Showing posts with label Byron G. Harlan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Byron G. Harlan. Show all posts

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Character Studies--Burt Shepard(c.1853-1913)

Burt. Shepard, c.1887-91

It's been a while since I've entered the mysterious realm of Burt Shepard, and since I have had a fascination with him and his records lately, it would seem to be time to finally do a character studies post on him. Not much is known on him, now and even back when he was performing and making records, and this is actually his fault, since he didn't want to talk much when people interviewed him back in the 1900's and 1910's. If he had spoken just a little more a whole lot of the mess of mystery would be nonexistent. He has the same sort of reputation that Silas Leachman has had over the decades. Leachman didn't talk much when reporters asked him personal questions, and had gone almost completely forgotten over the ages and only had a batch of Victor records for few record collectors to know about him. This is exactly the same for Shepard, save for the fact that recently a treasure trove of information has been found on Leachman, and this is still yet to happen for Shepard. Whenever this happens, I want to witness it, and grab everything I can. 

His background and upbringing is completely lost to history, since he refused to speak of it, and no one could get anything appertaining to it anywhere. One thing is for sure, he came from somewhere deep in middle America, as his dialect matches up almost exactly with Byron Harlan's, George Graham's, and even Fred Hylands'. All three of those performers came from different places in the midwest, Kansas, West Virginia, and Indiana. The state specifically where Shepard came from may never be known, but it's not New York or anywhere in the eastern U. S. His exact birthdate is also unknown, as that he also refused to reveal, and the date often given for this is just a logical guess, since he first began performing in a minstrel troupe in c.1874(might be earlier...) that came from New Orleans, which may or may not be an indicator of where he came from. From there, but the late-1870's, he was performing in women's clothing, doing singing and minstrel acts and gaining a reputation as a prime female impersonator. In this, I believe there's a photo of him from the same page as the picture above that looks like him almost certainly:
Really do a comparison, and you'll see why I think it's him. (that would mean that there was a typo in the book that this came from...)

This picture just above might either be from the early-1890's, or it's a much earlier image of him from the mid-1870's. The hairstyle looks like the 1870's, as well as the strange choker-necklace thing was a popular style of the mid-1870's. Hmm, after doing some good studying, I think this picture is from around 1875, according to the neckline of the dress, the hairstyle, and the weird choker thing. Really go and study fashion plates from that time, you'll see exactly why I have concluded 1875 as the date here. 

Anyway, with this talent, he became a popular minstrel show "middle man" who would, by tradition, not be in blackface. He did perform in blackface as well, and often did parodies of popular songs, that he created. This tradition of song parodies lasted and was luckily able to be caught on recordings in 1901 and 1902, which included his parodies of "Home Sweet Home", "The Swanee River" and even "The Honeysuckle and the Bee" which were all fantastic examples of vaudeville. By the late-1890's he was performing all over the world, performing in England, Paris, Australia, and even South Africa as well. By 1901, he was in the U.S. once more, performing his popular song parodies, doing general vaudeville, and of course, making records! Much of how people know him comes from these hundred or so Victor records from 1901 to 1906, which included many popular British songs that American artists had not yet recorded. Many songs he recorded were also ones that he made up his own lyrics that were parodies all themselves without being labelled as such. 
He went back for the crowds of London by 1912, and remained there until he died the next year. In the final time he was in England, he made a few recordings for Victor that was set up ten years before by Russell Hunting. After that, his name and reputation slowly faded off, with only those Victors to truly remember him and hear why he was so highly praised. His personality came through on his recordings, as the few surviving accounts describing him match much of the character that leaks into many of his famous Victor recordings. He was a similar figure to Fred Hylands in appearance, save for being well over six feet tall, Shepard was not Hylands height, but the weight and overall proportions appear to be the same. He was known by the studio pianists of the early days to have been a jolly and kind man, though sometimes complicated and indirect. His likable personality earned him many friends in the business, and didn't keep new people from him. 

It's unfortunate that almost none of the basic information on him is lost to history, as it we knew more about him, he's probably more complicated than we could ever have fathomed. 



Hope you enjoyed this! 







Thursday, April 7, 2016

A Small observation

Before I get into the recording of "Peaceful Henry" by Ossman tomorrow, I just noticed something strange this evening. I was digging through some images of my computer and found something odd about that picture of Hylands that I have from 1898 in the exhibition picture. 
Yes, that one. Here's the specific picture I was looking at:
Yep. 
Now the strange thing that I caught about this picture is that strange-looking chin of his, that I never really noticed before for some reason. I have noticed that his mouth looked a little cockide, slanted downward a little. That strange little thing makes me believe even more that his teeth were a terrible mess, and why on all the times that we can hear him talk, why he's harder to understand. Yes indeed, I am listening to Harry Spencer's "Side Show Shouter" as I am writing this, and have just begun to notice that truly from Hylands' speaking at the beginning, in the middle, and at the very end. Hm. It's something that's very bizarre, but does make some sense, as other than Hylands drinking in the studio, his speech was already slightly slurred. In some ways, he had the same kind of speech that Byron Harlan had, and if you know anything about Harlan, you'd know that his weird dialect was slightly broken from a crooked mouth. If you don't really know what I'm referring to, here's a picture of Harlan from about 1917 where this mutation is evident:
Yep, think I can really see it now. 
It's very strange isn't it? Another reason why Hylands probably liked Harlan so much back in 1899 and 1900 must have been because of their very similar features all around, though Hylands was at least four or five inches taller. Fro what I can see, I can identify the same strange mouth on Hylands in this picture here:
Yes indeed, that terrible picture in The Phonoscope of the Columbia orchestra from 1898. That is Hylands, no arguments. I am certain that that is Hylands, as no other studio pianist in the 1890's had that strange figure, and had eyes that were that bright and expressive. 
To prove this sort of odd lisp kind of thing Hylands had, here are three records where you can hear him speak clearly: 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder9828

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder11735

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder4935

It's very bizarre. I just thought before I go off to bed that I ought to share this queer little thing, that can be noticed on many records I hear with Hylands now that I caught it. 


