At 7pm on Valentine’s Day
February 14th 1922, Britain’s first scheduled radio station 2MT
first went on the air broadcasting every Tuesday night from the small Essex
town of Writtle. The station was the experimenter arm of the Marconi Company in
wireless telephony with Captain Peter Eckersley in charge. Each night the
station would go on air at 7pm with Marconi’s publicity man in London Arthur
Burrows despatching gramophone records to be played and artistes to perform
live.
The Government required
that the station turn off it’s transmitter for 3 minutes after every seven
minutes in case the authorities made contact to close down. Eckersley arrived
at the station in March and reduced a number of the formalities that restricted
2MT’s broadcasts. This often occurred after the staff had visited the nearby
pub The Cock & Bull and imbibed themselves with numerous gin and tonics.
The station begins to gain traction with even reports of members of parliament
rushing from the House of Commons at 7pm to tune in their new devices, the
wireless to 2MT.
It was in the midst of this
growing success that the first Irish artist appeared on the radio, or the
wireless for the purposes of listening-in as it was known as at the time. At
7pm on May 16th 1922 Captain Eckersley introduced the artist of the
night, Isolde O’Farrell. O’Farrell had been sent from London, where she had
been making a name for herself on the stages in the capital. She was a familiar
sight at Irish music events especially on St. Patrick’s Day and was a darling
of the Gaelic League in London. In 1920, she had sung ‘The Soldier’s Song’
which would later become the Irish national anthem, receiving a tremendous reception
to her performance.
The Westminster Gazette
reported,
The
Marconi Company transmitted a radio-concert from Writtle, Essex, on Tuesday
evening, and although a small transmitter was used, with an emergency aerial,
excellent results were obtained. Miss Isolde O'Farrell, the dramatic soprano,
sang a number of songs, including Softly awakes my heart " from "Sansom
and Delilah." these were heard as clear as a bell at Marconi House. 'the
concert was transmitted on a wavelength of 700 metres, which is in close
proximity to the 600 metres used commercially. Many amateurs, nevertheless,
reported good reception.
The Bio reported,
‘THE
VOICE WHICH WAS HEARD AT A DISTANCE OF SEVENTY MILES. " Hello CQ. Hello CQ[1]. 2.M.T Calling!" 3
Was that it? That is what it sounded like to me, at any rate. I had the
ear-pieces on and by means of the radio-telephony system was prepared to listen
to a concert being given by Miss Isolde O'Farrell, sixty to seventy miles away,
at Writtle. My hopes of hearing the concert were realised or at least a portion
of it. Miss O'Farrell sang "Softly Awakes My Heart," the famous aria
from " Samson and Delilah”, " The Maori Song" by Alfred Hall,
" Life's Roadway" by Emmett Adams (accompanied by the composer); and
Hermann Lohr's " The Little Irish Girl." The latter was a rich and
rare treat. Words and accent, the notes of the piano, could be heard by myself
and all around, and it was a curious experience to listen to this delightful
song being sung, say, seventy miles away. With the generous permission of the
Post Office, the Marconi Company broadcast this concert, and thanks to the fact
that there was an instrument in Chesham, myself and others were able to enjoy
the concert. So much for the actual concert. We were the guests (on Tuesday) of
Mr. Leonard J. Swan, of Bellingdon-Road, son of Mr. R. J. J. Swan, and were having
the benefit of his receiver and thus listening to the concert which Marconi
were broadcasting upon a wavelength of 700 metres. Each selection was prefaced
by the " Hello " and the mystic words, meaning that Marconi were
calling, and the voice of the caller was as clear as a bell. Much of the music
was very clear, now and again it was rather spoilt, and this I was given to
understand was caused by some other station on the same wave-length jamming.
