New Year's Eve Columbia style, and etc.

Well, it is now the year 2016 in many parts of the world already, for our Australian friends, and European friends, the now year has just passed, and I wish a happy new year to all of those who have already counted down for the new year. I just saw a wonderful movie to-day, called "The Hateful Eight" and it was full of Quentin Tarantino's film genius, from the violence to the geeky historical puns. It is not a movie for everyone, but for those who can take a whole lot of blood contrasted with beautiful shots of the Colorado Rockies, have at it! Make sure you go to a 70mm showing of it, that's the way to see it at its best! 

Well, enough of that sort of that off-subject mush! Since it's a quiet evening for our home this new year's eve, I am thinking of all of the parties that many people all over the world are commencing. Thinking backward, what about an end-of-the-year exhibition at Columbia? That must have been a real riot! I can see all of the Columbia staff at one of their expensive gatherings at one of the many famous hotels of Manhattan, all dressed up in their tails, silks and satins, and for some reason all with "Columbia" caps on. 

By these caps, I mean the one that Lady Columbia has on her head on all of their cylinder boxes:

Or maybe those caps that were worn during the French Revolution:

They're pretty much the same thing anyhow. You know what I'm trying to say. 

The only reason that this comes to mind when thinking of a big party of Columbia staff members is because of the fact that they would keep the "Columbia" theme pretty prominent at all of their exhibitions, so there isn't really a reason why they wouldn't do the same thing at one of these parties. The caps notion is comical anyway,  thinking of Len Spencer, Roger Harding, Steve Porter, Billy Golden, and Fred Hylands all wearing those caps is just hilarious. Much to the nature of Len Spencer, it would be likely that he would organise one of these gatherings, and he would pay for it with Harry and their mother Sara. 

Any of these gatherings might have just been a performance by all of the artists for the Easton's(the highest management there!), many of which had been documented in issues of The Phonoscope. 

(lots of typos sorry...)

These sort of things were lavish gatherings, for obvious reasons, as they often chose to do these at the Waldorf Hotel, and in the late-1890's, that hotel was about as "gilded age" as you could get. Every room was adorned with the finest of whatever theme that took that room. I have heard of rooms that had oriental sort of themes, one that had a palm tree theme, with hundreds of palm trees in a single room, and one that was a revival of the reign of Louis XIV. It must have been a swell affair, the kind that those pieces of sheet music from that time describe where the "society leaders" would come and have "a hot time" with all the finery that could be offered. And with hope, Fred Hylands(or Len Spencer!) was able to control his drinking better than he did in the studio, since so much of the most expensive drinks were offered at these performances/parties. Going to one of these gatherings must have been better than one of their exhibitions. 

To go in a little different direction, I am listening to an interesting record by Edward M. Favor as I'm writing this:

Favor in 1893.

The record I am listening to is his rendition of "Bedelia" from 1903. You can hear it toward the top of the page here. The reason that I find this record interesting is because of how much the orchestra slows down at the second chorus. It's really noticeable! Since I hear Hylands on the piano on the orchestra, I am not the least bit surprised that this can be heard on the record. That was sometimes a problem with Hylands, as can clearly be heard by how many times he was out-of-sync with the main artist featured on the record. This did not help when Hylands was in their house orchestra. There are many examples that have this problem by the Columbia orchestra, or early Columbia's with orchestra accompaniment for that matter. You can hear an example of Hylands once again slowing down in the middle of a verse here.

It's so weird, Frank Banta never had that problem. Even if Hylands generally had better rhythm than Banta, he never had that slowing down problem. 

I hope you all listened to that take 3 of Leachman's "Whoa Dar Mule" from my last post! I still cannot identify what that sound is.

Well, that's about as much as I want to say for now, happy New Year everyone! 

Pianist Preferences, and other things

I was just listening to many of my early records from my collection this evening, and I realise how much I can really tune out the main parts on the records, and really only listen to the piano closely. It makes me think about how these singers and instrumentalists thought about the pianists behind them. 
Dan W. Quinn had quite a close love and respect for Frank P. Banta, in fact he preferred Banta as his accompanist on most records that he was on, but that was not always possible. There were other pianists Quinn had to deal with. 

How he loved his piano man Frank(musically! Don't take that the wrong way!)

He did, of course, have to work with big burly Hylands just as much as he did with Banta. He couldn't just drag Banta in to every recording session he had! He had to accommodate, and deal with it. He must have also enjoyed Hylands' playing, as it was hard not to, and he must have been a real sight to see when he played anyhow. Hylands just happened to be at a lot of Victor recording sessions, and Columbia's as well. This first example is a great early Victor with Quinn being able to deal with Hylands here.(the music starts at 1:35)

The record in the link above is a very interesting Victor, as it's one of those rare ones from 1900 a year before they were actually called "Victors". Is that that the speed of the record is all over the place though, as it's a great early one. The only reason I am sure that it's Hylands behind him is because of the solo at the end. The solo at the end is very laid back in rhythm, very danceable(if needed), Ragged in some aspects, and full of octaves! The whole record is like that anyhow, and the deep octaves are very audible throughout. Hylands worked for Berliner occasionally when this record was recorded, so it would make sense that he would be on this record. Though, most of Quinn's Victor's after 1900 were with Banta's accompaniment, because he wanted Banta, and it was clear to all the staff there that this was a need of his. Most of the Victors with piano accompaniment by Quinn after 1900 have Banta on piano, and it is not surprising why, here are a few of them:
Quinn singing "Bill Bailey" with Banta( transferred too fast though...)

http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002290/Pre-matrix_B-3149-I_aint_agoin_to_weep_no_more

Quinn with one of his famous "Vaudeville Specialties", also with Banta

We know Len Spencer. Yes indeed we do. 

