Wednesday, November 17, 2021

Rudy Wiedoeft and the Popularity of the Saxophone

 

When one thinks of jazz, the instrument that readily comes to mind for most people is the saxophone.  The iconic silhouette of the soulful saxophonist is practically synonymous with jazz, and from Charlie Parker to faux-jazz artists like Kenny G, the saxophone has impacted popular music in a significant way.  The question here is how did the saxophone become the prominent instrument in jazz?  The answer is one individual – Rudy Wiedoeft.  As will be seen in studying his legacy, Wiedoeft single-handedly brought the popularity of the saxophone to American popular music, and therefore he is worth further examination including from an economic dimension. 

Rudy Wiedoeft (1893 – 1940)

As Ted Hegvik wrote in 1989, Wiedoeft is all but forgotten in the modern age as most who are “Baby Boomers” or younger know little about his legacy if anything at all, but he is an important figure in the history of modern jazz nonetheless[1].   The saxophone, which was invented and patented in 1846 by Belgian musical instrument designer Adolphe Sax (after whom it was named), was not widely known prior to at least 1920, but it did make occasional appearances on earlier recordings by Sigurd Rascher as well as early popular performers (and early dance band pioneers) such as the Six Brown Brothers, who made prolific recordings in the 1910s, and the first uses by minstrel troupes began in the 1890s with ensembles such as Gorten’s Golden Band Minstrels, but at that stage it was largely still a novelty[2].  Many early dance bands of the 1910s, however (James Reese Europe’s Society Orchestra and others) did not incorporate saxophones.  It truly was not until Rudy Wiedoeft popularized the instrument that it took off, and the height of that new craze was during the “Jazz Age” of the early 1920s.  

The question however was how this impacted the economic situation of the time?  Along with the phonograph, which was invented by Thomas Edison in 1878, the accessibility of entertainment began to be a luxury that many average homes could afford, and the availability of records – first in cylinder form and later in disc form – created a whole new entertainment industry.  Later still, motion pictures and radio would capitalize on this as well.  However, in Wiedoeft’s case, these were means to an end, as his real asset was marketing the saxophone.  The saxophone at the time came in several pitches, from sopranino to subcontrabass, but a special type of saxophone was the choice of Wiedoeft in his recordings, that being the C-melody saxophone, which was in pitch somewhere between an alto and a tenor with a distinct sound of its own.  However, Wiedoeft’s popularizing of the saxophone extended to all members of the instrument family, and young musicians in the 1920s began switching from clarinets, which they had normally played to this point, to the new saxophones.  And, with the popularity of recordings readily available, a musical craze was created that facilitated a brisk sales trade of the instrument that would burgeon further in time.  While the Six Brown Brothers and other such groups had been using the saxophone as more of a novelty instrument to this point, in 1917 Wiedoeft began to record, and many of these early recordings were his own compositions which led to a capitalization on the new jazz market that had been instigated by a New Orleans-based group, the Original Dixieland Jazz Band, who had recorded what many believed to be the first official jazz recording, “Livery Stable Blues,” in the same year[3].  This instant success brought to Wiedoeft financial success as well, which he invested wisely.

While many of Wiedoeft’s ventures – investments in building and mining – did not pan out quite like he wanted them to, he did have success at marketing, including the endorsement of a saxophone named after him that was manufactured by the Holton Company[4].  This special Wiedoeft model was marketed to a wider audience, and the successful marketing campaign of the Holton Company led to Wiedoeft achieving wider fame, at least until the 1930s when the Depression hit and he began to decline in health and prestige due to a flood of newer players of the instrument.  Wiedoeft would eventually fall ill to complications brought on by his heavy drinking habit, and he would die of cirrhosis in 1940.

An ad from the 1920s promoting the Wiedoeft model of saxophone manufactured by the Holton Company

Beginning in the 1920s however, a new generation of saxophonists would themselves become legends, many tracing their influences to Wiedoeft.  Among them was a young Yale alumnus named Hubert Pryor Vallee, who in the late 1920s achieved fame as a bandleader and singer better known as Rudy Vallee – Vallee took Wiedoeft’s first name as his stage name due to his early idolization of Wiedoeft.  Others who benefitted from Wiedoeft’s legacy included Frankie Trumbauer, who was one of the premiere jazz saxophonists of the 1920s, as well as Jimmy Dorsey, who would later become a successful big bandleader in his own right along with his trombonist younger brother Tommy.  The popularity of the saxophone continued well into the rock and roll era, and its place in jazz was immortalized later by such artists as Charlie Parker and Stan Getz, among many others.  A combination of masterful talent and effective corporate marketing made Rudy Wiedoeft the catalyst for the later success of many other saxophonists in successive generations.

