Thursday, March 17, 2016

Some Irish performers for March 17th

Well, since it's St. Patrick's day, I thought it would be fit to do a post on many of the Irish singers and performers in the earliest days of the recording business. Many of these performers were either half Irish of were full-blooded as such. One of these half Irish performers is:
Vess Ossman. 
Yes, I know, his name is fully Dutch-Germanic, but the Irish comes from his mother. He did not often acknowledge his Irish ancestry, but many knew it was there, and often made jokes about how his terrible temper came from his side of him. As a stereotype of the Irish, his temper fit this very well, firey and quick. Much like the rumors of his accompanist Banta being Jewish, the Irish temper of Ossman's spread like wildfire, and since he practically worked with everyone, it was hard to be avoided. Ossman did not really record too many Irish songs, again referring back to how he did not well recognise the Irish in him. Even with his reluctance to acknowledge it, he did look like a true mix of the two nationalities that created him-- German and Irish. 

Now to begin with some records, not really getting to the Irish ones just yet.
Here are a few good and fun Ossman records: 


recorded in 1898 with Fred Hylands(played a little too slow though...)
The tune just above "The Tyro Mazurka", also has the alternative title called "The Climbing Rose Mazurka". 

Ossman and Hylands' "Whistling Rufus" is among one of the best recordings of Banjo Rag-Time from before 1900(just barely before 1900...) in my opinion, as you not only get a classic in Rag-Time as the piece, but both performers are Rag-Time eccentrics. It is played extremely well also, Ossman is perfect, and even Hylands is flawless!(which as we all know is very unusual!). 

Now to begin with the most famous of the Irish singers on early records:
Dan W. Quinn. 
Yes indeed, he was the most Irish of the early singers, that wasn't an Irish tenor. More like an Irish baritone! Quinn was Irish on both sides of his family, and what's so great about him is that when he sang, he genuinely sounded Irish, no dialect needed. It wasn't thick and hard to understand like George Gaskin, but it was slight to the point of where sometimes it couldn't be noticed. The only way to really catch his Irish dialect is to be listening just enough to how he pronounced certain words when he sang. He was pretty much the more authentic version of Edward M. Favor. By this it is meant that Quinn was actually Irish, and did many Irish songs very well, but Favor was not actually not Irish at all. That was a very strange thing to me when
I first learned of that, as I knew of Favor as the one who popularized "Who threw the Overalls in Missus Murphy's Chowder", and many more Irish songs, but he was actually of French descent. Quinn's Irish songs were much more authentic, in more ways than just the Irish part of it. 

To begin with the records by Quinn, I won't start with the Irish songs outright, just to save that for a little later. The first one I have here is one that is dear to my heart in many ways, because it was the first 1890's tune that I learned after hearing the cylinder. "Put me Off at Buffalo" by Quinn with Hylands, 1898.
When I first heard this cylinder three years ago, I was captivated by the piano accompaniment behind Quinn. The song was hilarious, and I enjoyed the lyrics very much, but the piano was really the thing that caught the attention of my ears first. At that time, that was when I was really wanting to know who that pianist was. Didn't know at the time, and didn't think I ever would. Well, I know that it's Fred Hylands now, and that he was probably tipsy by the time that this take rolled around. Yes indeed, and you can clearly hear many of his mistakes, and this time, they're not really very well obscured(like that one at 1:54. Ooh! That's a painful one!). Furthermore, Quinn's Irish dialect can be heard easily on this one. 

This next one is not exactly an Irish song, but as Quinn did, he pretty much made anything he sang that way, just by how he was. Now this one was actually one that Quinn was, and still is apparently, known for singing. Here's "Glorious Beer" by Hylands and Quinn, recorded in 1899. Yep, this was recorded right smack in the middle of Hylands running that publishing firm. Hylands just goes absolutely wild on this one. I don't really know how to put it into words, but he's playing as many notes as he possibly can in a single few bars. I think. Well, he attempts to at least. The ironic thing about Quinn singing this is that he was a prominent supporter of the temperance movement. Wow. That's very weird. Also it's comical to take into consideration that the pianist behind him is probably drunk, or drugged of some kind(his playing is awfully fast and anxious...). This fact adds to the paradox that surrounds the circumstances of this cylinder. Hylands probably enjoyed recording this song. 

Now onto Quinn's Irish songs. Now we known that he made many of them, including the one that Edward Favor was known for(that I said before in this post), and many others of that kind. The first one I would like to showcase is Quinn's "Nothing's Too Good for the Irish" with Fred Hylands on piano, recorded in 1898. This was probably recorded within the same week or few weeks of "Put Me Off at Buffalo". Why? Well, listen to how similar the piano sounds on this one compared to his cylinder of "Put Me Off at Buffalo", though the piano is quite a bit more out of tune on this one. It's almost painfully out of tune on this one. I really love Hylands' accompaniment on this one, even if the piano is VERY out of tune here. The "Irish jig" solo at the end is particularly funny and really playful. It just goes to show that Hylands was a true Vaudeville pianist, and could play all of the corny vaudeville riffs we think of for that era. 

