Stan Ricker: Live and Unplugged
True Confessions of a Musical & Mastering Maven
Dave: Yeah, I've heard very phenomenal 78 reproduction
recently. I was at Clark Johnsen's Listening Studio in late November
and he played some 78's that really opened my ears. But this speaker
you were talking about is the one for which your mother sewed a special
surround.
Stan: Yeah, yeah. See, I had been reading all
those little books that G.A. Briggs of Wharefdale Wireless Works had written
in England. He talked about loudspeakers with cloth surrounds and
things like this and I had been out working a couple of summers mowing grass
at fifty cents per yard. I mean, not per yard as in, thirty-six
inches, but per yard as in, three quarters of an acre per plot of one family
housing! And you do that for fifty cents. Anyway, I saved up my
money. I had like a hundred and some odd bucks, and I bought this
Jensen H510. It was Jensen's answer to the Altec 604 co-ax. And
I was astounded to find that, here was a fifteen inch loudspeaker, the cone
resonance was seventy-two cycles, which was exactly the same frequency as
the D string on my bass. I mean, one string above that is G, which is
ninety-six. And then below the D is A, which is fifty-five, and E
which is forty-one, and this loudspeaker couldn't even reproduce those notes
below its resonance. So, I thought, well, what's to do but lower the
resonance. So I separated the cardboard gasket from the frame.
But first I took a twelve inch record and I laid it on this fifteen inch
loudspeaker and I found that after you got past the corrugations of the
surround, that actual cone of a fifteen inch loudspeaker is twelve inches.
Then I took a razor blade, I centered the record and just cut all the way
around it, then separated the gasket, used some of my mom's finger nail
polish to soften the glue and get the rest of that surround out of there.
Because in those days I don't even know if MEK had been invented. You
couldn't go out and buy the damn stuff, that's for sure.
Dave: And MEK is...
Stan: Methyl Ethyl Ketone. I don't know when it
came into being but I'd never heard of it as a kid so all I had access to
was my mother's finger-nail polish remover. Which is quite stout
stuff, almost pure acetone. So, anyway, I was reading Mr. Briggs'
dissertations on loudspeakers and excursions and cloth surrounds and all
this, so the first cloth surround I made was just cut out of a bed sheet,
fifteen inches outer diameter, eleven inches inside diameter, which gave me
half of an inch overlap onto the cone. I just glued it on there and as
long as you just had small excursions the performance was okay. But as
soon as you got an excursion where the surround ran out of cloth, ran out of
compliance, it just stopped, stone hard, and it turned into the best third
harmonic generator I've ever heard. (Laughs) All the low organ
stuff began to sound like there was a huge sixteen foot pedal reed attached
to everything when I turned it up loud. And then I realized what was
happening and I showed my mom how this is happening. How we can make
it more resilient and not stop so hard and she said, "If we cut the
cloth on a bias we can avoid that problem." So she said,
"You can't cut a continuous ring. We have to cut separate pie
shaped pieces of cloth." So we used some scotch plaid and cut a
bunch of pieces, kinda pie shaped, and then glued 'em around the outside
edge of the frame and overlapped them onto the cone, and glued them to the
cone first and then sewed all the overlapping edges together. And that
thing still exists, as you saw.
Dave: Yeah, I'm quite impressed that you still have
that. It shows real parental support, which is really, really
important to developing a life long love of a field.
Stan: Yeah, Mom supported me in a lot of things like
that. I'm eternally grateful to her and she's still very much with us.
She lives in Zellwood, Florida which is a little bit north of Orlando.
She loves to play golf. She was born in 1913 so that means she's about
eighty-four. Her birthday is in July. Pretty smart old lady.
But that concept of cuttin' the cloth on the bias- she loved to make
clothes and she made almost all her own clothes and she made most of my
sister's clothes as well. It was a way for her to be creative as well
as to save money during the war years and so forth. She just continued
with it for many years thereafter.
Dave: You had some really meaningful listening
experiences during this time, too. For instance, hearing Fritz Reiner
and the Chicago Symphony and Heifetz and Piatagorsky.
Stan: Yeah, Gregor
Piatagorsky came to Highland Park High School and played for us in those
Community Concerts things. And I was especially taken with one number
he played. He says he's gonna do this a la Andre Segovia,
and he picked the cello up and set it across his lap like a big guitar, and
proceeded to play the most delightful old finger picking pizzicato Bach on
it, you know.
Dave: That's phenomenal. That must have been a
real joy to see.
Stan: Oh and to hear, yeah, yeah. And we had the
Washington, D.C., Navy Band come to Highland Park High School. And
we'd had the Cleveland Symphony come to the high school and these concerts.
I found out at Highland Park High School that if you wanted to get some
really good low end you went up in the balcony and sat all the way in the
back. That's when I found out what a bass drum was all about.
