Sorry it's been quite a few days since my last post, it's been a busy last few days for me. But within those few days, I had a chance to read through some of the great book They All Played Ragtime, and I was looking through it at a slight glance, and I came across the long section about Ben Harney and mike Bernard.
(There's Harney)
What was said about all the general information on Harney was nothing new to me, but when I got toward the end of his life, that's when I really got surprised. I knew somewhat that he was pretty much broke in the last few years after his life, as he was forced to end his days of performing. But he was still seen on the stage in varying places in the 20's, as he can be seen in this astonishing photograph below:
I just read the article listed in the link above, and learned a few new things about Harney that I did not know, but am not surprised to hear of them.
His last few years were pretty bleak, living in a crappy old flat in a not-so-great part of town, with only the money from unions to keep them in line somewhat. It was just him and his wife Jesse by that time. The landlord of their building kept a close eye and ear on them for the years that they lived there, as they were an interesting couple to listen to. He said that they were still on the whole "actor's hours" thing, which meant that they were always up all night and asleep the whole of the day, even if they weren't out performing and such. He said that they'd be up all night exchanging conversation and stories from their performing days, and sometimes telling other people's stories.
But when Ben died "Her big Fancy Man" as his dear Jesse called him, she went pretty mad. Similar to that episode of "The Twilight Zone" where that absolutely mad film actress Barbara Trenton cannot move forward in times because of her unhealthy clinging to her glory days. This scenario is very much similar to Jesse Harney not being able to rid of the past, with her "Big fancy Man Ben".
(that's her in 1901)
She was said to have gone to her husband's unmarked grave every day after he died, and marked the days as well. She could easily have been taken for completely insane as she raved on about him in the long midnight hours, crying out for him, with not much to remember him with anyhow. Without his company, she just did not want to suffer much longer. She must have done things like drink the things that he did when they were together, until she became blind drunk and passed out. Not long afterward, after trying everything she could to bring back the memories of her then-forgotten husband, the landlord poked his head in one evening to her flat and smelled gas going. She had been weeping for hours in her rickety old chair, until he finally came in and found her dead. From an "accidental" suicide.
Yes, "accidental". Hmm, that's pretty suspicious if you ask me. I'm sure that the landlord didn't really want to say the exact cause of her death, in detail, as it was a very Victorian thing not to, especially under the circumstances that it occurred. It's pretty obvious what happened though. And it really makes sense if you ponder on it for a little while.
That whole story haunted me, and still does, I was sitting there in the school lunch room reading this section from They All Played Ragtime with looks of astonishment and true amazement on my face. It left me in thought of it the rest of the day.
Now onto the "other thoughts" part of my post. I was doing some general research on Rag-Time composers in the book Rags and Ragtime by Trebor Tichenor and Dave Jasen, and I came across a section that mentioned early recorded Rag-Time on 78s and cylinders. This of which, I was unaware of, as Virginia Tichenor had told me that her father was much more interested in the published music of the Rag-Time field, rather than the way it was recorded. What she really said, was that Trebor had not studied the recordings, but he had a reasonable knowledge of what was what and what records were actually labelled as "Rag-Time" or were classic rags that could easily be spotted by collectors of all kinds. At the end of page 27 in Rags and Ragtime it is stated this:
"Some of the irregular idiosyncrasies can be heard in those folk performances recorded on 78's and piano rolls, where undoubtedly a few playing characteristics were lost(probably in the way of bass patterns), but the rag was destined to become more formalized, a disciplined form of broader and more varied expression"
That is very much true, even if the authors of this book did not study these earliest recording very meticulously. The piano rolls were no doubt where most of their specialty resided, as this is not only evidenced in the book, but also from the spoken accounts of people that once knew them well. After I read this section, all I could think of is only if I knew Trebor to talk with him about the great Rag-Time styles of Frank P. Banta and Fred Hylands, which I'm sure that he knew of them briefly, as he has been said to have at least one piece by Hylands in his vast collection of Rag-Time music, and possibly a few more. He was very much correct in the fact that those examples of recorded folk Rag-Time being mostly from those early eccentric pianists, just like Hylands for example. He may not have thought of suggesting Hylands in this spectrum of speech, as Hylands was a name that very few knew of in the time of the book's publication, which was 1978. Only less than a handful of record collectors knew of Hylands at all, or had ever mentioned his name in anything of their collecting. That was the time when anyone who ever knew who Hylands was only listed him like this on a long series of long articles about other early recording stars:
"Hylands, Frederick-Pianist"
That was it. That was all you would on him decades ago, up until rather recently. They wouldn't even say what record company(or companies!) he worked for or what he was known for! If any of you are one of those pioneer collectors who had any knowledge of Hylands before the 1990's, please make a comment on this post and share what you know with me!
I am really on a quest now to find out where the information of Fred Hylands' role in the recording business came from, other than the issues of The Phonoscope , as I have vaguely been told that some of it came from newspapers briefly stating his line of work, and being known for it. He was presumably known for being a " phone"(as Graphophone goes that is!) studio pianist, just like Frank P. Banta, who was given the label "the celebrated pianist of Phonograph Fame"(from the front cover of Banta's own "Ragged William"). Since Banta was given that title by 1899, that would mean that Hylands would get a similar one, whatever it happened to be, a little bit before that.
Please help me find the origins of Hylands' recognition as a studio pianist from sources other than The Phonoscope! All comments read clearly and will be replied to quick!
