Illustrating Song Slides

This article on the illustrated song appeared in the inaugural issue of Moving Picture World. It was written by Charles K. Harris, composer of the mega-hit "After the Ball," which sold more than 5 million copies in sheet music, which long set the standard for sheet music sales. In this article, Harris addresses the production of song slides from the standpoint of a music publisher.

The art of illustrating songs with the stereopticon is now one of the features at all vaudeville performances; in fact, it has become one of the standard attractions. To illustrate a song properly often entails a large expenditure of money. The most beautiful illustrated song pictures are those having natural backgrounds. It is not always possible to secure such pictures, and backgrounds have to be painted and prepared with scenic effects. After all the arrangements for the scenery have been made, there comes the hardest and most perplexing part of illustrating a song—procuring the subjects to pose in the pictures. They are generally secured by advertising, and often several hundred applicants will be turned away before suitable models are secured. If the song calls for a beautiful child with golden hair, 95 per cent. of the applicants (brought always by their parents) will be black-haired, freckle-faced, snub-nosed youngsters. The same rule applies to adults. In every case, however, where the work is well done, beautiful children, pretty women and handsome men must be secured for some songs, while old men and women, representing types from the beggar to the millionaire, must be found for others. Everything, whether pathetic, sad or comical, must seem real and perfectly natural. Interiors must also be furnished for the occasion, special costumes must either be made or hired, and often the models must be taken long distances to secure harmonious surroundings. All these things cost large amounts of money and often before the negatives for from fifteen to twenty-five slides have been secured the expense has amounted up to hundreds of dollars. In the case where large numbers of negroes posed in a cakewalk for a new song which I have illustrated, entitled "Linda, Can't You Love Your Joe," it was necessary to send photographers as far as Alabama and Tennessee, there to remain until the real Southern negro was rounded up and asked to pose for a picture:. At least sixty subjects were used in this one set, and their services cost money. The cost of this set of slides has exceeded one thousand dollars. This gives an idea what it costs to illustrate a song properly.

Often the most expert of song illustrators sometimes fall into error and incorporate ridiculous incongruities in their pictures. I have noticed a certain song, by a well-known publisher in this city, where he has a wedding party dressed in costumes of the eighteenth century issuing from a church of the very latest packing-box style of architecture, yet if he had taken the exterior scene of the church four or five away from where he took the photograph, he would have found an old Dutch church whose picturesque exterior would have been in absolute harmony with its subjects. There are many song illustrators who do not take the trouble to make their pictures harmonize with the sentiment of the songs. They never go to the trouble or expense of posing a song; most of them, in fact, know little about the art of photography. They illustrate their songs by passing off upon the public a hodge-podge of old engravings which they have picked up in the old print shops and picture stores. A great many of these song illustrators are found mostly in this city, and Philadelphia also has its share. Some of these cheap slide-makers are pirates in a small way. As soon as some reputable slide-maker brings out a new set of song slides they manage to secure a set, and after washing the paint from the picture until the slide is left plain, they proceed, at the cost of a few cents, to copy by the “contact process” the work which has cost hundreds of dollars. They then proceed to flood the market with wretched imitations of the original slides at less than one-half the price. Even copyrights on pictures do not deter them from stealing, as they have nothing to lose and to prosecute them under the present copyright aw would only be throwing money away. But the new copyright law changes all that and makes it a misdemeanor for any print or picture containing the word “copyrighted” to be used by any person or persons whatsoever without the consent of the owner of the copyright.

Singers as well as managers are now alive to the fact that a poor set of slides will do them more harm than good and managers of theaters are quick to recognize a first-class set of slides, as they must cater to ladies and children, and it is to their interest to see that their patrons get the best the market affords.

