Preliminary Programme

The end of the 19th century marked the emergence of the first entertainment industry in the whole of the industrialised world. It was then that the first music-hall stars appeared, with their often-astronomical salaries and sometimes-international fame. But this apparent opulence hid a much grimmer reality for the majority of ordinary musicians. Their working hours were increasing while their salaries were stagnating, their social rights remained non-existent and the hygiene and security standards within theatres and music-halls were appalling. Except for the favoured musicians working in legitimate theatres, their contracts were precarious and they recurrently fell out of work. If they decided to complain on their own, the director would threaten to dismiss them; a crowd of less demanding musicians in great need of work were queuing outside his office's doors.

It was in those circumstances and in order to efficiently defend their rights that French and British musicians formed their first unions. On the one hand, these organisations were typical of traditional labour unions of the time, fighting for better working conditions, salaries, etc. On the other hand, they were asking fundamental questions about the future of art and artists in a growing entertainment industry. Could art be a commodity or a form of entertainment? Could an artist be a worker? Could musicians remain artists if they demanded salary recognition? When many musicians were forced to seek another source of revenue outside of their artistic activity in order to get by, unions were also forced to question the limits of the musical profession. Did one become a professional musician because of one's academic education or because one received payment for one's musical labour? In this case, how should amateur or popular musicians be considered?

These questions divided the musical profession and the public in the same way as the current debates on the free downloading of music from the internet, or the status of “intermittent du spectacle” in France. Through the organisation of unions, professional musicians tried to redefine their status - a legitimate status in balance between the worker and the artist. Despite militant exchanges between French and British unions, the answers put forward underlined cultural and ideological problems and contradictions that were specific to each country. (Show less)

Music-making (including singing), like other performance activities, has been described within various contexts. Among them are making music as a form of art, making music as a part of tradition, or making music as a leisure activity of self-refinement. I want to study music-making in the contexts of work and livelihood, examining the different meanings music-making can take on within that framework. In that perspective, music-making both has similarities as well as differences to other activities. My field of study is Austria between 1918 and 1938, a period in which new (and sometimes disputed) concepts of work were implemented in various areas. Exploring various sources from the period under study, it becomes clear that firstly, there are indeed many indications that seeing music-making as work can help better understand some of its meanings for performers and other actors alike; and secondly, that there is not one consistent perspective on work being used, but a range of them with sometimes rather large differences between them. Playing as a soloist in a concert hall, singing in a church choir in the countryside, or grinding an organ in the streets of a big city are only some of the various practices of music-making that existed in this period. It must, however, be taken into account that those practices don’t have specific meanings on their own, but are defined only in relation to other practices. In this paper, I will describe some practices of music-making, and how they are connected to different perspectives on work, using sources produced by different actors such as biographical material, administrative records, or newspaper articles. (Show less)

Henri Herz was at the same time a piano virtuoso, a composer, a piano maker and a piano teacher at the Conservatoire. Thus he is a most interesting socio-historical case. He is a typical self-made man of the July Monarchy. Italie is well-known that, under King Louis-Philippe, business allowed the bourgeoisie to become as powerful as the old aristocracy, but Herz shows how it was also possible for an artist to become a businessman, thanks to the increasing music market, which allowed a musician to become economically independant.
Therefore, Herz understood perfectly that he had to diversify his activities. After having been the first Paris piano virtuoso, he was challenged by Chopin and Liszt, who attracted his piano pupils. That is why, during the 1830s, he decided to develop his piano factory. He bought an aristocratic house in the business neighbourhood (Chaussée d’Antin), with large grounds on which he built his factory, as well as a concert hall.
After his liaison with a woman who was to become a famous courtisane under Napoleon III and the 1846 economic crisis, he was ruined and decided to build his fortune again, by touring in America, where he stayed not less than 5 years.
During this American journey, Herz and his secretary Ullman established a new kind of partnership between artistry and profit-making, dividing their work into two different but complementary goals. Not only did the musician no longer run his own tour, which was a major change, but the business agent also defined his role in economic terms.
Herz was the first pianist to make such a big tour in America, playing, teaching and selling pianos, both on the East and West coasts, in Cuba and even Mexico, composing the national anthem of one of the presidents of the latter country. He even decided to reach San Francisco in 1850 during the Gold Rush and played for the miners who paid him directly with gold.
He wrote a humorous little book, My travels in America, a recollection of his memories.
Thanks to this journey, he was able to reinvest money in his piano factory and earn the highest distinction in the Paris International Exhibition (Show less)

Around 1900 the sound of Berlin’s streets and backyards was filled with the music of street musicians. They formed an important part of the soundscape of everyday-life in public spaces. One of the protagonists was a harpist nicknamed “Harfenjule” who became a symbol for the street musician – as opposed to the player of the mechanical organ who did not need musical training. The historical “Harfenjule” was Luise (also Louise) Nordmann (also: Northmann), née Schulz (also: Schulze, Scholz) (6 September 1829, Potsdam – 7 or 12 January 1911, Berlin). She was a nearly blind street singer and harpist who is still known in oral tradition.
There are historical documents of the Harfenjule: contemporary literary or journalistic portrayals, photographs, sketches by the chronist of popular culture and everyday life, Heinrich Zille, and transcriptions of the songs Luise Nordmann sang accompanying herself on the hook-harp. Furthermore, there is a variety of mentions of the harp being an instrument that was employed in street music. One source states that harps were hired for a fee to street musicians, another one describes the “Hofkonzerte”, i.e. backyard concerts, that were given by the street musicians and the small wrapped coins which were thrown from the windows for them to collect.
Reading these historical sources critically a part of the everyday soundscape of Berlin around 1900 can be reconstructed – or re-imagined. It was certainly influenced by street musicians like the Harfenjule. (Show less)