Thursday, April 28, 2016

A mysterious poster and other things

As promised, I drew a portrait of John Yorke Atlee, after finally finding a picture of his last evening. So without any further a-do, here's that sketch:

Yep, those whiskers were sure magnificent. He certainly had those "long, flowing whiskers" that Gaisberg described. Now come to think of it, he looked a little like Edward Issler, which is very strange, because Issler was German, and Atlee was Scotch(hence the red whiskers). Just to get the comparison more clearly, here's an image of Issler and Atlee:
Issler
and 
Atlee. 
Hope you can see it now somewhat. It's very strange really. 
This somehow reminds me of that whole picture debate with this picture here:
Yep, that one...
Of course, the only person that anyone could easily(well, kind of...) identify was that man at the piano to the far right. I have explained why it's Fred Hylands, but some who I asked about the picture said Edward Issler and Schweinfest, which is not a completely terrible guess, but it's incorrect regardless. Issler was short, rather thin, and had distinctly shaped ears, as you can see in that small picture a little higher up on this post. Schweinfest was the more logical of the guesses I got, as he was not tall, however, he was on the heavier side, wore glasses,  had a handlebar moustache, and also distinctly ears. Though Schweinfest was a more common guess among those I asked, it was also incorrect. The pianist in the picture just above has long legs, wide arms, glasses, a distinct-looking nose, a short neck, wide expressive eyes, very fair hands, and a pink and freckle-stricken face, which could only be Hylands, early on in his term at Columbia(by early, I mean c. January-July-1898). 

*Before I get to something else, I must point out that some of you might notice, if you're an old photography nerd, that this picture seems not to have been retouched, as many old pictures were. That fact makes this picture very real, and if anyone ever finds the original of this picture, it probably will be a fantastic image to behold! The only reason I don't think it's retouched is because of how Hylands' face looks in the light. It looks very shiny and like it was probably very pink or red, which is hilarious!*

Now to get into the second part of this post. Amid my travels on Tim Brooks' website last evening, I stumbled upon a great article about going to visit Jim Walsh in 1970, which you can read here:
It's a fantastic look into Walsh and his inner workings! 
There was a specific image in this very article that captivated me, one that might not seem to be that way at first, but being very attentive to detail, especially in images, it got me quick. Anyhow, here's that picture:
Seems like something typical at the home of Jim Walsh. 
The one thing that caught my eye immediately was that torn-up poster of Len Spencer to the right. I was captivated by it, as it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Many know of Walsh as being a first-class eccentric, with several cats wandering around his home, and his house filled to the brim with some of the most valuable items of the early recording business, and not just with the rarest of recordings, but everything else one could think of when it comes to early recordings. Of course, Walsh had many posters like the Murray and Spencer ones just above, but that Spencer one is very curious to me. 

Hmm...If I were to make a guess as to what the circumstances around that Spencer poster were, I would say that it was made in the late 1890's, more specifically c.1897-99, maybe for the promotion of his minstrel troupe, or maybe just his minstrel skills on recordings, or maybe just an exhibition piece? It's something that I certainly want to know more about, if possible. First thing however, I would like to see the poster in its entirety, that way, it's likely that the purpose of it would reveal itself, also what that little blackface character that is being eclipsed by that image of the Murray poster is, and if it's supposed to be Spencer in blackface. It just might be! It would be fantastic to see a cartoon-like image of Spencer in blackface! He must have been a real riot in his minstrel attire... 
What's also odd about the poster, is that it gives a very clear image of Spencer, much more so than some of the images I have seen of him for some reason. Don't know why, but it does. Take this image for example:
This one gives a good image of Spencer and his obviously self-revealing habits. 
Of course, the poster would not accentuate the appearance of his scar that Ada Jones once vividly described.  Also the small scars from awful acne, that you can see somewhat in the picture just above, which is uncommonly seen in pictures of him(thanks to retouching...). Other than Spencer being a very strange-looking chap, the poster makes him seem just as so, and I don't feel like I need to go on about the comparison of the poster and the image, I will allow you all to make your own comparisons. 



To close off, a kind distant acquaintance posted a fantastic record by Hylands and a clarinetist this evening, that was absolutely wonderful when I first heard it. After hearing it just once through, I found it to be where Hylands sounds the most drunk of all of the Hylands records I have heard so far, and that's really saying something! He exhibits all of his attributes while drunk, from the anxious playing, to the uneasy tempo, and the distinctly playfulness with the soloist(love that attribute of his!). The playful nature of Hylands' playing can be heard on pretty much everything he was on, but there are some where this fact is especially prominent, and as could be expected, it's more so when he was drunk. Anyhow, here's the record:
How Hylands sounds loaded... 
Wow, this take is really the worst of the many takes I have heard Hylands play this song. Apparently, since it was recorded so many times, it can well be assumed that it was a big hit in 1901 and 1902. This take is very hard to keep up with when playing it by ear, I tried it, and really couldn't, because Hylands' rhythm is so unsteady and rushy, much more than usual...

H ope you enjoyed this! 




Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Absence of Hylands and Amazing new Discoveries

Fred Hylands is an unfortunately forgotten studio genius. 