Those big suspended drums. You've seen those bass hoops and the drums
are suspended by calf skin thongs because with a bass drum, when you hit the
bass drum head, the two heads move in phase, side to side, the air mass
inside goes side to side, with the heads. It is only contained by the
elasticity, tension and mass of the heads. Now, in order for this to
be a system in equilibrium, when the heads and the air go one way, the shell
has to go the other way. And that's why you always have this bass drum
suspended from the hoop. As soon as you put the bass drum on a stand
or set it on the floor, when you prohibit the shell from moving counter to
the air mass and the head, you kill the whole sound of the instrument.
It just totally wipes it out. And you'd be surprised how many
percussionists don't understand this. A lot of recording people don't
understand it. Jack Renner and Bob Woods understood it real well when
we were doing some early Telarc stuff. I remember when we were first
doing the Cincinnati Symphony's 1812 Overture.
Dave: Ah, the famous cannon shots.
Stan: The famous, well not only cannon shots, but it's
got some hellacious bass drum whacks in it, too. We were having
trouble with the bass drummer in the orchestra. He happened to be the
percussion section crew chief and we'd get the drum tuned the way we wanted
it. It had to be in the back center of the hall so you hit on the back
head and the sound emanates from the forward head and goes out and hits all
three microphones in phase, which means lateral modulation on the disk,
which is what you want, not vertical. And we'd get it set up about
right and we'd go back to the recording booth and we'd look at it on the
oscilloscope and it would be all skewed. We'd go back out there and
the guy woulda turned the damn thing, you know. And finally Jack and I
went out there and Jack said, "Listen, dammit, we're payin' for this.
You do it our way." And the percussionist said, "Well, we
never had to do this for Vanguard Records." And Jack and I both
said, about the same voice, "Well, that's probably why you never sold
very many f****** records through them, did ya?" (Laughs)
Ya know, I mean you cannot fool Mother Nature. You have to do these
things according to the laws of physics!
Dave: So, what were your impressions of Reiner and
Chicago? How old were you when you first heard that?
Stan: Well, hell, I was at least a freshman in high
school, so I had to have been fourteen. Oh, I just thought that was,
oh I mean, everyone was, "Oh, God, we're gonna go hear Fritz Reiner.
Oh man, is he good." I mean he was everything he was cracked up
to be, plus tax. I remember one of the things he played, "Finlandia."
All this stuff and oh, the cymbals and the bass drum were so together and,
you know, everybody else was doin' their thing really well, but I'm watching
the bass fiddle section, I think at that time the orchestra had either ten
or twelve basses. And almost all of 'em had low C extensions on 'em.
I used to go around to all these different bass sections and look in these
bass sections and see how many of 'em had low C extensions. And almost
all of 'em did. And if you look at the individual basses in an
orchestra today, in fact, it's hard to get a job with a standard four string
bass, in a symphony any more. You have to have either a low C
extension or you have to have a fifth string, like that bass I have at home.
Cause otherwise there's just a lotta stuff written down there you can't get
with the standard 4-string bass. You can't get your thirty-two cycle
low C. You lose C, C sharp, D, and D sharp, which is most commonly
called E flat, which is the most glorious key ever invented. The
strings sound so good in E flat, and the woodwinds and the brass love it,
too.
Dave: You also paid a lot of visits to Allied Radio
when you were in Illinois.
Stan: Yeah, yeah. Every Saturday for a number of
years, from Highland Park I used to have to ride the Chicago &
Northwestern train down to Chicago to go visit the dentist, Dr. McKay.
And he was attempting to put some corrective dentures on my crooked teeth,
and as everybody can see nowadays, or has been able to see forever, he was a
kindly man, but he wasn't very effective. So I'd ride the 8:10 train
down to Chicago and my appointment with Doc McKay wasn't until about ten
o'clock. I mean this was a Saturday, mind you. Who in their
right mind wanted to go to work on Saturday, anyway? He was gracious
enough to come in. However it was that my dad was able to talk him
into doing this, I don't know. I had hours to kill every Saturday so
as I would walk to my destination I went by 833 West Jackson Boulevard and
that's where Allied Radio was. And they were in the back of a shoe
store at that time. That's where I first heard an Electrovoice
Aristocrat corner horn enclosure, licensed from Paul Klipsch. The
first time I heard thirty-two cycles, low C, right out there in the open
[other than in my own room]. I was real excited by all that.
Also, that's the first place I actually physically saw an Altec 604.
So see, that had to have been around 1952 or '53, because I was doing so
poorly in Highland Park High school, it was '52, and after my junior year my
folks took me out of Highland Park High School and they sent me to a
boarding school in the state of Maine called Hebron Academy. Of
course, over in Israel they call it "Hebron" (short e) and we hear
about on the news all the time. But in Maine they call it Hebron (long
e). And one of the reasons they were happy to send me there was
because Hebron had absolutely no music culture at all. Nothing
whatsoever to do with music, and I knew I really had to get my grades up.
So I repeated my junior year. I went to Hebron junior and senior year
[1953-54] but I promptly started a Hebron Pep Band. (Laughs)
Dave: I don't think that's what they had in mind.