I hope you enjoyed this! 


Sunday, November 29, 2015

Character Studies---Byron G. Harlan(1861-1936)

I don't really understand why I neglect to speak about Byron Harlan very much anymore(and yes, I will do a post on Arthur Collins!) He had a very long an interesting story, that many record historians are now starting to examine more closely, and have found some small things that were bigger roles in his life than previously thought. Harlan was a kind "country-yap" as many would have called him, with a wonderful voice and a great sense of mimicry. He was a professionally trained singer who originally learned to sing opera back in 1880's Chicago. After getting very well-trained vocally and musically, he took these skills with him when he began to tour around in vaudeville troupes and light opera companies. By 1892, he was a very popular singer, at that time he was under the famous Charles Hoyt, doing a few shows here and there on Broadway. By 1895, he was a theatrical director and ran his own company that functioned as a vaudeville group and a minstrel show. Harlan was at each of these performances playing some important role, either singing, or being the "middle-man" of the minstrel show. By 1897, he was a success, doing several shows a week in varying east coast theaters. In 1898, Harlan was performing solo at many popular stages, from Huber's to Pastor's theater. This was the year that he met all the famous recording stars, which in many ways must have been completely by accident. He met Fred Hylands, Len Spencer, Burt Green, Ada Jones, and a handful more. This is really when they start to consider him for hire at Columbia. For some reason, this never happened when it should have, even though Hylands proudly advertised Harlan on covers of his sheet music in 1899(hmm...). It was the boys at Edison that found him and took him in first, they were quicker to make up their minds than Hylands and his crew. Since Edison hired him first, Columbia held back to take him until 1901.  He was an immediate hit with Mr. Edison himself, as for some reason, Walter Miller liked Harlan so much, that he must have told "the old man" that he would enjoy to have Harlan sing at his very exclusive dinner parties. Edison did just that, and invited Harlan to many of these exclusive gatherings, which in many ways, gave Harlan a sort of authority over many of the other artists coming in, like Arthur Collins, Harry MacDonough, Will F. Denny, Frank P. Banta, and most of the regulars at that time. Edison was on close terms with Harlan until Edison died in the early 30's. Harlan was said to have been one of the few who could actually call Edison "Tom" in his presence, and that's saying a whole lot. When Columbia hired Harlan in 1901, he wasn't an immediate success with them, as Hylands liked him, but not really the rest of the staff. It wasn't until 1902 that he really started to gain some ground, as when Arthur Collins proved he had had enough of Joseph Natus, that sparked an even better idea for the Victor and Edison people. Collins and Harlan was finally created in October of 1902, by the staff at Victor. When this duo was created, it started a whole now chapter in Harlan's life, as he was no longer dealing with everyone around him, it was then Collins that he would be dealing with for the next twenty-three years. 


Harlan was an interesting character in the studio, much to the likeness of Fred Hylands. He and Fred seemed like two peas in a pod, even if Hylands was just his accompanist at Columbia only. He owned the room when he entered it, whether it be Columbia or Edison, or even Victor, but this was before Arthur Collins. When Arthur Collins came along, Harlan could not own the room any longer. Collins and Harlan with Fred Hylands was really a very strong and fun group to witness at Columbia, as they knew Hylands like a book, and they practically knew all the cues he would give, even if they didn't really know what he was trying to play. It was really comical, as half the time, Hylands was louder than Collins and Harlan. If they had known it, they both would have thrown Hylands out. But when those sessions were on, it was three ego powerhouses in one, so whoever had the most power was able to shine through the best, and for some reason, Hylands was able to rule over Collins and Harlan sometimes. And he was just the piano player! It must have broken Harlan's heart to hear that Hylands was dropped from Columbia's staff in later 1905, but that was when Collins and Harlan was really a big money-making asset for the record companies. It was really a great idea, as they were both not really outstanding solo artists before 1901, so putting them together made them even stronger singers. It worked invariably. The record buyers loved their harmonization, and their wonderful vaudeville-style sketches on many of the records. Harlan was still a successful solo artist, making numerous records for Victor, Columbia, Zon-O-Phone, Leeds, and Edison. He remained just as popular as Collins, even though Collins was singing all that "Ragtime" and "Coon songs". Harlan was singing all those pretty sentimental songs, and occasionally doing a "rube'' sketch with Frank Stanley. He and Frank Stanley were also a popular duo, as they blended very well, and Stanley was a much more modest fellow to cool the ego factor in the recording rooms. By 1908, Collins and Harlan were a common name on records, just as much as Len Spencer's was ten years before. They were recording all the Rag-Time, popular songs, and occasionally an older minstrel number. Harlan was a seemingly nice and amiable fellow, but when he worked with Collins, it was a little different. Harlan was very particular about things, but so was Collins, so many small conflicts came and went. They argued about songs they wanted to do sometimes, only one argument has been documented in full, but it is certain that they had many more of them along the way. Collins openly stated that he was the more important member of the duo, and that did not stand well with Harlan, as Harlan thought a similar way about this role, even though they were both equally popular no matter where year it was in their partnership. If their popularity was down, both their careers would suffer, if their popularity was up, they would both share the success. There was no better member other duo, so all of that conflict was useless. By the mid-teen's however, they were dropping in popularity, as they were singers who had been in the business since the late-1890's, and it was very rare for 1890's recording stars to remain popular in the business for twenty years. They had achieved this, as by 1922, they were still making records as Collins and Harlan, even if they were not really that popular by 1917. Edison's staff just couldn't let them go, as Mr. Edison still really liked them as people and recording artists. Harlan was no longer a popular artist by 1924, so he only made records occasionally, as he had the money from recording to enjoy his semi-retirement. Collins was gone by 1925, taking his wealth with him, and moved out to Florida. Harlan still had to work sometimes, as he was not really as great with his money. Harlan had never really been so great with his money, and it didn't help that he was a close friend of Fred Hylands' for so many years(that was usually something that seemed great when they knew him, but later it would come back to bite them). Collins knew that Harlan wasn't good with his money, and that must have contributed to why he refused to help him when the Crash of 1929 struck, other than just not wanting to have anything to do with the recording business in his retirement.  Harlan was a broken mess in the 1930's, living in a terrible old house in West Orange, NJ, that Jim Walsh once described as a terrible "run-down" old place that was certainly miserable. Harlan loved recalling those old recording days, but he felt that not a soul cared about those old names recording companies anymore, so this is why not much information came out of those letters from Harlan to Walsh in the early 30's. It's a sad ending to a long and fascinating story, but he died in September of 1936, broke, leaving his daughter and wife. 
His wife Ethel did indeed give a fair amount of information to Walsh in the 1940's, and that is where much of the information about him came from, I do not know what happened to his daughter, but she did live a long time as far as I know. 


