Concertos for Phyllis and Cyril, and Much More

Pianists Phyllis Sellick (1911-2007) and Cyril Smith (1909-74) were long-time fixtures on the English concert scene. Both pursued separate performing and teaching careers following their 1937 marriage while also appearing as a piano duo. That changed in 1956, when Smith suffered a stroke, rendering him unable to use his left hand. 

Subsequently the couple began performing works for piano three hands, eventually leading three leading British composers to prepare works for them to perform. These were collected on a 1970 LP that is the centerpiece of this post.

Also on offer are three other albums. They contain the couple in a 1952 recording of a Mozart sonata for two pianos, and Smith's recordings of the Dohnányi Variations on a Nursery Song and that old stand-by, Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2.

Concertos for Phyllis and Cyril

The three smiling musicians on the cover above are the composer Malcolm Arnold, who conducted this record, along with Sellick and Smith.

Together with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, the trio produced this winning LP of "Concertos for Phyllis and Cyril," with two new works and one new arrangement from three of England's best-known composers.

Smith and Sellick introduced Arnold's Concerto for Phyllis and Cyril during the 1969 Proms, where it was quite a success. The brief work, in the composer's most genial manner, is highly engaging. Its finale is written in a sort of 1920's pastiche, which provides a nice segue to the second work on the program, which was actually composed in 1921.

An early work by Arthur Bliss, the Concerto for Piano, Tenor, Strings and Percussion, was written when the 29-year-old was, from the aural evidence, under the spell of Stravinsky's Petrushka. Bliss later reconfigured the work as a Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra. Finally, he worked with Clifford Phillips to produce a three-hand edition specifically for Smith and Sellick. It's quite an enjoyable work.

The longest work on the program is Gordon Jacob's Concerto for Three Hands, again written for the couple, and dedicated to them as the composer wrote, with profound admiration, adding, "in view of what they have achieved in adversity which would have overwhelmed lesser people, this is no empty phrase."

Arnold was a pupil of Jacob, whom he greatly admired. In his autobiography, Arnold observes that "somehow the [Jacob] Concerto never takes flight — well, not completely, because it is too well-made." With Jacob, emotion never took the upper hand, Arnold observed.

Sellick and Smith play as one on this record. Their precision and lovely tone are admirable; so are the compositions, orchestral playing and vivid recording. As Edward Greenfield wrote in his Gramophone review, "[T]he two central characters in this enterprise are both marvelously responsive, reacting warmly to music written or adapted for them."

Music by Mozart and Dohnányi

Seventeen years earlier, Sellick and Smith were recording for EMI's other marque, Columbia, which produced this odd coupling of Mozart's Sonata for Two Pianos in D major, K. 488, and Ernö Dohnányi's sly Variations on a Nursery Song, which dates from 1914. The latter is a work for single piano (here, Cyril Smith) and orchestra.

The Mozart sonata recording dates from December 1952, and displays the same unanimity of approach and tone heard on the Arnold recording. Phyllis and Cyril apparently were well matched both in music and in marriage.

Andrew Porter in The Gramphone was only mildly impressed, calling the performance "cool and gracefully turned," but "not in any way memorable." However, he reserved his real scorn for the coupling.

Dohnányi's work generally elicits two responses - one, it is clever and delightful; two, it is a bore. Porter was decidedly of the latter view, calling it "a tiresome piece of music," and complaining that Smith doesn't display the panache needed to bring it off.

Well, perhaps, but I will note that Smith's pianism is nicely fashioned and always apposite. Sir Malcolm Sargent and the Philharmonia accompany in this January 1953 recording from Abbey Road.

Smith's way with the Dohnányi must have been popular with the record buying public - this go-round was a remake of a 1944 recording, of which more below.

March 1954 Gramophone ad

The First Variations on a Nursery Song

In 1944, Columbia took Cyril Smith up to the Philharmonic Hall in Liverpool for the pianist's first attempt at the Variations on a Nursery Song (or Theme, as it is called here). 

Malcolm Sargent was again the leader of the ensemble; he was then the Liverpool Philharmonic's chief conductor. This February 1944 recording date was just a week before Sargent was knighted.

Sir Malcolm Sargent

Honestly, there is little difference between the two recordings. The Philharmonia produced a more refined sound, but Smith is much the same.

