Style Crossover and more Digging

Since the last post, my sole interest in Fred Hylands has been re-sparked. This interest is more regarding his family than his own life, but for the sake of all your sanity, I will skip over all those discoveries, as it's all rather complicated and difficult to explain without speaking in the flesh. 

All I can say regarding this matter is that Hylands definitely looked a little strange for a reason, and that his hair was almost certainly a vibrant firey red. 

I hope you can all see it now. 

Time to move on!

With this reawakening of Hylands interest, this has also prompted a lot more listening to his records and dissecting his style. Like any time that I get on kicks of doing this, I pick up on and notice small things in thoughtless moments. One thing that I have long wondered about is whether Fred Hager listened to his fellow studio pianists before he took over Zon-O-Phone's piano chair in 1900-1902. We can assume that Hager listened to all those other pianists, and even came to know their sound and characteristics well, considering his position in his early recording days. So with all these studio pianists, it should be generally assumed that they all heard each other, considering that they were the ultimate insiders in the business. Each of these pianists had to listen to their records, just to get by and make sure they knew what they were doing. 
Edward Issler certainly listened to his own orchestra's records, as he was so early in the business that he was also the engineer for many of his own recordings. This must have been protocol that Issler established, as he was the first studio pianist there was, anything he did became where the bar was set. So consider that Issler was Frank P. Banta's studio mentor(as I am almost certain he was), with that in mind, Issler would have taught young Banta how to play for the phonograph, how to announce, perfecting timing, and of course would have influenced his playing. This mentorship began in 1892, and it likely lasted until at least 1895, around when Banta was making records with his own orchestra. 
This is actually where this idea came from, Banta's Orchestra. That very concept was almost certainly inspired by Issler. Banta's Orchestra had the same instrumentation as Issler's, and even had a similar sound and played similar repertoire. Recently I grabbed one of those(outstanding) CDs that Tinfoil put out quite awhile ago, just because of the few Banta's orchestra tracks they had on there. I have been studying those quite carefully in the last few weeks, and pairing them up with Issler's orchestra records from around the same time. The similarities are quite shocking really. 
So here are two examples of Banta's orchestra, both were recorded in 1895 or so: 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11738

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder10472

Now listen to two records by Issler's orchestra from around the same time that are of very similar selections:
https://archive.org/details/DancingOnTheHouseTopByIsslersOrchestra1890s

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8101

I picked these particular Issler records because they are very similar selections, the first is a typical syncopated 1890's dance, and the second is a sketch with lots of talking and strange affects. Every one of these four records was recorded around 1895. I am fully convinced that Banta spent a his first few years in the studio with Issler, learning the ropes, and putting together his own Issler-like ensemble. So with all that in mind, it would make sense that some of the earliest Banta accompaniments would sound an awful lot like Issler's playing. So it makes sense why I've become rather confused after learning that Banta began recording in 1892. Banta and Issler crossed over for a little while at North American and later Columbia(before Hylands came along), so it would entirely be logical for Banta to sound a little bit like Issler, particularly since Banta had an impeccable ear. Anyone Banta worked with often would rub off just a bit, and that's guaranteed. 

(Banta in 1900 or so)
There are a handful of records I can think of where Banta seems to have been channelling Issler's playing, and this is especially so whenever I hear Banta play a schottische. Take this record for example: 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17203
This record is a classic example of a very authentic yet progressive schottische. This is what Banta took from Issler, the straight and very steady rhythm. Much like Issler's records, if you count the beat throughout the record, the tempo remains exactly the same at the beginning as at the end. 

But did Banta listen to the others? 
I would assume that too, as those Edison people were always listening to the competition, whatever their position was in the studio. Banta would have known about Hylands at Columbia, as it seems that it was quite a hot thing when he was just starting there. The new fangled "rag time" proved well with the Columbia people, as Hylands attracted some attention that their previous pianists just hadn't. Integrating one of the new hot "rag-timers" was ambitious, but also definitely a fascination. Banta being a still young veteran of the business would have caught on, and probably listened to quite a few of Hylands' accompaniments on records, to brush up(or roughen rather) his own rag playing style(that was already well established from traveling around with Ossman and from who knows what else). 
A good example I can think of is Banta's 1903 Edison of "The Whistling Girl", as in 1897 we don't really hear Banta play that steadily rollicking rag-time, but in 1903(sadly at the very end of his life) we can hear that something like Hylands' records helped him solidify that style. 
Here's the 1903 record:
(skip to 3:30 for the music to start!)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=groIZgk0EJU
So compare that with the 1898 Columbia of "Medley of Negro Songs" by Billy Golden and Hylands:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YTVVTR1BlamV3SHdRWmNGSWU3MHRLR2JkdXRZ/view?usp=sharing
For an even more definite comparison, here's the 1903 Edison of Golden's "medley of Negro Songs" with Banta! 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder2649
(It's kinda messy and transferred too fast, but you get the point). 
It's actually quite similar, despite the time difference. Now Banta likely helped to arrange this medley in the first place in 1898, but when Hylands got a hold of it, you know Banta was compelled to listen and dissect it. Hylands and Banta play the same bell affect at the "hear dem bells" on both takes, which is astounding.  Once again, I am pretty sure that the medley originated with Banta(the arrangement at least), but after it was recorded a few times Hylands took from Banta and Banta took from Hylands. 

