//essays//
Fall 2018
"In a word, divisive":
A History of the Columbia University Marching Band
Gidon Halbfinger
In December of Fall 2016, less than a week prior to the 62nd consecutive Orgo Night, the Columbia University Marching Band—or CUMB, as they label themselves—was told by a collection of Columbia administrators that they would not be allowed to hold the bi-annual event in Butler Library. Administrators cited noise complaints and the disruptive nature of the event as problematic, despite the event planned in advance in coordination with Public Safety. This confrontation sparked two years of controversy that culminated this year in the announcement that the Band would lose $15,000 of its roughly $25,000 annual budget as the CC and SEAS Deans’ Offices revoked their entire contribution to the band’s bottom line. This drastic measure is merely the latest in a series of conflicts CUMB has endured over more than a half-century as the Band’s audacious, edgy, and occasionally offensive brand of comedy has created tension with both students and administrators that is unparalleled in the Ivy League.
The Band’s precise origins are murky, given its informal beginnings. What is clear is that a marching band began playing at Columbia athletic contests in the early 20th century; some sources report 1904, (1) although the immediate past Head Manager, Vivian Klotz (BC ‘20), says that the Band’s existence was “off and on for a little bit” in the early 1900’s. Certainly in 1900 there was not yet a band; a Spectator article from November 6, 1900 cites the need for a Columbia student-run marching band “that can play the student airs” at upcoming football contests, rather than a hired “band furnished us in the spirit of charity.” (2) Almost three years later, however, the Columbia baseball squad was still scrambling to cover the costs of an outside, professional band to play at their games. (3) Over the course of the next decade, though, a student-run band took shape and added to school spirit even outside the athletic realm: in June of 1911, the Commencement Day schedule followed “the big Alumni Beefsteak Dinner” with a Band concert on the steps of Low Library.
In these early years of its existence, the band performed a fairly standard musical role at Columbia Athletics contests. One Spectator article from 1914, quaint in retrospect, records that “a picked crew of musicians” traveled to Philadelphia among “four score loyal rooters” for a Saturday night basketball contest between the Lions and Pennsylvania Quakers which Columbia won, 21-17. (4) Notable about the contest were three things: first, that no brawls broke out (apparently in contrast to prior contests between the two teams); second, that the low ceiling of the Penn gymnasium made it impossible to shoot the basketball from any distance; and third, that the Columbia band played a University of Pennsylvania fight song, “Red and Blue,” endearing themselves—apparently—to members of both cheering sections. Spectator records that this was “an exhibition of sportsmanship which was a credit to themselves and to the name of collegiate sport.” A clipping from 1945 confirms this straitlaced image, declaring that the band featured “no glamorous sexy drum majorettes, no baton twirlers or other circus sideshow features” and “devoted itself solely to playing and marching[,] which is all that a marching band should do.”
As ceilings over basketball courts rose, however, so did the band’s penchant for controversy. By the early 1960’s, the band had transformed from a traditional marching band into what is known as a “scramble band”—a band that, rather than performing rigorously structured line-marches—played satirical and humorous material while forming ‘scrambled’ lines on-field depicting thematically relevant objects. Alumnus Andrew Farber (CC ‘76) places the band’s transition in the Fall of 1963, although other sources date the transition earlier. (5) Regardless, the transformation was certainly complete by 1964. In that year, Spectator ran what became an recurring column on “the cleverest band,” stating that “there were two reasons for attending Columbia football games” that year, despite the team’s losing record: star quarterback Archie Roberts and “the Columbia Band.” (6) Though the band was certainly committed to comedy that year, it had yet to rile up the administration: its most provocative material included paying “Hatikvah” and “Onward Christian Soldiers” back to back (“for reasons of brotherhood”) and spelling out the letters W-A-S-P in a formation on-field during a game against Princeton.
