‘Thwarted Histories of Electronic Music’ @ Institute for Danish Sound Archaeology salon, Copenhagen

Last week I gave a presentation titled ‘Thwarted Histories of Electronic Music’ at a special sound archaeology salon organised by the Institute for Danish Sound Archaeology as part of the Gong Tomorrow festival in Copenhagen, Denmark. There’s a long and digressive blogpost covering it on the main Miraculous Agitations blog.

My talk was about the pre-history of electronic music, but also acknowledged the ongoing dynamics that bring about thwarted histories in the historical continuum. Thwarted histories are discovered whilst scrounging across auctionhouses, second-hand bookshops, bins, and other venues at culture’s tail end – the histories I presented were excavated in this way… They included Johann Baptist Schalkenbach’s electrical music, Alfred Graham’s Victorian feedback device, the first electronic sequencer of 1925, and Delawarr Laboratories thought-to-frequency Multi-Oscillator. It has been an enduring source of surprise to me that these unknown episodes I’ve excavated have not found wider interest among publishers (I did self-publish a comb-bound edition of ‘The Magnetic Music of the Spiritual World‘ in 2015) and in the light of this I’ve come to theorise that ‘thwarted histories’ have an almost occult aspect wherein their essence of neglect can somehow persist into the present-day.  The question is: how can this thwarting force be grappled with?  Possible answers were touched upon during other talks at the salon…

Read an extended summary of the salon over at the Miraculous Agitations blog.

Organised Sound – Alternative Histories of Electroacoustic Music – August 2017

My paper – ‘Failed Histories of Electronic Music‘ – appears in issue 2 (vol. 22) of Organised Sound.  It brings to light some electronic music precedents that have never received detailed attention, if at all.

The background of the ‘failed histories’ concept is given in a new blogpost over at my Miraculous Agitations blog – click here.  It raises many questions, including “why can’t I earn a living from my research?”

Victorian electro-musical variety hall acts / The Art of Noises in London, 1914

There are two new blog posts over at the Miraculous Agitations blog.  ‘The Wire #364 – and Interestingnesses on the Art of Noises‘ gives a bit of background information to the Futurists’ Art of Noises in London, 1914.  Two important sources are transcribed and downloadable.  The Art of Noises centenary is a good cue to examine other bombastic and groundbreaking music hall antecedents, and this is found in the latest issue of The Wire magazine.

The second post follows up with some information on Clickety-Click (reperformed and hosted here by The Wire) – ‘Clickety-Click – The earliest surviving electrical musical score?‘.  Clickety-Click was an early electro-musical score published circa 1887, unearthed during my research into acoustic novelties of that era.  The recreation was carried out at Resonance 104.4FM by myself, Fari Bradley (piano), Chris Weaver (microphonics) and Toby Clarkson (photographics) – all members of Oscillatorial Binnage as it goes – one of our more unusual and educational productions!


LMJ #23 – "Electric Music" on the Victorian Stage

There are many obscure, under-explored sonic marvels to be found in the old music hall annals – I’m rustling to publish a detailed survey soon.  In the meantime, the latest Leonardo Music Journal (#23) features my paper on ‘electrical music’ in Victorian music halls, focussing specifically on the work of the eccentric Johann Baptist Schalkenbach and his imitators.  In the 1860s Schalkenbach developed an act in which he played on an amalgamation of instruments he called the Piano-Orchestre Électro-Moteur (built around a reed harmonium).  Whilst playing, he would simultaneously trigger musical, noise and optical effects via the electromagnetic triggering of circuits connected to objects placed around the hall.  It’s a delicate precursor to the noise machines of the Italian Futurists.  Over the decades, the apparatus gradually became more spectacular as new features were added.


For some years now I’ve been hunting down ephemera relating to Schalkenbach and his copycats in the hope of shedding some light on the electrical music contraptions.  Precious little information exists, despite Schalkenbach performing for almost 40 years.   LMJ 23’s “‘Electric Music’ on the Victorian Stage: The Forgotten Work of J.B. Schalkenbach” forms the most complete account so far of Schalkenbach’s work.  My research also suggests that in the 1870s Schalkenbach assisted in the construction of acoustic magic tricks for celebrated magicians Maskelyne and Cooke.  Schalkenbach’s conspicuous absence from the “standard” prehistory of electronic music can perhaps be accounted for by the lack of credible information about the electrical aspects of his Piano-Orchestre Électro-Moteur.  Minor gripes rooted in nationalism possibly also contributed to his present obscurity – one early review states that Schalkenbach’s act met with great applause, but: “we fancy it would have gained still greater favour but for [his] singular resemblance to the great German Chancellor Prince Bismarck, which did not quite please some of the audience.”

Maskelyne & Cooke’s Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly. (Demolished in 1905)

Schalkenbach played upon the mysteriousness surrounding “electrical music”.  One newspaper reporter presumed that the rain sounds were electrically produced: “in a moment even electricity travels to the roof of the building and also to the apparatus around the hall, and causes vibrations as if a thunderstorm were heard approaching from the distance; you hear the howling of the wind and the downfall of a torrent of rain.”   Investigations reveal that, in reality, the electric action was only employed to control a door, releasing buckshot that rattled down concealed descending shafts (later to become a popular off-stage acoustic rain effect).  But Schalkenbach’s instrument was nevertheless very sophisticated.   In the 1890s, an electrical journal asked, “was it telephonically or phonographically that Herr J. B. Schalkenbach transmitted sounds to a distance?”  It is unlikely that either of these techniques were employed.  It appears to have been primarily electromagnetic triggering (including percussive sounds, motors, release mechanisms, explosives, detonations and light effects), the possibility of trembling-bell style feedback, and the basic wind bellows with their artful acoustic couplings through pipes and funnels.  Although, there are still many mysteries.

The descriptive, noisy, electrically actuated music pioneered by Schalkenbach was subsequently copied by many music hall acts, including Professor Beaumont (aka John Walmsley Beaumont) “Necromancer and Electric Musician”, Herr Renier, and most interestingly, H. F. Juleene (aka John Parsons) and Dot D’Alcorn (aka Susette D’Alcorn), a double act who titled their demonic centrepiece Mephisto.   Dot D’Alcorn is possibly the first professional female performer of an electrical musical instrument.  Juleene and Schalkenbach had an interesting run-in played out in the The Era stage newspaper involving aggressive placement of adverts.

In performance, Schalkenbach played his own music (which does not seem to have survived), and also included selections from operas, such as Daniel Auber’s La muette de Portici‬ and The Storm from Rossini’s William Tell.   Mephisto on the other hand, was more grounded in music hall styles, and some original Juleene compositions do exist.  Dot D’Alcorn would play the electric instrument dressed as Mephistopheles.  I have transcribed the surprisingly twee Mephisto Gavotte (the electrical parts are not scored) – it gives a flavour of the Mephisto repertoire.  It is a MIDI arrangement:

Schalkenbach and his ilk are particularly interesting in relation to the post-electronic music techniques outlined on this blog and elsewhere.  In ‘post-electronics’, acoustic sounds are wrought with close adherence to classical electronic music techniques.  Essentially: acoustics aspiring to electronic sound.  In Schalkenbach’s art, acoustics likewise aspire (or are styled) to ‘electric’ sound despite the utter non-existence of any “electric music” listening paradigms at that time(!).  Schalkenbach produces acoustic sounds – musical and non-musical – distant from the console, and presents them enigmatically as electrically produced sounds – sounds of mysterious provenance: the beginnings of sound art.

More coming soon…

Leonardo Music Journal #23 is out now.