Fellowship Announcements: not One, but Two

My final days as a librarian are characterised by a combination of exhaustion and adrenaline. This cough is determined to flatten me, but I’m equally determined to plan ahead for pastures new!

I woke, coughing, at 3.30 am yesterday.  In broad daylight, no less.  I reflected grimly that, whilst I didn’t deny believers their joy at the summer Solstice, I personally would have preferred to have greeted the sun a couple of hours later.  I coughed, made tea, and finally got up and read a book.

My decision came back and bit me in the heel later. I needed a wee power-nap at lunchtime. In the evening, I sat down to look at my new, 1951 catalogue (which came packaged in original 1966 wrapping, addressed to the last owner) in daylight … and woke to find myself sitting in the dark.  No disrespect to the original compilers; I was just exhausted.

It wasn’t just the Coughing

I wasn’t just tired out by coughing and sleeplessness. I’d had so much excitement that I think I was just suffering from an excess of adrenaline followed by the inevitable slump at the end of the day!

All my chickens metaphorically hatched yesterday.  I can now relate that, after a long time planning and waiting, I shall be starting my new, semi-retirement role with a new  job title, and I couldn’t be happier.  I have been promoted in semi-retirement!

Post Doctoral Research Fellow

As a Performing Arts Librarian, I was partially seconded as a postdoctoral researcher.  But you can’t be seconded if you don’t hold the original post any longer, so when I retire, I will have a new part-time contract with a new title and job description. This pleases me enormously.

And in 2025, a Heritage Collections Fellowship at IASH

I’m extremely proud to have just accepted a six-month fellowship at the University of Edinburgh, at the Institute of Advanced Studies in the Humanities. Between January and June next year, I’ll be researching the archival collection of papers from Thomas Nelson, the Edinburgh publisher.  There’s something singularly appropriate about a retired scholar librarian researching an archive in  another academic library, particularly such an eminent collection. I’m particularly pleased because one of my strengths is in placing what I’m researching into its wider cultural and historical context, and this massive collection of papers certainly offers plenty of scope for that. 

To begin with, there’s that new Audible book I bought the other day – nothing to do with Nelson, but hopefully giving me understanding about significant economic trends that would have impacted their trade.  (Just let me stop coughing enough to listen to it …!)

Material Evidence of Use: Music that was Loved

I accepted a generous donation of old books to the Library a couple of weeks ago. This presented me, personally, with a bit of a problem because our offices, furniture and contents are being moved around, and I had proudly emptied most of my shelves in readiness.  There will be fewer shelves in the other office.  And now I had two shelves full of old Scottish music  – right up my street – which needed cataloguing.

  • Most vital priority – get them done before I retire from the Library.
  • Almost as vital – to get them done before the move on Thursday next week!

Of course, the lovely thing is that they’re books I’ve encountered in various research contexts … the PhD; the Bass Culture project (https://HMS.Scot); the book chapter on subscriptions; and my own forthcoming monograph.

I catalogued like crazy on Thursday and Friday. I’ve catalogued Sammelbande (personal bound volumes) of songs, piano music and fiddle tunes. I’ve shown colleagues books signed by George Thomson.  I’ve indexed Gow’s strathspeys and reels. And yesterday I blogged about James Davie and his Caledonian Repository.

But I’ve also just enjoyed handling the music, because sometimes one finds some endearingly human evidence of the scores being used, even to the point of needing mending.  It’s quite touching to ponder how much a piece had been used, before it actually needed stitching – here, along a line where the edge of the printer’s block had originally left a dent in the paper:-

Stitched on one side, pasted on the other!

I’ve smiled at Georgian ladies’ stitched repairs to much-loved pieces, noticed with amusement a handful of early Mozart Allan books (yes, including some strathspeys and reels) in a fin-de-siecle Sammelband which had seen better days; spotted piano fingerings pencilled in; and best of all, found a tartan ribbon in a volume dedicated to the Duke of Sussex – his personal copy, which was first sold out of the family’s possession in 1844.  His library was dispersed after he died in straitened financial circumstances:-

Nine Scots Songs and three Duetts, newly arranged with a harp or piano forte accompaniment / by P. Anthony Corri

Whittaker Library catalogue entry

This book has the Duke’s family crest on a label pasted inside, and the outer cover is embossed with  ‘A F’ (Augustus Frederick), reflecting the monogram on the title page.

