Volga(z)! Heave ho!

Sheet music (partition musicale) of 'Katanga', song by Hippolyte Ackermans & Charles Geuskens, lyrics by M. Roels, 1928, illustrated by Alfred Mariano Bernier.
Katanga‘ by Hippolyte Ackermans & Charles Geuskens, lyrics by M. Roels, published by Mado Editeur (Bruxelles, 1928), illustrated by Alfred Mariano Bernier.

Voici le style moderne: the Katanga Fox Trot! The forthright and powerful cover made by Alfred Bernier has the typical Art Deco marks. A purified theme, rendered with honest lines and shapes. The natural forms are geometrically stylised, they become streamlined. Repeated elements create a rhythmic tableau of colours, shapes and letters for the song about a man longing both for the faraway land and the woman who lives there.

Lyrics-Katanga

We know next to nothing about Bernier. Having studied at the Académie de Bruxelles, he was active as an illustrator for Belgian music publishers during the end of the Twenties. He was born near Buenos Aires in 1888. We have two other covers in our collection, one of which is the black and white ‘Volga!’. This is thousand miles away from Katanga, but also a delicious Art Deco cover. The stark composition expresses the strength of the workmen and the violent wind. Again, repeated elements create a dynamic scene, frozen in time.

Cover for the sheet music 'Volga!' by Max Alexis and Charles Tutelier, published by Vergucht and illustrated by Alfred Mariano Bernier
Volga!‘ by Max Alexis and Charles Tutelier, published by Vergucht (Bruxelles, 1929) and illustrated by Alfred Mariano Bernier.

Lyrics-Volga

The song by Charles Tutelier was probably inspired by the 1926 epic silent movie of Cecil B. DeMille, The Volga Boatman.

Volga boatman Poster Gablin

This big-scaled romantic melodrama, set in the 1917 Russian Revolution, was a shift from the usual anti-Bolshevik films, in that it also focussed on the oppression and the cruelty of the Czar’s regime and did not portray all the revolutionaries as just dumb and violent agitators. On the contrary, our hero is even susceptible to romantic entanglement. See for yourself in this short montage we made from the 2-hour classic of the silent screen.

The film gets an unintentional Dadaistic twist when the social order is being ‘revolutionised’ by the Reds.

The film was an international success and generated sheet music covers in many countries.

Two sheet music covers. Left: 'Le Batelier de la Volga' by Emile Liétard (Châtelineau, s.d.), unknown illustrator. Right: 'Song of the Volga Boatman' published by Keith, Prowse & Co (London, s.d.), unknown illustrator.
Left: ‘Le Batelier de la Volga’ by Emile Liétard (Châtelineau, s.d.). Right: ‘Song of the Volga Boatman‘ published by Keith, Prowse & Co (London, s.d.). Both unknown illustrator.
Two-Sheet-Music covers: Left: 'Wolga Lied' published by B. J. Smit & Co (Amsterdam, s.d.) illustration signed F.K. Right: 'La Canzone dei Batellieri del Volga', published by A. & G. Carisch & C. (Milano, 1929), illustrated by Bonfanti.
Left: ‘Wolga Lied‘ published by B. J. Smit & Co (Amsterdam, s.d.) illustration signed F.K. Right: ‘La Canzone dei Batellieri del Volga‘, published by A. & G. Carisch & C. (Milano, 1929), illustrated by Bonfanti.
'Burlaki (Lied der Barkenschlepper an der Wolga' published by J. H. Zimmerman
Burlaki (Lied der Barkenschlepper an der Wolga)‘ published by J. H. Zimmerman (Leipzig, s.d.)

One can wonder why in 1917 the title character had to work as a boatman on the Volga. For at least a few decades there hadn’t been any boatmen (Burlaks or barge haulers) working on the Volga. Cecil B. DeMille called this tampering with ‘details’ from the past, telescoping history. His reason was probably very Hollywoodesque: if the American audience knew one Russian song, then it undoubtedly was The Song of the Volga Boatman. Let’s take a minute to hear and see a poignant and primal rendition of the song by the Bulgarian bass Boris Christoff.