I hope you enjoyed this!

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Character Studies-- Steve Porter(1864-1936)

"You're all invited! Whether Senorita Chiquita wins or loses!" 
that was Porter's attitude toward his yacht races of the late-1890's.

Porter was always a wealthy man, for reasons unknown. He had expensive habits, and was a friend of the frivolous and financially irresponsible Fred Hylands. This profitable and risky business didn't help that fact. Porter was a very innovative and creative man in the early recording business, as he was one of those non-Edison film-makers who tried to blend sound and film together as one. He made many new gadgets for the recording business, and much later after his recording career, he had the first commercial hearing aid patented.


Porter was the best risk-taker Columbia ever had. He would try things that literally had three quarters of possibility that they would fail, but he had the means and money to take these terrible gambles. Other than Len Spencer, Porter helped along Fred Hylands in his publishing firms, and in general as well, as Hylands was oftentimes in need of extra dough. Porter had first gotten into the recording business from knowing Russ Hunting. Like all the other friends of Liberal Hunting, Porter found Hunting's "smut" cylinders a terrible idea, and was bound to bust. After Hunting got out of prison, he and Porter reunited, and began an experimental film business. This quickly failed, and a month or so later, Hunting began the magazine The Phonoscope. This was where Porter began to actually make records. In early 1897, Porter became one of the Columbia crowd, though he was more conservative than some of his fellows. He wasn't a "Rag Time'' singer, nor was he a true Irish Tenor, he was similar in many ways to the already popular S. H. Dudley. Porter was a singer of all the sacred songs, quartette material, and popular songs. He wasn't something too special when he sang solo, but when he was in a quartette, he was a perfect blending voice. How Porter decided to work with Fred Hylands is lost, but it must be the nature of Hylands being risky with his money, and that Porter wanted to help out Fred who was always short of cash. Porter had gotten into Yacht races in 1897 and 1898, which was a big thing for the Columbia staff, as when a race came up, everyone on the talent staff would be out of work that day for the race. It was a big thing for Porter, even if his boat wasn't in the best of luck. Everyone would throw in some money for bets, some more than others, and they would either lose or win, just like the horse races the Spencer's went off and played at(also Porter not surprisingly...). His schooner was The Chiquita, and she was a pretty successful boat, winning several big tournaments in 1898 and 1899, which made Porter even richer by 1899, which is probably where Hylands took an interest to Porter. In march of 1899, Porter finally joined Hylands and Roger Harding in his "Knickerbocker Publishing" firm, which didn't last too long under that name. This later became "Hylands, Spencer and Yeager", in which Porter was still involved greatly, under the lording leadership of Fred Hylands. Porter was out of this firm a little bit before it collapsed, and before all of Fred's stock was sold in 1902, it left Fred almost broke for a little while, but Porter was going on to better things that pitying Fred Hylands' sorrow. Porter was off to Europe, where he must have run into his old friend Russ Hunting. Porter was  a recording manager for Nicole records in 1902 to 1906, which was a London based record company. In this time away from western shores, Porter went all over India, and Burma as well, running record affairs in those companies. He returned to his old friends refreshed, and ready to record quick. He began making records with Len Spencer right away, as he was still going strong in the recording business. He saw who was still recording and who wasn't, pitied those who weren't, but was right back to making records. This was the time that began making those really popular and numerous "Flannigan" records, much to the likeness of his friend Russ Hunting's "Casey" records of the 1890's. He was not working nearly as much with Spencer after he and Ada Jones began to collaborate again(notice I said again...). Porter was making popular Irish sketch records before 1910, and after he met up with Byron Harlan again, they started making records like mad. Porter was a kind and amiable man, short, dark blond, always well-dressed, this way after learning of the true sins of the music business from working with Len Spencer and Fred Hylands. He really truly enjoyed working in the studios, and always had a passion for making records, and creating new things. His patents of the late-1890's can truly show for it. He still invented, and made records into the 20's, when most of his old friends had either died, or were almost dead. It's surprising really, that the yacht racing sacred song singer of the 1890's made the first commercially sold hearing aid, in 1926. His sales were broken by the crash of 1929, and he lived terribly for the next few years after that, dying in the same year and under the same despair that Byron Harlan did.


