Showing posts with label jazz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jazz. Show all posts

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Great-Grandma Wilmesherr’s Zither

My recent post about the rebirth of my old guitar, and reuniting with its voice, reminded me of a similar triumph of heart and intuition over conventional economic thinking.

In this case, it’s a much, much older instrument—a Columbia Special model no. 2 fretless zither, ca. 1900, which has apparently “kept its value.” Thanks to a small investment from me. On ebay, I’ve seen similar zithers (same brand, about the same size, model, and vintage) that are pretty crapped-out (cracked, no strings, missing parts) being sold for around $30 or $50.Ones in decent shape start around $125 and go up from there, depending, in large part, on how fancy or unusual they are. And mine is in pretty good shape. Hey, you can tune it, play it, and all the parts are there.

I’m betting this zither dates to about 1895 to 1908, and there’s a good chance it was purchased via a Sears catalog. Zithers were also often sold personally, for example by door-to-door salesmen, apparently often by college students making money over the summer. Also, naturally, music dealers also sold them in their shops.

Columbia zithers during this period sold for between 4 and 8 dollars. An old ad I saw online has the no. 3 model selling for $6, so the no. 2 (which this is) was probably at the lower end. If you bought music with it, it would’ve cost extra. Adjusted for inflation, $4 in 1900 would be worth about $124 today—see what I mean? It’s held its value.

Specifications. It’s a “Columbia Special” zither no. 2, manufactured by the Phonoharp Company based in Boston. People today call these types of zithers “chord zithers” or “fretless zithers.” This name distinguishes them from so-called guitar zithers, which have a guitar-like fretboard on the long side that makes a portion of the instrument capable of being fretted and strummed something like a mountain dulcimer.

This is called a “chord” zither because there are dedicated groups of four strings on the long side, and each of these groups is an entire chord that can be strummed at once, as an accompaniment. In this instrument, there are four groups, thus four chords. From left to right (or outside to inside), the chords are C, G7, F, and Am. Which is to say, I, V7, IV, and vi. And that’s all you need to play songs like “Silent Night,” “Yankee Doodle,” “Go Tell Aunt Rhody,” “Old Hundred,” . . . hmm, even “I See a Bad Moon a-Risin’.” If you’re singing (and not trying to play) the melody, you can accompany yourself perfectly well with just those four chords. Ta-da!

We know how the strings are to be tuned because there’s a cardboard label attached along the base of the instrument that shows the note for each string. More on this in a second.

To the right of the four chords are fifteen melody strings—two octaves of C major scale, C to C to C: Do, re, me, fa, sol, la, ti, do, re, me, fa, sol, la, ti, do. It’s like having two octaves of just the white keys of a piano. Sorry, no sharps or flats! You’re pretty much stuck in the key of C major (or A minor), or maybe you can kinda fake it in the keys of F or G, if you skip the B flats or F sharps that are required by those keys. Or, you could retune those notes. Anyway, these melody strings, true to the name, are for plucking the melody with one hand, while you strum the chords with the other hand.

I should note that you can also pluck certain of the chord strings so you can add to the number of low notes you can play, but they’re out of sequence, and you have to know what you’re doing to descend below the C on the melody strings. You’ll have to pick the low B out of the G7 chord, the low A out of the F (or Am) chord, low G out of the G7 chord, low F out of the F chord . . . and whatever. It’s kind of cuckoo at some point.

These zithers were incredibly popular in the early 1900s. As ever, people loved music and wanted to be able to play an instrument in their parlors. Remember: homes had parlors in those days, because people entertained each other in the evenings. Family, friends, neighbors. There was no radio yet, so people had fun by reading, singing, acting, reciting poetry, you name it. Anyone who could play an instrument had a valuable skill!

One big attraction of a zither was that it offered chords as well as melody, something like a tiny piano, and everyone wanted a piano! But it cost a lot to put a piano in your parlor. Not only were pianos expensive, but also they took up a lot of space, were hard to move, required a specialist to tune (and repair), and everyone knew that you needed to practice like crazy to learn how to play it. And pay for lessons. Or, as one zither advertisement put it, “receive a musical education.” Sounds daunting, doesn’t it!

