The successful show manager is always on the lookout for new ideas and schemes that will attract and please the public. Many have taken up this business thinking that it is an automatic coin-getting project which does not require attention. Those are the ones that fail.

“Props” as a Feature

In several theatres we have noted that the intelligent use of “props” materially adds to the attraction of a poor film subject, while there are none, however good, that can not be made more attractive by the “man behind the screen.” It is only necessary to mention the large and appreciative audiences such men as Lyman H. Howe draws, to substantiate this. His success is largely due to his well trained assistants who render the dialogue behind the screen, but no less so to the fact that his large experience has taught him what kind of pictures the public cares to see.

Pictures that Talk

When the Park Theatre, in Brooklyn, was given over to motion pictures a few weeks ago, the management wisely decided on this added feature, and, to their credit, we must say that the effect is well carried out. It is a common remark among the audience that “it is as good as a real play.” The dialogue helps the less intelligent to fully understand the plot, for, no matter how skilfully worked out, there are always passages which require something more than mere pantomime to fully explain the situation.

Satisfy your patrons and they will come again. Make them feel that you are giving thme the best show you know how and that you hope to see them often. There is one theatre on a busy thoroughfare in this city where we frequently go just to see how poor a show can be put on. Here, of course, the proprietor depends upon transient trade which he gets by the aid of a leather-lunged barker and a phonograph which grinds out the same old song without intermission. The pictures are as unsteady as a defective machine can make them, and the rate at which the films are run makes the movements of the actors ridiculous. It is this kind of places that fail and, moreover, they do more than anything else to make the public lose interest in this class of entertainment.
This is an age of education. There are no doubt intelligent people among your audiences and they want to be educated as well as amused. The show which leaves the best impression, that will make the patron feel that his time has not been wated is the one which runs an educational subject at each show. Not all comedy—and, very rarely, tragedy.

This leads us to the feature of

The Illustrated Lecture

Lecturettes, or “travelogues” as they are sometimes called, given between the reels, are now a feature in many successful theatres. Keith’s theatres often announce them as headliners, and what Keith adopts is a safe rule for less experienced managers to follow. At Keith’s 14th Street theatre, the other evening, we were only able to get a box seat. Every other seat in the house was filled and standing room besides. The lecture subject was “China.” It was brief and to the point, well illustrated by some very interesting slides and received the applause of the audience. This, with two reels and a song (by a good singer) illustrated by the original slides of a good maker was a program well calculated to bring the same people back on another evening.
For nickel theatres, where the management cannot afford a two-reel show, the “travelogue” feature recommends itself. Sets of slides, with brief lectures, are no obtainable on rental and at very low rates. The services of a lecturer or reader may be beyond the means of some, but it is a poor ensemble if there is not some attache of the show that is qualified to intelligently read the lecture while the slides are shown. In college towns, it should be easy to get some student who is working his way through college, who would be glad of the opportunity to earn an honest dollar and at the same time exercise his elocutionary powers.

Managers and proprietors, you who complain of waning patronage, get wise to the situation. Adopt such simple methods as the above to make the public feel that taking their money is not your sole aim. Do not tell us that you have to close because the public is losing interest in motion picture shows, for we will not believe you.

Source: “Editorial: The Successful Exhibitor,” Moving Picture World 16 May 1908, 431.

Traps and Effects

In this weeks column, Martin addresses the drummer and sound effects, with special attention to those effects that a small exhibitor would most likely need. Near the end of the article, he presents a couple of pieces of advice for the pianist: play throughout the showing of the picture and be sure to have exit music playing at the end of the show until the last person leaves the theater.

Since I have been conducting my article's in The Index I have received many letters from musicians asking suggestions for appropriate music for certain releases that have been booked in their theatres for some future date. It is very gratifying indeed to know that the musicians" in the better class of theatres are looking after the details of the picture music and bettering their own conditions,' as well as the conditions of the theatres.

I will be glad to receive suggestions at any time from picture musicians, and at any time I can be of service and give advice on appropriate music for any certain release I will do so either by letter or through the columns of the Index.

Last week I received an inquiry, from a Western exhibitor asking for a list of the most important traps and effects to be used by the drummer and behind the screen. From the tone of the letter I was led to believe the exhibitor was located in a small town with a limited number of amusement seekers to draw from, but was willing to take a chance at educating more picture fans by improving his show as much as his income would allow. I believe there are many more of the smaller exhibitors that are willing to spend a little money on effects, and for their special benefit publish the list I believe to be complete for the small town show.

