Dr Karen McAulay explores the history of Scottish music collecting, publishing and national identity from the 18th to 20th centuries. Research Fellow at Royal Conservatoire of Scotland, author of two Routledge monographs.
I made this cloth book after I’d finished the ‘Claimed from Stationers Hall’ research project. Something was missing, though: it lacked explanatory captions. This week, I revised it and corrected my omission!
Click here to visit a blog post that I wrote for St Andrews University Library, in 2016.
Whilst waiting to get started with my next project, I’ve been doing a bit more research into individuals who only had a marginal role in my previous projects, but looked interesting in their own right, too.
But if I have one quality which is sometimes a failing, it’s my refusal to accept that sometimes the information is simply not there to be found. My librarianship background is somewhat to blame. If I can’t find something, it feels tantamount to an admission of defeat. And I don’t like being beaten.
I’ve been on a wild goose chase this afternoon, though. I knew the poetry collections I was seeking were rare. It was totally improbable that I would walk into a couple of secondhand bookshops and find either of them. Yes, they were published in Scotland – 150 years ago. The poet (‘poetess’ or ‘authoress’ in her own day) comes across as an interesting woman with informed opinions about women’s status, and since she was the mother of one of ‘my’ woman composers, I thought she merited more attention. However, there was no trace of her this afternoon. Luckily, I have tracked down library copies, so all is not lost. I will get to see them – I just won’t have my own copies!
Even the consolatory coffee was a bit of a damp squib. I had the choice of standing and waiting in a haphazard queue, or going elsewhere to squeeze into a seat between people who really needed the space my seat was occupying. Oh, well. I had an outing. And I managed not to spill my coffee when I got bumped by the customers on either side!
However, I’ve had more luck at home, with my other quest.
‘Beyond a few slender facts [ … ], virtually no information about him seems to have survived.’
So said the authors of a book celebrating the 150th anniversary of our institution, a few years ago.
Of course, we have more information at our fingertips these days, so I’ve been trying to build up more of a profile of the Athenaeum Principal who only stayed in post for two years. I now know a lot more about him – though not yet the reason for his resignation. He was well qualified, a good pianist, and was the organist for several churches in England, Scotland and overseas.
His resignation from the Athenaeum wasn’t the only time he resigned from a post. Indeed, one church went into a little more detail, saying he lacked tact. Their choir had already reportedly a hard time with his predecessor, though – maybe the choir itself was tricky!
I haven’t ruled out discovering more. But I am rather gratified by what I have found so far!
Remember last May, I blogged about which of my articles had attracted the most ‘hits’?
The Value of Using a Sensible, Meaningful Title
I learnt the hard way that words with more than one meaning can attract unwarranted attention. ‘Se*y’ has a different meaning in marketing, to the more usual connotations. There must have been a lot of disappointed visitors when they realised that I was ‘reveal’-ing nothing more than the importance of a good bibliography!
Well, I blogged about a research project last week. There was another red-flag word, and guess what happened to this blog’s stats?
See the stats have dropped again? I went in and edited out the red-flag!
Maybe tomorrow I’ll try another experiment, but not today. I want to let the stats settle …
On Wednesday, I was more than happy to attend as an advisory board member for the first board meeting of the University of Sussex’s PromiscuousPrint research project. The website explains what it’s all about:-
A research project about what UK copyright libraries left out in the nineteenth century. Funded by the European Research Council. Hosted by the Sussex Digital Humanities Lab.
Led by Dr Hannah Field.
Dr Field is the principal investigator of PromPrint; she is an associate professor in Victorian literature at the University of Sussex. She’s joined by doctoral researcher, Tiffany Murphy, also at the University of Sussex, and two Digital Humanities scholars, Dr Nicolas Seymour-Smith and Dr Milan Terlunen (also at Sussex).
It’s rather nice to have the opportunity to think about copyright libraries again. My own Claimed from Stationers Hall network feels quite a while ago now! (Remember?)
