SUNDAY SUPPLEMENT: It might be time for another world record attempt to be staged in the town centre, writes DAVID MORGAN

Shampoo’d and all set: ‘Prof’ Albert Kemp at his keyboard for the world record attempt, looked after by Mrs Forbes
“Roll up! Roll up! Come and see the world record attempt! Get your tickets here!”
There was a significant world record attempt staged in Croydon back in 1920. Not in an Olympic event. Not an eating contest. Not even a test of strength. This was the piano-playing endurance trial and was staged in one of the many cinemas in the town a century ago.
The Standard Cinema in Surrey Street was a popular venue run by Arthur Brook. Brook claimed to run the best picture entertainment in Croydon. It showed two features, a serial and a comedy, which were changed Mondays and Thursdays. They had continuous shows from 1.45pm until 10.45pm and were open six days a week. Admission prices were at 3d (about 1.5p in “new” money), 5d, 6d, 9d with the best seats priced at 1s 3d – less than 7p.
With nine hours of silent films being shown each day, one of Brook’s most important employees was his cinema pianist. It would be their job to improvise the accompaniment for each scene and create additional atmosphere with their playing. The stars might be on the silver screen, with the likes of Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, but the pianist had a vital part to play.

First reports: news of Kemp’s record attempt spread around the country
Brook had a particularly talented accompanist, “Professor” Albert Kemp. One newspaper report of the day explained that Kemp had arrived in Croydon courtesy of Brook’s brother Edgar, who lived and worked in New York. Edgar worked as a manager for Pathe Freres, one of the leading American film distributors.
Albert Kemp was an outstanding musician. He was proficient on six other instruments, as well as the piano. Perhaps it was this expertise which brought him the title “Professor”.
He soon delighted his new Croydon audiences by playing the latest foxtrot melody, Dardanella, from Francis, Day and Hunter, the London music publishers.
“The live little picture house in Surrey Street” had been known for several astute moves to attract new business. The arrival of Kemp was their most ambitious venture yet. Kemp was comfortable playing for eight hours each day, but the world record attempt was something different. He would have to play continuously for more than 100 hours, four days continuous tinkling of the ivories.
Kemp’s training routine was interesting. His first longer session was from 9am on a Saturday until 1am on Sunday, a total of 16 hours. His second long session started a couple of days later at 9am on Tuesday and he played non-stop for 24 hours.
He then waited a week before he successfully completed a 38-hour stint.
Kemp was assisted in his record attempt by a Mrs M Forbes, who lived at 7 Fawcett Road. Not only was she going to sit through the performance to encourage him and feed him, but she donated her Cramer upright piano for him to play in the record attempt.
There was a prize on offer to the pianist who could break the record – £10,000, worth more than half-a-million today, allowing for inflation. The money was being offered by The Consolidated Music Company of Chicago. In order to claim the prize, Kemp was to begin on Tuesday at 9.15am and play until well into the evening of the Saturday.

News of the world: this being the 1920s, Kemp had set a pianoforte record
This was no easy task. After playing for 50 hours, Kemp’s fingers began to swell. During the Thursday night his left hand ring finger became so painful that his wedding ring had to be cut off. This was successfully done “without either hand leaving the keyboard”, wrote one reporter, who described Kemp as “the demon pianist.”
At one point on the Thursday, Kemp began to doze, but a facial massage revived him.
Friday evening was proving a real challenge as his stamina began to fail. His friends gave him milk and fish for nourishment, smelling salts to stimulate him and sprayed the piano keys with methylated spirits so his sweaty fingers didn’t stick to them.
Kemp was washed and shaved and had his hair shampooed while he was playing. He also showed the large audience in the cinema how he could exercise his legs and lungs, said a report, without taking his hands off the keyboard.
On the Saturday morning, at around 8am, Kemp began to experience some strange sensations. He’d by now been playing for 95 hours, with the record within his grasp. But he was sleep-deprived and close to exhaustion.
“All of a sudden,” Kemp said, “things about me began to seem different, as if I was in some other place. I thought it was a loss of memory and I played mechanically. This queer feeling lasted for a half-an- hour. But it seemed like a year.”
Somehow, Kemp found an inner strength to keep going through the final day. He had made plans for the final hours, as one paper wrote that he was he was going to try to change into evening dress without letting his hands leave the keyboard.

