by Marcianne Miller . photos by Matt Rose
He’s been hosting classical music programs on WCQS (88.1 FM) radio for over a quarter century, but that doesn’t mean Haw Creek resident Chip Kaufmann is a musician. “I never learned to read music,” he confesses. “And I don’t play a musical instrument.” He can’t carry a tune either, so his wife says, and to the keen disappointment of his Swiss-proud father, he’s a “pitiful yodeler.” With his broad knowledge of classical music, everyone assumes Kaufmann is academically trained. The truth is, he reveals, “I learned everything I know about music from reading liner notes.”
As if being a self-taught encyclopedia of classical music weren’t enough, Kaufmann is also one of Western North Carolina’s premiere film historians, specializing in two esoteric, some might say “eccentric” specialties—“Gothic” horror films and silent films. He’s a popular film teacher and a familiar presence at most of the area’s film events, especially Sunday afternoons at the Hendersonville Film Society. Partnered with his WCQS colleague Michelle Keenan, he writes the “Reel Takes” film section for Rapid River.
While wife Linda Frankl leaves to visit one of her hospice patients and son Max, 17, plays X-box with a friend, and daughter Clara, 15, surfs the net, Kaufmann retreats to his basement study. His kids call it “the dungeon,’’ but with its dark green walls and wooden shelves, it resembles a comfy Edwardian club room—a perfect hideaway indeed for a man who treasures the people and things of bygone eras.
Here, neatly organized at chair level are Kaufmann’s precious collections of vintage classical music CDs and silent film DVDs. He does all his writing here—by hand in a spiral-bound notebook. And here, surrounded by personal memorabilia, especially from his childhood in Greenville, SC, Kaufmann does what he does best—keeps his feet planted firmly in both the present and the past.
Can’t live without? Music. All kinds, but especially chamber music.
Your aha! moment for chamber music? I owe it all to Tales from the Crypt, a horror movie I saw in college. A man whose lover has died plays the same song over and over again on a record player. The music was so hypnotic, I had to find out what it was. Turns out it was a famous piece of chamber music, Death and the Maiden, by Schubert. I tracked down a recording, fell in love with it, and gradually branched out into recordings of other classical music.
Biggest challenge hosting a classical music series? Putting together three hours of material every week that is varied and interesting. I usually open with an overture, then have a chamber piece or piano music or small orchestral piece in the middle, and try to finish with a symphony or concerto.
Favorite radio memory? Any time someone gets so turned on by a piece I’ve played they contact the station to learn what it was. “What was that music? I gotta have it!” I live for that.
Where do you find the recordings? All the music on the Thursday Night Classics series (live every Thursday 7 to 10pm) comes from my own collection, which I keep here in my study. Vintage classic recordings from the 1950s and 60s. They are far superior to the recordings being produced today—I don’t buy any contemporary recordings of classical music. For Encore, the Sunday show (pre-recorded 2-4 pm), I play recordings both from the radio station and my own collection.
What’s in your car CD player? Now I’m celebrating the 40th anniversary of Woodstock, so it’s Country Joe and the Fish and The Doors.
The roots of your creative passions? The single greatest influence in my life is a book called The First Half Century, 1900 to 1950. A big, heavy volume—I sat on the floor with it open on my knees—full of photographs, B&W of course, organized by category, with captions. I would sit for hours poring over the photos. When I learned to read, I’d devour every page over and over again. The book formed my ideas of things—my love of B&W photography, old movies and history.
Favorite memento from your childhood home? The Black Forest cuckoo clock my grandfather brought back after WWII. It was in the hallway outside my room so its pronounced “tick” is a reassuring sound. But the cuckoo needs repair—every time one o’clock rolls around it won’t stop cuckooing!
As a child you wanted to be? An actor. Every day after school I’d watch old movies on TV with my mother, who was crazy about the films from her youth, the 1930s and 40s. That’s how I learned to love acting. When I was a sophomore in high school, I had a superb speech teacher who inspired my love of theatre and teaching.