Wiedoeft’s recordings should be briefly discussed.  He had a body of recorded music that was of two types.  The first were his jazz recordings, which he made with his own group called the Californians.  It was with this group that his most famous recordings, “Saxophobia” and “Sheikh of Araby,” were made.  He also had a body of more serious work he recorded with a concert trio, many of which were his own compositions – one of particular note was made in 1921 entitled “Valse Erica.”  In recent years, some of this material has been reissued on LP and CD, but the vast majority of original Wiedoeft recordings are of his concert group, as no current reissued collection exists of his jazz band.  His jazz band was later taken over by his brother Herb, and was renamed the Cinderella Roof Orchestra – this group does have an extensive number of reissued works, many featuring trombonist Jess Stafford. 

Much more could be said of Wiedoeft’s personal legacy, but he has been immortalized as the man who brought the saxophone into popularity, and a formula made up of successful marketing campaigns on the part of musical instrument manufacturers as well as the proliferation of recorded sound via the invention of the phonograph is what makes his legacy significant.

Early sheet music publication of Wiedoeft’s saxophone compositions



[1] Ted Hegvik, “How Rudy Wiedoeft’s Saxophobia Launched the Saxual Revolution,” Essays of an Information Scientist 12, no. 10 (1989): 68. 

[2] Bruce Vermazen, That Moaning Saxophone: The Six Brown Brothers and the Dawning of a Musical Craze.  New York: Oxford University Press, 2004. 7.

[3] Vermazen, 120.

[4] Jaap Kastelein, ed. Rudy Wiedoeft: Spirit of the Saxophone. Heerenveen, Netherlands: de Haske, 2012. 4. 

Saturday, November 6, 2021

The Eccentric Substitute Teacher of My Middle School Years

 

Thomas Engleman (1945-2021)

I haven't done a tribute page to an admired individual in my life for a while, but today warrants one.  In doing my weekly obituary searches, I came across one for a man who I really thought highly of years ago. This guy was at one time a substitute teacher during the time I was in 7th and 8th grades at Romney Junior High School in Romney, WV, and he was truly one in a million.  So I wanted to just remember him here as my own tribute to his wonderful legacy.

Tom Engleman was not your typical substitute teacher - when I was in middle school back in the mid-1980s, he was a towering figure of over 6 feet, and he wore a characteristic long ponytail that made him stick out in a crowd.  When I first met him, I was a bit intimidated by him too, but I soon found out there was no warrant for such concern - Mr. Engleman was a true educator who had a heart of gold, and he took his teaching vocation seriously.  Middle school was not the best time in my life, to be honest - I was a poor kid with a single mother, and often I was the target of ridicule and harassment in school by both the "cool kids" and the "freaks" because I dressed differently (I have never worn jeans or tennis shoes since I was a young kid, and always dressed conservatively), listened to different music (I had started collecting vintage big band records just a couple of years earlier, and had little to do with the music that was popular at the time), and I had a high-pitched squeaky voice then.  I was looked at as a "geek" and an outcast, despite the fact I actually did do rather well in my classes.  As Mr. Engleman also stood out, he took an interest in me, and one day when he was subbing for our regular English teacher, he noticed me drawing, and came over and started a conversation about it - he later paid me fifty cents for two of those pictures, and I found out he had sent one to a radio host I listened to then, Henry Boggan.  Mr. Engleman was interested in my fascination with big band records, and he actually later pulled a few strings with the music teacher, Mr. Foster, for me to take saxophone lessons.  That was how invested he was in the lives of his students, and I am sure others would also have fond memories of his teaching them too.  That explains the type of man Mr. Engleman was, and now let me talk a little about some facts of his life I pulled from his obituary in the local  paper.

