Collins and Harlan with Fred Hylands

That's Collins and Harlan around 1916-17. 

(and that's a sketch, by me, of Hylands in 1898)

Now I think I have said this before, but the only reason I don't speak of  Collins and Harlan very often is because of the amount of researching I had to do for my seminar on them back in 2014. It was so much information about them, it made me sort of "sick" of their records for a while. It was so much on them, so much listening, and all else about them. I had to take a break from their music for a while after that seminar. 

I still have a deep liking for them regardless. Not exactly the same kind as before my seminar, but it's a more "enlightened" view, which is in a little bit more detail since then. It was much more complicated than I knew back at my seminar, more than I thought it was. 

A subject that I have been digging into a little bit this evening is some thing that I have briefly mentioned on this blog, Collins and Harlan with Fred Hylands on piano behind them. It was a very convoluted thing really, with those three personalities in a single Columbia studio. From what has been said about all three of these characters, one could easily come to assume that these sessions were battles of not only music, but power, strength, and penetration on the records. At some odd times(many as a matter of fact), Hylands was the loudest sound on the recordings by these three, which was certainly not at all intended. Hylands ofttimes played very loudly and powerfully behind Collins and Harlan, usually playing them with his music, smiling and looking out to them with an expression intending to say, "Look at this boys!" Since they were all good friends, Hylands was very kind and comfortable being around them in the studio, even if he and Collins were at constant battle with their presence in the room. 

On every record I have heard where Hylands is behind Collins and Harlan, he's showing off all his tricks, all over the place. That was a typical thing with Hylands on many records, but when he was behind Collins and Harlan, it was especially so. 

Anyhow, here are some examples of Hylands behind them. 

This first one was a popular number in 1901-02 that Collins recorded first with Joe Natus, but later with Harlan, as was the case with many selections of theirs. Here's Weber and Fields' "Tell Us Pretty Ladies" from 1902.
This is a prime example of Hylands "playing" with them, throwing in all sorts of trills and arpeggios everywhere, missing notes occasionally from looking away from the keyboard, and hitting some nastily loud octaves. There aren't too many records where you can really hear the pianist using the sustain pedal, but this is one where it's very prominent. This is so much so that it reveals some of the "wire" like aspects of Columbia's practically "dead" piano(well, it was beaten half to death by the man who's playing it on this record...). It's a great record in many ways, even if Hylands is much better recorded than Collins and Harlan for some reason. You can literally hear every note he plays here, no questions asked. There aren't many records from the piano accompaniment era(1889-c.1905) that have that amazing range(and sense of dynamics!).

This next one is a rowdy one! Now it's not really intended to be that way(hmm, starting to notice a pattern of Hylands making records not exactly as intended to be...) it's supposed to be a sort of dainty comic song, and that's what Collins and Harlan make it, but Hylands turns it into a rowdy vaudeville act. The one thing that he did on this cylinder that makes it that way is the elbow on the piano thing, which I don't think I need to point out, as it's loud and says for itself:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder6868
This one really calls attention to Hylands. It's one of those records where someone who doesn't consider the piano accompaniment would hear it and think, "Who's that pianist?", mostly from hearing that loud and absurd smash! 
It's very clever though. 
I think I have explained previously what Hylands and Collins' experiences together in the Columbia studio must have been like, but just to refresh that idea, I will explain it again. Collins would come into the studio at Columbia after many other artists for the day, like Dan Quinn, Gaskin, Myers, or Ossman. Collins would come in after Hylands had had some drinks, and was tired of most of the day already. He would not just enter the room only physically, his presence would fill the room with him. Hylands would greet him with that charm he was known for, but reluctantly, seeming as though he were distracted somewhat by something else in his thoughts(in saying that, Hylands actually was like that most often when interacting with people, adding to his obvious narcissism, really ponder that for a moment, think back to the quote from Hylands that I use often on this blog...). Collins knew Hylands was a force in any studio, so he tried his best to manipulate him as best he could, though it was hard to, as Hylands was  quick enough to catch any insidious behaviors at the right moments. Collins' sessions with Hylands must have been amazing battle really, very entertaining hours of word-play, foul language, and the wit of a Yankee and a Hoosier. 

Times with Harlan were a little more kind-spirited. Harlan was not nearly as quick-witted and crass as Hylands, but they understood each other, and felt like they had a genuine connection. Their sessions had much more laughter, jokes, and small mistakes. Of course, Hylands didn't know that they were made a duo until December 1902(two months after they began as a duo), as when they both came in for that first Columbia session, Hylands must have been pleasantly surprised to see that they were that new duo the studio managers were talking about. That certainly must have made for an interesting session. 

