The Salkeld Collection of Sound Recordings and Playing Machines

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 23, Issue 2, 1 October 1990, Page 137

The Salkeld Collection of Sound Recordings and Playing Machines

ROGER FLURY

I suppose that most of us have at some time experienced moments of musical revelation. Suddenly, perhaps because of mood or circumstances, the preconceptions and prejudices of many years fall away, and a whole new area becomes accessible. Such a moment occurred for me at a small house in the Hutt Valley suburb of Naenae, where I had driven to discuss with Brian Salkeld the practicalities of moving his huge record collection to its new home in the National Library.

Dominating one room was an old gramophone with its enormous horn directed menacingly at visitors. Brian Salkeld needed little prompting to place a disc on the turntable and set the machine into action. The volume forced us to move well back so that we could gain a fairer perspective on the sound. Two glorious voices filled the room as Rosa Ponselle and Giovanni Martinelli played out the drama of the Nile Scene from Verdi’s Aida. Of course, there was much surface noise, but it was at a consistent level and, with continued listening, seemed to recede as a problem.

What really took me by surprise was the feeling that the singers were actually in the room; to be specific, they were standing just behind the horn. I suddenly became aware of the inadequacies of many vinyl reissues of older recordings, and especially of the way in which one had to listen through the surface noise to hear the performers. On the original recordings, provided they were in good condition, one listened to the artists against a background of surface noise.

Now, this revelation will bring a knowing smile to the lips of older readers and audio aficionados. Others will counter that compact disc technology has resolved these problems. But if this were the case, why has the record company Nimbus been experimenting with alternatives to the traditional transcription processes? Their avowed aim has been to capture the sound as I heard it in Brian Salkeld’s lounge. The results have been controversial to say the least, drawing attention once again to the original format as the most satisfactory carrier. This in itself is sufficient justification for the National Library to accept the Brian Salkeld donation of over 15,000 items. But there is another reason. Much of the material contained in this collection will never see the light of day in any other format. It would simply be impossible

to reissue every recording from the past, and future requests will need to be satisfied by the institutions that have chosen to preserve such material. The Salkeld Collection, in particular, will be of value to others seeking good copies for transcription purposes. But more of that later. First we should take a look at the man who spent his lifetime building the collection, and who has so generously passed his work over to the National Library for the benefit of future generations. Brian Salkeld was born on 18 October 1926 in Christchurch. Both parents were intensely musical, although their tastes were different. His mother was frequently a soloist with the Harmonic Society Choir under its conductor Victor Peters, and the Durham Street Methodist Church Choir under Melville Lawry. His father, who was at various times a grocer and a car salesman by profession, played the piano in a dance band and at one time even had his own group.

Brian recalls the house being filled with music, especially at weekends, when one might hear the ‘Miserere’ from II Trovatore rendered by some enthusiastic amateurs, followed by the latest piano hit of Billy Mayerl. This broad muscial base has remained with him throughout his life and is reflected in the range of material in the collection. A large gramophone at the home of his maternal grandparents proved of immense fascination to the young Salkeld. He used to clamber up onto a chair to play with the turntable, an activity which no doubt prompted his parents to buy him a player of his own as a Christmas present. So at the age of five, Brian was presented with a gift which was to start him on a lifetime of dedication to recorded sound.

By the early 19305, radio was superseding the gramophone as the domestic entertainment centre, and records purchased in the twenties were left on shelves or stored in cupboards. Brian Salkeld soon discovered that if you asked politely, people were happy to hand over their unwanted discs. And so the Salkeld Collection began. He acquired anything and everything, although HMV DB ‘red labels’, which were the most easily obtainable in New Zealand, soon began to dominate, bringing the voices of Caruso, Melba, Tetrazzini, Chaliapin and GalliCurci into the collection. With donations pouring in from all directions, Brian found little need actually to purchase discs. It was not until the Second World War, when he found that you could pick up Madame Patti for sixpence, that he began to haunt second-hand shops.

Another early discovery was the Gramophone magazine, founded in 1923 by Compton McKenzie. Within its pages could be found a whole world of records and recording that provided constant stimulation for the young record enthusiast. And there were live performances too. From his perch high in the ‘gods’ of the Theatre Royal in Christchurch, Brian Salkeld particularly recalls the boost to his enthusiasm provided by the touring Australian Gilbert and Sullivan Company with Evelyn Gardiner and Ivan Menzies.