Also, listen to one of the many edison and Columbia takes of  Billy Golden's "Turkey in the straw", this is another selection that proves well for distinguishing Banta and Hylands, and what they heard from each other. 
Here's one of my favorite Hylands takes of "Turkey in the Straw":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PgsxttjZ6FY
This particular take very inventive and folksy. Hylands even throws in a few blues like melodies, more so than others I've heard scattered through several records. 
Here's the classic 1897 Edison "turkey in the straw" by Golden with Banta:
https://archive.org/details/TurkeybyGoldenwBanta1897

This is the classic take where Banta plays "Mister Johnson Turn me Loose" at the whistling choruses, which is quite genius. Now you may notice that on the 1898 Columbia, Hylands goes off quoting his own thing(I have no idea what it is he's quoting), but on a certain later Columbia-Hylands take, Hylands plays exactly the same quote, and even integrates the chord changes of "Mister Johnson" throughout the song(which is strange and doesn't really work to be honest):
https://archive.org/details/TurkeyInTheStrawGoldenandHylands1899
In some kind of way, whatever it was, Banta's way of playing the tune with Golden influenced Hylands. One thing is for sure, we can safely say that the 1898 Columbia take is quite older than the 1900 Columbia with Golden. 
I am not quite sure who took from whom here, but there was definitely some inspiration taken, whichever one of them done it. 

Now back to Hager. I mentioned Hager earlier in this post, and I intend to return to him. Where does Hager fall in all this studio pianist crossover? Well actually, Hager can be considered the descendant of the Issler-Banta-Hylands studio style. Hager was in the business by 1897, when it was the ideal time to be listening to piano accompaniments(particularly for a young hot-blooded music student like Hager), so it would seem entirely reasonable for him not only to have a phonograph to hear them, but also to head out to the theaters and clubs they were playing at. Hager likely frequented Pastor's theater in 1896-1897, when ben Harney and Mike Bernard were the biggest new acts there(and when Hylands was also creeping around playing accompaniments). So when he heard cylinders, he was hearing Hylands and Banta, and from the sound of his own accompaniments on Zon-O-Phone later, he certainly did hear them both around the same time.  Now how can I begin to prove this? A good example has been in my thought process for awhile now, and it was right under my ears and I didn't know it. 

That piece actually has become more interesting as I've studied this pianist crossover. This rather eccentric piece of studio insiders was performed often at those Columbia exhibitions by the composer, at a prime time for Hager to be wandering around New York in search of musical inspiration. I can easily see Hager(as well as Banta) going to one of those bright spectacles Columbia held at one point six nights a week. 
I have come to know this Hylands piece very well, spending a long frustrating time learning it, re-learning it, and arranging it in the various keys that I have heard it in. 
Here's the 1898 Columbia orchestra recording to refresh the memory:
https://archive.org/details/DarkeyVolunteerColumbiaorchFredHylands1898
So what has this piece to do with Hager?
Actually, Hylands' queen like nature must have rubbed off on the young impressionable Hager. Hager's 1904 piece "Handsome Harry"(Or Hager if you want to get right to the obvious pun) sounds somewhat similar to Hylands' 1898 piece "The Darkey Volunteer". 
Here's Hager's own orchestra playing his "Handsome Harry":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkKOHd0P6vM

That first section is taken almost directly from Hylands' piece. Some of the orchestration throughout is also rather similar to the 1898 Columbia orchestra recording(which I am almost 100% sure Hylands himself orchestrated). I always like to talk about this piece of Hager's, mostly because I am convinced that the silhouette on the cover is of Hager:

I know, I know, wasn't Hager slimmer? 
Right, that's what I was wondering, but I forget that the piece was published in 1904, and that pretty picture of Hager that was in The Phonoscope was taken in at least 1896-1897. That's almost a decade difference. 

