A caricature I did contrasting Ed. Issler and Fred Hylands.
The reason I am putting these two in a post together is because of how different they both were, though they worked the same job in just about the same time frame. Issler was the pianist just before Hylands was hired for Columbia, doing his job in the dreaded "round" era of the 1890's. Issler had it much worse than Hylands ever had, having to stay put for full days dedicated to only two or three songs, over and over, until the manager would give a slight nod, and enough rounds were made for the day, only to come back the next day and make another hundred rounds.
Issler had been working for Edison since 1889, and Columbia since 1893, working solely for the record companies, which did not allow for many public performances of by his parlor orchestra, those were saved for the studios. He was a genius man, with balancing of instruments, there was no better man for the job than Issler. This is why the recordings by his orchestra are among the best that were made in the acoustic era, even beating some of the later recordings of twenty years later. Issler was always there in the studio, much like the members of his orchestra, William Tuson, George Schweinfest, David Dana, and even Len Spencer. Issler was extremely well-trained, however he was, his rhythm was superior, and his sense of melody was just as well, far better than the Fred Gaisberg who came before him at Columbia.With his orchestra beginning to fade in early 1897, Issler began to see some changes being made around at 27th and Broadway. He saw the emergence of studio manager Victor Emerson, and the move to that frivolous new studio. He saw the beginning of the new exhibition format, which was nothing like how it had been before. It was much more of a spectacle than how he experienced it back at Edison, and in the earlier years of Columbia. Around March of 1897, Vic Emerson approached him one day in a lull toward the end of a recording day, and warned him of a possible handful of tests in the next week at the studio. These weren't going to be just any tests, they would be for a new pianist. This might have been specified to him, or it may not have. Just as Issler was tried for the Edison staff in 1889, and was the fifth pianist they tried, Columbia did a similar sequence of choosing. It would certainly be curious to know who else Columbia tested in mid-1897, but it must have been at least six different pianists. Hylands must have been at the back of the line, smoking a cigarette, waiting impatiently for his time up the stairs and in the big studio room. Issler probably was not present in the very room that the tests were being made, but he was probably on close watch, listening with that freakishly sharp ear of his. Most of the pianists were too shaky, nervous, and swift-handed. Easton and Emerson found them all to be too eccentric, frivolous, and too much like Fred Gaisberg, which was something they wanted a change from. Once they were growing tired of the strange bevy of pianists, in came an ever anomalous figure, a real different-looking specimen than the rest. At least a foot taller than all the others, bright blue-green eyes blurred by gold rimmed spectacles, pumpkin-orange hair, freckles, red-burnt face, small bits of acne, crooked full lips, laden with accumulated girth all over, long slim hands--it could only be Fred Hylands. Master Easton had heard of this Hylands fellow beforehand from mutters around by the staff members. He had heard that Hylands was good, but not much else. How they were shocked by how skillful he was, yet he was merely a child. At 25, he was the youngest of all the pianists tested that day. They knew he was the right one, from how he consumed the room, took his bow, and his overwhelmingly charming demeanor and smile. Issler knew from there that he was going to be leaving Columbia soon, but the exact time was only later to be revealed. The time was coming though. In this slim amount of time from the middle of 1897 to early 1898, Issler continued to work for Columbia regularly, but sometimes, Hylands came to charm everyone with his childish ways. Issler only rolled his eyes at Hylands' insolent nature, and found him to be an amateur, only to later find out that he was genuinely a musical genius. Issler found Hylands' "Rag Time" to be too broken and unstructured, far too much to be considered legitimate music. The fact that Hylands was a real "professor" also was something that Issler detested, as he had spent years in training to fully have a good knowledge of music, and Hylands hadn't, yet he was so musically mature. He would refuse to admit it, but by the end of 1897, Issler had become dreadfully jealous of Hylands, and it was clear, since all the regular studio artists were practically pulling on his leg to be there every day they made records, that Issler was going to be dropped within the next few months, or even in the next month. Issler was not far off, by December 1897, he was dropped from Columbia for the time being, for Hylands. Issler did not come back to Columbia, as he was keeping his orchestra together with only a single hair of string, still making records until 1900. After 1900, Issler vanished, and was not known of again. Hylands on the other hand, we know how it went for him at Columbia for the next 8 years, aging out of his insolent ways gradually as the years went on in publishing and studio days.