This next section will be about his pianist preferences. It might be a little obvious what pianist he wanted behind him, yes indeed--

Freddy Hylands. 

He really had the sort of affinity with Hylands that Quinn had with Banta. He must have loved Hylands' style too much, even if Hylands could steal the attention of the audience almost more than Spencer could, but then again, Spencer had that hair, those eyebrows, and those freaky eyes(there was always fat Hylands with his shocky red hair though!). Hylands even wrote three of his 1899 compositions dedicated to and with Spencer, and that's saying a lot, because Hylands only wrote about 20 things in all(possibly more though...). You can hear one of these tunes by Spencer and Hylands here. I cannot find the cover of the music for that one in the link, but I know of this one(which Spencer also recorded with Hylands):

Yep. That's Hylands music alright. (I wonder who did the cover art...)

Hylands and Spencer on records sounded like they were always having fun with each other, even at those times where Hylands seemed to be rather tipsy, and that must have made for a better time anyhow. Hylands being unruly was not a problem for Spencer, as he was the only "regular" at Columbia that could stand Hylands drunk and sober. Spencer understood Hylands, and all of his antics, even if he could get pretty rough after many takes and drinks, it was worth the time as long as good takes were made. In 1899 of course, Spencer and Hylands would get out of the studio early to go off to the publishing firm, where Burt Green would already be waiting for them. 

The next artist I would like to speak of leads into another subject. 
Silas Leachman:

Leachman would take Hylands over Banta for sure, as he had known Hylands  in Chicago back in the mid-1890's. He already knew of Hylands' wonderful playing, and got along with him reasonably well anyhow. Leachman's Victors are, in my opinion, among the most interesting records of the piano accompaniment era(1889-1905). Each Victor of his had its own surprises and eccentricities that make each one charming, and fascinating to study. The many takes of most of his recordings also make for curious study. He really didn't make that many, but the amount of extra takes make up for that fact. The one tune of Leachman's that I would like to focus on are his three takes of "Whoa Dar Mule". Here is the link to all three takes.
All three takes are very different, and strange in their own ways. Leachman sings the song different each take, with slightly altered lyrics, and also different tones of voice. The piano is very different on the third take from the first two, VERY different. Does anyone notice that weird dog-like sound on the third take? What is that? I have listened to take 3 many times, and I still cannot figure out what that could be(it sounds like a piano-related problem though, whatever it happens to be). I have many theories as to who the pianist could be on these three, the first two might be a more sober Hylands, and the third one might be a much more drunk Hylands. 
But then again, the first two could be Banta, and the third could be Hylands. 
All I have to say, is that there is no way that Banta is on the third one, from what can be heard on it, they are not the jolty stylings of Banta. They are much too loose and eccentric to be Banta, also because Hylands was present at most of Leachman's early December sessions at Victor. Just for a comparison, here is another record that Leachman made on the same day as takes 1 and 2:
http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002496/Pre-matrix_B-3353-Maybe_Mary_didnt_see_New_York
It's not a rough Rag-Time piece, but it's still similar to the two takes of "Whoa Dar Mule". 
And another:
http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002497/Pre-matrix_B-3354-I_need_the_money
It's a little more Ragged and jumpy, but I'm still lost on the pianist identification. I'm now starting to lean more toward Hylands, but then I could listen to these records again in a few days and think Banta once again. This is exactly why Leachman's Victors are so interesting! This is why record collectors get into nasty bidding battles over Leachman records. 
Another thing I have noticed about one Leachman recording date is the December 7 date. When looking at many of Leachman's records, it would seem that he re-recorded many of his best songs on December 7, 1901. Seeing that got me a little suspicious, there must have been a reason for that, and I am not sure at all of what that might be. I just know that Hylands was at both December 6 and 7 sessions, and that might have something to do with it... Hmm...
On one of the record listings, it says "Made in Hall". What does that mean? I haven't the least idea. It must have something to do with an unusual recording room, or something else maybe. The December 7 recording date is really a captivating one in the mix of already perplexing recording sessions. I can only find one recording from the Dec. 7 date online, a few of them were issued, but a few weren't issued as well, so I will continue to dig through friends' collections for takes recorded on December 7, 1901 by Leachman. You don't have to memorize the record numbers with Leachman records, because they are usually able to be seen etched on in the middle of the records under the label, you just have to have a flashlight or something to see it clearly. From owning a single Leachman record, I know of this very well. 

If anyone can identify that weird sound on take 3 of Leachman's "Whoa Dar Mule", please tell me!

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Fred. Hylands in the studio, and the old Piano Chair

I know that what's in the title of this post is something that I do speak of very much on this blog, but I had a great long conversation last evening coming back from Sacramento. It made me think about old studios and Fred Hylands just slightly differently, but it was just wonderful. Anyhow, I spoke of all the notions of unregulated studios in the 1890's, and I know that is a special item of interest on my blog, because it is something that record collectors who own brown wax cylinders or even early discs do not take into consideration when listening to them. This is why the piano accompaniment aspect of the old records is so interesting, because it's an unexplored realm in this field, and also because it's much more convoluted than it would seem. They weren't just "second fiddle'' in those studios. 

