It would be remiss of me not to point out that Routledge’s Black Friday sale makes the e-book version of my book very affordable! (Maybe someone might even buy you it for Christmas?).
Those preferring to read a hard copy might point out to their library that there’s no time like the present…
Its forerunner, Our Ancient National Airs, is also in the sale.
There! Your Christmas reading is sorted.
Once used in an Edinburgh school, a wee Scots song book (pupil’s edition) found its way to a shop on the Isle of Arran, then back to the mainland to me in Glasgow.
If you ever find any of these in the back of a school cupboard, or bookshop, or car boot sale, or Granny’s attic …
… please do let me know! I’m trying to get complete set! There were four books for the kids, and four for teachers.
I haven’t been posting much this summer, for personal reasons. So – after more than a week of total blog silence, imagine my surprise to find I have had hundreds and hundreds more visitors since yesterday. What’s happened?!
Even if it’s some kind of blip, it gives me the opportunity to introduce myself. I’m a postdoctoral research fellow at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland and also, for a few weeks more, at IASH at the University of Edinburgh. I research all sorts of cool stuff (well, it’s cool to me) about Scottish music publishers, with a distinct interest in national song collections, and in early 20th century music education in Scotland.
My second book was published at the end of 2024:-
That might look like a strange date-range, but my previous book covered Scottish song-collecting up to the 1880s, so this kind of continues in a slightly different way from that point onwards. The 1951 cut-off date is because that was the year of the Festival of Britain. And it was also a good place to stop because I touched upon magic lanterns, gramophones and the wireless, but I really didn’t feel I was the right person to write about early television in Scotland! By stopping in 1951, I conveniently sidestepped early television. There are plenty of people more knowledgeable than me on that front.
My current Edinburgh research entails examining archival records of the Thomas Nelson publishing house, an old Edinburgh firm. The British side of this company has ceased trading – it’s an American firm now – but I’ve found plenty to interest me in the documents up the early 1950s. Education became their focus during the era I’m researching. Whilst my book mostly covers publishers specialising in music, Thomas Nelson really only published music that would be used in schools – though they hoped a few titles would also attract the general public. (The problem being that if you mention ‘school’ or ‘classroom’ in a title, it will turn off the ordinary member of public looking at books in a bookshop!)
Will there be a third book? Possibly! I’m still pondering. September is earmarked for concentrated thought about that!
If this sounds interesting, please do come back and visit this site again.
It is the week of the bathroom renovation. There’s a team doing it, and all I have to do is basically keep out of the way. (Said she, glumly contemplating the inconveniences of having no – erm – plumbing for hours at a time.) It’s going to be fabulous, but the upheaval is quite something else. This morning, we have a singing electrician and two joiners. I am much distracted by the banging and crashing upstairs and down, and a table has appeared in the garden!
The electrician has just inspected the fusebox, and warned me that there might be some inappropriate language if certain switches and boxes don’t do what he needs them to do. Silence. He stops singing …
I look for ways to divert myself. Yesterday, I did some ironing (that’s always a sign of stress. I ironed before I got married; I ironed when I was in labour; and I iron when someone has rattled me!) I also wrote a report, which felt strangely grounding – and reached out to another professional with whom I have a point of common interest. Maybe not exactly holiday activities, but definitely worthwhile.
Strangely enough, tidying seems quite therapeutic. If much of the house is in chaos inside and out, then imposing order on a tiny corner – David versus Goliath – feels like taking back just a bit of control. Last week I put unwanted books on eBay and visited the charity shop, but I can always find more. I could do some gardening, but everything’s very wet out there after overnight rain, Maybe later!
I could sort paperwork and filing, but creating more mess and covering more surfaces may not be a good idea. I may be reduced to commencing a [small] sewing project, or perhaps starting knitting! Or …
An Album of WELL-LOVED SONGS From the Repertoire of Robert Wilson, ‘THE VOICE OF SCOTLAND’
My eye falls on the Robert Wilson song-book that has lain on the piano for a couple of weeks. That needs putting away – but not before I reflect that the publication has its own points of interest. I like the fact that this book, published by Ascherberg, Hopwood & Crew, predates when Wilson and his cronies bought James S Kerr’s publishing concern and began publishing jaunty, variety-influenced (‘tartan-tinted’) light song repertoire that not only suited his own voice, but met with affectionate approval with his many, many followers. The English firm’s publication contains an older selection of Scottish songs, which clearly marks an earlier stage in Wilson’s career:- ‘My ain Wee House’ (Hoose, surely?! But it’s an English publisher); ‘Hame o’ mine’; ‘Bonnie wee thing’; ‘The auld House’ (ahem. Hoose, please); ‘O sing to me the auld Scotch sangs’; ‘Yon wee bit heather’; ‘The Scottish Emigrant’s Farewell’, and more. It couldn’t be more different from his later repertoire.
Ah, I’ve just heard a triumphant ‘YES!’ from the bathroom. And no swearing. I’ll take that as a sign that the fusebox and switches did what they were meant to do. (Thank God!)
The electrician has started singing again, so all must be well! A quick burst of the burglar alarm – that’ll annoy the neighbours! – then fuses are put back, the alarm is reset and peace descends … for now.
Folks, I’ve just noticed Routledge has a 20% summer sale on at the moment. So, if you or your library could use a copy, this might be a good time to get it! (All books and e-books are 20% off until 1 August 2025.)
The accent is on social history and Scotland – and music-making, obviously. I’m keen to hear what readers think of it. (If you are a reviews editor, do get in touch with Routledge. There’s a link on the website.)
