From Deseret News archives:
Mormon Tabernacle Choir celebrates 100 years of memorable recordings
Thomas Edison invented the phonograph in 1877. The world would never sound the same.
Not that those early devices made it easy. But, there was, and is still, something quite magical about the fact that anything as vibrant as sound could be captured by wax, and later vinyl, magnetic tape or plastic, in a way that those same sounds can be heard again, even miles and miles away and years and years later.
We take it for granted now, but 100 years ago, the recording process was still in its infancy, especially when it came to recording music. Among those involved in early pioneering efforts, however, was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.
Edison's recording machine included a large acoustic horn that channeled sound waves through an inscribing needle onto a soft-wax cylinder. The process had its limitations, requiring a very loud, very close source of sound, which in music meant solo voices or small musical groups. It did not work well for large choruses or symphony orchestras.
At the turn of the century, three record companies had emerged: Columbia, Victor and Edison. All were looking for that next breakthrough: a way to bring music from large groups to the masses.
So, it was with that in mind that the New York-based Columbia Phonographic Co. decided to send an engineer and a recording machine to Salt Lake City to attempt to record the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, which had gained national attention through an appearance at the Chicago World's Fair in 1893, among other things.
Before they could even attempt it, however, the company had to construct a recording machine lighter than the 500-pound one it was then using.
The new machine and the recording engineer arrived in Salt Lake City by train in August 1910. The pessimistic Columbia engineer started with a test recording of the organ. It seemed to work. Still, an organ was one thing; a 300-voice choir was quite another. So, the next test began.
First, the engineer had to decide where to place the two 5-foot-long acoustic horns, which would gather in the sound. They were eventually suspended from a rope stretched across the Tabernacle, with one horn pointing to the sopranos and altos and the other to the tenors and basses. Choir members huddled as tightly as possible — the women had to remove their hats — as they began to sing.
To everyone's surprise, the experiment worked. With cautious optimism on the part of the Columbia executive, and joy and elation on the part of the singers and their director, Evan Stephens, the choir went on to record 13 tracks.
















