INTRODUCTORY NOTE

Perhaps the most interesting set of documents generated by the popularity of blackface minstrelsy in the 1840s is the published sheet music based on the songs it generated. This music, which was widely published, provides important and unique evidence of the lyrics, the tunes, the rhythms, and in some cases the jokes and patter used in performance, evidence used in a number of studies in recent years (see Mahar's work in particular). No document is without its challenges, however; and this 'Artists Respond' exercise exposes some of those challenges.

The sheet music generated by minstrelsy's popularity created a strange scenario. Though a rough-and-tumble working class form, it had to some extent cleaned up its act in an effort to appeal to the middle classes, and even the aristocracy. An important part of its income, it can be argued, was the selling of sheet music to that new audience, in so doing moving its songs out of the streets and into the parlours of Britain and America. It stands to reason--indeed, it is quite clear--that what was printed was not what was performed on the stage, but in some measure translated into what was appropriate for this new, amateur and polite venue. 'In some measure' is the important phrase, for some of the roots of minstrelsy are lost in the adaptation, some remain. The whole can become quite difficult to interpret for a modern listener.

With this in mind, we selected the most widely sung songs from the 1840s minstrel show in Britain, according to the database created for this project. We assembled from the British Library (which holds thousands of examples) the sheet music that was published earliest and was most clearly associated with specific troupes or singers. However, rather than attempting to approximate how it might have sounded on stage, we took the music 'as printed', and asked a talented singer and musician to consider how it might have sounded when performed by the document's original purchaser--the early Victorian middle class family at home.

Picture the event: a young lady (in this case) in the family parlour, singing for friends or parents, showing off her talents and vocal and pianoforte training, while at the same time evoking an at least moderately disreputable form of entertainment. The results can be heard in these recordings. For the musician, there are opening and closing musical arrangements that seem to have nothing to do with the song, apparently included to test the skills of the amateur performer. Conversely, there are moments in the middle of a song when the arrangement strayed from the expectations of the musician; we speculated that this perhaps indicated a part of the stage version that didn't 'translate' well to the piano vocal score, and perhaps represented something originally played on a different instrument (the fiddle or banjo). For the singer, the arrangements that were strongly operatic, and in some cases tested the range of her soprano voice, quite contrary to any sound that might be heard in the stage versions. On the other hand, they were sung in dialect, and with occasional comic flourishs (dropping an octave in one note, for example).

The result evokes a number of associations: the long tradition of setting so-called 'folk music' as a kind of 'art song' to improve its status, but in effect suppressing all aspects of the original song except tune and dialect; the similar 'argument' for the legitimacy of the song despite its origins, because it has been now made 'difficult', requiring a particular kind of training, and also a tone that associates it with a Western European tradition to which it does not otherwise belong; on the other hand, it is clearly parodic in its embedded use of operatic 'samples' with dialect lyrics, sudden changes of pitch and tone, the re-location of romance and adventure from the open seas to the river barge, from the parlour to the plantation; and, finally, we can see in these renditions the early Victorian equivalent to the infiltration of any alternative music and culture into the 'respectable' home by partial adaptation. The minstrel song in the parlour is no different in kind to the piano vocal scores of Rock and Roll making their way into the piano lessons and living rooms of the 1960s, not to mention the 'covers' of such songs by performers who would be acceptable in those living rooms--say, Pat Boone covering Little Richard. Boone sings 'Tutti Frutti' in a way that, on first hearing, seems to bowdlerize it completely. But on reflection--it's still about sex. Just so Lucy Long; no matter how beautiful the voice, Lucy is still sold off for corn.

--Stephen Johnson

A NOTE ON EDITIONS

All editions used for this project are from the manuscript collection at the British Library. In the description page for each song (accessible by clicking the links at left), we have recorded all relevant available information for these editions. Shelf numbers have been provided in all instances, and, when available, the publisher, the date of publication and the date of accession have also been provided. A quick glance through the inventory will reveal two important characteristics of the present collection, which also holds true for the entire corpus of minstrel songs published during the nineteenth century: first, these songs were published in both the United States and Great Britain. In the United States publishing houses were also located at Boston and Philadelphia while in Great Britain they appear to be exclusively located at London. Second, the most voluminous publisher of these songs was B. Williams of London. Indeed, Mr. Williams’ Encyclopedia of Music and its attendant “Selection of the Most Popular Ethiopian Songs” might very well represent the most comprehensive collection of popular minstrel songs to be published during the nineteenth century.

In all instances we opted to use the earliest accessioned or published version of a song unless the arrangement proved to be problematic. Many minstrel songs published in these types of editions during the mid-nineteenth century were arranged for multiple voices; no doubt indicative of a tradition of convivial singing that was itself an influence in the development of the British music hall. Given the repetitive nature of these songs, we’ve also opted to record one verse and one chorus with a few notable exceptions. For further information on the historical location of these songs, transcriptions of lyrical variants and additional sound recordings, we encourage you to visit the Minstrelsy Database.

--Mark Turner