Contemporary reviews were split; some thought Smith was too poker-faced; others thought he was fine. Howard Taubman in the New York Times praised him being "a piano soloist who knows how to play with a light touch." But then the critic was a fan of the work.

I did not include US Columbia LP discmate, a Liszt concerto not with Smith but Witold Malcuzinski.

Rachmaninoff - Piano Concerto No. 2

Smith, Sargent and the Liverpool Philharmonic were again collaborators for a June 1947 spin through Rachmaninoff's ever-popular Piano Concerto No. 2.

Cyril Smith

The critical opinions were again divided: some thought that Smith was not a big enough keyboard personality to match up with the powerful Rachmaninoff. But the Gramophone Shop Supplement insisted that "by avoiding the rough and ready pounding found in most of the extant versions, this work can be and is taken out of the doldrums. A reading that combines power with restraint."

My own view is that while Smith plays beautifully, a bit more personality might not have been out of place.

The first two LPs above come from my collection. I've filled out the post with transfers I've remastered from Internet Archive needle drops.

I am sorry that I don't have a solo recording from Phyllis Sellick to offer. However, I can recommend the 1945 recording of William Walton's wonderful Sinfonia Concertante, with Sellick and the composer conducting the City of Birmingham Symphony. The transfer is by my friend Bryan Bishop, aka Shellackophile, done for Internet Archive and available here.

The Early 'Babes in Arms' Recordings

Cover of souvenir booklet

The Rodgers and Hart score for 1937's Babes in Arms is a brilliant achievement - memorable melodies and clever lyrics abound. While several of its songs are still familiar, we don't know much about how they sounded on the stage in 1937 because there was no original cast album. This, of course, was a shame - the musical featured talented young performers who made just a handful of recordings in general, and only a few of the songs from this production.

The 1939 film version is not much help, either - Hollywood in its wisdom threw out almost all of the Rodgers and Hart songs, substituting songs by producer Arthur Freed and his close associate Roger Edens, and adding everything from "Oh! Susanna" to "Ida! Sweet as Apple Cider." In fact, there are more of the original Babes in Arms songs in the 1948 Rodgers and Hart biopic Words and Music than there were in the filmed musical.

Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart

However, there are enough early recordings of the Babes in Arms songs to allow us to assemble a collection that, while not a facsimile of what the audience in the Golden Theater heard in 1937, is an interesting artifact in its own right.

Let's take the songs in the order of their appearance in the score.

Mitzi Green and Ray Heatherton

The juvenile leads in 1937 were Mitzi Green as Billie and Ray Heatherton as Val. Green, who made few if any recordings (although we have an aircheck of "The Lady Is a Tramp" below), was known primarily as a Hollywood child star. Heatherton was a band and radio singer with some stage experience.

Fortunately there is what seems to be an aircheck of Heatherton singing one of the score's major hits, the wistful "Where or When" with an unknown orchestra, and that fine version leads off the collection.

Victor did have Heatherton in the studio to record "Where or When," but it teamed him with stodgy society bandleader Ruby Newman, who saw the piece as a tango, and made Heatherton wait until the song was nearly over to introduce Lorenz Hart's fascinating lyrics.

Douglas McPhail and Betty Jaynes

"Where or When" is one of the two original songs that appears in the 1939 film, sung by Douglas McPhail and Betty Jaynes, with a very brief appearance by Judy Garland. These are presented as two separate files in the collection. (Note that the out-of-tune string playing is deliberate - the vocalists were supposedly being accompanied by a band of children.)

Douglas McPhail leads the 'babes in arms'

The show's title song, "Babes in Arms," is a stirring march, and is another thing that the film got right. There it was sung primarily by McPhail, who possesses the proper heroic quality for the piece. So heroic that whoever did the orchestral arrangement inserted more than a little Wagner into the mix.

'I Wish I Were in Love Again'

The filmed version dropped the enduring standard "I Wish I Were in Love Again," but the film's stars, Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney, did eventually record it, for Words and Music (Garland's last film for M-G-M). Rooney is hammy in the piece, and even Garland mugs too much for me. She also recorded it in 1947 for Decca (her final song for that label), but the tempo there is too fast.