So with that, it's pretty interesting to see all the crossover that these studio pianists had with each other. This group that Hager was involved in at Zon-O-Phone however is another story, quite different from the traditional crowd of Edison-Columbia. Hager was close friends with Banta, Arthur Pryor, and Victor Herbert, which created more diversity, and better connections for Hager in the recording community overall. This crossover creates an interesting story, and a better sense of closeness within these competing record companies. I'm going to have to end it here, as it's late when I'm writing this, and I have exhausted this topic as far as I'll go for now. 

Hope your holidays have been pretty good so far! I hope you enjoyed this! 

Fishing for Syncopation

One thing that has always been a source of interest for me has been finding traces of syncopation on records from before 1897. With a lot of new transfers being put up on Santa Barbara's website, there have been more examples of these records. Traces of syncopation are quite common as it turns out, more so than would be immediately expected with recordings of this age. Since I started to become interested in this music and these records, hearing Rag-Time on them became an overwhelming fascination for me. We can all dig through as much of the band and orchestra rag-time as we want, but to really grasp some of the clearest examples of authentic, rather eccentric, rag-time digging in the most unexpected places yield the best material. 

(the North American of "The Bell Buoy" by J. W. Myers, c.1893, from UC Santa Barbara)

Fishing is the right word it seems for this search for syncopation. This is because it's a hit or miss situation, though it's bound to happen sometimes. Recently, I went back and listened to many of the earliest records from North American and Edison, out of caution for the newly revealed fact that Frank P. Banta worked for North American starting in 1892. With that in place, I have been able to recognize similar characteristics to late 1890's Banta on some of these early records. Of course I'm going out and saying that he's on all those North American records from 1892-1894, but he's likely on many of them now that we know. Much of the syncopated style that's present on some of those North American records is now likely to be Banta, rather than the well-assumed to be Issler. Of course this period of time is very hard to tell, since it's just after the point where the very detailed Edison-North American ledgers drop off. But no matter, we still have our ears to listen! 
Now the most recent record that I found on my fishing trip for syncopation is one of the most outstanding examples I've ever heard.  Here's the link to the record:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjch0xipuDs

So the first thing to note here, is how the piano player starts playing in the middle of the announcement. When I first heard this record I assumed that was a keen indication of Banta, since the time frame for the record would indicate a very green Banta in terms of recording experience. That made set the year to 1892 at first, according to Banta's first year in recording. But after taking a few listens and being consulted by an expert in brown wax, 1893 seems more likely as the year. 
The second thing to note before I dig into the piano accompaniment is the singer. Of course it's very hard to tell who that singer is, as it's no one who was a regular in the studio around that time, though this singer is likely someone who wasn't a studio regular. The singer at points of the song actually rushes the rhythm just enough to make it almost swing. Yes, I mean it by using that. One example is at 1:28-1:29. Another good example is at 1:50-1:52. The last example is at 2:42-2:45. This may seem too slight to pick out but it's definitely noticeable, and significant enough to note. This sort of swing is pretty much exactly what Charles Asbury did on his records naturally. Just to hear the comparison, here's a great example by Asbury from 1895:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/16UwDuQli9LJ36hsiyAV5yTXXUF4js5IT/view?usp=sharing

All-right, now for the real reason I am still getting over my astonishment of this record, the piano accompaniment. Other than the weirdness at the very beginning in the announcement and the completely broken intro, the accompaniment is particularly interesting. There are plenty of very audible mistakes, which is fine, but part of the reason I think the pianist is a very young and green Banta. It's very nice to be able to hear all the low notes in the accompaniment, which adds a level of charm that is hard to describe. The first solo the pianist plays isn't too special, rather typical of accompaniment of that time, but the second solo is where it's at. 
That solo at 2:00 is absolutely shocking to hear. And here's why...
It may not be very syncopated, but it emulates those primitive march-rag-negro dances of the early and mid 1890's, with the first part of the solo sounding like a late-1890's rag pattern(even though it's technically looser a variation on the accompaniment done throughout the record). But what exactly does it sound like? Well I'll tell you, this is what:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_dI6BZt06U
It absolutely astounded me to hear such similarity, despite there being little syncopation, it's a much whiter take on the style that Scott Joplin and other early black rag pianists would have been playing as early as 1893(as according to Will Marion Cook!). The basic structure of the solo is similar to the infectious themes of Joplin's earliest rag compilations. 