I learned from my friend Vincent Johnson that Hylands is absent from the Tantalizing Tingles  book about acoustic era piano solos and some studio pianists. This was very frustrating to me, and to many of my friends who know of Hylands' playing very well. As Ryan Wishner told me, this book was written and published after the destruction of the Columbia ledgers, so it is not surprising that Hylands was missed in that sense, but it's problematic that not a single note of information mentions that Hylands was a studio pianist anywhere. All the other studio pianists are mentioned, even George Schweinfest, of all the studio pianists. How Hylands would have been horribly cross with that. He would absolutely hate that he is completely forgotten by those many collectors who unknowingly have hundreds of his records, in piles of Columbia's and some Zon-O-Phone's.
 This book seems to be helpful in only an interest of later collectors, not those who are anxiously awaiting the ledgers that list the pianist. It is very frustrating to me, and from all that I have heard as of now, I am not wanting the book as much as I thought when I was first told of it last weekend. 



Now, this evening, I have been digging around on Tim Brooks' fantastic website for the first time, and have found and treasure trove of information, from info on Tom Clark to a picture of John Yorke Atlee! 
Here's Atlee to begin:
Sorry it's not very big, or great in quality either. Regardless, it's still the most popular whistler of the 1890's recording business. Now I knew right away that this was Atlee, even if I hadn't seen a clear picture of him, why? Well, because Fred Gaisberg described Atlee as being a man who had long flowing whiskers. And what'd'ya know, there are those whiskers! The description fit the face immediately. Thanks Gaisberg! Will certainly get to drawing him so you can all get a better picture of him later to-night, he's got some of the most magnificent whiskers since Chester Arthur! 

To move on the the next item of information I picked up was a little bio on Tom Clark. It's about time... Anyway, this is what it says on Clark:
Wow! He lived a long time! Why didn't Walsh try to find him? Sad...
Anyway, there was no way I would have guessed that Clark was English, and it's somewhat surprising really, and really interesting. That would mean that Clark could be categorized with J. W. Myers in the foreign section of the earliest recording stars, which is great! 


Now since I'm the Hylands freak, some of you might be wondering if Hylands was listed in this directory of 1890's Columbia artists where I found all of this new information. Guess what, he was! It's a miracle! However! This is all that was written on him:
Oh, yes, of course, the absence of mentioning him in frequent catalogs, that's why there's close to nothing here. As we know, there would be a lot more information there if this directory was written now(this was compiled not long after the Columbia ledgers were destroyed). Not even a guess of birth and death dates are given! All of the most popular Columbia stars have those listed. Seriously, Tom Clark has his dates given, and those must have been painstakingly hard to find, more so than Hylands'. We're going on scraps of information for anything about Hylands... 
There are sections on Issler, Schweinfest, and Gaisberg, and the only one that states the studio pianist term is under Gaisberg's section. Though, keeping with the sometimes boring tradition of only staying with fully written evidence, it is only stated that Gaisberg was "known to have begun his career as a piano accompanist for Columbia in Washington in the early 1890's". There's nothing about how he was worked till he dropped with Atlee, working as an occasional pianist at Columbia after beginning at Berliner in 1892(they state 1893 in the directory, though that wouldn't exactly work chronologically). The record I had in my last post by Gaisberg proves that the 1893 date for him beginning at Berliner cannot be right, as the solo he made of "The Honeymoon March" was recorded in 1892, not 1893. 

There are many recording artists listed in this directory that would not be elsewhere listed, such as Hylands, David C. Bangs, Tom Clark, George Graham, and many more obscurities that we now have the privilege of hearing word of from The Phonoscope. You can see this full directory in this link here:
http://www.timbrooks.net/PDFs/colhist79.pdf
There's so much more to learn from this! Much more than I have listed here. 
In fact, this short directory might have been where most older collectors have heard of Fred Hylands. Though, of course, the article used the incorrect "Frederic" spelling that was used in The Phonoscope , though as we know, no one bothered to try to go out and search around for information on him back in 1978 and 79. 
All that known about this mysterious so-called "pianist" was what was said in the July, 1898 issue of The Phonoscope
That was all that was known for decades folks. No delving of into the mystery that surrounded him happened until now. Of course, if someone bothered to learn more about Hylands earlier, they certainly would have been surprised to know that he was in a publishing firm with Steve Porter, Roger Harding, and later Len Spencer, and that he was later bitter about working for Columbia, after working eight years for them. 

Anyhow, to close off, here's a great record I just got to hear a few days ago by Denny and Hylands:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlJXbgGoMa8
It's Hylands showing off all of his folk-Ragtime tricks, and his anxious style behind Will F. Denny, who can barely be heard. Hylands is louder than Denny, period. 



H ope you enjoyed this! 

Monday, April 25, 2016

Issler and Schweinfest, and other early piano solos

Yesterday evening, I spoke with Ryan Wishner about that book entitled Tantalizing Tingles which is essentially a full master book on all the piano solo records made in the acoustic era to the beginning of the electric age. The first few records mentioned in this book are said to be duets. Piano duets! But by whom? Well, as Ryan told me, they were by these two here:

