Category Archives: Songs

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I’m Looking For…

'Ich suche Dich Titine (Je cherche après Titine)', by Léo Daniderff and German text by Friedrich Hollaender.
Ich suche Dich Titine’, music by Léo Daniderff and German text by Friedrich Hollaender (Victor Alberti Musikalienhandlung, Berlin, 1922).

This gorgeous sheet music cover was created by Katerina (Käte) Wilczynski. Born in Poznan (1894) she studied and worked in Leipzig and Berlin where she illustrated books. She travelled a lot in Europe, especially to Greece. In 1939 she definitely moved to London where she died (1978). She was known for her portraits and street scenes, later also for her landscape drawings.

A drawing of a street scene in Paris (1928) by Katerina Wilczynski.
Katerina Wilczynski: a street scene in Paris (1928).
Left: illustration for 'Kyrie Eleison' by Waldemar Bonsels (1922). Right: portrait of Joyce Cary by Katerina Wilczynski, pen and ink, 1954 (National Portrait Gallery, London, 4822).
Left: illustration for ‘Kyrie Eleison’ by Waldemar Bonsels (1922). Right: portrait of Joyce Cary by Katerina Wilczynski, pen and ink, 1954 (National Portrait Gallery, London, 4822).

Strangely, having discovered that she was ambidextrous she let each hand play its own part in the creation of the drawing. I love this greeting card that she made for a friend in 1974. Perhaps because travelling by memory is what we also do in this blog with many hands.

Wilczynski's good wishes for 1975, drawn when she was eighty.
Wilczynski’s good wishes for 1975, drawn when she was eighty.

The sheet music above is the German version of the original French song that was sung by so many poilus, as the infantrymen were called during the First World War. The tune of Je cherche après Titine’ had been written by Leo Daniderff (1878-1943), presumably in 1917 for his loved one, the physically disconcerting Gaby Montbreuse. Daniderff had ‘russianised’ his first name (he was born Ferdinand Niquet), which earned him the nickname faux Russe (‘false russian’). This (or his talent) also earned him success: he became the composer of hundreds of popular songs and helped the career of many celebrities.

We haven’t yet found a French copy of Je cherche après Titine’ with a worthy illustrated cover. Here and there you may find a petit format, a small and cheap publication of the song written by Marcel Bertal, Louis Maubon and Emile Ronn.

Petits formats (small sheet music) of 'Je cherche après Titine'.
Je cherche après Titine‘, two ‘petits formats’ or small sheet music found on Du temps des cerises aux feuilles mortes.

In 1922, the same year as the German publication, Carisch launched the Italian version of the song: Io cerco Titina. The flapper on the cover for this ‘ultimo successo internazionale‘ is by Roveroni.

'Io cerca Titina'
Io cerca Titina‘, with Italian lyrics by Guido di Napoli (Casa Editrice Carisch, Milano, 1922).

Not at a viral speed but still in a steady pace, the song conquered the world. In 1924 we find this beautiful American Titina sheet music cover.

Titina sheet music cover by Harms Inc. 1924.
Titina‘, published by Harms Incorporated (New York, unknown illustrator, 1924).

Jack Hylton‘s orchestra popularised Titina as a hyper danceable foxtrot. But we’ll listen instead to a Billy Murray 1925 recording of Titina, and sing along its refrain:

I’m looking for Titina – Titina, my Titina,
I’ve searched from Palistina, to London and Peru.
I’ll die without Titina, I can’t eat my farina,
I don’t want Rose or Lena, Titina I want you.

Warning: the following old label has nothing to do whatsoever with our story, except the brand name and its roaring looks. We couldn’t resist…

Tinned tomatoes.
Titina label for a brand of tinned tomatoes.

There is no better way to conclude this article than by viewing the ultimate Titine dance and singing act by Charlie Chaplin in Modern Times (1936).  How very ironic that for his first ‘talkie’ Chaplin uses nonsense words, or what do you make out of “La spinash o la bouchon Cigaretto Portabello Si rakish spaghaletto Ti la tu la ti la twah” ?

And while for many years the whole world was looking for Titine, at last someone found her:

‘Titine’ by Jacques Brel, 1964.

La Samaritaine

samaritaine
Devant la Samaritaine‘ by Gangloff, published by Delormel, Paris and illustrated by Faria.

The cartoon by Faria for the comic song Devant la Samaritaine shows a half-naked woman and a lecherous fisherman, the popular singer Paulus. The only Samaritaine in Paris we knew till now was the department store near the Pont Neuf (which closed definitely in 2005). This ignorance explains why we couldn’t make sense of Faria’s picture. So, it’s google time again.

samaritaine2
The deparment store La Samaritaine and Pont Neuf in Paris before 2005.

Les Bains de la Samaritaine depicted on the cover was a floating construction on the Seine containing public baths. The stylish and stunning vessel contained 100 bathtubs, placed in small cubicles distributed over two floors. One could go there for a simple bath, or for medicinal baths, steam baths, showers and hydrotherapy.

Bains-de-la-Samaritaine
Entrance to the Bains de la Samaritaine, ca 1900.
samaritaine4
Bains de la Samaritaine, ca 1865-1870.

The hydraulic pump and the immense filters used to purify the water of the Seine were installed in the roof space of the building. The chimneys of the heating boilers with their decoration of metal palms were famous throughout Paris.

pompe samaritaine
The Pont Neuf with the building containing ‘La Samaritaine’ pump. Oil painting by Nicolas-Jean-Baptiste Raguenet, 1777. Musée Carnavalet, Paris.