Despite his obvious obsession with music Brian studied science at Canterbury University until the sudden death of his father forced him prematurely into the workforce as the breadwinner. A career in radio seemed the most natural step, especially since he had already compiled some programmes on historical recordings for broadcast in 1946. He was offered contract announcing for 3ZB and after twelve months joined the permanent staff. He remained with radio for forty years, moving from Christchurch to Palmerston North, Whangarei, Hamilton, and finally, Wellington. During these years he tried his hand at just about

every aspect of broadcasting, from radio advertising to the production of operas such as II Tabarro, Eugene Onegin, Hansel and Gretel, La Traviata, Cosi Fan Tutte and La Rondine. A special feature of Brian’s work for radio has always been the programmes devised, written and presented by him using historical material drawn from his own and Radio New Zealand’s audio libraries. Amongst the earliest examples were They Speak Again (1950 to 1951) in which famous names and occasions from the past were recalled, and They Visited New Zealand, which supplemented recordings with newspaper comment. In more recent years, readers may recall Active Archive, Actualities, and a series on the Greek soprano Maria Callas. Although he officially retired from broadcasting in 1988, Brian still contributes to the Opera Hour programme, and reviews historical reissues for Pressing On.

The Collections There are three main parts to the Salkeld Collection. The largest of these comprises non-New Zealand sound recordings, and is housed in the Sound and Music Centre of the National Library. The collection of playing machines is also the responsibility of the Sound and Music Centre. New Zealand material has been deposited with the Alexander Turnbull Library.

THE SOUND AND MUSIC CENTRE COLLECTION This collection totals approximately 15,000 items in various formats. There are 300 cylinders, including early examples of the direct-cut wax variety dating from the 1890 s onwards, many of which have lost their grooves through heavy usage. In better condition are the examples of celluloid Blue Amberols manufactured by Thomas Edison between 1912 and 1929. Of the discs, the earliest example is a five-inch Berliner dated 1901. This is actually a remake of an 1898 original; an example of the way in which performances were simply re-recorded by the original artist when the master copy, or ‘stamper’, wore out. The earliest examples of shellac discs using the standard lateral cut techniques date from 1900 for ten-inch discs, and 1903 for twelve-inch discs.

Also in the collection are examples of Edison diamond discs dating from the 19205. These are disc versions of the Edison cylinders and are known as ‘hill and dale’ recordings; a title which describes the up and down motion of the needle in the groove as opposed to the left and right motion of the standard disc. A similar technique was in use by French Pathe from 1904 onwards, and examples of these discs, ranging from five to fourteen inches, are in the collection. However, a special sound box is required to play ‘hill

and dale’ recordings. The Edison grooves are very fine —2OO to the inch —and the head has to move across the disc on a worm drive in the manner of cylinder machines. Brian laments that he has been unable to locate a machine that was worth the asking price. I was intrigued by discs which played from the inner to the outer rim, and the explanation was eminently practical. These were aimed particularly at broadcasting situations so that awareness of end-of-side distortion could be minimised. A work spread over two single-sided discs would begin at the less satisfactory centre of the first disc and

play to the outer rim. The second disc would begin at the outer rim and play towards the centre, so that the change-over would bring no sudden deterioration in audio quality. A number of novelty items on disc contribute an element of social history to the collection. These include Durium discs made from plastic sheets on cardboard; celluloid ‘Voice-O-Graph’ messages from US soldiers during the Second World War, recorded on location and sponsored by Gem Razors and Blades as ‘one of Gem’s contributions to the morale of America’s armed forces and the folks back home’; and instantaneous records from the 1930 s which enabled the public to make recordings for a shilling. Advertisements inform us that a cup of ‘Ovaltine’ is the secret key to beauty and a healthy night’s sleep, and in 1908, Columbia extolled the wonders of the double-sided disc: The Columbia double-disc record. Music on both sides, a different selection on each side. Two records for a few cents above the price of one. Double disc, double value, double wear, double everything except price. Don’t put your record money into any other.