On the drummer's rack I would advise, as the most essential effects,

Sand Blocks
Castanets
Crash Cymbal
Wood Block
Tom Tom
Triangles
Tambourine
Telephone
Electric Door Bell

The balance of the effects should be handled from behind the screen, and you should make it a point to have a competent person in charge of the concealed effects, as the least mistake on the part of your effect man may ruin a scene or possibly a whole picture. The most important line of effects to be used behind the screen consists of

Baby Cry
Rooster Crow
Hen Cackle
Mocking Bird Whistle
Steamboat Whistle
Sleigh Bells
Tugboat Whistle
Locomotive Whistle
Horse Hoof Imitation
Train Imitation
Midway Musette
Dog Bark
Chimes
Gongs
Cow Bawl
Revolver
Wind Machine
Auto Horn
Thunder Sheet

It is seldom that you will find use for some of these effects, but it is well to have them on hand. Take, for instance, such a picture as “The Legacy," that clever production, by the Vitagraph Company; just think what a help your tug and steamboat whistles would be to the scene where the old couple is shown on the ferry, crossing over to the New York side. The reason I mention this picture in particular, the first matinee this picture was run in our theatre, the effect man was on the job, but the only thing he had was one tug and one steamboat whistle, and the Hudson River was a very tame affair that afternoon. But after the matinee I searched the town over and scared up fifteen or twenty good whistles. That night everyone around the theatre with a good pair of lungs was on the job, and when the ferry scene came on, well, we nearly made the Hudson backwater to Albany. And the best part of it was the scene got a big hand and the picture caused so much comment the management kept the picture on and featured it for four days, matinee and night. This is what convinces me that the audience wants effects.

By the way, did you use a phonograph on the effect list when you run the Edison release of October 11? There was another chance for an inexpensive effect to make the hit of the show. Give them something different whenever you get the chance, and you will soon have them talking about your show, and when you get them talking you can get their loose change.

Another impressive effect that can be worked by the drummer is a roll on the crash cymbal. Don't run a good thing in the ground, but wait until you get such a picture as the Pathe release of Saturday, October 8, "An Indian's Gratitude," and in the scene where the Indian turns and falls over the 250-foot cliff you can make your audience stand up if you will give a roll on the crash cymbal. Don't work this on every little
fall; wait for a novelty like this Pathe picture and then you will take the audience by surprise.

The use of a thunder sheet is very seldom called for, unless you use it in such a picture as the Vitagraph release of November 19, "Francesca Da Rimini." Through the last scenes of the picture, during the approaching storm, try and work the effect of distant thunder, and then, when the cripple raises his dagger to kill, work up the scene with loud thunder from behind the screen, a roll on the crash cymbal is the drummer's end of the work; then, when the bolt of lightning strikes the lovers dead, muffle the vibration of the cymbal and thunder sheet so that the second they fall to the floor the house is quiet, and let the piano music fade away with the light on the picture. By handling the climax in this way It will be In keeping with the conception the producer hag portrayed.

A musician should never stop playing through the showing of a picture. This is a great mistake that you will frequently find in the big houses as well as the small ones. This is one reason why I say there is no orchestra that can play the picture properly, for the simple reason, the music of an orchestra is limited, and they are obliged to stop at times in the middle of a picture and wait their chance to go ahead.

This point was illustrated to me while on a short trip to Chicago. I happened to stroll into one of the largest picture houses in that city and I believe, there was a Biograph on the screen. When I entered I was surprised not to hear music. By the time I was seated I had come to the conclusion the orchestra was either eating their lunch in the pit or had sent a representative to the box office with a request for more money. I had still another surprise coming, for, at the finish of the picture every one in the orchestra sat up, took notice, and, as the last ten feet of the film passed through machine they struck a chord and went into the introduction of the illustrated song. I went from there to a five-cent picture house just a round the corner and found the same picture on the program that I had just seen at the larger house. The music at the five-cent house consisted of piano and drums, and when this same picture was thrown on the screen you would have been surprised to hear what that piano player made out of the picture. It is the same old story every place you go an orchestra either plays long andantes and waltzes, or they sit and watch the picture.

