January, 1934. Radio listeners had a new treat waiting for them at the local newsagents: a bumper magazine jam packed full of articles about all things in radioland. Radio Pictorial included up and coming programmes, articles about the BBC, features on popular dance bands and radio stars.
For this issue, I found an article by Val Gielgud (brother of the actor John Gielgud) of particular interest. Fond of detective stories, Val wrote many radio plays in this genre with editor of the Radio Times, Eric Maschwitz.
As far as I am aware, no British radio dramas from the 1930s survive, but Sherlock Holmes radio plays dramas Val directed in the 1950s, with his brother John playing the detective survive.
In the above article, the reader learns that Val was a rather eccentric character with his monocle and pipe, and fond of serious radio plays. He was of the opinion that comedy worked better in a visual form (which would of course have been film and theatre in those days).
In July 1930 Val directed the first ever television drama, The Man with the Flower in His Mouth, by Luigi Pirandello.
Radio Pictorial also included some adverts of very attractive radio sets.
I really would’ve found it hard to have chosen between this beautiful Ekco Radio and the Falcon set shown below. The Falcon is especially Art Deco looking!
Then we have these classy Equilode speakers, which were the height of technology in 1934.
A very rare collection of British radio broadcasts, from 1932, which are charming to listen to. I have noticed on YouTube and Instagram that some clever technical fellas rescue old radio sets and adapt them with modern day wiring to turn them into speakers. Broadcasts such as these, would sound perfect through an old radio repurposed as a speaker. It would be doing what it was made to do…
Pdfs of the Val Gielgud article and radio ads can be downloaded below.
Another article from the November issue of Radio Review from 1935; this one is by the musician Les Allen who was a saxophonist and vocalist, born in Ealing, London in 1902. His family moved to Canada when he was 3 years old, where he grew up. In 1924 Les came to London with other Canadian musicians.
After touring Europe for a time, Les returned to London in 1927, the following 5 years saw him playing and singing with several leading British dance bands, such as those led by Geraldo and Carroll Gibbons. He also did some free lance recordings with Al Bowlly. As he described in the above article, he joined Henry Hall’s BBC Dance Orchestra in 1932, where he was the featured vocalist. Below is one of the recordings he made with Henry Hall.
In the article Les related that Henry had heard one of his recordings on the radio and got in touch with him to arrange an interview. He waited to hear from Henry and got a sudden call to fill in for Henry’s usual vocalist who was ill. Les of course jumped at the chance! He found himself thrown into the deep end, having only two hours to learn and rehearse “some fifteen to eighteen numbers, fully a dozen which were unknown to me. Heaven knows how I did it.”
It was all worth it though, because Les wasn’t that well known at this point in his career, and he soon found himself receiving fan mail from “love sick maidens who poured out their hearts to me.” To his readers he asked: “How would you feel?” I expect he was quite delighted but he “managed to keep my size in hats down.” What a quaint way to put it!
He credited Henry Hall in helping him stay “level headed.” He found the dance band leader to be a “fine old English gentleman” who acted as his “guide, philosopher and friend” who treated his musicians with kindness, enjoyed a joke and really got to know the musicians as friends. Henry was very approachable and was always amenable to giving advice to the musicians in his orchestra.
Les described how much hard work went into their broadcasts but clearly enjoyed it nevertheless. So much professionalism went into what they did. When Les got offered work in variety, Henry didn’t try to prevent him pursuing it and wished him well, with his band Les Allen and His Canadian Bachelors. Below is one of the recordings Les made with this band.
An immersive vintage experience: last Tuesday’s lunch, cooked as authentically as possible from a 1940 cookbook. I only substituted the butter for Flora margarine, the milk for organic almond milk and the cheese for Applewood vegan cheese (I seem to be lactose intolerant so I’m on plant based alternatives for dairy).
I admit to steaming the potatoes in the microwave instead of baking them in the oven to save electricity and time, but the rest of the methods I stuck to. I used a mechanical blender which I chopped the nuts up in.It’s called a Multi Chef, and I’ve had it for about twenty years, which to some people, is getting on for vintage.
