Dancehall music in 1930's Ireland

builttospill wrote: »

Hi,

I'm wondering if anyone knows exactly what type of music would have been played in the dancehalls in Ireland in 1932 that made the clergy in rural areas try to stamp it out and pontificate during the Lenten Pastorals?

I can't find a definite answer online. I was thinking Ceili music but someone said swing or jazz and it was this foreign influence that annoyed the church.

For some reason I can't imagine progressive, eclectic jazz being all the rage in 1930's Ireland but perhaps I'm wrong.

Does anyone know?

Reekwind wrote: »

Not too surprising. As the quintessential modernist sound, jazz, often played by African-Americans bands, really was the sound of Weimar Berlin

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MO0lUXnAs-U

Reekwind wrote: »

Ol Adolf would not have been a fan. Jazz and other forms of modern music were thoroughly despised by reactionaries across Europe. They were very much seen as indications of 'moral degeneracy' and wherever there was a successful conservative backlash - Germany, France, Stalinist Russia, etc - jazz and the likes were banned ...........It was discouraged in favour of more 'Germanic' music

“The cocaine of modern music”

November 22, 2010 by dfallon

I’ve always been fascinated by the crusade against jazz music in 1920′s and 1930′s Ireland. A piece in the past on aspects of the hidden history of soccer in the capital touched on a GAA convention in 1930 which called for the banning of “jazz dancing”.
The title of this post comes from an Irish Times report from October 12, 1927. In it, Signor Pietro Mascagni was asked for his opinion on jazz music. “I am for sound in music and against noise” he noted.
This 1938 piece from The Irish Times is among my favourite finds to date however, coming from June 20. The crusade against jazz was very much alive and well in the capital. Other “inferior music” was also condemned. Mad times.

Still, not everyone in Dublin was scared away. Here’s a 1930 ad for a Dublin music shop advertising stocking “the latest jazz tune” among other things.

Give me some time, and I’ll try knock out a piece down the line on jazz in the capital. There’s a fascinating little subculture alright!

CDfm wrote: »

And there were cowboys that were very popular.

Monday, 5 October 1998 The Independent





1 SEPTEMBER 1939 is imprinted forever as "the day war broke out", thanks to the immortal broadcasts by the then Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, and the radio comedian Robb Wilton. Three days later Louis Ellman, manager of the Theatre Royal Dublin, cabled a somewhat different news bulletin to the President of Republic Pictures:
Gene Autry's personal appearance broke all existing box-office records since we opened. Autry played to 80,000 paid admissions. Police records estimate Autry's parade drew on the streets 75,000 people, the largest crowd ever assembled in all Dublin history.
Clearly the Irish knew what was important in the world of that dark September.
Gene Autry, billed by his studio as "Public Cowboy Number One", had arrived in London in August 1939, his first ever trip outside his native America. With him, of course, came his horse Champion, a golden Palomino who would in time receive his own television series and signature tune, "Champion the Wonder Horse", sung by the pop star Frankie Laine. But back in 1939 Champion hit his first British headlines when Autry rode him up the steps and into the Savoy Hotel. "Shooting irons must be parked with hats" ran the footnote on the press invitations.





Louis Elmann and the Theatre Royal had Judy Garland of the Wizard of Oz perform - not to sure about Toto




The fourth Theatre Royal opened on September 23, 1935 in Hawkins Street. It was a large art deco building designed for an audience of 3,700 people seated and 300 standing, and was intended for use as both theatre and cinema. It also housed the Regal Rooms Restaurant. The theatre had a resident 25-piece orchestra under the direction of Jimmy Campbell and a troupe of singer-dancers, the Royalettes. From the beginning, the sheer size of the building made it difficult for the Royal to remain economically viable. The policy adopted at first to confront this problem was to book big-name stars from overseas to fill the building. These included Gracie Fields, George Formby, Max Wall, Max Miller and Jimmy Durante. However these shows rarely made a profit.
In 1936, the Royal was acquired by Patrick Wall and Louis Elliman, who also owned the Gaiety. With the outbreak of the Second World War, Wall and Elliman were forced to keep the two theatres going with native talent only. This led to the emergence of a raft of Irish acts who were to provide the mainstay of the Royal's output for the remainder of its existence. These included such Irish household names as Jimmy O'Dea, Harry O'Donovan, Maureen Potter, Danny Cummins, ((Mike Nolan)), Alice Dalgarno, Noel Purcell, Micheál MacLiammoir, Cecil Sheridan, Jack Cruise and Patricia Cahill. In July 1951 Judy Garland appeared for a series of sold out performances and was received with tremendous ovations. The legendary singer sang from her dressing room window to hundreds of people who were unable to get tickets and critics dubbed her "America's Colleen" She drew the largest crowds up until that time and was only surpassed by the visits to Ireland of United StatesPresidentJohn F. Kennedy and the Pope in the 1960s. Popular Irish American entertainer Carmel Quinn also made her singing debut here during the early 1950s. Under pressure from rising overheads and the increasing popularity of the cinema and the introduction of television, the fourth Theatre Royal, Dublin closed its doors on June 30, 1962.

builttospill wrote: »

Cool, thanks. I'll take all this into consideration.