 I hope you enjoyed this! 

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Character Studies-- W. H. Krell(1868-1938)


Yes, I know Mr. Krell wasn't a recording star, but he had connections with two recording stars of the 1890's and 1900's, and he's a fascinating character to illustrate and describe. Krell was born in Pennsylvania in May of 1868, to two German immigrants, who were not involved in music at all, but knew from an early time, that their son was. He first took up brass instruments, learning low the brass, trumpet, as well as a little piano. He wasn't primarily a pianist, which is a contributor to the fact that the first version of "Mississippi Rag" was only a band arrangement. It took a little while for the collection of melodies to become a piece published for piano. By the late 1880's, Krell was playing in local bands, but he wanted to move somewhere else, somewhere larger than his home town, where he could make a name for himself. He decided that Chicago would be the place to go. So by 1889, he was living out in Chicago, and beginning his own band. In 1890, he had formed "Krell's Band" and he was beginning to make a name for himself as a local bandleader and cornetist. The local eccentrics ran into him at the big World's Fair of 1893, and this is why he wrote a bunch of music in '93. This is where he ran into Silas Leachman, Ben Harney, Fred Hylands, Bert Morphy, possibly Byron Harlan, and a host of others. Krell's first known piece is a remembrance to the former Chicago Mayor who died in 1893, with the music primarily composed by Silas Leachman, as well as the lyrics. He wrote the "Cake Walk Patrol" in 1895, and then by the end of the next year, had written out his arrangements for "Mississippi Rag", only to get them published in January of the next year, 1897. He remained conducting his band until the beginning of the 1910's, and from there faded into complete obscurity.

Willie Krell was a classic German bandleader. He not only had the looks, but the competitive and organized means of a Germanic brass player and bandleader. He was about 5 foot 8, strongly built, had small blue eyes, and hair that was golden, very light, and seemed like the lightest gold that a person's hair could be. He was a short-tempered man, much like Sylvester Ossman, and wouldn't take any "B. S.", from anyone. If something wasn't done his way, he would speak out against the opposition and make them think his way, and abolish all others who thought otherwise. He was determined to have the best band in  Chicago, at any means possible, even if it meant beating up some members of his own band. He was the most determined and destructive bandleader Chicago ever had before the Jazz age, only because he was desperate for the best band he could possibly have, and have the best Chicago music-makers by his side, which at his height in the mid-90's, he certainly had. He was also a drinker, some one too, not a terrible one, but one who went out and drank after those "society shows", and maybe took a few band members along with him. The record managers of Chicago avoided him, as he was too much like banjoist Ossman, and that wasn't always the best thing, also because nothing would be able to be done his way in a recording studio. He probably had offers, as the Chicago talking Machine company was gaining a reputation by 1895, and was looking for better staff members. Of course, he refused this, even though it would have been interesting if he had accepted. With the help of the few Rag-Time performers he knew left in 1898, he wrote his third rag, "The Piccaninny Rag", this Rag was much more true to the actual style of the pianists he heard around him in Chicago, even if it was composed after many of them had left for New York. He had become especially evil toward his band members by 1900, as a few incidents of injured band members and filed arrests really showed that he was even more determined by then, as the business was becoming very crowded and full of competition. He was great at what he did, but a terrible man at rehearsals and after shows. By 1905, he was starting to wind down a little bit, and somehow, he knew that he hadn't too many years left in the music business. How he knew it, by the one-step era(or just before the starts of the Jazz age) he was out of the business completely. It was good that he did that, since he was going to end all of that inevitably, so no more of that competitive atmosphere could kill him. He lived out in Florida for the last few decades leading up to his death in 1938, where he died in complete obscurity. He was remembered for decades afterward as just that bandleader from Chicago who won that music-writing contest with his "Mississippi Rag" in 1897.



I hope you enjoyed this! 