Another song that Quinn was famous for was recording "And the Band Played On", which is, as I have heard, still a popular song that is representing of the spirit of the 1890's. You can hear his version of this with the piano accompaniment by Fred Gaisberg, recorded in November 1895. This is a classic, hands down. Both in terms of Irish songs and just recordings in general, it's as such.
This last Irish song by Quinn is actually one of the earliest examples of his recordings that I know of. It's called "Oh Missus O'Flaherty, What Did You Mean Be That?" recorded in 1893, with Fred Gaisberg once more. What an obscure one! It's very rare, and strange in the range of Quinn's repertoire. Quinn was known for songs exactly  like this one, Irish comic songs, as being Irish, he made any song full of Irish wit, regardless of the circumstances. 

The next two Irish singers I would like to showcase are jointly going to be showcased, George J. Gaskin and Arthur Collins.
Gaskin(c. 1894)
Collins(c.1904-05)

To begin with Gaskin, he was actually claimed to be the most popular 1890's recording artist. That fact has been debunked since the 1930's, as it's certain that there's really no way to know who made the most records in that time, Gaskin, or Len Spencer(though I am convinced that Spencer made more records and was more committed to making records...) Gaskin was a singer who worked as a carpenter before Edison's men discovered him, and since old man Edison had a nitch for Irish tenors, Gaskin was golden to him. This was back in 1891, and for some reason, his voice was perfect for the phonograph. He was immediately considered one of the best recording artists in the business, and by 1895, he was making Berliners and Columbia cylinders like mad, as the record buyers often came to exhibitions solely to buy Gaskin's records. Now, to begin with some of his Irish songs, which he did many of(not surprisingly...). 
Here is his version of "My Wild Irish Rose" with Fred Hylands, recorded in 1898. Again, Hylands is probably tipsy when they recorded this, as there's this one thing that he plays in the solo at the beginning. Hm. What? It's very strange, and it doesn't really make any sense, much like how he played behind Quinn on "Glorious Beer". All that needs to be said it that there are too many notes. Anyhow, Gaskin is fantastic on this one, not too showy, and not too modest. Just the right amount of Irish dialect. 

This next one is also a famous one that Gaskin recorded, as well as about a handful of other recording stars at the same time. Here is a take of "Bedelia". Now that you've heard that one, here is a different take of it:
Both of these have Hylands on piano, doing completely different things on both of them. They are both fantastic records nonetheless, the best takes of the song in my opinion. 

This next one is a rarer one by Gaskin, but it's an Irish song for sure. Here you go: https://ia601409.us.archive.org/12/items/GeorgeJGaskin/GeorgeJGaskin-TheBestintheHouseisNoneTooGoodForReilly.mp3 This is a very odd one, but it's also a very interesting configuration of people. Why? Well, if your ears are good enough, you probably might recognise one of the other voices in this cylinder. Yes indeed, it's Russell Hunting! The two voices cheering on this cylinder are Russell Hunting and Fred Hylands. Hunting was also another Irish performer(not really being Irish though...) as we all know that he was known as "The Original Michael Casey", which was a character that a whole generation of people grew up with. Much like how Spongebob Squarepants is an icon of the younger generation now, the "Michael Casey" character was like this as well. 

Before I get to Collins, I should probably have a Hunting "Casey" sketch listed here, as those are all iconic in Irish humor. Just for giggles and genuine satirical comedy, here's Hunting's famous "Casey At the Telephone" recorded around February of 1896(this was recorded before he went to jail). This is funny every time I hear it. It's truly the genius of Hunting at work, though it might seem like simple vaudeville, it's actually amazing in many respects, as it's before he was sent to prison, and he uses many kinds of balancing techniques just for his voice. Since this was recorded before he was sent to prison, his humor is very slightly crass, which makes it even more charming, and realistic. 

Anyhow, here are a few Irish Collins records. This first one is one that Steve Porter was more known for(who was also an Irish singer, but wasn't Irish). Here you go with Collins and Hylands' "Armful of Kittens and a Cat" recorded in 1901. Hylands is good on this one! So is Collins, with his not-the-best Irish dialect. Collins was half-Irish, but was very much raised in a Catholic household, as the 10 children and Irish mother can say all for itself. Collins recorded many Irish songs solo before teaming with Byron Harlan in 1902, including many with the accompaniment of Frank P. Banta, not just Hylands. 

