My Musical Family - Joy Riggs
My great-grandfather, Bandmaster G. Oliver Riggs, right, gives a cornet lesson to my dad, William J. Riggs, near Bemidji, Minnesota, in the early 1940s.
Updated: 1 hour 10 min ago
Instruments for All Drive is Here!
For all you Northfielders reading my blog, tomorrow is the day to drop off band and orchestra instruments you no longer need or want, plus gently used lesson books and other music accessories.
When: Saturday, Feb. 11, 9 a.m. to noon
Where: The Northfield Middle School, 2200 Division Street South
Members of the Northfield Fine Arts Booster Club will be at the Northfield Middle School cafeteria accepting your tax-deductible donations and handing out receipts. The Northfield Area Foundation is providing a $5,000 matching grant for the program, so we are hoping for great participation!
If you don’t have any instruments to donate or can’t make it to the event, you can still support the cause of making music accessible to all. The Northfield Fine Arts Booster Club will happily accept your cash donations to repair these instruments and purchase supplies for students who use donated instruments.
Checks can be made out to NFAB and mailed to the Northfield Fine Arts Boosters, 1400 Division Street, Northfield MN 55057 (please write “Instruments For All” in the memo line). Or, you can visit the NFAB site at GiveMN and donate securely online.
We’ll also have some brochures available tomorrow for anyone who wants to become a member of the NFAB. The group’s worthy mission is to provide resources and promote community support for all the fine arts programs at Northfield High School, including speech, theater and visual arts.
I plan to arrive at the middle school shortly before 9 a.m. with some lesson books (for trumpet, French horn and viola) and an airport of coffee from Goodbye Blue Monday. I don’t want to drink all the coffee myself, so stop by and visit me!
Categories: Citizens
Buffalo Soldiers and Cowboy Musicians
Steve, Sebastian and I attended an inspirational presentation today by Shelton Johnson, a National Park ranger who has spent the past 15 years telling the story of the Buffalo Soldiers who served at Yosemite and Sequoia national parks at the turn of the last century.
Buffalo Soldiers were African Americans who joined the U.S. Army after the Civil War, served in the West and fought in the Indian Wars. The story of their service in Yosemite and Sequoia had nearly been forgotten until Johnson uncovered it (for a longer explanation of this fascinating story, including why they were called Buffalo Soldiers, click on this Yosemite National Park link).
I didn’t know about Johnson or Buffalo Soldiers until a few years ago when I watched the Ken Burns documentary, The National Parks: America’s Best Idea (I did know of Bob Marley’s song, Buffalo Soldier, but didn’t know the history behind it). Johnson, who is featured in the film, wrote the book Gloryland, a fictional account of a buffalo solider who patrols Yosemite in 1903. We bought the book today for Sebastian, a history and National Park enthusiast, and I’m looking forward to reading it, too.
Shelton Johnson signs a copy of his book for Sebastian (photo by Steve). During his presentation at Carleton College, “Gloryland: Using History and Literature as Tools for Social Change,” Johnson explained how astounded he was to come across an old photo of five Buffalo Soldiers at Yosemite. When he asked about it, another employee told him there was a rumor that a few Buffalo Soldiers had worked at the park in its early days. Through further research, he discovered that a few actually meant about 500.
The Yosemite Research Library photo of Buffalo Soldiers that drew Johnson’s curiosity. The story had nearly been lost. But thanks to Johnson, who portrays one of the Buffalo Soldiers as part of his work at Yosemite, the story is not only being told, he is using it to address a greater cause – getting more African Americans to visit the parks and feel that the parks are part of their heritage. He even convinced Oprah to go camping!
I felt at times that Johnson could have been speaking directly to me because much of what he said applied to my work with the G. Oliver Riggs project. I got out my notebook and wrote down some of his quotes:
• “You know the people you came from enabled you to become who you are.”
• “What happens if you don’t tell your story? Your story disappears.”
• “Stories aren’t just stories. Stories can change the world.”
• “Don’t let the people who came before you ever be forgotten.”
His talk made me think of the great stories I’ve uncovered during the past few years, including G. Oliver’s participation in the Montana Cowboy Band in the early 1900s, an experience that has a connection to another one of our wonderful national parks, Glacier.
G. Oliver is in the back row, second from right. I will never forget my delight in finding the Montana Cowboy Band photo and seeing G. Oliver’s face among the group. I am inspired to keep writing about him, his family, and his adventures in music because I don’t want him to be forgotten. I don’t know yet how I’ll change the world by telling these stories, but I am inspired to keep trying.