Karen E McAulay, A Social History of Amateur Music-Making: Scotland’s Printed Music 1880-1951 (Routledge, 2005)
ISBN 9781032389202
220 Pages
Published October 30, 2024 by Routledge
Do you want any more Flora Woodman, or have I said enough?! I published an article earlier this year – same subject matter as my paper today, but certainly not the same piece of writing:-
‘The ‘Scottish Soprano’ and the ‘Voice of Scotland’: the Importance of Nationality to Flora Woodman and Robert Wilson’, History Scotland Vol.25 no.1 (Spring 2025), 74-81
Public library e-magazine apps may still provide access to the issue, though History Scotland is no longer published. I believe you can access it via the former publisher, too. Let me share the message I received from History Scotland a few weeks ago:-
“As you may know, the Spring 2025 issue of History Scotland will be the last issue of the magazine. Thank you so much for your support over the years.The good news is, we’ll still be exploring Scotland’s past in our expert webinars and our monthly history newsletter, and there is still a huge range of back issues of the magazine for you to enjoy…
“Visit the pocketmags.com website and you can download back issues going back to 2010. How to buy back issues:
“Log in to your pocketmags.com account or register for an account. Visit the History Scotland page and browse the many back issues of the magazine.
“The ‘Complete Collection’ offer gives you all the History Scotland digital back issues you don’t own yet for a special discounted price. How to complete your collection:- Log in to your pocketmags.com account or register for an account. Visit the History Scotland page and click on COMPLETE COLLECTION“
I made a McKinnon tartan sash as a ‘prop’ for my talk. That was Flora’s mum’s family tartan, going back a few generations. Flora said it – I haven’t verified this! It also bears the Scottish Clans Association of London badge – oh, I take these things seriously! (If you are reading this after the event but missed it – I only wore the tartan sash for 15 seconds to show how it would be worn. Minimal cultural appropriation was committed.)
As we answered questions after the first three talks, something occurred to me. Flora had something significant in common with her Scottish Clans Association of London audiences. The vast majority of them were of Scottish descent, and – like Flora – quite a few of them would have been born outwith Scotland. To them, she was quite simply, Scottish, the same as they themselves were. No-one was going to accuse her of not really being Scottish, because that would negate their own sense of Scottishness too. If Scottish blood flows in your veins – you’re Scottish, wherever you are.
(Me? No, no, I’m only as Scottish as my surname!)
I’m giving a paper at a forthcoming conference at the University of Surrey: Actors, Singers and Celebrity Cultures across the Centuries.
It takes place from tomorrow, Thursday 12 to Saturday 14 June 2025, and is organised under the aegis of the University’s Theatrical Voice Research Centre.
My talk’s entitled, ‘Comparing the Career Trajectories of Two Scottish Singers: Flora Woodman and Robert Wilson‘.
I could write plenty about their concert attire alone (think lace, diamonds and fluted frocks, or smart kilts and jackets) – but obviously, I can only just brush past that particular clothes rail, considering the more significant observations that I’m also making.
Today, I’d like to share some audio that won’t be making it into my talk. Let’s call it ‘extra content’. I’ve recorded some of the Boosey-published ballads that Flora performed at their Royal Albert Hall concerts. Since I’m not a trained singer, I’ve done my best to convey an impression solely on the piano. (I’m not going to start singing here!) I also highlight some of the themes in these songs – captured hearts, broken hearts, the joys of spring and of youth. It’s surprising what you find, if you really look.
Here goes:-
Published in 1997, this is quite an unusual collection: I can’t think of another Scottish song book illustrated throughout by a famous contemporary artist. Inside, the drawings and graphic art are monochrome – only the cover is in full colour. This, it must be said, is not quite what Gray initially envisaged; the decision was necessitated by cost, on the part of the publisher. It’s still a beautiful piece of – well, book art – I imagine it sitting on coffee tables. It doesn’t sit very easily on a piano music stand, due to its bulk.
Today, as I opened it, the dust-jacket fell back, revealing an equally beautiful embossed cloth cover. I just had to share it!
It’s a very traditional anthology – you won’t find modern repertoire here. But it’s carefully annotated, with a bibliography bearing witness to the amount of research that went into it.
I have looked at contemporary reviews, and other related material – and there’s more I could say about this publication. However, I am keeping this for another day.
If you’d like your own copy, it’s out of print but easy to source second-hand. (Here’s the Abe Books link.)
Songs of Scotland, ed. by Wilma Paterson, designed and illustrated by Alasdair Gray (Edinburgh: Mainstream Publishing, 1997)
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.
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!
A couple of days ago, I wrote,
I would dearly love to trace a child, or children, who sang from these books. I think these books were aimed at children probably between eight to twelve years old, so the oldest children were born circa 1936-1946.
Well, I have! Five people have reached out to me already – one of them a prize-winning singer. However, it appears I underestimated this title’s longevity. I guessed,
I don’t know how long the books would have remained in use, but my guess is that they’d probably have fallen to bits by the late 1950s. In that case, the youngest users would have been born round about 1950. And that would make them baby-boomers, but several years older than me
I got that wrong! Two (as I predicted) are a bit older than me. Two a little younger. And the very youngest tells me they were at school in the 1980s – still singing from Nelson’s Scots Song Book.
Four are Scots. But the other (one of those a little bit younger than me) was in …
South Wales! (Now I’m curious to know – any more distant sightings, anyone?)
I’ve also, tonight, been gifted a copy of Book 4. I got home and sat down at the piano straight away! What an exciting present. And I can play away to my heart’s content, since it’s all in the name of research.
But I won’t pre-empt my Work in Progress talk at IASH next week. Would you like to hear it? It’s online as well as in person. Click here.
Karen McAulay, Musicologist 