Now, this next one is actually the most politically-incorrect of any of the Irish songs that I have had here on this post. For some reason, I have the sheet music for this tune, anyhow before I get to that story I have with that music, here's the cylinder:
"The Mick Who Threw the Brick" by Collins with Frank P. Banta, recorded in 1900. For some reason the piano sounds a little bit like a banjo at some points of this cylinder. 
Anyhow, I have a very strange story in sheet music collecting with this song. I got the music to "The Mansion of Aching Hearts" at a sheet music giveaway three years ago, and I long thought it was just that tune that I got. Until about a year after I got the music, I was looking through my album of music, and I saw it once more, so I slid it out of the sleeve, and found that there was another piece attached to it. Guess what it was... ... "The Mick Who Threw the Brick" from 1899. WHOA! That was very bizarre! The cover of the music was not there, but all the rest of it was, and I didn't know that I had it until then. 

Now to end this post, because this post could go on for a VERY long time, I would like to end the St. Patrick's Day festivities with the descriptive selection by Banta's Popular orchestra called "Scene at and Irish Ball" recorded in 1895. Now this cylinder explains quite a lot about Banta's doings in Chicago in the mid-1890's, as this was recorded for the Chicago Talking machine Company around the time that W. H. Krell was getting to the top, and when Fred Hylands was a prominent director at that time. Well, it's a fantastic cylinder nonetheless, with all sorts of fun antics, that probably include Banta speaking at some point(not sure where though...). 
For a fun extra, here's Spencer singing a very strange but funny Irish song in 1903:
(not sure who the pianist is, though it's probably Hylands since it's Spencer singing...)



I hope you all had a great St. Patrick's Day! 







  




Sunday, March 13, 2016

Studio pianos from 1891 to 1905

I had a nice long talk with my dearest friend Ryan Wishner last evening, and we discussed for a brief period of time the possible dynamic of the oldest studio pianos. Now I have an ad on a piece of sheet music from 1890 that advertises a brand of piano being used by the North American Phonograph company.It was this piece in fact:
I did not at all notice that that very piece of music had that endorsement until many months after I got it. I picked it up randomly out of a pile of music somewhere, without having to pay any money for it, just because it was a march endorsing  piano brand. The added bonus was the ad praising the brand for being a favourite of the Edison phonograph and North American companies. In fact, it is in this picture here:
(from Tinfoil.com)
You can see two of those Shoninger pianos that Edison supposedly bought in 1890(though they aren't uprights). That is extraordinary! How often does that come up? Almost never. Here is the ad I was talking about:
Here's the back page:
Amazing, right? 
I'm surprised that Columbia never did any piano endorsing(that I know of, there might be some out there...).  Edison was not nearly as weird of a place as Columbia, as I have explained before, and probably it didn't really occur to them that having a single piano company supply them was a good idea. This certainly is a good idea, as Rag-Time festival managers of to-day well know about that venture. Edison knew that having them endorse that piano company was a good thing for both companies. Well, I don't really know if Columbia had many of the same brand of piano, but it isn't really likely. 
Does anyone know what brand that piano is just to the left of the camera? 
(If you do, PLEASE COMMENT!)
 Yes, that thing closest to the camera is a piano, a very strange-looking one though. Hmm, now that I study the picture a little bit, they look like they might be the same kind of piano. Hm. They have the same kind of key-cover on them. One that just stays upward on the piano in a tilted direction(I have a German piano from 1925 that has that same kind of cover on it). Maybe they were German pianos? Maybe not. It is certain that the Edison pianos advertised on that sheet music were made in Germany. Hmm... You know what, those two pianos might actually be two of the same kind, because I  just noticed that the design on the one seen on the floor(closest to the camera) has that weird carved thing that has a specific shape, and look at the piano Hylands is at. It has that same kind of design, as you can see the pleats on the wood that are on that one closer to the camera. They also have the same kind of key-cover as you may notice. Does that piano on the floor have another cover on the bottom half of it? I mean over the part just below the keyboard, or not, it could just be the beams that are connected to the pedals. It's very hard to tell, even if the picture is very sharp.

I swear, if Columbia had Shoninger pianos there... (Beheaded Emerson!)
Probably not by 1898 though, as they had become very split from Edison by then. Earlier on in its existence they probably had the same pianos, but later on they must have diversified. We all remember this story:
Uh yes. That one. Hunting's "Bureau" story is actually hilarious, and it really is kind of what is described here, here is a take by Hunting of it from about 1920:
Ha! Love it.Very funny in that typical Russell Hunting way.