Another thing that should be remembered by the musicians: Don't cut your chaser short. If it is the last show for the evening play until nearly every one is out of the house. By doing this you send them away in good spirits. If you are running illustrated songs or a spotlight song in connection with the pictures, and you have a song that has made a hit with the crowd it is a very good idea to play the chorus over for a chaser. I figure if I can play a chaser that will have the audience humming as they leave the theatre I have won a good point. In my next article I will show how it is possible to advertise a picture in such a way as to help the musicians in their work.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 10 December 1910, 5.

Drums and Traps

Today we will take a break from the music columns. Instead, we have a reasonably long article by H. F. Hoffman on the role of drumming in the picture house. Though a drummer himself, Hoffman is somewhat ambivalent about how the art is being practiced in movie theaters. (This ambivalence would come out even more forcefully in the illustrations he drew to accompany Louis Reeves Harrison's "Jackass Music".)

Hoffman understands the role of drumming in general and sound effects in particular as serving the needs of the story. This has an important ramification: sound effects, he thinks, should be chosen to illustrate the main point of the story rather than on the basis of the fidelity to the image. This will become the classical paradigm that determines the practice even in sound film: clarity of the storytelling trumps fidelity to the scene depicted. In particular, Hoffman makes this statement:

It is almost funny to observe the diligence with which some prop-workers watch a horse when he comes into the picture. Every step is caught with a keenness that soon attracts the attention of the audience to the horse’s feet and way from the actors. The lover may be pleading with the Squire’s daughter to elope with him, during which the horse is grazing in the background, but nevertheless every step that horse takes must be faithfully recorded by the loud pop of a cocoanut shell, without regard whether the horse be walking on ground, gravel or granite.

Although the criticism ends with a charge of infidelity (the indifference to the surface on which the horse is walking), the main thrust of the Hoffman's remarks in this passage has to do with the way synchronizing the hoof sound draws attention to the horse, which is incidental to the story, and away from the discussion between the lovers, which should be central. In that respect, Hoffman is pointing out that, all things being equal, the appearance of synchronization has the effect of marking whatever is synchronized for foreground attention. This will prove to be an important principle for musical accompaniment as well.

"Drums and Traps"

I’m going to take a fall out of the man behind the drum to-day. Some weeks ago I took a fall out of the operators and they have never forgiven me. I do not despise the operator, because I have been one myself and know the ups and downs of it. Neither do I despise the trap drummer, because I am one myself. It was the drums that gave me my start in the amusement world, and it is to them, directly or indirectly, that I owe many fond memories and some knowledge of the world, both at home and beyond the seas. There is nothing I love better than to sit in a big band and go through a heavy overture, but I always seemed to be able to make more money doing something else.

The advent of the moving picture theater brought the services of tympanists into very sudden demand. The demand was greater than the supply, and consequently, to full up the gaps, many raw recruits were pressed into service. Most of them served their purpose by making a noise of some kind, and it is barely possible that among the lot there may be a certain percentage who will in time become first class performers. Therefore, in case this article is scanned by the old-time drummer, whatever I may have to say of an instructive nature is put down for the benefit of this new crop of tympanists and not to demonstrate any superior wisdom to the oldsters, although some of these, too, have their faults which may be mentioned therein.

There are two general classes of drumming; the regimental, or military, and the professional, or band and orchestra. For the purposes of this article we may as well dismiss the regimental in a few words. While it is the lower of the two classes of drumming, it is the best training school for future professionals that I know of, so far as technical skill is concerned. It does not make a musician of a man, but it teaches him how to handle his sticks. It teaches him the various beats and rolls, from the five to the eleven stroke, and other tricks that a man who considers himself a full-fledge should know, but at the same time a regimental course is not absolutely necessary. The close roll is the easiest to master and if you get that down fine you have your start for indoor work.

In drumming, as in every craft, there is a right and wrong way. It varies from the laborious thump to the skillful and sympathetic touch of the artist; the difference between the employment of mere muscle and brains. The drummer who executes well but does not know his notes is almost sure to be a thumper, or “athletic drummer,” as the wise ones say. The kind who imagines that the audience came to hear him and him only. His object is to drown the piano player and prove his worth by the amount of noise he can make and he always succeeds. Later, when he learns his notes, his noisy fault is apt to abide with him, and that is why we have so many irritating men behind the drums at moving picture houses. This is particularly true when he comes to playing the bells. On more than one occasion, in some of the biggest and best houses, I have listened to the most ear-splitting hammering on bells, ranking second in noise only to the circus calliope.