A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that my RMA Research Chronicle article was now available online as open access. Today, it’s actually in the published issue. Receiving this email is a great start to the day:-
“your article, ‘Women Pursuing Musical Careers: Finding Opportunities in Late Nineteenth- and Early Twentieth-Century Scottish Music Publishing Circles’, has now been published in Royal Musical Association Research Chronicle! You can view your article at https://doi.org/10.1017/rrc.2025.10009 “
What’s this?, I hear you ask. Why would a musicologist write about tourism? Well, it’s like this: one of the song book titles that I explored in last year’s monograph, The Glories of Scotland, really deserved more space than I could give it in a monograph devoted to a nation’s music publishing. However, the opportunity came up to contribute a chapter to a Peter Lang Publication, Print and Tourism: Travel-Related Publications from the Sixteenth to the Twentieth Century, edited by Catherine Armstrong and Elaine Jackson.
Today, I received the final proofs, which means that the book itself can’t be very far away. I really enjoyed writing this chapter – you could say that it’s decidedly more about publishing history, and tourism, than conventional musicology – and I really look forward to it actually being published.
My chapter (19 pages):-
‘The Glories of Scotland in Picture and Song’: Jumping on the Festival of Britain Bandwagon?’
I’m not writing about scholarship today. Indeed, this is more a case of, ‘Don’t do as I do …’
Now, having very elderly and neuro-divergent family members will make any upheaval twice as traumatic. It was. Keep this in mind.
Between 4 and 10 pm yesterday, I emptied 12 boxes and cooked dinner. Testosterone Towers can’t wait for order to be restored out of chaos. It will happen. (I may be ‘ridiculous’, ‘getting worse as I age’ and ‘a stupid old woman’, but I have my uses. Apparently, none of this was said.* I must be losing my marbles, too.)
Although we had expected a couple of ceilings to be fully repainted, which weren’t, I have to say that the painter’s partial solution was masterful. The highlight of my morning today? Waking to this:-
Never was I happier to look up at a white ceiling. (Even if other parts of it are less pristine!)
I cannot think about research just yet. I don’t need to, today or most of tomorrow. My mind is still frazzled, and there’s major tidying to do. But hopefully a nicer environment will make for a calmer mind.
(Now, where’s the hot water bottle for my back?)
We academics are good at writing reviews. I wrote a fair, but honest review of the work done. The ongoing outcome is a bit of a nightmare, and I’m still living it. Shall we just say, it was not well-received. Some things are best left off social media, so I’ll leave it at that for now.
*This is gaslighting. These things have been said.
I didn’t take organ music with me today. The church got ‘Green grow the rashes, O’ (I’d transcribed that from a recording); and the rest from memory:- ‘Afton Water’; ‘My luve is like a red, red rose’; ‘When you and I were young’; ‘Ae fond kiss’; and ‘Comin’ thro’ the rye’.
Well, it’s Burns Night!
This Saturday, 24 January, is virtually Burns’ Night, so what better afternoon to have A Celebration of Burns at the Central Library of Dundee? I understand we were fully booked, but those lucky enough to have obtained a ticket had a great afternoon. Click on the link (as long as it’s still there) to see the line-up.
And I finished up the event with a singalong of three favourite songs by Robert Burns – not bad for a girl from Norfolk! If I play, and everyone else sings, my English accent is well-concealed …
But what are the three songs?
Burns’ version of this pre-existing song appeared in the Scots Musical Museum song collection in the late 18th century. It was included in several school song books in the 20th century, and remains popular to this day.
CHORUS: Green grow the rashes, O; Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend, Are spent amang the lasses, O.
1. There’s nought but care on ev’ry han’, In ev’ry hour that passes, O:
What signifies the life o’ man, An’ ’twere na for the lasses, O.
Green …
2. The war’ly race may riches chase, – An’ riches still may fly them, O;
An’ tho’ at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne’er enjoy them, O.
Green …
3. Gie me a cannie hour at e’en, My arms about my dearie, O;
An’ war’ly cares, an’ war’ly men, May a’ gae tapsalteerie, O!
Green …
4. For you sae douce, ye sneer at this; Ye’re nought but senseless asses, O:
The wisest man the warl’ e’er saw, He dearly lov’d the lasses, O.
