Autoethnographical? Autobiographical? Reflective?

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Well, the ‘Scottish Entertainment’ took place yesterday – attended by sixty to seventy people, if you include our [small] choir. A great time was had by all. There was lots of community singing, along with a couple of choir items, and a smattering of solo items (two spoken, two sung solos, and the concertina.)  And, of course, haggis, neeps and tatties in the middle of the entertainment.  Our pastoral care committee organised the whole event  – I just coordinated the entertainment bit!

It wasn’t a research event, and I can’t exactly call it public engagement – it wasn’t in any sense designed for, or linked with, my research. (Although, as I’ve mentioned, my little introductions were informed by my research!) So, I don’t think I can call this autoethnographical or practice-based research, but I can certainly reflect upon the whole experience.

Timing

I planned two equal ‘halves’ for either side of the meal. It wasn’t a full-scale meal, as such, but I underestimated how much time we’d spend eating. The first half of the entertainment was almost spot-on: we only had to leave one item until after the meal. However, the second ‘half’ had to be significantly cut back (mostly by omitting verses) – so I could really have made it a good bit shorter.

Feedback

The feedback was gratifying. Our repertoire went down well, as did the solos.  I shall respect the soloists’ privacy, so I won’t elaborate further on that point. 

My own debut as a soloist surprised me as much as everyone else, though.  ‘I didn’t know you sang’, someone said. ‘Nor did I – I’ve never sung a solo in public before!’

I chose a song within my range, and the concertina piece was likewise as simple as I could find!  Considering that I took up the concertina during lockdown, with the deliberate aim of having a ‘folk’ instrument for just such an occasion, it was gratifying to be able to play to an appreciative audience.

People were still talking about the event today, which was lovely to hear.

Repertoire

Remember that I did a BBC Scotland radio interview 13 months ago, discussing the top ten Scottish songs of nowadays, the results of a Visit Scotland survey? I didn’t even consult that list for our own afternoon entertainment. There was some, but not a lot of overlap – but I’m happy that the songs chosen by myself and the choir, went down well with our audience.  We had a few Burns songs, a few from the early 20th century, some from the middle and a couple from towards the end of it.

And if we were to  do another event, well, there’s still that Visit Scotland list to draw on!  There is bound to be variation, depending on the sample of people surveyed – whether they are young or old, whether they had children or taught children in schools, and so on.

Sheeps Heads? The Mind Boggles!

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
One sheep peeps over the backs of the rest of the flock

I have literally thousands of typed carbon copies to wade through, in my current research.  I’m looking for gems relating to a handful of music titles that this publisher produced.

Going through archives, it’s not uncommon to find wee gems – like the author who left his swimming trunks behind after a morning swim … (don’t ask!)

Or someone that an editor thinks his colleague might like to meet:-

You will find him uncommonly intelligent and possibly useful […]

Not to mention a rejected manuscript, described as,

The Scots description “cauld kale het again”. [Translation available on request.]

But today we have another conundrum. The publishing editor for the juvenile list decided not to proceed with a book that apparently combined music and art in some way, declaring that,

‘I felt that sheep’s heads are better in broth than served up eight to a bar.’

Or did she mean, eight to a baa-aa?

If only I could see the rejected manuscript to see what she meant! However, this was 1947, and the book went unpublished. I don’t think the author had any more luck elsewhere!

Scholarly Satan: a Sneaky Devil

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Pink fluffy devil with halo

Dutifully, I booked a morning off because we were anticipating the advent of a roofer at home, and I didn’t want to be torn between roofing conversations and research work. The afternoon was my own, apart from a couple of rescheduled meetings at the end of the day. (There wouldn’t be anyone on the roof by then, surely.)

‘Anticipating’ was the word I just used, and it was just that. The storms a few weeks ago played havoc with more roofs than our own. Anyway, here I sat, two laptops in front of me, nothing happening on our roof, and Scholarly Satan started tugging at my conscience.

  • “You could sort out your timesheets, you know.”
  • “You can reschedule that tutorial. Do It Now.”
  • “You’ve got to update your CV, haven’t you? You LOVE formatting documents and getting the bullet-points and punctuation just right.”
  • “Oooh, look, you can action that email straight away – wouldn’t it feel good to be so on-the-ball?”