Between each selection there was a two minute interval, and we were advised by
the voice seventy miles away to " Stand by "not that it took two
minutes to get the next song ready, but it gave other stations a chance of
sending out messages. At first sight this radio telephony set looked a very
plain wooden-box apparatus—about a foot square, with ebonised front. But
inspecting it more closely one found about eight handles. These are part of the
adjusting apparatus by these handles " the instrument is so adjusted as to
pick up the signal. Four " lamps " inside the box (lamps to the
uninitiated) are really valves by which the signals are detected and magnified
and coils and condensers are so utilised that they " tune " the set
to the required wavelength. By this ingenious box of tricks, which I hope I
have not misdescribed, and a very innocent looking wire suspended outside, Mr.
Swan picks up the Marconi and other messages. He has picked up messages from
stations as far off as New York, Italy, Moscow, France, and Holland and recent
experiences were to receive the news of the boat race and the Lewis-Carpentier
fight within a few minutes of the close of each event. This apparatus was made
by Mr. Swan himself and is the result of improvements upon four sets he has
made since he started the " work " purely as a hobby. In conversation
with Mr. Swan I gathered that some of the people who think that they can instal
a wireless set and " listen in " in the same way that they can put a
record on a gramophone, turn the handle, and listen to the music, are in for a
disappointment Mr. Swan did not state this in so many words, but that was my
impression. A " cheap' set (that is cheap and nasty) may let them down,
and a beginner with what is known as a four-valve set might get confused and
make a general mess of things. But Marconi’s come to the rescue. They have made
apparatus on the unit system, and by this means the beginner can start on one
valve and add as many as he pleases afterwards. Marconi and such like
corporations are evidently laying themselves out to help the beginner and to
popularise " radio.' Hence the concert referred to. I have heard "
The Little Irish Girl " many times, but it was a unique experience to
stand at a quiet and beautiful spot in quiet Chesham and hear it sung seventy
miles away. Thank you, Mr. Swan.’
Isolde O’Farrell
immediately began to cash in on her success over the airwaves as the Pall Mall
Gazette (May 22nd 1922) reported the following week,
‘Miss
Isolde O’Farrell, the Queens and Albert Hall dramatic Soprano, whose songs were
successfully radiated on 600-metre wavelength from the Marconi station at
Writtle Essex last Tuesday, will appear at the Kingsway Theatre today and on
Wednesday, Thursday and Friday afternoons.’
O’Farrell’s historic
broadcast was followed by another piece of history and the first radio appeal
that would find its way one day to Children in Need on the BBC. According to
the newspaper reports,
‘A
Wireless Appeal for the Listeners-in of the periodical concert conducted on
Tuesday Marconi's transmission station Writtle were delighted to hear what must
have been novel appeal. Hundreds of amateurs within a radius of metres enjoy
the musical programme, which this occasion was preceded by beautifully worded
address by Mrs. Stanley Lupino, the wife the famous comedian, behalf of the
Children's Fresh-Air Fund.
Mrs. Lupino was the wife
of the famous vaudeville and film star of the day Stanley Lupino. She was Anglo
Irish and a performer in her own right known on stage as Connie Emerald. She
was born Constance Gladys O’Shea to Irish parents and the couple were parents
to the Hollywood star Ida Lupino.
In the days prior to
internet searches many artistes embellished their background stories to make
themselves more appealing to both the public and producers. There was also a tendency
for artists who would agree to appear on the new medium of radio to use pseudonyms
to avoid issues with their gramophone record labels who initially felt that radio
would be a disaster for the business of selling records and music sheets. The
newspapers reported that O’Farrell was from Dublin, a former Irish hockey
international and sung as a Soprano. She attended the Florence Etolinger School
in London and appeared in many of the school’s amateur productions including ‘Calling
Herrin’. Some show organisers deemed her to be a contralto. In March 1922 just
months before her appearance on the ether, she had made headlines when she
performed at the Queens Hall Theatre the ‘Mystery Waltz Song’ by Emmet Adams
which was described in the ‘Daily Mirror’ as ‘one of the most beautiful Viennese
waltz songs ever written’.
However, to add a little
mystery of its own to this story, the following appeared in the newspapers in
1924 indicating that O’Farrell may in fact be a Tipperary born singer named
Oonah Mairs. The search goes on.
[1] CQ
was used as an invitation to listeners to tune in especially from abroad.
