I wondered if anyone has any particular knowledge of music hall and/or vaudeville? I have a student about to do a project on the subject, who's looking for the best references. I did a little reading on it a couple of years ago in the context of some Finnissy research, but have only skimmed the surface of the subject, very much in vogue amongst musicologists and cultural historians alike. I'd also be interested to know anyone's wider thoughts on these whole genres (can one call them that?), how they relate to particular periods in history (and particular social classes), why they went out of vogue, how the music stands up, or anything else.

“Why should the masses give a damn for art, poetry and style? They don’t need any such thing. What they want is vaudeville.”

Gustave Flaubert

She never 'ad 'er ticket punched before.

I have met at least two members here at our around the Marie Lloyd bar in Hackeny.

That's wonderful!

Ian, I believe biroc's colleague Derek B. Scott is your man. 'The Singing Bourgeoise', and another book about 19thC urban music which I can't remember the title of. This is his specialty.

It does indeed seem to be a topic which merits further study. Are any of the Old Guard like Billy Dainty, or Max Wall still alive? what about Roy Hudd, who seemed to go on forever?
For material, I always used to listen to the Radio Two programmes with Cosmotheka when they were on.

Roy Hudd is still certainly alive (just in his early 70s); he wrote several books on Music Hall. The only book I've read in any detail is Richard Anthony Baker, British Music Hall: An Illustrated History (2005), which I remember being rather good. Others I've heard recommended include Peter Bailey (ed), Music Hall: The Business of Pleasure (1986), and J.S. Bratton, (ed), Music Hall: Performance & Style (1986), but I haven't read either yet - anyone know them? I distrust Scott's work on the whole on the basis of reading other things he's written, but will check out The Singing Bourgeoisie. There are many other books and articles on the subject, some very specialised; it's been quite a growth industry in scholarship of the last few decades. In terms of things written from a more sociological/historical point of view, my nearest and dearest (who knows a lot more about working-class cultural history than me) mentioned an essay by Eric Hobsbawm called 'Mass-producing traditions: 1870-1914', in Hobsbawm and T. Ranger (eds), The Invention of Tradition (1983), and Henry Pelling, Popular Politics and Society in Late Victorian Britain (1983). Anyone know any of these?

Don - I'd be very surprised if sexual politics of the type you describe haven't been studied in this context; I'll see if I can find out what's been written.

When I worked at the Coli, I sometimes did the backstage tours if the guy who regularly did them wasn't available.  In fact these tours are largely front-of-house (except for the stage and the pit) since all the making wardrobes, props and scenery are off-site anyhow.  The Coli was built by Oswald Stoll as the jewel in the crown of his nationwide empire of music-halls, and it represented his attempt to "make music-hall respectable".  His strategy for doing so hinged on getting the King to come to performances.  To tempt HRH onto the premises, the building included two unique elements provided solely for His Majesty.  The first was an electric wagon (on rails) which was supposed to meet the Royal party at the door, and drive them through the foyer in elegant seclusion, and then "dock" at the rear of the stalls (where the Sound and Lighting box is now) - the Royal party would not have to leave it, and it became their "box" for viewing the performance.  However, this contraption was more a gimmick than a serious device, and of course, it never worked (although the rails for it are still under the carpets in the foyer - or were, at least, before the last rebuild).  The present Royal Box was originally intended for wealthy patrons rather than royalty, and was only converted into a Royal Box after the electric wagon thing failed to operate.  (There are photos of the wagon in the building's original prospectus, and in the ENO archives).  The second "extra service" for HRH was rather more delicate.  His Majesty didn't like the show very much, but he liked to meet chorus-girls.  This, of course, had to be screened from public view.  A tiny triangular room for these liaisons was built into the structure of the pillars in the lobby.  and since its role was not only for the King's use but also to prop-up the massive weight of the Dress Circle above, it couldn't be removed later, and is still there.  If you are ever in the area of the Stalls beyond the foyer, it's quite easy to discern which of the pillars is massively larger than the others - there is a small door (marked "private") by which you can gain admittance.  It used to be used for small Management meetings during my days there.  There is also a small Royal Privy inside.

Two of the three ghosts that allegedly haunt the Coliseum are connected with its time as a Music Hall.  The first is the Grey Lady, about whom I never managed to cull much information, and she's rarely been spotted.  The second, however, is the Ghost of the WW1 Soldier. Recruitment concerts for troops were a popular feature of the shows in the second decade of the C20th, with the "King's shilling" being offered on the spot for those signed-up.  The chorus-girls were encouraged to get likely-looking lads to sign-up, and went into the audiences to flirt with hopeful-looking cases.  The ghost in question is alleged to return from the trenches, badly disfigured, "looking for his Daisy who said she'd be waiting for her brave lad to come back". Unlike the Grey Lady, I've met someone who worked at the Coli who'd had an encounter with the Soldier - a member of the support staff (ie not a performer) who is absolutely rational and ordinarily cynical about things like ghosts...   

Little-known fact - the first performance of any of the music from PARSIFAL happened on a Variety Bill at the London Coliseum.  45 minutes of music was culled from the opera, and presented in a series of tableaux vivants with dancers only (no music was sung - apparently the Good Friday music was the centre of what was given).  The same evening's entertainment including a re-enactment of that year's Derby,  with live horses on stage galloping against the direction of the Coli's famous revolving stage    

 I would certainly advise any student, Ian, to read John Osborne's "The Entertainer" (1957) as this reflects the changing shape of Music Hall from the Edwardian era, in the character of the refined Billy Rice, to the coarser, post WW2 changes, experienced by his son, Archie.   The social criticism of a changing England, at the same time, is of course, a different issue.   From the advent of TV which really didn't take-off until the Coronation in 1953 (b/w) and the arrival of ITV in 1955.  Music Hall really hit the skids, at this time, and the variety circuit was filled with 'nudie' shows which finally brought its death knell by the 1960s.  Titles like, 'She Couldn't Wear Less'.

        I'm inclined to separate Vaudeville as an American venture.  However, we saw the great exponents at The Palladium, starting with Danny Kaye, Jack Benny - he'd literally stand, arms akimbo and stare at the audience; gaining wave after wave of laughter by his sheer presence, sense of outrage and impeccable timing.    Judy Garland - at her best, probably the greatest; Martha Raye, Josephine Baker, George Burns, and, in the mid 70s, the two-an -evening shows, closed with Ginger Rogers, then Ethel Merman.   Max Wall did the first half and, despite being brilliant, he 'got the 'bird' from the audience and told us he was aware that we'd only come to see Merman! He went on to play a stunning Archie Rice at Greenwich, before capping his career with 'Waiting for Godot' at The Roundhouse.

As a child, in the late 1930s and in later years, I saw and remember a very stylish Florrie Forde - 'down at the old bull and bush' - Ella Shields, Nosmo King (derived from No Smoking), Dave Willis, Harry Gordon, Chic Murray - all in Scotland.       In the 1950s, in London, Max Wall, Max Miller, Florence Desmond, Mrs Shufflewick; all at the the old Met, Edgware Road.

All of these artists knew how to communicate; how to control a raucous audence, without amplification, apart from a few mikes at the floats, fully aware of the brickbats from the back row of the gallery.   Even in the 1960s, a mumbler in the West End would instantly be told to 'speak up'.  The common denominator is that they all spent years and decades, working on the circuits - from a No 1 tour (quality) down to the scrapings of No 3 - and they learnt how to 'work the house' at every level.

Perhaps The Stage newpaper personified the era with their availabilty ads, on the front page.  Published every Thursday, price 6d.      My favourite was    "Kardomah fills the stage with flags".