One Side of a Conversation

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

From the 56 or so files I’ve examined up to now, the Thomas Nelson archives generally save copies of the letters that went out from the offices – but not the incoming replies.  They reveal one side of a conversation.

So today, I was able to read letters to James Easson and Herbert Wiseman about the third and fourth Scots Song Books, but I couldn’t see how they reacted or responded.  I need to look at the finished books again, but I may not necessarily be able to determine if they took on board the impeccably polite and respectful points raised about the texts they had used.  I haven’t got the annotated proofs that were sent to Easson,  or his reply. 

As you will see from the enclosed, there are certain discrepancies, mostly small ones, between your text and the text as given in the various authorities. 

I wonder if he had anticipated the lengths to which his new editor would go – visiting libraries and consulting authoritative editions – to ensure the texts were accurate?! Lengths, I might add, which are entirely consistent with what I’ve learned about the editor!

What is clear, though, is that these books were very carefully compiled, and just as painstakingly edited.

I am very anxious to get these points settled now before the MS goes for setting.

I still have a number of files to examine – and until I see them, I won’t know which departments they are from. I wonder when I’ll catch up with the meticulous editor again?!

Image by Peter H from Pixabay

Singing in Public? New to me!

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
George Square Edinburgh University

A few weeks ago, I led a community ‘Scottish song’ event. I found myself singing a solo – well, to say ‘found myself ‘ is inaccurate, because I HAD planned and rehearsed it with a pianist.

But it seemed to go down well enough, so, emboldened by this, I sang a couple of examples from Nelson’s Scots Song Book at my Work in Progress talk on Wednesday.  This time, I prerecorded my accompaniment myself. (Three cheers for the decent mic I had purchased during lockdown!)

I reminded myself that my esteemed audience were a mixture of musicians and non-musicians, and I was there as a researcher rather than a star turn, so hopefully they’d listen kindly rather than critically! 

And it was fine. I suppose the more often you do something, the easier it gets. I have played in public, conducted in public, and sung in a choir numerous times, but singing solo? That’s something new.

I have another talk coming up in a few weeks.  Of the two songs I sang this week, I much preferred one to the other  – the range was more comfortable. So I looked through NSSB4 again last night, and hit upon a favourite – ‘I’ll aye ca’ in by yon toun.’ I took it to the piano for a first play through. Yes, I like Easson’s setting.  It’s reasonably modern, and playable.

At this point  – just as I’d finished the chorus – I was obliged to stop.

‘But, I was  …’

You’d be alarmed at how routine governs my activities.  No point causing upset by continuing to play, so the song will wait for another time. Supper couldn’t wait!

However, I thought I’d look for a YouTube rendition, to accompany my breakfast this morning, and what did I find, but a Topic recording of Jean Redpath performing it in the American Serge Hovey’s setting.  I never heard Jean sing live, but she got an honorary DMus from the University of Glasgow (my Alma Mater), and her enthusiasm for Scottish song was influenced by her time at the University of Edinburgh – as I sit with a cuppa in the Library cafe, I’m literally looking out at the School of Scottish Studies building where she’d have talked with Hamish Henderson.

I’ll aye ca’ in by yon toun

Having heard Redpath’s beautiful singing, I am less sure that my singing is a good idea, but there’s only one way I can share Easson’s setting, and that’s by playing it. Which, without a singer, wouldn’t work at all. I’d better get practising!

Seminar, Weds 26 March, 1pm:- Perusing the Papers from Thomas Nelson and Sons’ Parkside Works (Research into Nelson’s Scots Song Book – Work in Progress)

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay
Through the archway into the courtyard at IASH

As I’ve mentioned, I’m currently Heritage Collections Research Fellow at IASH, the Institute for Advanced Studies in the Humanities, at the University of Edinburgh. All guest fellows are invited to give a work-in-progress seminar, and it’s my turn on Wednesday 26 March at 1 pm. You can attend in person, or online – more details on the link below. The abstract tells you what my talk is about.

Abstract and Zoom link

I’ll explain what I’m looking for, and introduce you to some of the individuals I’ve been finding out about.  The one thing I can’t predict, is whether I shall by then have found the answer to my prime question!

Nelson's Parkside Works - old engraving
Hope Park Square, home of IASH
The ArchivesHub entry for the collection

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!