Stan: That wasn't what they had in mind, but it worked
out well because it was directed by Mr. Philip Stackpole, who was my Algebra
and Geometry instructor. Mr. Stackpole was a marvellous pianist; the
academy had a Steinway D and Phil knew well how to use it. He was a music
nut, and he was just looking for an excuse to do this band thing, so when
someone got enthusiastic about it, he went with it. And then there was
a record club. And I wound up being president of the record club.
Dave: That sounds very dangerous.
Stan: Yes. Especially when Mom and Dad weren't
too happy when they found out I was doing all this musical shit, at a
supposedly nonmusical secondary school. But anyway, I got my grades up
to the point where I was accepted at four universities and then was faced
with the dilemma that I didn't really know what I wanted to study. It
was one of those typical college days when all of the colleges send
representatives to the high school campus, "Hope you'll consider goin'
to our college," and so forth and so on. College Career Days, or
somethin' like that. So anyway, I just filled out a bunch of damn
paperwork and sent it in and I got accepted to Purdue, the University of
Colorado, Dartmouth, and Eastman School of Music. (Laughs) And I
didn't know what the hell I wanted to do. And so the biggest thing was
none of this was on anything what you call a scholarship. It was on
one of those, "Yeah, I'll go to school," and we'll accept your
money. So, I knew already that Mom and Dad had really been bitin' the
bullet just to send me to Hebron. They were also sending my sister to
the University of Colorado at the same time. And I thought, "Oh
God, if I go to one of these schools and screw up, boy is Dad gonna be
pissed." I remember that was my exact viewpoint, exact words on
it. So I elected not to go to college, but to enlist in the Navy.
Those were the years where you had no choice after you got outta high
school, you either went to college, or you were gonna be service bound, one
way or the other. You know, go register for the draft and things like
this.
Dave: Right. The draft is etched in my memory.
Stan: Yes, yes. It's been around quite a while.
Frankly, I think it would do the country a helluva lot a good if they
instituted that again. We wouldn't have so many people with absolutely
no idea what they're gonna do, or no goals. Even if the goal is just
to cover your own ass for a few years... In spite of that, there's
still folks like me who haven't figured out what we're gonna do when we grow
up.
Dave: Yeah, well, most of those people are doing what
they really love.
Stan the Barnacle-Encrusted Musician
"It's only me, I'm home from the sea, says Barnacle Bill, the
sailor." [A typical Rickerism... is this how Stan became so salty
and crusty?]
Dave: Tell us about your experience in the Navy, Stan.
Stan: When I graduated from high school I auditioned
for the Navy Music Program and was accepted. So I went to the Navy
Music School in Washington, D.C., and that was the first time I ever had any
really formal music education at all [1954-1955]. And I had very good
musical instructors. Almost all the instructors I had at the Navy
Music School were Eastman graduates. Really fine.
I remember being absolutely surprised at having an Army
PFC, whose name
was Richard Kneiter, who was a graduate of Eastman School of Music, and boy
did he know his theory. He made it so vividly clear to me that I
remember saying, "Now I understand why a G7 chord goes to C[or
sometimes A minor]!”. Because I had just learned that these things
were so [by ear], but didn't know anything about the voice leading or the
mechanics of good writing which are guided by good hearing, what one expects
to hear from one chord sequence to the other, and what are the rules
regarding that. So I was very excited to finally have all my many
scattered-around bits and pieces of music-info finally put in a structured,
organizational context where I could really begin to understand it. It
took me years to understand that music really is a language. You learn
music by imitation and it's only later you learn how to read it and how to
write it. But you learn how to speak it first and so I was finally
getting to the point where I could read music that way and make harmonic
sense out of it. For me that was a great awakening.
My main duties in the Navy [1954-58] were to play tuba and a string bass
and bass drum in marching bands, whether we were aboard ship - we didn't do
much marching aboard ship, but when I was stationed in the New York Navy
Band we played at least one parade up or down Fifth Avenue every week.
They were usually five mile parades. So I got lots of practice in
being involved with live, loud music. Record players and loudspeakers
sounded pretty dismal and lacking, compared to the real thing, and today
they still do sound pretty second rate compared to the real thing.
Aboard the battleship New Jersey, I was in what's known as
the Comm Sixth Fleet Band. And I was stationed on the French Riviera
for a while, with a very good Navy band and that was a good experience, in
and of itself. I was playing a lot of dance band stuff and concert
band and parades. And I played bass drum on those parades 'cause the
tuba that I was issued was a nice tuba for a Sousaphone, but the mouthpiece
had some of the plating off of it and under the plating is brass and I got
brass poisoning on my upper lip. So I couldn't play the tuba for about
my last fifteen months in the service. So for dance band stuff I, of
course, continued to play my string bass. In the parades I played bass
drum, and I really enjoyed it. Really, really enjoyed it.
There's a real art in playing one of those things so that in tuning it
right, and damping the heads right so that when you hit it with a hard
beater, you get a real smack, or a crack.
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