It really was Spencer trying to get one of their pianos probably into the exhibition hall, and it flopped over, probably from a wrongful grip, as he was not a piano mover. He thought he could be, but we know how that turned out. Heh. I wonder if he and Hylands tried to move it at some point again after that. That would be a great picture. As Hylands probably would have confidently agreed to doing the thing, until it came to actually getting his hands on the piano. He probably wussed out on it and set his hands up at the last second as Len got a good grip on the thing, and the same flop over would have happened. Hm, maybe the reason Columbia's piano in later 1897 sounded so out of tune was because of that fail by Len Spencer? That would make some sense. Just for some examples, here are some cylinders of Columbia's very out-of-tune piano from 1897 and 1898:
https://archive.org/details/colnyp-3420(announced by Harry Spencer)

"Schubert's Serenade" by Clark and Hylands, recorded in later 1897.(the piano is significantly bad on this one)


Now this one here, is the worst sounding one in my opinion:
The piano is so out of tune with the bells, it's really almost painful to listen to. So I wouldn't be at all surprised is that is the piano that flopped over on Spencer, and if so, probably not long after it happened. And better yet, it's Hylands playing it. Heh, probably a little tipsy as well.  For an interesting comparison, here's another take of the same selection:
This take sounds like the same circumstances as the other one, but either done on a different piano, or the same one just after it was tuned. After Hylands complained about it that is. Hylands sounds a little more tired or drunk on the take with the in-tune piano for some reason, he misses more notes is really what I'm meaning to say. 
I heard a take of  George Rosey's "The Handicap Race" by Dan Quinn recently, that has that same out-of-tune early 1890's piano, and since it was recorded in Columbia' "bigger Room", by that it is meant to being this one:
the wires of the piano and untuned strings can be heard even more. 
While at Columbia in the late-1890's, they probably had their main studio pianos tuned every few months, which is why when he hear many Columbia brown waxes, sometimes they sounds like they were recorded with different pianos, when really they were just the same two pianos getting tuned up and down because Hylands was such a beast on them, also from them getting moved every once in a while, with a fail here and there. They must have had their pianos tuned more often after 1900 for some reason, as it's not as common to hear Columbia's piano extremely out of tune after 1901. It still happened, though occasionally.  Here are a few from 1901-04 that have the piano a little out of tune:

(always had the belief that this was probably recorded in the afternoon or early evening, as they both sound broken up and tired)



(this one is particularly noticeable)


All of these have a similar story, and in fact, if your ears are good enough, you might be able to notice that the same piano that is on Collins and Hylands' "Bill Bailey" is exactly the same one that Hylands played back in 1898 behind Billy Golden on "Turkey in the Straw". The reason I caught that is because of the sound of bass notes, they are exactly the same kind of out-of-tune and wire-like that the same notes are on "Turkey in the Straw" from four years before that. Since both records have Hylands on them, it makes even more sense that they would sound the same. The different recording rooms could throw off the effects of the sound though, as "Turkey in the Straw" was recorded in their "bigger room", and "Bill Bailey" was recorded in a different, smaller room. 

By 1905 however, Columbia still used their "bigger room" when making records, as they made only about a handful of records with piano accompaniment in 1905, but all of them were made in their big room, because of the effectiveness of all the 1890's records they made in that room, with piano accompaniment of course. one of them included this one here:
Still the same old Hylands playing his usual Rag-Time, even seven years after first digging his hands into that rugged old piano. Well, after seven years, that piano became old and rugged. 





I hope you enjoyed this! 








Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Some Great Women in the Business

Since to-day happens to be international women's day, I thought it be important to do a post specifically on the great women that were involved with the line of study I know of. I don't speak of these ladies as often as I ought to because they just don't come up that much, though occasionally the thought comes. 
To begin, it would seem great to speak of all those strong, progressive women that Len Spencer grew up around. I have explained before that Spencer had a fascinating upbringing, with many famous and prominent people probably coming his way within the first five years of his life. One of these great women was: 
Clara Barton    1821 - 1912  FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN RED CROSS    This schoolteacher turned Civil War nurse was intrepid on the battlefield and ingeniously helpful after the fighting ended.:
Clara Barton
Yes indeed, the civil war nurse who began the Red Cross. 

The Spencer's had come to know Barton by the end of the civil war, and since this was so, it is not really surprising that Madame Barton probably held baby Len Spencer, or Harry a few years later. It is also very likely that Len grew up knowing Barton very well, occasionally seeing her come to their home or the Spencer College that was at that time run by their father Henry Caleb Spencer. Spencer's mother Sara Andrews was another fascinating woman of the nineteenth century, who was a rare breed of wealthy women in that time. Sara was a very passionate suffragette in the 1870's(which was the second wave of the women's suffrage movement, the other two were the 1840's and the 1910's), speaking at conventions and in great halls about the right for women to vote. In fact, in 1875, she, along with about 50 other women, registered to vote, but this was declined by the poll owners, for obvious reasons. With this failure, she still went onward with her protests. 
It wasn't just his mother and Clara Barton who he saw as the most influential women around him, he also saw many aunts of his who were very influential professors of law and even judges. If you look up the Spencer family(starting with Len), you will find that all the women in his family had some kind of higher education, degrees, or were prominent suffragettes. Not one lady in that family was just a housewife. 