Buffalo Soldiers were African Americans who joined the U.S. Army after the Civil War, served in the West and fought in the Indian Wars. The story of their service in Yosemite and Sequoia had nearly been forgotten until Johnson uncovered it (for a longer explanation of this fascinating story, including why they were called Buffalo Soldiers, click on this Yosemite National Park link).
I didn’t know about Johnson or Buffalo Soldiers until a few years ago when I watched the Ken Burns documentary, The National Parks: America’s Best Idea (I did know of Bob Marley’s song, Buffalo Soldier, but didn’t know the history behind it). Johnson, who is featured in the film, wrote the book Gloryland, a fictional account of a buffalo solider who patrols Yosemite in 1903. We bought the book today for Sebastian, a history and National Park enthusiast, and I’m looking forward to reading it, too.
Shelton Johnson signs a copy of his book for Sebastian (photo by Steve). During his presentation at Carleton College, “Gloryland: Using History and Literature as Tools for Social Change,” Johnson explained how astounded he was to come across an old photo of five Buffalo Soldiers at Yosemite. When he asked about it, another employee told him there was a rumor that a few Buffalo Soldiers had worked at the park in its early days. Through further research, he discovered that a few actually meant about 500.
The Yosemite Research Library photo of Buffalo Soldiers that drew Johnson’s curiosity. The story had nearly been lost. But thanks to Johnson, who portrays one of the Buffalo Soldiers as part of his work at Yosemite, the story is not only being told, he is using it to address a greater cause – getting more African Americans to visit the parks and feel that the parks are part of their heritage. He even convinced Oprah to go camping!
I felt at times that Johnson could have been speaking directly to me because much of what he said applied to my work with the G. Oliver Riggs project. I got out my notebook and wrote down some of his quotes:
• “You know the people you came from enabled you to become who you are.”
• “What happens if you don’t tell your story? Your story disappears.”
• “Stories aren’t just stories. Stories can change the world.”
• “Don’t let the people who came before you ever be forgotten.”
His talk made me think of the great stories I’ve uncovered during the past few years, including G. Oliver’s participation in the Montana Cowboy Band in the early 1900s, an experience that has a connection to another one of our wonderful national parks, Glacier.
G. Oliver is in the back row, second from right. I will never forget my delight in finding the Montana Cowboy Band photo and seeing G. Oliver’s face among the group. I am inspired to keep writing about him, his family, and his adventures in music because I don’t want him to be forgotten. I don’t know yet how I’ll change the world by telling these stories, but I am inspired to keep trying.
Categories: Citizens
Double Feature: The Artist(ic) Descendants
The stars aligned yesterday. Or maybe it had something to do with the increased waves of solar activity we’re experiencing. Whatever the reason, Steve and I found ourselves without children or responsibilities for several hours, and we did something we haven’t done since our pre-children life together: we attended two Oscar-nominated movies in one afternoon.
We saw The Artist and The Descendants, both of which are up for Best Picture, and both of which made me think of my great-grandparents G. Oliver and Islea Riggs, for much different reasons.
The Artist is a black and white, mostly silent movie, and it’s delightful (if you go, and you should, remember that word silent – the Lakeville 21 Theatre ticket booth had signs notifying potential viewers of this fact; I suppose people have complained after watching the first few minutes, thinking something was wrong with the sound system).
The movie takes place in Hollywood in the late 1920s and early 1930s, when talking movies began, and silent movies were abandoned (here’s a link to the New York Times review).
My great-grandmother Islea used to play the organ for silent movies at the Paramount Theatre in St. Cloud, and I thought of Islea as I watched a scene in The Artist where a live orchestra accompanies the premiere of a movie featuring George Valentin (played by the wonderfully expressive French actor Jean Dujardin) at the height of his popularity.
The Artist isn’t the first movie to chronicle this period, when many silent movie actors lost their jobs because they couldn’t make the transition to talkies – think Singing in the Rain, which The Artist evokes in some ways – but I imagine many people like Islea also were affected by this change, which eliminated the need for live musicians to accompany the movies.
The Paramount, formerly the Sherman Theatre, underwent renovations in 1930 to accommodate the new “talkies.” I don’t know when the theater showed its last silent movie, or when Islea stopped playing there. I wonder how she felt about it?