My new song entitled “The Best Thing in Life” (which is being illustrated by A. L. Simpson of this city) will revolutionize the slide industry. This set contains twenty-eight slides; in fact, is a drama in three acts. The song takes you from a club room crowded with club members in full evening dress, to Broadway, Fifth avenue, Madison Square, and to the principal points of interest in the city of New York. It was also necessary to secure a snowstorm scene for this set of slides, which was taken at night several weeks ago, corner of Forty-second street and Broadway, during the great snowstorm, and is an exact reproduction of same, which will no doubt create a sensation when thrown upon a canvas. At the present time I have a staff of photographers in Florida, where they are now posing my latest Southern pastoral song, which will also no doubt be appreciated by both the singers and managers of America.

To illustrate how hard it is to sometimes secure a scene or a certain subject, I have sent photographers to San Antonio, Texas, to get the “real thing,” which was a cowpuncher and his cabin for a song entitled “The Star and the Flower.” It would have been easy enough to get some stage setting in some photographic studio and get some person to represent the cowboy, but I preferred to send where I could get the real thing. In another scene a herd of cattle grazing was necessary. To secure same, photographers were sent into Wyoming Territory and there secured the finest slide ever thrown upon a canvas, which always receives a great round of applause. For my child song, “Hello, Central, Give me Heaven,” it was desirable to photograph the interior of a metropolitan telephone exchange. The officers in charge of the centrals are by no means anxious to have their switchboards photographed, and do not cater to curious visitors; but, as I was on friendly terms with the director of the Chicago Telephone Company, by his courtesy a camera was allowed to be introduced in the operators’ exchange one Sunday morning and the necessary pictures were secured. Sometimes it is necessary to take an entire theatrical company to certain parts of the city, paying them their regular price, to pose a series of illustrations on a farm or in a any vicinity where the scene is cast. A great many of my personal friends often assist in posing, but I have found it more satisfactory to engage or accept the kindness of actors and actresses, as they understand the art of posing much better.

Publishers should take a personal interest in their slides; the slide manufacturers would then be more careful. As it is, some of the publishers take a new song and hand it to an illustrator, with instructions to go out and make a set of slides for same. They forget all about it until they see the slides flashed in some theater, and are then horribly disgusted and disappointed. They have only themselves to blame. If they would have given a little time to the illustrator to see that he got his work in harmony with the song, they would get much better results. Each and every slide posed for any of my songs is under my personal supervision. A great many times one hundred and fifty negatives are taken of one set of scenes to secure sixteen slides. No set of slides is ever placed on the market unless O.K.’d by myself. Once they are there I am satisfied that the public, the managers and the singers have what they paid for.

Source: Cha[rle]s K. Harris, “Illustrating Song Slides,” Moving Picture World 9 March 1907, 5-6.
Image source: Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division

Music Ads, 1910

Here is a page of music ads that appeared in Moving Picture World in October 1910. Notice that the vast majority of the ads are for sound effects and automatic instruments.

(Click on the image for a larger version.)

From Hearing the Movies

Source: Moving Picture World 8 October 1910.

Playing the Story versus the Details

This week, Clarence Sinn continues his campaign to get musicians to play to the story rather than the details. His basic principle is this:

don’t pay too much attention to the details and accessories of a picture unless they have an important bearing on the scene or the story. Rather, try to grasp the impression the picture is intended to convey and give that all the assistance you can.

For the musician, this means figuring out what not to play as much as what to play. Sinn's analysis of The Dixie Mother is exemplary in this respect. He notes how it is best to ignore, more or less, the scenes showing the reunion of the father, son and daughter-in-law so that the music can focus on the continuing concern of the mother, who should be the actual focus of this part of the film. The scenes with the father, son and daughter-in-law are in this respect incidental to the larger point of the story, which is centered on the mother. Playing to the mother's point of view, then, is a way for the music to reinforce this structure of the story.

This is the last music column for 1910.

