A glimpse of a colorful past
Anyone under the age of seventy could be forgiven for forgetting that the world didn’t suddenly spring to colorful life in the past half-century, so predominant was the grey palette of black and white photography and cinematography in the first half of the 21 century.
But of course, the world never existed in black and white — it was just depicted that way.
One aspect of Martin Scorsese’s The Aviator that I especially admired was the way the look of the picture slowly morphed, depending on the period being depicted. In scenes that took place in the late twenties and early thirties, the heavily green and orange look of the two-strip Technicolor of the era was very effectively replicated. I’ll admit to a fondness for that look, and when I do imagine life in the 1930s in color, that’s the palette my mind’s eye adopts.
Ms. Cladrite and I spent our honeymoon in the great city of London a little more than a year back. It was her second trip there, and my first, and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We often reminisce fondly about those eight delightful days. So it was with some excitement that I learned of this color footage of London in the 1920s, and it’s with great pleasure that I share it with you, the Cladrite Radio listener.
The Personality Girl resurfaces
Annette Hanshaw, one of the most revered performers in the Cladrite Radio pantheon, was a very busy gal for a few years in the late 1920s and early ’30s. She recorded dozens of memorably jazzy poppy sides (or were they poppy jazz?) between 1926 and 1934, under a variety of names and for several record labels (as was so often the norm in those days), and made innumerable radio appearances between 1932 and 1935. In fact, the readers of Radioland magazine voted Hanshaw, known in those days as “The Personality Girl,” their favorite singer of 1935.
Tommy Dorsey himself once called Hanshaw “a musician’s singer.”
So it was a huge loss to the world of pop and jazz music when Hanshaw retired from show business after marrying Pathé Records executive Herman “Wally” Rose. She made her last record in 1934 and appeared on the radio for the final time in 1937.
In recent years, much of Hanshaw’s recorded output has made its way to CD, boosting her current popularity and keeping her in the public eye. Her songs are even featured prominently in director Nina Paley’s 2009 animated film Sita Sings the Blue.
Though a rumored pair of mysterious demo records, cut many years after her retirement when Hanshaw was said to be considering a comeback, have never been released to the public, some “homemade” recordings Hanshaw made recently surfaced on youtube.com.
The person who posted the recordings, whose youtube handle is merrihew, offers the following background:
These two selections are the best sounding of a batch of homemade recordings that Annette Hanshaw did. Her husband copied them onto a tape for a friend of mine. I don’t know when they were made but on one of the records she refers to “Steve Cochran’s looks”. He was a big movie star for a couple of years around 1950. So that’s a hint. Unfortunately the sound on the others is pretty bad.
For Hanshaw fans, these recordings, even lacking as they admittedly are in fidelity and clarity, are an unexpected and delightful gift.
We’ve posted what merrihew says are the best of the recordings as this week’s Cladrite Clip (look to the sidebar on the left), but you can hear other, more muffled and scratchy snippets of songs from those home recording sessions at the links below:
If you’ve not been exposed to Hanshaw, we encourage you to give a listen to some of her earlier work online, at Last.fm, RedHotJazz.com, or one of the many other sites where streaming music can be heard. You’ll also hear Hanshaw often on Cladrite Radio.
We think it best to hear her at her best first, and then give these later, lo-fi recordings a listen to get an idea what might have been if, in fact, Hanshaw, who died of cancer in 1985, had undertaken a comeback.
'Tis Autumn
Old Father Time checked, so there'd be no doubt.
Called on the North wind to come on out,
Then cupped his hands so proudly to shout,
"La-di-dah di-dah-di-dum, 'tis autumn!"
Trees say they're tired, they've born too much fruit.
Charmed on the wayside, there's no dispute.
Now shedding leaves, they don't give a hoot.
La-di-dah di-dah-di-dum, 'tis autumn!
Then the birds got together
To chirp about the weather.
La-dah-di la-dah-di la-dah-dum
After makin' their decision,
In birdie-like precision,
Turned about, and
Made a beeline to the south.
My holding you close really is no crime.
Ask the birds and the trees and old Father Time.
It's just to help the mercury climb.
La-di-dah di-dah-di-dum, 'tis autumn.
---Henry Nemo, words and music