Tom Engleman was originally born in Miami, FL, in 1945, and I remember him telling me that he was part Seminole Indian and part German - the Seminole part explained the pony tail.  Upon his graduation from high school, he attended the Virginia Military Academy, and I was amused at how he handled the extracurricular activities requirement - he became a male cheerleader! For those of us who knew him, that comes really as no surprise, as Mr. Engleman was his own man and was in many aspects the quintessential eccentric, which could explain why another eccentric like myself clicked with him.  He then worked with a non-profit service organization called VISTA (Volunteers in Service for America) which is how he eventually ended up in West Virginia, where he would meet his wife and settle.  I always was curious about that honestly - how did a part-Seminole guy from Florida end up being a substitute teacher in a small West Virginia town?  Thankfully, his well-written obituary (which is actually a very touching tribute to his legacy) filled in those gaps for me.  He ended up making teaching his primary career then, and I am not sure how many years he taught in the Hampshire County School system, but he must have been there for some time before I first met him in my English class at RJHS in 1983.  In time, he later transitioned from substitute teacher to being a full-time science instructor at the West Virginia School for the Deaf and Blind, which is also in Romney.  Another personal note about his teaching tenure when I was in 8th grade had to do with a stupid controversy that erupted among some jerks in the county then who had issues with his appearance - some of the jerks, ironically, were parents of the kids in school that gave me and others a rough time.  They didn't like the fact that Mr. Engleman wore a pony tail, and they made (almost anyway) a Federal case out of it.  Fortunately, common sense prevailed, and Mr. Engleman remained a teacher for some time afterward.  I remember giving him a lot of support, and Mom, knowing how highly I felt about him, actually was stirred from her own apathy and lack of involvement to rally behind him as well.  To this day, I am betting that those jerks who gave him a rough time are probably eating some proverbial crow, and if not, they should be.  Anyway, this gives you an idea of who Mr. Engleman was. 

I was able to have the privilege of talking with Mr. Engleman several years back, around 1997 or so.  He was still the same good-hearted soul he always was, and it was a nice conversation.  A couple of weeks later, I received a large envelope in the mail from him, and in it was that picture of a jazz band he bought from me years ago with a note telling me that it was the best fifty cents he ever invested.  That was the type of man he was though - a goofy pencil drawing of one-dimensional orchestra figures with weird-shaped instruments was seen as something significant by him, as he never took the small things for granted.  I still have both that picture and his note, and it is something I will always fondly treasure. 

It was a huge shock to hear that Mr. Engleman had passed away, as it would have been nice to chat with him again.  Ironically too it was only a couple of days before his 76th birthday.  However, I know that he was a man of quiet yet strong faith (he actually told me he was a Christian when I talked to him back in 1997, and he talked a lot about how blessed he was from God) and that his eternal reward will be nice due to the fact that as a mentor and teacher, he served those he was charged with, possessed with a humility and compassion that only someone who sees what they are doing as a vocation would.  He will be greatly missed not only by myself, but I am sure by many who had the privilege of his teaching.  May God be with his widow Jean and his daughter Amelia, and rest eternal, Mr. Engleman.  

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

A Tale of Two Coal Communities

 

This is a comparison study of two coal/railroad towns on the upper Potomac River, one in Maryland and one in West Virginia.  While for the most part they saw their “glory days” in the early 1900s, they came into existence in part due to a change in economic development that happened in the region in the post-Civil War period.   Both towns were pivotal to three major business sectors – coal, lumber, and the railroads.  And, both towns depended on the success of those businesses for their growth and survival.  The first town is a small community in the far west of Maryland called Kempton, while the second town is about 15 miles to the east, Bayard, WV.  Since I grew up in this region, the presence of these towns was an integral part of my own life, as I actually had relatives who lived in both during the towns’ heyday.  That being said, I will begin the story.

Beginning in the 1880s, the logging industry in particular became something that characterized this region.  Many towns sprang up where the logging camps were in close proximity, as many workers had to have places to shop and conduct personal business.  Although originally the logs that were harvested were trekked to the nearest mills, the burgeoning railroad industry came into play as the logs were later transported to the mills by train, as well as the trains bringing food to the logging camps[1].   Although railroads served an important purpose during the Civil War, it wasn’t until the 1880s when the railroads began to be constructed to serve the mining communities in the region.  Many lumber companies, however, had their own railroad lines, and these were often more limited in location although they would eventually be incorporated into the Baltimore and Ohio (B & O) system as time progressed[2].  Both Kempton and Bayard were the beneficiaries of this development.