A major strength of the collection is the high percentage of HMV twelve inch red label with the prefix DB and ten inch DAs. Brian was attracted to this label because of the HMV slogan which boasted ‘Greatest Voices, Greatest Recordings’. To a large extent this was perfectly true, but they were also the easiest discs to obtain in isolated New Zealand. For many years, discs issued by the EMI conglomerate of Regal, Zonophone, HMV, Columbia, and Parlophone were all that could be purchased, especially during the Second World War. There had been pressing plants in Australia since 1926, with HMV in Sydney and Columbia at Homebush, but in 1932 all the EMI labels combined, and activities were centred at Homebush. Another major strength of the collection, therefore, is the number of Australian pressings that it contains, many of which were produced using the silent surface process. As early as 1923, Columbia had invented a production process that dramatically reduced the amount of shellac required to make a disc. A central core of graphite was covered on each flat surface with paper, and on top of this was placed a fine layer of high quality shellac. Because the whole disc no longer had to be made of shellac, the quality of the vital playing surface could be improved.

Columbia’s British factory failed to perfect the manufacture of this new product, producing more rejects than saleable discs, and the idea was scrapped. However, the process was still in use when the Homebush plant was set up. Australia had all the required chemicals to hand and the success rate was improved to a commercially viable level. Consequently, the Australian discs had less surface noise than their British equivalents, so Brian collected Australian pressings whenever

possible. The Columbia label makes up the second largest component of the collection, followed by Regal, Parlophone and, after the Second World War, Polydor and Decca. Another strength of the collection is the number of‘society’ recordings obtained by Brian over the years. From around 1931 to 1940 record companies found that by issuing sets on a subscription basis they could anticipate market demand, guarantee sales and stimulate the habit of regular record buying among the public. During the difficult years of the Depression this made sense to both manufacturer and consumer. In the Salkeld Collection this aspect of record history is well represented by sets of Beethoven piano sonatas (played by Schnabel), Delius orchestral works, Mozart operas, Brahms, Schubert and Wolf lieder, Haydn string quartets, Sibelius orchestral works, Kilpinen songs, Bach organ works (played by Schweitzer), and music by Bax and Purcell.

The spoken word has not been neglected in this collection, and the voices of many distinguished men and women have been preserved on shellac, vinyl LP or cassette. The collection is particularly strong on writers including Max Beerbohm, Hugh Walpole, Vita SackvilleWest, George Bernard Shaw, Evelyn Waugh, Harold Nicolson, Christopher Isherwood, Arthur Conan Doyle, and many others. The sheer size and scope of the collection in the Sound and Music Centre ensures that we have a thorough historical perspective on performance styles, recording techniques, and popular tastes of the past ninety years.

PLAYING MACHINES Despite being an avid collector of discs, Brian had less interest in collecting a range of machines on which to play them, mainly because of a shortage of space and money. Then, in Christchurch he unexpectedly came across a 1924 Lumiere Pleated Diaphragm —a fairly rare item since the model was in production for only twelve months. Further discoveries in Wellington, Auckland and Christchurch enabled him to expand the collection at minimal cost, usually because secondhand dealers had little idea of the value of these machines. The following list, arranged chronologically, gives details of the playing machines donated to the National Library:

1908 Edison Red Gem Phonograph 1909 HMV Bijou Concert Grand 1912 Edison Concert Machine 1924 HMV Lumiere Pleated Diaphragm 1924 HMV Table Model Gramophone 1928 HMV Portable Gramophone 1932 EMG Hand-made Gramophone

THE ALEXANDER TURNBULL LIBRARY COLLECTION All recordings with a New Zealand connection, either through performer, composer, author, or recording company, have been deposited with the Alexander Turnbull Library. This amounts to more than 220 items comprising commercial and private recordings, test pressings and off air checks of some radio programmes. Brian’s personal papers have also been deposited with the Turnbull Library. 1 Of course, the earliest recordings featuring New Zealand artists were made overseas, and Brian’s collection includes examples of the art of Irene Ainsley, Frances Alda, Rosina Buckman, Adelaide Van Staveren, and Nora d’Argel. There is also one cylinder of composer Alexander F. Lithgow conducting the New York Military Band in a performance of his New Zealand March. The pianist Lili Kraus, who was granted New Zealand citizenship for her ‘unrelenting efforts in the aid of countries in need’, is also well represented with thirty-eight discs.