Friday, October 9, 2015

Who Hylands Corresponded With

Composer Barney Fagan
Roger Harding

Three familiar faces. Faces that saw Fred Hylands' frequently in 1899. When Hylands began his "Hylands Spencer and Yeager" firm in 1899, he didn't realize that he would be corresponding with all sorts of famous performers and vaudevillians, of which ranged from the tremendously popular May Irwin to his close friend Len Spencer. He came across pretty much everyone you could think of in the early Rag-Time business in 1899 and 1900. His sheet music covers can show for it. It's not really the composers that really catch the eyes of a sheet music nerd with Hylands Spencer and Yeager music, it's who's on the cover that catches the eyes. Hylands advertised some familiar faces on his music, possibly by his own choice, or from someone else involved in the firm. It's why I question which one of the many involved in this firm decided to have Ada Jones on their covers, several times.
Was it Len Spencer or Fred Hylands? Who took the first fancy to her? I haven't any idea. It's either one of those two though, I do lean more toward Spencer on that one. When I mention Byron Harlan getting advertised on Hylands' music, I would say that that idea came solely from Hylands himself. Hylands must have found Harlan an absolute riot! I can see him now smiling and laughing at Harlan's comedic routines in the publishing office. Hylands must have really had a good time when he ran this firm, as hearing all the hottest singers in his own publishing office must have been great for him. As we can see from this here:
He really wanted everyone he could possibly have come to his office and sing or perform for him. From how many different people he advertised on his music covers, it seemed that they did come to him, and many of them did. More probably came than he and Len Spencer could have ever thought. Hylands, as I have explained before, was not too great with his money. This fact had terrible consequences. It certainly was one of the main causes of the collapse of this firm, and from the amount of partying and musical experimentation, it would seem that this drained his profits quick. 
It was very successful for a recording artist-operated publishing firm overall, as this sort of thing was destined for complete failure in the late-1890's. It didn't last too long, but it lasted long enough to be well-recognized in the whole music community of all New York in 1900. That's a big deal, if all the big publishers took a notice to Hylands' firm by how much fun they were all having there must have caught their attention. Since all the great singers came to Hylands', he must have been on to something. It wasn't just the foolish mess that the recording boys at Columbia thought it was upon first hearing Fred's ideas of this firm. 
May Irwin 
Marie Hylands 
Three ladies of Fred's liking for his firm. We know that the third lady is his wife of course, but the first two are ladies of similar profession of whom he came across in the phonograph business. I have a notion that Len Spencer introduced May Irwin to Fred in 1898, and she later visited the firm office to sing and play her 'cello or piano for him. Len Spencer had become a good friend of Irwin's back in 1895, as he was championing her songs for the phonograph, and she took notice to this and went to find him to genuinely acknowledge his skill. Sallie Stembler was a popular singer on the local stage in 1898, and later was given a phonograph job, which is where Fred took a fancy to her, and must have been shaken from his work to see her in his office the next year to introduce his newest publication. He later gladly had her picture put on the cover of J. Fred Helf's "A Picture No Artist Can Paint" which is where that picture above came from. It wasn't just the singers who came to Hylands, it was also the phonograph salesmen and exhibitors. The reason for this was because he wanted his sheet music covers to be shown at the exhibitions that had the records to go along with it. This got Hylands even more profits, as that was the advantage of being a recording artist and publisher. The advantage of this idea was that he could not only get money from the sheet music sales itself, but he could also get money from the phonograph exhibitors. The phonograph exhibitors offered quite a good profit in that time, especially if you were a publisher of music that they had on their records, even better if the publishers advertised the very singers on the cylinders just like Hylands did. It really was a fantastic idea, and it served well for everyone of the twenty or so people involved regularly in this firm. It was Hylands' irresponsibility that led to the overall demise of this great idea however.  It did create a great model for publishers in the 1910' s and 1920's though, because this sort of thing became much more common a decade after Hylands Spencer and Yeager blew to bits. 
This firm created some really important and interesting connections though, some that would not have happened had it not existed. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Monday, October 5, 2015

What Mr. Quinn Recalled

C. 1893
1933, as you can see.

We all know of Dan W. Quinn. Some of us may even have read some of his letters to Jim Walsh in the 1930's. Quinn was a very funny and honest man, one of the very few supporters of the temperance movement in his performing community in the 1890's through his death in 1938. That in itself is an amazing feat that I will forever respect Quinn for. It's truly amazing that he didn't drink alcohol while all of his fellows in the recording business were drinking themselves sick. 
Quinn was(if you think about it) the only one of the original recording pioneers to live past the 1920's, all the others were gone by that time. This list would include:
George Gaskin(died 1920), J. W. Myers(died c.1917), Len Spencer(died 1914), Billy Golden(died 1926) Fred Hylands(died 1913), and more.
Yes, my claim just above is not entirely accurate, but when I say that, I mean the ones who were actually interviewed about their experiences. Russell Hunting and Steve Porter could easily have been reached out to in the 30's, but the researchers couldn't get to them, for some reason I do not know. 

Jim Walsh got quite a lot out of Quinn, and the amount of things that he recollected is slightly surprising since he was a man of near 80 when these letters came through to him. He must have been elated to have someone interested in his much beloved past. Quinn must have genuinely enjoyed sharing his experiences with younger geeks, and if some of us modern record geeks lived back in the 1930's, Quinn would certainly have had a great time sharing his tales with us. Quinn explained this as his first experience with that infernal contraption called the phonograph:

In January, 1892, I was engaged to entertain a political club in Hoboken. One of the features was a man who gave  phonograph exhibition and invited everyone to make a voice test. Many folks got up and sang a song or recited something and he reproduced the result. The phonograph was a great novelty at the time, and these records created a lot of amusement, though most of them were terrible. I was a loath to make an attempt, but they all begged me and I finally did. I was lucky enough to have a voice and style of singing that were just "made" for recording, so I may say without egotism that I was a veritable "riot", I don't know what it was about my voice that made it "go" as I always sang so quietly[this notion can be challenged now]. There must have been some latent penetrating power. Anyway, the operator urged me to go to one of the laboratories to make a real test.