Edgar Fairchild and Adam Carroll

The Babes in Arms songs go from strength to strength - next up is the perennially popular "My Funny Valentine." Here we call on the duo pianists Edgar Fairchild and Adam Carroll, who were in the Babes in Arms pit band, and who recorded several songs from the score for the Liberty Music Shop label. There is orchestral backing on this and all their sides. (Fairchild has been heard on the blog before - in a piano duo with Ralph Rainger with a medley from Oh, Kay!.)

As far as I can tell, none of the revival cast albums include the next number, for reasons that the title will make clear - "All Dark People Are Light on Their Feet." In the original production, this number was a specialty for the amazing Nicholas Brothers, who played the DeQuincy brothers. One Babes in Arms subplot was the discrimination faced by the DeQuincys. The only recording I have found is by the Bunny Berigan orchestra, with a vocal by white singer-trombonist Ford Leary. Neither the Nicholas brothers nor this song are in the film version.

The clever "Way Out West" ("Get along little taxi / You can keep the change / I'm ridin' home to my kitchen range / Way out west on West End Avenue") is not heard these days, but is always fun to encounter. In the musical, it's a specialty for the character of Baby Rose, played by the 16-year-old Wynn Murray. There is a good live recording of her singing the piece, which I've included in the download.

Teddy Lynch

Next in the collection, Fairchild and Carroll reappear, bringing along the mannered cabaret artist Teddy Lynch as vocalist in "Way Out West." Lynch wasn't a great singer, but she was talented enough to attract the attention of the world's richest person, J. Paul Getty, whom she would marry a few years later.

Ruth Gaylor and Hal McIntyre

The standard "My Funny Valentine" was introduced by Mitzi Green. In absence of a recording by her, we again turn to Fairchild and Carroll for our first interpretation. I've added a superior 1944 recording by Hal McIntyre's big band, with a good vocal by Ruth Gaylor, betraying the influence of Helen Forrest. The McIntyre arrangement is in a different sound world from Ruby Newman or Fairchild and Carroll.

Wynn Murray and Alfred Drake

Wynn Murray did make a commercial record of her number "Johnny One Note," one of the best-known songs in the score. It appeared on the flip side of the record that Ray Heatherton did with Ruby Newman. To me, Murray's clear voice is just right for this song, which can be annoying if belted.

Murray, Alfred Drake (making his first non-operetta appearance on Broadway) and Duke McHale presented the underrated "Imagine" in the original production. The song has a Depression subtext ("Imagine your bills are paid / Imagine you've made the grade," etc.). I can find no better version than the one by the obscure Mardi Bayne, from the 1952 studio cast recording. She is so appealing it's surprising she did not do more on Broadway. (She was about to appear in Wish You Were Here with Jack Cassidy at the time of this recording.)

Jack Cassidy

Val and Billie returned for "All at Once," but neither Mitzi Green nor Ray Heatherton recorded it. So I have turned to the 1952 studio album again for the splendid singing of Bayne and Cassidy.

One of the score's most famous songs is "The Lady Is a Tramp," not least because it was in Sinatra's repertoire for many years. It was introduced by Mitzi Green and this collection includes what sounds like an aircheck of her singing the piece with a great deal of personality. It must have come across well on the stage.

Mitzi Green sings 'The Lady Is a Tramp'

I've also added a version by Teddy Lynch with Fairchild and Carroll and orchestra.

The final number in the score is the neglected "You Are So Fair," which has a lovely melody but not one of Hart's best set of lyrics. Jack Cassidy makes the most of it for the 1952 album, which was conducted by Lehman Engel. The orchestrations are by Carol Huxley.

Lee Sullivan

I thought it might be helpful to include Richard Rodgers' own recordings of a few songs from the score, which are drawn from his album Smash Song Hits by Rodgers and Hart, released in early 1940. For "Where or When," he turned to the talented vocalist Lee Sullivan (who would later originate the role of Charlie Dalrymple in Brigadoon). These recordings were made "under the personal direction of Richard Rodgers," and if that is accurate, I can attest that he favored a rapid tempo for "Where or When." Sullivan also appears in "Johnny One Note," where his part consists of only that one famous note. This Johnny is more mellifluous than most - somewhat similar to Wynn Murray, in fact. The complete Rodgers album can be found here.

