Category Archives: Finds!

1962: Connecting Amiri Baraka, Angus MacLise and La Monte Young in Recent Additions

Cover of audio reel from the Amiri Baraka Papers (Box 91)

 

A recent acquisition by Karla Nielsen, Curator of Literature, of material relating to La Monte Young and Angus MacLise from Kenneth Mallory Booksellers coincides with a unique, historical audio recording discovered recently in the Amiri Baraka Papers (pictured above).  The set of 1964 concert posters for La Monte Young’s performing ensemble, then consisting of John Cale, Tony Conrad, and Marian Zazeela, represent the beginnings of The Tortoise His Dreams and Journeys, a well-known yet sparsely publicly-documented work by Young and the Theater of Eternal Music that came to be a musical turning point for Young and his colleagues.

Even more obscure than The Tortoise are the precursors to that work, yet a moldy audio reel box discovered in the papers of Amiri Baraka with the inscription “La Monte Young Concert August 26, 1962” came to light during digital preservation of the collection’s audio-visual materials.   With the help of Jung Hee Choi, friend and collaborator of La Monte Young, we were able to identify more exactly what the contents reflect.

The tortoise recalling the drone of the holy numbers as they were revealed in the dreams of the whirlwind & the obsidian gong & illuminated by the sawmill, the green saw-tooth ocelot & the high-tension line stepdown transformer : [advertisement]. Call number: ML45 .P63 1964g. ML45 .P63 1964g

The concert took place August 26, 1962  at 10-4 Group Gallery, 73 Fourth Avenue, New York, NY and was titled “26 VIII 62 Evening NYC.”  The ensemble consisted of La Monte Young, Soprano Saxophone; Angus MaClise, Hand Drums; Marian Zazeela, Voice Drone; Billy Linich (later Billy Name), Voice Drone.  The pieces they presented in this concert were [Untitled].  La Monte wrote of the program, “These pieces were evolved during the daily rehearsals of my Theatre of Eternal Music over the period from Spring 1962 until the inception of The Tortoise in the Winter of 1964. The work of this period involved static permutation techniques of my own design applied to constellations of pitches over various stationary and movable drone combinations.”

While the box containing the tape indicates an hour of music, in fact there is not much more than ten minutes worth of the concert reflected on the tape.  The majority of the tape consists of an extended interview with saxophonist Archie Shepp.  We could presume that at that time, when La Monte was primarily playing saxophone in the group rather than singing alongside Marian, Amiri Baraka saw a common interest in the two musicians with a more direct association than would be obvious today.  Beyond just conceptually overlapping for Baraka, it also appears that the Shepp interview is recorded over the missing minutes of the La Monte Young concert on the tape.

The second portion of the recent acquisition is an addition to our existing collection of Angus MacLise Papers. MacLise, who plays hand drums on the August 26, 1962 concert recording aforementioned, in 1962 also published an alternative calendar entitled Year.  Previously not well-represented in our MacLise collection, our 2017 Addition now includes several typed and handwritten manuscripts and revisions for Year, as well as correspondence, around the publication.  The MacLise Year calendar, since its publication, has maintained interest in the avant-garde music and poetry communities, and there is even a Twitter feed (@MacLiseYEAR) which bills itself as a day-by-day recitation of the work.

Tom McCutchon, Public Services Specialist

Note in MacLise’s hand, affixed to “YEAR” manuscript in the 2017 Additions to Angus MacLise Papers.

 

 

 

 

Book History Colloquium: “Traces in the Stacks: 19th-Century Book Use and the Future of Library Collections”

Tues., October 28th @ 6:00 PM

Andrew Stauffer, Associate Professor of English and Director of NINES, University of Virginia

The Book Traces Project engages the question of the future of the print record in the wake of wide-scale digitization. College and university libraries increasingly reconfigure access to nineteenth-century texts through public-domain versions via repositories such as Google Books on the assumption that copies of any given nineteenth-century edition are identical. The Book Traces Project argues otherwise, focusing attention on the customizations made by original owners in personal copies of books to be found in the open stacks of university libraries, and showing that these books constitute a massive, distributed archive of the history of reading. Marginalia, inscriptions, photos, original manuscripts, letters, drawings, and many other unique pieces of historical data can be found in individual copies, many of them associated with the history of the institution that collected the books.

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On October 8th, the Columbia University Libraries sponsored a Book Traces-related “treasure hunt” in the Butler Stacks. This talk will review the findings from that day, discussing compelling examples that were discovered by Columbia students and faculty.

