The Complete 'By the Light of the Silvery Moon'

After the success of 1951's On Moonlight Bay, the Warner Bros. brought back stars Doris Day and Gordon MacRae for another go at a story loosely based on Booth Tarkington's Penrod stories. The result was 1953's By the Light of the Silvery Moon. Once again, the songs were vintage and once again there was no soundtrack album because Day recorded for Columbia and MacRae for Capitol.

So today, we bring you the two "songs from the movie" LPs the stars produced separately, along with the actual songs from the soundtrack transferred from an ancient bootleg album. Both of the stars' records were of the 10-inch variety, the waning standard for pop LPs at the time. Within a few years, 12-inch LPs would crowd out their smaller siblings.

Day and MacRae were exceptionally charming on film and their albums are just as worthwhile. Plus there is plenty to like in the period songs, with a few exceptions. In this film, MacRae had just come back from serving "over there," so the setting is circa 1918.

Doris' Columbia LP

Day started off her LP with the title song, "By the Light of the Silv'ry Moon." (Note that the song title was also rendered without the elision, which version Warner Bros. adopted for the film's title.) Gus Edwards and Edward Madden wrote the tune for the Ziegfeld Follies of 1909. Edwards himself was the subject of a biopic, 1939's The Star Maker, with Bing Crosby as his celluloid replica. "By the Light" may be the composer's best song.

Doris Day, Gordon MacRae, Rosemary DeCamp, Leon Ames

"Your Eyes Have Told Me So" was a 1919 effort by Walter Blaufuss, Egbert Van Alstyne and Gus Kahn. It's a fine ballad, done winningly by the amazing Day.

She also is excellent in "Just One Girl," with sterling assistance from the Norman Luboff Choir and Paul Weston's orchestra. The waltz, dating from 1898, is by Lyn Udall and Karl Kennett.

One of the best remembered numbers from the score is "Ain't We Got Fun" from 1921. The authors were Richard Whiting, Raymond Egan and Gus Kahn. Doris is good and the choir is OK, but this is better performed as a duet.

In the film, "If You Were the Only Girl" also was sung by the two principals. Here it's a solo and still a winner. It's a 1916 English song by Nat Ayer and Clifford Grey, and a particularly melodious one.

In contrast, Doris can't do much with the awful "Be My Little Baby Bumble Bee." She is alternately coy and declamatory, and the Norman Luboff Choir is no help. The song works much better as a playful duet, such as on the MacRae LP, or in the film where Day is partnered by MacRae's rival, Russell Arms. Henry Marshall and Stanley Murphy wrote the piece in 1912.

The heartfelt Day solo "I'll Forget You" is much better. Ernest Ball and Annelu Burns composed this lovely ballad in 1921. The song is a high point on both albums.

The final song is Day's specialty "King Chanticleer," originally a 1912 instrumental by Nat Ayer that was recorded  by Prince's Band and many others. At some point A. Seymour Brown added words, and this is the basis of a barnyard opera as arrayed by Doris in the picture and on the cover above. It's too hectic for my taste, but musicals need variety, I suppose.

Gordon's Capitol LP

For his Capitol LP, Gordon MacRae had the significant advantage of a singing partner in the person of June Hutton, who was then making records for Capitol, generally accompanied by her husband, Axel Stordahl, a skillful former Dorsey staffer who was at the helm for most of Frank Sinatra's Columbia recordings.

June Hutton

It might be helpful to have a brief explanation of all the various Huttons who made records and films back then. June was the sister of bandleader Ina Ray Hutton. They were no relation to the movies' Betty Hutton and her sister, Marion, once of the Glenn Miller ensemble. None of them were born as Huttons; they adopted the name, presumably because of the popularity of "poor little rich girl" Barbara Hutton.

June followed Jo Stafford as the female voice in the Pied Pipers, going solo in the late 40s. She was quite a good singer. I expect to post the rest of her complete Capitol recordings soon.

Gordon is just home from the war and Doris is ready for marriage

MacRae of course was famous for his appearances on records, radio and films. The record starts off with his solo, "My Home Town Is a One Horse Town (But It's Big Enough for Me)," written by Alex Gerber and Abner Silver in 1920. Appropriately it's a march, with Gordon's character just home from the war.

June and Gordon pair for "Your Eyes Have Told Me So" and the saccharine "Be My Little Baby Bumble Bee." They perform the latter as if it were a vaudeville song, and it works better than the Day reading. 

Hutton had a much less extroverted manner than Day, which shows in "I'll Forget You." She is just as effective, however.

MacRae does wonderfully well with "Just One Girl," conveying his exhilaration irresistibly. He and Hutton then take on the title song, followed by "Ain't We Got Fun." Their two characters are middle class; shouldn't they have corrected the title to "Don't We Have Fun?"

