I covet an afternoon at the antique mall. There’s always an ongoing list in my mind of a million things I hope to find. These visits feel different than the usual thrift stores, though. They are less about searching for something specific and more about uncovering objects for our home, or methodic ways to unlock visual inspiration.
Not too long ago, Miles and I dipped into Modern Antiquarium and Antique Harvest in Healdsburg for a wander. We seem to move through antique malls with an unspoken rhythm. We begin together, then drift apart, each pulled by our own curiosities.
That was exactly how I lost him.
I had just found something and wanted his yay or nay, but he had vanished. I circled booth after booth, no sign of him. Then, passing around once more, I spotted him as he uncovered a stack of history.
We love old sheet music for its incredible typefaces, thoughtful layouts, and expressive imagery. I knew instantly he was studying it for design inspiration and drawn into those endless, musty papers. He was pulling pieces in the very palette that has become Emerald Era’s signature: blush, mauve, soft green. And then, as it always does, my musical mind wandered as I joined in.
Later that evening I reflected on the history of Tin Pan Alley, that stretch of West 28th Street between Sixth Avenue and Broadway where my undergraduate music history professors lingered on only for a moment. I began to imagine it again, musicians ready at the downbeat to perform the latest tune fresh off the press. The air must have been alive with sound, pianos ringing out from open windows, melodies colliding in the street below. And the name itself, Tin Pan Alley.
“So named to describe the audible racket of piano music that made 28th Street sound like a tin pan alley.”
Sheet music at the time was the immediate connection between composer and listener. I imagine it was the download of its day. For 10 to 20 cents, you could bring a song home, sit at the piano or strum the popular instrument of the time, the ukulele, and make it your own. Parlour music became a form of show and tell and something new to share with family and friends.
It was also, in its own way, a kind of advertisement. The sheet music songs that we discovered carried emotion, influence, and desire. Lyrics moved quickly, catching hold and shaping what people wanted to hear and be part of.
So much of the music we know today traces back to this moment. The late 1800s into the early 1900s marked a shift in how music was shared and experienced. It was also a space where Black and Jewish artists began to establish a foothold in publishing. Composers like Duke Ellington, Noble Sissle, Cole Porter, and George Gershwin helped carry ragtime, jazz, and musicals across the country. And songs like “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” and “Let Me Call You Sweetheart” first drifted out through the windows of these publishing houses.
Among women, Dorothy Fields wrote over 400 songs, including my favorite “I Can’t Give You Anything but Love” and “On the Sunny Side of the Street,” often collaborating with Jerome Kern. And María Grever, the first woman from Mexico to gain international recognition as a composer, gave the world “What a Difference a Day Makes,” which was later popularized by Dinah Washington.
So back to that stack of sheet music we carried home. I found myself completely taken with the stories behind the publishers.
Ramona
“You Can’t Go Wrong With Any Feist Song.”
Now that’s a hook! Leo Feist, founder of Leo Feist Inc., began as a corset salesman. Songwriting was simply a hobby to him. His love of music grew into one of the largest publishing companies of its time, with hits like “My Blue Heaven.” To this day my favorite cover of this tune is Billy Corgan’s rendition.
I gasped when I found “Ramona” in the bin, dated 1928, with Mexican actress Dolores del Río on the cover. She has long been one of my style icons, a luminous presence from the silent film era.
Masquerade
Did I judge this one by its cover? Yes. The title floats across the top, a mask resting in a window, paper lanterns drifting across a night sky. A little detective work led me to Charles W. Hamp, who also performed under the name “The California Blue Boy” and led Charles W. Hamp and the Rhythm Rascals. He sang, played piano and saxophone, and during World War I directed the United States Ambulance Service Jazz Band.
After the war, Hamp performed in vaudeville until 1927, then became director of a Los Angeles radio station. One evening, when a scheduled performer failed to appear, he stepped in at the piano and sang. The moment changed everything. He quickly became an overnight sensation and secured a recording contract with Columbia Records.
Masquerade itself feels tender and surreal. The lyrics by Mary Compton linger:
“Melodies, memories, are they haunting you? Or is life just a serenade?”
– Released April 27, 1928.
Another small detail caught my eye. A stamp across the cover: Rolph Winters Everything Musical, San Anselmo
That breadcrumb led me to the California Digital Newspaper Collection, where I found an advertisement for the very shop dated September 12, 1928. The same year the song debuted. From that same page, Miles and I found ourselves reading articles aloud, including a spirited write up about a women’s after school hockey team. Unexpected and humorous!
Chappell & Co.
Among everything we found, one name stood apart for its longevity. Founded in 1811, Chappell established itself on Bond Street in London, placing it at the center of cultural life among galleries, salons, and fashionable society.
By the time they were firmly rooted there, Ludwig van Beethoven’s music was already in high demand. Publishers like Chappell helped bring his work into homes through printed editions.
Over time, Chappell expanded into theatrical music, eventually building deep ties to New York’s stage scene. Through publishing, licensing, and royalties, their influence continued to grow, later becoming part of Warner Chappell Music, now one of the largest publishers in the world, representing artists like David Bowie, Fiona Apple, Raye, and Laufey.
And to think, all of this began with an afternoon at the antique store.
In a time shaped by endless scrolling, I find myself grateful for these slower evenings, retracing the history of Tin Pan Alley and its connection to the vintage world I love so much. The stack of soft, weathered sheet music sits beside my computer now. Each page carries a story of how music once moved, how it was held, learned, and shared.
It makes me wonder what will remain 100 years from now. Will there be something to hold, to sift through, to discover? Will curiosity carry these stories forward? I sure hope so.
Life is just a serenade.
– Michelle
Sources & little trails I followed along the way
- Beethoven Music Research Center
- Center for Bibliographical Studies and Research
Echo-Times, Volume 3, Number 2
September 12, 1928 - NYC Landmarks Preservation Commission
“LPC Designates Five Historic Buildings Associated with Tin Pan Alley”
December 10, 2019 - Second Hand Songs
- University of Oregon Libraries
“Tin Pan Alley and Music Publishing”