And then came his masterstroke.

“This is Scholarly Stuff, you know. There’s nothing sinful about Scholarly Stuff.” Which is true, of course, apart from the fact that I wasn’t meant to be working! Anyway, it’s now 4 pm, and I propose to walk away from the laptops for half an hour, until the last and only official duties of the day. I fear I’m too old to mend my ways now.

Robert Wilson, Scottish Singer and Entrepreneur

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

I wrote this post last year, but for some reason never actually posted. Not to worry – now is the time to share it!

You could say Robert Wilson had Scottish music publishing just about tied up in Glasgow.  As his singing career began to wane, he bought up James S. Kerr’s and Frank Simpson’s, also co-founding Thistle Records from his premises in Berkeley Street. Not bad going, eh? Oh, and he also owned a travel company, which is less surprising considering his own worldwide travelling as a singer – he must have gained quite a bit of insight into the travel business. An informed, on-the-ground (or water, or airborne) interest, you could say.

After his death, the remaining shareholders of Kerr’s Corporation later acquired Mozart Allan’s AND Bayley & Ferguson’s backlists, too.

Wilson began a career as an apprentice draftsman, but after redundancy, started out as a singer. He sang with the Rothesay Entertainers, joined the D’Oyly Carte Opera Company Chorus between 1931-7 and then embarked upon his solo career, specialising in middle of the road Scottish song, but not limiting himself exclusively to this repertoire. Here he is, recorded by Pathe Films at the start of his solo career.

Annie Laurie (Maxwellton Braes are Bonnie)

If you’ve got a bit more time, here’s a ‘Voice of Scotland Short’ – a biopic lasting nearly an hour,with musical performances:-

Robert Wilson – Voice of Scotland Short

‘A Tribute to Robert Wilson’, with:-

  • Kenneth McKellar
  • Eliot Dobie
  • Jimmy Shand
  • Andy Stewart
  • Will Starr and Accordion
  • Cliff Hanley
  • Harry Carmichael
  • Sydney McEwan
  • Additional material by Bob Wright of Girvan

Header Image of ‘The Road Bridge to Bonnie Dundee’ from EBay

I have a forthcoming magazine article with more about Robert Wilson, of which I will give full details when it’s published in the near future.

You can read more about Scottish music in bygone days in my recent book:-

A History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity: Scotland’s Printed Music 1880-1951

Thinking about the Forthcoming Entertainment  …

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

On LinkedIn, public-speaking coach Alex Merry recently posted these tips on making a great presentation. It occurs to me that some of these tips will be equally applicable to the Scottish song entertainment that I’m leading later this month.

Alex Merry’s Presentation Tips

In my case, it’s not a presentation at all – I just need to introduce the songs we’re singing.  So it’s categorically not about me. But I do need to be lively and relatable.  Start with a short sentence and a pause? I hadn’t thought of that, but it should be easy to factor in.

Fun? Oh, yes. I have a few ideas! 💡 Well, props, really. I’m going to need one of those big, reusable supermarket bags.  And I have an abundance of stories, so that’s all right.

My only problem is this: I’m a bit embarrassed about my Englishness.  I’ve lived in Scotland more than half my life.  Scottish national music is my specialism, and I’m secure in my subject – but this is a fun entertainment, not a demonstration of knowledge, and my accent is all wrong.  So … do I bring attention to it jokingly, or put it to the back of my mind? My personal view is that you should never draw attention to your weaknesses.  What would you do?  Stuart Chater on LinkedIn makes a good argument for NOT being ashamed of your accent.

And the song I’m going to sing? (It wasn’t my idea, someone asked me.)  It’s short. It’s within my vocal range. But I can no more sound Scottish than fly!

Someone please tell me I’m over-thinking this!

Discount Code for my New Book – 7 Weeks Left

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Just a wee reminder  – the discount code for my new monograph expires in seven weeks, on 31 March 2025.  Don’t miss it!

A Social History of Amateur Music-Making and Scottish National Identity: Scotland’s Printed Music, 1880-1951

A Non-Research Event

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Remember un-conferences? They were popular a few years ago.