Duets! By these two? Apparently so. I could not believe such a thing, but when you think about it, this duet idea creates a deeper connection between the two members of Issler's orchestra. Pianists who believe their styles are somewhat similar and trustworthy play duets, since I know what that's like, I can somewhat understand why these two would have enough trust in each other to make a handful of duets. I am waiting see the full list of titles of tunes they recorded at this session, but it can be very well assumed that a list is out there, because record lists from so early on exist out there. You can see a section of these surviving lists on this video here. The pianist is stated... ugh.... If only Columbia lists were left...
Anyhow, these duets were made around the end of 1889, probably close to the date listed on the list in the video above, also for the same company listed, North American. The first thing that came to mind upon mentioning these probably extraordinary records was;
How did they balance it?
Well, one thing is for sure, that couldn't have been easy. Since one of the pianists was Issler, we do know that it was well done, however it was done so. Issler's studio genius certainly would have been tested when making these records, but he probably came up with a solution. It is very hard to imagine how those would have been recorded, usually I can get an image, but with this one it's a little hard. It's not like the sound on this one here from 1898. This one gives a clear image of Columbia's big room upstairs at 27th and Broadway, from Harry Spencer's SHOUTED ANNOUNCEMENT(I had to listen a few times to make sure that it was Spencer, the shouting makes it hard to tell...), the trombone playing far back in the room, to Hylands' loud piano playing just to the left of the horns. However Issler made those records, it was most likely upon his obliging that he and Schweinfest make those duets. As we know, these were made not long after Issler formed his Parlor Orchestra in 1888, so after getting to know each other for a little while, they both found talent on the piano between the two of them. Yes, we know of Schweinfest of making records like this one here, but he did play piano somewhat, and now as I have explained, played better than just a little. 
It is very unlikely for any of these cylinders to exist, as they were probably made on white-wax records, which almost guarantees that there aren't any surviving copies. As Ryan told me, if they were made a few years later on Berliner, there is a more likely chance of surviving copies. 

In this book, they mention many recorded piano solos by C. H. H. Booth:
(from the Phonoscope)
If you know anything about Booth, you'd probably know that he was an early studio pianist, who was known mostly for operatic Victors, playing behind Luiza Tetrazzini, and Enrico Caruso. Booth did in fact make a handful of piano solos for Berliner in the mid-late 1890's. One of his prominent, and surviving ones is a tune titled "Wild West Galop" which must be a fantastic record, just by how  the title sounds. Booth was a very high-class Victorian pianist, so he was no Frank Banta or Fred Hylands, so according to what a "Galop" was, and to Booth's background, it is probably a very authentic Victorian piano solo. By this, it probably includes the rapid speed changes, and the unsteady rhythm that we know of from Fred Gaisberg. Ryan indicated to me that the famed solo Gaisberg made of "The Honeymoon March" was also listed within the pages. 

(that's Gaisberg in Japan. LOVE THIS PICTURE!)
Anyone notice the writing on the side? It says ,"Good Morning Carrie!" Hilarious.

Anyhow, Gaisberg was reported to have made this solo in 1892, when he was only 19, for the few of Berliner's men who were out in the Washington D. C. area before 1894 and 1895. Without further a-do, here's that record:
It's obviously a Berliner made in 1892, as the speed can't seem to stay at a uniform pace, and it's not just because of Gaisberg, it's mostly because it was recorded in the era of the hand-cranked Gram-O-Phone. That machine is probably what it was recorded on anyway, which doesn't help with a constant speed. It was probably recorded on something similar to this here:
In fact, you can actually see one of these in action here!
Of all the tedious methods of recording in the 1890's, the hand-cranked Berliner takes the cake. I can see Sinkler Darby or Berliner himself standing behind the horn cranking that machine while Gaisberg is playing(somewhat nervously...) on that solo record...

I forgot to mention that at the same 1889 session that Issler and Schweinfest recorded a bunch of their own solos as well, which also must have been a great feat, as recording the piano in 1889 was something that was still being figured out by studio workers. That early on, I don't think that even Len Spencer had figured out how to record the piano very well. When Spencer was making his first records in 1888 and 1889 for Columbia, he must have been experimenting with the piano balancing, even though Frank Dorian only recounted that Spencer would set five phonographs on a piano and set the horns down toward the keyboard, and that was it. Though, thinking of Spencer's age(21-22) and impulses, he certainly would have done some other things to understand balancing other than just what Dorian described. It's Len Spencer, and it would just make full sense for him to want to experiment. Hopefully, this section from The Phonoscope comes to mind for some when thinking of young Len Spencer:
Yep, chimes records indeed. How that crazy privileged Spencer was always experimenting. 
Anyway, I am awaiting replies from my friends who own this book about any information on Hylands that might exist in the book. They do have a bunch of information on Frank B. Banta and Schweinfest, so they better have something on Hylands! 

Hope you enjoyed this! 





Thursday, April 21, 2016

The Mystery and search for "Violets"

That's the other pianist I mention often on this blog, and the man who was a true victim of his time. I had a chat with my dear friend Ryan Wishner this evening, and we spoke briefly of the search for Frank Banta's record of "Violets". The only reason that this rare record is an on-going pun with us is because it is so hard to find the original Banta take, as most of the time you see it, it is the Albert Benzler re-make from 1905. Banta's original 1903 take is only very hard to find because of the fact that it was so popular just after it was released, and more so after Banta died. After Banta died in 1903, it was a major tragedy in the recording business, more so than any other death in the business actually. It was really the first casualty of the early recording business, caused by the environment in which he worked. This is why it was such a big thing when he died. 

Banta's "Violets" is one of the most tragically beautiful records of the piano accompaniment era, as far as I have studied in that era. Why? Well, it's very deep and full of emotion, unlike most of the solos of that time. It's very tragic in the sense of the fact that Banta died literally six months after the record was made, and that this record was really what made all the record buyers fully recognise him as a world-class pianist and accompanist. After this record was issued, that was really when Banta became well recognised, and became more popular than he already was. If he hadn't died in November of 1903, he would likely have become more popular than Fred Hylands. Banta had so much potential in him, and it was all lost too early. 