Ey, ukhnem!’ is the Russian title of the well-known traditional folk song. In 1866 it was published for the first time, with only one (disconcerting Boy Scoutish) verse:

The firm stance of Christoff calls to my mind the posture of the gentleman singer drawn by Jules David  for the song ‘Ténors et Basses’.

Detail from the sheet music cover for 'Ténors et Basses' (Air Bouffe) , by Paul Henrion, lyrics by Emile Barateau, published by Colombier (Paris, s.d.)
Detail from the sheet music cover for ‘Ténors et Basses‘ (Air Bouffe) by Paul Henrion, lyrics by Emile Barateau, published by Colombier (Paris, s.d.)

In 1873 Ilya Repin finished his iconic (almost 3m wide!) painting of burlaks along the longest river of Europe, in Tsarist Russia. It both condemns inhumane and harsh working conditions, while also saluting the dignity and long-suffering of the exhausted working class.

Painting by Ilia Efimovich Repin (1844-1930): Volga Boatmen (1870-1873)
Ilya Repin: ‘Volga Boatmen’ (1870-1873), State Russian Museum, St Petersburg (131.5 cm × 281 cm)

It was not only in Russia that ships were pulled by manpower along a tow path. Wherever it was impractical to sail, human force was used to drag the vessels. In the second half of the 19th century it apparently was a favourite theme for painters.

Painting by Frederick Arthur Bridgman in 1875: Towing on the Nile.
Frederick Arthur Bridgman: ‘Towing on the Nile’, 1875.
Painting by Telemaco Signorini: L'alzaia, Cascine di Firenze, 1864
Telemaco Signorini: L’alzaia, Cascine di Firenze, 1864

We found unsettling photographs of this human labour.

Burlakwomen photographed on the Volga, 1900s (Wikipedia)
Burlak women photographed on the Volga, 1900s (source: Wikipedia)
Photograph: On the towpath along the river Po, around 1920-1930. (source: G. Giarelli, La cultura del fiume: i barcari del Po, 1986/1987).
On the towpath along the river Po, around 1920-1930. (source: G. Giarelli, La cultura del fiume: i barcari del Po, 1986/1987).
Een man en een vrouw trekken samen een trekschuit door een binnenkanaal. Plaats onbekend, 27 mei 1931.
Man and woman towing a cargo-boat through a ship-canal. The Netherlands, 1931 (source: Nationaal Archief).

Later vehicles and beasts of burden replaced the human pullers, before the work became obsolete when ships were fitted with engines. Towing paths now offer pleasant walks and tourist rides.

Photograph Canal du Midi: chemin de halage (2014)
Canal du Midi: chemin de halage or tow path (2014)

One more thing. Volga also was the name of a car manufactured by GAZ in the USSR from 1956 on. The Soviet nomenklatura chose the Volga as their favourite car to commute between the Kremlin and their dacha. For many Russian generations the brand became the symbol of style and success. The first model was the GAZ-M-21. But then, that’s a completely different hobby…

(credit: Youtube’s Ramzis123)

Yes, We have no Bananas

no bananas
‘Yes! We have no Bananas‘ by Frank Silver and Irving Cohn, published by Salabert, Paris in 1923 and illustrated by Roger de Valerio.

A newspaper article on the threat of a banana shortage brings to mind the song Yes! We have no Bananas. The origin of the song is not clear. Allegedly it was inspired by a shortage brought on by the Panama disease, a soil-based fungus which attacks the roots of the plant. As the banana is a monoculture crop, this means that if something goes wrong, the whole crop can be lost. The earlier and more tastier banana variety Gros Michel (or Big Mike) was thus completely wiped out in the 1960s. Today the Gros Michel is replaced by the Cavendish, but it is still a monoculture and it is no longer resistant to a more virulent strain of the Panama disease. About 10 years ago this new strain started to destroy plantations in Asia and Australia, threatening the Cavendish banana with the same fate as its predecessor.
Roger de Valerio, an illustrator with a vivid imagination, apparently didn’t read the original lyrics before illustrating the cover of the French version of Yes! We have no Bananas. He simply associated bananas with the stereotype of the black mammy and black people. To my dismay, this old stupid cliché is sometimes voiced on our soccer fields. For the cover of the original American sheet music Sol Wohlman straightforwardly illustrated the story: a Greek American greengrocer who tells his customers, in broken English, that he has no bananas to sell.