And keep in mind that this record is from around 1893!
So with all that being said, I do not want you to think that I am certain the pianist is Banta, but one thing is for sure, that pianist is way too sloppy and eccentric to be Edward Issler. The pianist is very similar to Banta, as the style on this record is likely how a young and still musically forming Banta likely sounded. By 1897-1898, even as early as 1896 we can hear Banta having the same basic style as this 1893 record, but more refined and less sporadic. 

This record led me to thinking of and going back to listening to those records I have known for having syncopation on them. Another example(in fact one of the most overt ones I've heard), is Spencer's 1893-94 or so record of "Mamie Come Kiss your Honey Boy". 

(Spencer c.1888). 
This Spencer record has been a source of reference for me when looking for authentic syncopation on records before 1897. here's a link to the record just for reference:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YSVN3QVBpZU4yUFRTLWVRYnZJZEdnanQtdW9B/view?usp=sharing
The smoothness of Spencer's syncopation is really something. All the syncopation on this record is solely done by Spencer, not the pianist. Though when fishing for syncopation on these records the vocalist is just as important as the accompaniment. What's particularly noteworthy about Spencer's singing on this is that he throws in two different kinds of syncopation, unlike using a single type and sprinkling it in one or maybe measures. We get the typical schottische syncopation at the beginning of each verse, but then we get little bits of the same swing that's all over Asbury's record throughout to make things interesting. 

The Spencer example has that more typical syncopation that's all over Schottisches of the 1850's-1890's, and in case you're unsure what exactly this rhythm is, you can hear it played several times on this 1894 Issler record:
 http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17058
While that type of rhythm was common, the typical cake-walk syncopation we know of wasn't either!
On this 1894-ish Issler record the overt cake-walk syncopation is played by the entire orchestra, which is nice to hear it emphasized so clearly:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1M77MA15X0lC02G4Qhy-PhYWtQ1_ZGz3K/view?usp=sharing
On the above Issler record, we can hear both types, but the cake-walk syncopation adds a level of interest to keep me listening, and of course I still haven't heard an Issler's orchestra record I don't like...
With Issler we already know that he was fully capable of playing smooth syncopation as early as 1889, so to hear him play both types so early with his orchestra, and likely as accompaniment, doesn't come as a surprise. But of course every example is one to note, add to the pile to use for proof later. 
Someone like Banta I would already assume to be playing syncopation of all types as early as 1893, because of his spotty musical upbringing, as well as his busy times working with Ossman. Banta was part of the generation that really boosted rag-time into white society, so I wouldn't put it past him to be playing such rhythms so early. 

When doing this fishing, sometimes things are a miss, records you would assume to be very interesting and have a fair amount if syncopation don't end up living to the expectations. Anything by George W. Johnson is a perfect example of this. Not every version of his four songs is as promising as his late-1890's Columbia's with Fred Hylands. His 1894-ish version of "The Laughing Song" that Santa Barbara put up recently is a great example of this. 
Here's that record:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17216
(it's rather messy, beware!)
This record should have bits of syncopation on it, but it's got the closest thing to it. Despite the absence of overt syncopation, the accompaniment is still very interesting, and rather eccentric. This record, just by the circumstances is likely another early Banta record. Though I would not really say the accompaniment is perfectly like Banta's style, the year in conjunction with the song's arranger(Banta!) would lead me to think it's him on piano, but do not quote me on that. 

