Fred Hylands
This man is still a fascinating specimen as far as this whole early recording business goes, and I am still trying to understand his complicated personality.
This man is still a fascinating specimen as far as this whole early recording business goes, and I am still trying to understand his complicated personality.
Reading through Tim Brooks' masterpiece Lost Sounds really made me realise more of Hylands' strange doings, that in so many ways were really well-hidden from most of the recording staff. He was a hustler, almost to the high degree that Len Spencer had in this aspect. He did feel he had to make Spencer his primary salesman however, so something odd comes into question there. He always was in everyone's business, and from learning that he had a hand in The People v. George W. Johnson, really tells me that he had that in him. In the May, 1900 issue of The Phonoscope, it is mentioned that Hylands sold much of his sheet music catalog while out on tour during that month. The section that I used a while back about Spencer leading a minstrel show out in Dyker Heights was part of this tour. If you'll recall, Hylands was the bones player, and did some piano playing as well, as expected. I bet Harry Yeager managed this show, along with others they did on this tour.
Hylands' under-the-table deals were sometimes inconsiderate and somewhat evil, as they were all for his own benefit, and for his father's and for his wife's. His father was head of their household, which indicates that he didn't allow for Fred to manage the bills and money needed to be paid. That's somewhat comical to think of, but it was true, and it was true from a typical father-son relationship. Charles did not trust his son, even when his son was 26, in 1898. I explained in my last post that I thought George W. Johnson and Hylands had a similar personal life dynamic. Hylands was said by all sources from the time in which he lived to have been a very amiable and comical character, who made friends wherever he went. This may be true, but the thing that deceived those who befriended him was that soon after becoming acquainted, he would become a different man. He was a man who was different when he drank, much like George W. Johnson was. When sober, he was kind, amiable, quick, and alert, clearly showing his intelligence. However, when intoxicated, he was moody, insolent, and violent. All of these would certainly end many friendships, but his playing was so highly regarded that no one wanted to lose his services. This is why, despite all of these obvious faults, Columbia's staff kept him for so many years. It is still surprising to me that Columbia was willing to keep him for as long as they did, as it really shows a sense of trust that they had in him, even though he wasn't always one to be trusted. It also shows how important piano accompaniment was in the business for so many years.
It remained essential to have a studio pianist for much longer than many would think, as some believe that the piano accompaniment era ended in 1903, and from there on, only orchestra accompaniment was used, which is true only to some extent. The death of Frank P. Banta prompted a forced change on the Edison staff, they still had two other pianists, but Banta was the most prominent of them they had, and the most irreplaceable. When Columbia dropped Hylands, they were completely done with him, and all regular studio pianists. That was in about September of 1905, very late on for piano to still be used, later than I would have thought. Many records from earlier in 1905 still had that piano accompaniment, with the same style that was heard back in 1899 and 1900. It's strange to think that he was still willing to come in to Columbia in 1904 and 1905, as he was beginning to perform on Broadway by then, you'd think that he had enough of Columbia by that time. Apparently not. He was needed for Rag-Time songs, which were still very popular, and in that, his style still fit the slightly different style.
I still don't know what happened to Edward Issler. I still have the feeling that Columbia didn't exactly drop him in 1897. I go back and listen to some Columbia's feeling like the pianist is someone else, other than Hylands that is. The only two people who worked at Columbia in 1897 and 1898 who would be willing to play piano regularly would be these two:
Edward Issler, and
We know very well that Schweinfest worked at Columbia, as well as Issler, but most who know anything about Issler would know that Issler's orchestra stopped making records regularly in 1897, and in very small batches after that. All Issler's orchestra records disappear from any catalogs by 1901. Issler's doing after 1900 are unknown, and it's possible that he remained working for Columbia as a second for Hylands. If that is what he did, he probably didn't like being a second to Fred Hylands, for a variety of reasons. It's very possible though, as Columbia certainly had at least two other pianists while Hylands worked there, and Issler was probably one of them. Now come to think of it, I have just realised something...
I just listened to this cylinder here, and caught something I didn't before. Hmm, that trill sort of thing that I know of Hylands doing, well, I heard Issler doing it here. That's really strange! Somehow, it makes sense, as when Columbia was looking for a pianist in 1897, they were looking for a pianist that was at least vaguely similar to Issler, their then-sitting pianist at the time. It's starting to make some sense now. The next question is:
Where's Issler when Hylands was working there?
That's a hard question to answer, but we would have to look back at some of Issler's accompaniments to distinguish a specific style. I know I have done this before, but Issler's a little hard to catch for some reason, though he was what Fred Hylands became at Columbia a few years later.
You know what, Gaskin's cylinder of "After the Ball" is a fantastic example of Issler's style, of which you can hear here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8097
There's a lot to listen for here, but it's very well recorded, to pretty much everything can be heard clearly. much of what I hear on this cylinder sounds like an early version of Hylands' more "straight" accompaniments that were on songs that weren't labelled as "coon songs" or Rag-Time songs. That does make sense. So, with this very odd trait, it seems that I've found the pianist on that infernal recording of "Uncle Jefferson" by Billy Golden. Here is that cylinder:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11728
I just knew that it couldn't be Hylands.