Anyhow, I got to talking about how Hylands was like working at Columbia, with certain artists, and with his pay(that he complained so much about!), and from what my dear friend Virginia said, she said that somehow, Hylands' ego was oppressed when working for Columbia, because sometimes you can even hear some sort of musical argument on some of these records that he's behind a singer or featured instrumentalist. This was a big problem with Hylands and Vess Ossman:

(Vess, c.1894)

Yes, that was a little bit of a problematic duo at Columbia, and sometimes even at Victor. Just take into consideration that Vess had an ego that filled the room when he entered the studio, and he was always THE performer, not just a part of what records were being made. That was a problem when Hylands was there at the piano, as Hylands also had the same sort of ego with him, so those many Hylands and Ossman Columbia sessions can sound like a musical battle half the time. Why? Well, Hylands was often out of sync with Ossman, and was playing all sorts of frivolous Rag-Time things that didn't exactly match with what Ossman was playing. That was especially a problem when Hylands played his syncopated improvisations in the same register that Ossman was playing in. I just got a record yesterday that represents all of these aspects, here it is: 

Hear this record here.

It is a record where Hylands and Ossman are at subliminal battle within the music.There are times where Hylands was tame and modest behind Ossman, where he did as he was really meant to behind a banjo player. Banta was just better at this in general, because he was a much more modest and accommodating accompanist. Hylands was used to attention, and that was what he expected to get when began working at Columbia. Hylands was, no matter what, "second fiddle" there at Columbia, because he was an accompanist, and that's what purpose he served while there. 

Here are a few Ossman and Hylands examples  just to understand what point I'm trying to make:

G. L. Lansing's "The Darkies' Dream" recorded in 1898(announcement by Len Spencer)

Thomas Hindley's "Patrol Comique", recorded in 1903

"Sounds from Africa" recorded in 1898

E. Harry Kelly's "Peaceful Henry" recorded in 1903

Harry Von Tilzer's "Whoa Bill" from 1902

Kerry Mills' "Whistling Rufus" recorded in extremely late 1899

If you're still not really convinced, go out and dig up some more Ossman and Hylands records yourself and take a close listen or two.  They're not the most uncommon records around. You just won't find the pianist listed. 

Ossman must have found Hylands' drinking in the studio laughable, and unruly, Vess must have commented one time between a take in 1898 or 1899 something like this:

"Fred, why is it that you drink in this studio, when you could just sound your best all the time?"

(Fred) "Sylvester, I sound best all of the time. No matter if a drink has come to me or not." 

Yes indeed, that would sound about right. I would bet that many of Columbia's featured artists asked Fred the same thing, and got a reply that is a variant of what is written above. J. W. Myers must have demanded that Hylands be sober when he came in. Now onto J. W. Myers.

Yes indeed, J. W. Myers, the Welsh "diva". 

What I just said about Myers being a diva pretty much sums up Hylands and Myers altogether. Myers expected much of Hylands, and he obeyed, but it is certain that Hylands hated Myers for being such a demanding singer, and telling him what to do specifically. Here is one that you can kind of hear it, with Hylands playing all sorts of things behind Myers, trying to get his attention from the listener:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder10590

There are few times where the piano accompaniment can seem slightly more penetrating than the voice on records, but the one just above is one of them, and that is what happened much more with Hylands, as I don't really know of a time where Banta had that problem. Not surprisingly, Hylands had this problem at Victor, with Silas Leachman singing. Leachman was undoubtedly a genius, but so was Hylands, so it made those Victor sessions quite a powerful mix. Hylands alternated with Banta for those Leachman sessions, so when one finds a Leachman Victor, it could be either one of the two on piano behind him. 

Speaking of Hylands and Leachman, I was just at my friend Tom Hawthorn's home last evening, and I dug through much of his stash of Leachman's. While doing this, I found two takes of Leachman's "Don't You Hear Dem Bells", and of course, I took both of them to the phonograph upstairs. I listened to both of them, and the first one was take 1, and the second was take 5. Take 3 had been my favourite before I found take 5, but when I heard take 5, I was confused by the piano playing. Before I get into details,here is a link to takes 1 and 3.

The thing that was so fascinating about take 5(which is numbered Victor 803), was that the piano playing slowed down so much! It was bad enough on take 3(listen above), but on this one, there was whole new kind of weird. I stood at the mouth of the horn for ten minutes trying to figure out what was going on with the piano accompaniment. I would have a transfer of it here, but I do not own the record. That must have been Hylands! I knew it by how slow it was, and how loose the playing was, that it had to be Hylands. This record is another great example of Hylands wanting his attention, even if Leachman himself was quite a singer who could keep anyone's attention easily. Just for a comparison with the last one listed, here is Leachman with Banta doing Harney's "Mister Johnson Turn me Loose". Compare that with take 3 of "Hear Dem Bells" by Leachman, with Hylands. 

Now, Hylands did indeed at least once acted unruly around each singer or instrumentalist he accompanied, as he would either take a disliking to them, or would be so broken up from working that he would drink terribly, which also brought on the unruly side of him. Sometimes one can wonder what Ed Easton thought of Hylands at first, before they hired him in 1897. He must not have known that Hylands would drink if he felt he was overworked, or have such specific wants from where he worked. Hylands must have just charmed Easton and Emerson so much when they took him in for some tests. They knew he was the right person for the job as their pianist, even if they had no idea of the kind of trouble they would run into with him later. 