When we get to 1896-97, the kind of syncopation that we hear in accompaniments is much different. This is when we get to the more familiar "rag" style. But as I've done previous posts on before, 1897 is still one of the most difficult years for pianist identification. The more 1897 Columbia's I hear, the more I lean to a single pianist style. I still am set on the assumption that Fred Hylands started working at Columbia by mid-1897 at the least, but I'm still trying to figure out where that cutoff would be exactly. Those "new York city" Columbia's are the most frustrating for me in terms of piano accompaniment. That time of mid-1897 at Columbia was when they had a few staff changes, pianists included. With those records that Ossman made for Columbia in 1897, I would place the pianist as being Banta, as they were still performing together onstage around that time, though for someone like Billy Golden, that's a different story. 
This leads me to get back to my nemesis record, Golden's 1897 Columbia of "Uncle Jefferson". 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11728
I still consider this record one of the earliest examples of serious rag-time piano accompaniment. 
For early 1897 it's rather raggy and eccentric. I am still bent on who that pianist is. Many of the characteristics sound like early Hylands, but still sound a little bit like Issler(or maybe George Schweinfest!). Now here's one thing for sure, the pianist on that "uncle Jefferson" is the same on this 1897 Columbia:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1IqZr-mbGekuZjOWUTOvjf5q9kRcD4vc7/view?usp=sharing
Exactly the same kind of mid-bar syncopation is present here as the "Uncle Jefferson". 
The "uncle Jefferson" is certainly more sporadic and eccentric, but the eccentricity is similar in different parts of the accompaniment. After listening to lots of Banta recently, it occurred to me that I may have been blinded by my assumption of Banta only working for Edison. I know it's not the same song, but it's the other George W. Johnson hit--"The Laughing Coon"; this record I listened to recently and pulled apart again proved something with this conundrum. That pianist on the 1897 "Uncle Jefferson" may be Banta! I was so set in the idea that Banta didn't cross over that I was missing key characteristics that were evident of Banta. This record here has a lot of the same characteristics as the 1897 Columbia of "the Laughing Song" in the previous link:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder15526
The main similarity here is in the smooth quick passages he plays at the end of every solo. 
So again, don't quote me on this, but Banta was likely one of the sub pianists they had at Columbia in that awkward period in 1897 before Hylands came along. Without Banta however, we wouldn't get some of the best early example of overt rag-time on records, such as his 1897 take of "Turkey in the Straw" with Billy Golden:
https://archive.org/details/TurkeybyGoldenwBanta1897
It's because of Banta that we get such oddly authentic examples of early syncopation on records, including his earliest recordings from 1892-1895. 
After 1897, we get all the good stuff. That's the cutoff for the more varied styles of rag-time showing up in piano accompaniments on records. Banta holds forth with the strange mix of itinerant and classically trained, whilst all the same we get Hylands and his dense, eccentric Ohio river valley/Chicago style that is like no other. 
Unfortunately Hylands' recording legacy has been neglected for over 100 years. Even in the era he lived his studio work was very rarely spoken of. It almost seems like those years he spent in the studio were like a dream. It was spoken of so highly when it happened and was re-imagined, but it vanished from all existence with the person who dreamt it. But I don't need to ramble down this path again...I've spoken plenty about the tragedy of the tragedian of Fred Hylands. 










Anyway...
This afternoon I listened to quite a few of those beloved Climax records, and noticed something. The pianist on those Climax records was always really nice and played dense accompaniments. For a long while I have assumed that to be Hylands, since it's so dense, complicated, and very rhythmic. Well, I listened to two versions of "a Rag-Time Skedaddle" recorded around the same time for Columbia, and Zon-O-phone, and noticed that they are the same pianist. 
Yes, Zon-O-Phone AND Columbia--same pianist. 
Here's the Columbia:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFRtiG6LyvY
And here's the Zon-O-Phone: 
https://soundcloud.com/jack-stanley-881056448/ragtime-skedaddle-frank-mazzlotta-1902?utm_source=soundcloud&utm_campaign=share&utm_medium=facebook
The pianist pretty much is playing exactly the same accompaniment. 
Okay, so I do not know who this pianist would be. But considering that it's Zon-O-phone and Columbia we're dealing with here, I would lean toard Fred Hager more than say Justin Ring. 

The reason I lean more toward Hager is because he had come kind of connections at Columbia as early as 1901, playing violin for them and all. 

With Justin Ring I wouldn't know. 

To further this unusual connection between Columbia-Climax-Zonophone, I listened to even more Climax records and Zon-O-Phone's back to back and noticed the same exact piano style on both. 

I listened to this one here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvNiWY1Cj3c

back to back with a 1901 Zon-O-phone of John Terrell singing "Whistling Rufus", and they had the same rough an dense characteristics that give the Climax in the link above its charm. The most interesting thing is of course the whistling chorus at the end, with all sorts of interesting dense chords and bass note rhythm. 

A good comparison is another John Terrell record from around the same time as the Climax above:

https://ia800609.us.archive.org/34/items/CollectedWorksOfJohnTerrell/TaintAGoinToWeepNoMore1902_64kb.mp3

The overall touch and characteristics are the same. Also, if you've heard many Zon-O-Phone's from around this time you'll recognize that dense piano accompaniment that always has chords that have lots of notes. Luckily the quality of those records caught all those essential notes. 