I have noticed a tendency among some pianists to play to the details of a picture rather than to the story itself. While I do not wish to pose as a fault finder to those who are conscientiously endeavoring to fit their pictures correctly, I must again point out the importance of carrying out the general impression which the story is intended to convey. Our photoplays are often composed of short and rapidly changing scenes and at first glance an alert mind will frequently note the most conspicuous object and give it an unmerited prominence. He thus throws his picture out of balance and destroys an impression he might otherwise have retained. I am speaking particularly of those stories which are on the sympathetic order. The music is an important factor in these, and can help or mar the picture according to whether it is applied correctly or incorrectly. To make my meaning clear, I will cite as an illustration a recent release “A Dixie Mother.” In the first part of the story (which is laid in the time of the Civil War) one of her sons is killed. The father vows eternal hatred to the North. After the war is over the other son marries a Northern girl and is thereby cut off from his parents. These incidents develop toward the one point, viz.: the Spartan mother’s pride has kept her silent, though her heart is hungry for her boy. Later she receives a letter saying her son and his wife are waiting at a nearby station, asks for a reconciliation, and that a carriage should be sent for them. The father refuses, but finally, unknown to her, he relents and drives away. The next scenes alternate quickly, showing and despairing and half crazed “Dixie mother” and the carriage on its way; its arrival, the meeting between the father and son, the return trip and the arrival at home. This journey is shown in a number of scenes, and after each one the mother is shown. The whole picture is full of pathetic Southern tunes, and when it comes to the latter part of it your audience should be keyed to that pitch where the tears come easily. From now on keep them there. Run a plaintive from the letter scene until she comes into the room where the cradle stands. Change to the theme you played in the first part when her dead boy was brought in (“Massa’s in the Cold Ground” will answer) as her memory has gone back to those days, and hold this theme to the finish even though the intervening scenes are of a different character. The meeting between father, son and daughter-in-law may not look pathetic, nor the drive forth and back, but you are not playing to them; they are only details whose sole value lies in their relationship to the central idea. You are playing to the “Dixie mother” and all the interest about her must be sustained; a stop or a change in the music would break the tension, which is something you have been trying to hold throughout the latter half of the picture. At the “tag” or finish of the picture you may change your music or simply swell to forte without change as you see fit. It is immaterial.

“The Lesson,” though not so deeply emotional, is worked along similar lines. You open the picture with something of a quasi-plaintive character (“Apple Blossoms” will do) which will play until the son’s return home. Pause until he enters room of his father. Pathetic until the sister finds him in barroom. Agitato for the struggle, then pathetic till the finish of picture.

The points I am trying to bring out are these: don’t pay too much attention to the details and accessories of a picture unless they have an important bearing on the scene or the story. Rather, try to grasp the impression the picture is intended to convey and give that all the assistance you can. I saw a picture last week wherein one scene opened showing an empty chair in the foreground. Though the most conspicuous object in the scene, this chair had not more to do with the story than the clock on the wall, yet because it was so plainly visible the musician switched to the “Vacant Chair.” Had this chair been placed there to suggest a dead or absent one, and had the action carried out this suggestion the music would have been correct. As it was, it was absurd. Another instance I heard when the judgment was at fault—this time it was playing to the costumes of the characters instead of the action of the play. The story introduced a couple of Spaniards in a prominent way and their presence was always a signal for a Spanish waltz or habanero, with tambourine and castanets. In the lighter scenes this was all right enough, but in some of the dramatic scenes it was wholly out of place. One does not usually associate dance music with either a fight or a death bed—though had the characters in question heard this particular music they might have fought and died in earnest. A priest was hearing the confession of a dying woman, and because of her Spanish dress the castanets clicked all through the solemn scene. These instances are bona fide. There is no need to mention where I heard them as such things are of too frequent occurrence. It is only another instance of observing unimportant details and overlooking the essential points; errors which occur oftenest among those who are sincerely trying to work up their pictures correctly and really believe they are succeeding.