I know I have said this before, but Banta was said to have made a brown wax of "Violets", probably in 1901, just at the end of the Brown wax era. To think of all the brown waxes that exist out there, any of those unidentified brown waxes could be Banta playing "Violets". That is another record that many piano-accompaniment mad collectors would be drooling over to have, or at the least, just to hear it once through. It is just like the original 1903 copy that he made, but on brown wax which would be even more uncommon and valuable, as it's older. I'm hoping that the brown wax version of it sounds halfway decent, as brown wax piano solos are the closest thing to impossible to find in record collections anywhere. From how good piano accompaniment sounds on brown wax records, I am not putting anything past the balancing skills of the late-1890's(into 1901 mind you), for the piano to sound reasonably good. Those studio workers knew how to record the piano, regardless of what all those ignorant collectors say about the piano being almost impossible to record in the acoustic era. Then why did they stay with the piano accompaniment for such a long time? Heh? It's something that is said far too often by collectors, to where it makes me sick sometimes, because of how untrue that notion is. 

The reason that Banta's "Violets" is so valued to a variety of collectors is because of all the good ideas that surround Banta from the artists who recalled him. Since they were all good things, the love got passed on through the generations of collectors, therefore keeping a certain amount of information on Banta in the light constantly, which makes any solos of his worthy of being collected by any early record nerd. Even those who aren't the biggest piano accompaniment buffs would find Banta's beautiful solo and kind personality too charming to pass up if they are encountered by a copy of his "Violets". 




Now another record that has caused some doings around in the early record collector community lately is Banta's "Hello Ma Baby" piano solo from 1900. This is a record that I have heard about for almost as long as I've been a collector, and has been an item of interest upon first hearing of its likely existence. When you look up the record on this link here:
You may notice that it states only 346 copies were made of this record, and as might be said, that's not very many to go around. Even in the case of Victor records just under 350 copies is not very many. That doesn't make it impossible though, there are some Silas Leachman records that I have held in my hands where less than a hundred were made, such as his mess-up of a record "My Maid from Hindoostan"(if you want to see it yourself, look it up on the website in the link above). Banta's solo of "Hello Ma Baby" has been confirmed to at least exist in one collections somewhere, indicating that someone is sitting on that one extraordinarily historic piece of Rag-Time. In very few situations does this matter, but it doesn't matter at all if that one copy is a mess or not, the condition doesn't matter in such a desperate matter as this, as it's so valuable, that it repeals all needs and wants for a clean-sounding take. That is how I feel about J. W. Myers' "Will O the Wisp", though it wouldn't hurt if I could hear it pretty well. It is listed here:
How I want to hear that cylinder awful badly...
A song about a man who hold people in a prison to torture them paired with amazing piano accompaniment is just too good to pass by. I really hope they digitize this one, of all the cylinders on their website, this is the one I would pay good money to hear. 

Anyhow, I hope to gather some more information on that "Hello Ma Baby" record soon, and as soon as I receive more news, I will report it here. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

What Les Copeland heard as a youngster, and some folk Rag-Time

That's the eccentricity Les Copeland.

Many folk Rag-Time enthusiasts know very well of Les Copeland, from his eccentric style, and his very odd personality. 


Now think about this for a moment, what could have Copeland grown up listening to?  He was born in 1887, and was beginning to flourish as a young musician around the end of the brown wax era. Copeland may have been born in the second generation of Rag-Time pianists, but he played much like those born in the first one, for example, Fred Hylands(1872), Ben Harney(1872), Theodore Northrup(1869) or Max Hoffmann(1873). What would have caused this off displacement of style and age? Well, to begin, recordings. These brown wax cylinders that Copeland may have heard when a youngster would be one way to indicate where his early style came from. Yes, I know that he was born in Kansas, and that certainly helps with his style's origins. The more concrete evidence that his style was played many years before his published rags of the early teen's is really the recordings of the late-1890's. It has always been a little suspicious to me that Copeland's style sounded almost identical to Fred Hylands', well, for as long as I have known about Hylands that is. In the extremely helpful and informative book, Rags and Ragtime by Trebor Tichenor and Dave Jasen, it is indicated in a small section this: 

Some of the irregular idiosyncrasies can be heard in those folk performances recorded on 78's[and cylinders] 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 for m of broader and more varied expression. 

There is not a doubt about the section just above that the point of the loss of queer characteristics was present, though since Tichenor knew very little to nothing at all about Fred Hylands, it is not at all surprising that he was not mentioned at all in the introduction section, and on the very broad examination of folk Rag-Time. It must be noted however, that Hylands' accompaniments are the most tangible examples of early folk Rag-Time that exist, and they're not uncommon to find either. You may run across some of Charles Hunter's, Tom Turpin's, Max Hoffmann's or Theodore Northrup's rags, but that is only written, it cannot be heard exactly how the pianist or composer would have played it. It is not the same as putting your head up to a horn and listening to the hands of one of the best accompanists in vaudeville play behind a popular studio star. Another great example of folk Rag-Time is the piano rolls that Les Copeland made in the 1910's. 