What was said about all the general information on Harney was nothing new to me, but when I got toward the end of his life, that's when I really got surprised. I knew somewhat that he was pretty much broke in the last few years after his life, as he was forced to end his days of performing. But he was still seen on the stage in varying places in the 20's, as he can be seen in this astonishing photograph below:
(that's old man Harney in the tailcoat!)
My head exploded when I saw this. I could not believe what I was looking at. The source of this amazing photograph came from this extremely informative article here.(enjoy the article!)I just read the article listed in the link above, and learned a few new things about Harney that I did not know, but am not surprised to hear of them.
His last few years were pretty bleak, living in a crappy old flat in a not-so-great part of town, with only the money from unions to keep them in line somewhat. It was just him and his wife Jesse by that time. The landlord of their building kept a close eye and ear on them for the years that they lived there, as they were an interesting couple to listen to. He said that they were still on the whole "actor's hours" thing, which meant that they were always up all night and asleep the whole of the day, even if they weren't out performing and such. He said that they'd be up all night exchanging conversation and stories from their performing days, and sometimes telling other people's stories.
But when Ben died "Her big Fancy Man" as his dear Jesse called him, she went pretty mad. Similar to that episode of "The Twilight Zone" where that absolutely mad film actress Barbara Trenton cannot move forward in times because of her unhealthy clinging to her glory days. This scenario is very much similar to Jesse Harney not being able to rid of the past, with her "Big fancy Man Ben".
She was said to have gone to her husband's unmarked grave every day after he died, and marked the days as well. She could easily have been taken for completely insane as she raved on about him in the long midnight hours, crying out for him, with not much to remember him with anyhow. Without his company, she just did not want to suffer much longer. She must have done things like drink the things that he did when they were together, until she became blind drunk and passed out. Not long afterward, after trying everything she could to bring back the memories of her then-forgotten husband, the landlord poked his head in one evening to her flat and smelled gas going. She had been weeping for hours in her rickety old chair, until he finally came in and found her dead. From an "accidental" suicide.
Yes, "accidental". Hmm, that's pretty suspicious if you ask me. I'm sure that the landlord didn't really want to say the exact cause of her death, in detail, as it was a very Victorian thing not to, especially under the circumstances that it occurred. It's pretty obvious what happened though. And it really makes sense if you ponder on it for a little while.
That whole story haunted me, and still does, I was sitting there in the school lunch room reading this section from They All Played Ragtime with looks of astonishment and true amazement on my face. It left me in thought of it the rest of the day.
Now onto the "other thoughts" part of my post. I was doing some general research on Rag-Time composers in the book Rags and Ragtime by Trebor Tichenor and Dave Jasen, and I came across a section that mentioned early recorded Rag-Time on 78s and cylinders. This of which, I was unaware of, as Virginia Tichenor had told me that her father was much more interested in the published music of the Rag-Time field, rather than the way it was recorded. What she really said, was that Trebor had not studied the recordings, but he had a reasonable knowledge of what was what and what records were actually labelled as "Rag-Time" or were classic rags that could easily be spotted by collectors of all kinds. At the end of page 27 in Rags and Ragtime it is stated this:
"Some of the irregular idiosyncrasies can be heard in those folk performances recorded on 78's and piano rolls, where undoubtedly a few playing characteristics were lost(probably in the way of bass patterns), but the rag was destined to become more formalized, a disciplined form of broader and more varied expression"
That is very much true, even if the authors of this book did not study these earliest recording very meticulously. The piano rolls were no doubt where most of their specialty resided, as this is not only evidenced in the book, but also from the spoken accounts of people that once knew them well. After I read this section, all I could think of is only if I knew Trebor to talk with him about the great Rag-Time styles of Frank P. Banta and Fred Hylands, which I'm sure that he knew of them briefly, as he has been said to have at least one piece by Hylands in his vast collection of Rag-Time music, and possibly a few more. He was very much correct in the fact that those examples of recorded folk Rag-Time being mostly from those early eccentric pianists, just like Hylands for example. He may not have thought of suggesting Hylands in this spectrum of speech, as Hylands was a name that very few knew of in the time of the book's publication, which was 1978. Only less than a handful of record collectors knew of Hylands at all, or had ever mentioned his name in anything of their collecting. That was the time when anyone who ever knew who Hylands was only listed him like this on a long series of long articles about other early recording stars:
"Hylands, Frederick-Pianist"
That was it. That was all you would on him decades ago, up until rather recently. They wouldn't even say what record company(or companies!) he worked for or what he was known for! If any of you are one of those pioneer collectors who had any knowledge of Hylands before the 1990's, please make a comment on this post and share what you know with me!
I am really on a quest now to find out where the information of Fred Hylands' role in the recording business came from, other than the issues of The Phonoscope , as I have vaguely been told that some of it came from newspapers briefly stating his line of work, and being known for it. He was presumably known for being a " phone"(as Graphophone goes that is!) studio pianist, just like Frank P. Banta, who was given the label "the celebrated pianist of Phonograph Fame"(from the front cover of Banta's own "Ragged William"). Since Banta was given that title by 1899, that would mean that Hylands would get a similar one, whatever it happened to be, a little bit before that.
Please help me find the origins of Hylands' recognition as a studio pianist from sources other than The Phonoscope! All comments read clearly and will be replied to quick!
I hope you enjoyed this!
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