All this noise is unnecessary. The drummer must learn that he is only a subordinate item and should keep his proper place. The singer who yells his lungs out and the cornet player who blows his head off are much scarcer than the drummer who drowns out the pianist. The skillful man with the delicate touch can put life into a show that the other man would kill. The real drummer knows that a drum tap carries very far and he does not overdo it. If you watch him you will notice that his elbows never move; he can play for hours with nothing but the motion of his wrists, and his clean, even roll is like the patter of raindrops on a tin roof. He also knows the value of accent and is always playing with light and shade; short crescendos are his stock in trade and occasionally he gives his bass drum a moment’s rest instead of pounding straight through like a machine from start to finish.

When the finished player handles his bells he gets the sweetness out of them by his lightness of touch, and if he can keep the sound down to the tinkle of a music box the effect with the piano is very pretty. In like manner he handles his triangle, clogs, castanet, tambourine and all minor accessories, which are very musical if they are kept down below the battering point.

Sound effects come in for some of the most stupid handling of all, both by professionals and novices. The most abused of any is the horse-hoof imitation. It is almost funny to observe the diligence with which some prop-workers watch a horse when he comes into the picture. Every step is caught with a keenness that soon attracts the attention of the audience to the horse’s feet and way from the actors. The lover may be pleading with the Squire’s daughter to elope with him, during which the horse is grazing in the background, but nevertheless every step that horse takes must be faithfully recorded by the loud pop of a cocoanut shell, without regard whether the horse be walking on ground, gravel or granite.

[185] Without judgment in the use of sound effects they are worse than none at all. Where a sound will have a direct bearing and effect upon something that is happening in a picture, such as the ringing of a door bell, the shot of a gun, wind in a storm, etc., then by all means come in with it strong, but on the other hand, when you see a calf in the background of a pretty farm scene don’t detract from the acting by jangling a cow bell when it has no bearing on the picture. If your bass wants it, muffle it inside a box and you will get the right effect. The horse-hoof his all right for a run-away or exciting gallop, such as a fire apparatus in motion, but don’t overdo it. If you stop to think, a man walking on a pavement makes nearly as much noise as a horse and you do not think it necessary to imitate him at all.

I was lecturing once at a large theater that held a thousand people on the ground floor and it required some vocal effort on my part. Behind the screen they had a prop-worker who felt the importance of his position, very much to my discomfort. He never missed a horse’s step; every time a door closed he would rap on a box; the waiter’s tip always jingled on the table; the chickens out-cackled me; the cows “mooed” me into silence, and I was lost in the ocean’s roar. I said nothing to him because he was peevish and very jealous of his play-things. One evening we had the interior scene of a peasant’s cottage, and a painful parting between two lovers was taking place. All at once a bird began to sing with great violence. I looked at the piano player in wonderment and found him looking the same at me. “What’s that for,” he asked. “You’ve got me,” I replied, “I’ll go and see.” I found my friend with his cheeks and his eyes bulging out, blowing for his very life. “What’s the trouble?” says I. “The bird! The bird!” says he, without removing the whistle. “Where?” says I. “There!” says he, pointing triumphantly with a stick to a diminutive canary in a tiny wooden cage on a top shelf at the far corner of the room. “Good boy!” I cried, giving him a wallop on the back that made him almost swallow his blooming whistle.

If you err in sound effects it is better to err on the side of silence. Do not pay so much attention to trivial things just because they happen to be in the picture. Get in with the sound that ought to be there and play good drums for the rest. Furthermore, I notice that while many drummers imitate objects and animals very commendably, they seldom think of imitating a man. Whether they are afraid of the sound of their own voices or not, I cannot say, but there are many cases where a shout, a laugh, a command or a sneeze could be put in with the voice that are not taken advantage of at all.

In every craft the workman should have the best of tools and take the best care of them, but it seems to be the fate of drums, especially bass drums, to be at upon, rained upon, worked upon, generally abused and left to shift for themselves. Some of the drums I have been listening to at picture houses could be replaced by butter tubs and the audience would never know the difference. You may have noticed that musicians on all other instruments take special care of them and are ofttimes inclined to brag a little about the rarity of their particular one, which means that they have tried a good many before they were entirely satisfied that they had selected the best one that could be had. This is particularly true of violinist who guard their violins with jealous care and seldom trust them to other hands than their own for any reason whatever. Drummers are not usually so particular in this respect but the fact remains nonetheless, that the best results cannot be obtained with poor drums. It is not so much a matter of cost as in the constant trying out of different ones until the rare one is found. There is not one drum in twenty that is worth owning.