Well, now I’m co-ordinating a Scottish song event, but it’s for entertainment, and not remotely connected with my research. Does that make it an ‘un-research’ event? Anything I might say about these songs will have been learned during my research career.  (I  grew up in England – it wasn’t my childhood repertoire.) 

Community Singing

It’s interesting, all the same.  For a start, I am interested in community singing in an early-twentieth-century sense, but my own practical experience of secular community singing is limited. The forthcoming gig may well trigger new trains of thought. (Let’s discount leading congregational singing from the organ, which I’ve done for decades.)

Repertoire

The preparation has been interesting, too. We have collectively chosen the repertoire: some old, some from the 1950s and 60s, and some that our children would have learnt at school.  It bears out my findings that the repertoire of favourite Scottish songs does change with every generation. 

We’re also channelling Sir Hugh Roberton and his Orpheus Singers for a couple of choral items, but an even earlier choral arrangement felt too dated.  You have to know about the west of Scotland’s intimate acquaintance with Roberton’s repertoire to appreciate why those settings go down so well to this day.  Somehow, his particular brand of close SATB singing has endured in a nostalgic kind of way, where earlier settings have fallen by the wayside.

Authenticity

It gets better.  We’ve debated different versions of the lyrics, and odd discrepancies in tunes.  In other words, we re-enacted all the chatter about authenticity and correct versions that has been rolling on for, shall we say, 250 years or more?

And the Squeezeboxes?

Accordion

I debated with myself whether to go all authentic with an accordion accompaniment in appropriate songs, but I don’t think I’m that brave.  Singing a solo is brave. A couple of concertina tunes is positively reckless. But the accordion is probably getting left at home. (Although, if you listen carefully between now and then, you might catch me attempting a few strains of ‘The Song of the Clyde’ in private … Jimmy Shand I’m certainly not!)

This is a new adventure for me.  More anon.

A Thought-Provoking History Scotland Webinar

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Leisure and Pleasure – Everyday life in Second World War Scotland

I don’t often sign up to webinars, but something so closely aligned to my own current research was irresistible.

The History Scotland webinar series is promoted by the History Department at the University of Dundee. The guest speaker today was Dr Michelle Moffat of Manchester Metropolitan University.

And what did I learn? Leisure pursuits didn’t stop in wartime, especially going to the cinema.  This is worth knowing.  (However,  I must be careful not to assume things were exactly the same everywhere.  It makes me wonder about central London, for example, where people might have felt more threatened. )

There was also interesting detail about rationing and food shortages, and discussion about how much people in Scotland felt the war was ‘their’ war. (I suspect anyone who had relatives fighting overseas would  very much have felt indirectly part of it.)

And a reminder about the Mass Observation Archive.  I had forgotten about this, but it’s a crucial resource – I’m going to check it out with some questions that I hope it might help with!

Eyes on Stalks: a Day with the Archives

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Last Friday, I submitted an article.  Yesterday, I did the minor edits for an accepted article and dispatched that, too.

And today, I headed to Edinburgh and resumed my archival pursuits.  The city was initially bathed in golden sunshine, though this didn’t even last until lunchtime.  It is certainly a very beautiful city.

Nearly spring in Edinburgh?

Unless you’ve experienced it, you can’t imagine how many brown folders of thin carbon copies will fit into an archival box. Carbon copies are as thin as airmail writing paper.  The bulk of this particular box consists of NINETEEN folders of rejection letters just for one year,  1948.

You might think I didn’t need to concern myself about books they didn’t publish,  but you never know what snippets about publishing policy or the economic climate – or anything else! – might turn up.  (And you’d be surprised at the number of would-be authors who didn’t take a definite refusal AS a definite refusal, but kept writing to argue their case!)

‘Do Forward the Bathing Costume’

That was an unexpected postscript, in one of the letters that wasn’t a rejection.  The publisher and author had evidently gone to the swimming baths, and the author went home without his trunks! Irrelevant, but it’s undoubtedly evidence they were on friendly terms, isn’t it?

I did discover – unneccessarily, but amusingly – that in the late nineteenth century, the managing director of this publishing house used to go open-air swimming in Leith before work in the summer. Clearly the tradition had either continued, or been revived, with the opening of the Portobello open-air pool in 1936 …