These zithers promised to be more affordable, and they were less expensive, more portable, and came with a new (new-new-new!) method of learning to play that (supposedly) bypassed the drudgery of learning to read music. Each of the melody strings was labeled sequentially with a number (the low C was “1,” the D above it was “2,” C an octave higher than the low C was “8,” etc.), and the zithers came with music notated especially for them. It was basically a sort of tablature, coded so that you could start learning “Yankee Doodle” by plucking the following strings in this sequence: 8-8-9-10-8-10-9, 8-8-9-10-8-7 . . . It’s basically a coded solfège system, with numbers 1, 8, and 15 as “do,” 2 and 9 as “re,” 3 and 10 as “mi,” etc.

Also, to show people which chords to play when, the four chords were numbered 1–4, and those numbers were marked below the music staff in the appropriate places.

To get people started even more easily, there were special cards printed and trimmed to fit underneath the strings that gave an even more visually intuitive way of learning.

So whatever happened to these zithers? They sound so pretty! Here’s what I think.

First, the autoharp, a closely related instrument, is a definite improvement, if all you want is chords. Press a button and then strum all the strings. The strings that don’t belong to a chord are simply dampened by the button mechanism. Press the “G” button, strum all the strings, and you hear a nice, full G chord. You don’t need much skill to figure it out, plus you get a lot more different chords to choose from, so you can play in lots of keys, and with other instruments, too.

Second, playing these fretless zithers is not as easy as their manufacturers made them out to be. You do have to practice a lot to get used to the distances between strings in order to play the melody you want. Which is to say, accuracy is a challenge. Also, the chord strings are grouped so closely together, it’s easy to accidentally pluck adjacent strings.

Additionally, it was probably a pain to tune these zithers. Today, you can use an electronic chromatic tuner that tells you when each string is in tune. In the early 1900s, you had to tune by ear (difficult for an amateur), and you had to get at least one of the notes correct with a tuning fork, pitch pipe, or some other instrument. If you had a piano around, you could tune it to that. But then, if you had a piano around, you probably didn't need a zither. Obviously, if an instrument is not in tune, it's not much fun to play.

Third, they made a confusing variety of zithers—even from the same company. Among Columbia Zithers, there were the 2, 2¼, 2½, 3½, 3¾ etc., plus the Guitar Zither, the Mandolin Harp, the Marxaphone, Celestaphone, etc. All with different configurations and capabilities. The play-by-number system meant that you had to be sure the music booklets you got would work with your instrument you had. Or else it meant that a big book of music might not have many songs that would work for your particular instrument: “Aw, shoot, this song only works for the Zither No. 3¾, and I have a 2.” How frustrating.

Fourth, and perhaps the biggest reason: musical tastes changed drastically in the first few decades of the 1900s, and a younger generation came of age. Zithers were great for playing simple folksongs, hymns, popular sentimental ballads, and so forth, but starting in the 1920s Americans were getting radios and beginning to love jazz! Tastes were changing; people were swingin’!

The Jazz Age is one reason why ukuleles became so popular in the 1920s: with just four strings, you can strum darn near any chord you want, even “weird” chords like diminished and augmented chords, and chords in unusual keys that require barring. These chords make amateur guitarists kind of flinch, but uke players have little problem.

So, while zithers were great for playing earnest, straightforward songs like “The Blue Bells of Scotland,” and “Be It Ever So Humble, There’s No Place Like Home,” people were going nuts over tunes like “Toot, Toot, Tootsie (Goo’-Bye),” with its C#°7, G7#5, Eb°7, and other spicy chords. You just can’t play “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary” without a bunch of accidentals.

Anyway, that’s what I think. Regardless, the zither is a treasure to me and a valued connection to my ancestors. More on that in my next post.

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

The Album Thing: Maria Schneider Orchestra, Allegresse

The album thing! It’s a Facebook fad that’s going around, and I’m sharing it on my blog. Why not? Also, I think by going on and on and on with this, I’m singlehandedly killing off the FB “album challenge” thing. Ha ha ha!

Seriously, though, anything by the Maria Schneider Orchestra is a keeper.

“Hang Gliding” is one of my favorite pieces, ever. Maria Schneider is pretty careful not to allow unauthorized copying of her recordings. If you want to hear her music/albums, you have to buy them from ArtistShare. But this live video is available (so far) on YouTube. Here, Ingrid Jensen has the flugelhorn solo.