Speaking of these troubles that the Columbia management ran into, they must not have realised that their piano chair wasn't the best fit for their new pianist. Take a look at their piano chair in 1897:

(from the July, 1898 issue of The Phonoscope)

That chair must not have been in good luck when Hylands first came in. It's legs probably creaked and cracked upon first holding up 300 pounds of Fred Hylands. The studio workers must have gasped quietly in the distance, worrying terribly for that chair, that had only endured Fred Gaisberg, Frank Banta, and George Schweinfest before that. After a few sessions with that suffering chair creaking terribly, they at last got rid of it, by whatever means it took to kill this worrisome chair. Whether by burning, beating to pieces, or just simply selling it to another company. There is not a doubt in my mind that the chair from the picture above would have been a problem when Hylands began to work there. One can only imagine how the engineers got rid of that chair. It would be great if we could actually see the piano chair in this picture here:

Can anyone see it? I doubt it(cause I can't!). I just know that Hylands is there looking out to the rest of the band  at the piano. I am not sure who everyone else is, but I'm assuming there are members of the Columbia orchestra there, like Tom Clark, and George Schweinfest. If anyone can identify anyone else, please tell me! 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Digby Bell and other Rare performers on records

Digby Bell(1849-1917), only made a single record for Edison in 1909, and six records for Victor in 1909 as well. I am amazed at how some of these record companies searched around for many of these old performers who were popular in the 1870's, 80's, and early 90's, and were able to have them record. It is similar to how the Edison company got an older Jules Levy(a famous Victorian cornetist) to record a single record in 1896, the year that he died. 

Digby Bell was a popular dramatic/comical performer of the late 1870's and 1880's, who was a Gilbert and Sullivan actor, and a dramatic actor, much to the likeness of DeWolf Hopper. Bell's voice boomed in Victor and Edison's studios, as can be heard from the few that exist now, and from what was captured, Bell was a true Victorian speaker and monologuist. You hear Bell's one Edison cylinder Here. And here is one of his six Victors from the same year. What a wonderful and rare voice! His records are fascinating to listen to, and they are very similar to DeWolf Hopper's also very few but penetrating records. 

Hopper might be a familiar name to more than record collectors, as he was the man who introduced and was famous for "Casey at the Bat", and for being a very complicated character. Hopper's recordings made in the acoustic era were made very strategically. From what you can hear on his 1906 recording of "Casey at the Bat", he stood VERY FAR away from the horn. The echoes of the Victor room are almost eerie when Hopper rose his voice in the middle of a monologue. The disc could barely take the volume and power in Hopper's voice. 

There's Hopper, around 1887. Now since I keep describing the record, here's Hopper's 1906 recording of "Casey at the Bat". How his voice boomed! I don't know of any other speaker's voice that made such an effect in Victor's studio. The only other recording by Hopper that's available online is this extraordinary cylinder from 1890. I am astounded that this cylinder exists. And it sounds great for its age! Some cylinders like this just survive the odds, and still manage to sound decent, it's amazing really.  Anyhow, back to Hopper. Hopper did not record any of his famous songs from Sousa's El Capitan, but Len Spencer did. From the Columbia record list seen here, you can see that Spencer recorded ALL of the songs from El Capitan, imitating Hopper's voice and vocal style as well. You can now see why Hopper was imitated by so many other singers in his day. 
Yes indeed, all the singers who were on early records were all performers, and all popular ones too, but some were almost more perfect as performers before the recording horns, such as both of the Spencer's. 

The next performer I would like to speak of is May Irwin: 

May Irwin was really the most popular "Rag" singer before it was an official craze in 1897, as she was singing all of Ben Harney's hits in 1895 and 1896, when there wasn't yet a name for this type of syncopated music. It seemed inevitable that the studio managers would have Irwin record sooner or later, but it just took a while for Victor to get her in their studio. It took until 1907 for Victor to finally have her sing for their gramophones. You can hear all of her Victors on this playlist of records here. Irwin was a fantastic performer in the studio, more so than many of the booming voices before. She wasn't too loud for the horns, nor was she too quiet, she still had to stand slightly far from the edge of the horn, but not several feet away like DeWolf Hopper. She recorded three of her long-time signature songs at that one 1907 session, including her most famous "Bully Song" from 1896. That song was recorded countless times by all the studio stars back in the 1890's, but getting Irwin herself to finally record it was making it sound just as it was supposed to sound, even if it was over ten years after she made a "hit" with it on the stage. Sometimes is can be surprising to hear so many racial slurs in a single song, like her "Bully Song", and most of her other recordings. But those "coon" songs were what she was know for, so there was not a doubt that when they got her in to record, that she would have to sing her signature songs. Which just happened to be "Coon songs". 

The last performer I would like to speak of is a pair actually, and they are ones I have spoken of on this blog before.
Irene Franklin and Burt Green

I know I have spoken many times of these two, but they were just so great on this records they made! These two were a thing that the record companies took great pride in having them in their studios, because it took effort to get them off the stage for such a short time to make a few records. They were a very popular act on the stages all over the U. S. from New York to San Francisco, doing all sorts of songs, and not just the ones that they wrote, which were one of the main attractions of their act. It's odd though, of the few Edison cylinders they made, they didn't record their biggest hit, which was "Redhead", they only did that on Columbia. I don't know why, but that was just how it turned out. When the studio managers decided that they would record Irene Franklin, they couldn't skip out on Burt Green, as his piano accompaniment was part of the act, so inevitably, they had Burt come in and play piano behind Franklin. Burt wasn't exactly the most amazing pianist on the vaudeville stage, but he certainly had a great ear for Rag-Time, and imitating the best of the best that he eloped with in vaudeville. He and Irene worked perfectly together, as they were both imperfect performers in their own obvious ways. 
Here is their signature song "Redhead" recorded in September of 1915.
What a queer record! It's so odd, but fascinating! Burt's piano accompaniment is still reminiscent of his old friend Fred Hylands(who mind you had been dead for two years when this was recorded!), with all of those single deep bass notes, some older-sounding syncopation, and of course, all of those trills! That little thing in the middle where Burt plays that crazy little thing with messy notes, that's also reminiscent of Hylands, and of earlier vaudeville. It has such a weird chorus though, those chord changes are so frequent and almost hard to keep up with, and he played those fifths in his left hand octaves, which is very characteristic of mid-western pianists. It's so odd to hear a pianist like him play those fifths, but if you're really listening closely to the piano accompaniment you can hear it. This isn't like listening to a brown wax cylinder with Hylands on piano where you can't really hear all the notes, this was recorded in 1915, when the technology was much more advanced for some reason.