Copeland grew up in a similar environment to Ben Harney, and in fact, being in exactly the same area that Brun Campbell was located, the two of them were distant acquaintances, much like Max Hoffmann and Fred Hylands in Chicago. Copeland and Campbell had highly varying styles, though they came from the same area, which is a very strange thing if you think about it,as regional styles were very prominent, and easily an indicator of where a pianist came from. Copeland's style, believe it or not, was more of a Chicago-Indiana-Kentucky style, more than a Kansas and Missouri sort of style. As I'm writing this, I am listening to Brun Campbell's solos, trying to catch similarities to all of the other styles of these other pianists I mentioned, and Campbell seems like an anomaly in this mix, as he was the most rough playing of all of them, and the least showy. Campbell, not surprisingly, sounds the most like a brothel pianist. 

Unlike all of the famous composers and pianists of the early 1910's in New York, Copeland refused the modern ways of "Tin Pan Alley" and remained playing his archaic style which was just as mid-1890's as all the Rag players of the mid-1890's. It is still unknown as to why Copeland's style was specifically 1890's-sounding rather than the typical early "Tin Pan Alley" style that was emerging at the time he was getting his rags published. He might have been listening very closely when all those records were being put out in the late-1890's and early 1900's. He was listening to a pianist who had a similar sense of musical mirth that he did, Fred Hylands. And of course, this did help once he was out touring with the B. F. Keith theater circuit, which, as you might recall, Fred Hylands was part of, starting in c.1893. It is most impossible that Copeland and Hylands would have actually passed by one another, but, the possibility that Copeland had heard many of Hylands' records is highly plausible. 
It is hard to doubt this possibility when you actually hear Copeland's rags:
his rendition of "The Texas Blues" made in 1917

his "Rocky Mountain Fox"

his famous "French Pastry Rag" from 1914

his "Twist and Twirl Rag"
Copeland's "Twist and Twirl Rag" especially shows Hylands influence all over the place, especially with the walking octaves in the left hand, which was a lost tradition by 1914. Also! It must be noted that Copeland ended his rags with a rolled fifth or tenth in the left hand with a right hand chord, which was a tradition that Hylands used on almost everything I have heard him on, from his early records in 1897 to his latest in 1905. 
You can hear records similar to Copeland's Rags above here, with that final chord thing I mentioned:
Hylands with George W. Johnson on "The Laughing Coon", 1898
(ends on a rolled G chord, with a G octave in the bass with an added fifth)

Hylands with Spencer on "Whistling Rufus"1899(skip to 6 minutes for music!)
This one is a fine example of Hylands' will in the left hand, showcasing everything he did with it. I also forgot to mention the habit of interchanging between fifths and octaves in the left hand that was also a similarity. 

"Ain't Dat a Shame" by Bob Roberts with Hylands, 1902
This one gives away one of the prime attributes of Copeland's playing, the lagging and jagged sense of rhythm. It sounds almost too exaggerated, but Hylands was actually making fun of it when he played, because the pianists who came before him at Columbia did that often. Copeland just played that way, and from hearing that from Hylands, it might make a strong connection of these styles. 
Another example of this jagged time paired with great rhythm is on Spencer's cylinder of "My Gal is a High Born Lady" with Hylands from c.January 1898

I would love to point out the similarities in Copeland's playing to Hylands and Golden's "Turkey in the Straw", but actually, the only thing I can really find similar on that one would be the walking octaves, and the occasional fifths in the left hand. Hylands plays much more like a true vaudeville pianist on that one, in this case, more in the nature of Mike Bernard. Copeland would have thought of Hylands' playing on that cylinder too showy and broken to be understood by any listener. 
Whatever it was that kept that eccentricity Les Copeland with that old style of Rags, he certainly would have gotten it from somewhere, and it's a style that all Rag-Time pianists and performers now can appreciate, even if they aren't really into the folk-ragtime as much. 


Before I end this post, I must share two records is just heard recently by George Schweinfest and Hylands. The first one I will share is in the collection of a kind friend of mine, who just recently learned of how valuable it is in the sense of piano accompanied records. Anyhow, it's an unusual take of "The Nigger Fever" recorded in 1901:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQf5L0vHyP4
This is a fascinating record, that has so much odd stylings played by Hylands on it! Including almost everything he did, minus the walking octaves though. I must point out that once they got to the section in A flat, I hear a whole lot of fifths in the left hand, and also in the minor section as well. 

The next one is a different take of a record I have used on this blog before. I used the 7-inch version of this before, but now I have tracked down the 10-inch! It's Schweinfest and Hylands playing "A Rag-Time Skedaddle" with some interesting extended repeats, and some fun mistakes!(done by Hylands of course...)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0x33jvo3DY
This record is fantastic, and I love that the final strain is repeated at the end! 
In thinking what to-day is, Hylands was probably high on some kind of drug when they got to making the take just above.


Hope you all had a good 4/20! 



Tuesday, April 19, 2016

The "Little Egypt" affair of late-1896

That's the scandalous "oriental" dancer that caused so much talk in the mid-1890's. She was known to most as "Little Egypt",as some may already know, there were a handful of these so-called "Little Egypts" in several clubs around the U.S., though the idea and character emerged from the midway of the 1893 Chicago Exposition.  The name of the lady just above was known as Ashea Wabe, to make her name sound more oriental, though she was a French girl originally named Catherine Devine. She was an up-and-coming young dancer by 1896, and it just so happened that she was invited to dance before a group of wealthy young men in New York. 