I’ve actually got a blue metal 1930s/1940s mincer/chopper, but it’s a bit rusty, not very operational, and so kept for display rather than use, but the Multi Chef is a modern version of a hand turned mincer/chopper.I do like to use my vintage kitchenware if it’s safe (no lead glazes, flaking paint or rust) and operational. The kitchen scales work very well and look very attractive. I did buy a digital one last year but couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to use it, so I gave it to a friend.
You must be wondering by now: how did the Nut Pudding turn out? It turned out exactly as described! It took about thirty minutes in the oven on moderate heat as instructed. The Applewood vegan cheese melted and took on that slight crispy, stringy texture of cow’s milk cheese, and was surprisingly like dairy cheese. I had only ever had it cold and grated on jacket potatoes, in gluten free rolls/bread and mixed in salads before. So, if anyone reading this is vegan, this recipe can also be made into a vegan one, by using the plant based alternatives as I did, but also using a vegan egg replacer.
The Nut Pudding tasted very vintage and wholesome, and I drizzled some tomato ketchup over it and served it with vegetables and some leftovers of sweetcorn and a home-made butter bean dip, as seen in my little slideshow. It’s quite substantial; a hearty Autumnal meal. The nut content has enough protein not to need another protein served with it, so some steamed vegetables are the perfect accompaniment.If you like heavier flavoured food, which a lot of us today like, myself included, you could add some spices of your choice to the dish when you mix it with the milk in the saucepan.
The music in my slideshow is entitled Amapola by Geraldo and his orchestra, and was one of the recordings on a Memory Lane CD named *Singers On Parade that I was listening to whilst cooking the Nut Pudding. When dining on the Nut Pudding, I listened to a special 1936 radio broadcast of Oscar Rabin’s Romany Band. It has recently been discovered! You may listen to it on YouTube, as I did:
This cookbook I found in Tesco’s book donation point about four years ago. It is entitled Farmhouse Fare. The recipes are from real housewives and “collected by The Farmers Weekly.” The Farmers Weekly, a magazine for British farmers had its first issue on the 22nd of June, 1934. It is still in circulation today. The front cover of the cookbook is no longer attached to the spine (but all the pages are intact so they sit inside it); it’s got foxing and an ink splotch on the cover, so it isn’t an especially “pretty” looking book, but I love it for its character and history (and of course the recipes). To me, it is very special.
Inside the front cover written in blue ink can be seen : Mrs D Davies, 52 High St Criccieth. This building in Wales still exists! It is now a delicatessen. A photo of it can be seen in the link below:
I wonder if this was once the house of Mrs Davies, or was it a shop that she worked in and lived above? She might even have cooked the Nut Pudding herself a few times and served it up to her family. All those years ago I bet she never would’ve imagined someone in the future would find her cookbook and be trying out the recipes, and wondering about her life. The same goes for Mrs Taylor from Buckinghamshire who created the Nut Pudding recipe. I wonder if it was a family favourite and her descendents still cook it?
The recipe for Savoury Nut Pudding can be downloaded here as a pdf file:
An advertisement for radio sets with a new concept back in 1938: push buttons to take the listener to another channel, instead of turning the dial. Move over DAB radio! Below is an actual Pilot radio set in action. This one is the usual one, with a dial to tune in. I love its Art Deco appearance. The way it sits there on the sideboard proudly!
Front cover of the September the 16th, 1938 issue of Radio Pictorial.
I’m very glad there was no modern pop music coming out of it; doesn’t seem right that these old radios should have those sounds coming out of them. My Camry CD retro radio has never been tuned into any radio station; instead I just play CDs on it of 1930s dance band music. I’ve got some Ray Noble CDs that are from his American radio broadcasts, so that gives a great atmosphere of listening to a vintage broadcast.
On the page of the advert are tips from various chaps on “how to get the most of your set.” I am not at all technical, so I don’t know if these tips and suggestions are equally as helpful to the modern collector of old radio sets.I thought it would still be of interest to such fellows, so a pdf of the page is below.
This issue of Radio Pictorial also contained a full page feature photograph of Al Bowlly: on that night he was going to be on the BBC radio show Give Me Air, aired at 7.30 pm.I wonder what he sang…
This amusing article on the subject of “fan mail” radio stars received in the 1930s illustrates just how engaged people were with what they listened to on the radio. I suspect that some of the references are “gags” that are lost on us today (referencing the themes and content of certain broadcasts).
