“In this device the inventor has radically improved an earlier model demonstrated a year ago, which he called his ‘printing visagraph’ [P.S.M., July ‘31, p. 40]. That machine, resembling an office desk in size and appearance, transformed ordinary bookprint into embossed letters that could be read with the fingers. It was hailed as an amazing development, though the user had to perform rather complicated adjustments in inserting the book, and though smaller type than bookprint was beyond its reach. These handicaps have now been removed.
“So far improved is the new ‘automatic visagraph’ by a modified scanning system that it will reproduce the type of newspapers, magazines, and virtually anything in print. Even such things as radio diagrams and maps, hitherto inaccessible to a blind person because not even an attendant could read them to him, are now made ‘visible.’
“To read a book with the latest model, two of the pages are thrust through a slot, with no effort to straighten the book or align it. The volume is pushed automatically across a transverse slit, beneath which a fast-moving electric eye scans the printed line. [Picture captions - punctuation verbatim]
“This totally blind girl is reading a novel in ordinary bookprint with the aid of the new visagraph in which and electric eye scans the printed page so raised letters appear on aluminum foil beneath the girl’s fingertips. Left, radio diagram, typewriting, and handwriting made ‘visible’ for blind” [One wonders how “visible” a blind person using the visagraph to read this issue of Popular Science would find the resulting bas-relief of a halftone of a photograph of a bas-relief of “a radio diagram, typewriting, and handwriting.”]
“This form of visagraph reproduces a map from a newspaper so that it can be “read” by a blind man”
“Electric Eye Sets Type Rapidly Without Aid of Human Hands “HIGH-SPEED typesetting without the intervention of the human hand is forecast by the recent demonstration of an automatic linotype machine. Controlled by an electric eye, it transforms typewritten ‘copy’ directly into lead type. The only limit to its speed is said by its Charlotte, N.C., inventor to be that of standard linotype machinery.
“Copy for use in the automatic typesetter is written upon a special typewriter which prints a symbol composed of from one to six dots beneath each letter and space. The letters are only for the guidance of writer and editor, for the dot symbols alone actuate the typesetter.
“Each symbol has been chosen to represent a certain letter. When a sheet of this copy is fed into a special carriage that replaces the usual linotype keyboard, an electric eye scans the lines of dots. Each symbol, according to the number and pattern of dots, actuates the proper lever that sends the corresponding letter of type sliding from the type magazine into place. The lines of type are then cast into slugs in the conventional manner.”
“PHONOGRAPH RECORDS SELECTED BY PHONE “CUSTOMERS of a British dealer in phonograph records now choose their purchases by telephone. The enterprising merchant fitted a talking machine with an electric pick-up and amplifier, and plays over the selections before a telephone fitted with a hornlike transmitter. The telephone subscriber then places his order for the desired records.”
“NEW ROBOT CAMERA IS DANCE PARTNER “A MOVIE camera that bobs up and down in the motions of a dance has been introduced for realistic close-ups in ballroom scenes. Cams in the automaton’s rubber-tired wheels may be adjusted for a waltz, foxtrot, or tango, and the actress goes through the steps in the robot’s wooden arms. It is powered by electric motors.”
Source: Popular Science Monthly, June 1932
Piesse’s Smell Organ
From Richard Kadrey
The Smell Organ by Joseph H Kraus
“Which one of us has not listened to the enrapturing tones of the church organ or the pipe organs in motion picture play houses, and not awakened to its appeal? Now an entirely new organ has been developed, which instead of inspiring and thrilling audiences by sound, translates music into corresponding odors.
“The suggestions comes from Dr. Septimus Piesse, a French chemist, who claims that every perfume produces its own particular effect on the end organs of smell terminating in the mucosa, mucous membranes lining of the nose. The organs are called the olfactory cells, and just as every note has its effect upon the ear and as the colors have their effect upon the retina of the eye, so this transposed music, the music of smells, will have its effect upon the olfactory organs.