Green …
5. Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O:
Her prentice han’ she try’d on man, An’ then she made the lasses, O.
Green …
There was a very famous soprano called Flora Woodman (1896-1981), who was born in London of Scottish parents. For some years, this was practically her signature tune – she sang it a couple of hundred times.
But why? I discovered that there had been a novel called Comin’ thro’ the Rye, written by novelist Helen Mather back in 1875. The heroine sings this song as she walks through a rye-field; that’s the only connection with the song.
But the story became a silent movie in autumn 1916 – months after Flora started singing it. The film was so popular that the film producer remade it in 1923. Flora was still singing the song – probably because the film had popularised it – but the film went out of fashion when the first talkie, The Jazz Singer, came out in 1927, and Flora began to sing the song less often.
As for the words – the clean words – you won’t be surprised to learn that even this version didn’t make it into any school books of Scottish songs!
1. Gin a body meet a body Comin’ thro’ the rye, Gin a body kiss a body, Need a body cry?
Chorus: Ilka lassie has her laddie, Nane, they say, hae I, Yet a’ the lads they smile at me, When comin’ thro’ the rye.
2. Gin a body meet a body Comin’ frae the town, Gin a body kiss a body, Need a body frown? Chorus
3. Gin a body meet a body, Comin’ frae the well, Gin a body kiss a body, Need a body tell? Chorus
4. ‘Mang the train there is a swain I dearly lo’e myself, But what his name or whaur his hame, I dinna care to tell. Chorus
Our last song needed no introduction!
1. Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And the days o’ auld lang syne?
Chorus: For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne.
2. And here’s a hand, my trusty fiere, And gie’s a hand o’ thine; And we’ll tak’ a right guid willie-waught For the days o’ auld lang syne. Chorus.
I received an invitation in connection with my next research project. It was irresistible in research terms – and I needed no excuse to be out of Testosterone Towers and away from the redecorating project.
I found the east coast much windier and wetter city than the west. (Windproof brolly, my foot! I rocked the fashionable drowned rat look instead.) It was darkish when I arrived around 9.38, and is darkish now at 12.20.
I’m still entangled in ethical approval procedures, so this was an observational experience rather than ‘data gathering’. Worthwhile, nonetheless, and a reminder to myself that what I’m researching involves, and involved, real people in real time.
Yes, I did stop off in my favourite coffee shop on my way back to the station. (Wouldn’t you?)
And now I need to type up some ‘first impressions’, in the most general sense.
‘Work Expands to Fit the Time Available’?
Mr Parkinson, you’re so wrong!
Parkinson’s Law was apparently a saying coined by Cyril Parkinson in 1955. But today, I’m watching time expand to fit the work available, rather than the other way round. In our case, the work we expected to take four or five days, began at the end of one week, ran through last week and is still ongoing halfway through this present week. And I’m the site manager – but only insofar as I’m chasing up workmen and trying to keep the residents of Testosterone Towers happy.
You mean we have to keep looking at THIS?
Aged people and neuro-divergent people really do struggle with chaos and uncertainty, and there are bucketloads of chaos and uncertainty round here. It makes them uncomfortable and on edge.
Fortunately, I work part-time. The rest of my time is being spent making futile attempts to keep everything else under control. Testosterone Towers’ residents have clean, dry, ironed clothes. They can see as much carpet in our lounge as the slow progress of the work elsewhere will permit. (I can’t put things back in their rightful places whilst there are still dustsheets, plentiful dust, and ongoing work all over the place.)
The residents are fed on time (because one of the residents is comforted by timetables); and the supermarket shopping is still happening to the usual plan. I’ve been using oven-ready meals.
What is harder for me is endeavouring not to annoy the most easily annoyed resident. As for keeping tabs on the project, my struggle is to keep a balance: enough for my efforts to be perceived as diligent, without actually annoying the working people I’d rather not offend!
I’ve booked a cleaning team for next Tuesday. But will they be able to come then? Watch this space.
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
Karen McAulay, Musicologist 