Cutting edge: the record attempt had daily updates in the newspapers, including the report of Kemp having his wedding ring sawn off
To mark the 100-hour point, Kemp played Mother o’ Mine and sang along, although his voice was rather forced. He celebrated the 105th hour by playing All The World Will Be Jealous of Me, but he had “insufficient vitality to sing the words.”
It was at 6.15pm on the Saturday when Kemp achieved his first target of matching the 105 hours posted by the previous record-holder, a New Zealander called Albert Steele. Kemp continued playing until 11.30pm, finishing his playing with a rousing rendition of the national anthem: Kemp had set the world record at 110 hours.
When it was all over, Kemp was presented with flowers and he gave a short speech. No hand-shaking was allowed because of the state of his fingers.
One newspaper reported, “His hands were swollen to almost twice their size and he had lost all sense of feeling them.”
Lloyd’s Weekly reported that Kemp looked a rather sorry figure at the end of his marathon stint. His eyes were swollen and strained and his fingers were puffy. In his last hour, he was dreamy and struggled to stay awake. He was grateful to have arms on his chair on which he could rest his elbows.
At the completion of his piano-playing efforts, thousands of people watched Kemp leave the Croydon picture house to get in his taxi. It needed a dozen policemen to stop him being mobbed by the crowd.
There was no mention in the newspapers about the £10,000 prize money.
Kemp’s backers were out to gain as much publicity as possible from the event. A Pathe News film crew was dispatched to Croydon for the event, their film available on the British Pathe website today. Kemp can be seen playing the piano while his hair is being washed and a woman, presumably Mrs Forbes, is feeding him.
Steele and Kemp continued to challenge each other over the next decade. By 1929, Kemp had regained the record with 112 hours 45 minutes, only for Steele to clinch it back by outlasting the time by 15 minutes in February 1930.
Kemp left his employment at the Croydon cinema and became the musical director of The Harry Tavern in Poplar. This pub, situated in Brunswick Road, was demolished in the 1970s to make way for the approaches to the Blackwall Tunnel.
Perhaps someone could organise a modern world record attempt in Croydon? That could be a boost for the town. There are lots of unusual categories to choose from. The current world record-holder for endurance piano playing is Thurzo Zoltan of Romania. His record is exactly 130 hours, achieved in September 2022.
Could someone bring the record back to Croydon?
David Morgan, pictured right, is a former Croydon headteacher, now the volunteer education officer at Croydon Minster, who offers tours or illustrated talks on the history around the Minster for local community groups
If you would like a group tour of Croydon Minster or want to book a school visit, then ring the Minster Office on 020 688 8104 or go to the website on www.croydonminster.org and use the contact page
Some previous articles by David Morgan:
- Struggle for survival of sawmill school and wilderness church
- Tough pioneer spirit took Croydon name to the Great Lakes
- Racing against the great Spitz at a Games scarred by violence
- The day Norwood-born Burke defeated Hitler’s Germany
- The church fire that consumed a thousand years of history
- If you have a news story about life in or around Croydon, or want to publicise your residents’ association or business, or if you have a local event to promote, please email us with full details at inside.croydon@btinternet.com
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ROTTEN BOROUGH AWARDS: In January 2024, Croydon was named among the country’s rottenest boroughs for a SEVENTH successive year in the annual round-up of civic cock-ups in Private Eye magazine

To get an idea of what sort of music the Professor played on his arrival in Croydon, head over to YouTube where you can listen to a piano rendition of Dardanella https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3hwIFPzf9U
This is a joy!!! We need entrepreneurs like Arthur Brook today to bring a little joy to our drab town!!
Another interesting article, thanks!
If you want a double entrendre about Croydon claiming to have an enduring pianist, I’ll give you one.