Did your dream of being an actor come true? Oh, yes. I got my degree in drama from Furman University—then worked as an actor, mostly the fun character roles, in regional theatre for 20 years. My last show was in 1987 in a two-character piece about two old men sitting on a park bench, called The Duck Variations, that was performed at the old Stone Soup restaurant (now the Mellow Mushroom) in downtown Asheville.
Who’s the actor you’d most like to have been? Boris Karloff. He worked non-stop for 37 years. He had an element of dignity and especially pathos that always moved me. Plus he had that marvelous voice which I could listen to forever. His 1960-1962 TV series Thriller was what really turned me on to atmospheric horror.
Why does a nice guy like you love horror films so much? They touch my soul. But only certain types of horror films, the ones I call “Gothic” horror, produced before The Exorcist (1973) made explicit horror mainstream. The films I love are atmospheric horror films, such as England’s Hammer Films from the 1950s and 60s. They are mostly European in setting, and rely heavily on light and shadow and the artistic use of color to achieve psychological effects.
Which “Gothic” horror film would you like to have directed? Operazione Paura (literally “How Fear Operates,” but given the drive-in title of Kill, Baby…Kill!), directed by Mario Bava in 1966. It’s about the ghost of a child who wreaks vengeance on the European village that allowed her to die. Beautifully atmospheric and exquisitely lit. The type of celluloid legacy I’d like to leave behind.
Superstitions? I was trained in the theatre so of course I have superstitions. My good luck charm is a Steiff bear, named Nimrod. At age 15, in my first stage performance, as Van Helsing in Dracula, the bear was on the set as a prop—and I got great reviews. Since then I’ve never performed without him. He sits on the microphone at WCQS when I do my shows.
Favorite recreational beverage? Cold beer. There was a time when I wanted to drink my way through the 35 mini-mugs in the Franklin Mint international beer collection. I have only five to go. But now I love the local beers, all of them.
Favorite sport? Baseball. I see more of a human element in baseball than in any other sport. It’s a game that seems to be controlled by fate—you can watch the start of a play and it’s like destiny how they play out. Plus it has a great history.
Favorite baseball memento? I got hit by a foul ball during a Tourist game in 1984. After it bounced off my arm, a boy caught the ball and after the game came up and handed it to me. Nice kid.
Back to the movies—what is it about silent films that makes you so passionate about them? In silent movies, emotions are more direct, completely different from sound films, as different as ballet from opera. Silent film actors use body language and facial expressions to convey emotions—everything is a more intimate connection, similar actually to the effect that chamber music creates.
What silent film have you seen more than any other? Broken Blossoms, directed by the great D.W. Griffith (1919). This film draws me completely into its world, I forget everything around me. I am right there in that district of London’s Limehouse, watching the poor girl being mistreated by her father and watching the Chinese man’s love for her. It’s poetry on film. Even though I’ve seen it many, many times I never fail to get emotional when I watch it.
What do most people wrongly assume about silent films? The biggest misconception about silent films is that they are crude and old-fashioned. Silent films were shot at a different speed than sound films, 16 frames per second, but they are often played at 24, so they’re speeded up. Fine for comedies but the dramas look ridiculous.
How can film lovers see silent films today? It’s easy now. Silent films are being reissued in DVDs, with appropriate music and restored photography. Old technology is made new. If you present silent films in the proper speed, sound and picture, audiences come away with appreciation and respect. My classes have borne this out.
Silent film star you’d love to lunch with? Mabel Normand. Because she was beautiful, funny, and of all the silent stars, I would like to warn her of the tragedy that lies ahead for her.
Dream director to helm your film bio? Frank Borzage (1893-1962), who directed 7th Heaven (1927) and A Farewell to Arms (1932) because he is best qualified to capture the sentimentality that I require—for me, sentiment and sentimentality are not dirty words.
Next big purchase? Gaumont Treasures, a DVD collection of early silent films from France made between 1897 and 1913 which features the work of the first woman director, Alice Guy. I’ll use it in my class on Women Film Directors of the Silent Era this fall at the North Carolina Center for Creative Retirement.