These two early studio pianists can be heard on thousands of recordings from 1889 to 1905(the entire span of the piano accompaniment era). Issler was heard on all the earliest commercial recordings with piano accompaniment, no matter what company, Issler was on them, slaving away behind the singers at the plight of the "round" era. You can hear Issler on these early cylinders here:
The original "Commodore" Edward M. Favor sings his famous tune "The Commodore Song" in 1893
"March of the Marines" by Issler and his orchestra, with Len Spencer on bells, c.1893
Monroe Rosenfeld's Walk-around, "The Virginia Skedaddle" with shouts by Len Spencer, c.1895
Hylands can be heard even more so, because he was on more recordings that survive now, and because he began at the end of the round era. The examples:
John Yorke Atlee whistling Verdi's " Anvil Chorus" in 1898
Len Spencer singing Barney Fagan's big hit "My Gal is a High Born Lady" in late 1897-early 1898
Spencer and Roger Harding sing "Larboard Watch" with some uncalled for Rag-Time by Hylands in early 1899
Issler had been working for Edison since 1889, and Columbia since 1893, working solely for the record companies, which did not allow for many public performances of by his parlor orchestra, those were saved for the studios. He was a genius man, with balancing of instruments, there was no better man for the job than Issler. This is why the recordings by his orchestra are among the best that were made in the acoustic era, even beating some of the later recordings of twenty years later. Issler was always there in the studio, much like the members of his orchestra, William Tuson, George Schweinfest, David Dana, and even Len Spencer. Issler was extremely well-trained, however he was, his rhythm was superior, and his sense of melody was just as well, far better than the Fred Gaisberg who came before him at Columbia.With his orchestra beginning to fade in early 1897, Issler began to see some changes being made around at 27th and Broadway. He saw the emergence of studio manager Victor Emerson, and the move to that frivolous new studio. He saw the beginning of the new exhibition format, which was nothing like how it had been before. It was much more of a spectacle than how he experienced it back at Edison, and in the earlier years of Columbia. Around March of 1897, Vic Emerson approached him one day in a lull toward the end of a recording day, and warned him of a possible handful of tests in the next week at the studio. These weren't going to be just any tests, they would be for a new pianist. This might have been specified to him, or it may not have. Just as Issler was tried for the Edison staff in 1889, and was the fifth pianist they tried, Columbia did a similar sequence of choosing. It would certainly be curious to know who else Columbia tested in mid-1897, but it must have been at least six different pianists. Hylands must have been at the back of the line, smoking a cigarette, waiting impatiently for his time up the stairs and in the big studio room. Issler probably was not present in the very room that the tests were being made, but he was probably on close watch, listening with that freakishly sharp ear of his. Most of the pianists were too shaky, nervous, and swift-handed. Easton and Emerson found them all to be too eccentric, frivolous, and too much like Fred Gaisberg, which was something they wanted a change from. Once they were growing tired of the strange bevy of pianists, in came an ever anomalous figure, a real different-looking specimen than the rest. At least a foot taller than all the others, bright blue-green eyes blurred by gold rimmed spectacles, pumpkin-orange hair, freckles, red-burnt face, small bits of acne, crooked full lips, laden with accumulated girth all over, long slim hands--it could only be Fred Hylands. Master Easton had heard of this Hylands fellow beforehand from mutters around by the staff members. He had heard that Hylands was good, but not much else. How they were shocked by how skillful he was, yet he was merely a child. At 25, he was the youngest of all the pianists tested that day. They knew he was the right one, from how he consumed the room, took his bow, and his overwhelmingly charming demeanor and smile. Issler knew from there that he was going to be leaving Columbia soon, but the exact time was only later to be revealed. The time was coming though. In this slim amount of time from the middle of 1897 to early 1898, Issler continued to work for Columbia regularly, but sometimes, Hylands came to charm everyone with his childish ways. Issler only rolled his eyes at Hylands' insolent nature, and found him to be an amateur, only to later find out that he was genuinely a musical genius. Issler found Hylands' "Rag Time" to be too broken and unstructured, far too much to be considered legitimate music. The fact that Hylands was a real "professor" also was something that Issler detested, as he had spent years in training to fully have a good knowledge of music, and Hylands hadn't, yet he was so musically mature. He would refuse to admit it, but by the end of 1897, Issler had become dreadfully jealous of Hylands, and it was clear, since all the regular studio artists were practically pulling on his leg to be there every day they made records, that Issler was going to be dropped within the next few months, or even in the next month. Issler was not far off, by December 1897, he was dropped from Columbia for the time being, for Hylands. Issler did not come back to Columbia, as he was keeping his orchestra together with only a single hair of string, still making records until 1900. After 1900, Issler vanished, and was not known of again. Hylands on the other hand, we know how it went for him at Columbia for the next 8 years, aging out of his insolent ways gradually as the years went on in publishing and studio days.
These two early studio pianists can be heard on thousands of recordings from 1889 to 1905(the entire span of the piano accompaniment era). Issler was heard on all the earliest commercial recordings with piano accompaniment, no matter what company, Issler was on them, slaving away behind the singers at the plight of the "round" era. You can hear Issler on these early cylinders here:
The original "Commodore" Edward M. Favor sings his famous tune "The Commodore Song" in 1893
"March of the Marines" by Issler and his orchestra, with Len Spencer on bells, c.1893
Monroe Rosenfeld's Walk-around, "The Virginia Skedaddle" with shouts by Len Spencer, c.1895
Hylands can be heard even more so, because he was on more recordings that survive now, and because he began at the end of the round era. The examples:
John Yorke Atlee whistling Verdi's " Anvil Chorus" in 1898
Len Spencer singing Barney Fagan's big hit "My Gal is a High Born Lady" in late 1897-early 1898
Spencer and Roger Harding sing "Larboard Watch" with some uncalled for Rag-Time by Hylands in early 1899
Hope you enjoyed this!
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