Andrew Stauffer is an Associate Professor of English at the University of Virginia, and Director of NINES (Networked Infrastructure for Nineteenth-century Electronic Scholarship). He specializes in 19th-century British literature and the Digital Humanities. Stauffer launched the Book Traces project in 2014, following two years of sending students into the general stacks of the University of Virginia libraries to discover unique copies of nineteenth-century editions of Romantic and Victorian poetry. He has published articles on various Romantic and Victorian writers, including Byron, Dickens, and Dante Gabriel Rossetti. His book Anger, Revolution, and Romanticism was published by Cambridge University Press in 2005, and he is currently working on a book entitled, “Postcard from the Volcano: The Troubled Archive of Nineteenth-Century Literature.”

The Book History Colloquium at Columbia University, open to any discipline, aims to provide a broad outlet for the scholarly discussion of book history, print culture, the book arts, and bibliographical research, and (ideally) the promotion of research and publication in these fields. Our presenters include Columbia faculty members and advanced graduate students, and scholars of national prominence from a range of institutions.

Questions? Email Karla Nielsen.

All sessions take place 6pm in 523 Butler Library, Columbia Morningside Campus, unless otherwise noted.

The Depth of New Yorker Films

Written by Sarah Cassone, Processing Intern Dan Talbot Papers

MS Student, Palmer School of Library and Information Science, Long Island University

 

One thing that is striking upon processing the Dan Talbot Papers is the types of materials his company kept and the attention to detail each film was given. When I think about the functions of film distribution companies my immediate thoughts are acquiring, distributing, and publicizing. Talbot’s New Yorker Films seemed to go above and beyond what was required for such a small independent film company.  With a staff of just nine individuals (according to a quick internet search) the amount of material within the Dan Talbot Papers surrounding New Yorker Films is astounding. The collection spans over 500 boxes and includes a variety of materials from printed and audiovisual material to operations files.

 

The most surprising files I’ve found have been the reviews of each film Talbot’s company distributed. Not only does the collection contain both original newspaper clippings as well as copies but these reviews are sometimes broken down by region (for example East Coast and West Coast reviews) and sometimes even more specifically by state. I’ve never considered how much importance a film distribution company would place on film reviews. It seems a little odd to me to collect nearly everything written about the film. As a matter of practice, you would think a film company would care more about how much money the film is making rather than whether or not it is being favorably received. Perhaps it was Talbot’s own history as a former film critic (he wrote for The New York Times in the 1960 as well as The Progressive) as well as his nature as a cinephile that made him want to read and save pages upon pages of reviews.

 

I was also surprised at the detailed marketing attention some of the films in his distribution company received. While it is entirely common for film companies to put together press kits of film synopses and photographs in order to send out to the media, it is quite another to be engaging in the creation of original artwork for the films. The film Peppermint Soda, a 1977 coming of age French film, directed by Diane Kurys and distributed by New Yorker Films, features some incredibly stunning hand drawn art, from full posters and transparencies to individual prints.

The above poster and transparency for the film were created by Floc’h, a French artist who previously collaborated with director Jacques Rivette. It is likely he’d already provided his services prior to Talbot’s acquisition of the title, as Gaumont films originally had the rights to the film. Regardless, the detail in marketing and publicity for Peppermint Soda is so specific to the film’s content and genre and was clearly given a lot of time and focus after Talbot’s acquisition of the title.

 

Many files within the Dan Talbot Papers contain ads for films. These would appear in newspapers and magazines and are usually presented with quotes. They are normally stills from the film. The ads for Peppermint Soda, however, contain original 8 1/2 by 11 hand drawn black and white illustrations, based upon scenes in the film.

Some of this artwork was then set within print newspaper ads.

From my experience processing thus far, it appears that Talbot kept all the print ads to most of his films, from each publication they appeared in. The Dan Talbot Papers are not only a treasure trove of material from the independent and foreign film scene for cinephiles, researchers, and scholars alike but the collection also provides insight into the inner workings of an independent distribution company and just how far that role extends.

The Death of the Guest Book

Written by Sarah Cassone, Processing Intern Dan Talbot Papers

MS student, Palmer School of Library and Information Science, Long Island University

 

I’m currently working on processing the Dan Talbot Papers at the Rare Book & Manuscript Library at Columbia University. The Dan Talbot Papers were acquired by RBML in April 2009. Dan Talbot was the founder of New Yorker Films and a key figure in Art House and Independent cinema.  As described in the initial Columbia University press release, “The collection is composed of correspondence files that span more than 30 years, more than two decades of producer reports, contract files, files related to New Yorker Films, financial records, guest books dating back to 1960 and production related ephemera.”

 

It’s the guest books section of the collection that I’ve chosen to focus on first. These guest books are from Talbot’s New Yorker Theater which was operational from 1960 to 1973. The New Yorker Theater was an art house cinema that screened classic and foreign films, as well as Independent and avant-garde films of the day. The theater was the first of its kind to hit New York City and provided an outlet for many up and coming filmmakers such as Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese as well as notable film critics such as Susan Sontag and Andrew Sarris. Talbot established the use of guest books in his cinema so that patrons could state what they’d be interested in seeing.