It might be difficult for youngsters these days to imagine that people listened to dramas and comedies at home on the radio, when everything is visual in this time period. They would’ve had to have been actively listening so as to not lose the plot or story line: no option to pause when you needed to nip to the lavatory or make a cup of tea!
Mention drama to almost anyone today and they will immediately think of television. Of course there are podcasts on the internet, but I am unsure of who their audiences are; whether they tend to be older people, rather than the youngsters. (From what I can gather the podcast Uncanny on the BBC website seems to be popular. It is a series of real life paranormal and ghost stories, which is a subject that never seems to lose appeal, so it probably explains why it has a good audience).
I suppose it could be said that internet podcasts are the modern equivalent of radio (auditory) dramas that encourage audience participation. I’m aware that there are still some dramas on actual radio stations, but I get the impression that internet podcasts are more popular. I do online surveys which often want to know if I listen to podcasts, and how often etc.
Podcasters, if they have enough followers will receive a certain amount of emails, but I doubt they have many, if any letters and items posted to them. Certainly not the odd assortment of things that the Radio Pictorial article describes the 1930s radio people receiving! False teeth; a live (presumably not a pet “fancy” type) rat sitting in a basket; six orange pips in a matchbox; smoking pipes; and assortments of cakes and biscuits. Such witty and eccentric listeners!
Here is a clip of radio listeners at home in the 1930s. Whilst there does seem to be some element of staging, we do get an impression of how central the radio was for home entertainment. I also find it visually interesting: the radios themselves, the clothing and home decor. Unfortunately there’s no sound, but you can choose a 1930s recording to listen to whilst you watch to add to the appeal.
Some people hoard away the theatre programmes of shows they have seen, and most of us have a niche in our memories for certain songs we have heard in the theatre.It is pleasant to wander down Memory Lane to music. . .
So says the below article from Popular Music And Dancing Weekly magazine from 1934. I don’t suppose many people collect theatre programmes nowadays, and with digital and online media we can hear songs from almost anywhere whenever we want. But back inthose days unless the song you liked was played on the radio, or released on a shellac record you were quite likely never to hear it again. Imagine hearing a tune just the once and longing to hear it again . . .
Popular Music And Dancing Weekly, November the 17th, 1934
For the reasons I mentioned above, John Watt’s radio programmes “Song of the Shows” and “Song of the Films” were very popular with listeners. The above article describes how much work went into giving listeners what they wanted. John Watt sounded like a genial fellow, and despite being a well known radio producer in 1934, is virtually forgotten today. He has a very short Wikipedia entry which doesn’t even mention these two shows. I would have been one of his avid listeners, had I been living then.
Below is a video of a shellac record playing on a gramophone a recording from one of John’s Songs Of The Shows. He introduces the tunes in that vintage BBC Radio voice we never hear anyone speak like today. I rather like it though!
This video is a John Watts shellac record of Songs From The Shows; this time on an early record player! Just look at how sturdy the record player’s arm is!
John Watt’s Songs From The Films: Songs of Bing Crosby:
There is something poignant about these radio shellac records: they are momentos of an almost forgotten era, which in terms of history is really quite recent. They were recorded so that people could not forget their favourite songs. I hope that they will gain new listeners so that this era’s music will not be lost in time.
The article about John Watt can be downloaded here in pdf format:
I acquired this interesting ninety year old radio magazine from Ebay a few months ago; since it is now exactly ninety years this month when it was produced it seems the right time to make a post about it. It isn’t in the best condition as you can see from the front cover below. I don’t mind though; adds to its charm!
I suppose the chap who originally bought it made use of it well. One of the featured radios in this magazine is charmingly named the Aristocratic Midget. It cost £10, which is approximately worth £696.63 today. Yet, the radio magazine is of the opinion that this is not expensive! The price of radios today are so much cheaper than back then. I suppose you can pay about £400 for a very high end fancy DAB Bluetooth DAB radio, but really, a standard radio costing around £30 will more than do its job. The interesting thing is a radio that will cost almost this much today, will be an original 1930s radio. Or more likely, even more than that. I’ve seen some on Ebay listed for around £2,000; although they tend to be the larger models than the Midget.It´s interesting that in this digital age, 1930s radios still hold the same value!