Now another lady I would like to speak of is the very rarely mentioned Estella Mann:
(Anne of Cleves, c.1539)
Come on! She does very much look like Anne Of Cleves! Don't tell me you don't see it.

This Anne of Cleves-looking German beauty was not just one of the frivolous few early lady recording stars, she was also a company owner! As were most of these record makers in the 1890's, she owned her own label from 1898-1899, which was called The Lyric Phonograph company. It was, just like most of these companies, popular while it lasted, but then faded away rather quick. This was not really successful venture for her, which in most ways, is what led to her not really making any records after 1900. She faded out of the business quick, and stopped making records by the era of the gold moulded cylinder. She was influential and popular while she remained making records though, and would need to be remembered for this, as there weren't any other women in the 1890's music business that began their own record companies like she did.

Another fascinating lady I should mention is the wonderful May Irwin:
Now she had a very interesting role in the early popularization of Rag-Time. It is a little hard to explain, because she didn't make any records until ten years after she began in performing Rag-Time songs. Around 1894, Irwin was a performer who came on stage in blackface and performed "Ethiopian songs"(which was essentially the pre-cursor to "Coon Songs"), and starring in some comic opera. She became famous for her roles in big opening shows on broadway and on popular vaudeville stages. When Rag-Time came by storm from the genius of Ben Harney in 1896, Irwin became the first to introduce these songs in "Ragged time" along with Josephine Sabel:
Sable and Irwin became associated with Rag-Time starting in 1896, and in fact, Sabel's song was "Hot Time on the Old Town", and Irwin's was "The Bully". Sabel was pictured on many pieces of Rag-Time music from 1896 to 1913, which is quite a long period of time for being known as a Rag singer! Irwin had something along with her that Sabel did not, a great ability to write music. Irwin wrote several songs in her long-spanning career, which some were Rag-Time related, while others were not exactly Rag-Time, but were still very funny comic songs. Ben Harney was pleased to know that a popular lady singer(Irwin) was singing all of his Rag-Time songs, and was becoming known for them, further popularizing Harney, and Rag-Time itself, all before 1897. Of course, Irwin came across Len Spencer some time in 1896 and told him how great she thought his recordings of her songs were, and Spencer probably heard her perform these songs, so it is likely that he imitated her somewhat. 



Now to close off, I must mention the strong-hearted Etta Hylands. Etta was also a rare breed of Victorian lady, one who wasn't an outward feminist, but was a lady who proved that she wasn't a slave to any man that came her way. She had hard luck with men at first, as her first husband died of smallpox just a few months into their marriage, but at that, it is very likely that she married once more soon after that. With her very sharp wits, she became tired of many men, and probably had a beaux aside from her husband in each of her marriages. One of her children was illegitimate anyhow, so something like that wouldn't be very surprising at this. She must have been a very unconventional wife of the 1890's and 1900's, as she was a performer, and had many reckless ways. She was the kind of lady that many comic songs of the late-1890's poked fun at, such as this one by Dan Quinn here:
https://archive.org/details/colnyp-5121
Very good recording by the way! Fred Hylands is behind Quinn here. 
Many of these performers' wives were like the "Flossy" in the song listed above. Hylands' wife Marie was one:
Staying out late for shows, and sleeping all day while Freddy went to the studio.  That's actor's hours for ya. Not many of the recording stars had performers as their wives, like Len Spencer or Vess Ossman, but some did, like Billy Golden. Golden's wife May was actually a minstrel along with Billy, and they did quite a lot of vaudeville together in the late-1880's and early 1890's, which must have been very great to see! Another example of this would be the Watson's. By this, I mean George and Marguerite:

Heh, what a couple...

Now pretty much nothing is known about Marguerite, except the fact that she was married to George Watson the yodeler, and that she made some comic cylinders in the late-1890's for Edison. Now it's rare to find a married couple of recording artists in the 1890's, but the Watson's were one rare example. Later there was Burt Green and Irene Franklin, but that was much later in time. For those wives of these recording stars who are forgotten, they all must have been interesting ladies, as they lived with performers in a very hard and taxing business. Most of them stayed completely out of it, but some were either fully involved(like Marguerite), or were slightly part of the action(like Marie Hylands). I really wonder what some of their wives were like. Len Spencer's 
"Liz", Ossman's Eunice, Frank Banta's Elizabeth Riley, and all the other respectable ladies that went through so much with these wild studio men. 


I hope you enjoyed this! 