* * *

I am in receipt of a letter from C. J. Alden, Orpheum Theater, Bizbee, Ariz. Brother Alden believes in the superiority of the orchestra in working up pictures and speaks of his own experience. I am sorry I cannot quote the letter as it is a lengthy one as well as interesting. However, he makes two points which I will hand out to the constituency. I quote his words: “It must be remembered that there can be but one leader in the pit and he must be the pianist.” And again: “I was instrumental in placing the orchestra in the Royal Theater, also the Orpheum, in this city. The orchestra was tried as an experiment in both places, and now neither manager would be without one. Good work, Brother Alden. As to your first assertion (as herein quoted) it all depends. W. E. King, manager of the Orpheum Theater orchestra, Chicago, has two violinists (Messrs. Kipkowsky and Teller) each of whom “dopes out” the picture on his own shift, and their work looks pretty good to me. At that I believe your method would work out best in most cases. I would like to hear from some of the rest of my readers and learn what they think of it.

Clarence Sinn, “Music for the Picture,” Moving Picture World 31 December 1910, 1531.

Patriotic Airs and Other Tips

Clyde Martin's column this week is again rather amorphous, and it must be said that he seems in a rather surly mood. After taking issue with the use of the flag for assuring applause, Martin prints a letter from one reader, which he forthrightly calls "foolish question No. 999." The more I read Martin and the way he freely berates his readers (especially in comparison to Clarence Sinn), the more I wonder that his column lasted as long as he did.

It has only been in the last couple of years that any strides have been made towards playing the pictures and it has been just the last few months that musicians have awakened to the fact that they have a world of opportunities before them if they can master this new profession.

Last week, while we were running the Vitagraph picture "The Statue Dog," the release of November 25, it occurred to me that it was just such a picture that got me into the notion of making a study of playing the pictures. It was about four years ago, I was playing in one of the first picture houses in Denver, and if I remember correctly the name of the film was "Crayano." It showed a cartoonist drawing sketches, I think the first sketch was that of an Irishman, and I played "The Wearing of the Green." The second sketch was that of a dog and I played "Oh Where, Oh Where Is My Little Dog Gone," and there were several other sketches where such music filled in very well. Then at the close of the picture the cartoonist made a drawing of Col. Roosevelt, and of course I was there with "Yankee Doodle," or something of that nature, and naturally the house went into hysterics when the Roosevelt picture was completed, and I took credit for half of the applause (this was four years ago) at any rate I was "mut" enough to believe that the audience was showing their appreciation of my work. Although I have learned better since, I was innocent of the fact at that time, that half of the rotten vaudeville acts and some of the manufacturers of motion pictures would unfurl the American flag at the end or climax in order to get a hand. At that, I am glad that my conscience did not hurt me at that time, for it put me in the notion of watching for points in the pictures where I could use appropriate a music, and I trust that the Vita¬graph picture of "The Statue Dog" will have a tendency to start more beginners into playing the pictures.

In "The Statue Dog" several opportunities present themselves where short strains of popu¬lar tunes can be used to good advantage. When the title "A Rah Rah Boy" comes on, you can play "He's a College Boy" or "College Boys," then comes a title "2 A. M.," you can play "We Won’t Go Home until Morning," and when the title "Kelly” comes on you can play “Has Anybody Here Seen Kelly." But when the dog is shown holding the American flag, we have a subject that must be considered.

When the American flag is used in a picture, the average piano player falls into the first national air that comes into his mind, this is very well as far as your own patriotism is concerned, but if you will play something else in such a scene, and let the flag take due credit for the applause I believe you will be handling the situation in the proper way.

Of course, there are certain pictures like the Pathe picture the "Clemency of Abraham Lincoln" where national airs have been used throughout the picture that it is very appropriate to use them when the flag is shown as well. But the pictures I have reference to are such pictures as "The Statue Dog," where the producer has resorted to such unprofessional means to "pull a picture through."

