Julian Dyer referred us to a photo of Fate Marable, playing a steam
calliope.  Great shot.  Thanks, Julian!  The caption reminds us that
steam calliopists (those steamers who, in their word, played the
"CAL-ee-ope") took to wearing thick gloves, because the keys on the
calliope were metal, and became dangerously hot after the instrument
was played for a time.  Why nobody used wooden keys is a mystery,
given this problem which caused the playing to be somewhat inconsistent,
to say the least.  One reason why a lot of people assumed that
calliopes just couldn't be played on-note, on-rhythm.

Another reason, also related to the heat, is that if the player held
open the valve to one note for very long, that whistle would heat up.
This would expand the metal pipe, thus lowering its tone.  Sort of a
riverside Doppler effect!  As a result, players learned to perform
in that choppy, short-note way since taken for granted.  Definitely
un-typical for other organs, a main purpose for which was to sustain
notes, whereas a piano or other keyboard instrument could not.  The
piece de resistance, especially in the USA, became the "Entry of the
Gladiators" or "Barnum & Bailey March" so familiar to us all, with
that fast, quick-note music.

Organ pipes need to be re-tuned on occasion.  No less a moving organ,
with its jolts and bounces.  Especially steam calliopes where the pipes
are changing dimensions constantly.  So they needed tuning even more
than, say, a church organ.  But humans being the way they are, they
tend to let such things go.  Unfortunately, with the steam pipes, the
tuning plugs tended to become effectively welded into place if they
were not banged hard to re-position them.  Again, the public became
accustomed to the instruments being out of tune.

Incidentally, our long-suffering musician was also his own engineer.  He
had to keep the boiler stoked and burning merrily between performances,
so as to have plenty of steam for his dinful performances, and provide
all the normal maintenance done by "stationary engineers".  If he
worked for a circus, he would also be responsible for having his
instrument located in the assigned location, and probably help  to
maintain the special wagon on which it was fitted, and maybe even some
part in caring for the horses which pulled this Goliath.  In circuses,
he usually had other chores as well, not always the most pleasant.

The original steam calliopes were on riverboats, made to be heard a
mile or even further away, depending on weather conditions.  The reason
was, their first use on traveling "showboats", the better to be heard
well ahead of their actual arrival in their next town of victi...er,
audiences.  This assured a large crowd to be on hand when the craft
arrived nearby, and keep them so while the showboat was maneuvered into
position to be docked.  Contrary to cinema images, most showboats were
not self-propelled, but were barges, towed or pushed by separate steam
vessels.  Cumbersome a process at times depending on wind and currents
in the river, it was up to the calliopist to keep that crowd excited!
Listen to the song from the musical "Showboat":  "Showboat's a-comin!".

Now imagine yourself in the place of our performer, within a few feet
of the piercing steam organ whistles!  Ouch!  Oooh!

Finally, for you Emergency Medical Technicians who ever get called to
a steam-organ concert (the term used by many in the UK), there is the
last ignominious assault on the poor calliopist.  If there was a wind
blowing toward him, or perhaps no wind at all, he would be bathed in a
cloud of steam, which could be quite dangerous.

And remember, he's standing for long periods of time, right next to an
instrument which could be heard miles away!

Fortunately, we come to one Norman Baker of Muscatine, Iowa, also for a
time the home of newspaper writer/editor Samuel Clemens.  Here in this
town on the banks of the Mississippi, Norman was familiar with the
riverboat steam whistles, both playing and simply tooting.  He wanted
a device to call attention to his various show-business acts, including
prestidigitation, mind--reading, etc.  He developed the compressed-air
calliope (pronounced by its advocates "Cal-EYE-oh-pee", proper for the
ancient muse for which it was named by some soul lost to history).  His
version avoided most of the problems listed above, but nicely attracted
listeners from several blocks away, sufficient unto his ends.  He
preyed not on throngs eager to spend their money, but perhaps a dozen
or two at a time.

I did hundreds of parades and other appearances over a period of 20
years with my automatic roll-and-keyboard played 1920 vintage Tangley
Calliaphone, mounted on a 1909 model Autocar truck.  When we were
standing still, musicians would often come up, some asking if they
could play the calliope.  Many were amazed that my instrument was in
tune, and could really play a nice melody!

So, against the relatively sedate air-calliope performer, we return
to the portrait of a typical steam calliopist:  Red-faced, eyes teary,
burned fingers, musician (?), boiler engineer, probably covered with
dirt, perspiration, and grease, all wrapped into one.   The glamour of
it all!

Oh yes, one thing more.  He was probably fairly deaf.  What did you
say?  Eh?  What?  You think that's no big deal?  Well, dear friend,
how many such upstanding lads have YOU met recently?

So, you ask, "Why don't you get into another line?"  And the obvious
reply:  "What, quit show business?"

Lee Munsick
Appomattox, Virginia -- Where our country reunited