Gordon and June also do well with "If You Were the Only Girl in the World," although Day is uniquely affecting in this number. 

I've added a non-film duet for Hutton and MacRae - "Coney Island Boat," which comes from another exercise in nostalgia, the 1954 Broadway show By the Beautiful Sea. It's the only other song that the two recorded together, also the only Capitol recording that June made without her husband; instead Van Alexander was in charge. The song is by Dorothy Fields and Arthur Schwartz, and was introduced by the talented and versatile Shirley Booth.

The Soundtrack Recording

As mentioned, the soundtrack recordings come from a long-ago bootleg. After some ministrations, the sound isn't bad at all.

The competing "songs from" LPs encompass all the songs on the soundtrack LP, so this is just provided as an alternate (and the original). The film does include other music from the time (save the anachronistic "La Vie en rose"), but I believe it is all instrumental background except for a vocal by Leon Ames (playing Doris' father) on "Moonlight Bay," a reference to the first film in the series.

The sound on the Columbia and Capitol albums is more than adequate. All these recordings, except for the "Coney Island Boat" single, are from my collection.

LINK

More from Maurice Duruflé

Last month in a tribute to the late Sir Andrew Davis, I mentioned the absence from the catalog of Maurice Duruflé's orchestral Trois danses. My friend and frequent commenter centuri quickly reminded me that the composer himself had recorded the work.

I say "reminded me" because I actually own a copy of the record. It contains a stimulating program that also includes Duruflé's Messe "Cum jubilo" and his a capella Quatre motets.

Duruflé (1902-86) was a French composer and organist who was severely self-critical and published relatively few works. A student of Paul Dukas, his lineage to the great Impressionists is apparent. He remained a musical conservative throughout his career.

Marie-Madelaine and Maurice Duruflé

Duruflé and his wife Marie-Madelaine Chevalier Duruflé (1921-99) were notable instrumentalists. Both were organists at Saint-Étienne-du-Mont in Paris. Anthony Tomassini wrote in the New York Times that Marie-Madelaine was "the last great exponent of the French Romantic school of organ playing, which valued elegant grandeur, textural clarity and rhythmic freedom." She is the organist in the Messe "Cum jubilo" on this LP. The Orchestre National de la ORTF is heard both in the mass and in the Trois danses.

Roger Soyer

The mass setting comes from 1966, but its sound world will be familiar to those who know the composer's 1947 Requiem, which itself was modelled on Gabriel Fauré's similar work of 1887-93. The Mass exists in several versions, for chorus alone, chorus and orchestra, and chorus and organ. The version on this LP subsumes all those forces, with soloist Roger Soyer (born 1939), a baritone who frequently appeared on records of the time. The Gramophone's Lionel Salter remarked that he displays "a voice of beautiful quality and a fine legato line."

Salter noted that the mass is based in the plainsong tradition, "hence both the absence of all vocal harmony or polyphony and the flexibility of metre."

The album also includes the Quatre motets sur des thèmes grégoriens for choir alone. Another familiar recording ensemble, the Chorale Stéphane Caillat, is heard in this work and the mass. The motets date from 1960.

Concluding the LP are the Trois danses, which include "Divertissements" and "Tambourin" along with the "Danse lente" that Andrew Davis programmed for his Requiem album. The suite is a relatively early work, written in 1936.

This music is all rewarding and engrossing, and these performances are presumably definitive.

My copy of the album is the US Musical Heritage Society pressing. In preference to that edition, I remastered the original Erato release from 1971-2, as found on Internet Archive. The choral works were recorded by Radio France in 1971. The recording of the Trois danses dates from 1968. Salter's assessment: "The playing of the ORTF Orchestra under the composer is polished and precise, and the recording notably well balanced." The critic dismissed the LP's liner notes as "wooly and superficial," to which I would add incomprehensible. Salter's review, included in the download, is a much better introduction to the music.

Tech note: this recording is presented in a 24-bit, 96kHz transfer. My own view is that this is overkill for an LP transfer and probably for capturing any music. There is, however, a demand for such a product, so I'll provide it to see if anyone notices the difference. My own transfers are made at 24-96 for editing purposes, so I might as well maintain that resolution for the masters. I may do this only for stereo classical recordings, but we'll see. Your views are welcome.

Update: reader Gabriel let me know about distortion on the choral voices in the Four Motets. I have now transferred these pieces from my own copy, the Musical Heritage Society pressing. It is an improvement. The new version is linked below. Also, I've added a 16-bit, 44.1kHz alternative.

