
Salam/Namaskar,
It is curious how a small email, a simple “hello,” or a genuine ask can sometimes catapult a curious conversation, and sporadically even a new camaraderie. Voilà, such is life!
This happened to me recently.
I was recently working on my PhD chapter dealing with the interwar copyright discourse, and one name kept popping up: Dr Julius Kopsch. Naturally, I found myself wondering: who, pray, is this copyright curiou? Only later did I discover that Kopsch was a prominent figure in German copyright during the interwar years—and, dare I say, no stranger to controversy! (More on those controversies anon…)
Inquisitive (or perhaps simply procrastinating from my main task of actually writing the chapter?), I began ferreting out the name and happened upon the wonderful website of Tobias Broeker, a collector and preserver of manuscripts and scores, particularly from the twentieth century.
And then came the little surprise.
Tobias, as it turns out, holds part of Kopsch’s estate. Not merely musical manuscripts, but a rather curious collection of letters and documents covering Kopsch’s activities throughout his life. Id est, his concert programmes, his work as a conductor, documents relating to his copyright activities at the Genossenschaft Deutscher Tonsetzer and beyond, his work with the Ärzte- und Juristenorchester, and the Richard Strauss Gesellschaft. If intrigued, here’s the full finding aid to see other Kopsch’s niceties it entails.
Well … if you know, you know. For someone interested in the history of copyright—or simply in the strange joy of leafing through dusty documents, dying papers, and hazy handwritten notes—this was an invitation too tempting to resist!
So, curiosity piqued and hope duly mustered, I wrote to Tobias and asked if I might see the copyright-related material.
Lo and behold! Not only was his response prompt and positive, but Tobias digitised the materials almost immediately. The very next day, he shared the digitised archive with me.
May his tribe increase! Tobias has made the copyright-related documents available here.
Though I am yet to pore over the file in its entirety, I have already fed it into NotebookLM (a very useful tool created by Google that can come in handy for such research). For the documents are in German, and, alas, this blogger is yet to acquire that particular linguistic superpower.
NotebookLM described the documents as follows. But do have a look through the archive yourself, should it pique your interest:
“A significant portion of the material examines the advocacy for extending copyright protection from 30 to 50 years, highlighted by the writings and activism of Wenzel Goldbaum. The archive includes various legal articles, correspondence, and manuscripts that track the evolution of intellectual property rights through the Nazi era and into the post-war reconstruction of German law. These sources emphasise the vital role of the Genossenschaft Deutsche Tonsetzer (GDT) in protecting the economic and moral interests of composers like Richard Strauss. Additionally, the texts provide a comparative analysis between German and Italian copyright reforms, reflecting a broader European shift toward systematic legal protection for creators. Together, the collection serves as a historical record of the struggle to secure fair compensation and artistic freedom for intellectual workers.“
If you like to transcend copyright contours ….
If you have an interest in the arts, music, cultural history, or enjoy savouring the sheer serendipity of archives, Tobias’s website is well worth a wander. There are some wonderful things tucked away there.
For instance, Tobias has a long-term objective of “helping to bring unknown or forgotten compositions on stage.” In keeping with that mission, his website has a rather delightful page titled “Research Effects,” where he lists “the most prominent effects I had on the creation or performance of compositions.”
’Tis a good reminder that we can quietly shape the afterlife of forgotten works—perhaps before we forget that there was something to be forgotten in the first place.
I have already thanked Tobias, and can only wish him the very best in his endeavours. His generosity has certainly made this little archival detour all the more rewarding.
And a final word for those willing or wishing to tread a similar path, I’d say: sometimes the most productive research tool is simply asking. Of course, this presupposes that you have done your homework first!
It is advice my mentor and dear friend, Swaraj Paul Barooah, once shared with me while nudging me towards this rather telling TED Talk: What I Learned from 100 Days of Rejection | Jia Jiang | TED
It has stayed with me. And, as this little episode rather neatly shows, the counsel occasionally bears fruit.
That’s all for today, dear reader. I should probably return to my pending draft before it begins to wonder whether I have abandoned it altogether.
Well… as I said above, Such is PhD life. And the process of PhD-ing.
Wishing you a great day and a wonderful week ahead.
Au revoir.