You’ve never heard of Maria Schneider and her jazz orchestra? Well, then you haven’t been keeping track of the Grammys. She’s won several!

Here’s another sample of this orchestra’s work: “Bluebird” at the 2021 DC Jazz Festival. Seriously, check it out.

Monday, May 11, 2020

The Album Thing: Dave Douglas, A Thousand Evenings

Another entry for the Album Thing! It’s a Facebook fad that’s going around, and I’m sharing it on my blog. Why not? The deal is, share a bunch of albums that you really love, or that really influenced you. You don’t have to say anything about it, just post a picture of the cover. . . . But I say, Hey, I’ll write things if I want to. Also, I’ll share some links to YouTubes so you can hear some of the music on the album.

As usual, I’m sharing links to some samples. Here’s the title song, “A Thousand Evenings.” The beginning of this piece stopped me in my tracks.

Goldfinger” (Gooollllld fingerrrrrr . . . yeah, you know this tune.)

The Little Boy with the Sad Eyes” is another fave.

It’s not from this album, but here’s another from Dave Douglas: “Emmenthaler.” For those of you who remember our cat Earl, this was his theme song. God help you if you ever have a roommate like Earl.

Sunday, May 10, 2020

The Album Thing: Gilberto Gil, Quanta

The album thing continues! It’s a Facebook fad that’s going around. Someone tags you, and you’re supposed to comply. Since I’m going to the trouble to share it on social media, I might as well share it here, too.

Like a previous selection, this album, too, was something I picked up for less than a dollar at a KWWC “clean out our music library” sale. What a great find! At the time, I had no idea who Gilberto Gil is, but I’m glad I found out about him. Not only is he celebrated in his native Brazil but also he is adored by fans worldwide. He should be more widely known in the United States.

This was my first GG album. Music, intellect, and creativity! The songs on this album comment on modern technology and their intersection with humanity's deepest truths. I think you'll love this music. Samples below.

Quanta” (Even in English, the lyrics are superb.)

Ciência e Arte” (Science and Art).

Estrela” (Star): “There must appear / A star in the sky / Every time you smile / There must disappear / A star in the sky / Every time you cry / The contrary also / Might well happen / A star shines / When a tear falls / Or then / A falling star throws itself / Just to see / The flower of your smile open.”

Pop Wu Wei.”

Dança de Shiva.”

Saturday, May 9, 2020

The Album Thing: Terence Blanchard, The Heart Speaks

Albums! It’s a Facebook fad that’s going around. You’re supposed to post a picture of albums you especially love. Since I’m going to the trouble to share it on social media, I might as well share it here, too. This is The Heart Speaks by Terence Blanchard, a collaboration with Brazilian pianist, singer, and composer Ivan Lins. If this had been vinyl, I would’ve worn away the grooves long ago. Samples below.

Aparecida.”

Noturna.”

Antes Que Seja Tarde.”

You might be interested to know that Blanchard plays a Monette trumpet. These are custom-built horns created with the most advanced engineering for acoustic purity and ease of playing. They have a distinctive sound, and sometimes I get tired of hearing it. But people who play them say they’re incredibly easy to play, allowing them a full range of expressiveness. By the way, they cost about as much as a car to buy.

Friday, May 8, 2020

The Album Thing: Roy Hargrove, With the Tenors of Our Time

Albums: It’s a Facebook “challenge” that’s been popular. One of your friends tags you, and then you’re supposed to post pictures of albums you especially love, or that were personally significant, or whatever. I’m sharing these on my blog, too, because why not?

Today it’s Roy Hargrove: may he rest in peace. Only a few trumpeters can achieve such a soulful, sweet sound as well as such fat, edgy, brassy triple exclamation marks—and always tuneful and in-tune. It’s hard to pick just one album of his, but With the Tenors of Our Time is a great one to get to know him by.

Soppin’ the Biscuit,” with Stanley Turrentine on tenor.

Mental Phrasing,” with Joshua Redman on tenor.

When We Were One,” with Johnny Griffin on tenor.

Bonus:

Not on this album, but a favorite.

Another Hargrove favorite, and a sound of happiness.

. . . Truly one of my great trumpet heroes.