For some people, the design of these 1930s Art Deco radios have never lost their appeal. They have an aesthetic that is very pleasing to look at, and are a great feature in home decor. There are now many little retro radios being made inspired by their design: Amazon has quite a few on their website. They are even retro radios with CD players made to resemble them.
Here is the model I got second hand from Ebay last year.It even has a sort of warm old sound to it. I am very pleased with it because when the lid is down on the CD it does give the sound and feel of listening to an old radio broadcast. I’ve never used it to actually tune into a radio station because there are no stations that exclusively play a dance band broadcast or 1930s style radio show. Those type are all on the internet these days (which is a subject for a future post).
For some men in the 1930s building radios was a popular hobby. Below are instructions on how to build the Midget radio.
Below is a downloadable pdf of the Midget radio pages and the instructions.
Here is a short film of British workers in a radio factory in London. There are many women working there!
This clip from 1936 shows the building of the wooden cases of the radios, then on to making the components. There really was a lot of skill and craftsmanship, not to mention a lot of time, applied in making these wonderful old radios. This film was made in Latvia.
For us today the use of a microphone in radio, recording music, in live events and television is so usual, so we perhaps can’t imagine just how new and marvellous it was for people in music and entertainment in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Previous to this people had to project their voices and use megaphones (which unfortunately tended to distort the voice). I won’t linger on the history of early recording techniques, but for anyone who’d like to read about that there is an overview on Wikipedia:
The invention of the microphone opened up many new possibilities and was an exciting development for radio broadcasting and amplifying the human voice. For the first time a singer could sing softly in a theatre and be heard at the back!It’s not surprising then that the style of singing named “crooning” became popular.The microphone was a gift to a crooner(more on that later).The invention of the microphone has an interesting history, going back to the megaphones of fifth century BC Greece. The carbon microphone was actually invented in the 19th century, by David Edward Hughes.
From the January 12th, 1935 edition of Popular Music And Dancing Weekly magazine here is an article by Bertram Fryer who was a BBC radio producer.
Here are some of the things Bertram Fryer had to say about the microphone:
Radio broadcasting does, I suppose, look easy—at first glance. You just stand up and say things to a small box arrangement ! Well, at first sight, so do stage and screen acting look simple, but we know that talent and training go to make up the actor.
And, though few people realise it, there is a very great deal more in radio broadcasting than saying a few words to a microphone. There is a definite technique of broadcasting, different from stage work, or screen acting—a new “third dimension” of entertainment art.
The all-conquering microphone is the cause of it. The mike is a queer affair. It does the most peculiar things to the human voice. Scarcely anybody who has heard their own voice coming from a loudspeaker (which can be done by means of the “speak back ” recording system) has recognised it.
The last paragraph I find especially interesting because he states that people were unable to recognise their own voice when hearing it on a microphone for the first time. I suspect that has more to do with the the human ear hears its own voice, rather than any deficits in the microphone technology of the 1930s. People were simply not used to hearing their voices amplified, so it was a “startling” experience, as he says in the next paragraph. Even today it can be so.It can make one feel self conscious.
So, the mike demands a brand-new technique from all performers. It also creates a new typo of audience reaction, and therefore demands new style material. It was because I realised what a startling new art broadcasting had become that I am to-day working hard teaching people the tricks of the mike in my own studios.
Your favourite radio star does not, of course, just stand up in front of the B.B.C. microphones and say his or her piece. The real radio artiste plays to the mike. The good broadcaster knows where to stand, how to pitch the voice, how to achieve the right touch. He knows what words or sounds will jar your ears ; he knows how long his material should run.
The unfortunate inexperienced broadcaster, however, confronts the microphone, probably for the first time, at his long-awaited B.B.C. audition, and fails hopelessly, either through ignorance of the “mike ” or through nerves.
This is something that hasn’t changed! Despite the microphone no longer being a new technology; people new to entertainment, just starting out in their career, can be nervous stood in front of the microphone, or, more usual today, holding it in their hand.
