Supplying the World With Music: The Gramophone Industry

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 672, 25 May 1929, Page 17

Supplying the World With Music: The Gramophone Industry

Architecture has been likened i to frozen music. This is a figure of speech, but a concrete expression may be applied to the gramo- j phone record, which indeed is j •‘solid music.” Through the tracings of a needle upon a revolving \ disc, a mere mechanical instru- \ jnent may speak with the voice of | the angels, or may echo the cry of suffering humanity. In truth music is the universal art, with power to charm the hearts or disarm the griefs of thousands in this world. It is immutable and eternal, and its influence upon humanity cannot be calculated in nice terms of ••less or more.”

HEAT as It has ever If - 1 -i|' J been in its scope, i £ j this greatest of I! I the arts has been I f 1 the gramophone, [ r -which enables man to • transfer tor all time to a coloured disc the sublimest conpositions. With the gramophone has come a greater appreciation of music, and -what formerly was a pleasure for the cultured few is now a joy to Everyman. Soon New Zealand may know that the work of her singers, her players and her composers may be given to the country by the actual manufacture of gramophone records in the Dominion. To make music is not merely to take part in an industry. It is to do one’s part in giving pleasure to thousands. The day surely will come ■when “Made in New Zealand” will be proudly stamped on many black discs, and artists In the Dominion will gladly sing into a recording instrument to give their voices or their instrumental talent to New Zealanders.

Man does not live by bread alone, and the human race is as dependent upon music as upon the solider things of life. From time immemorial, when the first men discovered to thenpleasure that they could produce harmony with their throats or with metal or by striking a tightly-drawn skin across soft wood, the making of music and the striving toward perfection has persisted.

Great though the development of radio has been in the past few years, it is safe to say that no means of expression has advanced so rapidly in so short a time as the gramophone. And on the people in general there has been no Instrument with as great an influence. The history of the gramophone from the days -of the first scratchy melodies to this era of a orthophonic reproduction affords a fascinating subject for study, and one branch—the manufacture of records—gives a glimpse of romance against a background of utilitarian machinery. In Australia today a flourishing in-

dustry has developed during the last two years, and the Commonwealth bids fair to become one of the greatest gramophone countries in the world. Australia has attained to a high standard both in means of production and in the quality. From the nucleus of two years ago there has grown a factory which employs 260 skilled hands,

whose work is equal to that of any others similarly employed in any part of the world.

It Is a considerable distance to the moon, but the sound waves produced each year by the factory would reach those hundreds of millions of miles and back to earth again. The total width of the number of 12-inch records made each month in the factory would reach to the majestic top of Mount Everest twice over. The weight of reeords made last year was 725 tons, or three tons of music for each working day. The space they occupied be 60,000 cubic feet. The weight of hydraulic pressure utilised was 210,000,000 tons.

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These figures, inadequate as they are, give the layman a little idea of

the magnitude the industry has already attained, and of the demand for recorded music. Some conception of the ; possibilities of the manufacture of re- ; cords in New Zealand may also be I gained.

Australia Now Produces Records Which Are in Popular Demand . , . Will New Zealand Have Its Own Gramophone Factories ?

To the man. in the street, the making of the record is a matter of singing, speaking or playing into the horn of a complicated apparatus which reproduces the voice after the sound waves have been impressed upon wax. Credulous people have had the idea that each record was made separately by each performer. One may well imagine the collapse of a Caruso or a Chaliapin after his seven-thousandth rendering of the same operatic excerpt. No. Thanks to science and invention, the making of gramophone records has no end, for they may be reproduced any number of times from the original matrix. In the Australian factory the actual recording is carried out in a soundproof chamber —a lofty room containing a special damping apparatus which does away with reverberation, echoes and foreign noises. There is no sound but that of the melody being committed to solidity. A microphone similar to that in a broadcasting studio is the vehicle of expression for those who record. The sound waves are conveyed through

wire leads into an operating box In which the actual recording machine is installed. This apparatus in general is like an ordinary gramophone. On the turntable the wax master is laid, and a delicate sapphire cuts into it the record of harmony and changing inflection.

By the use of the master disc a peculiar fact has been made apparent. Not one person can recognise his or her own voice when it is played back on the gramophone. Man always imagines that his voice is something other than it really is. This does not necessarily mean that human beings are vain on the subject. A man may imagine that his really pleasant voice is something that causes mothers to call their children to their knees. It may not be the kind of voice that is used for ealliftg the cattle across the sands of Dee at all. Similarly, those who imagine their voices are honeysweet may be quite disillusioned when they hear them recorded. But then, of course, they refuse to believe that it is their own voice.

Many artists have not recognised their voices when they have been played back to them, but to thenfriends the sound is the authentic one.

To gain a rough and ready idea of the truth of this statement, one has merely to press one’s fingers to one’s ears after having counted five in normal tone of voice with the ears open. The sound of counting with the ears shut will give a fairly accurate indication of the sound of the voice to outsiders. This little experiment is worth

trying. Returning, however, to the making of a record. The next step is the preparation of a copper matrix (mother) from the wax master. This work is carried out by immersing the wax master, which has been specially treated, in an electrically-controlled chemical bath, -which deposits a shell of copper upon it. When the shell is

thick enough the copper Is removed, with the result that a metal master, the engraved replica of the wax master, is ready for service. As this is in reverse to the wax record, it is called the master matrix, and becomes the metal record of the selection.