There’s a fruitshop down our street,
It’s run by a Greek,
And he sells good things to eat,
But you should hear him speak,
When you ask him anything,
Never answers “No”,
He just yesses you to death,
And as he takes your dough he tells you:

Yes! We have no bananas,
We have no bananas today…

no bananas original
Yes! We have no bananas‘ by Frank Silver & Irving Cohn, published by Skidmore Music Co., Inc, New York in 1923 and illustrated by Sol Wohlman (not in our collection, Johns Hopkins University, Levy Sheet Music Collection)

Wohlman himself falls into the trap of stereotyping when, for another sheet music cover, he caricatures a typical Italian person. Notice the similar exotic mustachios, earrings and mischievous eyes.

A typical Italian man drawn by Sol Wohlman (partition musicale - illustrated sheet music), 1923
Caricature of an Italian man drawn by Sol Wohlman for the cover of ‘When it’s Night-time in Italy It’s Wednesday Over Here‘ published by The Lawrence Wright Music C°, Leicester, 1923.

Back to our song. After Eddie Cantor used the novelty song in one of his Broadway revues in 1922, it topped the charts in America and became a smashing  success all over the world.

bananas europa
Left: ‘Si, non ho piu banane!‘ by Frank Silver and Irving Kohn, published by Carlo Lombardo, Milano (s.d.) and illustrated by Roveroni. Right: ‘Bananen’, by Frank Silver and Irving Kohn, and translated by Fritz Löhner (Beda), published by Wiener Bohème – Verlag, Vienna in 1923.

The song inspired a follow-up song “I’ve Got the Yes! We Have No Bananas Blues”.

bananas blues copy
Left: ‘I’ve Got the Yes! We Have No Bananas Blues‘ By Lew Brown, James Hanley & Robert King, published by Shapiro, Bernstein & C°, New York in 1923 and illustrated by Politzer. Right: The same song published by Salabert, Paris in 1923 and illustrated by Roger de Valerio.

Again, Roger de Valerio gets the wrong end of the stick about the song’s content. It is obviously a mockery about a man who cannot stand the earworm, nicely illustrated by Politzer. Although de Valerio is to me the better illustrator, he once more gets his inspiration from a black people stereotype, palm tree and all.

In France the song spawned spoof versions, emphasising that the chauvinistic French didn’t suffer a banana shortage: Chez nous y a des bananes (We have bananas!). For illustrator Clérice, selling bananas is not a Greek merchant business, but a job for shrewd African vendors.

les bananes
Left: ‘La Marche des Bananes‘ by Vincent Scotto, published by Salabert, Paris in 1923 and illustrated by Jacques Boullaire. Right: ‘Chez nous y a des bananes‘ by René de Buxeuil, published by La Parisienne, Paris in 1923 and illustrated by Clérice frères.

The great Maurice Chevalier performed another parody: We have pineapples! (Nous avons des ananas!).

les ananas
Les Ananas‘ by Fred Pearly & Max Eddy, published by Salabert, Paris in 1923 and probably illustrated by Roger de Valerio.

This in turn was an inspiration for the silly song ‘Nana n’a pas d’ananas’ (Nana has no pineapples).

nana
Nana n’a pas d’ananas‘ by Dior & Delly, published by Dior, Paris s.d. and illustrated by Jean Chevalier.

Time to listen to the song. Mind you, it will stay with you for the whole day and slowly drive you mad as a box of frogs. I prefer the version by the Pied Pipers from the 1948 musical film ‘Luxury Liner’.

And because I adore Billy Wilder, I include a German version of the song from the Cold War comedy ‘One, Two Three’. The film features James Cagney as Coca-Cola’s head of West Berlin operations trying to get Coca-Cola into the Russian market.