Bass drums in particular almost always escape proper selection, being often ordered by mail to be of a certain height and depth in inches, instead of being personally tested for the deep toned vibration which carries that resonant musical boom to the farthest corners of the auditorium, no matter how lightly tapped. Needless to say, that the bigger the bass drum the better.

There is a wide different of opinion as to the relative merits of single and double headed drums, among professionals, but in the last analysis I believe that it all depends upon the many who uses them. The two headed drum has a softer and more musical quality and is much the easier to play upon. The single headed drum is harsh and you have to change your style to get anything out of them. There is very little bounce to them and therefore to get a rebound it is necessary to strike hard, and in striking hard to much noise is made, so it really require muscular control and more skill to get music out of them than from the two headed kind, but they are fairly satisfactory when one gets used to them. The single headed bass drum is an atrocious failure. In the single headed tenor drum the vibration is small, but in the bass drum it is practically nil. One may as well have a barrel hoop with a skin stretched across, for al the sound you will get from either will be a dull, sickening thud.

By his cymbal you will know the drummer. After going the rounds and hearing the miserable chinkety-chink of the $1.50 brass cymbal it is a pleasure to come across a man who uses the real Turkish. The Turkish cymbal quivers and shivers for a full minute after being struck. It sings like a human voice and its song carries with a musical sweetness to the farthest corner. One of these coupled to a deep, full toned bass drum means a quality of tone that cannot be surpassed. One 12-inch Turkish cymbal will cost you in the neighborhood of $10, but you have my word for it that once you buy one you will cast away your brass or German silver, and love the song of the Turkish.

Pedals. There are many varieties, the principal fault of the majority being lost action. Nearly all of the knuckle joint pedals have this fault. One of the most reliable pedals is the old-time top rigging. There is no lost action to it and it answers the lightest touch of the toe with the most delicate response. On account of its bulk it is not used as much as formerly, but many old-timers still cling to it. A drummer must know his pedal as a mother does her child. There are no two in the world alike and it is difficult to get used to another man’s apparatus. The principal sin in the use of the pedal is that of smothering the drum and cymbal. As with the piano key, the reaction should be instantaneous so as to give them a chance to vibrate. The moment your beater strikes the drum and cymbal get it out of the way and let them sing, otherwise you get the same old chink-chink-chink that is the sure sign of a careless drummer.

Source: H. F. Hoffman, “Drums and Traps,” Moving Picture World 23 July 1910, 184-85.

Deagan Bells

J. C. Deagan was a frequent advertiser in the early trade papers. This small ad appeared in the Film Index.



Source: Film Index 10 December 1910, 27.

Drummers and Illustrated Songs in the Moving Picture Theater

Martin's column this week features a new header, which includes a picture—though the microfilm did not allow me to reproduce it very well. His topic this week is the role of the drummer. Martin believes that the drummer belong in picture houses but thinks that most drummers are not properly trained. He draws attention to the work of Lyman H. Howe, especially his use of music and sound effects, which allows Howe to charge $1 a seat for his traveling show. (For a fine book-length treatment of Howe, see Charles Musser in collaboration with Carol Nelson, High-Class Moving Pictures: Lyman H. Howe and the Forgotten Era of Traveling Exhibition, 1880-1920 (Princeton, 1991).) Martin also makes the surprising remark that "piano and drums are the only instruments that can be used in playing pictures, when you add other instruments you cannot expect your musicians to make good playing pictures." Martin is lead to this position because he believes that improvisation is the only reliable way to successfully play the pictures and that group improvisation is prone to disaster. He concludes his article with a largely negative assessment of the illustrated song.

The average drummer in a picture theatre is the greatest handicap a piano player has to contend with. A good drummer, one who knows how and when to play, is a necessity in every well regulated picture house, but, they are hard to find. The average drummer wants to make himself heard from the overture to the chaser, and, as a rule they are very partial to marches, and play so loud that in a short time the piano player gets the habit of following the drummer instead of leading, and the result is, the audience is treated to a big noise from the beginning to the close of the picture, and, upon leaving the theatre, the audience would not speak a good word for the best picture ever produced after being compelled to sit and listen to such music.