The recordings come from Internet Archive and my collection. The sound is good; even the airchecks are listenable. The download includes a number of production stills other than the ones above. It also has my restoration of the original 16-page souvenir booklet, from the New York Public Library site. As usual with such library files, the resolution lacks the detail that one might wish, but the booklet is fun!

Vaughan Williams' Lively Settings of John Skelton

Ralph Vaughan Williams' best known homage to the Tudor period is probably the Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis, a soaring, spiritual work that is a cathedral in sound. Much more earthy is the set of Five Tudor Portraits, settings of verses by the 16th century poet John Skelton.

Make no mistake, the music of the Portraits is entirely a pleasure to hear, a superb achievement by a huge, idiosyncratic talent in the prime of his career. (The work was written in 1936.) As for the verse, Skelton was a writer of prodigious talent and little discretion, both apparent in the works that Vaughan Williams set.

While Skelton was a most important poet, he also was a most intemperate one. A man of the upper class, he studied at Oxford and Cambridge, became a tutor to Henry VIII and eventually a cleric. He possessed a remarkable facility with words, which he used for purposes that encompassed burlesque and invective. We encounter both in the Five Tudor Portraits.

Perhaps the best known of the Portraits is "The Tunning [i.e., Brewing] of Elinor Rumming," a wild, misogynistic take-down of a possibly real alewife (that is, brewer) who was fined for shorting her clientele. Skelton goes to great lengths to express his disgust with Rumming, with overly vivid descriptions of her grotesque appearance to accusing her of plunking bird droppings in her libations to intimations of witchcraft.

The other major Portrait is that of that of "Jane Scroop (Her Lament for Philip Sparrow)," a 21-minute disquisition in verse about the death of a pet bird. Both it and Vaughan Williams' music are ingenious - and the words are touching - but did this small sorrow require an orchestra and chorus?

A third is "Epitaph on John Jayberd of Diss," in which Skelton makes known his distaste for the late Jayberd, "suspected by all, loved by none," in a sort of quasi-Latin verse that I could not understand, my last Latin lesson having occurred some 60 years ago. There is a free translation in the text booklet.

More to my taste is the simple song, "My Pretty Bess" and the concluding "Jolly Rutterkin."

Ralph Vaughan Williams

Vaughan Williams' settings are, as always, glorious sounding, as are the performances by some of the best that Britain had to offer in 1969, the time of the recording. This is one of a series of HMV choral recordings made in the 1960s and conducted by David Willcocks, as here, or Sir Adrian Boult. All posts were taken from original pressings and possess exceptional sound.

John Carol Case, Elizabeth Bainbridge, David Willcocks

The primary soloist is contralto Elizabeth Bainbridge, who some reviewers found much too ladylike for Elinor Rumming. (Probably true, but perhaps just as well.) Baritone John Carol Case is excellent in "My Pretty Bess." Willcocks brought in his Bach Choir for this outing, and they do fine, although again, some would have liked them to be more earthy. The New Philharmonia Orchestra sounds splendid in the comfy acoustic of Kingsway Hall.

While this is not my favorite of the Vaughan Williams choral works, I will say that the music and performance are hard not to enjoy, even for someone out of sympathy with one of the most famous poets of the English language.

November 1969 Gramophone ad 

'Twas Brillig - The Songs of 'Alice in Wonderland'

The idea of doing an animated or hybrid live action/animation version of the perennially popular Alice in Wonderland - or as its author, Lewis Carroll called it, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - was in the back of Walt Disney's mind for many years before he got around to producing the famous 1951 film.

Lewis Carroll

Before Disney's film, there had been at least six film versions (not counting a few shorts by Walt himself), and two television productions, including one that aired while the 1951 film version was in production.

In the 1940s, Disney had contemplated a live-action/animated version with Ginger Rogers in the title role. This did not come to pass, but Rogers (a strange choice) recorded some Victor Young-Frank Luther songs for the project. The resulting album can be found here.

Bob Hilliard and Sammy Fain

In 1946, Disney asked the well-known Mack David, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston to work up some Alice songs, as they had done for Cinderella. Only one was eventually used - "The Unbirthday Song." Disney's next choice was the pairing of Sammy Fain and Bob Hilliard. Composer Fain had only just started working with the lyricist, but they already had a success with "Dear Hearts and Gentle People." Their songs ultimately became the backbone of the film's score, although the teams of Cy Coben-Oliver Wallace, Don Raye-Gene de Paul and Mack David-Jerry Livingston-Al Hoffman also contributed excellent numbers.