The Duke of Sussex’s mongram
Augustus Frederick, Duke of Sussex (1773-1843)

The tartan endpapers and tartan ribbon between pp.30-31 are a perfect illustration of what I have written about in a chapter on tartanry in my forthcoming monograph.  Everyone – whether nobility or commoner – liked a bit of tartan on or inside their Scottish song books, and here, someone even found a bit of tartan ribbon to use as a bookmark.

I have just a few of those books left to catalogue now.  There’s an intriguing one without a cover or title page, waiting for 9 am on Monday  …!  Hopefully, I’ll end up with an empty bookcase again.

Flashbacks no.14, Thomas Nelson and Sons

Picture of book cover

‘Audible’ books are great for someone who is trying to rest their eyes. But the problem starts when the book you want to read isn’t on Audible! Only being able to read a few pages at a time made reading this book a bit more of an endurance test than it needed to be. It wasn’t difficult reading in terms of comprehension – just a bit of an effort for my left eye without the assistance of the right one, which will take a few more weeks to catch up!

Thomas Nelson & Sons: Memories of an Edinburgh Publishing House, ed. Heather Holmes and David Finkelstein (East Linton: Tuckwell Press, 2001) ; Flashbacks series no.14 (Book cover shown above)

In the final pages of the book I’ve recently submitted to my publisher, I have referred to Thomas Nelson and Sons, the Edinburgh publisher. In connection with the research behind that book, I had acquired a copy of the paperback edited by Heather Holmes and David Finkelstein some months ago, but I didn’t read it at the time – because it was clearly not going to inform me about editorial decisions of the sort I was writing about. Nonetheless, I did want to read it at some stage, and I made a start last weekend.

Image from Wikimedia Commons

I learned a lot more about what it was like working in the print works, as recalled by four different individuals who were time-served printers – but I didn’t learn a huge amount more about publishing decisions in general, and there was nothing at all about publishing music. Nonetheless, it was useful; I’ve got a lot more background, and a few more facts and figures. Moreover, it was helpful to read about the demise of Thomas Nelson and Sons in the 1960s, the same decade that saw the decline of Scotland’s music publishing industry.

The ‘Flashbacks’ series is (or was) published by Tuckwell Press in association with SAPPHIRE (the Scottish Archive of Print and Publishing History Records) and The European Ethnological Research Centre. The latter sponsored the series, c/o the Royal Museums of Scotland. I think the National Museums of Scotland publishing page may be out of date, since it says there are six Flashbacks publications to date, yet the book I’ve just read is no.14, and was published in 2001. So far as I can make out, the series ended around 2004, and I think the SAPPHIRE oral history project ended about five years after that. (There are articles by Finkelstein, Sarah Bromage and Alistair McCleery dating from 2002 and 2009.)

As it happens, this was exactly the kind of book that I needed right now. Whilst I’m temporarily out of action, it’s useful to read around a subject without the pressure of needing to take notes. I can do the detailed scholarly work later!

When Less is More (Blog to Book)

Returning visitors to these pages may find the content thinner than it used to be. Now that I’m working on my next book, I want my best content to be honed to perfection and triple-checked before I commit it to print. Rather than leave extended writings – which I posted as ‘work in progress’ – sitting on the internet, I’ve pruned what is here. In general, I continue to research the topics I posted here (Scottish music publishers James Kerr, Mozart Allan and many others, and interrogations of cultural issues), and any new details or dates which I didn’t know at the time of blogging, could potentially change what I originally wrote. And also, of course, I want readers of the book to be surprised and delighted by new insights that no-one knew before!

I shall continue to blog, of course. How could I not? I have so many ideas buzzing round my head that it’s hard keeping them all to myself!