Sunday, March 6, 2016

The Mystery behind Seymour Furth, and the best Vaudeville accompanists

I don't think I've ever mentioned Theodore Morse on this blog before, but he was a fascinating character of early Tin Pan Alley and had an odd influence on early recordings. Morse was considered one of he best stage accompanists in his day, along with Seymour Furth, Fred Hylands and Mike Bernard. The evidence is here:

Who was Seymour Furth exactly? Well, that's a hard question to answer directly, as looking through a bunch of popular sheet music from 1901-1909, one can certainly find "Seymour Furth" listed as the composer on quite a lot of this music. Seeing that alone can get someone curious. Just out of coincidence, most of you early sheet music collectors probably have a bunch of music by Seymour Furth anyhow, as he did write a whole lot of very popular show tunes in the era just before Tin Pan Alley. 

From what I have noticed, Furth was essentially the same thing Fred Hylands was. By this, it is meant that he was a stage pianist, music director, composer, and publisher all in one. In fact, I would bet that they were competitors once Hylands got thrown out of Columbia in 1905. Though they probably were competitors starting in the late-1890's, this competition would have become more prominent by the time Columbia wasn't having to deal with Fred. I did some "digging" this evening to see if I could find anything on Furth, and at this didn't get really far, but I found a list of Broadway shows that he directed and did the music for, which certainly says something. He did more shows than Hylands did, so that also in some sort of indicator. 

I have the feeling that Furth was less complicated, calmer, and musically weird than Hylands or Mike Bernard. Which must have added to the fact that Furth was considered the best stage accompanist out there in 1900. He must have been a much easier person to deal with than Bernard or Hylands(as they were both full of themselves, especially Bernard). We still don't really know too many details about Furth though, which is very odd, because clearly he was brilliant and beloved, more so than Bernard was. He was clearly a great composer, as here you can hear one of his Rags:
He had some very creative musical ideas, that were very stylish and probably changed slightly with the times just like Hylands did. He was writing music in 1898 and 1899, so at this, his style probably sounded reminiscent of Max Hoffman or Ben Harney, as did many of the "Rag" pianists of the late-1890's. Hoffman's amazing skill at writing music was really what made him so famous in the Rag-Time community, as all of the other greats in the "New York Rag Time Community", didn't exactly know how to get all of their ideas written out to the exact syncopation and rhythmic ideas. 
I would guess that Furth was someone similar to this as well, since his music was all over the place, that says something.  Yes, I know, Harney wrote out all of those great songs he did, like "Mister Johnson Turn me Loose" in 1896 with the syncopated patterns that he played (kind of), but think about that for a moment. He had to go to John Biller in Louisville back in 1895 to get him to write out "You've Been a Good Old Wagon", because no one knew how to write out how he played the song. Biller didn't even get it exact. The fact that Harney had to go to someone else who was proficient in writing music to write out his piece really can probably apply to many of the earliest popular "Rag" pianists. 

Refer to Hylands' "Darkey Volunteer". That piece is a perfect example of the wild nature of Hylands, as it's got lots of notes, and speckles of Rag-Time everywhere. There aren't too many of the early "Rags" out there that were that scattered. Even most of Bernard's music makes sense, though we well know that his playing is very hard to understand, both back then, and even now. 
Yes indeed. Bernard had the fastest fingers in vaudeville in the pre-Tin Pan Alley era. And I thought Hylands was fast! Nope, that is exactly why Bernard won all of those Rag-Time contests in the late-1890's. Bernard was among the best accompanists according to the managers on broadway, though his rhythm was terrible, and he was the most terribly vain of all the pianists the managers wanted. Since Hylands was Pastor's music man(music director at Pastor's theater) in 1896(?)-1897, he knew Bernard well, and probably had his share of bouts with him. 

There were a few of these "Rag" pianists who were left out from being called best of the best, and this includes Burt Green and Ben Harney. More specifically Burt Green, because he was certainly good, and was used at Huber's museum/theater, which was certainly a real feat. Green was a friend of Hylands, and as we might expect, was not really the best thing for him, being an imitator of Harney, that went very well with the people, but being a close friend of Fred Hylands' was not exactly with the same connotations. Did he know Seymour Furth? Probably. It might have been distant, like Hylands and Max Hoffmann. All these pianists must have been aware of each other's styles, as when we hear Mike Bernard play in those Columbia's, it is clear that his inspirations are present. By this, I mean those like Max Hoffmann, Fred Hylands, and Ben Harney. 
Such as this one here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWZMqNf15ws
Now, for a comparison, listen to Hylands' "Turkey in the Straw" with Billy Golden from 1898. It literally almost sounds like Bernard is behind Golden on this. Yep, I definitely hear those similarities. Also, there were some things that Hylands plays here that can be heard in Furth's "Pinochle Rag" from many years later. 
The one thing that can be easily compared between Hylands playing "Turkey in the Straw" to Bernard playing "The 1915 Rag" is that they have the same amount of frantic-ness toward the end of the records. If you listen, it's exactly the same kind of frantic on both recordings. Bernard tried not to really trip himself over with all the notes, which he kind of does anyway. Hylands is trying to avoid this as well, but since he was just enough controlled, he was able to keep it all there(just about). Bernard was not accustomed to studio playing though, none of the stage accompanists knew what that was like truly, other than Hylands of course. He probably thought he was much better than everyone because he lived a horrid eight years working as a studio pianist, and none of those other pianists had any idea of what a horror that was. 
The only other one of them who would have any idea of how terrible being a studio pianist was, would be Burt Green. Green worked as Hylands' "gopher" if you will, for that short period of time he was a publisher in 1899-1900. As Fred's "gopher", he was the one who tended to his firm(his flat) while his master was gone the whole day until late in the evenings, more often than not, drunk or drugged. 
That's another thing. All of these other stage pianists lived longer than Hylands. Even Burt Green outlived Hylands by a few years(he died in 1921). Hmm... that's odd to ponder, but it's true. Hylands was probably the most brilliant, but did the most damage to his body in such a short period of time. Theodore More died in 1924, which meant that he was fifty when he croaked. That's much better than Hylands' 41. But of course, Max Hoffmann outlived pretty much everyone, dying in 1963 pretty much says everything. 

