On April 26, 1922, in New York City, prior to the banquet of the American Guild Convention, the most celebrated mandolin, banjo and guitar players in the United States gathered for a panoramic photo on the rooftop of the Hotel Astor. The photo was printed in four parts in the May, 1922, issue of Cadenza Magazine, Vol. 29.5, p. 1, 16, 33.
In the Guild concert, the brilliant Samuel Siegal dazzled the audience with his “Concert Waltz.” “Never before have I heard the mandolin played with such a mellow and velvety quality of tone.” (Music critic Emile Grimshaw, The Guitar and Mandolin, Philllip J. Bone, p. 332) Siegal was also known for his dazzling speed and his use of four note chord melodies.
Carlo D. Fillipis, the Italian maestro, was on hand to perform, as were the Bickfords and Miss Walla Zeller. The Atlanta Mandolin Orchestra, who hosted the Convention in 1920, was represented by William B. Griffith (who retired from a his position as secretary of the Guild and was presented with honors by Siegal) and his sister L’Ella Ruby Griffith Bedard (barely visible in the photograph). Mrs. and Mrs. J. C. Daniels travelled from Transvaal, South Africa to attend.
Last month’s issue of the Crescendo magazine announced C. F. Martin was to appear at the Guild exhibit “with a big new surprise on hand.” Although he did not make it to the rooftop for the photograph, he was at the exhibit hall showcasing his new steel-string Martin 2-17 with its all-mahogany body. Perhaps it was more of a small surprise, and may have been underwhelming amongst the sea of banjos that crowded the exhibit. H. L. Hunt and Lester Wallington of Ditson were on hand as well as banjoists and merchandisers William L. Lange and William C. Stahl. Publishers Herbert Forrest Odell of the Crescendo Magazine and Walter Jacobs of Cadenza would not have missed it. In the photo, Fred Bacon is standing very close to David L.Day (a key employee for A. C. Fairbanks banjos, then Fairbanks by Vega). Within one month, the Crescendo announced that Day had left Vega to join Bacon. Soon the peg head of Bacon’s banjos sported the “B&D” logo. Later that night Frank C. Bradbury’s Banjo Quintet stole the show with the Vega banjos Day had helped design. Fred Van Epps was also there, and the banjo finale filled the stage with great players. Many other fretted instrument greats were present but do not appear in the photograph, such as mandolinist Percy Lichtenfels, and banjoist A. D. Grover, who took the opportunity to show off his new nickel-plated “Grover Extension” banjo tailpiece, which we now know as the famous “Presto” tailpiece, a favorite of Bluegrass players a century later.
Giuseppe Pettine, Italian mandolinist par excellence and mentor to William Place, Jr., was advertised to be at the convention, but he did not appear. Sadly his young bride, Amelia Leonora Capone, had died unexpectedly on April 23, 1922, at the age of 29.
In addition to Lloyd Loar, the Gibson delegation that attended the convention were:
Lewis A Williams, 43, General Manager. Born in Cooper, Michigan, October 22, 1878. Williams had moved as a child with parents to Nunda, in Livingston County, New York, and by the age of 21 was employed as a music teacher. Williams moved to Kalamazoo, Michigan, in 1901. There, he joined a group of partners to form Gibson Mandolin and Guitar Company, Ltd, on October 11, 1902. He worked at Gibson as a clerk until 1913 when he became sales manager, a position he held until 1917 when he became General Manager. While continuing at Gibson, he opened a radio shop in Kalamazoo in 1920. He left Gibson in late 1923 and in 1924 was listed in the Kalamazoo City Directory as “Proprietor of Specialize Radio.” In the early 1930s, he expanded Specialize Radio and in 1932 partnered with Lloyd Loar to open Vivi-Tone Instrument Manufacturing Co. By 1933, they had manufactured a line of electric instruments based on Loar’s patents. In 1935 Viv-Tone opened offices in Detroit while keeping manufacturing in Kalamazoo.