LINK [Revised version, 24-bit, 96kHz]

LINK [Revised version, 16-bit, 44.1kHz]

Bull Moose Jackson, 'Big Ten-Inch Record' and Much More

When I started this blog 16 years ago, I decided to focus on 10-inch LPs, a long-forgotten niche and one that I had pursued for many years. What better name, I thought, than the old R&B hit, "Big Ten-Inch Record." Many people think the name is an allusion to the Aerosmith version of the song, but I was thinking of Bull Moose Jackson's 1952 original. I don't believe I've ever heard the later edition.

It's well past time for an homage to the Moose, so I have gone back to the original 78s and prepared this post of 18 songs dating from 1945 to 1952, ending, appropriately, with "Big Ten-Inch." You'll find Louis Jordan style romps, ballads a la Charles Brown, jump blues and instrumental features for Jackson's tenor sax.

A native of Cleveland, Benjamin Jackson (1919-89) first became known as an instrumentalist and sometimes vocalist with Lucky Millinder's big band, which combined jazz with the R&B sound that was gaining prominence in the 40s. The bandleader saw his potential, gave him the nickname "Bull Moose" and eventually became his manager.

The Moose's first records on his own were made for King while he was still in the Millinder band. Found as a country label in 1943, King soon branched out into R&B with the Queen imprint. Jackson was the first artist released on the subsidiary, which was folded back into King a few years later.

The first song in our set, dating from December 1945, is "Going Back to Cleveland Ohio," which is a straight-ahead blues notable for its strong beat, mellow vocal from Jackson, and idiosyncratic lyrics that veer from the fond into the profane when you least expect it - "She looks like a bear / Got hair everywhere / Her name is Trudy / and she's got loads of booty." The powerful backing is by members of Millinder's band, notably pianist Sir Charles Thompson, bass player Beverly Peer and drummer Panama Francis.

The song was retitled "Cleveland Ohio Blues" when it was reissued on King some time later.

Annisteen Allen

The following day, the same group cut "Oo-Oo Ee-Bob A Lee Bob," backing up Millinder vocalist Annisteen Allen, who swung hard and had a loud and cutting delivery that must have been effective live. "Oo-Oo Ee-Bob A Lee Bob" is a cover of "Hey! Baba Ree Bop," which had been a hit for Lionel Hampton, who himself was covering Helen Humes. Allen's record is more dynamic.

Also included in the collection is the flip side, an instrumental called "Jamin and Jumpin," a thinly disguised version of "Sweet Georgia Brown."

Lucky Millinder

As mentioned, Jackson was still in the Millinder band when the above recordings were made. I've included one side from Lucky's band that features the Moose - "Chitlin' Switch," a charming song that was covered by Johnny Otis among others. Jackson is the vocalist, and possibly the sax soloist, although that also might be the work of Sam "The Man" Taylor.

Before returning to King in late 1947, Jackson made a few records for the short-lived Super Disc label, which were reissued on M-G-M later on. The first is "Moose on the Loose," where Jackson shows off his tenor chops on a version of "Flying Home."

The Jackson band on the Savoy Ballroom marquee, New York, probably mid-1940s

"Keep Your Big Mouth Shut" is a enjoyable Louis Jordan-style story blues written by Rudolph Toombs and nicely dispatched by the Moose as the sad-sack protagonist.

The final Super Disc is "Memphis Gal," which is essentially "Going Back to Cleveland Ohio," including an identical final verse, although this time his gal's name is Judy instead of Trudy.

Henry Glover and Sally Nix

Jackson returned to King is August 1947 with an excellent four-song set, all of which are included here and all of which were written by Sally Nix solo or in tandem with producer Henry Glover.

The first is a bouncy boogie-woogie called "Sneaky Pete," a term that can refer to various types of alcoholic beverages, but here is probably a nod to fortified wine. It's very effective (the song, not the wine). For this record, the band was dubbed "His Buffalo Bearcats," a surprising name considering that Jackson hailed from Cleveland.

"I Love You Yes I Do" was one of the Moose's biggest hits. It's a nothing-special ballad, but it was extraordinarily popular on the basis of Jackson's sincere vocal.

Cash Box, November 15, 1947

More to my taste is the raucous boogie "I Want a Bowlegged Woman." That's one of the great titles of all time, and the record lives up to it. "She's gotta be built like an old bass fiddle / Big bow legs with plenty room in the middle," the Moose sings guilelessly.

If anything, "Fare Thee Well, Deacon Jones" is better. This faux-gospel number is set at the funeral of the good Deacon. One "little old lady" jumps up to pay her respects - "He was my old man for years / and he sure could shift his gears," she testifies. The band is the enthusiastic congregation for this one. It ends with the Deacon rising from the coffin and informing the mourners they're all going to hell, via a Cleanhead Vinson style stop-time recitation. The amusing Deacon is unfortunately unidentified.

