Old-fashioned sound delights

Press, 26 July 1983, Page 12

Old-fashioned sound delights

Collecting with

Myrtle Duff

It is nine years since I last shared my home with a 15-year-old, so it was quite a pleasant surprise to discover that my present young guest’s taste in music was much more acceptable to my ear than that which her predecessor had found a necessary accompaniment to all his waking hours. It is probably a little optimistic to believe that this indicates the dawn of a quieter age. But it would be nice to be quiet enough sometimes to enjoy the strains of some oldfashioned tunes from a musical box. Few of us though would wish to replace the entertainment available in our homes from radio, stereo, and television with such a limited repertoire on a permanent basis.

Music boxes have remained popular both with collectors and as attractive novelties in the home in spite of the 24-hour service available from more sophisticated, twentieth century devices.

They must have been a great source of pleasure in earlier times to those not

able to provide music for themselves. Although modern collectors are fellow members oi the clubs which cater for the old gramophone enthusiasts, musical boxes are really more closely related to clocks. Except for some modern varieties which operate on batteries, they all depend on a clockwork mechanism.

Among the most sought after and certainly my favourite, is the singing bird box.

These have been made and treasured for at least 200 years. A tiny bird pops up from the box, flutters its wings, and whistles. They probably developed from the small, hand-operated musical boxes made in France from about the mid-seventeenth century. Known as serinettes, they were used to train canaries to sing. This seems a rather unnecessary task, but perhaps it resulted in the bird being able to copy a tune in addition to its usual natural song.

I have not been able to find out, but it is certain that they were used to train or inspire caged canaries. There is in existence a fairly well known . print from a painting by Chardin in which he depicted a young woman who had laid aside her needlework to operate the serinette and watch her little bird pupil in his cage. I have not found any of these ingenious but rather expensive little birds for sale in Christchurch. But I do know of three in private collections, so if you are really anxious to procure one it will pay to keep an eye on all sale cata-

logues. If they are about they will become available some time or other. In the meantime it is sometimes possible to buy a contemporary Japanese version which works from a battery. These birds do not pop up. They reside all the time in their cages. They are mass produced, and their cages are not of gold or silver, but they are cheery little things and brighten up a dark corner on a cold winter’s day. Two of my friends own ,them, and I am always happy when they press the switch and allow the little yellow bird to whistle his tune. After a short pause he repeats this, and goes on

doing so until the switch is turned off.

Not really a musical box, of course, but nice to have around. From the serinette there evolved a never-ending variety of mechanical objects for the reproduction of tunes.

No longer always in boxes, they came in all! shapes and forms made with vastly differing degrees of aesthetic taste. They ranged from a model harp in silver-gilt and mother-of-pearl which played two tunes by Mozart and stood seven and threequarter inches high, through a selection which included coloured tin boxes, dolls, and other toys to the more elaborate jewel cases and work boxes. These were the most popular and were often made in expensive materials, sometimes even in precious metals with jewel decoration. Some were in the form of miniature musical instruments, most were lined with silk or velvet, and had special containers and devices for sewing articles or different types of jewellery.

Miniature ones were made, usually in Switzerland or France, but all, large or small contained the clockwork operated cylinder and comb movement of producing the music.

During the nineteenth century — the great age oi international exhibitions — manufacturers competed at these events to display their latest products. In each they endeavoured to outdo their rivals by introducing different types of combs to draw sweeter music from the cylinder. Frequently they added a variety of gimmicks to enhance the original tune with different and sometimes strange sounds. The boxes became larger, and were often housed in handsome cases made oi rare timbers by some of the best craftsmen in the cabi-net-making trade. The example illustrated is one of these. Made in Switzerland in the mid-late nineteenth century, it has bells and tambour attachments in a handsome cabinet of inlaid woods. With it is a hand-written list of tunes including eight melodies: The "Golden Dawn Waltz”; “Ada,” a polka; “Bonnie Dundee”; Nelly Gray”; “The Minstrel Boy”; “Home Sweet Home”; “March of the Men of Harlech”; and “Gerricots Galop Billant.” The great change from the fixed programme of the cylinder to a machine which used replaceable discs began in Leipzig in 1886, when Paul Lochmann produced a machine known as a symphonion, which played circu-

lar cardboard discs. It is believed that Lochmann was not really the inventor of this system, but was the first to manufacture them on a large scale for public sale. These instruments are described by John E. T. Clark in his book, “Musical Boxes” published in 1961 as “standing on four feet in an upright cabinet, usually of walnut with glass-panelled door, and altogether highly finished and polished.” A few years later the Polyphon Music Works opened, also at Leipzig. This firm used a similar method for reproducing sound, but with important modifications which enabled the firm successfully to contest a lawsuit in which Lochmann claimed that they had used his designs. The steel discs used by Polyphon were then used by both firms, which continued to develop and improve their products, side by side, for many years.

I am sure that collectors here have examples of both machines. But for the public of Christchurch perhaps the Polyphon has some significance because there is at the Canterbury Museum a beautiful example with a large collection of discs, which has a very special connection with our local history. It stood in the public bar

of the Occidental Hotel in Latimer Square from about 1906 until 1979, and was bequeathed to the museum by Mrs M. M. Perry, whose family owned the hotel during that period. The Polyphon is described in the catalogue as a disc musical box, upright coin-in slot version. Made at the “Polyphon” factory in Leipzig, Germany, on August 28, 1900. Carved oak cabinet with disc bin. Selection of 58 24 ] /a inch discs; each plays for approximately twd minutes; the machine runs for 12 discs on one full wind of the spring. Discs range from opera to popular songs, most pre--1914 (examples: “The Last Rose of Summer,” “Radetzky March,” “Miserere” from “11 Trovatore,” “The Soldiers of the Queen,” “Waltz” from “The Mikado,” “Kathleen Mavourneen” and “H Bacio.” For some time this machine stood in a public gallery at the museum and could be played by anybody willing to spend 10 cents to hire a penny from the counter. Unfortunately, the pennies did not all go into the Polyphon and the supply dwindled. This and other minor problems led to its temporary removal from the gallery, but it is hoped soon to have it once again available to the public.