We use cookies to distinguish you from other users and to provide you with a better experience on our websites. Close this message to accept cookies or find out how to manage your cookie settings.
To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
Since the 1960s manga has boasted a firm standing in the Japanese economy and society by continuously offering captivating and commercially successful narratives. This has been made possible in great measure by the manga magazines as the central venue of publication from the 1960s until the late 1990s, and their editor-in-charge system. This chapter surveys the multiple roles that manga editors fulfill, from corporate agent to manga artists’ collaborator and target-audience representative. It introduces the basic institutional steps of producing a manga serial while considering differences between printed and digital formats, up to and including remuneration practices. The main focus is on corporate manga’s commodity value as the common goal of both editors and artists, as well as the related fact that readership, or consumption, is given precedence over authorship, and collaborative over individual authorship.
This chapter considers the music publishing industry in Puccini’s Italy, with a particular focus on Puccini’s principal publisher, the Casa Ricordi. The chapter examines the role that publishers played within the wider operatic industry, which by Puccini’s time included managing contracts between composers and opera houses and influencing casting, as well as the more traditional business of printing, publishing, and promoting scores. The particular musical specialisms of the Sonzogno and Ricordi publishing houses are discussed. The author shows how Ricordi elevated Puccini to the position of national-composer-elect towards the end of Verdi’s lifetime and constructed a ‘Puccini myth’. Expensive, sophisticated publicity tools and marketing strategies were used to promote Puccini’s works, not only in Italy but in territories across the globe. The chapter discusses how Puccini’s relationship with the firm changed as a result of the succession of power from Giulio to Tito Ricordi upon the former’s death, as well as the firm’s management of Puccini’s works after his own death.
Molière’s publishing career highlights the ambiguities and eccentricities of the early modern Parisian book trade, while also demonstrating the author’s concern for his plays’ passage from stage to page. While Molière was initially victimised by unscrupulous booksellers, he eventually became an able participant in the publication process, capable of exploiting print’s possibilities to his own advantage. His career can be roughly divided into three phases: his early and ultimately successful battles against pirated editions that led to a stable publishing approach; his mid career rupture with his initial publishers and the resultant search for new partners; and his subsequent collaboration with Jean Ribou, including the alternative publication measures taken as a result of Ribou’s continued legal troubles. While on occasion Molière disavowed an interest in publication rhetorically, his actual practice reveals an author invested in the circumstances of his works’ printing and inventive in his interactions with Parisian publishers, in some instances even outmanoeuvring the professionals of the book trade. Working in an era prior to modern copyright protections, Molière learned to use publication, the royal privilege system, and personal notoriety to ensure ownership and control over his theatrical corpus.
From mid-1943 until late-1950, Eric Crozier was an essential asset to Britten’s industry. His work alongside director and radio producer Tyrone Guthrie not only introduced Crozier to the Old Vic in London, but to the BBC as well, where Guthrie also worked. Joan Cross invited Crozier and Guthrie to each direct two different productions at Sadler’s Wells in 1943. Crozier directed and produced Britten’s first two operas, Peter Grimes in 1945 at Sadler’s Wells, and The Rape of Lucretia in 1946 for the short-lived Glyndebourne English Opera Company. Crozier wrote the librettos for Albert Herring and the children’s entertainment Let’s Make an Opera (with its central opera, The Little Sweep), in addition to writing the text for the cantata Saint Nicolas, and with E. M. Forster, he was co-librettist for Billy Budd. Britten, Crozier, and designer John Piper founded the English Opera Group. The endeavour was based on ‘the Britten–Crozier doctrine’ that sought the group’s own autonomy and ultimately a home to produce such works. That home was largely realised in the founding of the Aldeburgh Festival of Music and the Arts in 1948, for which Crozier was a founder and co-artistic director.
The Introduction explains why the early modern history play needs to be reappraised through an examination of publishers and the publication process. It opens by considering the problems of author-centric approaches that tend to discuss Shakespeare’s English histories to the exclusion of other plays, dramatists, and agents of production. It shows how ideas of ‘history’ and performed ‘histories’ were defined, debated, and interpreted during the period. This evidence demands an approach to the history play that is alert to the participation of different individuals in constructing the genre. The second half of the Introduction directs attention towards the transmission of plays from stage to page and proposes that publication agents have actively controlled and shaped the printed history play through two interlinked agendas, which feature throughout the book: strategies of selection (seen through print contexts) and strategies of presentation (seen through print paratexts). Finally, the Introduction considers the origins of these print strategies in non-commercial and pre-playhouse drama and offers a short case study on the Inns of Court play Gorboduc.