Although Kempton was not officially incorporated until 1913 as a community by the Davis Coal and Coke Company[3], it was the site of lumber and coal camps for many years prior, as a mine operated there from at least the year 1886[4].  It was part of a mine complex that connected 6 other mining communities in the region, and much of the administrative aspects of the mining operations were maintained from an office in the nearby community of Thomas, WV.  At its peak, Kempton had a population of 650, but as the economic climate began to change after World War II, many of the original residents had moved elsewhere and the town essentially declined after 1950, when the mine was closed.  Kempton is also significant as it is only two miles from the headwaters of the Potomac River, which is delineated by the nearby Fairfax Stone Monument.  On a personal note, my late step-grandfather, Alonzo Lipscomb, was born in and grew up in this community.  Today, a couple of houses remain, and it is considered an “Upper Potomac Ghost Town” now by local historians. 



The main street in Kempton, MD, during its heyday in 1939

 

The nearby community of Bayard, in Grant County, WV, has a similar history.   Bayard is located approximately 15 miles northeast of Kempton.  It was incorporated in 1893 and took its name from a Delaware state Senator of the time, Thomas F. Bayard.  Unlike Kempton, which was almost solely based on the mining industry, Bayard also had a tannery, and as a stop on the West Virginia Central and Pittsburgh Railroad, it also benefitted from the coal industry as well as local logging.  Today, Bayard still boasts a population of approximately 250 people, and although much business in recent years has been diverted to the nearby community of Gormania, WV, Bayard still has a bank and stores[5].

 



Downtown Bayard, WV, today, with SR 93 serving as the main street.

There are a number of factors to contrast the current status of both Bayard and Kempton which takes into consideration why one is still a somewhat vibrant community while the other is more or less a settlement of a couple of houses.  As mentioned, in Bayard’s case, the diversification of business aided in the town’s survival when many of the coal mines shut down in the mid-20th century.  Utilizing local tourism, a tannery, banking, and some other businesses, Bayard has kept a stable population while at the same time maintaining the economic base to sustain the population.  Another factor to be considered is location.  While both Bayard and Kempton are located on the Potomac River, Bayard has one advantage Kempton does not have – access to major highways.  The main entry into Kempton is a small county road that intersects US 219 to the west approximately 5 miles from the town itself, and few people other than the local population know of it.  And, despite the fact that nearby communities such as Thomas and Davis do sport local attractions (notably Blackwater Falls and the Canaan Valley Ski Resort), Kempton is still too far from the proverbial “beaten path” to be impacted positively.  In contrast, Bayard is on a major highway – SR 93 – which connects two major routes: US 50 to the north, and US 219 to the southwest.  Bayard is only 3 miles from US 50, and approximately 12 miles from US 219, and thus it also serves as a convenient connector town between the main thoroughfare that connects Washington, DC, to Ohio, and the tourist center of nearby Tucker County, WV to the south.  Added to this is Bayard’s closer proximity to the recently-constructed Corridor H, which is a freeway system built by the state of West Virginia connecting the major interstate routes, 81 and 79, and also has boosted the economy for the region.  The negative aspect of both communities though is an aging population, as many younger people from the region are seeking employment and education elsewhere (WVU in Morgantown, and the state college in nearby Frostburg, MD, as well as job markets in Cumberland, MD, and in the approximate locations of West Virginia’s Eastern Panhandle and the Baltimore and DC Metro areas).  This could eventually have a catastrophic impact on Bayard’s fairly consistent population in particular, and in time for Kempton it could mean a total exodus of whatever population is left.  Both communities though have the option of tapping into the revenue of adjacent communities, such as Gormania, Thomas, Davis, and further away, Oakland, MD.  With the changing economic landscape of the area though, it remains to be seen as to how these and other communities survive.

Thank you for allowing me to introduce you to some fascinating communities in the region I am originally from, and I look forward to sharing again in the future. 



[1] Roy B. Clarkson, “Timbering and Logging,” The West Virginia Encyclopedia, Ed. Ken Sullivan (Charleston, WV:  The West Virginia Humanities Council, 2006): 706-707.

[2] Thomas W. Dixon Jr., “Railroads,” The West Virginia Encyclopedia, 597.

[3] Garrett County Historical Society, Ghost Towns of the Upper Potomac (Parsons, WV: McClain Printing, 1998): 3.

[4] Tamara Davis and Constance Lyons, “The Characterization of the Kempton Mine Complex, Maryland and West Virginia, Using GIS Technology,” https://fs.ogm.utah.gov/pub/MINES/AMR_Related/NAAMLP/GIS1/DvsLyons.pdf (Accessed November 2, 2021).