Cash Box, July 10, 1948

The 1948 recording ban intervened, so Jackson's next session was in February 1949. "Don't Ask Me Why" is a bid to recreate the success of "I Love You Yes I Do." Same story with Henry Glover's "Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide."

"Little Girl Don't Cry" is another ballad - this time the Moose is covering a Millinder record that the bandleader wrote with Doris Davis. It's a good effort on a just-OK song.

The next (and final) ballad is "Not Until You Came Along," by Glover and King honcho Syd Nathan. Moose had enjoyed big hits with ballads, so they kept on a-comin'.

The remaining song from 1949 is "Why Don't You Haul Off and Love Me," a cover of a huge country hit by King's Wayne Raney, written by Raney and Lonnie Glosson. Jackson's cover is better than the original.

"Cherokee Boogie (Eh-Oh-Aleena)" is another cover of a King artist, Moon Mullican. It's the honky-tonk pianist's version of "Hey! Baba-Ree-Bop" adorned with stereotypical "Indian" effects. The tenor solo is probably by Sam Taylor. This comes from 1951.

Finally we arrive at "Big Ten-Inch Record," surely Jackson's best record and one of the finest R&B records of all time. It's one of those double-entendre songs that make use of the stanza break for effect: "I really get her going when I take out my big ten-inch / Record of the band that plays the blues." The unlikely author of this tune is Fred Weismantel, former arranger for Glenn Miller and George Paxton.

Although "Big Ten-Inch Record" was surely referring to 78s (what else?), I adopted it for this blog, which was originally for 10-inch LPs. I later expanded its purview to LPs of all sizes, and lately more and more 78s. The irreverent name almost certainly gives people the wrong idea, because the specialties around here are classical music and vocalists, although I do post music of many types.

Most of the 78s in this set were filched from Internet Archive then cleaned up for consumption. As with many vintage R&B records, the originals were very noisy. I've had some luck removing the sonic detritus for this post, while patching a few sections with lossy copies. You may notice a resulting difference in quality every once in a while. The saving grace is that with 78s - even from small companies - the sound can be very vivid and present.

Jackson largely retired from the music business later in the 1950s, and worked in catering. He was rediscovered in the 1980s and had some success until his death in 1989.

LINK

Hanson Conducts Gould, Barber and Hanson

Howard Hanson

The composer and Eastman School of Music head Howard Hanson (1896-1981) conducted a large number of American music recordings for the Mercury label in the 1950s and 60s.

Recently I posted the first in their "American Music Festival Series," a disc of choral music by Hanson and Randall Thompson. That post also has a link to other entries in the series previously offered here.

Today we have two related entries in the series: Vol. 3, with music by Morton Gould (1913-96) and Samuel Barber (1910-81); and Vol. 15, music by Barber and Hanson.

Hanson was a proponent and exponent of conservative, tonal music These two LPs are good examples of the genre.

Music by Gould and Barber

Vol. 3 of the American Music Festival Series, recorded in 1952, is one of the best entries in the collection. It starts with Morton Gould's wildly colorful Latin-American Symphonette (1940), followed by three popular Samuel Barber compositions, all in Hanson's typically taut readings with the Eastman-Rochester Symphony Orchestra.

Morton Gould

Not all the critics were pleased, of course. The American Record Guide sniffed at the Gould, calling it a "slickly stylized travelogue." Others were more sympathetic. The Gramophone: "A four-movement Sinfonietta is no novelty, but one based on four Latin-American dances is; orchestral arrangements of a rumba, tango, guaracha, and conga by good musicians are no novelty, but ones done with musical rather than commercial ends in view seem, unfortunately, to be so."

Writing in High Fidelity, Alfred Frankenstein complimented Barber's early works, the Overture to The School for Scandal (1931), Adagio for Strings (1936) and Essay No. 1 (1938), as "small-scaled, fine-grained, highly lyrical pieces." He also enjoyed Hanson's conducting. "All these works have been recorded before, but never with such conviction, understanding and deftness," he wrote.

Some writers commented that the sound lacked warmth, a result of Mercury's typical recording style: "There is stridency in his strings but this is a blessing in disguise because it puts a bite in Barber instead of lending the usual lachrymose character to his mighty miniatures," was the American Record Guide's verdict.

Music by Hanson and Barber

For Vol. 15, recorded in 1955, Hanson combined his new Sinfonia Sacra (Symphony No. 5), and his choral work The Cherubic Hymn (1949) with Barber's Symphony No. 1 (1936).