Les Bains de la Samaritaine, as well as the famous department store, took their name from a large hydraulic water pump. It was installed in 1608 to power the water of the Seine into the Louvre and the Tuileries. The pump was rebuilt in 1715. The facade of the building that housed the pump contained a sculpture representing Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well, hence the name.

samaritaine5
A view of the Bains de la Samaritaine on the Seine near the Pont Neuf by Charles Soulier, ca 1860.

It is not known when the baths were first installed next to the Pont Neuf. The first authorisation to build hot baths on a boat dates back to 1761. On a preserved plan for such a bathing establishment we see small cubicles. Some contain a bath, others also accommodate a bed or two baths. There is clearly a  physical separation for men and women, with different staircases.

baignoire plan
Plan of a boat with public baths in Rouen, 1762 . Archives départementales de la Seine-Maritime.

The Bains de la Samaritaine disappeared in 1919. They were sunk by a flood of the Seine.

samaritaine6
The flood of the Seine in January 1919: the Bains de la Samaritaine inundated. Bibliothèque Nationale de France

We wonder if the angler on the following picture is hoping, like Paulus, for a flash of female nudity.

Pecheursamaritaine
Angler fishing in the Seine next to Les Bains de la Samaritaine, ca 1900.

But of course to understand all this we could have read the text of the song. Life can be simple.

Devant les bains de la Samaritaine
Je pêchais sur les bords de Seine
Quand dans un cabinet voisin
Je vis une dame qu’allait prendre un bain
Sa fenêtre était grande ouverte
A cette vue qui m’était offerte
Je me dis …crédu Quel tableau
Ca vaut mieux que de regarder dans l’eau.

Fin de Cycle

fare you well
Fare you well Daisy Bell‘ by Harry Dacre, published by Francis, Day & Hunter, London in 1894 and illustrated by H. G. Banks.

The proud man on the bicycle of this cover is Harry Dacre writer of the timeless classic Daisy Bell. He was also the owner of the Frank Dean & C° publishing house. Born as Frank Dean (1857–1922) on the Isle of Man he started writing songs in 1882. After some minor successes he emigrated to Australia and later moved to America. He arrived there in 1892, with a song in his pocket that would become a mega hit. Daisy Bell (also known as ‘A bicycle built for two’) would conquer the world with an annoying earworm chorus:

Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do,
I’m half crazy all for the love of you.
It won’t be a stylish marriage,
I can’t afford a carriage,
But you’d look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle made for two.

daisybellaustralia copy
Left, the sheet music cover of ‘Daisy Bell’ by Harry Dacre, not in our collection. Right, English couple on a tandem in 1900.

Allegedly Harry Dacre had brought with him his bicycle, for which he had to pay import duty. A friend of his remarked: ‘You’re lucky that you didn’t bring a bicycle built for two, or you would have to pay double’. This witticism inspired Dacre to write a song about the pleasures of riding a tandem.

portrait of Frances Evelyn “Daisy” Greville, Countess of Warwick (1889)
Frances Evelyn “Daisy” Greville, Countess of Warwick, 1889, National Portrait Gallery London

However, the source of inspiration for Daisy Bell could also have been Frances Evelyn “Daisy” Greville, Countess of Warwick.  She was a celebrated society cyclist, feminist and socialist. But she is best remembered for her extramarital affairs, including her liaison with the Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII.

daisybell duits copy
Left ‘Daisy‘ by Harry Dacre, published by Bosworth & C°, Leipzig (not in our collection). Right ‘Isabella (Daisy Bell)‘ by Harry Dacre published by Carl John (Stockholm, s.d.).

After a lukewarm start Daisy Bell went on to become a worldwide success. It was translated in different languages, and strangely in Sweden it was renamed Isabella. The song spawned numerous sequels, parodies and imitations.

daisybell kaps
Daisy Bell‘ waltz arranged by Karl Kaps, published by Francis, Day & Hunter, London in 1893.

We gladly entertain you with the following contemporary version by the English rock band Blur. But know that the band members themselves consider it to be one of the worst moments in their career…

In 1894 Harry Dacre himself wrote the sequel Fare you well Daisy Bell, the cover shown at the beginning. Its success however was as disappointing as the relation between Daisy and her beau: she became bored of the tandem and he rode away on a bicycle built for one. The author signed this cover with a pun: ‘yours-fin-de-cycle-ly, Harry Dacre’.

IBM704
A state of the art computer in 1957, IBM model 704 at NASA.

Stanley Kubrick immortalised the song in his film 2001: A Space Odyssey. In the final act the computer HAL-9000 sings the Daisy Bell chorus. This was a tribute to HAL’s great ancestor, an IBM model 704, the first computer to ever sing. It happened in the Bell Labs in 1961 and they recreated the song Daisy Bell for obvious reasons. You can hear the recording of this earliest known computer-synthesized voice singing.

The science-fiction author Arthur C. Clarke witnessed this first ‘artificial singing’ demonstration. He was so impressed that he incorporated it in his 1968 novel 2001: A Space Odyssey. In the film, we witness near the end of the movie that HAL is deactivated. After the famous lines ‘I’m afraid Dave… Dave my mind is going, I can feel it…’ (2:43) he, she or it sings Daisy Bell increasingly slow and distorted, before finally shutting down (5:03).