When the auctioneer pulled the instrument from its perch in the corner, a single image seemed to come to mind for all of us auction-goers: A street musician on a corner playing his heart out on a one-piece instrument like this.
Several of us instantly called it a one-man band, and that it was. It was as trim as a model, with a wooden staff attached to cymbals ringed by jingle bells at the top; a cow bell, wooden block and more bells in the middle; a tambourine with a painted image of a Native American chief near the bottom; a wire that stretched along its height and finally a spring attachment at the end.
The handle was a Miller beer tap, likely retrieved from some neighborhood bar. The instrument looked to be handmade.
“Looks like something out of New Orleans,” one auction-goer said later, as he and others both admired it and were intrigued by it.
There were only two bidders for the instrument, because most were probably not sure what to do with it. It sold for 30 bucks, and the buyer figured that the tap alone was worth the price.
I wondered how you could make good music with an instrument whose mechanical parts all seemed the same. When I tried it out – bouncing it against the floor and listening to the bells jingle – I heard discordant sounds but no music. In the right hands, I’m sure this baby could sing.
That would include the country, bluegrass, polka, blues and rock bands that use this instrument, which I learned was called a Stumpf (or stump) fiddle or pogo cello. Several sites noted that these folk instruments were especially popular in the Midwest.
The retail site partyfiddle.com explained how theirs (which sell for $225) worked:
It is “played by bouncing it on the floor to keep the beat as the bells jingle, pans rattle and springs vibrate in rhythm. The key to a good quality sound is to play melody by striking the pans, springs, woodblock or bell during the lifting motion after striking the floor. Combinations of sounds can be achieved by stroking the wood block or springs, tapping or snapping the springs, and so on.”
History has brought us an array of one-man band performers from many locations and cultures in this country. One of the more interesting ones I came across on the web was a blues singer named Johnny “Daddy Stovepipe” Watson. In the 1920s, he became a fixture on Maxwell Street in Chicago – a famous gathering place for street musicians and the birthplace of Chicago Blues – playing his harmonica and guitar. In the 1930s, Watson recorded with his wife Mississippi Sarah.
Maxwell Street was one of the best places to hear sidewalk music, according to one site, and continued to be until its buildings were demolished in the early 2000s.
The buyer of the instrument at auction seemed to have paid the right price for it. At another auction a year ago, a similar instrument called the Jitterbug sold for $40.