Alfred Frankenstein was taken with the performances: "Whatever reservations one may have about Howard Hanson as a composer, one must go all out in admiration of his conductorial gifts. His performance of the Barber symphony forces a complete revision of one’s attitude toward that far from obscure work. Previous recordings and performances have made it seem pale and well-mannered and guaranteed to do nothing much to anybody; Hanson, however, makes it sing, gives it body and strength and a genuinely impressive symphonic thrust."

Samuel Barber

Meanwhile, the critic did like at least one of Hanson's two compositions: "Hanson’s own Fifth Symphony, subtitled Sinfonia Sacra. is all right, but the Cherubic Hymn is a major achievement. It is a tribute to the spirit and color of the Eastern Orthodox liturgy, and a very good one."

The reviewer of the American Record Guide was more measured: "Hanson is a skilled craftsman, a very skilled craftsman, whose expressive message always has eluded these ears. But composers should compose and they should be heard, and the steady stream of Hansoniana on LP has been a small enough price to pay for his unrelenting dedication to the cause of others."

Howard Hanson

Mercury later combined the Barber recordings on one LP. Cover scans for that album can be found in the Vol. 2 download. Complete scans of the other LPs are included as always, along with reviews and a few ads.

LINK to Vol. 3 - Gould and Barber

LINK to Vol. 15 - Hanson and Barber

For more by these composers, follow the links below this post. Also, vintage recordings of the School for Scandal Overture and Adagio (by Ormandy and Toscanini) can be found on my other blog.

Finally, four of Hanson's earliest recordings, dating from 1939, can be found in a new post on my singles blog, with music by Charles Tomlinson Griffes, William Grant Still, Charles Vardell and Kent Kennan.

Lee Wiley Sings Cole Porter

The fourth composer songbook recorded by vocalist Lee Wiley was devoted to Cole Porter, issued in a 1940 Liberty Music Shop album.

It's the fourth songbook, that is, in its appearance on this blog; the Porter album actually was second in its date of recording, preceded by a George Gershwin set from 1939, and succeeded by the music of Rodgers and Hart (1940) and Harold Arlen (1943).

As before in this series, I've augmented the eight-selection Porter album with other Wiley recordings from the same general period. The bonuses brings the total number of songs to 11.

This collection displays the talents of the singer in both the clever and romantic songs associated with Porter, as well as her sensitivity in reflective pieces such as "Why Shouldn't I?"

Cole Porter Songs by Lee Wiley

The album leads off with an accomplished reading of "You Do Something to Me," one of two songs here from 1929's Fifty Million Frenchmen, and surely the more popular.

The next item is one of my favorite Porter compositions: "Looking at You," which is popular with some cabaret singers but otherwise ignored. Wiley is a persuasive advocate.

The song comes from the London revue Wake Up and Dream, where it was overshadowed by two of Porter's best known inspirations - "What is This Thing Called Love?", which doesn't appear in this collection, and "Let's Do It (Let's Fall in Love)" which does. The latter had actually been introduced by Irene Bordoni in 1928's Paris before being added to the London show.

Lee sings the third and fourth choruses of "Let's Do It," which are delightful and not often heard. She does not favor us with the seldom-performed verse, alas.

"Easy to Love" is from the 1936 Eleanor Powell musical Born to Dance, where it is sung by a game Jimmy Stewart, among other performers. The song is notably well constructed lyrically and memorable melodically. Lee is entirely comfortable with it.

"Why Shouldn't I?" is a treasurable song from Jubilee, a 1935 musical. It has become a standard but even so is superseded in popularity by that same score's "Begin the Beguine" and "Just One of Those Things." Wiley handles "Why Shouldn't I?" supremely well.

Paul Weston

As with other albums in this series, the eight selections were distributed between two sets of accompanists. The songs above, except "Let's Do It," are with a small band led by Paul Wetstein, in later years better known as Paul Weston. The accompaniment is discreet; the only musician who stands out is pianist Joe Bushkin, who is well matched to Wiley's style.

Joe Bushkin

The other songs are with a group identified as "Bunny Berigan's Music," which is far more assertive. The trumpeter has several characteristic solos; Bushkin is again on the piano bench.

Bunny Berigan

"Let's Fly Away" is one of the two most recognized songs from 1930's The New Yorkers. (The other is "Love for Sale.") It is an example of Porter's marvelous ability to produce smart lyrics. Parenthetically, I am fond of Noël Coward's second set of lyrics for this tune. They can be heard on the album Bobby Short Is Mad about Noël Coward.

Wiley is faultless in "Find Me a Primitive Man" ("I don't mean a kind that belongs to a club / But the kind that has a club that belongs to him"), supported by Berigan's growl trumpet and George Wettling's tom-toms. I don't even mind the slight bowdlerization of the lyrics because Wiley delivers the extended verse so well. The song is from Fifty Million Frenchmen.