Most other Ivy League bands underwent a similar transition during this period (in fact, it appears to have been Harvard’s band that began the ‘scramble band’ revolution, although CUMB’s website claims otherwise), (7) but it was Columbia’s band that eventually achieved the greatest notoriety. This was thanks in large part to the “birth control game,” a stunt the band attempted to pull in the mid-’60s, although it is unclear exactly when: Spectator articles from 1966 and 1999 describe it as happening at a game against Brown in 1965, (8) The New York Times has cited the year as 1967, (9) and later Spec articles mention 1966. (10) Whenever it was written, “The Birth Control Show” script included jokes about premature ejaculation, pimples caused by ‘the pill,’ and a jab at the Catholic Church involving chastity belts. The administration was not happy: in a foreshadowing of more recent events, a dean visited the band before the game and threatened to slash their budget the next season if they ran the proposed script; the plan was scrapped. In 1972, however, the band dipped into its archives and did indeed run material parodying birth control—at a “children’s day” football game nonetheless.
Over the ensuing decades, the band maintained both its off-color sense of humor and its willingness to raise the ire of administrators and student groups. The laundry list of its most contentious performances includes forming a “burning Cambodian village” at West Point in 1970 to protest US military involvement in southeast Asia, playing “Light My Fire” while forming an American flag in the wake of the 1989 Texas v. Johnson ruling permitting flag burning, and using a stripper pole in reference to the Gaza Strip on Orgo Night promotional materials in 2012. As Klotz puts it, “In one word, we’re divisive. We’re always aware that there’s a portion of campus that likes us, a portion that doesn’t like us, and a portion that doesn’t care either way.”
Despite dividing campus and continually angering administrators, the band continues to work what- ever irreverent content it can past censors. This remains possible because the home team is responsible for script review, and not all host schools review bands’ scripts before games. Since all Ivy League schools other than Cornell have scramble bands at this point, Klotz says that those campuses are wise to the band’s antics and review CUMB scripts when Columbia visits. Other schools, however, are not always so careful. In 2002, the band was temporarily banned from Fordham University football games after a halftime joke about altar boys and molestation angered administrators at the Jesuit school.
However, despite (or perhaps because of) its occasional antics, CUMB considers itself a vital and positive contributor to the on-campus atmosphere. In general, Klotz says, the band has felt underappreciated given their contributions to school spirit. This feeling is not new; similar sentiments have been voiced by former band members, including in a 1986 letter to the Spectator by a one time band member, Margaret McCarthy (CC ‘86), who criticized administrators and students for not allowing the band more field-time at homecoming that year and for not appreciating their contributions to school pride on campus. The band has played at 35 Columbia-related events this year, according to Klotz: Orgo Night and football games are hardly its only commitments.
It is a long history of offensive material, then, that the band brings into its current conflict with administrators—but Klotz maintains that it is not fair to attach all that baggage to the band as currently constituted. “We’ve made an effort to get rid of the things that are outdated,” Klotz says. “For a while, Band did tend to punch down. Then there was a transition phase when we tended to punch everywhere, and that led to some issues. I think we were trying to find a place where we were consistent: yes, we’d be funny, but we’d only be punching up.” Despite revamping its approach to comedy over the past five to ten years, however, she feels that the administration has not warmed up to the band. Slashing the band’s budget is only the latest expression of that coldness; Klotz maintains that even before that measure, CUMB’s budget was among the smallest marching band budgets in the Ivy League.
As for what’s next? Klotz says she assumes Orgo Night will be held outside Butler for the foreseeable future, since the administration has threatened to take disciplinary action against individual band members who participate in a Butler-based event. Whether the band’s recent compliance and tone-modulation is enough to get back into the administration’s good graces, however, remains to be seen.