Despite the film's patchwork of composers, the songs from Alice hold together very well, and were taken up by some of the best performers of the day. As such they make for a entertaining playlist, which I've put together for you. This set does not include anything from the soundtrack itself, which Disney did not get around to issuing until the CD era.

Here are the Alice songs, presented in the order of their appearance in the film, with one exception. All numbers are by Fain and Hilliard unless noted otherwise.

I hope I don't get too many details of the film wrong: I haven't seen Alice since I was seven. And that was a while ago.

'Alice in Wonderland'

Alice

The idea for doing this post actually originated in one of my items devoted to the superb vocalist Stuart Foster. I was mightily impressed by the recording he made with Hugo Winterhalter of Alice's title song. This dreamy reverie perfectly sets off the more eccentric songs in the score.

At the risk of repeating myself, I've included the Foster-Winterhalter recording to start off this collection.

'I'm Late'

The White Rabbit

Danny Kaye

The lament of the White Rabbit - "I'm Late" - was for many years the most often heard song from the score. Here is a version by Danny Kaye, whose ability to sing very fast while conveying comic neurosis is perfect for the Rabbit. The clever lyrics are a big help, of course. Dave Terry conducted the band for this Coral recording.

Kaye makes two return appearances below.

'How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands'

One of these is Tweedledee, the other Tweedledum

The next two songs are given over to the ever-popular Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Their first number is the wacky "How D'Ye Do and Shake Hands." It's an item that did have some currency on the televised variety shows of the time because it lends itself to an ensemble presentation.

Two of the leading labels of the day - RCA Victor and Decca - gathered four of their biggest names to have a go at it. I've included both recordings, hopefully not trying your patience in the process.

RCA's effort starred Betty Hutton, Dinah Shore, Phil Harris and Tony Martin - two who specialized in comic songs (Hutton and Harris) and two who did not. Phil and Betty come off better; the other two sound a little embarrassed to be there. Henri René led the band with "horns by courtesy of Spike Jones."

Jimmy, Jane, Groucho

The competition from Decca started off with the ever-present Danny Kaye, adding Jimmy Durante and Groucho Marx. The fourth voice belonged to Jane Wyman, who not only could sing, but was adept with comic numbers - as she proved that same year with her duet with Bing on "In the Cool, Cool, Cool of the Evening" in Here Comes the Groom.

The Decca recording, with Sonny Burke leading the band, is the better of the two. Thanks to my pal Ernie for bringing these to my attention!

'The Walrus and the Carpenter'

Danny Kaye returns with another Tweedledum/dee specialty, their tale of the "The Walrus and the Carpenter," a setting of a Carroll poem. The backing is again by Dave Terry.

Carroll's off-center approach to words was perfect for Kaye - the carpenter and walrus are on a beach, and the carpenter assures the walrus, "We'll sweep this clear / In 'alf a year, / If you don't mind the work!"

'All in the Golden Afternoon'

"All in the Golden Afternoon" is the preface poem to Carroll's book, but in the film Fain's setting is used for a scene with Alice and the flowers.

Kukla, Burr, Ollie and Fran

"Golden Afternoon" inspired commercial recordings by Rosemary Clooney and Anne Shelton, but I have chosen the version by a sentimental favorite, Fran Allison, working with Wayne King's orchestra. Allison was the "Fran" in Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Burr Tillstrom's puppet show that was a favorite of early TV viewers, especially me.

Allison was not a great singer - not as good as Clooney or Shelton, anyway - but her vocalizing here is charming.

'Twas Brillig

We're in a different world altogether with the next song, "'Twas Brillig," which was allotted to the Cheshire Cat and his perma-grin. (Parenthetically, there are many explanations of the genesis of the phrase, "grinning like a Cheshire cat," but it's clear the expression and character did not originate with Carroll.)