From this picture here:
It already seemed pretty obvious to me that Issler was their regular pianist. That's the same piano that can be seen in that Columbia orchestra picture that I use so often. The slightly syncopation is still very odd, even if it is Issler, it's still odd to her him try it out.
The one thing that made me really think it was Hylands on "Uncle Jefferson" was that strange twelfth chord thing the the final chord. Really take a few listens to that solo at the end, it's very strange. It pretty much sounds like a stiff Fred Hylands, that must be the way to describe Issler's playing. One thing is for sure, Issler is not on this one here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8436
We know that this one is Hylands of course. That is exactly the style that they were describing in The Phonoscope, that is what they were advertising here:
"Mr. Hyland's[typo] rag-time piano accompaniment..."
That's right.
When that was said, no more Issler(well, for the time being, he came back soon...). Since that picture above of George W. Johnson with Issler was taken in 1897, and this was taken in later 1897:
it seems that the transition was made in that timeframe. We knew that was true, but these two pictures say a lot just being what they are. By the way, it must be noted that these two pictures were listed on the same page in the July 1898 issue of The Phonoscope. One certainly is older than the other here.
I still hope to find out what happened to the studio genius Edward Issler, and it hope it wasn't something awful, as he certainly deserves recognition for the amazing studio work he did. I hope that Columbia still employed Issler after his orchestra was dropped from their catalog, as he certainly needed it, and Hylands certainly needed a few days off here and there...
It remained essential to have a studio pianist for much longer than many would think, as some believe that the piano accompaniment era ended in 1903, and from there on, only orchestra accompaniment was used, which is true only to some extent. The death of Frank P. Banta prompted a forced change on the Edison staff, they still had two other pianists, but Banta was the most prominent of them they had, and the most irreplaceable. When Columbia dropped Hylands, they were completely done with him, and all regular studio pianists. That was in about September of 1905, very late on for piano to still be used, later than I would have thought. Many records from earlier in 1905 still had that piano accompaniment, with the same style that was heard back in 1899 and 1900. It's strange to think that he was still willing to come in to Columbia in 1904 and 1905, as he was beginning to perform on Broadway by then, you'd think that he had enough of Columbia by that time. Apparently not. He was needed for Rag-Time songs, which were still very popular, and in that, his style still fit the slightly different style.
I still don't know what happened to Edward Issler. I still have the feeling that Columbia didn't exactly drop him in 1897. I go back and listen to some Columbia's feeling like the pianist is someone else, other than Hylands that is. The only two people who worked at Columbia in 1897 and 1898 who would be willing to play piano regularly would be these two:
I just listened to this cylinder here, and caught something I didn't before. Hmm, that trill sort of thing that I know of Hylands doing, well, I heard Issler doing it here. That's really strange! Somehow, it makes sense, as when Columbia was looking for a pianist in 1897, they were looking for a pianist that was at least vaguely similar to Issler, their then-sitting pianist at the time. It's starting to make some sense now. The next question is:
Where's Issler when Hylands was working there?
That's a hard question to answer, but we would have to look back at some of Issler's accompaniments to distinguish a specific style. I know I have done this before, but Issler's a little hard to catch for some reason, though he was what Fred Hylands became at Columbia a few years later.
You know what, Gaskin's cylinder of "After the Ball" is a fantastic example of Issler's style, of which you can hear here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8097
There's a lot to listen for here, but it's very well recorded, to pretty much everything can be heard clearly. much of what I hear on this cylinder sounds like an early version of Hylands' more "straight" accompaniments that were on songs that weren't labelled as "coon songs" or Rag-Time songs. That does make sense. So, with this very odd trait, it seems that I've found the pianist on that infernal recording of "Uncle Jefferson" by Billy Golden. Here is that cylinder:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11728
I just knew that it couldn't be Hylands.
From this picture here:
The one thing that made me really think it was Hylands on "Uncle Jefferson" was that strange twelfth chord thing the the final chord. Really take a few listens to that solo at the end, it's very strange. It pretty much sounds like a stiff Fred Hylands, that must be the way to describe Issler's playing. One thing is for sure, Issler is not on this one here:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8436
We know that this one is Hylands of course. That is exactly the style that they were describing in The Phonoscope, that is what they were advertising here:
That's right.
When that was said, no more Issler(well, for the time being, he came back soon...). Since that picture above of George W. Johnson with Issler was taken in 1897, and this was taken in later 1897:
I still hope to find out what happened to the studio genius Edward Issler, and it hope it wasn't something awful, as he certainly deserves recognition for the amazing studio work he did. I hope that Columbia still employed Issler after his orchestra was dropped from their catalog, as he certainly needed it, and Hylands certainly needed a few days off here and there...
Hope you enjoyed this!
No comments:
Post a Comment