So, it seems that now when we come across a Columbia in a period of time where we know Hylands wasn't in New York, we can assume that pianist to be one of those strange Zon-O-Phone pianists. Now here's the thing about that pianists' style, it sounds a lot like Hylands' style, but it's most certainly not. Justin Ring wasn't extracted from a mid-western background, so I wouldn't expect him to sound similar to Hylands, however, Hager would. Hager had basically the same upbringing as Hylands, with his father even having the same occupation as Hylands(locomotive engineer), and starting to play music around the same time. Also, Hager was from far enough west to have a style similar to Hylands, when thinking in terms of regional piano(rag) styles. Hager was from rural Pennsylvania, which technically should yield a similar style to the neighboring state(Ohio), which is where Hylands' style was developed. 

Even the slightest characteristics like how (the pianist) plays the melody on this  Climax record at 1:00 in is significant:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEUAdT9lzIM

It's slightly exaggerated and almost syncopated. That's very much like the Indiana/Ohio river valley style of Hylands, but that pianist for Climax is definitely not Hylands. 

I should quit it here, I've written much more than I thought on these matters for this post. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Picture analysis and deconstructing Frank Banta's style

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: 

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17123

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.

Charles Asbury and New Transfers

It seems Archeophone is back at it again, not like they aren't always. This next record that they're working on now is just phenomenal. I was looking around on Facebook this week, and came across a bit of samples for the new record that Archeophone is planning to release. This new record is only a two sided 45, but what's on it is tantalizing. For a while, I have highlighted the importance of Charles Asbury's records, or at least the one that is currently online. In terms of Rag-Time historians, his records are among the best case studies of the earliest examples. The one we've all heard online is his 1894 "Haul the Woodpile Down", and it never fails to amaze the Rag-Time historians. 

The only image I had seen of Asbury was a crude drawing from the December 1892 issue of The Phonogram. On that page, Asbury is surrounded by all the favorites, such as Len Spencer, Russell Hunting, John York AtLee, etc. It was surprising to actually see Asbury there in that bunch of recording stars, since we who know about him wouldn't think of associating him with them. 

Maybe we're mistaken by doing that? 

Here's that picture I'm talking about: 

It's pretty crude, and the quality of the scan isn't that great...

Now here's the thing about Asbury that's intriguing, there's nothing known about him! 

I remember years ago attempting to do some digging on Asbury, but was led nowhere. I did eventually find someone who had done thew same thing and assumed they had found him, a minstrel performer and banjoist born around 1852-53. The evidence and details were a but questionable, but it was and still is hopeful to see an interest in his mystery. The fact that his records are so good, and are such outstanding outliers to the other "coon song" singers, is what makes him attractive to record scholars. His records are nothing like the authentic rugged records of George W. Johnson, or the educated primitive nature of Len Spencer's(before 1897). Asbury's voice and banjo playing sound more like George W. Johnson than anyone else, but here's a thought...
Think of Silas Leachman: 

We are for certain that Leachman learnt all the music he recorded by ear, never from music. With Leachman we also get the benefit of his upbringing in Kentucky at a prime period of time, which is essential to his unique style. In keeping in mind Leachman's method of learning new music, we need to know what distinct characteristics to his singing and playing(of piano) would indicate this. 
It can be hard to tell whether someone learns music by ear, but being someone who does that myself, I can catch the signs. 
One important thing to notice is if the lyrics are switched around or are phrased differently from the written ones. This is why I almost always check to lyrics to certain songs to compare. This sort of thing is all over the place on Leachman's records, more particularly his brown wax records made at home. His records such as his 1895 or so recording of "old Uncle John" are perfect examples of how he switched around the lyric phrasing, even the time signature in the chorus. In the written music, the chorus is in 6/8, but on Leachman's take, the chorus is in 3/4. This sort of thing is a signature to leachman, even on many of his later Victors, all of these things are present here and there. But of course why am I saying this? We are certain that Leachman played by ear, it was written about in that long Chicago Tribune article from 1895 about him. In Leachman's case, we're just trying to make sure that the things correspond correctly to confirm it. 

What has all of this to do with Asbury?
Actually, quite a lot. 