This was originally a "stag party" if you will,  held by P. T. Barnum's grandson, Herbert Barnum Seeley, for his brother Clinton Barnum. It was held at the exclusive 5th avenue restaurant  Sherry's.  It was a typical lavish gathering of the rich in the gilded age, with several courses of food, lots of drinks, and of course, the most up-to-date entertainment. Seeley had arranged for one of the biggest local booking agents, Mr. Phipps, as some may recall from a catalogue I have used pictures from before on this blog. Mr. Phipps was able to book a familiar face: 
Dan Quinn. 
Quinn was only booked as a minor part of the entertainment for the evening, though the circumstances of the star for the entertainment did not make him a minor character in this scandal.  Quinn did what he was supposed to do, came out, sang a few songs, thanked the respectable audience, and went back to the dressing room. Though he did not at all know of the intentions of the men hosting this party, and didn't exactly care to, as he was already backstage when the rest of the entertainment played out. Quinn did not know that this "Little Egypt" as he had heard of, was a French dancer who was fully willing to dance nude for these men, and if everything was to go as planned, this was going to happen. However, this was not at all what came about. Just in the middle of when she was dancing before the men, a high ranking and well-known policeman named George "Whiskers" Chapman, busted in through the door after hearing murmurs around of this indecent doing, and upon hearing suspicious sounds from down the stairs at the building. He didn't get in to investigate until after she had danced for them, and when most of the performers were in the dressing rooms. He found a few women, including one named Cora Routt, who was just in the middle of getting changed when Chapman threw open the curtains, and multiple witnesses stated that he said to her, "You are unfit to call yourself a woman!" This, however, was not the only thing that caused Chapman trouble, he noticed several men in the same dressing room with the ladies, causing more suspicion. 

A trial was called for quick by the chief of Police, Peter Conlin. This case was shot in evidence, and most all of the testimonies conflicted with what Chapman had stated. It took until the final day of the trial for Quinn for finally be prosecuted. Quinn was the least valuable of any of the people they had called to the stand before that, as he had seen the least, in fact, he wasn't in the dressing room with the women until after Chapman showed up, but he heard yells from where he was. The most important of what Quinn said would be these here:

Prosecutor: Did you see Little Egypt's costume?

Quinn: Yes sir, I had a splendid opportunity to see her costume. She wore fleshings, I believe. From the waist down was a black skirt; around the shoulders was a small, short jacket. The head and bare arms were all I saw exposed. Just above the waist fleshings were exposed. 

and this:
Prosecutor: Did you  go into the dressing room?
Quinn: I did. 

It is also noted in the very paper that this was written in that Quinn would not wholly swear whether it was actual flesh or fleshings that were exposed. 

Quinn was able to reclaim his position in the "Columbia Clan" without too much damage to his popularity by early 1897, which was good for him, as he did not need going to prison for who knows how long, leaving a wife and four children at home. 

Hope you enjoyed this! I'll get into that post on Les Copeland soon, I did this post upon the kind obliging of a friend of mine.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Locations and Record Studies

Within the past two days, I have been looking through Google Earth once more for the locations of  where early studio stars lived, and where businesses were, as according to The Phonoscope of course. Some of them lived a reasonable distance from the Columbia studio at 1155-1159 Broadway, but some lived rather far away. I would say that Russell Hunting lived the farthest until 1897, when he moved closer(much like many of the other artists did). Hylands lived pretty far away until 1899, when he moved to the probably very expensive place at 27th street, just a block away from Columbia's studio. I have come to believe that one stretch of 27th street was something like "Columbia Row" or maybe "record row" in the late 1890's as there were a handful of record companies and publishing houses located in this very specific area. This is much like the whole "Tin pan Alley" thing, but that was on 28th street. I noticed that much of the publishers Hylands associated with in 1899-1900 were within a one mile radius of where Hylands Spencer and Yeager was located. Notice the address of the publishing house here:
16 West 27th Street. 
That's a location that is actually shown in The Phonoscope to have been where J. W. Myers kept his "Globe Phonograph Company" in 1896-97. The location of Hylands' prized firm was right in the middle of all of these businesses. 
33 West 27th Street.
Yep, just a few houses down, there was the madness at Hylands, Spencer, and Yeager. Hylands probably didn't want to publish the tune just above himself, so he took it to his friends just a few houses down. From examining the building in which his firm was at, he probably bought out more than half of the structure for his firm. In the 1900 census, it must be noted that Hylands had several people living with him, still, and this was taken in June of 1900, when the firm was just starting to wind down a little bit. I had forgotten however that Fred's father Charles was the head of the house, of course, because he probably had lost some trust in his son by 1900. Though losing trust in Fred probably began long before that. I find it very funny how when the census taker came by all the recording stars, they didn't really know what to say as their occupation, as sometimes it's more specific than others. Hylands' in 1900 says simply "musician", though we well know that he was working at Columbia in 1900 and also working at theater's after his day's work at the studio. I can remember from reading through the 1910 census for Arthur Collins, and he listed his occupation as "phonograph singer", which is actually the most accurate response of any I have found so far, until I find out what Len Spencer, his wife, said. 

However, Collins was saying that in 1910, and that's when the idea that being a phonograph singer was actually a well-to-do occupation, not that is wasn't so before that. 1910 seems more like a reasonable year in the development of the phonograph. If I can recall correctly, Banta simply said "musician" as well, though we know that he was at the height of his term at Edison and just beginning his next commitment at Victor. Banta lived much more comfortably than Hylands did, having two house servants and a home in a nice part of town, with an accommodating wife and two great kids, Banta lived more like Steve Porter or J. W. Myers, rather than Hylands choosing to live like a true musician, just with more money to burn, and how he threw it in the fire!  