I wish Jim Walsh interviewed him.



I hope you enjoyed this! 


Friday, March 4, 2016

The Edison Orchestra and Columbia Orchestra

Sorry it's been so many days, it's been a little hard to stay on a single subject for a  post, and it's been busy around here. I have been listening to many of the "descriptive selections" that were recorded by the Columbia, Peerless, and Metropolitan orchestras, and just regular selections by these groups. The differences between these three studio ensembles are much more so than many would think, as of course, they did indeed have different people in the groups, and they were under different management by the record companies, and as I have explained before, makes a big difference. The Peerless orchestra was the Edison studio group, regardless or their Edison Concert band, which essentially served exactly the same purpose. The one who led this orchestra was:
Yes indeed, that chap. 
Banta led this group by writing out most of the arrangements, and counting them off, and all else he had to do while leading this group. He must have been aware of the fact that the Columbia orchestra was doing all of the same material at the same time, but with a much looser bound string of rules surrounding their sessions. According to capitalist logic, Banta had to try to compete with those fellows at Columbia for better arrangements and better balancing techniques. Banta encouraged all of the Rag-Time we hear and see listed in the Edison catalog from that time, and that's why there was so much of it. Banta is where we get some of those great Rag-Time arrangements like these: 


These are all great examples of Banta's leadership, and even the selections that aren't Rag-Time are just as great, such as the descriptive selections and other popular songs. Two descriptive selections are here:

Now as you might expect, these "descriptive selections" were very popular among the record buyers. Edison orchestra also recorded the extremely popular one called "The Night Alarm", which you can find countless versions of all over the place on records from the late-1890's. I don't exactly know why it was so popular in its day, but it was certainly a fun one regardless, you can hear the earliest example of it I know of here(from 1892!):
It is unknown how it began to circulate among the record companies, but there are at least 12 different recordings of it I know of. That's really saying something! 
The Peerless orchestra was never known to go out and do any performances, unlike the Columbia orchestra, who was all over the place at exhibitions and performances of Spencer's minstrels, or at lavish affairs at the Waldorf-Astoria. Since Edison didn't really have those fun sort of exhibitions that Columbia had, they didn't invite a handful of artists to come and demonstrate. Though, since Arthur Collins can be heard at the beginning of all but one of the Peerless Orchestra cylinder listed above, he probably had some sort of role in these Edison exhibitions. Collins was essentially at Edison just like how Len Spencer was at Columbia, and later what Ed Meeker became after 1902 at Edison. 