The Band’s precise origins are murky, given its informal beginnings. What is clear is that a marching band began playing at Columbia athletic contests in the early 20th century; some sources report 1904, (1) although the immediate past Head Manager, Vivian Klotz (BC ‘20), says that the Band’s existence was “off and on for a little bit” in the early 1900’s. Certainly in 1900 there was not yet a band; a Spectator article from November 6, 1900 cites the need for a Columbia student-run marching band “that can play the student airs” at upcoming football contests, rather than a hired “band furnished us in the spirit of charity.” (2) Almost three years later, however, the Columbia baseball squad was still scrambling to cover the costs of an outside, professional band to play at their games. (3) Over the course of the next decade, though, a student-run band took shape and added to school spirit even outside the athletic realm: in June of 1911, the Commencement Day schedule followed “the big Alumni Beefsteak Dinner” with a Band concert on the steps of Low Library.
In these early years of its existence, the band performed a fairly standard musical role at Columbia Athletics contests. One Spectator article from 1914, quaint in retrospect, records that “a picked crew of musicians” traveled to Philadelphia among “four score loyal rooters” for a Saturday night basketball contest between the Lions and Pennsylvania Quakers which Columbia won, 21-17. (4) Notable about the contest were three things: first, that no brawls broke out (apparently in contrast to prior contests between the two teams); second, that the low ceiling of the Penn gymnasium made it impossible to shoot the basketball from any distance; and third, that the Columbia band played a University of Pennsylvania fight song, “Red and Blue,” endearing themselves—apparently—to members of both cheering sections. Spectator records that this was “an exhibition of sportsmanship which was a credit to themselves and to the name of collegiate sport.” A clipping from 1945 confirms this straitlaced image, declaring that the band featured “no glamorous sexy drum majorettes, no baton twirlers or other circus sideshow features” and “devoted itself solely to playing and marching[,] which is all that a marching band should do.”
As ceilings over basketball courts rose, however, so did the band’s penchant for controversy. By the early 1960’s, the band had transformed from a traditional marching band into what is known as a “scramble band”—a band that, rather than performing rigorously structured line-marches—played satirical and humorous material while forming ‘scrambled’ lines on-field depicting thematically relevant objects. Alumnus Andrew Farber (CC ‘76) places the band’s transition in the Fall of 1963, although other sources date the transition earlier. (5) Regardless, the transformation was certainly complete by 1964. In that year, Spectator ran what became an recurring column on “the cleverest band,” stating that “there were two reasons for attending Columbia football games” that year, despite the team’s losing record: star quarterback Archie Roberts and “the Columbia Band.” (6) Though the band was certainly committed to comedy that year, it had yet to rile up the administration: its most provocative material included paying “Hatikvah” and “Onward Christian Soldiers” back to back (“for reasons of brotherhood”) and spelling out the letters W-A-S-P in a formation on-field during a game against Princeton.
Most other Ivy League bands underwent a similar transition during this period (in fact, it appears to have been Harvard’s band that began the ‘scramble band’ revolution, although CUMB’s website claims otherwise), (7) but it was Columbia’s band that eventually achieved the greatest notoriety. This was thanks in large part to the “birth control game,” a stunt the band attempted to pull in the mid-’60s, although it is unclear exactly when: Spectator articles from 1966 and 1999 describe it as happening at a game against Brown in 1965, (8) The New York Times has cited the year as 1967, (9) and later Spec articles mention 1966. (10) Whenever it was written, “The Birth Control Show” script included jokes about premature ejaculation, pimples caused by ‘the pill,’ and a jab at the Catholic Church involving chastity belts. The administration was not happy: in a foreshadowing of more recent events, a dean visited the band before the game and threatened to slash their budget the next season if they ran the proposed script; the plan was scrapped. In 1972, however, the band dipped into its archives and did indeed run material parodying birth control—at a “children’s day” football game nonetheless.
Over the ensuing decades, the band maintained both its off-color sense of humor and its willingness to raise the ire of administrators and student groups. The laundry list of its most contentious performances includes forming a “burning Cambodian village” at West Point in 1970 to protest US military involvement in southeast Asia, playing “Light My Fire” while forming an American flag in the wake of the 1989 Texas v. Johnson ruling permitting flag burning, and using a stripper pole in reference to the Gaza Strip on Orgo Night promotional materials in 2012. As Klotz puts it, “In one word, we’re divisive. We’re always aware that there’s a portion of campus that likes us, a portion that doesn’t like us, and a portion that doesn’t care either way.”