“The range of notes has been carefully plotted, the heavier odors being assigned to the low notes, and sharp pungent odors to the high notes. Thus, starting with the bass clef three octaves below middles C, the musical notes, and the odors assigned to them, (are listed on a separate list at the end of this piece). [The smell organ would be used to play olfactory transcriptions of classical music.]
“Of course, the combination of odors will creates a smell entirely different from any individual qualities of the various perfumes and it is necessary that, in the soft, dreamy compositions, the odors blend harmoniously. Discords will have a decidedly unpleasant effect but inasmuch as the composers did not dwell upon discords to any great extent, the audience will be saved the rather unusual embarrassment of smelling disagreeable combinations. Some music would perhaps have to be changed and the odors carefully graduated so that no particular perfume will predominate, except when the loud pedal, or rather in the smell organs, the strong odor pedal is trod upon.
“It is, therefore, up to the perfumer to combine the mixtures in much that same way that an artist blends colors, or as a good florist makes a bouquet. If it is desirable to insert a little contrast into the bouquet, the appropriate blossoms or grasses are used, and so the perfumer likewise would have to employ the proper aromas.
“The arrangement of the apparatus is such as to include five or more octaves of colors.. These odors have been discovered and placed in their particular location after painstaking research, the odors being arranged in bottles and sprayed up into the air by an atomizer-like action.
“In each of these bottles, we may note the atomizer or sprayer attachment. These atomizers are actuated by keys on the piano. Pressure upon any of these keys closes a circuit, which operates a solenoid, or suction type magnet, the latter releasing a valve and permitting compressed air from an air compressor and storage tank to blow the odorous vapor upward. In back of the individual spray nozzle is a funnel-shaped pipe likewise connected to a compressed air supply source. These create a constant drift of air blowing the odors upward and this draft is further facilitated by large rotary fans at the rear of the theatre. The strong pedal under the piano keyboard connects with the air supply compartment and operates an auxiliary valve which admits a further supply of air and consequently increases the amount of perfume and directly increases the strength of the odor.
“It is possible that to rid the room quickly of any odor, ozonized air may be permitted into the funnels.”
BASS CLEF
C Patchouli
D Vanilla
E Clove Bark
F Benzoin
G Frangipane
A Storax
B Clove
C Sandalwood
D Clematis
E Rattan
F Castorium
G Pergulaire
A Balsam Of Peru
B Carnations And Pinks
C Geranium
D Heliotrope
E Iris
F Musk
G Pois De Senteur
A Balsam Of Tolu
B Cinnamon
C Rose
TREBLE CLEF
C Rose
D Violet
E Cassia
F Tuberose
G Orange Flower
A New Mown Hay
B Arome
C Camphor
D Almond
E Portugal
F Jonquil
G Syringa
A Tonka Bean
B Mint
C Jasmine
D Bergamot
> E Citron
F Ambergris
G Magnolia
A Lavender
B Peppermint
C Pineapple
D Citronel
E Vervain
F Civet
Source: June 1922 issue of (the now long dead) magazine, Science and Invention, as reprinted in Experimental Musical Instruments magazine
Scott’s Electronium
From Richard Kadrey
Invented by composer Raymond Scott (a sample of whose works are collected on Reckless Nights and Turkish Twilights, and immortalized in countless cartons, most recently Ren & Stimpy) spent the last years of his life working with electronic composing systems that he designed.
One of his devices, the Electronium , has been described as “one of the first applications of artificial intelligence in music composition.” (Justin Green)
Raymond Scott: “A composer (guidance control) asks the Electronium to suggest an idea, theme or motive. He listens to these on a monitor speaker. When happy with one of these ideas, he stops the Electronium and starts recording.
“Faster, slower, a new rhythm design, a hold, a pause, a second theme, variation, extension, elongation, diminution, counterpoint, a change in phrasing, an ornament.ad infinitum.whatever the composer requests, the Electronium accepts and acts out his directions.” The only photo I’ve seen of the device makes it look like an old analog computer flanked by Bauhausian monitors.