After being able to hear a little more of Asbury this week, the ideas that I've formulated about Leachman have transferred to Asbury's style. The only reason I have any idea of this is because he had all the signs that would indicate learning by ear. Another important factor to this theory is the fact that the performer bring to the recording horn tunes that were never published, or cannot be traced historically. This is similar with Billy Golden and George W. Johnson. However, Johnson had the privilege of having Frank P. Banta to actually write down the songs that were his specialties, and arrange them exactly as Johnson performed them. 
Asbury was alone with his music, performing tunes that were rare even to the most popular recording stars. The very unpublished(or impossible to trace) tune of his I'm thinking of is "Haul the Woodpile Down". Wherever the tune came from, it's a very old, perhaps early American, song with elements similar to "Amazing Grace" and songs related.
Here's the record just to refresh the memory:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8103

 With this in mind, the sample of Asbury singing "New Coon in Town"(released by Archeophone this week) already exhibits these essential elements of ear learning. The chorus has mixed around phrases and added words, without the complicatedness of the original song published in Chicago in 1884. This was a popular song as the "coon song" era started to take shape, so it doesn't particularly come as a surprise that he recorded this tune. The way he plays the song is particularly interesting, since it's nothing like the way that all of us Ragtimers play it. One of my good friends listened to the bit of the "new Coon in Town", and immediately assumed it was a different tune with the same way, but that's not true. That is indeed the same tune that was often quoted, including in an article about George W. Johnson's domestic troubles:

Yep, those are the same lyrics, but switched around as expected. Just as Leachman was, Asbury also had all the aspects of a fully natural musician, with near perfect vocal pitch, and a very attractive style of banjo and singing. 
All of this makes Asbury more tantalizing for sure, though keep in mind that all of what I just said about him is just a theory, and none of it may be true. Hopefully there's at least a basic level of information on him in the notes that accompany the record Archeophone is putting out next month. 
I just can't wait! The samples are just unbelievable!



Now to move on from well hidden mystery. I said in the last post that I would do some more digging in Santa Barbara's new transfers, and in the past few weeks, that's exactly what I did. The excitement is never ending now that they're gradually putting up random brown wax transfers that have been sitting there on the website without any means of hearing them. Since there was so much to talk about on just a single Spencer record, there's actually more Spencer records put up since I dug deep into that c. 1895 record of "Mamie!...". Before I get into those Spencer records, I should most certainly dig into Hylands records solely. 
The amount of good Hylands examples has almost doubled on Santa Barbara's website, which is absolutely fantastic. There's one particular example that stands far better than the others, and it's this seemingly modest one:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder14585
Never have I heard such mastery from Hylands. We can hear how well he had perfected the Banjo imitation style he supposedly played. What's genius about this particular take is that he's rarely playing the actual melody with Schweinfest, but he's playing accompanying melodic lines and quick banjo imitation patterns all over the piano. It's also rather shocking to note that the rather slow(but perfect for a cake-walk) tempo is kept constant throughout. This isn't often the case with early examples of authentic improvised Rag-Time. It's records like these where we are reminded why we love Hylands, and it's for that distinct and weird Rag style that is easy to pick out from the others. Of course, after hearing such recordings like this from 1899-1900, it makes me more anxious to hear this:

Such recordings as the subject matter here are good explanations for such compositions by Schweinfest of all people. 
Speaking of Roger Harding(the publisher of the Schweinfest piece), this reminds me of another new transfer that includes Harding. At last, there are a few different takes of "Little Alabama Coon" online. The more takes I've heard have been by Gaskin, which are the best ones, because of that horrid scream he does on each one. While the same little sketch is one every take, one thing can be assured always different, the end piano solo. This particular take is by the Greater New York Quartette, which included Steve Porter and Roger Harding on this record specifically. 
here's the record:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder13403
To be honest, I only listened to this the first time because I knew there would be a dance part piano solo at the end. Supposedly Issler put together the arrangement that we hear Gaskin do, with the song and dance part and everything. That makes no different here however. That solo Hylands plays at the end is perfectly in his style. We even get the bonus of him playing those rare walking bass octaves, which is a distinct characteristic, but one that isn't always present. Like almost every solo by any early studio pianist(after Issler), it has got to be a quote of another song, but this one has me stumped. Most of the time it takes a few listens to get the more obscure musical jokes of the studio pianists. Also, listen to the very end, there's a loud thump! as though something fell over and a voice acknowledging the crash. It's clearly a mistake because it's so abrupt and it caught by some other voices far back there. 

Since there 's another earlier take(the last one is from 1898 or so), that one should be exhibited too. This take is transferred too fast, but it's still Gaskin's original take, likely from 1893 or 1894, which is entirely valuable. 