Agamemnon: a Local Family Affair

Cover of the sheet music 'Laiss' tomber', one step by L. Aga
Cover of the sheet music ‘Laiss’ tomber‘, one step by L. Aga and H. Valle. Published by G. Agamemnon (Mantes, 1923). Illustrated by R. Marabout.

Agamemnon was the king of Mycenae. When Helen, the wife of his brother Menelaus, ran off with Paris, Agamemnon started the Trojan War. Thus he had a major impact on the turn of events in Greek mythology. The homonymous hero of our story, the publisher Gaston Agamemnon, does not share this renown.
We knew nothing about this man but for two other sheet music in our collection (see our previous posts on ‘Eventide‘ and ‘Le Rajah‘). All three pieces were published, composed and illustrated by the same three persons. All in the year 1923. Intriguing… We investigated this mere detail of French music publishing. Please follow our footsteps in history.

'Eventide' and 'Le Rajah' sheet music covers (partition de musique)
Eventide‘ and ‘Le Rajah‘ sheet music by L. Aga and published by G. Agamemnon in 1923. Both also illustrated by R. Marabout.

Gaston Agamemnon held shop in Mantes-la-Jolie, a middle-sized city along the Seine, 60 kilometres west from Paris. He started in 1903 as a manufacturer of piano’s and other musical instruments. We believe to have found an image of Mr. Agamemnon on an early postcard of the Rue de la Mercerie. On the doorstep of his rather large boutique he looks curiously at the photographer.

Postcard Rue de la Mercerie, Mantes-la-Jolie (ca. 1910).
Rue de la Mercerie, Mantes-la-Jolie (ca. 1910). On the left is probably Mr. Agamemnon on the doorstep of his musical shop. (source: “Mantes histoire“)

At his front window Mr. Agamemnon advertises ‘Cours et Leçons‘, ‘Violon & Solfège‘ and ‘Vente-Location‘. Apart from teaching and selling instruments, he also sells sheet music: we see many chansons prominently on display in his shop window.

A small article in Le Petit Parisien of 1909 relates how Gaston narrowly escaped from a fire accident: apparently a window had acted as a magnifying glass for the sun rays that set alight wood shavings in his workshop, leaving him half asphyxiated.

Information on Agamemnon in various archives.
Left: a small article in Le Petit Parisien of 1909. On the right Agamemnon’s advertisement in the Annuaire des Artistes of 1905.

More significant is the advertisement in the Annuaire des Artistes of 1905 in which Agamemnon promotes his services as Editeur de Musique (publisher) and Chef d’Orchestre (director). He also specialises in teaching modern techniques for the violin and the piano. We also learn from dusty archives that Agamemnon was married to Claire Fenayrol. Aha, we found his Clytemnestra!

From the 1893 registry of Mantes-la-Jolie: the marriage between Gaston Achilles Agamemnon and Claire Amélie Fenayrol. (source: online archives of the Département Yvelines)

The rue de la Mercerie is no more. It vanished together with large parts of the city centre of Mantes-la-Jolie in 1944, during Allied air raids. The enormous damage was documented by the Vichy regime in newsreels. This video is an excerpt from Ina.fr video archives.

Almost all of Mantes-la-Jolie’s city centre was rebuilt after the war, as illustrated by the two ‘before-and-after’ postcard views.

Mantes-vue-avant-apres
One of the city architects who helped rebuild the town centre was Raymond Marabout (born 1886). We found early pictures of him as aerostatier during the First World War. He was wounded when he had to jump from his airship.

Airship, WWI. Pilot is Raymond Marabout
Raymond Marabout in action with his airship during WWI. (View more pages from this photo album at Europeana 1914-1918.)

Raymond Marabout was not only an airship pilot and architect, but also an illustrator: he signed the three ‘Agamemnon’ covers above. He was also a rather good painter. We found this lovely post-impressionistic landscape on an auction site.

Painting by R. Marabout
Landscape, oil painting (60X81cm) by Raymond Marabout. (source: http://www.anticstore.com/tableau-ancien-paysage-24269P)
Signature of painter-illustrator Raymond Marabout
Raymond Marabout’s signature on a sheet music cover (left) and on the oil canvas (right).

