Now that we have a much clearer picture of Fred Hylands, it be time to go back and look at the studio pictures with unknown pianists and pick him out. That infamous Columbia picture now makes much more sense because of that clear picture of Hylands, because we can now all come together in seeing that the pianist in the background is indeed Hylands.
Despite now being able to fully see that the pianist is Hylands, we still can't yet answer how he changed so much from that time to the time of the exhibition picture:
Even with that rather amazing change, we still cannot answer the question of how. I guess we can call this dilemma one of the many Rag-Time mysteries that us record scholars and Rag-Timers have to solve. We know that he looked pretty rough toward the end of his life, thanks to the two new pictures, and I guess such awful times while at Columbia would be a reason for this. More and more we are realizing that Hylands was truly an 1890's character, despite the "second-wind" he caught in the 1900's performing on Broadway and in Vaudeville. We know also that this second go around he had after 1900 slimmed him out over time, which is good, but this slimming down was forced on him by illnesses and constant touring(he toured in the mid west starting in 1905 and ended around 1909). It must have been a great help that he was a theater director in this period of time as well.
Just to really get into finally proving this thing once and for all, here's a detail of the picture:
Now that we're pretty certain his hair was vibrant red, we now look to the more minute details.
Notice the same long sloped ears on both pictures(it's hard to see in the c.1897 picture...)
Take note of the flushed areas around the cheekbones, there appears to be that in both pictures. In the 1897-ish picture the shadows are at just about the line where these flushed cheeks would be visible, and despite those dark shadows, we can still see signs of variation in color. One thing I've been trying to figure out in the handful of weeks I've had this new picture drawing new cartoons of Hylands, is whether those flushed cheeks were speckled with freckles, which they may very well have been, but thanks to re-touching we can't tell.
It's been a part of my descriptions of Hylands since the beginning, that crooked mouth he had, and it truly was a sight to behold it turns out(it's especially weird in the exhibition picture for some reason).The few times he spoke on records he was hard to understand, and since he did do some singing(if you at all are skeptical of this, think of his role as a Broadway performer, this would require that he sing, and occasionally do some tricky footwork believe it or not), his voice(the one we assume to be his)carried surprisingly well for an early recording star. In the 1897-ish picture we see the "better side" of that weird mouth, but if you really look at both pictures it's the same awkward structure. This really leads me to think he had some kind of Winston Churchill like speech impediment, especially if one side, as can be observed, drooped downward. It's rather funny actually how clearly that droopy side of his mouth can be seen in the exhibition picture in exactly the same way in the 1912 picture.
Now I don't think I need to say anything about that curious nose, it pretty much explains all that needs to be said in the pictures. I must say though, that curious nose of his looks much better in profile(1897 picture). Again, he had a really weird profile. Of all these performers I draw in cartoons, his profile is the weirdest looking of them all, I have yet to see a profile as magnificent as well as comical as Hylands'.
Thanks to the picture of his sister Etta, we know that those pleading droopy eyes ran in the family.
Etta had a little bit of that weird mouth thing, but at least it manifested rather gracefully on her, rather than a little out of whack with Fred.
It's still hard to beat those desperate looking eyes, even though they look made to wear strong gold pince-nez glasses. He looks like his eyesight was crap. Not often do people look like that have bad eyesight, but when you can see it, you know it. With Hylands, it appears his bad eyesight was ever visible. With those likely ocean blue eyes sunken in shadows, usually they would be exaggerated by glasses, as for example the way they are in the exhibition picture. You can see the shadows over those wide eyes in the 1897 ish picture that are ever present in the other pictures definitively identified as Hylands.
I guess there's no more need to debate who that pianist is in that 1897-ish studio picture, even with the baggage of change of his figure from that to the exhibition picture, we can now be assured that he worked for Columbia some time in 1897. Now that we are assured this, we can go on to say that he worked at Columbia during the day and did his shows and management at Pastor's theater by night. Recall that he lived across the street from Pastor's in 1897 and 1898, so he was conveniently located for sure.
Now to move to a similar subject matter, Frank P. Banta.
Such a kind and warm face...
Within the past week or so, I've been digging into Santa Barbara's new transfers, as there are so many new ones it's entirely overwhelming. There's one in particular that has been sparking new ideas about Banta's playing. I've said a lot about Banta's style in the past, since he's more well known, and has a distinct style that's near as outstanding as Hylands'. Before I get into the analysis, here's the specific record I'm talking about:
It's an outstanding example of brown wax rag-time, just need to get that out first. This record is a classic example of Banta's entirely solid and well-founded syncopated style. It helps that the performer is Billy Golden, so then it is assured that the song will be folksy and full of itinerant aspects. This particular selection brings out the weirdest of Banta, and not would I have thought I'd be saying that about Banta. According to most records we've heard with Banta's accompaniment, they're pretty restrained and not nearly as wild as those rough folk characteristics of Hylands. This particular record is outstanding from other Banta records because of a significant mistake he makes.