While Banta was getting sick and running the Edison orchestra with all he could to make them better, in a sort of serious way, minus Collins' comical introductions, the Columbia orchestra was wailing away at their antics they were known for. Many of the "descriptive selections" that the Columbia orchestra did in 1898-1900 were actually specific just to them. Such as their rowdy mess called "Charge of the Rough Riders". Now that one is a real kick! This is because of how wild and rowdy it seems, but yet how organised it is. It's one of the most symbolic of all the Columbia orchestra's selections, as it represents everything they were, all they did, and their attitude toward making records and music. You can hear a take here:
"Forward March!"
Yes indeed Mr. Clark. 
It's just such a contrast to the selections by the Peerless orchestra from the same year. They also had some weirder ones, like "Children's Games Lanciers", as you can hear that here:
Ha! they're all cheering like little kids! Hilarious. 
They also had one called "The Capture of Santiago", which is again referring to Roosevelt and the Rough Riders charging into Cuba. I haven't heard this one yet, but I have seen it listed in several places around the same time as their "Charge of the Rough Riders". The one in the link above is certainly a strange one in the mix, but then again I am not surprised about that, as Columbia's people certainly had some more odd ones in their files. They were hard to compete with, so at this, it left Banta a little at a disadvantage when trying to make his orchestra at Edison better. In reality, the Columbia orchestra had better musicians in its personnel, but the Edison studio orchestra had a mix of just as talented musicians. The thing about Columbia's orchestra is that their musicians had been in the business of recording for at least 7 or 8 years by 1898. They had status. By this I mean that with musicians like David Dana, George Schweinfest, and William Tuson, they were already known as soloists on records by the time the Columbia orchestra was formed in 1897. In fact, you can see all three of these musicians here:
I was studying this picture a few days ago and noticed that Dana is there! The only reason I know this is because of that wonderful picture that was put up on Tinfoil.com recently, this one to be more specific:
Yep, see it now? 
Taking a good look at Dana here was how I figured that he was in that Columbia orchestra picture. It makes sense really, since was was one of those members of Issler's orchestra who dropped out in 1897. As all three of the musicians picture just above were the main three who did this. So in that picture of the Columbia orchestra(actually, that is not everyone in the group! There would be at least four more people if they had the usual amount of instruments that would be on their records) We know that Hylands is there at the piano, looking out to everyone else with those expressive eyes behind those glasses, and with Tom Clark(maybe, I'm not exactly sure, I've never seen a picture of him) holding his right hand up(I don't know why...). Now that is actually why my father and I have come to the conclusion that this was a "staged" picture. What it meant by that? Well, the photographer was getting everything set up in there, and they actually weren't in the middle of making records when it was shot. And actually, much of the setup in realistic with the chairs on tables and such, but not exactly what they would be doing when making records. It's much like many of the studio pictures from that time, in fact I would be confident in saying that all of those studio pictures are "staged". Even the ones from the 1910's and 1920's have a similar story. The only so-called "Studio" picture that isn't really staged is this one here:
They didn't spend fifteen minutes trying to get everyone in the right place for this one. It can be seen clearly. The photographer probably had to yell while he already had his flasher in the air, as the exhibitions were loud and rowdy. He couldn't stand there and fix anything, so at that, what you see here is very candid, no tricks were done like in that other studio picture. Now another thing that's unique about the Columbia orchestra is the fact that they carried much of Issler's arrangements over from the earlier 1890's, such as "On the Midway", which you can hear the 1898 version here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder7941

The Issler's orchestra take from 1894 is here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8101

They are a little bit different, but it's funny to think that most of the same musicians were on both of these takes. I forgot to mention that Len Spencer was another Issler dropout, as he was their announcer and sound effects man(though he's not on the 1894 take just above...).  So as you can hear, Spencer is on the 1898 version of "On the Midway", and also if you listen closely, you can hear Hylands kind of singing along with the "Hoochie Koochie" song at the end. Yep, that's him you can hear.

Now saying that brings me to the next part of this post I wanted to discuss. I have mentioned a few times before that there are times on cylinders where you can pick out the voice of Fred Hylands among the mix of other voices(other than the one above). Now the Spencer brothers, Len and Harry, did a series of three records in the late-1890's advertised as "Scenes from life", all of them you can see listed here;
Nothing is said about "The Dog Fight", but that makes sense, as it pretty much is what is said in the title. Yes! Two dogs fighting to the death. Yep, this is 1898. 
Now to begin in finding Hylands, here is Spencer and Gilbert Girard's "The Dog Fight" recorded in c. 1903. Where's Hylands? Well, that voice that's yelling:


"ALL-RIGHT JIMM'EH!"

Yep, that's him alright. 
Why is that Hylands? Well listen to the slight dialect, and how powerful the voice is. It's also a voice that I have heard before on Columbia records, so that is a great indicator. That raspy voice is one that you can hear on this one as well, Harry Spencer's "Side Show Shouter" from 1898. I have explained before where you can hear Hylands on this one(0ther than him playing the organ), but just to refresh this, you can hear him at the beginning, in the middle saying, "I've seen bigger dwarf's 'en 'im!" (It's hard to write how he actually says that...), and he's also yelling at the end being the cops coming up on them. 

I played this cylinder for my former history teacher Mr. Rotenizer this Thursday, and he actually caught one of the things that Hylands yells at the beginning. He caught that Hylands yells "HOT TAMALES!"(in that slightly Chicago dialect) at a lull in what Spencer's yelling at the beginning after the announcement! THAT is hilarious! Also, I think that part of the reason that no one can understand what Hylands is saying at the beginning is because he's pretty drunk. Yep, that really makes sense now doesn't it. Also by how he does that laugh in the middle, oohh... Yep, he's pretty tipsy. Also by how it is very hard to understand what he says at the end acting as the constable, all I can understand is something like:

"Hey!! Ah'll catch ye-o rollahers(?)!"(while swinging around one of those clicker things)

I can't understand him. Well, he's obviously pretty drunk, so that makes some sense. It's still Fred Hylands' voice! 


I hope you enjoyed this!