 And ya know what, now that I really get to listen closely to the piano, I think it's the same one that Hylands once played on! That's really interesting! that would make some sense, as it was recorded for Columbia anyhow, and they wouldn't have had to use it since 1906, and between '06 and 1915 they would have only used it maybe a handful of times. 
When Burt got "Redhead" published in 1908(or maybe just before it), Fred must have come to him once again and told him what he thought of the song, as well as Burt's new lady friend. Fred must have laughed at it, approvingly of course! Being a redhead, Fred must have loved it, and he probably played it through for Burt, giving him new ideas like always. 

I will be doing another one of these performer record posts eventually, including singers like Sophie Tucker, Arthur Pryor, the Sousa Band, and more.

I hope you enjoyed this!  

New Discoveries and a big thank you!

(this was some day learning about Fred and Etta Hylands!) 

Oh what a day I've had! And I am still mesmerized by the amount of information that was shared and given to me. It was all extraordinary! Some wonderful ladies helped me out to-day, and they weren't just any ladies, they were the descendants of Fred Hylands. Not direct, but descending from Fred's notorious sister Etta.

 I was just doing as I usually do on the computer this morning, until I saw the first e-mail, which was from a lovely young lady by the name of Ali, who stated that she was the great-great-great-grand niece of Fred Hylands. How I just exploded when I read that e-mail! I was shaking with excitement, and got into a long conversation with these two sisters who both descend directly from Etta Hylands. It would seem that the tradition of piano playing is still prominent in the family that once bore the Hylands name, which is wonderful from the perspective of a musician. I would wonder the same thing about the Ossman's, even if they're not necessarily interested in playing the banjo, just music of any kind. 

It is also a pleasure to know the family of the Quinn's, and those people are absolutely on top of everything about Dan Quinn, and all of his family history, as that new CD that Archeophone put out on Dan Quinn very much prove that fact. 

I still cannot really fathom that such a popular recording star as Fred Hylands could go forgotten for so many years, as the ladies I spoke with to-day hadn't even a notion of Fred's extensive and rather long recording career. That says quite a lot. I was already aware of how obscure Hylands is to record collectors, and those who are record people who follow this blog, probably never had heard of him until they found any one of my posts on Hylands, or just anything I wrote about on early studio pianists. It's unfortunate really, because he worked much more in the studios than any of the singers he accompanied(other than Len Spencer), and working at Columbia took a terrible toll on his already aching body. All the record companies wanted him, even the most obscure Berliner pirate salesmen, who made their own records, and even companies that lasted a few months. Record managers must have fought over him, but he could only be in one studio for a day, so the next day he might have been at a different studio. Anyhow, you've all heard all of this on previous posts. 

**I just had to thank the two wonderful ladies who e-mailed me several times throughout  the day to-day! Thank you thank you thank you! **

A Christmas related post(and new found items of interest!)

Well, It seems to be that time of the year anyhow, and I just had a Christmas party last evening, so I think it's about time that I did a post dedicated to the holiday time that it is now. I know of a few holidays related cylinders/discs, and the one I am thinking of at the moment is the classic rendition of  "The Sleigh Ride Party" by the Greater New York Quartette. You can hear the cylinder here. I am not exactly sure of the personnel on this one, but I hear Steve Porter, Roger Harding, and maybe Len Spencer, but I don't think it's early installment of the quartette. It doesn't really seem like it's 1897 to me, it seems like the second installment of the quartette, with Harding, Porter, Jones and Hargrave, rather than Spencer, Jones, Porter, and Harding. I could be wrong. If it was recorded in later 1897(as suggested in the video), than Spencer would be on the cylinder, if it was from mid-1898, then the second installment of the group would be on it. I hate that this group was so confusing, as Len Spencer couldn't stay with a single group for very long, and he was making too many solo records to make time for singing in the Greater Quartette regularly. 

But of course, I have to say, listen to Fred Hylands on the piano behind them! You know he was loving this round, because it was such a fun selection anyhow! 

It must have been so much fun at Columbia in the late 1890's around Christmas time, as all the exhibitions must have been all decorated for the holidays, and they must have all had a good time(like they always did!), popping open champagne and such. Anything they did at Columbia around Christmas must have been really fun! Even if it must have been freezing cold in late 1897, 1898, and 1899, it still must have been enjoyable despite that. They'd all just have to show up to the studio all bundled up in their furs and capes.  One can just see some of them come in through the front doors of their studio(on the second floor of an office building mind you), dusted with powdered snow on the collars and shoulders of their sealskin coats, and shivering from the snow and cold. It can also be imagined the few studio workers who went down to the basement to fire up the furnace. I can see Hylands and Spencer going to to that, with Spencer trying to get a damn match lit in the wet cold air. It must have been a great sight, everyone all dressed up, awaiting anxiously for the furnace to get the place warm, and for all the artists to thaw their frost-bitten fingers and toes.

Edison's studio must have been a similar story, even if it wasn't as welcoming and warm-atmosphered(if you know what I'm saying!). There, you get Walter Miller with his foggy glasses, Frank Banta almost freezing himself to death behind the piano, before each take trying to get his hands warm. Edison's studio was colder for a longer time in the days, as the furnace was only certain areas of the whole plant, and it was not very close to the main studio. At least at Columbia the whole space wasn't very big, so the studio rooms themselves would get warm. 

Anyhow, enough about the visual of Columbia around Christmas time, which I hope was a good description for all of this, I think you get the point. Back to some records! 