The master matrix being too valuable to be used in the actual process of record-manufacture, working dupli cates, or stamping matrices, have to be made from it. These are prepared by taking a copper impression from the

master matrix, which gives a disc similar to the wax master, the process having been reversed once more. Prom this aghin a copper matrix is made, and substantially reinforced by heavy metal backing. This is plated with nickel, and highly polished, and is now ready for use. So far the processes, although requiring extreme care, have been comparatively simple. The next step is the making of the record which finds its way to the machines of the man

Photographs on this page are published by courtesy of the Columbia Gramophone Co.

in the town and the man in the coun- j 1 try. Naturally, the composition from i which the record is made must be j capable of softening readily under j heat produced by a steam pressure of j 1001 bto the square inch. In the Aus- j tralian factory a newly-discovered material, of such a nature that it is absolutely smooth and so fine-grained | as to eliminate all surface noise from the needle, is used. The pressing process is automatic, a skilled operator working a press in which are secured two stamper matrices. The material is placed be-

tween these and subjected to a hydraulic pressure of 3,0001 b to the square inch. The pressure forces the material into the countless undulations formed by the sound waves in the first recording on the wax master. The people at the factory are not content with sending out the results of this first pressing, but subject them to exhaustive tests from every point of view, mechanical and musical. The slightest fault means the rejection of the master record and a new performance.

Records are not yet past the inspection stage. They are scrutinised care-

fully, and played over before a critical audience before being passed on to the “edgers,” who put a smooth, bright , finish on the edge. All rejected records are immediately destroyed. The completed record is then polished by a special machine, and finally put into its envelope without any further handling. One important point to be observed . in the making of records is that the , factory must be absolutely dust-proof. The work is so delicate that the smallest grain of dust will spoil the whole of a recording. To prevent any likelihood of impediment to the manufacture, the Australian factory has installed a huge and costly apparatus, including a powerful suction plant, which ensures that the work is carried out under perfect conditions. If Australia can carry out so great a work in its own territory, the time

must shortly come when the Dominion will house at least one factory for the manufacture of records.

Then and Now

TRIPS TO RECORDING STUDIOS THE ELECTRICAL PROCESS Imagine yourself an audience of one, with an orchestra 100 or more strong, playing for your benefit —and for that of millions. Or perhaps Chaliapin may be singing for you and the record-buying public. Everything is quite normal, except that the singer or orchestra are in ordinary clothes instead of evening dress. The performer may be singing into a micvrophone. his orchestra or accompanist occupying normal positions in the scheme of things, just as if the item were an ordinary concert one. That is the recording session of today.

It was not like that a few years ago. Instead of into a neat little microphone or a number of microphones, the vocalist or the orchestra sent the sound-waves down the booming gullet of a big horn. The room was filled to overflowing, so it seemed, with instrumentalists, each being placed a different distance from the mouth of the horn, according to the volume of sound of his instrument. For instance, the violin w r as quite close, the flautist was under the horn, the cornetist was a fair distance away in the background, and the trombone boomed in the far corner of the room. In that way only could the old process get a natural orchestral performance.

Those were the days of stern endeavour for the musicians. Then they had to work their hardest in all sorts of precarious positions. Their condition at the end was that of a Rugby forward who has gone through a hard game with very little training. There is one tale of a gentleman who operated the “thunder,” perched uneasily above the recording-trumpet. He reached over to smite the iron sheet, and lost his balance. He struck something, but unfortunately it was the singer, who lost his interest in the subsequent proceedings.

There was no more recording that day. * * * Drop into a studio today, and consider the lot of the musician and the singer, who toil not with difficulty, but play and sing in comfort and informal dress. From ceiling to floor, just as in a radio broadcasing studio, the room is draped with heavy hangings, which correct any acoustic defects. The orchestra members are in their right places, and the tympanist has plenty of room for the display of his powers. No neat orchestra this, clothed in a symphony of black and white. Some are in their shirt-

sleeves, some have their collars off. In front of. and below, the conductor sits a man with a telephone. Slung from the roof are microphones. Another electrical record Is about to fre made- * • • Suddenly the noise of the conversation of members of the orchestra ceases. The last squeak of a violin being tuned is cut off abruptly. The silence is absolute—so profound that it can be felt almost oppressively. The conductor raises his baton, and the orchestra begins to play. But the sound-waves on this occasion do not go abroad to be impressed upon a waxen disc. This performance is only for the purpose of timing, and to allow the recorders, to whom it was transmitted —through the microphones to loud speakers in the recordingroom—to judge the playing for balance. Their criticisms are heard by the man with the telephone, who decrees certain adjustments. The disposition of the orchestra is changed a little, and all is in readiness for the taking of a “wax.” A red light gleams suddenly as a signal for silence. An electric buzzer conveys the information that the recording machine has started. The telephonist nods, and the orchestra begins playing again. So the piece goes on, until just before the finale the telephonist raises his arm. The last note dies away, and the arm is still raised. One feels drama here, for conductor and orchestra stay as if graven in stone, silent, unmoving. The arm is dropped, and conversation breaks out, almost startling in its loudness. If the recorders are satisfied with the performance, there is no need for a second performance. If there is any fault, conductor and orchestra go through their work once more, and even again if required- A high standard is demanded of people w’ho record music nowadays. Not only is the actual performance of the orchestra or vocalist or player carefully considered, but also the appearance of the wax master. In the recording room there is a scene of elaborate technicality. Everywhere there is much electrical apparatus, and every man who attends to the mechanical portion of making music solid is an expert in his craft. The recorder has a telephone, and by his side is a loud speaker, which enables him to listen to the performance from the studio. While the per-

formance is being given, be controls the volume, so that the music is neither too soft nor too heavy upon the ear. This is one of the greatest advantages of electrical recording, for it gives the opportunity of strengthening weak sound waves and reducing those that might otherwise be too intense. A more natural performance is given, without the sudden blare or fading that formerly offended the ear.

Electrical recording is a rapidlyadvancing art, for each new issue of

records show a step further on the road toward perfection. There is less dependence on chance. Faults may not only be detected before the final stages, but also may be corrected.