From: Winslow Yerxa <76450.32~ompuServe.COM> Date: 03 Dec 96 03:40:26 EST Subject: 100-hole chromatic
TO: internet:harp~arply.com
Pat Missin writes:
OK - yu suused me owt: I cat'n type! I was reefering to a 100-hole crhomatci, obviuosly.
Aw, Pat! You keep giving all the good stuff away. Now people are gonna start asking, so I might as well tell them . . .
The 100-hole chromatic has a long history, but almost none of the early instruments survive. A harmonica with 100 holes in one row is, naturally, very long, and it could easily take an entire tree branch to make the comb. Unfortunately, the first ones were made in Greece, where firewood is very scarce. Even a plastic-combed model would not be safe. Having centuries ago burnt up all the available wood (100-hole chromatics included), they are now burning all the discarded plastic they can find.
Originally the 100-hole chromatic was made with 1 reed per hole. The inventor, Gouernios (sometimes transliterated into the latin alphabet as Wvernius), had the idea of making an instrument with a chromatic range of 9 full octaves:
11 semitones x 9 plus top octave note = 100
This didn't go over well in the land of Pythagoras, and the omission only added fuel to the flames. Anecdotal tales of Wvernius perishing on a sacrificial pyre with his instruments, however, appear to be apocryphal.
However, the idea did not die. Phoenix-like, it rose again in China, where an early member of the Huang family, tired of stacking several individual diatonic harmonicas in the traditional Asian practice, got the idea of stacking multiple reedplates and combs into one instrument. By combining 11 combs and 12 eight-note reedplates (actually, 8 eight-noters and 4 plates with 9 notes - I am told the extra 4 notes had little utility but were a matter of feng shui), he came up with an enormous dagwood sandwich. Each reed was in its own cell, to eliminated the need for windsavers -replacing them would have been a major undertaking.
Each reedplate was tuned in thirds over two octaves, to a major scale, giving all the chords in that scale. All 12 major scales were included, one on each reedplate. With a curved mouthpiece and reedplates ground to be flush with the lacquered and polished surface, the player could glide over the surface to play any diatonic chord laterally, and any scale vertically (due to a cunning vertical arrangement of reedplates. Harmonic minor versions were also produced but, for practical reasons, a tremolo version (i.e. 200 reeds) was never attempted, and, despite its enormous versatility, this design never caught on in Asia.
Later, in post-WWI Vienna, microtonal music began to make serious inroads. Rather than bend notes to get the quarter-tones, an Austrian composer took his cue from Renaissance keyboard makers who split the black keys into separate flat and sharp keys, and came up with a microtonal slide chromatic with four reedplates and three combs, and not two slide positions (out and in) but four (out, in, double in and all the way). Basically, one set of reedplates was tuned to C and C# like the standard chromatic, while the other set was tuned a quarter-tone sharp from these.
Technically, this should really be considered a 13-hole chromatic. With the mouthpiece and slide assembly removed, though, it did have 104 separate reed cells. For reasons never explained, the last four cells were blank.
Look at a regular 12-hole slide and you'll see a sort of checkerboard alternating pattern - where the upper hole is exposed, the lower is covered, and vice versa. But with this instrument, the pattern of exposed holes ran in a cascading stairstep pattern, ascending from left to right. The idea was to start with a 4-note tone cluster of qaurter tones, then selective remove the lower notes from the cluster one by one. However, as this slide pattern needed considerable room, the physical placement of the reed cells was stretched out so that the instrument ended up about a half-meter long. Need I comment on its neglected state?
All these instruments have been solidly documented, and corroborated by reliable witnesses. What has never been proven is the hula harp, although the rumor has an irritating way of persisting. About 1956, during the height of the hula hoop craze, a European immigrant in Los Angeles is said to have tried embedding pitch pipes in brightly colored plastic hoops about 14 inches in diameter (large enough to encircle the average head). A hundred notes were said to have been included, in sequences that would play popular tunes of the day. However, no-one could quite get the hang of moving their heads in a way to get the thing rolling around at mouth level while getting enough of an embouchure going to play a tune. Those who insist on the veracity of this story claim that disused hula harps started turning up at love-ins and other psychedelic gatherings about 10 years later, where two or three stoned-out attendees would hold a hula harp while one of their companions stood in the middle and whirled around while playing glissandos on the now badly out-of-tune instruments. (The entirely spurious story of a head-mounted rack version for folk guitar players has been hotly denied even by those who stoutly attest to the other parts of this pitiful delusion.)
By the way, I might as well tell you that if you visit the Harmonica Museum in Trossingen, you probably won't see these on display. If you ask the curator about them, he's sure to deny everything and treat it as a joke. You must understand that this is an important part of his job. You might as well go to the Vatican and ask to see their vast collection of erotic art. It just *isn't done* - except for serious scholars with the right credentials, on a need-to-know basis. Open this stuff up to the slavering public and they'd soon be overrun by weirdos.
Now, Pat, are you satisfied? Gee, and I thought you were my friend . . .