July 16, 1999 - September 26, 1999
The cheerful tinkle of a music box, the determined plonk of a honky-tonk piano, the scratchy drone of a gramophone: These sounds of a bygone era are easily imagined today, even though the memories of the molodies that they played is muted by time. They were once examples of "cutting edge" technology, a triumph of the inventor's sweat and ingenuity, and a delight for an expectant public. Beginnings
: 1700 - 1850
Like many stories about
the American Heritage, the story of music boxes begins in Europe over 200 years
ago. There, on the western slopes of the Alps, Swiss watchmakers began
fashioning little devices to add to the fancy pocket watches and snuff boxes
commissioned by their wealthy patrons. Althtough the technology of pinned metal
cylinders was not new, Swiss artisans miniaturized the cylinders, making them
fit into hand sized cases along with a small, tuned comb. The cylinder and
comb together produced a distinctively clear, pure tone as the pins displaced
and then released the teeth of the comb.
For a century, artisans
tinkered with the expensive devices, attempting to improve musical quality by
minimizing the sound of the gears that turned the cylinder. Finally, in
the Nineteenth Century, watchmakers realized that many people, not just the
wealthy, wanted to buy the little machines, even if the sound was not yet
perfect. Increasingly, they abandoned watches and turned exclusively to
producing music boxes.
To understand the novelty and wonder of these
boxes to people of the 1800s, we must imagine a world without radio, television,
or the Walkman; a world where the most common sounds were church bells, horses
hooves, and the occaisional clamor of a horse-drawn streetcar. Unless you
were a trained musician who could build or afford to buy an instrument, you
probably heard instrumental music only rarely. Suddenly, with inventions
like the music box, hurdy-gurdy, player pianos and organs, the music was there
whenever you wished to hear it, for as long as you wished to hear
it.
Music for the people: 1850 - 1890
After 1850, factories began to
mass produce musical instruments that were nationally and internationally
marketed through department stores and catalogs. But the demands of
factory production changed the technology. cylinders took great musical
skill to pin properly in the correct, properly timed sequence of notes.
The flat disc, which was easier to reproduce, began to replace cylinders
in the 1890s.
In a similar way, the
popular player piano replaced the reed organ in the United States.
Utilizing cases built for standard pianos and installing new inner assemblies
from local pneumatic works, player piano factories began to pop up all along the
Great Lakes industrial corridor. Once the "hardware" was purchased, the
customer than needed a steady supply of "software": Paper rolls perforated in a
pattern that enabled the mechanism to wheeze or jangle out popular
tunes.
The rise of the factory helped
America compete with Europeans in the music machine market. Unable to match the
exquisite workmanship of the Swiss boxws, the Americans went on to admirably
compete in the production and sale of disc boxes, automatic pianos, finally
gaining undisputed
dominance in phonograph production.
The Phonograph: Recording Life, 1890 - 1930
The phonograph that
Thomas Edison invented in 1877 was both the culmination of the musical machine
and the reason why music machines fell out of popular favor in the Twentieth
Century. The piano roll and music box disc could reproduce a tune, sometimes
many tunes, on one instrument. Even though the sound was sometimes scratchy and
distant, the phonograph played back a recording of life: All the musicians with
all of their instruments just as they played. Not only could we now summon
music at will, but the guns of the Spanish American War, or the voice of the
great Caruso, or the words of Theodore Roosevelt.
By the 1920s, the phonograph, now often paired with a radio
in one gleaming console, had become as common an appliance as a
refrigerator. The music box became a quant machine that sat rarely used,
gathering dust on grandmother's mantle. Soon only those with extra leisure time and
money would collect them.
So the musical box had come full circle, from a plaything
of the rich, to a comfort and delight of the masses, to a charming antique
suitable for collectors. Still, no other instrument can exactly match it. As one of those collectors, Ralph
Heinz, tells us, "A music box makes a magic sound. The quality ones don't
mimic any other instrument, and once you have heard one, you never
forget."
Our Special Thanks
The Museum is indebted to many
individuals and institutions for this exhibit. We commend and thank in
particular:
Ralph Heinz, George
Jensen, Frank Livermore, Gene Thomas and Bill Wehrend for loaning the artifacts displayed in this
exhibit.
Thanks also to Sue Beaver, Bob Bond, Theodora Nelson, Kim
Pack, Beryl Self, Bob Wersted and, especially, Bill Wehrend for planning and
installing this exhibit.
This page last updated October 3, 2000 |
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