This whole story is a very odd way to get into the recording business, but I have the feeling that this sort of thing happened quite a lot, and it must have been how several of the earliest stars in the recording business were discovered. Just like Fred Hylands, as I'm sure someone came to a gathering where he was playing at and took a fancy to his playing style. Anyhow, back to Quinn. He spoke a multitude of times about his old manager, Victor Emerson(seen below)

Why he spoke so frequently about Emerson I have no idea. They always said how much of a mean person and as a manager he was. Very contradicting indeed. Here is one of the things Quinn said about Mr. Emerson: 

It was while working for Vic Emerson that I began to work like a good fellow and went after all the latest songs. I learned everything whether it naturally suited my style or not. The good singers--I mean fellows like John W. Myers and George Gaskin--were slow getting up their stuff, and, I being a sight reader, just couldn't keep from learning every new number. 

He goes on in saying a few of the songs that he had specialties for and what he was the first to record of the popular songs back in the 90's. Here is what he said about Emerson:

This latter["The Cat Came Back" as Quinn says] song was so popular Mr. Emerson told me: "Dan, I wish it were possible for you to sing that song a thousand times."

That was actually something that I have heard about several times when the artists mentioned Victor Emerson. He did demand quite an unreasonable amount of work from his favourite artists. So thinking of Emerson saying this is not really too much of a surprise. One thing that's odd to note, is that Quinn always said that he loved singing those few sacred songs that he recorded back in the 90's, he even said this one thing here:

I Made my living in the frivolous field, but my heart was in the other.

That one thing has always surprised me greatly about Quinn. That was the one thing that when I first read his letters that I thought I would not expect to hear from him. In the time that Walsh wrote to him(which was from 1932 to 1937), Quinn was hit pretty hard by the depression, and often told Walsh of his woes in the business from the Depression, here are a few of those, including his reaction to hearing about Byron G. Harlan's depression troubles(which were far worse than Quinn's...):
From 1932:
[I have] Been very successful until old man depression took a wack[sic] at me and running "true to the times" I got a setback... If the good Lord will keep me in good health I'm going to work hard to recover some of the lost ground.

A few months later he said this:
...business has taken on a little "boom'" which gladdens my heart so much as times have been terribly bad, and now that things are showing a little animation I am spurred on to greater efforts in order to replenish the exchequer and thereby the better enabled to keep the traditional "Wolf" from trespassing too far over the sill of our domicile. 

One thing about Quinn's writing, is that the man used a whole lot of 1890's slang. Sometimes I'm not 100% sure what he's referring to in reading his letters, but most of the time I can understand it. Those boys he worked with(like Len Spencer and Fred Hylands!) really seemed to have gotten to him! 
Any hoe, here's his writing hearing about Harlan's disposition:

...mighty sorry to hear of Byron's sorry plight, Gee! it's tough but we've all had experiences. I practically had no season at all, last twelve months, and I name a few and you probably have heard of them and you would sure be surprised... Oh, for those old phonograph days "When De'Dough Came Rollin In".

Quinn's last letter to Walsh went like this:
                                New York, May 13th, 1937
                            My Dear Ulysses,
Our good friend, Robert Maybach, has told you that which indeed is too true. My wife passed away on April 24th, having suffered greatly from an old malady, a rupture, which was primarily the cause of her final "taking off". She grew weaker and weaker and on April 23rd she told me "she wanted to die" so intense was her pain that now there is one consolation in my heart --she can no suffer no more. Had she lived, Ulysses, until May 5, we would have celebrated our 54th wedding anniversary. She was 70 years old last December 16th. She was much beloved by all who knew her. They called her "Mother" Quinn in the profession. She was 12 years old when I first met her; we were married when she was in her sixteenth year. She left a great family:she had six children, eleven grandchildren, and two great granddaughters , Jean and Joanne... I wish to thank you for your expressions of sympathy, which are both comforting and consoling, and will be remembered with deep gratitude. Remember me to our mutual friend, Mr. Rouse. Singular how we can love people we have never met in the flesh. Give him my best wishes and ask him to write to me. I need you both now to help me "Bear the Cross". I will write to you soon again regarding your inquiry about Len Spencer, and other matters I wish to look up. You probably know about Ed Meeker[who had just recently died in 1937].

               Yours in the faith,
Dan W. Quinn

Now before I close off, here is one of the most disappointing possibilities of any of these early recording stars, this is one thing that Quinn said back in 1932:

I had thought of writing a book concerning my experiences both on the stage and phonograph--it surely would be mighty interesting reading--of this I am certain, as many times I have related several little incidents "setting the table on the roar", so to speak, and I have a fund of them.

That would have been the most interesting and valuable book ever published about the early recording business. It almost sets me to tears when I think that Quinn actually wanted to do this, and when he said that, he had several more years left. It will forever be disappointing. 

I hope you enjoyed this! 


Thursday, September 24, 2015

More about Burt Shepard

A good young researcher posted a kind comment on this blog this evening, and I would like to fulfill his kind obliging by doing a post fully dedicated to the great Burt Shepard.
There he is, the comical genius himself, in c.1890-92