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 …

Highland Archive Centre – Conan Bridge School, 1880s

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Another Covid-ridden short from me today. See if you can see what excited me about these images of Conan Bridge School inventory …

Highland Archive Centre Facebook Posting 31 Aug 2024

Comfort Zones were Stretched Today

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

Whilst I was going through archival materials today, looking for music-related documentation, I came across all sorts of non-musical correspondence. I wasn’t surprised. Sometimes, it’s rather nice to see what falls out of Pandora’s box, after all. All the ‘extra’ material vastly enriches the ultimate narrative. And other tidbits just raise a smile:-

Parisian pavement cafe
Parisian pavement cafe
Raasay, Western Isles
  • I found one publisher offering to order whisky from an Inverness wine-dealer for another publisher holidaying in Raasay. Very fraternal!
  • I found someone looking forward to ‘frizzling in Paris’. (Considering Glasgow’s set to be 4 degrees Celsius tonight -in mid June – I can empathise!)
  • Then there was a job application letter. No clues as to the manager’s selection rationale – things were very different then – just, pencilled across the top – NO.
  • I found a terse letter from a professor who was distinctly unimpressed by the unavailability of a book (no, not a music book) that he wanted to purchase:-
Perturbed Professor

‘It’s damnable that such a valuable, well-written & cogent book should be off the market.’

But in 1947-1948, Britain was in economic crisis. There were restrictions on business activities, and if a publisher decided a reprint was non-viable then that, dear Professor, was that. Tough.  (I wanted to tell him that eBay and Alibris would have helped alleviate his evident distress.)

I found travelling salesmen being asked if they wanted any books from a particular series. Music-related ones, even? I sat up straight at that, until I realised that the subtext was probably, ‘these books aren’t selling terribly well, old chaps.’

It wasn’t until I got home that I got myself into deep water:-

I looked up what was happening to the British economy in 1947-1948. I knew there WAS a crisis. Britain was in recession.  I had never heard of ‘convertibility’ in the economic sense, and I find myself only slightly the wiser after a bit of Googling!  World War II had taken its  toll, and on top of this, the US had insisted on convertibility, it seems, and we very quickly descended into an almighty mess.  However, such a simplistic summary doesn’t sound exactly satisfactory.

I’m undecided whether I need an Oxford Short Introduction, or can I get by with a more basic understanding?  Oh well, plenty of time to ponder on that! (But if you’re a modern historian reading this, and you can think of something that would give me an intelligent layperson’s overview of post-war economics, then please do get in touch. Thank you!)

READING LIST?

  • Complete Idiot’s Guide to Economics
  • The Economics Book: Big Ideas Simply Explained 
  • Economics for Dummies
  • Rough Guide to Economics

Librarian in the Archives

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

There was a time long ago, whilst I was doing a postgraduate librarianship diploma in Aberystwyth, when we all had to go on a week’s study tour. I went to Sheffield, staying with friends, and visiting various libraries with my classmates.

A visit to some archives enchanted me. I can’t remember if they were regional archives or university ones, but those heavy bindings, scrolls, and all the modern accoutrements of white tapes, book cushions and weighted ‘snakes’ – not to mention the questions of conservation and  restoration – certainly seemed irresistible in that moment. I would love to have known that conservation was in itself a career.  I didn’t know.

On the other hand, I was forced to acknowledge that more legal conveyancing and inheritance documents survive than mediaeval music manuscripts.  And some materials looked unmistakably grubby when they reached the archive.  Besides, I was already on track for librarianship rather than archives.

Dusty Old Deans

I was half-amused, half-annoyed by a pearl of parental wisdom:-

You don’t want to be an archivist, dear. All you’ll meet is Dusty Old Deans.

Admittedly, I had not so long before been researching mediaeval music and visiting cathedral libraries. I hadn’t encountered a Dean, dusty or otherwise, whom I hadn’t found charming.

So many archives, so little time!

Anyway, I had no reason to visit archives for a couple of decades, until I recommenced researching. I’m no longer a mediaevalist. But Victorian and early 20th century archival materials have turned out to hold their own appeal. Archival correspondence is intriguing, even when it’s conveniently in legible typescript. The biggest attraction of retirement from librarianship  is the opportunity of far more research, and hopefully many more hours in archives. 

I wonder if there’s anywhere I could learn to do conservation  …. ?

Georgian Mending

A Syncopated Sensation

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

https://wp.me/p99Vwa-167

Here’s a story on the Dundee City Archives blog, involving our friends, Dundee music firm Methven Simpson in 1921. And a very special and innovative jazz band!

Two Worlds Meet

Posted on by Dr Karen E McAulay

News of a potentially interesting archival item triggers an attack of insatiable curiosity. I must confess that the musicologist is somewhat more triggered than the custodian!

So, I have a few questions that need answered. Where and when was the original owner born? When did they leave Scotland? What did their Scottish ancestry/identity mean to them?

And most importantly, was ‘Scottish’ music a significant part of their repertoire?

As I mentioned in earlier posts, my librarianship is amply qualified, and embodies four decades of expertise, but musicology and research came first. The musicologist is buried beneath the outer librarian, and can’t help bubbling to the surface when an intriguing possibility presents itself!

If I can answer these initial questions satisfactorily, then I’ll want to explore further. I think you can guess what I need to do this morning!

AND LATER …

Well, the original owner called themselves Scottish. But they were born in England of a Scottish mother. Should I order their birth certificate? It’s not cheap, and could arrive too late to be useful. But … !