The most experienced orator, artiste or instrumentalist dreads his introduction to the microphone. Unfortunately, the actual meeting proves to be worse than he had anticipated. Gone are his familiar stage, his audience, his limelight; he is alone – or practically—in a futuristically decorated studio, with a glistening microphone waiting with a relentless grin (or so it seems to the unhappy broadcaster) and a strange, overpowering “deadness.”
Reading the above all these years later after it was published, the type of studio they had in the 1930s would look quaint to 21st century eyes, not at all “futuristic”. Imagine what Mr. Fryer would think if he could see all the computers they use these days! You can see an idea of what he had to work with in his photograph:
Since I’m not in the least bit technical (although I’m fairly good at using my Chromebook and Linux netbook), I can’t properly judge how much the difference between levels of technical skills would be required in a 1930s radio studio and a 21st century one. I suspect though, that the level of expertise in the 1930s studio might be higher; in that a modern day computer might have a lot of the settings and controls pre set so that the broadcaster doesn’t have to set them manually as they would have had to have done back then.
I would love to visit a museum that has a 1930s radio broadcasting room, so I could see how it worked. There used to be one near Chester which unfortunately closed in 2000. I wish I’d known about that as it wasn’t that far for me to go on the train to visit it.Oh well; at least they have a websitewith some great photographs of what used to be there.
The science of sound means nothing to him, and “acoustics” is something which he probably associates with unfortunate lack of hearing. He is very, very ill at ease. A white light flashes at him; his heart commences to sink—the red light is before him; he must begin . . . and he is paralysed!
The safest policy the inexperienced broadcast artiste can adopt is to forget that the microphone is a medium through which he is reaching millions and to regard it as one intimate friend to whom he is speaking or performing. Personality, in an artiste, is, more often than not, the intimate touch. Take for example, Mr. Christopher Stone. The listener adores him because he feels that each little remark is sent personally to him. This “intimate touch ” is not an art—and can be acquired.
Christopher Stone was Britain’s first D.J, with an informal style of presenting that was unusual for the time, but the norm now.
He has the typical “Received Pronunciation” of those days, which is rarely heard today, but his style is conversational and warm. I can see what Mr. Fryer meant: Christopher Stone does sound like he’s having a chat with his audience. I can imagine someone at home alone would have felt like they had some company when he was on the wireless.
And now onto the use of the mike in singing, especially the crooning style:
The vocalist must not linger through verse and chorus ; the listener is impatient, and variety is the spice of his programme. The “straight ” singer, likewise, must avoid numbers of undue length.
And now a special word to the would-be crooner : Do not attempt to copy any well-known , crooner, no matter how popular. Study your own style, develop your own personality—and take your job seriously.
“I do,” protests the potential crooner indignantly. Perhaps. On the other hand, the crooner forgets that he needs a basic knowledge of singing, that his diction must be perfect. and his breath control above reproach. Crooning, like all radio work, is a real art.
Crooning, like all radio work is a real art.I’m pleased to see that statement, because Al Bowlly in his book Modern Style Singing (Crooning), published in 1934, wrote about how some people were rather derisive of the crooning style and the use of the microphone. You can read what he had to say about that, and his knowledge of the use of the microphone in these links:
After reading his book I think you’ll see that there is real artistry in how he used the microphone. We can see that in his performance of My Melancholy Baby. Here he is in colour!
Secrets Of The Mike can be downloaded here as a pdf file:
Soft Lights and Sweet Music. These words really evoke the 1930s don’t they? This is the name of a popular series of radio broadcasts presented by Austen Croom-Johnson, named after the song by the great Irving Berlin. Below is a lovely recording of the song sung by Sam Browne, with Ambrose and his orchestra:
Here is an interesting article about this radio series and the young man behind it, from Popular Music And Dancing Weekly, December 29th, 1934:
What a shame that no recordings of these broadcasts exist as I would like to hear them. So many of the greats of the dance band and radio era were in these broadcasts such as Eve Becke, Suzanne Botterell (named as Susan here), Carroll Gibbons, Len Fillis, and Elizabeth Welch.
From reading this article and doing some research on it, I gather that each artist was featured on it in a series of complete broadcasts of their own, rather than a broadcast with a number of artists on one broadcast each time.
