FILM

Magic Music from the Telharmonium

The Story of the First Synthesizer

Reynold Weidenaar

Color documentary with stereo sound. Copyright ©1998 Magnetic Music Publishing Co. (ASCAP). (28:51) VHS cassette (NTSC system) @ $129.00
We marvel at the great new technology humankind hath just wrought - the Internet, a worldwide system of computer communication exploiting the already existing mass of telephone lines and cables. It may then come as an even greater surprise to many to learn that the telephone and its wiring system had sparked other fabulous ideas over a century ago. 

This was no surprise to Reynold Weidenaar who, with his high-tech media company, has been heavily immersed in the business and the history of electronic music. Anyone at all interested in that subject will find this video, which chronicles the development and marketing of the very first music synthesizer, engrossing and thoroughly informative. That the Telharmonium - the conception of a young lawyer and inventor named Thaddeus Cahill - was an ultimate failure should not deny it a place in history, as its conception led to the development of today’s sophisticated musical electronics. Weidenaar has a way of presenting his story with as much sincere concern for its importance - indeed, sweeping importance - as the Burnses Ken and Rick reveal in their similarly styled film documentaries dealing with big chapters in American history. One will sense the contradictions and the ironies here - they are always more prevalent in truth than in fiction - where, for example, hugeness became both the attraction and the problem with many initial technologies, reminding us of the old saw “the bigger they are, the harder they fall.” For Cahill’s first Telharmonium was 60 feet long and weighed 200 tons. (The second and third versions were even larger, and one should not forget that the first major computer, the Eniac, took up an entire large room, as well.) Cahill’s “folly” also had close to 2,000 switches and cost him $200,000 to build.

And what exactly did it sound like? One earwitness tells us it resembled a pipe organ but with “the sound of the different instruments.” Unfortunately, unlike a Stradivari or Amati fiddle, we don’t have one around anymore to know what it sounded like. This is one of the documentary’s unavoidable ironies.  The producer is only too aware of this; his task then becomes one of reporter of all as many facts he could muster, while providing music that simply suggests such a phenomenon. Actually, it is a very modern synthesizer we are hearing - a Yamaha TX 802 Tone Generator programmed to the just intonation of Cahill’s own tuning system. One supposes Mr. Weidenaar would like us at least to think the flavor of the music creates a reasonably accurate aura of the historical time. But it is a good idea that one read the tech credits prefacing the storyboard-script (available for an extra $10) so as not to be misled into thinking he is hearing the real thing. The narrator never mentions this.

In other matters, Weidenaar is very frank and thorough in his reportage. Besides its enormous size (which was an initial attraction when allowed to be observed in action by a curious public) and difficulty in building and transporting, Cahill’s technological wonder was actually a “performer’s nightmare come true.” It required two players, one on the bass and the stops and in control of the tuning system, another playing the treble lines. They had to cover a lot of territory. Among other odd features, the keyboard was made up of alternating white and black keys. Despite performers’ best efforts, the bass was often thin and the treble on the dull side. It sounded best when the music was light and of relatively simple and transparent harmonic textures. Perhaps to stress the distortion factor or perhaps to symbolize the haze through which we view times past, we hear muddied, garbled voices now and then croaking out such things as the “invisible hands at the close of summer day striking from unseen harp strings unspeakable music, to comfort, to solace, and to cheer.” Another small criticism - this one with the script - is that it does not differentiate and identify the various voices. 

At the prices listed (as much as $169 for a BetacamSP) the Telharmonium cassette may be a slow seller to the public at large, if indeed there is one for the history of electronic music. But it is so carefully put together and so fascinating to view that we cannot help but recommend it to anyone with a working interest in the subject. No doubt Weidenaar is targeting professional markets. We can only hope it becomes available at the video and/or music sections of public and institutional libraries. If Mr. Weidenaar can successfully market it to a cable station or to PBS for airing, we would advise any viewer not to miss it.

B.L.C.