This next one is actually another take of the last one, but by a different quartet, and this time, it's the Invincible Quartet. This group consisted of Arthur Collins, Byron Harlan, George Seymour Lennox, and Frank Stanley. Here is their rendition of Steve Porter's "Sleigh Ride Party". This one is from 1902, and it again has Fred Hylands on the piano behind them. That must have also been a fun session! Those quartet sessions when they did those sketches must have been a riot, with all sorts of things going on at once. This must have been the case with many of Porter's sketches for quartets. 

For this next record that is Christmas/winter related, it is time to listen to something by Silas Leachman

The title of the song is not really Christmas related, but the song itself is about riding in a sleigh in the falling snow, in the winter. It just seems like one of those holiday songs for some reason. Anyhow, here is Leachman and Banta's(?) "Whoa Dar Mule" from 1901. The jingle bells paired with "Hear Dem Bells" is really great, and the piano accompaniment is fantastic! I am unsure who the pianist is, I am really on the fence about this one, it's more likely Hylands though. Just somehow, that record seems like it works for the holidays, I don't know why, but it does for some reason. 

Here is another fun Christmas record by Burt Shepard

Yes indeed, the mysterious Burt Shepard. Anyhow, here is his wonderful rendition of "The Robin", with all his annunciations clear as a bell. Not much needs to be said here, as everything is said to the fullest by Shepard. 

Now to get a little off-subject, I found some interesting pictures in this last week, that I must share. Just to-day, I found another picture of Burt Green! 
Here you go:

Sorry it's so small. But that's it! There's a clearer image of Green from about 1910. He was a real good-looking guy! Seeing him more clearly makes the image of him and Hylands going out and drinking even more hilarious! Here's a small image of Hylands to get that image:

Yes, I can imagine it now... And how funny it is! 

Anyhow, here's the next picture I found this week:

(found from this stunningly informative website here!)

I bet some of you might be able to guess who this is. If you do know, that is awesome! If not, it's Russell Hunting. There's a million things that came into my head when I first saw this picture, I first saw the reminiscence of his Shakespearean days in his stare, and his tired and worn eyes. The next important thing that struck me is that there's a stamp on the left side of the picture, so that indicates that this was most likely his passport photo. That gives more of a focused date somewhat, indicating the early 1910's. Either way, I absolutely love this picture, and is pretty much sums up Russell Hunting. Not much needs to be said, as that look on his face says everything. He wasn't ashamed of his criminal past, and you can tell. 

Anyhow, these next two pictures go together, as they are both of Columbia's high official/paymaster Frank Dorian(also from the website listed in the link above!):

in 1892

and in 1894
Ahh yes, Frank Dorian, that man from Columbia when they began in 1889, who was their first paymaster and studio manager. He looked very stereotypical Victorian, and it almost made me laugh at how Victorian he looks! His facial hair says all of the Victorian jargon, and him recalling the old studio days as an older man. He later had a moustache though, which was also very Victorian-looking. He was the man who set up the Paris office for Columbia in August/September of 1897, which was a big thing for them, as this is why at one point in later 1897, we record nerds hear "For the Columbia Phonograph company of New York and Paris" as the announcement closer. Frank Dorian recalled much of his early recording days in the 1930's, when he was still working with Columbia vaguely, and giving advice to all of those new-fangled electric era recording engineers. I still want to see all of the interviews that Jim Walsh had with Dorian, as I have read only sections of them, and they're all great! If anyone knows how to find those in full, please contact me! 

And to close off, here are two of Burt Green and Irene Franklin's record from 1912(with Burt on piano! Sounding just like Hylands as always!):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fab97EcWDRw

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder13864

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! And happy holidays to all, no matter what it is you celebrate! Stay warm ;-D (because it's terribly cold out here in California right now!)

Character Studies---Columbia Exhibitions(1898)

The Columbia exhibition, a joyous spectacle full of mirth and vigor.

(from left to right: Fred Hylands, George P. Watson, John Yorke At Lee, ?, Harry Spencer, and Russell Hunting)

They were truly sights to only be seen to experience, they were times where not only hustlers like the Spencer brothers could perfect their craft, but where eccentrics like Fred Hylands could warm up their hands and flick around their glossy hair. These exhibitions began every night of the week(not on Sundays of course...), at about 7 in the evening, after setting up had been done for two hour previous, and by 9, they would rotate a new group of people in and maybe leaving some of those from the previous group who wanted to stay in the madness. These performances and rotations of crowds would go on until about midnight. But of course, after that, all the staff there would spend another hour and a half cleaning up, and getting everything set back to how it was before. These were a very tiresome process, that would wear out the artists more than the usual recording days would, which was already a whole lot of work. They were fun to be at, but this was more so for the people that came to witness these great extravaganzas of recorded sound, and not so much for the poor souls behind the horns and performing for the masses. 