Chasing Research Grants

Also posted on Facebook, 26 May 2021

Hello again, dear followers! I’ve heard of a research grant that I am eligible to apply for. It’ll receive applications from many researchers, so I haven’t got a particularly strong chance of succeeding, but it would be nice to get a research grant to help me get on with writing my book, so … I shall have to see what’s involved in making an application!

I thought I’d share my current plans for the book. So far, I’ve written some of the introduction, and most of the first chapter.

This is the shape of the thing:-

  • 1. Cheap music for all: James S. Kerr and Mozart Allan (history)
  • 2. Enduring Kerr and Mozart Allan titles, what was in them and why they were so successful.
  • 3. Organisations (Glasgow and Scotland-wide) concerned with music making and with promoting Scottish music
  • 4. Educational connections
  • 5. Educationalists and how they fit into the scene
  • 6. Overseas.
  • 7. Spin-offs and tie-ins
  • 8. Publishing “classical” music in Scotland
  • 9. Domestic music-making in Glasgow

Considering how long it has taken just to get the first chunk written, you see what I have got ahead of me. Some chapters will be longer than others, and some of these topics may get merged. Who knows?!

(The image here is from Glasgow Museums Collection:- collections.GlasgowMuseums.com)

Good Intentions

I was going to write a bit about Cedric Thorpe Davie today. However, the day simply didn’t pan out as intended!

Instead, I finished a conference paper about metadata in rare music cataloguing, started gathering facts for another conference paper about a lowland pipe tune, broke off to deal with a library-related query, and played the pipe tune on a concertina to unravel my head after so many disjointed activities!

I do still intend to write something about Cedric Thorpe Davie at some point!

Bruce, Clements and Co.

This is another posting that I put on the Facebook Glasgow Music Publishers page a couple of days ago. I wonder if anyone can provide any pointers to this firm, currently a bit of a mystery to me?!

A QUESTION FOR EDINBURGHERS!

My study of historical Glasgow music publishers may need to embrace other Scottish music publishers too. (A metaphorical, socially distanced embrace, obviously.)

So. The first question is, who WERE Bruce, Clements & Co, who traded in Edinburgh circa 1921-1937, published quite a bit by W. B. Moonie and a significant work – Dirge for Cuthullin – by Cedric Thorpe Davie? I’ve only looked at Jisc Library Hub Discover and the British Newspaper Archive so far, but although I can find out what they published, I don’t know who they were – sometimes they called themselves Bruce Clements & Co., and other times Bruce, [COMMA!] Clements & Co. – though I do know they traded from 30 Rutland Square.

W. B. Moonie – YouTube of “Perthshire Echoes” played by pianist P. Sear

I don’t have access to Post Office Directories in Libraries – and they’re too “modern” to be in the National Library of Scotland Digital Gallery – though appropriate directories might yet tell me more about Mr Bruce or Mr Clements! At the moment, it’s just a question arising from my insatiable curiosity, but I should still like to know, because you never know what connections firms had with other firms or individuals.

I have had a couple of responses – Jack Campin tells me that Davie’s son was Tony Davie, computer scientist at the University of St Andrews.  And I am sure there will be plenty of material about Cedric Thorpe Davie himself at St Andrews’ research repository, so that could be an interesting angle to pursue.

Meanwhile, another respondent pointed me in the direction of a couple of directories available via the Internet Archive, so I now have their address, (You’d be surprised how many firms I’ve traced at Rutland Square, which plainly housed more than one company at a time. The Boy Scouts Association were there, for starters. But I digress!

Interestingly, Thorpe Davie’s choral work, Dirge for Cuthullin, published in 1937 and admired by Vaughan Williams (four letters survive at VaughanWilliams.uk), was subsequently taken over by Oxford University Press in 1946. (See notes on manuscripts at St Andrews University Library.) I have a feeling Bruce, Clements and Co published very little, if anything else, by Thorpe Davie, and I believe the firm fizzled out in the very early 1940s. (I’d still like to know who they were!)