Clifford Vincent Buttelman, 36, Sales Manager. Born in Champlin, Minnesota (just a few months after Lloyd Loar’s birth in Lewiston, Illinois). In 1909, Buttelman moved to Jackson, Michigan to work as a printer for Acme Press. In 1914, he taught mandolin and guitar and was Secretary-Treasurer of the Gibson Studio Company in Jackson, as part of the teacher-agent program. By 1919, he had moved to Kalamazoo and was listed as Advertising and Sales Manager for Gibson. When Lewis Williams left Gibson at the end of 1923, Buttelman became General Manager and increased Loar’s title at the Gibson Factory from “Acoustical Engineer” to “Superintendent and Acoustical Engineer” (Music Trade Review, February 2, 1924). In 1925, both Loar and Buttelman moved to Boston to work for publisher Walter Jacobs (Cadenza) at Melody magazine, Buttelman as manager and Loar as editor. In later years Buttleman resided in Evanston, Illinois, as did Lloyd Loar.
Delmont C. Mafit, 34, Production Manager, was born in Michigan. Prior to coming to Gibson, he worked as an advertising writer for C. B. Hays Realty in Kalamazoo (Hays was a city developer and paper mill tycoon). From 1911 through 1915 he was listed as a salesman for Hays Enterprises. Mafit was hired by Gibson in 1917 as assistant production manager; in 1920, he was elevated to production manager, a post he held through 1923; in 1924 he is listed as “traveling salesman” for Gibson. By 1926, Mafit had left Gibson to return to C. B. Hays as salesman.
James Hart Johnstone, 37. “Foreman, Stringing Department” (1916 to 1925), was born July 31, 1882 in New York City. As a Gibsonian, he performed on nearly every mandolin and banjo family instrument. He also led the Gibson Plectral Sextet and the YMCA Mandolin Orchestra. As “Jumping Jazz Jimmie,” he led the Kazoo Banjo Bugs.” He was a prolific writer for the Crescendo magazine, as well as other publications, offering advice for players and insight to Gibson instruments. At Gibson in 1925, he was listed as clerk; 1927, inspector; in 1931, he is listed as music teacher in Kalamazoo, then back at Gibson by 1943 as “assembler.” Under physical disqualification, his draft card of 1917 notes “Left eye, sight almost gone. Right eye, not up to standard.”
Although Lloyd Loar had been a headliner at previous conventions, he did not appear on the program of any of the concerts at the convention; in fact, it appears that none of the Gibson employees who attended took part in any of the public performances.
James H. Johnstone delivered a well received address geared toward banjo players, and was elected vice-president of the Guild. Lewis A. Williams also addressed the convention in one of the meetings. Although the participation of the Gibson delegation seems to have been limited, there is evidence that they were at work behind the scenes. Perhaps the most rewarding opportunity came when Lloyd Loar met with two young Gibson-playing stars from Hartford, Connecticut, Walter Kaye Bauer (a Siegal protegé) and his pal Arthur William Crookes. Loar enlisted the talented duo to join the 1922 Gibsonians, with plans for the most ambitious summer tour ever scheduled for Gibson or for Loar and company.
New York City undoubtedly had more to offer than just music and instruments for these plectral enthusiasts. For example, there were stories of forays to Coney Island, and the shooting gallery there was a special attraction.
As we leave the convention, we offer a parting shot, a story told to us by Walter Kaye Bauer:
After checking into Hotel Astor, Walter and Arthur Crookes were in the lobby collecting their baggage when “there was quite a brouhaha at the check-in desk.” William Stahl, the music retailer and instrument manufacturer from Milwaukee, was livid because he had requested a room with a bathtub and was given a room with a shower. After some effort by the beleaguered clerk, rooms were switched and Stahl got his bathtub.
Bauer remarked to Crookes, “I didn’t know Bill Stahl was so delicate as to not be able to use a shower.”
After the concert concluded that night, Stahl invited a group of friends to his room, Bauer and Crookes included. Once the guests had gathered in the room, Stahl opened the bathroom door, “grinning from ear to ear.” Sticking up from the mountain of ice that filled the bathtub were 100 bottles of Milwaukee’s finest.
Walter recalled, “This was, of course, at the height of Prohibition.”