The final song - "Hot-House Rose" - is almost unknown. The album notes date it to 1929, but the sheet music bears a 1927 publication date. It's a good but sad song that may have remained unrecorded until this collection: "When I saw those flowers all in bloom / I almost forgot my basement room. / I'm hot-house Rose from God knows where / the kind that grows without fresh air."  Wiley is attuned to this lament, although it was much different from her typical repertoire.

Cole Porter

Porter was pleased with the set. "I can't tell you how much I like the way she sings these songs," he wrote the annotator. "The combination of voice and musical accompaniment is excellent. Please give my congratulations to Lee Wiley."

As with other Liberty Music Shop records, the sound quality is reasonably good. Working from the Internet Archive 78s provides better fidelity than the LPs in my collection.

One final note: many alternate takes of these performances have been in circulation. I find such compilations to be too much of a muchness, but let me know if you disagree.

More Porter from Lee Wiley

Despite the composer's professed affinity for the vocalist, she did not make all that many recordings of his work. I've found only three more from this general time period.

Two are of the same song: "I've Got You Under My Skin" is from Born to Dance, where it was performed by the talented actor Virginia Bruce. Wiley recorded it in 1937 for Decca in a performance led by her mentor Victor Young. The vocalist was second-billed, and as usual in these circumstances, the orchestra performs a few choruses before the singing begins. We also have another reading of the song from an 1938 aircheck, done with an unidentified band.

Lee Wiley and Victor Young

Our final selection is a live performance of "Why Shouldn't I?" from a 1945 live set with an Eddie Condon-led band that included the ever-present and invaluable Joe Bushkin. Lee was having some vocal problems at this date. She never had much range, but here she misses notes that she previously could reach. It somehow makes this wistful song even more affecting.

These Wiley collections have been popular. While I've completed posting the 1939-43 songbooks, I have other collections coming up.

LINK

A Requiem for Sir Andrew Davis

The distinguished conductor Sir Andrew Davis has died at age 80 after a brief struggle with leukemia. Today a tribute to him in the form of one of his earliest recordings, the Requiem by Maurice Duruflé (1902-86).

Davis, who was famed for his genial nature and wide repertoire, began recording in 1974. After a one-off assignment for Decca leading the orchestra for an Ilana Vered concerto recording, he began making discs in 1975 for Columbia (CBS in England). This particular LP comes from early 1977, when the conductor was 32.

The young Andrew Davis

Duruflé's Requiem was not nearly as well known in the 1970s as it is today. Back then there were three recordings. Today there are dozens. I was delighted to come across Davis' disc when it came out, particularly as I had heard his Grieg and Borodin LPs and was impressed.

The Duruflé was clearly inspired by the Requiem of Gabriel Fauré, and is of a similar beauty. Writing in Stereo Review, David Hamilton described it as follows: "An amalgam of Gregorian chant, post-impressionist modalism, and a highly personal romanticism shaped by an unerring coloristic sense regarding both voices and instruments, it powerfully conveys reverence, tenderness, and drama."

Maurice Duruflé

Felix Aprahamian in The Gramophone: "Andrew Davis's devotion to the Requiem is evident from his movingly beautiful account of it." Others preferred the composer's own recording, although it is of the version with organ, while Davis conducts the orchestral edition.

Hamilton liked them both. While he called the composer-led disc "a unique and treasurable document," he added that "the new Andrew Davis reading on Columbia is a performance of wholly comparable merit, with more sharply delineated work by the soloists and choruses and impressive recorded sound."

The soloists and the choral work by the Ambrosian Singers and the Desborough School Choir were not universally praised, but Aprahamian was pleased: "Heard against [the] subtly coloured orchestral background of the New Philharmonia, the choral timbre is ideally liturgical. No disappointed Carmens among the chorus here, nor anything raucous about the boys' voices. Kiri Te Kanawa’s 'Pie Jesu' is impeccably beautiful in tone and expression, but the baritone soloist [Siegmund Nimsgern] is not guiltless of an operatic vibrato in the more passionate utterances of his part and not quite in the same class."

Dame Kiri Te Kanawa

The LP also contains another Duruflé work that was welcomed by the critics. Hamilton wrote, "The Danse Lente, which serves as a kind of postlude to the Requiem on the Davis recording, strikes me as a melding of Debussy's Faune and one of Satie’s Gymnopédies. It provides an eminently listenable experience that makes me regret the absence from the catalog of the other two pieces in Durufié's Op. 6, which dates from 1936." Strangely, there does not seem to be a recording even today.

In all, the record is a testament to Sir Andrew's skills, even at the outset of his recording career. May he rest in peace.