I don't know what the exact year of Burt Shepard's birth was, and no one does really, as when he was interviewed, he never stated, and he specifically didn't state it. To most scholars and geeks, he was born between the years of 1852 and 1854, and probably in the midwest somewhere(quite possibly in or near New Orleans even). It's hard to know with him, but he was certainly from the midwest. But where exactly, we may never know. I have the slight suspicion that he might be from New Orleans is because of the fact that it was there that he got his first performing job. In c.1873-74, he joined a New Orleans based minstrel troupe and stayed with them until 1878. In that year, he was off in a minstrel troupe in Philly. He performed in several minstrel shows from 1879 to the mid-1890's, and at one point in 1892, he began his own show for a season or two. He wasn't just one of the minstrels in blackface of the shows, he also performed as the pale-skinned middle-man of the show, moderating and setting up the jokes, much like Len Spencer did on all of those Imperial Minstrels records, from 1894-95 and again in 1896-1901. You can hear one of these here from 1898(with Len Spencer, Steve Porter, Roger Harding, and Fred Hylands). I can certainly see and hear Burt Shepard doing what Steve Porter did on those cylinders with Spencer. 
In 1897, he went on a long trek around the world, which started first with England, where he made a few of his first records. He then stated that he went to Australia, Paris, and South Africa. He did make a few records for Pathe(pronounced "Patt'e" by Shepard on one announcement I have heard!)when he was in France, as a few can be found in various places online. 
When he was back in the U.S. in 1900, he was making records for Victor. 
This is where most of his remembrance comes from, his Victors and few Zon-O-Phones. 
Perhaps one of his most discussed records is his monologue, "The Boy and the Cheese", which was numbered A-7 on the Victor label. It was his first record, and it has been debated to being the first Victor commercially released. It has been debated, because for years, it was believed that Dan Quinn's Victor A-9 "Strike Up the Band" was the one, but later this place in Victor History went to Shepard's "The Boy and the Cheese". After he made this record, which sold reasonably well for a while, he was a "regular" in the studio. 
He was a favourite with all the studio workers, and he was a real riot to see in general. He was always said to be a jolly man with a slightly crude sense of humor, who wouldn't seem that way when first seeing him. He took on some really fun songs, that really suited his personality very well. 
Here are a few good ones:
http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002633/Pre-matrix_B-3490-Other_things_too_numerous_to_mention
http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/100002642/Pre-matrix_B-3499-It_was_beautiful
http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/200002948/B-1652-The_robin
http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/index.php/matrix/detail/2000001155/Pre-matrix_B-1692-Thats_where_she_sits_all_day
https://ia600308.us.archive.org/23/items/BurtShepard/BurtShepard-Smoke.mp3

I know I already did a whole bunch of comments about Shepard's record of "The Robin", but I just cannot get over how he pronounces certain things and how midwestern his dialect sounds. In many ways, he really sounds quite a lot like Byron G. Harlan, and Harlan was from Kansas and Iowa. If only Shepard stated any hints as to where he might be from! It really is pretty much impossible to know where he came from with him not saying where he was from. Who knows why he didn't state this? That, we will also never know. 

Anyhow, he remained in the recording business until 1906 in America, and went off to England in 1908 up until the year of his death, in 1913. It's ironic, Shepard died in England the same year that Fred Hylands did, and for all I know, they may have run into each other! I am not really sure of what Shepard died of exactly, but it must have been tied in somewhat with his weight. Fred Gaisberg recollected quite a lot about Shepard, as he came into the Berliner London studio quite a lot in 1898 and 1899, he recalled Shepard being a real sight to witness when he made records, as a fat and jolly man with a great sense of humor. It would seem that Gaisberg would have heard of Shepard's death, as well as the early Victor executives that were left in 1913, and mourned him, just as all the Edison staff did with Frank P. Banta back in 1903. Shepard's records are highly prized to collectors nowadays and go for hefty prices when they surface. I haven't any myself, but I know collectors who have dozens of them, just like Silas Leachman's records as well. 


I hope this helped out the kind student who commented on my last Burt Shepard post! I hope you enjoyed this! 



Saturday, August 29, 2015

Two Birthdays and a Death date


Well, two of those listed above have a birthday on this day, August 29, and one died on this day back in 1901. 
Byron G. Harlan(0f Collins and Harlan) was born on this date out in Kansas in 1861, and Edward M. Favor was born on this date as well in 1856.
Roger Harding died  on this date  in 1901, as the too young age of 42. I really try not to miss any birthdays, even though I have already missed some. Byron Harlan is one that's hard to miss, and since it's the same as Edward Favor, it makes thing easier. 
Like I do on these artists' birthdays, I play many of their records in their honor, and maybe draw a picture or two of them. So here are a few great records by Harlan and Ed Favor to celebrate their birthdays.
Harlan:
with Madeira and Hylands, 1901
with Frank Stanley and Hylands, 1902
(Hylands is really good on this one!)
With Hylands, 1903
With Banta, 1902
With Joe Belmont, Frank Stanley, Banta and the "Floradora girls", 1902

Now onto Edward M. Favor. Favor is a very collected singer, whose records are very valuable to the geeks out there who want them. 
Here are some of Favor's best:
from 1893(probably Edward Issler on piano)
with Banta, 1899
with Hylands(?) mid-1897(not sure if it's Hylands on piano...)
with Hylands, 1900(very nice Rag-Time)
with Hylands, c.1903
with Banta(?), 1902(the pianist on this one is hard to tell.)


Well, I don't really want to put up any records by Harding on his death date, but I did wear black to-day, in rememberance of it, as Harding was a great little man with a great sense of humor and a funny voice. I hope you got to enjoy the records above!


I hope you enjoyed this! 







Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Hylands behind the better known artists

(From my own art, representing Hylands and his wife Marie reading unexpectedly bad reviews of his shows in 1907)

Well, we all know how Hylands accompanied all the popular singers of the 1890's on those brown wax Columbia's. Singers like Len Spencer, J. W. Myers, George J. Gaskin, Dan Quinn, etc. But what about the singers who began in the end of the 1890's and became more popular in the 1900's and later the teen's? Singers like Billy Murray, Arthur Collins, Collins and Harlan, Bob Roberts, and more. He had at least been behind them all once. 
Hylands had a special friendship with Byron G. Harlan however, only because Harlan was endorsed by the "Hylands Spencer and Yeager" firm back in 1899. From there, Hylands had gotten Harlan some shows here and there in 1899 and 1900, which helped him along finely, as his recording career was just beginning. They had formed a friendship early, and it may even go back even further in Hylands' history. The connection between Hylands and Harlan may go back to when the Hylands family lived in Chicago, which is where Harlan may or may not have still been living in 1893 and 1894. Harlan had ben living there in the late 1880's and possibly off and on in the early 1890's. Which may have called for the two blond hicks to run into each other at some point, and exchange some information maybe. 
Anyhow, Hylands had to accompany EVERYONE. It's just how the job as a house pianist went, everyone who worked there as a featured artist had to deal with whoever was the pianist there when they showed up. 

To start off with the cavalcade of wonderful cylinders, I would like to start off with a cylinder that one of my close collector friends really has a strong liking for. Here you go with the one and only Billy Murray with Fred Hylands in 1904:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/4000/4730/cusb-cyl4730d.mp3
Hylands is a riot on this one! I love the sound of the piano on this! 
Murray's earliest three years in the commercial recording business were very fun and interesting. Columbia(believe it or not) was the first company to hire him after the recording bust in San Francisco in 1897. They had him in their studio for the first time in late-1902. Which is surprising, because he was doing the big minstrel shows at that time, not yet really using "Billy" as his first name. His records from 1902 are very few, and very hard to find in general. I'm not sure whether the boys at Columbia used "William Murray" or "Billy" when they issued his first records, it's unclear, if anyone can tell me, please do! 

This next one is one of Murray's 1902 Columbia's. It's on a disc however. 
This is a very interesting and unusual one by Murray, other than it being an early one for him, the song itself was one that he never went at later. He really does sound very young. 
Here you go, from 1902, with Hylands' piano accompaniment:
https://ia802606.us.archive.org/6/items/BillyMurray_part1/BillyMurray-HasAnybodySeenOurCat_64kb.mp3
Hylands hits a bunch of tenths in there...
That's very early Billy Murray alright. 
Murray became a new imported part of the late Imperial Minstrels, which to that fact, Len Spencer probably found him. How ironic is that! Murray lied about much of the so-called "Discoveries" of new recording artists, such as the whole Ada Jones thing. We all know that it was Hylands and Spencer who first found her. 
Now onto Collins and Harlan:
I still have a special place in my heart for these two. Only because after I did my big seminar about them, I had to read every thing about them I could possibly get my hands on for a whole year. So basically, it was a whole year fully dedicated to Collins and Harlan. So in this, after I did my seminar, I had to lay off anything about them for a long while, to where it almost seemed as though I forgot about them, but that will never be so.
When Hylands was behind these two on piano, it was a very fun time in the studio. As He and Harlan just fooled with each other sometimes, having that connection that Collins hadn't with Harlan. Here you go with my favourite Collins and Harlan with Hylands, from 1903:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/mp3s/6000/6868/cusb-cyl6868d.mp3
I know I have shared this one before, but I love it just the same. Hylands' jarring and LOUD elbow on the piano thing is just wonderful. It's so perfect and proves how much fun those Collins and Harlan with Hylands sessions must have been. 
This next one I think I may have shared before on this blog, if not, it was the Collins and Natus version. This is also a fun Collins and Harlan with Hylands collaboration. This one is eh...Interesting...
Here you go, from late-1902:
https://ia801408.us.archive.org/8/items/CollinsHarlan_part3/CollinsHarlan-TellUsPrettyLadies_64kb.mp3
I love this parody os much. Weber and Fields really got it right. 
Hylands is really hitting the piano keys HARD! You can hear it very well. He kills it on this one! I love the lyrics and the piano, even if the record itself is pretty muted. 
This next one has the same personnel as the last two, and it's from early-1903. This one is a very odd one...
https://ia801408.us.archive.org/8/items/CollinsHarlan_part3/CollinsHarlan-TheWeddingoftheRubenandtheMaid.mp3
Ok, I have a lot of speculation about this record. There isn't an announcement at the beginning, but it's for sure a Columbia disc. Hylands is drunk for sure, just listen to the piano playing. And I hate to say it, but one of Collins and Harlan is too. I'm not sure which one, but I'm leaning more toward Collins. Tell me what you think! 
To close off, here is one of Collins' most famous records, which just happened to feature Fred Hylands on the piano behind him:
https://ia700407.us.archive.org/17/items/ArthurCollins_part1/ArthurCollins-BillBaileyWontYouPleaseComeHomeCoonSong.mp3
This is indeed a very famous recording. I still love it, even if it's slightly cliche. 
This is a very interesting record to try to dissect, as Hylands's playing speeds up and slows down quite a lot, and Collins' positions at the horn vary clearly. This is one of those few records where you can actually tell when the singer moves toward and away from the horn. It's odd that way. Also, Hylands was drunk, and I now have the feeling that Collins may have been too, as he's very tame and calmed compared to some of his other coon songs from around the same time. Really take a few listens! 



Sorry it's been a few days, I'm just about to go to another Rag-Time festival this weekend, so I'll be out of commission from Thursday to Monday, so I'll try to do a post tomorrow night before lights out. I hope you enjoyed this!