You have, no doubt been in just such places, where the music has grated on your nerves to such an extent that you could not get interested in the pictures, and when the good night slide was thrown on the there was such a sigh of relief from the entire audience. Don’t blame the piano player because the drummer is no musician, it is not the piano player’s fault. Drumming looks very easy, and, nine times out of ten the manager, and, being not overly fond of work, they have bought him some second hand drums and given him a job in the picture house to keep him off the streets at night, consequently, the piano player an the patrons are made to suffer. [This is how the original reads—jwb.]

It is just as essential that an exhibitor secures a professional drummer as well as a professional piano player. He can hire the greatest piano player in the world to play the pictures and give him an amateur drummer to work with and his music will be a failure.

The professional drummer who has the least conception of playing the pictures, will never try to play through a pathetic scene or during the showing of the average dramatic subject unless he gives a roll during some good point in the picture or at the climax. When I say a roll, I do not mean a role on the snare, if the picture is a strong dramatic subject and the piano player has held the audience quiet up to the strongest point or the climax, how much more in keeping with the picture it is for the drummer to give a roll on the base [sic] drum, if he does not possess kettle drums.

I am a great believer in traps and effects if they are properly handled, and I can point to no better example than Lyman H. Howe. If the exhibitors would pay more attention to their music and effects they too would be receiving a dollar a ticket instead of five and ten cents. Lyman H. Howe is recognized as the greatest motion picture man in the field to-day. He can take the same pictures that you are showing for five cents and demand a dollar a seat for the same show. There is something behind this that would be worth while for the exhibitor to look into and consider. Lyman Howe has always made the music and effects a feature of his entertainment, and it is this point that has placed him as leader in the picture business. And still the exhibitor will give souvenirs, put on cheap vaudeville and pull off voting contests to boost business instead of considering the music. They put themselves in a rut at the opening of the house by engaging a ten-dollar piano player and an eight-dollar drummer.

Piano and drums are the only instruments that can be used in playing pictures, when you add other instruments you cannot expect your musicians to make good playing pictures. I have seen the greatest bunch of fakirs [i.e., “fakers”—jwb] in the country assembled for a picture orchestra, and the result was a failure.

There are certain pictures where a violin can be used in a pathetic scene to good advantage, but no matter how good the violinist is, they cannot change with a piano in playing pictures.

At Dodge’s theatre, Keokuk, Iowa, where I am working at present, we have a violinist, one of the best in the business, and I can safely say we do not use him in more than two pictures a week. If you are showing such a picture as Edison’s “The Song That Reached His Heart,” a violinist can use “Annie Laurie” in certain parts of the picture to good advantage.

Then for example take such a picture as the Biograph release of October 24th, “The Message of the Violin,” the violin is a necessity and the picture is not complete without one. If you have no violinist on your pay roll when you show such a picture as “The Message of the Violin” don’t be afraid of spending a little money, and, engage one for the night you show the picture, you will soon notice and increase in your receipts.

There is another thing to be considered. A drummer cannot be expected to handle the entire line of effects, it is the drummer’s business to handle chimes, tom toms, tambourines, castinets, wood blocks, cymbols [sic], bells and his drums. If you wish to add railroad imitations, slap sticks, etc., they should be worked from behind the screen.

The illustrated song is, as a matter of fact, looked upon as part of the music in the picture show, and I believe it is one of the greatest drawbacks in the business to-day. The singer, as a rule, is paid on the same basis as the piano player, and what kind of a singer can you get for ten dollars a week? The singer in most places is used as a sort of fill in, and in most cases the audience would rather have a white sheet instead of the song during the changing of the reels. Then there is another side to the illustrated song question. It may be you have a very good singer, but the smut that some of the publishers are putting in their songs to make them go, is enough to drive the better class of people from your house forever. Let us say for example you have a three-reel program made up of “The Tree Friends,” Gaumont, “The Broken Doll,” Biograph, and “The Legacy,” Vitagraph, a program that would please the Saints. Then say that you have a very select audience, people who have been skeptic towards motion pictures, you have induced them to come to your theatre as you have this excellent bill on, and then your singer gets up and hands them such stuff as “The Dance of the Grizzly Bear,” “Naughty Eyes” or “The Angle Worm Wiggle.” What kind of impression do you think your audience will have on your show? You will not only lose those people as patrons, but you have lowered the efforts of the producers in trying to better the picture business.

You may say I am getting away from my story when I mention the illustrated song, but I am not, for, that disgusted audience has left the theatre condemning everything on the inside, even the pictures and the piano player.

In my next article, I will suggest some appropriate music for recent releases of feature films.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 5 November 1910, 6.