I have the feeling that Harlan never completely forgot Hylands, there's just not really any evidence of him mentioning him in his letters to Jim Walsh in the 1930's(unless I'm wrong and someone has read all of them and can tell me otherwise! If so, please do comment!). I have the feeling that it must have been like how Dan Quinn recalled Frank P. Banta fondly later in the same decade. At least I would hope so. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Character Studies---Mike Bernard(c.1875-1936)

"I am the sole champion of Rag-Time!"-stated Bernard in 1900.

Bernard is notorious to many Rag-Time geeks to-day because of his complicated personal life, and also his extraordinary piano skills. His skills were not originally Ragged however, they were trained by the best in the world at the Berlin conservatory. From this, He had bragging rights over all the other pianists that he worked alongside in the 1890's. In 1896, he gained a reputation as a popular new "Rag" pianist, being taught by Mr. Rag-Time himself, Ben R. Harney. Bernard was then obligated to join the many "Rag Time" contests, where many of the top-liner pianists would join to try their hands at some syncopated piano playing. Many professors of the best lines joined, vaudevillians, and wandering pianists as well. Bernard joined in 1897, and immediately was recognised as an amazingly talented and able pianist in this new field of "Rag Time". He proved to be an extraordinaire in this new type of music, and he came out of nowhere. By 1898 and 1899, he was the main performer featured at Pastor's theater under Fred Hylands' direction. Bernard was not just a pupil of Harney's, by 1898, he had become a competitor against Harney. Bernard at this time was beginning to enjoy monumental success, and wanted to experience success at its finest. He was the best-known and most wanted accompanist in the U. S. by 1901, playing behind all the best performers known at that time, including Weber and Fields, and Lillian Russell. With this fame, he was unstoppable, no pianist would dare to play against him, only if they had enough ego to try him. Bernard was the best, and in his presence, not a soul would dare say otherwise. He was traveling around everywhere by 1905, with whatever act was employing hims at the time, and whatever "gigs" he accepted. 


Bernard was a man buried by his ego. In 1896, upon first meeting big, burly Fred Hylands, he challenged him to a cutting contest, and won just by how much the crowds loved him, and that he had more charm with the people who owned the establishment. No matter who it was who stepped in to a cutting contest with Bernard, they would lose quick, because Bernard would always play too many notes for the opposing pianist to comprehend and keep up with. Bernard was one of those men who would never stay with a single girl and be faithful to, as he would grow tired of a lady quick, after having his way with her, he would lose interest too soon for her to realise the truth. Every lady he courted is certainly to be pitied, because they were all victims of his vexing means and selfish mindset. He hadn't much empathy for others, and especially toward his sons, in which he left them to the women that he had them with, and never bothered to care for them. This lack of empathy came from his beliefs that he was an unstoppable pianist and could never be beaten by any other pianists, even though many of the pianists that he was in competition with had better rhythm and simpler melodic ideals than he. His accompaniment skills were similar to that of Fred Hylands, which were very steady and following to the singer or soloist, but also constantly calling for attention from the listeners. Bernard always over took the singers, even if he wasn't playing loudly, it almost always seemed as through the singers were overshadowed by their accompanist, Bernard. Even those singers with the best stage presence couldn't be bothered. When Bernard was urged to make those relatively few Columbia records in the early teen's, all the engineers were watching and listening to hims closely, as it was having the biggest star in all Rag-Time in their studio, twice as more popular than their own previous pianist Fred Hylands. Bernard was such a snitch, that Blossom Seeley(yes indeed the popular 20's singer!) attempted suicide over getting into a violent argument with him in 1909, but since ha cared just enough, he drove her off to the hospital where she eventually recovered from the substance that he drank. In the teen's, Bernard married four other women, and slept with who knows how many, but he was playing everywhere, and his $500 dollars from each of the records he made in 1912 and 1913 proved to be a good lasting amount for him. After several conflicts with numerous women, he was tarting to wind down by 1920, which did not do his ego and status well. He still believed he was the best at his craft, to the day he died. His children hated him, and for as long as they lived held a strong disliking for their father. His style lived on however, as many of the novelty pianists of the 20's said that they were inspired after hearing Bernard play in their youth, as he had many of the novelty ideas set for them by 1905. He is the reason that Ben Harney, Fred Hylands, and other popular pianists he worked alongside are not as well-known to-day, and even in their day as well. 

To close off here are three of those fantastic Columbia's that Bernard made in 1912 and 1913:
Him playing Wallie Herzer's "Everybody Two-Step"

Playing "The 1915 Rag"(in 1913!) by Harry Austin Tierney

playing F. M. Fagan's "That Peculiar Rag"

I hope you enjoyed this! Sorry it's been so many days since my last post, it's been hard to focus on a single thing!