LINK

Casper Reardon - The First Jazz Harp Player

Casper Reardon (1907-41) didn't start out to become the first jazz harp player. He was a trained classical musician who had performed with the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Cincinnati Symphony.

But after a few of his Cincinnati students introduced him to the delights of popular music, he became interested enough that he began appearing on local radio playing jazz as "Arpeggio Glissando."

Eventually his avocation became a vocation, and he ended up in New York, in a recording studio with Red McKenzie and his group. That's where this story of Reardon's brief but eventful jazz odyssey begins.

This post covers 25 of the harpist's commercial recordings, including almost all of his output. Most of the other recordings, some airchecks and one film appearance are linked below. The recording used for this post are mainly remastered from Internet Archive transfers.

A biography of Reardon can be found on IMDb, written by Peter Mintun.

Early Recordings as a Sideman

Reardon's first recording session was in 1933, and involved musicians who have appeared several times on this blog - Jack Teagarden, Tommy Dorsey, Pee Wee Russell, Bud Freeman, and Eddie Condon. Three songs were set down, none of them issued at the time, but "Mean to Me" appeared on a private compilation a number of years ago in noisy but listenable shape.

The leading light is trombonist Teagarden, who immediately makes apparent the similarity of Fred Ahlert's melody to the "St. Louis Blues." McKenzie is the serviceable vocalist.

Red McKenzie and Jack Teagarden

Teagarden must have liked what be heard from Reardon, for he had the harpist in the studio the following year for a session that included the trombonist's brother Charlie, Benny Goodman and Frankie Trumbauer.

From the downbeat of the blues "Junk Man," Reardon is front and center of the ensemble, keeping up with some of the finest musicians of the time. His rhythm and phrasing fit beautifully with the other musicians. 

The harpist is not as central to "Stars Fell on Alabama" and the generic "Your Guess Is Just as Good as Mine," but still makes his presence known. The songs are mainly showcases for Teagarden, who is in excellent voice.

Benny Goodman and Jack Teagarden,
who looks like he may have swallowed his mouthpiece

Next, Paul Whiteman engaged Reardon for a two-day session in December 1934. The first two sides were devoted to compositions by the English pianist Reginald Foresythe, whose works were the type of high-toned popular music that Whiteman favored. The harpist does not play a pivotal role in these recordings, but they are interesting regardless.

The more ambitious is "Deep Forest (A Hymn to Darkness)," which Foresythe wrote with Andy Razaf and Earl Hines. (This performance does not include Razaf's lyrics. You can hear them in Foresythe's recording on YouTube.)

Reginald Foresythe

"Serenade to a Wealthy Widow" is a lively and memorable piece that is perhaps the best known of Foresythe's compositions. Its jaunty melody and irreverent title would seem to have inspired Raymond Scott's works.

The final Whiteman piece is "When I Grow Too Old to Dream." Vocally, the King's Men were a throwback to the 20s. Their singing is too impersonal for the lyrics; Kenny Sargent with Glen Gray is better. Both versions came out in 1935, timed to the release of the film The Night Is Young, with songs by Sigmund Romberg and Oscar Hammerstein II. The studio was trying (and failing) to turn Evelyn Laye and silent-era vet Ramon Novarro into a second Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy.

In early 1936, Reardon made four sides with the obscure Bob Terry for the Champion label. This collection includes two of them, both highly enjoyable although not well recorded. "It's Been So Long" is a Walter Donaldson-Harold Adamson song written for the film The Great Ziegfeld. "Sing an Old-Fashioned Song (To a Young Sophisticated Lady)" is by Fred Ahlert and Joe Young. Reardon has accomplished solos in both, albeit dimly reproduced. Bunny Berigan is the assertive trumpeter; Wayne Gregg the vocalist.

The 1936 Liberty Music Shop Recordings

The invaluable Liberty Music Shop label gave Reardon a chance to step out on his own, starting with an April 1936 date. He is the focus on the recordings, with anonymous backing that at least on these first songs includes the strings from Lud Gluskin's orchestra.

For his first number, the harpist chose one of Duke Ellington's best songs, "In a Sentimental Mood." It gets a lush treatment, with Reardon providing an obbligato accompaniment to a low-register clarinet and the string ensemble. This is followed by an up-tempo interlude where he swings the tune and the ensemble is the accompaniment. The song ends with flourishes from the harp player.

Will Hudson's "Tormented" is a nice complement to the Ellington song (and may have been influenced by it). Again, there are both slow and quick sections.

For his second Liberty Music Shop session that same year, Reardon was accompanied by a similar ensemble, this time with oboe and bass clarinet. For "Summertime," the instruments of the ensemble again take the main melody line, with the harp providing both secondary melodies and obbligato accompaniment. It's effective.