It would all start with Russ Hunting and Harry Spencer walking in at about 4 in the evening with the banners and boxes of records. Within the next ten minutes, many of the boys on the bill for the evening would pour in slowly. Next comes yodeler Watson, confident Len Spencer, little Charles P. Lowe with his canvas sacks of rosewood beams for the xylophone, little Roger Harding, "coon shouter" Billy Golden, New Yorker dandy Dan Quinn, and fat Fred Hylands with his black leather case of music with pages protruding from the edges. They would all find their places at the parlor(phonograph parlor that is!), setting their things in various places, with most of their things going on the racks holding the machines with the long horns attached to them. That's where all their hats would go, and their gloves, and their pocketwatches, made of gold, silver, or even rare aluminum. They would look at the bill that one of the Spencer's was hammering on the wall of the front doors, awaiting for the doors to be swung open to all. As they all got settled in, in came the food to be offered to all who came, this week the food was prepared by the Hylands'. This meant that his pleasant wife Maria would come in with the plates, bowls, forks, spoons, glasses, and everything else needed. Usually at these exhibitions, a list was made for according what family would provide the food for these for the week, so one week you could get some interesting stew made by Mrs. Watson(0r Miss Newton...),  the Gaskin's corned beef and cabbage, a feast of bits of everything from the Hylands', the elegant finery of the Spencer's, or something like sauerkraut and sausage from the Schweinfests. When came a week for the Hylands', you would know there would be quite a feast laid out on their table, so dear Maria would have to be preparing for days beforehand with Father Charles Hylands for the week. As Fred and Marie were getting all the food set up, with Fred dressed up nicely, and a cigarette in his mouth, the Spencer's were getting the horns at the exact angles needed for the singers on the bill for the evening, and occasionally yelling at each other for getting something wrong or breaking something.  Steve Porter and George Watson were standing high up on ladders getting the big banner up on the wall, trying dearly to not drop anything, or hurt themselves, with Russ Hunting spotting them, and making sure they get the thing straight.  After two hours of preparing and "herding of cats", at six-on-the-dot, Len would finally get his tails on, fix his hair, go to the front doors, and say "Let 'er rip!" as the doors were opened up. They let in hundreds of people, crowded very densely into a large room, but seemed small by the amount on people that came in. It seemed like chaos, but just as Harry Spencer stood on a stool, and waved around that wooden thing that CLICKS! very obnoxiously, everyone became quiet. He begins his announcement to the crowd about what the whole thing is, and why they were there, and the great amount of enjoyment they can have being there. He would step down from the stool, and Russ Hunting would then get up on it and begin introducing himself, and everyone else they brought, and who was on the bill for the evening. Hunting would introduce the recording process to them, holding up one of their blank brown wax cylinders, and explain the need for absolute silence from the audience during the demonstration. Then the program would begin, with the first artist listed on the bill, where the room would be completely silent as the machine was started by Harry Spencer, and all that could be heard was the machine's hum and whirr... 

Then began the piano accompaniment, Hylands would play the introduction to the song that was announced after the singer's announcement. The song was executed perfectly, with not a sound from the audience until the cylinder was slid off the mandrel and the machine was stopped of its movement. The room again bursts into conversation and cheers. This same process of recording and such would continue for another hour and a half, until an intermission arrives, and all the people disband about the room, and also go outside to get out of the warm and crowded inside. These intermissions were also good for the artists to mingle with the consumers, and the curious spectators, also for Fred Hylands to at last get up and stretch his legs. Many of the conversations with the artists were about what they were paid, how they liked working there, and things related to that. Much of the food and drink would be taken during these intermissions, and many records would be bought and sold, just as the staff members were instructed to do beforehand. At the end of the intermissions, the same process would begin again, with Harry Spencer waving that obnoxious thing around, and Russ Hunting beginning the next hour and a half of recording and explaining. The bill would go on accordingly, with the artists alternating at the front of the horns, and Hunting doing all the explaining, with the artists talking about the records, and making records themselves. There would be three hour and a half sessions, with intermissions, and finally with the final bows and thank yous done just before midnight. there were always a few people who stayed longer to talk with the Spencer's and Russ Hunting, as they were the ones running the thing, and there were always some who stayed longer, and wanted to chat with them without the rest of the crowd there to listen. As the others were cleaning up, mopping the floors, taking down the banners and posters, and getting the things off the racks. Fred would slam the piano key cover, stand from his oddly shaped chair, light up another cigarette, and observe the scene from his perch up high above the floors. Fred would always be the most worn out of the artists there, only because he had to come to every one of these exhibitions, not like the artists on the bill who would rotate in a differing order each few days of these. After a big one of these exhibitions, one of the staff members would bring a celebratory bottle of champagne for everyone, and of course, Fred and Len would be the first to have at it. Fred would gather all his music up, shove it in his case, take off his tails, grab his hat, and get the rest of the plates and bowls off the table with Marie...or he would more likely wait outside for her to get everything together. The Spencer's would gather up all the machinery, get their sacks of parts together, and head out quick, still getting a little frustrated with one another as the parts would click and hit something else as they went out the doors. As Russ Hunting would finally get the last three people out at the end of the ongoing conversation, he would get all that was his and head out quick, maybe helping out Marie Hylands a little. All the other artists were gone by then, leaving only Hunting and the Hylands' getting the rest of the plates and utensils out. Hunting would turn out the electric lights, and slam the doors at last, around 1 a.m. Even though Fred didn't really help her before, he would have to carry some of the plates on their way home. Dreading for the next week of this, thankfully without them providing the food. 


*Much of this description actually was taken from examples of these Columbia exhibitions as written about in The Phonoscope, in which many were described to have provided food, and also to have the artists bring it in themselves*

*a special thank you to Ryan Wishner for giving me the idea to do this! 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Character Studies-- Silas Leachman(1859-1936)

Yes indeed, the man with the rarest perfect pitch a person can inherit. 

 Leachman had a famous great ear for music, and he was considered a freak for how good it was. He was an everyday railroad worker back in the 1870's and 1880's(possibly being a brakeman), which didn't prove to be an enjoyable job for him. While he was a railroad worker, he still lived in Kentucky, and possibly played and sang at local saloons, where he discovered the hidden talent he had. by the late 1880's, he had moved out to Chicago, where he married and found a nice home in the outskirts of the windy city. It was here that he began to perform at small local places, and the record company jobbers found him to be an interesting venture. They at last began to record him in 1891, and by 1892, he had offered to make his own records for them, which just seemed to work better on his part.  Bu 1894, he was making hundreds of records a week for the record companies out in Chicago, at his home, with him doing all of the work. Leachman was said to have been the first one to record his voice in four part harmony on different machines and putting his voice four tones as one onto a single cylinder. What? Yes, he made it seem like he  was a full quartet, only one Leachman. He was good enough with the equipment and with his vocal skill that he could do this. Whatever he did, he made it work, and those who heard the record were fooled. In 1901, he began to make records for the Victor talking Machine Company for Eldridge R. Johnson, which is where most of his surviving records were made.   He came out to Philadelphia periodically to make records, as he still lived in Chicago. 