Sunday, May 3, 2020

The Album Thing: Patricia Barber, Live: A Fortnight in France

I’m sharing some of my favorite albums. If you haven’t been following along, here’s the deal: One of your friends tags you on Facebook, and then you’re supposed to post pictures of albums you especially love, or that were personally significant, or whatever. I’m sharing these on my blog, too, because why not?

Today’s album? I had a hard time picking out just one by Patricia Barber. I selected this live one because she’s blown us away so many times in concert. If you’ve been following along with me so far, we’re really pivoting here away from vocal music into instrumental. PB is (in my opinion) a better pianist than she is a singer—though her minimalist singing style is perfect for her music. As before, I’m putting samples in the comments below.

Her version of “Norwegian Wood” is amazing. I’m sure you will love it!

This piece, “Crash,” sounds a lot like her earlier work with her combo. Brilliant piano work, rhythmic and harmonic textures. She has certainly done her homework, plus put in her time every week at Chicago’s venerable Green Mill Cocktail Lounge.

If you’ve never heard of Patricia Barber, “Call Me” is a good sample of her playing in an easy pop-ballad style.

And a tasty, straight-ahead swinging version of the classic “Witchcraft”!

Saturday, May 2, 2020

The Album Thing: Karrin Allyson, Collage

Time for today’s album! (If you don’t know what I’m doing, look at some of the previous posts.) When we moved back to Missouri, Karrin Allyson kind of welcomed us back. She was still based in Kansas City then. We still see her every chance we get. Even though she’s in New York now, you can still hear the Midwest in her voice. She does so much so well: upbeat scat bebop, blues, ballads, sambas, pop . . . she could sing the phonebook, and it’d be great! And she doesn’t get enough credit as a band leader.

It was hard to pick one album by her, but Collage is one that always makes me smile.

This album welcomes you with its first song, “It Could Happen to You/Fried Bananas.” (Would you call this a “mashup”? With “Fried Bananas” in it?)

A vocal version of Clifford Brown’s classic “Joy Spring.”

I said she can do ballads. Here, she does tribute to a Thelonius Monk classic, “Ask Me Now.”

And yes, blues. She’s a big Bonnie Raitt fan, and here’s “Give It Up or Let Me Go.”

And, for fun, a live version of the above.

Wednesday, April 22, 2020

The Album Thing: Chuck Mangione, Feels So Good

So I’m participating in this Facebook fad. On Facebook, I was nominated by a dear friend to post something like ten album covers of favorite albums over the years, or something. There were a bunch of rules, but I’m gonna ignore them and just post photos of several of my favorite (or maybe I should say formational) albums over the years. Because that’s the point.

Everyone used to say my trumpet sound was so beautiful. I think it was because I tried to emulate Chuck’s sound on the flugelhorn. I didn’t even know such a thing existed. I was like twelve. I just heard it on the radio and thought it was a trumpet. It was much later when I finally saw the instrument he was playing. No wonder I developed a round, dark sound.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Joy Spring, Karrin Allyson

Here's a YouTube that somebody made with the music of one of my favorite Karrin Allyson songs, from one of my favorite Karrin Allyson CDs!

The album is Collage, made in 1996 when Allyson was still based in Kansas City. Click here to buy a copy of this album, where K.A. shows she can swing hard, scat with taste, break your heart with a ballad, and slay you with the blues. She also sings a Beatles tune and one by Monk, a Cole Porter tune, one by Billy Joel--and she even sings in French and Portuguese on this CD! A terrific sampler of her eclectic talent.

This song must be very difficult to sing, but she makes it sound easy!

Without further ado . . .





Info: The jazz standard "Joy Spring" was written by the immortal Clifford Brown. Karrin Allyson is on vocals, Kim Park on alto saxophone, Mike Metheny on fluegelhorn, Danny Embry on electric guitar, Bob Bowman on bass, Paul Smith on piano, Todd Strait on drums. All these folks were based in Kansas City when this was recorded; only Karrin and Todd (I think) have departed for greener pastures.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Patricia Barber Is Helping Us Stay Cool Today

Wow, oh wow, has it been hot and humid. Even the weeds in the lawn are starting to complain, and that's saying something.

When it's so darn hot, we crave something cool.

So give this a listen.




(Okay, like all the best jazz, this music is actually really hot, but it's cool, too.)

Enjoy!