I once knew of a fly-by-night vaudeville act that was so rotten it would have been hissed off the stage had it not been that they closed their act by letting down a big drop, on which was painted the American flag. When the audience saw the drop they gave it (the drop) a big hand and the vaudevillians took several bows. At the end of the week the manager, on the Saturday night show, had his carpenter put a sign on the drop reading "Three Cheers for the Red, White and Blue, not the act,” and I believe the performers took eighteen or twenty bows that night before they discovered the sign on their drop.

This week I received a letter from a piano player, asking foolish question No. 999 "What can you play for dramatic pictures, can you give me a list of selections that won't make the work so tiresome?" Here is my answer: "If you find the art of playing the pictures becoming tiresome to you, don't undertake a profession that means work afternoon and night. If you would really make a success at playing the pictures, your work would be a pleasure and not a burden to you. If you have some relative in politics that can get you a job in the city hall, there's where you will be a shining light, or if you have money, go to Florida for the winter and take a rest, anyone that would write such a foolish letter either needs a rest or an examination."

I have received a large number of such foolish letters. and then I have received many letters giving practical tips and asking reasonable questions, and I am glad to hear from musicians at any time and be of any service possible.

A piano player that plays the pictures knows that it means hours of hard work, but if they are heart and soul in their work and are looking forward to a future, they will find their work to be a pleasure and not a drudge. If the work is a drudge to you, you had better get off of the job and find something "easy."

I cannot see why playing the pictures would be a burden to any musician. If you are playing for vaudeville, you are obliged to play as the act wants you to, if you are doing concert work you are in a rut, the same thing week in and week out. But picture playing offers something better. You have a large field, you have quite an assortment of subjects, you have no one but yourself to fight it out with. What more can you ask I was really glad to get such a foolish letter, for I never believed there was anyone with musical ability that found their work to be a burden.

Did you ever notice that the stars on the legitimate stage usually "get a hand" at their first appearance of the evening? This is just as true with the ten, twenty and thirty-cent attractions as it is with those higher up. Each have their own class of admirers. It is just the same with the motion picture star, yet, have you ever tried to "work up" the entrance of Florence Turner, Alice Joyce, or any of the stars of the picture world? I have, and have met with success. I make it a point to "work up" the entrance of the popular stars and it never falls that the audience give them a round of applause. It is true this is a small point, but, I believe, it makes the audience more enthusiastic in the pictures and has a tendency to make more admirers of the silent drama.

If you have any suggestions in this line, if you have discovered any new way of "working up" scenes, just drop me a line and I assure you any pointers win be appreciated by readers of The Index, as well' as myself.

Source: Clyde Martin, Playing the Pictures, Film Index 31 December 1910, 12.

Dialogue and Video Games

This is an extended trailer for the forthcoming video game, Star Wars: The Old Republic. I found particularly interesting the aesthetic attitudes expressed toward sync dialogue: that it is the most effective means of player "immersion." I don't really agree with that claim (I find ambient sound effects and music much more immersive), but I do think the large amount of sync dialogue will make for a somewhat different player relation to narrative.

General Issues in Accompanying

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The Golden Supper":

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

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

Advertising Music and Playing Parallel Editing

Martin begins this week's column with a suggestion to use music as part of advertising the theater. He includes a sample ad for his home theater in Keokuk, Iowa. Perhaps in response to Sinn's column the previous week, Martin then turns to the issue of playing to scenes with parallel editing, a common difficulty for musicians of the time. The basic question was: when scenes alternate, should the players change music to reflect the change in scenes or should they maintain the same musical number so as to avoid abrupt shifts in music. Finally, Martin ends this week's column with brief paragraphs on using popular songs as accompaniments and on whether music should be played between shows.

