Whistling, as an art form,  is not something that most people take seriously;  it's generally relegated to the bargain bin of artistic expression,  along with the kazoo and the musical saw.  Though there is a vibrant modern art whistling movement which attracts more people to the cause than in recent decades, whistling,  in the past, held a higher status.  In a previous article,  Whistling Wizards (which you can read HERE),  I discussed my love for artistic whistling,  and my personal discovery of it's amazing history in the late 19th and early 20th century.  Artists like Margaret McKee, Sibyl Sanderson Fagan, Guido Gialdini, Fred Lowry,  Carson Robinson and Elmo Tanner not only filled my ears with melodious sounds,  they informed my understanding of a lovely corner of musical history.  It seems, from my various searchings on the subject, that the history of musical whistling itself would be much less full and colourful without the efforts of one woman:  Agnes Woodward.

Ms. Woodward,  at her evidently prestigious California School of Artistic Whistling (at suite 21. 8th and Beacon street,  Los Angeles) seems to have put in tremendous efforts in furthering the cause of whistling as a legitimate career. Agnes,  the daughter of Charles and Martha Woodward (Charles was a military man and a noted surgeon),  had three sisters, Elizabeth, Martha, and Emma, as well as Bess, a cousin, (who went of to act in silent film as Bess the Detectress, as Bessie Pinkerton Holmes).  These talented girls were apparently quite musical; both Emma and Agnes were music teachers,  and soon, Agnes started the Agnes Woodward Whistling Chorus.  Things must have gone very well for the enterprising warbler,  as she moved to Los Angeles to open her famed whistling school in 1909.

Now,  if you can imagine whistling as high art, with sophisticated young ladies dressed much as classical lieder singers, in pearls and gowns, giving erudite and pretty speeches before dazzling discerning audiences (including presidents and kings), this is the environment in which Agnes Woodward dwelt and nurtured.  As a part of the Lyceum movement in America (read about it HERE), which fostered an appreciation of art and culture in adults across the country, her young ladies enjoyed a modicum of notoriety,  especially Margaret McKee,  whose appeared on numerous recordings, which still exist to be enjoyed today. 

To a great extent, as a higher expression, whistling was the purview of women, it seems.  Male whistling as an entertainment seems to have been more Vaudeville oriented (though one article about the California school states the following: "Comely young maidens with rosebud lips are not the only students. Nay--there is a railroad engineer, a postal clerk, a merchant, and a man totally blind among the group of men aspiring to be whistle artists.")  In this spirit, note the amusingly wistful  final statement in the article to the left, speculating on the biological determinism in the whistling craft.

So,  like the other high-browed whistling matron of the era, Sibyl Fagan,  Agnes wrote a detailed instruction manual of musical whistling, entitled, Whistling as an Art, adding to the wonderful history of whistling in a charming, yet thoroughly credible way.  This book is available to read,  if you follow the link below.  How helpful it will be for a modern career in whistle-ism is questionable,  but as a fun read for lovers of history and fun artifacts.  Agnes seems to have been quite a woman,  and very typical of the go-get-em Edwardian-era gal;  her story creates a lovely wave of nostalgia in my heart.  This sort of non-ironic two-hands grasping of such a colourful skill is right in my wheelhouse,  and makes me wish that such things were still possible.  Believe me,  on a Sunday afternoon,  after a band concert in the park,  nothing would please me more than a grand whistling concert by Agnes and her lovely ladies.

 Here is an Internet Archive LINK to her book,  WHISTLING AS AN ART 

Gallery of clippings and images, many from The Lyceum Magazine, 1916-17
Click on images to enlarge

For those interested in Artistic whistling,  I'd like to recommend the Masters of Whistling organisation.  You can view their website HERE.  There are links to instruction,  Artists,  and histories much more informed and detailed that what I've written here.

Also, here are a few videos which I think most closely resemble the old school whistling concert. A wonderful mix of classical and popular that these Lyceum concerts would have had.  It makes me happy to see whistling presented in a relatively serious way in a public environment.  Notice that people seem to be enchanted by the performances, in a way normally reserved for singers.  I think Agnes' school would have a major presence today!

And, for you whistling geeks (like me),  here's an excerpt from the September 21st, 1939 episode of the Major Bowes Amateur Hour,  featuring the overtone counterpoint whistler of a visiting Brit fellow.  Enjoy!

Even as a very little kid,  I loved to hear whistling.  My dad had a breathy whistle that he did between his teeth and tongue, badly interpreting Hank Williams tunes...I thought it was cool, in spite of the fact that it was only actually about 10% whistle to 110% breath. I wanted to do it!  After hearing it on a song on the radio, for some reason it suddenly made sense.  After that it was a nearly pathological habit;  I whistled while walking, riding a bike, and even during school, often with unfortunate punitive results.  I didn't care...it was fun!