WHAT!
Yes indeed, Banta makes a few significant mistakes here.
These mistakes are actually the same issue had more than once. Only three times have I heard Banta make this mistake he makes on this record. On this record, he completely gets stumped by Golden's adding and subtracting of measures. This is no a bad thing however, it's not something to look at in a negative light. This sort of thing is what adds eccentricity and uniqueness to Banta's playing, even though(in this case), it may be the fault of Golden rather than of Banta. The song itself is really simple with melodies, and has little variation in chord changes and melodic progression, so that already is a sign of its folk classification, and Banta luckily does nothing but enhance the nature of this song. The first half of the record is not nearly as interesting as the second half. Most interesting part is perhaps what Banta does in the extended vamp between the whistling solo and the second verse. This is where the big mistake lies. Banta had likely assumed the vamp would only go for a certain number of bars, an even amount, but Golden elongates it and audibly throws Banta off at 1:40-1:45. Notice how the melody and chord changes are different this time around from the first time. There's the mistake. It's unintended variations, but if you sit down and really try to dissect it, it's actually really interesting, despite the jarring break in the nice steady rhythm. Also note how Banta plays non-syncopated riffs in his extended vamp before the melodic mistake, and how he stays on a "drone note" in the bass. That means that he's only playing a single note throughout the beats of the entire vamp. I have heard Banta do this before, which is curious, because it somewhat corresponds with his written music. This "drone note" concept is something that was unique to Banta, in terms of studio pianists, and it's a really telling characteristic. I'm not exactly sure where he would have acquired this odd habit, but it's likely a manifestation of the long-standing banjo imitation paired with his entirely itinerant musical upbringing.
Take his "Ragged William" for example. There are hints of his "drone note" tendency in the piece, as well as his weird counting of rhythm and measures. So could it be possible that Banta was, at his musical core, more itinerant than Hylands? They all said that Banta was truly gifted(Dan W. Quinn for example), with perfect pitch and the ability to play anything having heard it once, and in any possible key. These are characteristics that yield a natural musical talent that would require little training from the start. Yes, Banta must have had some training, but in his case, he likely had little of it and he refused to rid of oddly acquired habits. Where's another example of this?
Just to point out another example of this extra measure nonsense, here's a 1901 example with Arthur Collins:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder5245
The issue is at exactly the same place as the Golden record, the vamp between the first verse and the chorus.
Now this whole thing may just be an example of the singer and accompanist just disconnecting for a moment, but the combined nature of Banta's overall music writing and common tendencies, it actually opens up many more possibilities that we normally wouldn't think about with Banta.
In keeping with the theme of hot Banta records, Santa Barbara recently put up another great take of "Go Way Back and Sit Down" by Denny:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder5275
Both takes are absolutely fantastic, but the second one is the new transfer recently put up online. In this new alternate take, it seems Banta almost embodies the slightly exaggerated and pushy melodic style that was characteristic of Hylands and his Indiana style. Now it seems that like Hylands, Banta's style could change here and there, and why that is I would be afraid to say. Unlike Hylands, Banta wasn't an alcoholic. Banta was clean living as far as anyone knows. With the amount of respect I have for Banta, I'd hate to throw around any theories assuming such habits. This is especially so when considering his horrid asthma and weak stature. If anyone has any ideas as to why Banta's playing varied here and there, please throw in your input in the comments!
As much as we know about Banta, he's still pretty mysterious in many aspects. We have no idea what he was like as a person. And there are no hints either. At least with Hylands we have a few letters and quotes to work with to piece together a hyper-intelligent eccentric who was rather egotistical, or a typical theatrical-artistic type if you will. With Banta there is nothing to work with, all we have are technical descriptions of the guy, and hundreds of records with only accompaniment. That sweet smile of his though must be a hint that he was a pretty kind and loving man, and this can be supported with the amount of praise studio workers had for him and how much open mourning there was when he died. He was obviously well respected, and someone like Edward Issler would have found much merit and charm in him, especially in the both of them being part of musicians' unions.
Before I close out, I'd just like to say that it's interesting that Banta and Hylands had those inward poking cheeks. Usually when I see that I think back to that picture of Georgie Emerson, looking all beat-up and drug ridden.
Usually such a characteristic leads me to assuming a bit of a drug dependency. With Hylands was know this is true, as he died at 40 for a reason. Banta was already not well-built physically, so maybe Banta needed something to mellow out that rigid intensity...
Sit on that for a while.
Hope you enjoyed this! Sorry it's been a month since the last post...Summer has begun, so hopefully that means more posts.