When you take in consideration the number of people that come to your theatre to hear the music as well as to see the pictures, you will agree with me when I suggest advertising your musical part of the program as strong as you do the pictures. Of course, there are things to be considered: if you have run over a certain reel and find it to be a poor production you would not think of using any printers' ink on advertising the same. On the other hand, if you have some good feature picture that will get you the money by using a few inches in the local papers, you will take a chance and boost that certain picture. It is the same thing with your music, if your musicians are making good with your patrons, they are as much of a drawing card as the pictures and should have their share of publicity.

Advertising is the life of any business if used to the best advantage, but poor advertising is worse that none at all and only proves a detriment to your business. If you have good musicians, people who are playing the pictures boost them the same as you do your pictures and you will soon find it will mean money in your pocket, for as soon as you start advertising your musicians, the patrons will give more attention to their work, and when your patrons awake to the fact that the musicians are playing the pictures, you will find that you have a permanent drawing card.

The advertising copy on this page is an example of the way the Dodge theatre company, of Keokuk, Iowa, boost their musicians, and I believe their method of advertising in the local papers has gone far towards building up the capacity business that continues throughout the entire summer and winter season.

It is true that different conditions prevail in different towns, and possibly it would be money lost to advertise a picture show in some localities; nevertheless, if you have never tried this method, a few weeks' advertising in your local papers would be an inexpensive experiment and might prove to be the upbuilding of your business.

You will find that the advertising will help you in more ways than one, for if the musicians see that you are boosting their work and featuring the music they will work harder towards playing the pictures.

During the past week I have received a great many letters from musicians and the suggestions and inquiries have been a great help to me as they have brought up many points that often arise in playing the pictures. I think the most important question was in regard to a scene in the Pathe production of "Abraham Lincoln's Clemency," the piano player called my attention to the scene where there is a battle raging in the background and to the front of the picture is the hero who has been mortally wounded. The question was, "Should you continue loud heavy music in keeping with the battle, or soft pathetic music for the death of the hero?" This is a situation that often arises, you will find such double scenes in many pictures, and as a rule I would suggest that you keep your music in touch with the central figure or attraction, but in this particular scene I would suggest that you have the drummer carry out the scene of battle by a roll on the base [sic] drum throughout the entire scene, and the piano player play appropriate music for the death of the hero, by doing this I believe it will be as near correct as the scene can be worked out, and I think the contrast in the music should make a very pleasing effect.

Since this scene has been suggested to me I recall a similar scene in the Kalem picture "The Touch of a Child's Hand." In this picture you will remember the scene where the insane father is shown on the porch with a knife in his hand, the audience is in suspense as to whether he is to kill the rich man or the child of the rich man, and the scene shifts several times, first showing the insane man on the porch then showing the interior of the rich man's home. As the scene changes so quickly and often, I would suggest that you keep up the creepy music through the entire scene. The creepy music in this particular picture and scene not only suggests the insane man's intentions when he is shown on the porch, but when the interior of the rich man's home is shown it suggests the danger that is about to befall the rich man or his child, and as they are unaware of the oncoming danger the music makes a great contrast to the scene.

The Kalem release of November 25 "The Roses of the Virgin" is a good example where popular selections can be used to good advantage. In the scene where Pierre's mother takes the roses from the garden it would be very appropriate and pleasing to play "The Garden of Roses," or "Just Like the Rose." Then at the close of the picture where the mother appears before the shrine you will find it will help the scene by playing "The Rosary" until the close of the picture.

In another letter I received last week I was asked to suggest some good music to play between the shows. This question is easily answered. I do not believe in playing between the shows. As a rule the intermission is very short, you will seldom find a wait of over six or eight minutes, during this short time the people are passing in and out and there is usually so much confusion and noise that I hardly believe music would be appreciated. I believe if you will take a rest during the intermission the audience will appreciate your work a great deal more when you start playing the pictures. In next week's article I will devote most of my space to answering the numerous questions I have received In the last couple of weeks.

Source: Clyde Martin, “Playing the Pictures,” Film Index 24 December 1910, 28.