Islea Graham Riggs I loved the costumes in The Artist, especially the hats. The cars were neat, too, and really helped drop me into that time period – which, in my great-grandparents’ case, meant St. Cloud, during the rising popularity of G. Oliver’s St. Cloud Municipal Boys’ Band.
Another part I loved about the movie was the dog, played by a Jack Russell named Uggie, who has his own IMDb page. The dog is Valentin’s faithful companion on and off-screen. And I couldn’t help but think of G. Oliver and Islea here, too, because they also were known for having faithful canine companions.
G. Oliver with dog Toby; the woman might be Islea, but it could also be G. Oliver’s sister Daisy. The other movie we saw, The Descendants, is completely different from The Artist – it’s in color, for one thing, it’s full of colorful language (note the ‘R’ rating) and it’s set in modern-day Hawaii. But the past plays an important role in the movie, too, which makes sense given its title. The protagonist, Matt King (played by George Clooney), can trace his island roots back several generations to indigenous and missionary ancestors.
The main plot of the story involves Clooney’s character discovering, after his wife has been seriously injured in a boating accident, that she’s been cheating on him. He tries to sort this out as he, the “back-up parent,” reconnects with his two daughters (here’s a link to the New York Times review).
A subplot of The Descendants concerns a large tract of pristine land on Kauai that King and his many cousins have inherited, and a decision they need to make regarding its sale. This part of the movie made me think of the Riggs family cabin on Grace Lake, near Bemidji. It was a sanctuary for G. Oliver for decades during his career as a band director, and my dad has memories of spending time there as a boy.
The Riggs family cabin on Grace Lake, near Bemidji. G. Oliver moved to the cabin full-time in 1944 after his forced retirement from his St. Cloud job, two years after Islea’s death. He soon came out of retirement to conduct a band at Red Lake High School (here, again, I’m reminded of The Artist, and its themes of the old being pushed out by the young, and of the possibilities of career reinvention).
When he died in January 1946, G. Oliver had been planning to sell the cabin to a neighbor who operated an adjoining resort. My grandfather Ronald and great uncle Percy (Pete) followed through with this plan.
Although it would might been nice if the property had stayed in the family – I know other families who own properties up north that have been in the family for generations – it’s also possible that it would have created family divisions, like in The Descendants – cousins arguing over its use, whether it should be sold, and if so, to whom.
A postcard from the Dean Davis resort, sent to my grandparents in 1951. I don’t know what’s become of that property, and I’m curious to find out. Louisa is attending French camp this summer in Hackensack, and when we pick her up in mid-July, we plan to take a side trip to Bemidji and see if we can find the spot where the cabin had been located.
If nothing else, the adventure could be material for a Lawler/Riggs family home movie, which, given our cast of human and canine characters, is certain not to be silent.
We saw The Artist and The Descendants, both of which are up for Best Picture, and both of which made me think of my great-grandparents G. Oliver and Islea Riggs, for much different reasons.
The Artist is a black and white, mostly silent movie, and it’s delightful (if you go, and you should, remember that word silent – the Lakeville 21 Theatre ticket booth had signs notifying potential viewers of this fact; I suppose people have complained after watching the first few minutes, thinking something was wrong with the sound system).
The movie takes place in Hollywood in the late 1920s and early 1930s, when talking movies began, and silent movies were abandoned (here’s a link to the New York Times review).
My great-grandmother Islea used to play the organ for silent movies at the Paramount Theatre in St. Cloud, and I thought of Islea as I watched a scene in The Artist where a live orchestra accompanies the premiere of a movie featuring George Valentin (played by the wonderfully expressive French actor Jean Dujardin) at the height of his popularity.
The Artist isn’t the first movie to chronicle this period, when many silent movie actors lost their jobs because they couldn’t make the transition to talkies – think Singing in the Rain, which The Artist evokes in some ways – but I imagine many people like Islea also were affected by this change, which eliminated the need for live musicians to accompany the movies.
The Paramount, formerly the Sherman Theatre, underwent renovations in 1930 to accommodate the new “talkies.” I don’t know when the theater showed its last silent movie, or when Islea stopped playing there. I wonder how she felt about it?
Islea Graham Riggs I loved the costumes in The Artist, especially the hats. The cars were neat, too, and really helped drop me into that time period – which, in my great-grandparents’ case, meant St. Cloud, during the rising popularity of G. Oliver’s St. Cloud Municipal Boys’ Band.