Dance and identity construction in the 1930s
In order to contextualise the discussion it is necessary to give some idea of the political
and commercial interests that were instrumental in shaping the public meanings of social
dance at this time. As indicated above, dance had emerged as a significant marker of
cultural identity and one of the main arenas in which competing discourses on national
identity was played out. From the 1890s on a canon of ‘authentic traditional’ Irish dance
(see Brennan, 1994) which came to be known as céilí dance had been established and
espoused by members of the Roman Catholic clergy, the Gaelic League and other
culturally nationalist organisations. I have suggested elsewhere (O’Connor, 2003) that
social dance became a site of cultural struggle between the forces of ‘tradition’ and
‘modernity’. Within this framework, céilí dance was perceived as authentic, pure and
graceful while non-national, or what were commonly referred to as ‘modern’ii or ‘foreign
dances’, were constructed as ‘other’ (see Foley, 2001). The era was marked, therefore,
by displays of public concern about appropriate types of dance, duration of dances and
venues.
Coterminous with the sustained efforts to promote national dance was the increasing
popularity of ‘modern’ and ‘foreign’ dances in the form of ballroom and jazziii.
Opposition to jazz was most notably expressed by the two groups who were promoting
‘traditional’ Irish dance - the Catholic clergy and the Gaelic League on the grounds that it
was both morally indecent and culturally corrupting. However, it is worth noting that
opposition to jazz was not unique to Ireland and that the negative response here echoed
those of religious and cultural groups in Britain, mainland Europe and the US (see, for
4
example, Back, 1997). The opposition mounted by the Anti-jazz Campaign finally led to
the Irish government capitulating to their demands by introducing the Dance Halls’ Act
in 1935 which legislated for the control of public dancing.
The 1930s also witnessed the commercialisation of social dancing; the demise of house
dancing (see for example Brennan, 1999; Tubridy, 1994) and the establishment of
commercial public dance halls. Dancing was a very popular leisure activity in Ireland in
the 1930s and its commercial potential was becoming increasingly evident. At this stage
there were two main players involved in the ownership and control of dance halls, the
Catholic Church through local clergy and commercial owners in the form of
individual/family enterprises. While commercial interests were ostensibly represented by
local businessmen and, voluntary interests by Catholic clergy and local community
groups, in reality he picture is not so clear cut. Commercial and moral interests appear to
be complexly interwoven. Though more detailed research would be necessary to provide
a definitive picture, a couple of pertinent observations can be made here. The clergy
were heavily involved in the building of local parish halls. According to Brennan (1999,
p. 126) ‘[A]ll over rural Ireland, the clergy organised the construction of parochial halls,
and thereafter Church and state combined to eliminate the organisation of any dances
outside these halls’. At least some of the profits would have accrued to local clergy
personally (eg. repair of parochial houses) or to parish institutions for which they were
responsible (eg. repair of primary schools). Local/community groups were also dependent
on the authorisation of the clergy for use of parochial halls for dancing. Whatever the
intricacies of ownership and control of dance venues, there were now a wider variety of
indoor venues than heretofore. They included a minority of private houses or outhouses
5
such as barns (such venues to be declared illegal on the enforcement of the Dance Halls
Act), parochial halls with variable flooring, heating, lighting, and sanitation facilities,
and, commercially owned dance halls with better facilities predominantly, though not
exclusively, in the bigger urban centres. Though by no means monolithic, a pattern of
association between venues and types of dance began to emerge. Traditional céilí dances
tended to be organised in more local and downmarket venues by either clergy or local
community leaders whereas ‘modern’/ jazz dances were organised in the commercially
owned dance halls in the bigger towns.
Newspaper representations of the dance hall space
Dance references generally appeared in three specific sections of the newspapers. They
carried advertisements for dances. Dance was also addressed in the local news sections
(or parish notes) where announcements of upcoming dances and accounts of dances that
had recently taken place were printed. And finally, there were references to dance in the
main news pages such as reports from local council meetings and district court
proceedings. A perusal of these references led to the identification of four main
discourses two of which represented and were addressed to women, and two of which
were related exclusively to men. Within these discourses I have categorised the dance
hall variously as a ‘degenerate space’, as a ‘utopian space’, as a ‘battleground’ and,
finally, as a space for the construction of local and national identitiesiv.
The dance hall as ‘degenerate space’
The dance hall was constructed as both a dangerous and degenerate space for women
and was expressed mainly in reports of statements from clergy, cultural leaders and, local
and national politicians.