Despite dividing campus and continually angering administrators, the band continues to work what- ever irreverent content it can past censors. This remains possible because the home team is responsible for script review, and not all host schools review bands’ scripts before games. Since all Ivy League schools other than Cornell have scramble bands at this point, Klotz says that those campuses are wise to the band’s antics and review CUMB scripts when Columbia visits. Other schools, however, are not always so careful. In 2002, the band was temporarily banned from Fordham University football games after a halftime joke about altar boys and molestation angered administrators at the Jesuit school.
However, despite (or perhaps because of) its occasional antics, CUMB considers itself a vital and positive contributor to the on-campus atmosphere. In general, Klotz says, the band has felt underappreciated given their contributions to school spirit. This feeling is not new; similar sentiments have been voiced by former band members, including in a 1986 letter to the Spectator by a one time band member, Margaret McCarthy (CC ‘86), who criticized administrators and students for not allowing the band more field-time at homecoming that year and for not appreciating their contributions to school pride on campus. The band has played at 35 Columbia-related events this year, according to Klotz: Orgo Night and football games are hardly its only commitments.
It is a long history of offensive material, then, that the band brings into its current conflict with administrators—but Klotz maintains that it is not fair to attach all that baggage to the band as currently constituted. “We’ve made an effort to get rid of the things that are outdated,” Klotz says. “For a while, Band did tend to punch down. Then there was a transition phase when we tended to punch everywhere, and that led to some issues. I think we were trying to find a place where we were consistent: yes, we’d be funny, but we’d only be punching up.” Despite revamping its approach to comedy over the past five to ten years, however, she feels that the administration has not warmed up to the band. Slashing the band’s budget is only the latest expression of that coldness; Klotz maintains that even before that measure, CUMB’s budget was among the smallest marching band budgets in the Ivy League.
As for what’s next? Klotz says she assumes Orgo Night will be held outside Butler for the foreseeable future, since the administration has threatened to take disciplinary action against individual band members who participate in a Butler-based event. Whether the band’s recent compliance and tone-modulation is enough to get back into the administration’s good graces, however, remains to be seen.
1 https://www.columbiaspectator.com/eye/2016/10/03/paradoxical-cumb-couched-politically- charged-legacy/
2 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19001106- 01.2.15&srpos=3&e=------
3 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19030514-01.2.2&srpos=5&e=------
4 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19140302-01.2.8&srpos=16&e=------
5 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/cgi-bin/columbia?a=d&d=cs19641209- 01.2.12&srpos=1&e=-----
6 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/cgi-bin/columbia?a=d&d=cs19641209- 01.2.12&srpos=1&e=-----
7 http://cuband.org/about/
8 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19991210-01.2.61&srpos=5&e=------
9 https://www.nytimes.com/2002/09/29/style/and-the-band-misbehaved-on.html
10 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19661029-01.2.7&srpos=2&e=------ 196-en-20-
2 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19001106- 01.2.15&srpos=3&e=------
3 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19030514-01.2.2&srpos=5&e=------
4 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19140302-01.2.8&srpos=16&e=------
5 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/cgi-bin/columbia?a=d&d=cs19641209- 01.2.12&srpos=1&e=-----
6 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/cgi-bin/columbia?a=d&d=cs19641209- 01.2.12&srpos=1&e=-----
7 http://cuband.org/about/
8 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19991210-01.2.61&srpos=5&e=------
9 https://www.nytimes.com/2002/09/29/style/and-the-band-misbehaved-on.html
10 http://spectatorarchive.library.columbia.edu/?a=d&d=cs19661029-01.2.7&srpos=2&e=------ 196-en-20-
//GIDON HALBFINGER is a senior in Columbia College and Politics Editor of The Current. He can be reached at [email protected]