Another part I loved about the movie was the dog, played by a Jack Russell named Uggie, who has his own IMDb page. The dog is Valentin’s faithful companion on and off-screen. And I couldn’t help but think of G. Oliver and Islea here, too, because they also were known for having faithful canine companions.
G. Oliver with dog Toby; the woman might be Islea, but it could also be G. Oliver’s sister Daisy. The other movie we saw, The Descendants, is completely different from The Artist – it’s in color, for one thing, it’s full of colorful language (note the ‘R’ rating) and it’s set in modern-day Hawaii. But the past plays an important role in the movie, too, which makes sense given its title. The protagonist, Matt King (played by George Clooney), can trace his island roots back several generations to indigenous and missionary ancestors.
The main plot of the story involves Clooney’s character discovering, after his wife has been seriously injured in a boating accident, that she’s been cheating on him. He tries to sort this out as he, the “back-up parent,” reconnects with his two daughters (here’s a link to the New York Times review).
A subplot of The Descendants concerns a large tract of pristine land on Kauai that King and his many cousins have inherited, and a decision they need to make regarding its sale. This part of the movie made me think of the Riggs family cabin on Grace Lake, near Bemidji. It was a sanctuary for G. Oliver for decades during his career as a band director, and my dad has memories of spending time there as a boy.
The Riggs family cabin on Grace Lake, near Bemidji. G. Oliver moved to the cabin full-time in 1944 after his forced retirement from his St. Cloud job, two years after Islea’s death. He soon came out of retirement to conduct a band at Red Lake High School (here, again, I’m reminded of The Artist, and its themes of the old being pushed out by the young, and of the possibilities of career reinvention).
When he died in January 1946, G. Oliver had been planning to sell the cabin to a neighbor who operated an adjoining resort. My grandfather Ronald and great uncle Percy (Pete) followed through with this plan.
Although it would might been nice if the property had stayed in the family – I know other families who own properties up north that have been in the family for generations – it’s also possible that it would have created family divisions, like in The Descendants – cousins arguing over its use, whether it should be sold, and if so, to whom.
A postcard from the Dean Davis resort, sent to my grandparents in 1951. I don’t know what’s become of that property, and I’m curious to find out. Louisa is attending French camp this summer in Hackensack, and when we pick her up in mid-July, we plan to take a side trip to Bemidji and see if we can find the spot where the cabin had been located.
If nothing else, the adventure could be material for a Lawler/Riggs family home movie, which, given our cast of human and canine characters, is certain not to be silent.
Categories: Citizens
A Modern Family Vaudeville Show
We are still basking in the glow of yesterday’s big event – an evening spent with talented friends, making music together in celebration of my two-year anniversary of blogging. Yes, My Musical Family is two years old, and what better way to acknowledge the milestone than with a recital, right in our very own living room!
G. Oliver Riggs makes his appearance, aided by his great-great grandson Elias. The Boxrud/Bratland and Mibus families were kind enough to take me up on the invitation and participate in the event, which included solos, some group pieces, poetry recitations and a demonstration speech on how to make a clothespin catapult that flings pennies (thanks Ryan!).
Here’s a video of my introduction to the event, followed by the first performer, Elias, on piano.
This Norwegian schottische by Amy, Doug, Synneva and Halvor added some international flair to the evening:
As did the Steve and Sebastian duet, “Back in the USSR.”
When we weren’t performing or listening, we were eating – the menu included two kinds of chili (beef and vegetarian), salad with roasted pears, and soda bread. For dessert, we had ice cream sundaes and French macarons.
My friend Myrna made the macarons; she’s become quite the macaron maven over the last several months (she also plays the mandolin, which makes me think there’s a children’s book amid all the alliteration). Here’s a link to one of her recent blog posts, Macarons – A Visual Treat!. She made a special flavor just for the occasion, black licorice, which she cleverly arranged to look like music notes on a staff.
Myrna’s macarons – mmmmmmm! We all had such a good time, I hope we can do it again soon. But not too soon – I need a little time to work up a new piece, and my courage.
G. Oliver Riggs makes his appearance, aided by his great-great grandson Elias. The Boxrud/Bratland and Mibus families were kind enough to take me up on the invitation and participate in the event, which included solos, some group pieces, poetry recitations and a demonstration speech on how to make a clothespin catapult that flings pennies (thanks Ryan!).
Here’s a video of my introduction to the event, followed by the first performer, Elias, on piano.