Le Rajah‘ sheet music is jokingly dedicated à mon ami Sidi-Ben-Marabout suggesting that Gaston Agamemnon and Raymond Marabout were friends. Agamemnon probably also befriended the painter Maximilien Luce, to whom he sold his house of Rolleboise.

'Rolleboise, la baignade', oil on canvas by Maximilien Luce
‘Rolleboise, la baignade’, oil on canvas (135x148cm) by Maximilien Luce.

Gaston Agamemnon had at least one son: Lucien. Having learned the violin, Lucien became director of the Conservatoire in Mantes-la-Jolie. The BnF lists him as the author of a handbook on music theory and also as a composer until the 1960’s. Using the pseudonym L. Aga he created in 1923 the three ‘lighter’ compositions (one step and fox-trot shimmies) that his father published. These three items in our collection are thus traces of a brief family cooperation. Strangely, we also found reference to a painter Lucien Agamemnon around 1950. Is it the same person? Probably, as he also signed his work L. Aga.

Huile sur carton du peintre Lucien Agamemnon.
Oil on cardboard (40x50cm) offered on ebay for 30€. Signed below-left L. Aga (Lucien Agamemnon?).

We discovered a portrait of Lucien Agamemnon, not drawn by our illustrator Raymond Marabout, but painted by Frédéric Luce (son of Maximilien).

Lucien-Aga-violoniste_OgerBlanchet
‘Le violoniste Lucien Aga’ by Frédéric Luce. Oil on canvas (33 x 54 cm), probably from 1959. (source: auction house Oger Blanchet)

On Lucien Agamemnon we also discovered an odd newspaper fait divers, recounting that Lucien was a victim of road rage.

Lucien Agamemnon being victim of road rage (Le Matin, 18-09-1937).
Our composer L. Aga being assaulted by a motorcyclist, which resulted in a work incapacity of 25 days (Le Matin, 18-09-1937).

Digging deeper into the family history we discover Jean Agamemnon (1921-2003), grandson of Gaston and son of Lucien. Poet, artist and friend of the Luce family he became conservator of the Maximilien Luce museum in Mantes-la-Jolie (later musée de l’Hôtel-Dieu) until 1996. It fits to conclude this article on the Agamemnon-Marabout-Luce families with a sheet music cover illustrated by the anarchistic painter Maximilien Luce…

Sheet music cover by Maximiline Luce (partition de musique).
Les Pieds devant‘, by Marcel Legay and Maurice Boukay. Published by Ondet (Paris, s.d.) and illustrated by Maximilien Luce.

… and comfortingly sung by George Brassens. For all who seek solace: come on, sing along!

Tu t’en iras les pieds devant,
Ainsi que tout ceux de ta race,
Grand homme qu’un souffle terrasse.
Comme le pauvre fou qui passe,
Et sous la lune va rêvant,
De beauté, de gloire éternelle,
Du ciel cherché dans les prunelles,
Au rythme pur des villanelles,
Tu t’en iras les pieds devant.

Tu t’en iras les pieds devant,
Duchesse aux titres authentiques,
Catin qui cherches les pratiques,
Orpheline au navrant cantique.
Vous aurez même appris du vent,
Sous la neige, en la terre grise,
Même blason, même chemise,
Console toi fille soumise,
Tu t’en iras les pieds devant.

Tu t’en iras les pieds devant,
Oh toi qui mens quand tu te signes,
Maîtresse qui liras ces lignes,
En buvant le vin de mes vignes,
À la santé d’un autre amant,
Brune ou blonde, être dont la grâce,
Sourit comme un masque grimace,
Voici la camarde qui passe.
Tu t’en iras les pieds devant.

Tu t’en iras les pieds devant,
Grave docteur qui me dissèques,
Prêtre qui chantes mes obsèques.
Bourgeois, prince des hypothèques,
Riche ou pauvre, ignorant, savant,
Camarade au grand phalanstère,
Vers la justice égalitaire,
Nous aurons tous six pieds de terre.
Tu t’en iras les pieds devant.


 

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