This chapter is the first of three that shifts the focus of the book from the Arctic ship to the public metropolitan sphere. Between 1850 and 1853, an astonishing twelve travel narratives of exploration were published by members of expeditions involved in the search for Franklin. By 1860, twenty-four narratives had been published from the search, representing a sudden increase in books about the Arctic. Many of the publications were illustrated and ran to several editions, testifying to the popularity of texts about Arctic exploration. The chapter explores the text–picture interplay in narratives of travel and exploration that were published by members of search expeditions from 1850 to 1860. It explains how the representation of the Arctic was heavily dependent on factors such as the success and duration of the voyage, the way in which an author wished to portray himself, and the vibrant visual culture of the nineteenth century.
Ordinary people’s intuitive thinking about readers of journal articles typically focuses on the scientific community. The four real-life cases, Seth, Tim, and Chris, Singer and Willett, suggest that readers are important, diverse, complex, and broad. Among various types of readers, peer reviewers and science journalists are two special and critical groups of readers. To publish our manuscripts successfully, four practical suggestions are offered: understanding readers and always have our readers in mind before or after we prepare our manuscripts; understandingreviewers and always have peer reviewers in mind before we write a manuscript; and understanding journalists and always have scientific reporters in mind after we publish a journal article.
Throughout his lifetime, Brahms accompanied dozens of singers in a variety of settings, ranging from huge public halls to his friends’ homes, and conducted many others in choirs. Some of those working relationships were one-offs, arising from the widespread practice of including a set of piano-accompanied songs within most concerts and the expediency and cost-effectiveness of using local talent. Others were deep, enduring partnerships; the timbres and interpretative approaches of those singers are surely ingrained in his vocal music. Overall, Brahms’s singers were generally not part of the international operatic elite associated with Verdi, Bizet and Massenet. Figures like Julius Stockhausen (1826–1906) and Raimund von Zur-Mühlen (1854–1931)were almost exclusively concert singers and, later on, teachers. Most hailed from German-speaking territories, reflecting Brahms’s own concert career.
Since Brahms only had a salaried position for brief periods (as choral director in Detmold, 1857–9, director of the Vienna Singakademie 1863–4 and artistic director of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde 1871–5), he had to support himself primarily by other means. Apart from concert fees, he relied on the honoraria his publishers paid him and did not receive royalties. Indeed, his relationships with his publishers are a means of tracing his stratospheric career trajectory. As a young man, Brahms was forced to tout his works to publishers and enter into protracted and wearying negotiations, which jarred against his artistic principles. In later years, he was a universally courted composer who could determine the conditions under which his work would be published. In fact, after 1869, it was virtually only one publisher, Fritz Simrock, who issued all of Brahms’s new works.
Three days before Brahms was born on 7 May 1833 in Hamburg, the first weekly illustrated magazine, the Pfennig-Magazin was published. Following on from the success of the Penny Magazine, which had appeared in England since 1832, the Pfennig-Magazin also aimed to reach a broad public. A few months later, the Hamburg music publisher Julius Schubert announced a new music periodical, a Pfennig-Magazin für Pianofortespieler, which offered ‘selected piano compositions for beginners, experienced players and virtuosos’.
Brahms was born at a time in which the market for printed matter, and especially music, was burgeoning as a result of newer, cheaper printing methods and the growing demand from music-making (especially piano-playing) amateurs [see Ch. 14 ‘Private Music-Making’]. Arrangements were very profitable, but since resulting copyright issues were still unresolved, this led to many copyright disputes between publishers from the 1830s onwards [see Ch. 11 ‘As Arranger’].
The career of Richard Francklin, c.1696-1765, bookseller, publisher and printer, spanned a crucial period in the history of the eighteenth-century book. Examining Francklin's mix of business activities, this chapter considers Francklin's career as a representative example of early to mid-Georgian stationers. The alliance of the author to his or her stationer was one of the more important associations in the eighteenth-century literary world. The almost feudal or patronal attachment that an author like Swift demonstrated towards someone like Benjamin Tooke or George Faulkner, and the personal betrayal Swift felt from Benjamin Motte II, suggest the intensity of feelings which author-publisher relations inspired. Much of Francklin's work, especially on books from the first years of his business, 1718-26, was collaborative, with risks and profits shared among several stationers; multivolume large works were almost always undertaken in such coalitions.
Recommend this
Email your librarian or administrator to recommend adding this to your organisation's collection.