In 1928 the Australian branch of Parlophone sent engineers to Rotorua to record Maori performers, including the Rotorua Maori Choir. These items are of particular interest because they could well be the last acoustic discs cut in the world; the microphone had already been in use for at least three years! Perhaps the rarest items in the collection are those by Ainsley and Buckman, but two Australian Columbia test pressings of 1928, featuring Barend Harris, are also important. Harris was the possessor of a fine bass-baritone voice, and one of the earliest artists from Australia to undertake a radio sponsored tour of New Zealand. During his visit he decided to settle in New Zealand and obtained work in broadcasting as a programme organiser for commercial stations.

Brian Salkeld has never been one to live in the past, and his collection building has kept pace with technological developments in the recording industry. The long-playing record was greeted with delight in the early 1950 s as Decca, French HMV and Columbia discs infiltrated the shops. Videos and compact discs have received a similar response and are beginning to form the nucleus of another collection. In his work for radio Brian has always been fascinated by advances in audio technology. During his years in Hamilton he discovered that a technician on the staff owned one of the new LP pickups. Armed with a brand new set of Wagner’s Parsifal on vinyl, the two men were responsible for what may have been the first broadcast of an LP record in this country. Earlier in this article I mentioned the Nimbus ambisonic process of transcribing recordings for reissue on compact disc, and it will come as no surprise to learn that Brian, like many others, has been

experimenting in this area for many years. His first attempt was a transcription of Coleridge-Taylor’s The Death of Minnehaha, played on the EMG machine, and recorded by a single microphone placed centrally in front of the horn. The result was a recording of clarity and depth, with no harshness and a 100 percent improvement on the sound produced by the EMG. The same procedure has been followed many times and the transcriptions used on air, most notably in the broadcast of the acoustic recording of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly featuring Rosina Buckman.

Finally, a word about the future of the Salkeld Collections within the National Library. Privately produced recordings deposited in the Alexander Turnbull Library have been documented in the form of a preliminary list until computerised, while commercial recordings are accessible on the New Zealand Bibliographic Network (NZBN). Recordings are stored in controlled atmospheric conditions, and are transferred in due course onto reel-to-reel tape of archival quality. From these preservation tapes, cassette listening copies are made available for use within the library. The original recordings are not played again. The majority of the Salkeld Collection consists of non-New Zealand material and is housed on specially designed metal record shelving close to the Sound and Music Centre. This is a working collection, and recordings can be played on demand, although in some cases it may be necessary to protect the original by making a transcription copy for repeated listening. Discs cannot be borrowed from the National Library but, providing all copyright regulations are met, it may be possible to supply cassette copies of discs to meet outside requests.

One of the biggest problems facing the Sound and Music Centre is to provide access to the collection. Discs are shelved in ten and twelve inch sequences by manufacturer’s name and catalogue number. There is no composer/performer/title access, except via a published catalogue such as The World’s Encyclopaedia of Recorded Music or the multitude of manufacturers’ catalogues. A basic on-line catalogue exists for the 6000 compact discs already held by the Sound and Music Centre, and a project is currently underway to add details of approximately 10,000 LPs to the same database. When this has been completed, work will begin on the Salkeld Collection. In the meantime, the best catalogue of the collection remains in the head of Brian Salkeld, whose encyclopaedic knowledge of these recordings and their significance is proving to be of vital importance to the efficient management of the collection. Fortunately, Brian takes a keen interest in its welfare, and continues not only to seek out important recordings which will fill gaps, but also to verify recording details where necessary. In this way he has become an unofficial

Honorary Consultant to the National Library sound collections. In a typically self-effacing biographical note supplied as an aid to writing this article, Brian Salkeld wrote: Whilst it was the musical entertainment which first proved so interesting to me, it was the broader spectrum of human activity captured on gramophone records that gradually began to register. Politics, literature, sports, occasions both great and small, were all there to be searched out and treasured; human endeavours that extended far beyond the musical expressions of various cultures, though they were diverse enough. The history of the medium itself, with its scientific advances in the clarity of recorded sound and the various media on which the sounds could be stored, was a constant source of investigation and wonder. Through his generosity, enthusiasm and knowledge, Brian Salkeld has ensured that the opportunity to investigate and wonder will be available to future generations in New Zealand.

REFERENCES 1 Salkeld, Brian H. Papers and sound recordings. Acc. 88-53, Acc. 88-246 Alexander Turnbull Library.