Source: MUSICAL LEGENDS OF AMERICA, by Justin Green (with thanks to Irwin Chusid). Tower Pulse! magazine, p. 26, July 1994
Candle-Powered Radio
From Alan Wexelblat
“In 1962 I began to design and develop a new type of communications device. An unusually gifted graduating student, George Seegers, did the electronic work and helped build the first prototype. The resulting one-transistor radio, using no batteries or current and designed specifically for the needs of developing countries, consisted of a used tin can. This can contained wax and a wick that burned (just like a wind-protected candle) for about twenty-four hours. The rising heat was converted into enough energy (via thermocouples) to operate an earplug speaker. The radio was, of course, non-directional, receiving any and all stations simultaneously. But in emerging countries, this was then of no importance: there was only one broadcast (carried by relay towers placed about fifty miles apart).
“Assuming one person in each village listened to a ‘national news broadcast’ for five minutes daily, the unit could be used for a year until the original paraffin wax was gone. Then more wax, wood, paper, dried cow dung (which has been successfully used as a heat source for centuries in Asia), or for that matter anything else that burns could continue to keep the unit in service. All the components: earplug, speaker, hand-woven copper radial antena, and ‘earth’ wire terminating in a (used) nail, tunnel diode, and thermocouple, were packed in the empty third of the can. The entire unit was made for just below 9 cents (1966 dollars).
“After further developmental work, the radio was given to the U.N. for use in villages in Indonesia. No one, neither the designer, nor UNESCO, nor any manufacturer, made any profit or percentages out of this device since it was manufactured as a ‘cottage industry’ product.”
Source: From Design for the Real World written by Victor Papanek. I’m not sure this is a dead tech or still in use.
Cahill’s Telharmonium
From Richard Kadrey
[Until I can get a copy of the definitive work on the Telharmonium (The Telharmonium: A History of the First Music Synthesizer by Reynold Weidenaar, NYU, 1988), here are notes from various sources.]
From the review of Weidenaar’s paper published in CMJ. The review contains some interesting basic info about the Telharmonium: Reynold Weidenaar tells the story of Thaddeus Cahill and his siblings, who constructed the Telharmonium, a mammoth electrical generating plant and distribution system designed to provide music for millions over telephone lines.
It is the hopeful tale of a vestige of the Industrial Age: five U.S. patents, begun in 1895; three completed instruments, including the commercial models in 1906 and 1911; multimillion-dollar investments in Telharmonic Music by otherwise astute capitalists; the euphoria of inaugural triumphs in 1907 at Telharmonic Hall in New York City; and the very early success at piping music into the very correct Manhattan restaurants and other venues.
It is a sad tale, involving the construction of massive alternator tone wheels that tantalizingly predated amplification technology; a business marriage with the New York Telephone Company that soured when Telharmonic Music proved to interfere with phone service
(note: according to another source, the Telharmonium’s signal was too much for the old switching systems, and tended to blow them out)
Thaddeus Cahill’s fixed ideas about Just Intonation, and the problems his 36-note-per-octave keyboard caused Telharmonium performers; Lee DeForest’s early radio transmissions of the Telharmonium, and Cahill’s inability to perceive the implications; an ill-fated second season at Telharmonic Hall, that was exacerbated by the financial panic of 1907; the deterioration of the Telharmonium into a musical freak show, and the failure of the licensee companies in 1908; and an abortive comeback in 1911 that struggled all the way into 1918.
It is a poignant tale of the wooden refusal of the Cahills to realize that a (200-ton) musical instrument chipped from iron was an anachronism even in the early 20th century; Arthur T. Cahill’s crusade to carry forward the ideas of brothers Thaddeus and George following their deaths; and Arthur’s circulation of a letter as late as 1951 trying to find a refuge for the first Telharmonium.