Monday, May 4, 2009

I Want to Be in That Number

First, an update on where I am these days, sort of, with the blog

At this point my blog is still taking shape—the focus (of course) is “me” and my observations and experiences, and sharing the things I like. That’s why it must have a focus also on the Ozarks, nature, and cooking and restaurants. That’s why it has to talk about being a fourth-generation German American living in the house my great-grandfather made, on the street where both my sets of grandparents lived most of their lives.

I have to admit that I would much rather spend time writing blogs than working, or working on things I am trying to work on, most of it mental work. Or cleaning house.

I still want to “finish” telling you about our Arkansas trip (particularly the Cliff House at the Arkansas “Grand Canyon”; the Fordyce Bathhouse at Hot Springs; and the wonderful music scene at Mountain View); and I want to write more about the Missouri River Lisbon Bottoms area. I’m feeling like I’m “getting way behind” in things I want to write about. I haven’t told you my favorite morel-hunting story. I haven’t told you the story about the Johnny irises, even though they’re almost finished blooming by now.

But this is the season to move all the plants out of the house, establish the flower beds, and cut the grass incredibly often. Plus all the usual work. I’ve just been really busy. And I don’t want my blog to become another one of those things on my “do list.”

So I hope you’ll bear with me being a little disorganized these days.

And now, the topic du jour

When you start a blog, one of the things Blogspot has you do is fill out your personal information or “profile” (which I really only sketched in the briefest way: “From Missourah,” etc.—I do intend to flesh that out a little more), but at least I could confidently list books and music I like, and under “music” I wrote that I like the “unpopular” kind.

Under that category I have to put “jazz.” I don’t want to have to put it into that category, but that’s where it has to go in this country. I guess because it is generally seen as fine art, which by definition excludes the largest, indiscriminate masses.

It is a strange and ironic thing that America’s indigenous musical art form, jazz, is largely unknown here in the States, whereas in Europe it is appreciated and known by all sorts of people. I hear.

Anyway, while we were driving around Arkansas the other weekend, I was playing a CD that had a mix of various southern-flavored music. Some of it was twangy country, some bluegrass, some soul, some blues, and some Dixieland. And one of the tunes was a sassy, swingin’ rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In.”

My dad asked me to turn up the music. (Wow!) He wanted to listen to it. He explained that he had never heard of the song as a kid, and one year when he was at Boy Scout camp, one of the other scouts had a conversation with him. The scout had found out my dad plays the piano, and then asked, “Can you play ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’?” And my dad had to admit he’d never heard the song, and couldn’t play it.

And the boy had replied, “Well, you’re not a piano player then.” This is an interesting story to hear from my dad, who plays Chopin, Scarlatti, and Beethoven. Beautifully. When I think of him as a youngster, I imagine he must have been a lot like “Schroeder” in the Peanuts comic strip. Blond, smart, handsome, reserved, and totally focused on his classical music.

Yet one of the big theme songs of American jazz—this rousing, cross-cultural, spirited, jazzy march—had eluded him and no doubt others. Kids of my generation learned the song as elementary students in music class in the 1970s, when school music books included a multicultural selection.

I know that “political correctness” and “multiculturalism” are troublesome concepts for many Americans, but although we always run into trouble when such notions are bureaucratized, codified, and enforced, the basic impulse of inclusiveness, of welcome, of generosity and understanding and simple politeness, is a fine thing to have toward all who are different than ourselves.

When I try to imagine this country before Civil Rights and before schools and the media became more inclusive, I realize that the white majority had been robbing itself of the richness of our complex society. Segregation hurt the whites, too.

Meanwhile, I would wish that all Americans might know the bliss of Chopin, the majesty of Bach, the glories of Beethoven, as well. Even Sousa. These days, even the “white” canon seems endangered. How can we pass all this worthy music on to the next generation, beyond the elite few who attend music school?

And whom shall we blame for the current flood of vacuous music? MTV? Big media corporations? Or our own lazy appetites? Junk music is like junk food; the only solution for the problem is to make better personal choices every day, and to teach our children to be discriminating (in the good sense of the term).

By the way, Dad really seemed to enjoy hearing “When the Saints Go Marching In” that afternoon, as we drove through Little Rock and past the memorial sculpture of the Little Rock Nine.

Yeah.

As usual, no matter who you are or where your feet are planted this moment—on vacation, at funeral time, working or jobless, in the North or the South—that bouncy, magical song always hits the spot.