Elizabeth Welch was an African American from New York, who after working in Paris, settled in London. She was an influential figure in the history of jazz music.
From The National Portrait Gallery:
“From her stage debut in 1922 to her final appearance in 1996, singer Elisabeth Welch (1904-2003) was an important figure in the world of popular music. Born in New York, at the age of nineteen she helped to launch the Charleston in the Broadway show Runnin’ Wild. Throughout the Jazz Age she worked on stage with some of the great names of the Harlem Renaissance, including Josephine Baker and Bill ‘Bojangles’ Robinson. On Broadway she popularised Cole Porter’s scandalous ‘Love for Sale’ (a prostitute’s lament), and in 1933 she introduced Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler’s torch song ‘Stormy Weather’ to British audiences. Also in 1933, with her appearance in Cole Porter’s Nymph Errant, Welch began her sixty-year career in English musical theatre.“
In 1936, a film was made also named Soft Lights and Sweet Music. It starred Bert Ambrose, the dance band leader with his band, the English comedian Harry Tate, the American singer and actress Evelyn Dall and also Elizabeth Welch. It was a genre very especial to the 1930s: a music showcase of the popular singers, dance bands and variety performers of the time.
Films like these gave radio listeners the opportunity to see the people they tuned into their radios to hear. Television was very much in its infancy, and only for the very few who could afford the expensive television sets and lived near enough the BBC broadcasting headquarters to be able to receive the signals.
How I’d love to see this film! It’s very hard to find these British films from the 1930s. None seem to be released on DVD that I’ve been able to find, so far. There are however, a few clips of the film on YouTube. Here is Elizabeth singing Yesterday’s Thrill:
What a dramatic and affecting performance! It’s easy to see why Elizabeth was so highly regarded.
Here are clips of Ambrose and his orchestra from the film:
Another clip of Ambrose and his band with Evelyn Dall:
What a quirky and fun performer she was! It looks like Ambrose was rather amused by her near the end, as he turned around and stood looking at her!
The pianist and singer Turner Layton:
He had a very fine bass voice!I had not heard of him before, so I looked him up on Wikipedia. He came from Washington, and was another African American who came over to London to work. He and his music partner Clarence “Tandy” Johnstone were said to have sold more than 10 million records! Layton appeared in the legendary Cafe De Paris for a number of years until 1946, when he retired. This clip alone shows what a good performer he was.The number of talented musicians and singers that were around in this era is so impressive!
I recently acquired this radio magazine, and boy what a treasure it is! It is a piece of social and cultural history. It lists radio broadcasts from around the world, has interesting articles, a letters page and some great advertisements. I love these old radios!
There’s also an article about radios and their features:
I especially like this article written by the British band leader Henry Hall:
I found it interesting to learn just how popular British Dance Bands were across Europe back in the 1930s. They really were very well known and (quite rightly) admired for their musicianship. Henry Hall clearly appreciated receiving letters from his European listeners.
Radio was the main way that bands became widely known, due to live broadcasts of their performances. This in turn led to the bands doing tours. When bands were getting established by playing in hotels and clubs this led to the very best being offered a weekly spot on the radio.
Television was in its infancy in the early 1930s so Radio (the wireless as it was known) was the home entertainment. Millions of people tuned in to listen to the dance bands. Radio was to people in the 1930s what television is to people today. However the fame of the dance bands and dance band singers was not of the level of what the pop bands and singers have today, which in some ways was a good thing because they were able to have more of a private life.
But how many people have heard of Henry Hall today? Not enough for him to be classed as “famous.” He is though well known and regarded amongst people who are listeners of 1930s dance band music.I hope that Henry Hall and his fellow band leaders of this era never become truly forgotten in the future because their music is excellent.
If Handel’s music from the 18th century can still be listened to and enjoyed why shouldn’t the music of Henry Hall and other dance bands from the 1930s also be enjoyed? The often stated view that they are “old fashioned” makes no sense to me when people are still listening to music written over 200 years ago! They were very talented, professional musicians, with class and style. They deserve to be recognised for this and to have their recordings archived and listened to for generations to come.
Here is an example of what you could have heard on the wireless back in 1936:
Very joyful and uplifting! I hope this number brings some cheer to your day or evening.
Pages of Radioland. 