For "If You Can't Sing It (You'll Have to Swing It)" (aka "Mr. Paganini") Reardon essentially accompanies uncredited vocalist Bea Gierdorf. Presumably this song was chosen because it combines something approaching jazz with a nod to classical music. Introduced by Martha Raye in the film Rhythm on the Range, it was a hit for Ella Fitzgerald with Chick Webb's band.

In late 1936, Reardon appeared live with a group called the Three T's (Jack and Charlie Teagarden, Frankie Trumbauer). An aircheck of a few of their numbers can be found on YouTube.

1937-8: A Film Appearance, LMS and Master Sessions

Reardon's only film role was in 1937's You're a Sweetheart, which starred Alice Faye. The harpist was cast as "Cousin Caspar" (sic), who had a featured spot where he played "Ain't Misbehavin'" and the "St. Louis Blues." He's introduced as "the only man living who can play hot music on a harp." The clip can be seen on YouTube.

'Cousin Caspar'

Another version of "Junk Man" was recorded for the film, but is not in the final release. It can be heard from a playback disc, also on YouTube.

Reardon's final session for Liberty Music Shop was in May 1937. His first selection was "Washboard Blues," a 1925 Hoagy Carmichael song. For contrast the harpist chose Cole Porter's "What Is This Thing Called Love?", a 1929 song that was influential with jazz artists. For these songs, his backing musicians are mainly limited to accompaniment in the former song, but make themselves known in the Porter tune.

Reardon's next record date was with the small Master label, which had a well-chosen array of artists, including Duke Ellington, Raymond Scott, Willard Robison and Adrian Rollini. Even so, it didn't last long.

There is some dispute about when the sessions took place - 1937 or 1938 - and even which ones involved Reardon. But we do have one disc that combined his recording of Fats Waller's "Ain't Misbehavin'" with his second of Ellington's "In a Sentimental Mood." Both are with a large band playing busy arrangements by Franklyn Marks, who worked for Charlie Barnet and others. Reardon's harp is a bit under-recorded, unfortunately.

One source I consulted suggested that Reardon also appears on two songs recorded at the time time, one issued by Master under Marks' name (another "Washboard Blues") and another apparently led by Lou Raderman ("A Blues Serenade") that may not have been issued. I haven't been able to locate either.

In 1938, Reardon appeared in Rodgers and Hart's I Married an Angel. He is not heard on any of the commercial recordings associated with the show, such as the ones I posted a year ago, but Peter Mintun has found airchecks of him playing the title song on two occasions, plus an interview and a performance of "I Can't Give You Anything But Love," all of which can be found on his Soundcloud site. Peter has a 1935 radio interview as well.

The Final Recordings

Reardon made some of his finest recordings for the Schirmer label in 1940. His first Schirmer session, in February 1940, was with a small ensemble and yielded four sides, all standards - "I Can't Give You Anything But Love," "I Got Rhythm," "Easy to Love" and "They Didn't Believe Me." The latter two have vocal solos by Loulie Jean Norman, who sounds slightly ill at ease.

Reardon also recorded two classical works for Schirmer - Debussy's "En bateau" and a piece by the harpist's teacher, Carlos Salzedo. The Debussy can be found on Peter Mintun's site.

Casper Reardon and Dana Suesse

Mintun, an authority on Dana Suesse, says that Reardon had met Gus Schirmer in 1939 through Suesse, whose compositions were recently celebrated on this blog. She recalled to Peter, "Casper told me about having an engagement with the Philadelphia Symphony and wanted me to write something for him." She decided to compose a suite with the title, "Young Man with a Harp." The title is a play on the popular 1938 book "Young Man with a Horn," based on Bix Beiderbecke's life.

The session with the Philadelphia Orchestra was at Robin Hood Dell, conducted by Alexander Smallens. There also was a performance by the Rochester Civic Orchestra led by Guy Fraser Harrison.

78 album cover

Schirmer agreed to record the piece in 1940, although not with orchestra. The performers were Reardon, Suesse on piano and Chauncey Morehouse on percussion instruments. The work comes off quite well. The movements pay homage to the instrument's ancient history ("Processional - Thebes 1300 BC"), its historic association with Ireland ("Evensong - Ireland 1300 AD"), and its use in modern popular music ("20th Century Madrigal"). The suite is a brilliant showcase for the harpist.

Casper Reardon died of undiagnosed kidney disease in 1941 at age 33. Dana Suesse wrote a memorial for him, "Coronach," a beautiful work that can be found on Peter Mintun's site. He writes, "It was Dana's musical way of saying farewell to a significant friend and colleague."

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