 

The guest books yielded a variety of responses — from a few overzealous viewers who decided to draw guitars as their way of saying they’d like to see the Nicholas Ray film Johnny Guitar, to the cinephiles who take up an entire page with a few films titles because they were just that passionate.

Some patrons didn’t leave their names; others did. A few notable individuals who attended the theater and suggested what they’d like to see were none other than Gene Wilder and Martin Scorsese.  

There is also an entry written by Gloria Swanson, and if it really was the classic actress then narcissism was rearing its head as her chosen film was — wait for it — Sunset Boulevard.  

While it’s likely this amusing entry, complete with an address, was Swanson, there were quite a few patrons who did enjoy pretending to be people they were not. A few imposters spotted amongst the guest books included Groucho Marx, Judy Garland and Orson Welles.

 

The idea of guest books at a theater seems completely foreign to me today. We go to the movies and see what is offered because the majority of the movie-going public attends mainstream movie houses. Talbot utilized the guest book as a way of sussing out what his audience was really interested in and attempting to obtain those films because his goal was to bring Art House cinema to the foreground.  However, it was not always easy. Talbot’s own difficulty at obtaining foreign titles to screen at his theater was the catalyst that lead him to found New Yorker Films in the first place, in 1965.  

 

The New Yorker Theater is no longer around and what we have left is several dozen guest books encapsulating a period of time that had New Yorkers excited and hungry for art and culture. Art House theaters do still exist, especially in the city. A notable one is the Film Forum, which showcases a variety of classic and foreign cinema and very often has retrospectives on certain genres or directors. Others include the Museum of Moving Image, the IFC Center, Landmark’s Sunshine Theaters and the Angelika Film Center.

 

Each of these theaters screens a variety of classic and foreign film selections in addition to current independent cinema. Talbot and his wife now run Lincoln Plaza Cinemas. It’s a small theater and very close to the Lincoln Center Loews, yet offers a variety of films that are usually not shown there. When a film says it opens in limited release in New York and L.A., you can bet that Lincoln Plaza Cinemas is one of the theaters in New York to screen it.

 

Having been at Lincoln Plaza Cinemas myself I did not see any guest books in the lobby. However, it would be wonderful to see the return of this outreach tool in one of these establishments to give cinephiles a voice for what they’d like to see. Dan Talbot had the right idea in the 1960’s with his New Yorker Theater and it was that cinema is a collaborative art between filmmakers, film distributors, and its patrons.

Amos Vogel Papers and Tributes

by Jennifer Lee

Columbia’s Rare Book and Manuscript Library has been the home to Amos Vogel’s papers since 2008.  After’s Amos’s death last year, his family found more papers in the Vogel apartment near Washington Square.  These have now come to Columbia, and will be added to the 149 boxes of material already open to researchers.  A box list of the additional material is available.

Amos Vogel

Ongoing now, Anthology Film Archives is presenting “A Tribute to Amos Vogel and ‘Film as a Subversive Art’”, with an extensive selection of films, running through March 14, that Vogel discussed in his hugely influential, landmark text in the history of film literature.  For details of the series, please see the Anthology Film Archives web site.

Also in March, the Museum of the Moving Image in Queens will present its own Amos Vogel tribute.  Please see the Museum of the Moving Image website for forthcoming details.

 


“Processing the Andrew Sarris Papers or ‘Is Harry Too Dirty?'”

Megan Darlington, RBML Intern (summer, 2012)

As an intern at RBML this past summer, I had the pleasure of processing the papers of prominent film critic and Columbia professor, the late Andrew Sarris (1928-2012).  The papers reveal a rare glimpse into Sarris’s life and work, and document major trends in theory and criticism during a period in which film gained exceptional traction as a true artistic medium.  These developments are especially apparent in Sarris’s correspondence, which include letters between other critics, scholars, fans, and a considerable handful of notable actors, actresses, and directors.  Among the most fascinating pieces I found in processing this collection is a 1977 letter written by Clint Eastwood.

 

Printed on the letterhead of Eastwood’s own production company, The Malpaso Company, the actor-director-producer thanked Sarris for his article, “Is Harry Too Dirty?” Appearing January 24, 1977 in the Village Voice, the reputably liberal Sarris revisited the 1971 film and employs a decidedly less scathing tone in comparison with his contemporaries.  Departing from the diatribes of adversary Pauline Kael, who admonished the film as a fascist attack on liberal values, Sarris understood Eastwood’s character to be more complex and symbolic.

Although Sarris was not necessarily an admirer of the film, Eastwood thanks him nonetheless for “understanding” him from a liberal perspective.  Perhaps Eastwood’s political leanings were less conspicuous in 1977, because as he claims in this letter he does not consider himself to be “politically aligned”.  It is clear today, however, that this is a friendly discourse between two filmic figures on seemingly opposite ends of the political spectrum.