The first whistler I ever heard on record was probably, considering how much country music my parents listened to,  the wonderful singer Roger Whittaker.  He did quite a few whistling songs, as I recall,  but I hadn't remembered him until a friend recently reminded me.  The first whistler that I actually remember, and who inspired my own whistling,  was the big band whistler and singer Elmo Tanner.  When I got the 78 RPM disc of the Ted Weems orchestra doing their huge hit, Heartaches, Tanner's solo blew my mind.  He was so melodious and stylishly ornate; it was like a bird had learned to sing jazz!

That set me on the path to melodic whistling.  I learned the tongue whistle and the pucker whistle, then moved on to glottal trills and finally to double-chamber whistling.  It was an amazingly fun road to walk creatively, and I was always on the lookout for records with whistling on them.  That's when I discovered that,  in the early days of recording, whistling had been a mainstream novelty entertainment. I found recordings by Sibyl Sanderson Fagan, Joe Belmont, Guido Gialdini and the like,  and was thrilled to see that whistlers did every style of music that was popular at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century.  Waltzes, Cake Walks, Fox Trots, Mazurkas, Jazz, classical melodies, and much more were brought to life by these colourful artists.  In fact,  there were many songs which paired whistlers with known singers of the day;  it was not unusual for Billy Murray,  Ada Jones,  Arthur Collins, etc. to have a bit of whistling on a recording.

As usual,  the internet has made it possible to procure recordings of this kind like never before.  Cylinder and 78 RPM collectors are graciously making these things available.  That's how I discovered the virtuoso Margaret McKee;  I accidentally stumbled on her while link-surfing on Youtube...I almost passed out, she's so completely amazing.  It was like  doorway opened into an alternate universe.

Though there was an artistic whistling movement at the turn of the 20th century on the Lyceum circuit, the vast majority of these people were in Vaudeville;  it thrills me to imagine that you could go to a theatre reasonably regularly and see someone whistling with an orchestra!  As you will see in the images below, whistling artists advertised themselves as such; they toured, they advertised in industry periodicals, and they recorded fairly prolifically...there is a surprisingly large number of whistling solos in the Edison cylinder catalogue.   There was even a dedicated school of whistling in Los Angeles, headed by Whistling virtuosa Agnes Woodward!  (read more about her HERE)  Whistlers traveled across America,  treating audiences to daintily warbled versions of "La Boheme" and "Old Black Joe".

Of course, whistling, in spite of the occasional classical melody and fancily dressed puckerer,  was still not completely accepted by the long-hairs as a high entertainment, though whistlers (especially whistling ladies), did whistle for presidents and kings).  Here's a charming whistler's anecdote pulled from the March 1907 issue of the entertainment magazine, "The Clipper", that proves that point:

Victor V. Vass, the vaudeville performer of whistling specialties, proudly declares that he is the only variety man who has ever had the honor to dress in the same room with the late Henry Irving [ See: www.henryirving.co.uk ]. Vass was on tbe bill at the Broadway Theatre, In 1890, at a benefit performance for the Actors' Fund. Arriving late, be found no room assigned to him, so knocked on the door of the nearest dressing room. A gruff voice bade him "enter," and on opening the door Vass discovered the occupant to be tbe eminent Englishman. Turning hastily, intending to leave, he apologized for intruding, explaining, at the same time, that he had no place to dress.

"I'd be pleased to share my room with you, and especially so on this grand occasion," said Mr. Irving. Somewhat embarrassed, Vass accepted the Invitation, and began to get ready for his turn. Unfortunately, he bad forgotten his grease paint, and Mr. Irving offered some of his own special preparation. Vass carefully saved as much of this as possible, and wrapped it safely In his dressing case. While dressing, the most prominent actor in the land chatted genially on equal terms with the variety man, making kind inquiries about his work in the vaudeville field. Later, after Vass' turn, be ran into the thespian in the wings, and was warmly complimented on his work, and at the same time the actor expressed the hope that his fifteen minute sketch, "Waterloo," would please tbe audience as well as Vass' whistling act.

A week later the whistler was putting on his paint for his turn at one of the "continuous" houses. To his two companions in the dressing room be, in an off-hand sort of way, remarked: "It is not everybody that can use Henry Irving's specially prepared grease paint, as I'm doing."

"Listen to the whistler!" exclaimed one of the performers, "I wonder what brand he's smoking!"

A rare and wonderful story, wot?

The history of popular whistling at the turn of the last century is tragically forgotten by most people these days,  most of which would either consider it a corny blotch on human culture, or at best, a kitschy novelty, one of those (from their perspective) zany and surreal oddities that make the present time oh-so-vastly improved.  I see it as yet another thing that made previous generations great;  a time when people made entertainment for  themselves,  and nothing was off the table.  If you could make a melody with it, or dance on it, or spin it, or make it disappear,  people would watch you do it.  It's not like that today,  or at least not in the mainstream. There are some amazing whistlers in the last half century that have taken it to the high level that those earlier generations did, and even beyond, in a technical sense,  but very few that have made careers from it.  I have yet to see a poster advertising a whistling concert. 