The song was borrowed from Carroll's Alice follow-up Through the Looking Glass. The author called it "Jabberwocky," but the film goes by its first words, "'Twas Brillig," which continues, "and the slithy toves / Did gyre and gimble in the wabe". It's often called a nonsense poem, but Carroll's initial version was a send-up of Old English. Nonsense or not, the poem did contribute at least two words to the dictionary - "chortled" and "galumphing," both favorites of mine.

Lucy Ann Polk

"'Twas Brillig" being a sort of Victorian jive talk, it appealed to some of the musicians of the mid-20th century. Hollywood songwriters Don Raye and Gene de Paul set it to music, and a nice job they did of it, too. I've included the fine recording by Les Brown's band, with a accomplished vocal from the talented Lucy Ann Polk. This is one of the best things in the collection. The Brown record makes use of only the first stanza of Carroll's poem. (The complete poem and more about its language can be found here.)

'The Unbirthday Song'

Alice at tea with the Hatter and Hare

A second number that found some life outside of the film was "The Unbirthday Song," another clever piece, this one given to the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. It was contributed by the popular songwriters Mack David, Jerry Livingston and Al Hoffman.

I've chosen the version by Rosemary Clooney, one of the four Alice songs she recorded for Columbia's children's label. Rosie can seem perfunctory in kiddie material, but she gets this one right. Percy Faith leads the band.

'Very Good Advice'

Peggy King

"Very Good Advice" is Alice's song of disillusionment. She fears she won't return home, and sings, "I give myself very good advice / But I very seldom follow it / That explains the trouble that I'm always in."

Here, too, we turn to the big band ranks for the RCA recording by Ralph Flanagan and his orchestra, with a vocal by Peggy King, 20 years old and sounding younger. Her simple approach is right for the song, one of the best by Fain and Hilliard.

You may note on the record label that King was spelling her first name "Pegge" early in her career. One of her few LPs is available here.

'Painting the Roses Red'

Fred Waring

Alice encounters playing cards who are busying themselves by painting the roses red. Why? Because they mistakenly planted white roses and the Queen of Hearts prefers red. (She catches on anyway and has them beheaded - which is her impulse on most occasions. This may seem to be a not-very-oblique commentary on Queen Victoria, but it's said that she loved the book.)

The abbreviated version here is from the song-storybook by Fred Waring and His Pennsylvanians, a polished production for Decca.

'The March of the Cards'

The Three Suns

I am not the biggest fan of the Three Suns, but their foursquare approach to music suits "The March of the Cards." (The Three Suns were reportedly the favorite group of noted hipster Mamie Eisenhower.) The Sammy Fain tune was taken up by a number of other artists - among them Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops, Waring and pianist Winifred Atwell.

This is the only strictly instrumental piece in this collection, and is well in keeping with the jaunty approach of some of the other selections.

From the top in the photo above are Artie Dunn, organ, Morty Nevins, accordion, and Al Nevins, guitar.

'In a World of My Own'

The song "In a World of My Own" is introduced at the beginning of the film, but the best version on record may be by Fred Waring's group, which segues into a reprise of the "Alice in Wonderland" theme music at the end of their set. For that reason, I've kept it in that place to close this collection, save for the bonus track below.

A Jazz Version of the Theme

Paul Desmond and Dave Brubeck

The "Alice in Wonderland" theme was unexpectedly popular with certain jazz musicians. I've capped this collection with Dave Brubeck's first recording of the composition, dating from 1952. He would return to it five years later for Columbia and a complete LP called Dave Digs Disney.

Brubeck's pianism often seemed labored, as it does here. But the compensation is the wonderful alto saxophonist Paul Desmond, who contributes a typically lyrical solo, drawing an evocative tone from an instrument that can sound shrill.

Disney's Alice in Wonderland is highly regarded today, but lost money at the box office on its initial release. Walt himself was unhappy with the product, thinking it had insufficient heart. One critic complained that it "utterly lacked enchantment." To me, the opposite is true - Disney's artists brought Carroll's wonderland to life with great skill. Gracing it all was a diverse score that nonetheless hangs together and is a entertaining complement to Carroll's story and the Disney storytellers.

These records are primarily from Internet Archive, as refurbished by me.

One final note - "Lewis Carroll" was a pen name. The author was in reality Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (1832-98), who was at once a clergyman, an Oxford don in mathematics, a poet, an author and a photographer. You may have noticed that the title card at the top of this post has a typo in Carroll's name.