This Norwegian schottische by Amy, Doug, Synneva and Halvor added some international flair to the evening:
As did the Steve and Sebastian duet, “Back in the USSR.”
When we weren’t performing or listening, we were eating – the menu included two kinds of chili (beef and vegetarian), salad with roasted pears, and soda bread. For dessert, we had ice cream sundaes and French macarons.
My friend Myrna made the macarons; she’s become quite the macaron maven over the last several months (she also plays the mandolin, which makes me think there’s a children’s book amid all the alliteration). Here’s a link to one of her recent blog posts, Macarons – A Visual Treat!. She made a special flavor just for the occasion, black licorice, which she cleverly arranged to look like music notes on a staff.
Myrna’s macarons – mmmmmmm! We all had such a good time, I hope we can do it again soon. But not too soon – I need a little time to work up a new piece, and my courage.
Categories: Citizens
Recital Preparations and Palpitations
Instead of blogging, I should be practicing an instrument right now, to prepare for this weekend’s My Musical Family recital.
We are having two families over on Sunday and have invited everyone – adults and kids alike – to perform a piece on an instrument, to sing a song, or to read a poem, essay or speech. I concocted the plan several months ago when I was trying to think of ways to keep Elias interested in playing the piano (his teacher no longer organizes recitals, like he did when Louisa took lessons from him).
I also was inspired by reading newspaper accounts of my great-grandfather’s experiences playing the violin at house parties at the turn of the last century, like this one that took place before my great-grandparents were married:
Miss Islea Graham gave a party and musical entertainment at the home of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. W.N. Graham, last evening. It was one of the finest affairs of the kind ever in the city. The musical program was of exceptional merit and was a real treat to lovers of fine music. Miss Florence B. Wright of Burlington and Prof. G. O. Riggs of Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, the eminent violinist, contributed to the enjoyment of the evening. There was a large attendance of Aledo’s most fashionable people.
Our event will be much more low-key, with an emphasis on fun and good food, and not fashion. But I have no doubt that it will be a real treat for all in attendance.
I am planning to play a piece on the piano. If I chicken out, I may instead read this poem (author not known) that was in my grandfather Ronald’s files. It must have been important to someone, because at the bottom it includes the instruction: Please keep.
(You don’t have to tell that twice to anyone in this family of pack rats).
The Young Bandman
It was a cold and dreary day,
The bandmen in the park did play
The people listened with their ears
And when ’twas done they gave three cheers.
One boy, a strong and manly youth,
His clarinet did play,
A boy who always spoke the truth
And made them clap their hands, hurray!
He stood up slim, and strait (sic) and tall,
And blew his clarinet to all,
Till people, wondering, would hear
The sounds that came with murmuring fear.
We are having two families over on Sunday and have invited everyone – adults and kids alike – to perform a piece on an instrument, to sing a song, or to read a poem, essay or speech. I concocted the plan several months ago when I was trying to think of ways to keep Elias interested in playing the piano (his teacher no longer organizes recitals, like he did when Louisa took lessons from him).
I also was inspired by reading newspaper accounts of my great-grandfather’s experiences playing the violin at house parties at the turn of the last century, like this one that took place before my great-grandparents were married:
Miss Islea Graham gave a party and musical entertainment at the home of her parents, Mr. and Mrs. W.N. Graham, last evening. It was one of the finest affairs of the kind ever in the city. The musical program was of exceptional merit and was a real treat to lovers of fine music. Miss Florence B. Wright of Burlington and Prof. G. O. Riggs of Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, the eminent violinist, contributed to the enjoyment of the evening. There was a large attendance of Aledo’s most fashionable people.
Our event will be much more low-key, with an emphasis on fun and good food, and not fashion. But I have no doubt that it will be a real treat for all in attendance.
I am planning to play a piece on the piano. If I chicken out, I may instead read this poem (author not known) that was in my grandfather Ronald’s files. It must have been important to someone, because at the bottom it includes the instruction: Please keep.
(You don’t have to tell that twice to anyone in this family of pack rats).
The Young Bandman
It was a cold and dreary day,
The bandmen in the park did play
The people listened with their ears
And when ’twas done they gave three cheers.
One boy, a strong and manly youth,
His clarinet did play,
A boy who always spoke the truth
And made them clap their hands, hurray!
He stood up slim, and strait (sic) and tall,
And blew his clarinet to all,
Till people, wondering, would hear
The sounds that came with murmuring fear.
Categories: Citizens