Fortunately, the internet does provide a little solace...you can find recordings of master whistler Ron McCrobey, Swedish expert Leo Eide, also the 60's Hungarian songbird Hacki Tamás (HERE), and if you haven't heard Geert Chatrou, the current world whistling champion, or K. Sivaprasad, the South Indian classical whistler, you're in for a treat.

            Just don't look for their recordings in any store near you, or expect anyone you know to have heard of them:

On that note,  I leave you with a few nice images culled from the web, some nice examples of early whistling, as well as the most virtuosic whistling recording that I know of,  courtesy of my old music collection:  Carson Robinson, with a peppy 20's dance melody, accompanied by piano ~ "Whistle-itis"!

She was born Amal Al Atrach in Syria, in 1917, but she would become famous across the Arab world under her stage name, Asmahan.  In the west, the primary Arab woman singers of note would be the legendary Egyptian Um Kalsoum and the Lebanese superstar Fairuz,  but Asmahan is equally popular in every country in which Arabic is the native language.

Asmahan's father was Syrian,  but her mother was Lebanese.  Both were of the Druze religion, which is a tertiary offshoot of Shia Islam (which is in itself an offshoot of mainstreat, Sunni Islam) through the Isma'ili sect.  She showed a profound musical gift at an early age,  and she was fortunate that her brother was (and is) the Oud master, singer, and actor, Farid Al Atrash, one of the most famous musicians in the history of Arabic song.  Not to say, by any means, that she didn't rise on the strength of her own talent,  but to have him as a brother couldn't hurt!

Upon her move to the Egypt, which is basically the Hollywood equivalent of the (so-called) middle east, her star rose dramatically.  She began making records and films, singing in several dialects of Arabic, performing classical music at the highest level.  In doing research for this post I've become mildly obsessed with her history (I was already obsessed with her voice and volcanic beauty). Alongside being a singing star,  she also had a role in the espionage-laden world of the second world war, in which she delivered messages to the Syrian Druze from the British and Free French!  I'll be reading much more about this amazing stuff, I assure you.

For some great basic info about Asmahan,  see the Wiki article, HERE.

It's rare to run into real folk musicians anymore, especially if one is a fanatic.  After a while, as the older and more authentic, unspoiled, pre-modern types die off,  all we're left with in many cases are either quaint revivalist pastiches or glossy commercial musicians.  American oldtime music is like that to a depressing degree.  All of the great naturalistic folk players, like the amazing Roscoe Holcomb (actually spelled Rosco Halcomb), are long gone, leaving the hardcore listener with fewer and fewer discoveries as time goes on.  In the Bavarian Zither player Josef Bauer, we have exactly that kind of musician:  raw, unspoiled, and oozing intense regional flavour in every song.

Born in Greiling, a village in the county of Bad Tölz-Wolfratshausen, Bavaria, he was the youngest of nine children,  and he took up the Zither under the tutelage of one of his older brothers.  He enjoyed performing in various local gatherings,  and even entertained his fellow soldiers after being drafted into the army during WWI.  In 1918, after the defeat of the German army,  Bauer happily went home to his family farm, where he returned to performing music.  Around 1920 he joined a musical group formed by  Anna, Benedict and Mary Trischberger, called "Das Gaißacher Sänger und Zitherquartett" (Gaißach is another municipality in Bad Tölz-Wolfratshausen), which became very popular across the region.

He married Anna Trischberger, and he settled on Kraudn farm in the village of Lehen in Gaißach;  thus, by Bavarian traditional naming conventions,  he became, and remained,  Der Kraudn Sepp.  Sepp, or it's diminutive, Sepp'l, is a regional nickname for Josef, so he was called "Josef of Kraudn farm".

He played with the quartet until Anna died in 1967, which is an incredible run for a group of any musical style,  and then went on to perform Zither solos and songs alone.  He made a number of albums, and he came to represent, in many ways, the ideal of the regional country lifestyle.  True to the vernacular music of the German-speaking countries, his songs are full of "earthy" (read: bawdy) content;  songs for farmers and carpenters to drink thick, foamy beer to.

I was turned on to Der Kraudn Sepp by my Dutch friend Harry Van Lunenburg, and I've been obsessed ever since.  Real Bavarian music, in the USA, anyway,  is fairly difficult to come by, even when you have any idea who is who;  what an incredible find I have in this amazingly expressive player.  His rustic, yet expressive Zither picking  compliments his unadorned singing in a colourfully unpredictable way.

His album Sonntag (Sunday) is readily available on the web, both digitally and on compact disc.