Hmm, to change the subject, I have been listening to a singer I usually refuse to for some reason, Henry Burr. 
Yes indeed(he looks a little like Hylands!)
It's amazing to think, but Henry Burr began recording in the piano accompaniment era. He began just early enough to have had many experiences with Fred Hylands, not really Banta though, he just missed that opportunity. Now among the powerhouse Columbia duos in the piano accompaniment era, from Spencer and Hylands, to Collins and Harlan with Hylands, Henry Burr and Hylands was a real amazing feat. 
Why? Well, think about it for a moment, the only reason I'm not a big Burr fan if because he was a man similar to Arthur Collins, who was very hard to get along with, and was not praised for his personality, just like Collins was. Hylands was, as we know, full of himself and fully confident with his playing all the time. When you put those two together, one can only imagine the sort of tangle that was created at every session with the two of them. At most of Burr's earliest sessions, he recorded sacred songs, with organ by Hylands, and as I have explained before, Hylands was not skilled on the organ(reed organ that is...). Since Burr was new to Columbia, he didn't really know of Hylands' antics there before 1900, which means that he was missing quite a lot of it. 
Anyhow here are a few of Burr's records with Hylands:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder9750
This one is particularly fantastic. Burr was really an astonishing solo artist in his earliest days of recording, as his earliest records are often overlooked, which is unfortunate. 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder4884
This is Burr's remake of  J. W. Myers/ Gaskin's take of this, that is why the cylinder number is that of a brown wax Columbia. Whenever I listen to Burr's earliest records, I can almost hear the bickering between the takes with them. These would usually begin with Burr telling Hylands that he did something too loud or could've played better. 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8064
Now onto his sacred cylinders, with Hylands' mediocre organ playing. There's not a doubt that these records with Hylands and Burr were among the best of the late piano accompaniment era, as Burr was quite a change from the recording stars of the brown wax era, and once he and Murray came in, it was clear to the old "Columbia clan" that a new era was beginning, and it was nothing like the one they had created. 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder10942
Burr was essentially doing what Steve Porter did in the late 1890's, by recording all of those sacred songs, but this time, they used the organ much more often. It must be noted that Columbia used a reed organ without any long pipes, whereas Edison had an organ that actually used pipes that extended several feet in height, which made for a much purer and darker sound than the reed organ at Columbia. 

Before I get into another subject, I must hold off on the idea for the next post I will do, all I am saying for now is that it has to do with Les Copeland and Hylands being compared stylistically. 


Hope you enjoyed this! 

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Ossman's "Peaceful Henry" and the Slow Speed Phenomenon

Recently, I have been digging through much of Hylands' later recordings for Zon-O-Phone, Columbia, and Leeds, and from this I have found a much clearer way to identify that it's surely Hylands. Whenever I listen to many of those 1902-05 Columbia and Zon-O-Phone's, I ofttimes have the itching feeling at the back of my mind that the pianist might not be Hylands, though after doing some close listening this evening, I am very certain on many of the records. 
Before I get into that, I must share the transfer I did of Ossman playing:
(from Professor Bill's Website)
Ossman was known to have been the only one who recorded this piece of classic Rag-Time, and as far as I have found, this claim has stayed put. Anyhow, here's that slower transfer:
On the album, the record was transferred at the written key of C, which does make sense, but according to the announcement, and the speed that Ossman plays it at, this would not be logical. So the new key is a B flat, though I wanted to make it just a trifle slower, so the key could be absolutely even, but my machine would not allow for it. This was a very strange thing, but it sounded great after I messed around with the speed. 

Now this brings me to the second part of this post, the slow speed phenomenon. Simply, this is a very strange effect of when playing acoustic records slow(much slower than one usually would). The effect of this is that notes deep in the bass that aren't heard when played at normal speed cannot be heard, can be heard played very slow. This is a bizarre effect that no one can understand why it is so. The primary example I have for this theory is a recording by: 
Bob Roberts 
and 
Fred Hylands.
Anyhow, here's a much slower version of Bill Bailey by Hylands and Roberts, recorded in c.late-1902:

It's the most bizarre thing I tell you! Notes deep in the bass can be very well heard, more so than at normal speed. None of the smartest record collectors I know have any clue as to why this happens at a slower speed. I played all of my Hylands accompanied records very slow this evening, and found an amazing new stylistic attribute to Hylands' playing. It is an attribute that many have been associating with Ben Harney for decades, which is the deep single bass notes in the left hand, which, to many, is a far-off anticipation of "stride". This similarity to Harney makes full sense, as Hylands was a distant acquaintance of his in 1896 to 1900, and certainly would have played in a similar way to Harney, as they hailed from neighboring states. Any recording(especially with piano accompaniment), of the acoustic era will sound purer and darker if played much slower. When I say this, I mean playing the records slower than the usual speed they are meant to be played at, to where an even and reasonable key can be ascertained. 

