The Polyphon: When Music Was Programmed on Perforated Discs In the closing years of the 19th century, long before vinyl records, magnetic tape, or digital files, a remarkable machine let ordinary people summon complex, multi-note music from thin air. It did not play recordings of real instruments or voices.... Instead, it executed precise mechanical instructions encoded on interchangeable metal discs. That machine was the Polyphon, and its story is one of the earliest and most elegant examples of “software” for music. The Polyphon was invented in 1870 in Leipzig, Germany, by two engineers: Gustav Adolf Brachhausen and Ernst Paul Riessner. They had previously worked with the Symphonion company, which had pioneered commercial disc-playing music boxes in the mid-1880s. Brachhausen and Riessner broke away to perfect and commercialize their own version. Their firm, originally called Firma Brachhausen & Riesener, was founded in 1887 in the Leipzig suburb of Wahren. It was renamed Polyphon-Musikwerke AG in 1895, and full-scale production of the iconic disc machines began around 1896–1897. The timing was perfect. Traditional cylinder music boxes, with their pinned barrels, were beautiful but expensive to make and difficult to duplicate in volume. Each new tune required an entirely new cylinder. The disc system changed everything. A single machine could play dozens or hundreds of different pieces simply by swapping a disc. This was revolutionary it turned music into something you could collect, trade, and update, much like software libraries or app catalogs today. Polyphon machines and their discs were exported worldwide. In 1892 the company sent people and tooling to America to establish the Regina Music Box Company in Rahway, New Jersey. Regina became one of the most famous names in American disc boxes and helped popularize the format across the Atlantic. How the Polyphon Actually Worked At first glance, a Polyphon looks like an ornate wooden cabinet or tabletop box with a large, flat metal disc inside. Wind the powerful clockwork motor (or, on coin-operated models, drop a coin), and the disc begins to spin. The magic is in the disc itself. These are not simple records. They are precision-stamped or punched sheets of tin-plated steel or similar metal. During manufacturing, holes are punched in carefully arranged patterns. The displaced metal is curled or pressed downward to form small raised projections — called plectra — on the underside of the disc. These tiny “fingers” are the actual data. As the disc rotates: The projections engage a row of star wheels (small, multi-pointed ratchets mounted in a gantry above the comb). Each star wheel is nudged forward by a projection and rotates just enough to pluck one tooth on the musical comb — a precisely tuned set of steel teeth of varying lengths. Longer teeth produce lower (bass) notes; shorter teeth produce higher (treble) notes. The radial position of the hole on the disc determines pitch; its angular position determines timing. Many models used two combs (sometimes striking simultaneously for richer tone, sometimes alternately). Larger instruments could have impressive volume and harmonic complexity. Playing time for a typical large disc (around 19–20 inches / 50 cm) was roughly 1 minute 45 seconds to 2 minutes — enough for a complete popular song, march, or waltz of the era. Drive systems varied by size. Smaller discs often used a center spindle; larger ones used peripheral drive holes around the edge for better stability and torque. A pressure bar kept the disc flat and properly engaged with the star wheels. Where the Polyphon becomes truly fascinating from a technological history perspective: The perforated disc is not a recording. It is a program. It contains encoded instructions: “At this moment, pluck these specific notes in this sequence and combination.” Change the disc, and the machine plays an entirely different piece without any modification.show more

Brian Roemmele

485,768 subscribers

Paylaş İndir