Arthur had been keeping the historic 14,000 lb Telharmonium prototype in storage at his own expense for almost 50 years, and finally sought “a permanent and a public home for this priceless monument to man’s genius.” There were no takers, and not even a small part of this incredible music machine is now available to wonder at.
[From SINGING THE BODY ELECTRIC, by Mark Sinker. The Wire, September 1995, issue 139. An article looking at various early electronic instruments:]
“The first and most fabulous monster is Thaddeus Cahill’s Telharmonium: 200 tons, 60 feet across, taking up a whole floor and the basement below. It looked, surviving pictures tell us, like a church organ mated with a weaving loom.
Cahill, a Canadian, built it in Holyoke, MA.; partially funded by the New England Electric Music Company.it cost a then-phenomenal $200,000, and was moved in 1906 to Telharmonic Hall in New York. The idea was to transmit ‘Telharmony’ across America, to hotels, restaurants, theaters and private homes, via local telephone exchanges.
The Telharmonium itself was a kind of keyboard-operated dynamo organ; the bulk of the machine consisted of vast teethed gears on engine-driven spinning shafts which caused alternating currents in batteries and magnets.
There were no loudspeakers in those days; radio was only five years old, and Lee DeForest’s audion tube, which amplified signals many thousand-fold, wouldn’t exist for at least another decade- so it fed straight into the telephone system. Unfortunately, it needed huge voltages and caused interference over the rest of the telephone network, such as it then was- so that one day an enraged businessman burst in, broke it up and threw the machinery into the Hudson river, or so the story goes.
“Actually, there were no less than three Telharmoniums, spread over some 20 years: the first Cahill had started in 1895 in Washington, DC, patented in 1897, finished in 1900; the Holyoke-NYC model was the second; a third begun in 1908, was finished in 1911 and certainly still in use in 1916. But the mid-teens radio broadcasts into the home were the coming thing, and the project went broke for lack of subscribers.
“For a short while, however, the Telharmonium was big news. A story in McClure’s Magazine, ‘New Music for an Old World,’ brought it to the attention of Ferruccio Busoni, a virtuoso classical pianist and critical intellectual, Italian by birth, German by temperament, respected all across Europe. B
usoni (whose pupils included Edgard Varese) cited the Telharmonium in a polemic he was then writing (for some reason he calls it the ‘dynaphone’).
His 1907 ‘Sketch of a New Aesthetic of Music’ proposed that music pass beyond its 19th century framings- harmony as the possible combination of a mere 12 notes, a highly selective and conventional instrumentation- the embrace the ‘infinite’ gradations within the octave structures: ‘The question is important and imperious, how and on what are these tones are to be produced. Fortunately, while busied with this essay, I received from American direct and authentic intelligence which solves the problem in a simple manner. I refer to an invention by Dr. Thaddeus Cahill. He has constructed a comprehensive apparatus which makes it possible to transform an electric current into fixed and mathematically exact number of variations.’
“At which point Busoni hurtles intoxicatingly into an airborne rhetoric that flatters Cahill’s 200 ton apparatus: ‘Who has not dreamt that he could not float on air? And firmly believed his dream to be reality? Let us take thought, how music may be restored to its primitive, natural essence; let us free it from archectonic, acoustic and aesthetic dogmas; let it be pure invention and sentiment, in harmonies, in forms, in tone-colours (for invention and sentiment are not the prerogative of melody alone); let it follow the line of the rainbow and vie with the clouds in breaking sunbeams; let Music be naught else than Nature mirrored by and reflected from the human breast; for it is sounding air and floats above and beyond the air; within Man himself as universally and absolutely as in Creation entire.’”
Soviet bone music samizdat recordings
From Nick Montfort
This was apparently just an unusual way of producing vinyl records (themselves a dead medium), only briefly described here. However, as this form of record reached a certain geography that was otherwise cut off, and since bone music had its own network of distribution and underground production, I think it’s worth mention. The comment in parenthesis is Brodsky’s.
The Dead Media Notebook Page 15