That's Gaskin around 1895. 
So here's that transfer:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11763
There's that signature scream. I know he's supposed to be a little black kid, but this take is where it sounds absolutely the most hilarious. I'm learning overtime that Gaskin was weird, more so than any of us could imagine. A little Irish leprechaun of a man with lots of energy left vacant from so many slow songs. The wildness comes alive on records such as his 1893 ish "Little Alabama Coon". By the way, the pianist on that is most likely Issler, indicated by the year and circumstances of how around that time I've seen newspaper evidence of Gaskin performing that very tune with Issler. 

Now to move to something that's a little questionable for me. 
Now you all know how much I'm in love with Fred Hager, but I cannot stand his violin records. They are such an infernal racket, and are generally boring selections.

However, Santa Barbara put a few Hager records that are of more interesting selections. The first interesting selection was his "Rag Time Medley", which ought to be good, given the chances are very high Frank P. Banta is the pianist behind him. Here you go:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11744
Just imagine it, pretty Hager looking not too different from how he did above playing violin with Banta. What a beautiful thing to imagine...
There are a few reasons I can't stand Hager's violin records, one is that he's rarely in tune(that's my perfect pitch coming in), and that he slurs notes so much that some of them blend together and make it more out of tune. This particular record is rather entertaining because Banta is keeping the rhythm nice and constant, with added syncopation so complement Hager, but Hager trips all over the place. 
Though, they did seem to put up the best Hager violin solo I've heard so far, and it's from a bit later than expected. 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11385
I had assumed most of his violin records were from 1899 and 1900, but I guess 1901 still works out. At least Banta's still there behind him to keep him from tripping over. For such a virtuoso and matinee idol, you'd think that he would embody the long passed soul of Niccolo Paganini. Hager unfortunately was nowhere close to that, despite his musical status in music conservatories and with symphony musicians all over. He was better at arrangements and keeping bands together turns out. 

Seems we're getting warmer to Spencer, so how about some George W. Johnson? Johnson's records are always different, since the arrangements were basically only based on chord changes and weren't exactly melody driven, each take is very different. We may not exactly know the origins of Johnson's "The Laughing Coon", but it likely had something to do with Banta, just as "the Laughing song" had back in 1894. Of course, the take i'm going to use here is not one of the typical Banta Edison takes, it's another one of those ragged Hylands Columbia takes. 
Unfortunately, this take is transfered really quiet, likely due to it being played quite often in its life of 120 years:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder16897
It's really hard to hear, but from what we can hear of the piano accompaniment, it's really ragged and has all of those signature early Hylands characteristics. If you know the song as well as I do, you should be able to keep track of how the song goes and what might be played at certain times. That's the only way I've been able to understand and pull apart this recording at all, since it's so worn out and quiet. Hopefully I will be able to almost completely transcribe the accompaniment on this record, because in the end, this one is certainly worth the time and effort. This may be a case of pieceing together if anything. 

All right, time to get to that new Spencer transfer!
These are obviously the most exciting new things for me, since Santa Barbara has had quite a few good ones listed for a while, and none have been transferred. Now little by little they're being put up, which is a great way to get them. The one in particular that has been a source of fascination is his c.early 1898 Columbia of "Kentucky Babe". It sounds like it could have been recorded in late-1897, but its most certainly in the early era of Spencer with Hylands(pre publishing firm I mean). 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11394
Unlike every other take I've heard of this tune, this take is quick and jumpy, rather than following the very theme, that Spencer announces at the beginning, of the song(Picanniny Lullaby). That unusual fact makes this record all the more charming though. The piano accompaniment was recorded really well, which makes for a nice balance of Spencer and Hylands, and that's always good. We can hear them both equally, which isn't always the case. I must note, since it peeves me, that Spencer's pitch is not great on this take either, it's too reminiscent of his pre 1896 records...All I can comment on that is that Hylands is there, and his influence of anything addictive is likely present. 
That may also be part of why the song was played quicker and more playful than the slow and calming that it usually was. Who knows, with Spencer and Hylands, anything's possible. 
But what about that accompaniment? Wow. Hylands plays pretty nice throughout the record, playing weird inversions and voicings of chords like usual, but at the whistling solo at the end---all hell breaks loose! The quick and complicated banjo imitation is entirely unexpected. He's playing so many notes it's hard to fathom. It's based on the banjo imitation form, whatever he's playing, but it's got all of those 32nd notes that he was known for. At least we have more evidence of his frequent playing of banjo imitations, this time before 1900, and rather early in his collaborations with Spencer. Rag-Time scholars take note!




Anyway, there are quite a few new transfers I need to get to, but I've exhausted my immediate knowledge for the night, so I've got to leave it here. 

Hope you all enjoyed this!