Another record slowly played record that has this bizarre thing is the transfer of "She is More to be Pitied than Censured" by J. W. Myers: 
Yes indeed. Just to refresh, here's that transfer:
This one is not really in the same state as the record of "Bill Bailey" that I have, as it doesn't actually sound very decent at the speed it's played at. The transfer I made of "Bill Bailey" sounded halfway decent, which was surprising, as usually I cannot stand records played too slow. Actually, if that speed I played it at is the correct speed, I would not really be too surprised, as it doesn't sound too far off from Roberts' true vocal range. For a good indicator, here's a record of Roberts where he sounds similar:
Hmm. Maybe F is the right key for Roberts' "Bill Bailey"... It does make sense, because that's the key that most Jazz bands play it in, and Arthur Collins used to sing it in E(a half-step down from F). 

Sorry to get a little side-tracked, back to Mister Myers. I was actually listening to the one Myers record I have last evening using the same slow speed technique, and found some fascinating little observations. I am fully against playing Myers' records too slow, as he was the best of all the 1890's recording stars, with the best sense of pitch and rhythm, it's very uncommon to hear him hit a wrong note. I listened to a record by Myers I hadn't heard in long while recently, and found that he doesn't sing very well on it. This does not come up very much with Myers, and it really surprised me. Enough talk, here's that record: 
For a long time I had assumed that the singer was Dan W. Quinn, but after listening very closely to how certain words were annunciated, I found that it had to be Myers. The only other reason I assumed it was Quinn was because of the off-key singing at the chorus, which was solely a Quinn characteristic. I was referring to how Quinn sang on his Berliner of "And the Band played On" with Fred Gaisberg from 1895, but I found that the singing styles were not a match. It had to be Myers, I could just hear the Welsh. 


Now to get into something a little different, I had a short e-mail conversation with my dearest friend Craig this past week or so, and he mentioned that he noticed on many of his Zon-O-Phones, that the pianist sounds like at least three different pianists. Craig has at least hundreds of these 9-inch Zon-O-phones with piano accompaniment, much like this red hot piece of Rag-Time. There's a reason why they are valued to pianist-mad collectors like Craig, Ryan Wishner and I. Zon-O-Phone's are more mysterious than Victors with piano accompaniment, as there are not any ledgers whatsoever that survive from this company's earliest six or so years, which could be classified as the second half of the piano accompaniment era(1899-1905). Craig had told me that he knows which pianist is Hylands on those 9-inchers, and he could distinguish a few different styles, hence a few sitting pianists. 
I have not heard enough of these Zono's to be able to fully catch the differences, but I have noticed at least two different styles from the ones I have heard. The record in the link just above is one that had Hylands on piano for certain, as it's almost identical to the 1902 record of it by Roberts I have in my collection. I own no piano accompanied Zono's, but I want a haul of them terribly, the piano is just too good to pass by. 
Now to share many of the piano-accompanied Zon-O-Phone's I have heard, and let's see if some differences can be caught. 
I think I know who's on this one behind Collins. This one sounds an awful lot like Banta, and not very much like Hylands. The left hand's swiftness is a little misleading though. The fifths in the left hand though indicate a more Banta approach to the style. This is the very reason why Zon-O-Phone's are the worst when it comes to pianist identification. 
This next Zono is another Collins one, this time from 1902, and played far too fast, but has very unusual accompaniment to it:
This one has got me stumped, and it has for a while, as I have never really known who to lean more to here, Hylands or Banta, or maybe someone else? I now think of leaning more toward Hylands on this one, as the syncopation isn't really as jagged and jarring as Banta's. The left hand sounds strong and anxious like Hylands', which is immediately the first thing that is a red flag that the pianist is Hylands, this is a great indicator more than anything else. I am only saying that because Hylands didn't always play those broken walking octaves, but he always played that type of left hand I just explained. Another obvious indicator of Hylands is the fact that at the end of the introduction at the beginning, middle interlude, and ending solo, he plays a high trill with a large tenth/twelfth chord in the left hand, and this is something that Banta NEVER  did, and probably couldn't do, as his hands were not able to reach a tenth very well. 
Now those earliest Zon-O-Phone's are a little less diverse with piano accompaniment, as most of them sounded uniform in that way. These are a little harder though when it comes to identification of pianists. Here are a few early Zono's:
(these are all from 1900-1901)
(this one is obviously Hylands, as I used this cylinder here for a stylistic comparison)

This one is very hard to tell, but I am leaning far toward an obviously tipsy Hylands. Most attributes of Banta can be debunked here. This record is pretty wild! 

The piano accompaniment is far too showy and attention-eager for it to be frugal Frank, so it would probably be flamboyant Fred. 

I am about 95% sure that Hylands is on this one, because I heard a different recording of this tune by Dan Quinn on a very obscure disc label in 1899 where that same strange left hand pattern at the chorus is played, that I don't think Banta would be so reckless as to play a left hand style that strange and hard to play. Also, the fast playing of the solo at the end is very much like Hylands on all those Columbia's. That same anxious and strong left hand is also very prominent more so toward the end of the record. Now I'm very aware of the fact that Hylands seems to be on all of these Zon-O-Phone's, but here's the thing, I have actually heard a Zono from 1901 that has a much more Banta style to the piano accompaniment, which indicates accompaniment diversity. 

The two I'm the most on-the-fence about are these two here:
(that's a strange one!)

I am very unsure on this one, as there's an awful lot of fifths in the left hand, but I do know for sure that Banta played those often. Many of those fifths can be heard on his late-1890's Edison cylinders. 



Sorry about not posting in so many days, it's been hard to conjure a single subject to speak of, as so many ideas have come to mind within the last week. 
Hope you enjoyed this!