And actually, it was in this very week in 1901 that Leachman came in and made a big batch of his most well-known Victors. Including "Trusculina Brown", "Turkey in the Straw","Don't You Hear them Bells", and a bunch more of his top selections. On this day back in 1901, Leachman made records of "Mister Johnson Turn Me Loose", "My Maid from Hindoostan", and a few more popular songs.

Leachman did not mean to, but whatever studio he entered, he owned the room. He loved making records, and he put his best of effort into making each and every record that he made, as each selection was a favourite of his. His skills were extraordinary, for being mostly illiterate, both musically and grammatically. Leachman had mastered uses for the phonograph that not even the Spencer brothers could have devised, which is really saying quite a lot. Leachman was a completely untrained singer(less trained than Dan W. Quinn!), which is truly amazing since he was such a versatile and melodically great vocalist. Somehow Leachman just happened to be the most gifted of all the early recording stars, and when this is said, it ain't a lie, as just look at the abilities that Leachman had, and how they were once described. It is truly an honor to be able to hear Leachman on those Victors 110 years after they were recorded, and it's truly a phenomenal thing. He was very kind to the pianists that accompanied him at Victor, which were either Frank P. Banta or Fred Hylands. Every time he wold come in, he would greet the pianist kindly, and thank them beforehand, especially if it was Hylands. He and Hylands had met back in the mid-1890's in Chicago, with Hylands possibly accompanying him for something back then. So one can imagine the kind of pleasant surprise that Leachman got when he found that Fred Hylands was a pianist for Victor. No matter which of the two pianists just happened to be in that day, Leachman worked with them almost perfectly. He always fell completely into character when he made those records, where the only way to get him out of his characters was to tell him that it was time for the next take. To further explain his awe-inspiring abilities, he learned everything he did by ear. EVERYTHING. He heard a record of the song by another singer, such as Len Spencer, Arthur Collins, Billy Golden, Dan Quinn, and all the other popular recording stars at that time, and after he heard the record through once, he could sit at a piano a play back the whole thing, with all the piano accompaniment and all the vocal tones. He could also imitate other singers, such as Billy Golden or Len Spencer, which it is evident that he did this when one hears a tune that was recorded by those two done by Leachman. He probably never met the other artists in person, but the artists themselves certainly heard of Leachman, as he was an artist who came out of nowhere in 1901 to make Victors, and he soon became almost just as popular as Arthur Collins or Len Spencer. Leachman was a truly eccentric character, who, since he had earned so much money from recording in the mid-1890's, owned race horses, and was called "The Kentucky Colonel"(yes, I am serious about this!), among other nicknames he had, that was one of them. He would sit at his piano at home in Chicago for hours every day of the week, and sing in that loud voice of his to make records for the local Chicago Talking machine company, with only his wife at home to hear him sing and help him make records, of which he made hundreds of during the week, getting 35 cents for each of them, and only the bravest of Chicago residents would ever dare to venture out to his home, which as the Chicago Tribune described it, was more located on the way to Milwaukee than to Chicago itself. He lived far out in the styx not just so he could make his records in peace, but also because of how he wanted to be only with his wife out alone from the rest of society. That must be an indicator of what he was like as a person, likable to be around, but mostly an introvert who wanted to do his genius works only in a secluded land where he wouldn't be set on display, like all the other recording were at exhibitions. He wanted to do his art in peace, without others around to gaze at him. He was a tall, powerfully build chap, with a baritone voice that suited his figure fully, with long hands, and whiskers on his upper lip that curved downward, that oftentimes covered his smiles. It's odd to think, but after 1904, Leachman left all of this recording business behind him. He felt that it was something to be forgotten, and so he did. He still lived in that secluded area of his, but after 1905, he came into town all covered up, because people still would recall that eccentric that he was back in the 90's. By the 20's, he was working as the police department's inspector of personnel, 

which he had apparently been working as since about 1905. Very few people remembered who he was, and whenever someone would ask, he would act as through that never happened, and he would be silent about it. It's so odd to think, because he loved making records so much, and he was said to have been one of the most passionate of the early recording stars, becoming character after character, and loving his acting more than anything in the world. Pleasing the phonograph was his specialty, and he was the most gifted of any person who had stood before the phonograph horns before the microphone. He died almost completely forgotten in 1936.

Here are a few records that he made between the dates of December 3 and 7 of 1901, this very week, 114 years ago.

December 6(the second take listed on the page!): http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002502/Pre-matrix_B-3359-Dont_you_hear_dem_bells

Also December 6: http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100001143/Pre-matrix_A-1124-Aint_that_a_shame

December 4:http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000000581/Pre-matrix_B-1128-Go_way_back_and_sit_down

December 5: http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000000582/Pre-matrix_B-1129-Quit_that_tickling_me

December 3: http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000000571/Pre-matrix_B-1122-Dont_forget_to_write_me_every_day

As far as I know, here's a pianist listing of each of those days(who I am pretty sure is on the piano):

December 3: Hylands

December 4: (debatable...) 

December 5: Banta

December 6: Hylands

December 7: Hylands 

I hope you enjoyed this!