Detailing research and Arthur Pryor

Okay...who did it?

Who's been putting up all the less-than mediocre information on all these early recording stars? A few days ago I went online to dig up a picture of Charles P. Lowe for a friend,and for some reason I stumbled upon this picture:

The nice quality and the fact that it was more of the image than I had seen before caught my eye. But that's not all, the picture led me to a wikipedia page on Issler's orchestra. Okay, I would love to help someone out to get all of the information that I (with help)recently uncovered about Issler, including the basics. I don't want to mess with wikipedia, I find it important to keep independent research on its own, not in a place where it is less-than trusted. Independent researchers have much power, and I intend to keep it that way. However, the only time that I would step in, would be a time like now, since someone took many of my cropped images(from this blog!) and used them to accompany the less-than-mediocre articles on these giants like Len Spencer, Issler, and John Yorke AtLee. I am glad to see some of my research being used out there, but I don't like to see it misinterpreted and not used correctly. 

I promise to stay away from the generic(wikipedia), since that will take me out of this blog, and will frontload too much information to people looking for generic(BUT ACCURATE) information. 
I don't know who you are who did it, but stop taking pictures from here and writing less-than-mediocre articles about the earliest recording stars, and all I have to say is...

STAY AWAY FROM HYLANDS.

Let me handle that subject. I intend to use the research I have conducted, and make it accessible to everyone who is curious, but I don't like to see mediocre articles with my research either debunked or misinterpreted. 
I still think it's important to spread the word about Edward Issler though, since he is still very unknown in the record collecting world. Issler really should be one of the most important figures in the early recording world, and here's why this is evident:

-He was the first studio pianist there ever was(the first studio musician for that matter)
I'm sure the man himself would find it absolutely disgusting and depressing that no one remembers his work, which, at first glance seems an endless list. Of course, it will forever be a shame that Walsh didn't go find him, since Issler lived into the 1940's, and was still working into the 1930's. Though it may be evident that he was probably the most bitter old man, he still would have been the best source ever about the earliest days of early recording. 

-he knew literally everyone
This is the one reason why interviewing these studio musicians(not soloists) would  have been the most interesting and productive troves of information anywhere. Issler particularly knew everyone, since he worked for Edison , North American, U.S., and later Columbia the four earliest companies that were competitors. Luckily, Issler had the luck of working for all of them and essential times in their histories. So with that, he would have stories about everyone from Old man Edison to Fred Hylands to young Ada Jones. Think about it, think about all the people he would have known, in the recording studio and not. 

It's very hard to fathom at this point why Issler is forgotten, as he was all over catalogs, and his name was listed all over the place on actual ledgers. 

Look at that. There he is. Not only is he listed as a SOLO PIANIST but also as the accompanist for his clarinetist Willie Tuson. In this early book of ledgers, Issler is listed on almost every page doing something. This is why Issler is essential to studying the earliest recordings, in no matter what context, his name ought to show up almost anywhere. I hope to get to the point where we all know something about Issler and know how long he lived, since that is still a dead end when looking him up. Issler is still pretty mysterious to me, and I don't particularly know that much about him, though it may seem otherwise. 

We know he lived into the early 1940's, and would have been around 90 when he died, which is spectacular really. We still don't know what his relationship with Columbia was like, or any record company for that matter. 

Now I have a bunch of theories as to why he was kicked out of Columbia, or whatever they did. Of course, he may have been well used to how he was treated in the earliest days at Edison and North American, so when the business became much bigger and was becoming something very different, Issler must not have liked how he was becoming more of a wage slave than an orchestra leader. The way that Columbia treated their artists in the late brown wax era was less than mediocre, and this is very clear when examining the treatment of the studio musicians. He was used to being one of the sole managers of the studio, he was used to having much more power over the recording process. This couldn't have gone over well with the strict Emerson's. 

That is the face of Columbia's evil. 

He looks relatively harmless...Nope. 

I'm sure stubborn old Issler couldn't get along with Emerson. Even if Emerson was Issler's manager at U.S. from 1893 to 1896, Issler probably had enough of Emerson by 1898. His disappointment in Columbia must have been exacerbated by Hylands replacing him, who wasn't at all to the musical level that Issler was. Issler was likely the type similar to Hylands in the way that he was not only stubborn, but also intense and strident when it came to negotiations with booking agents and managers. Of course, under Emerson's rule, that wouldn't bode well. Emerson was stubborn and blunt, as we know from accounts of his former employees. Whatever they did with Issler, his recording stopped around 1899. And I really think more people should know about Issler, even if he's still mysterious and only a shadow of a figure in the history of early recording. 

Now to move to something else. 

recently, I have been digging into Arthur Pryor's rags, and I have come to a conclusion. Pryor should be regarded as one of the classic rag composers, on the same level as someone like Tom Turpin. I know that's saying an awful lot, but we often just think of Pryor on the context of his trombone playing. 

we often think of his amazing abilities that still astound trombonists and brass players today. Such as this record:

http://www.loc.gov/jukebox/recordings/detail/id/8702

Amazing. 

All of his solos bring a voice to the trombone that has never been replicated since then. 

There's three of the Sousa band guys, with Pryor at the far right. 

That picture was likely taken in 1893 while they were on their tour at the World's Fair in Chicago. All of them look very young, Pryor would have been 22-23 in that picture. When we look past the pretty face and the blond hair, Pryor was a fantastic Rag-Time composer. 

Underrated is the perfect word to describe his Rag-Time pieces. We need to keep in mind that he had a style that was a mix of the two most essential regional styles of early Rag-Time. In this case, I am referring to Missouri and Indiana style. Missouri is where Pryor came from, so he had the foundation of one of the most important Rag-Tim communities from the start. Later when he had just joined the Sousa band in 1892, he was destined to pick up interesting styles and sounds, and that's exactly what he did. After playing tunes like "Banjo Twang"(the Sousa band is mentioned on the cover of that piece) at the World's Fair, Pryor by the mid-1890's had the right foundation for a great rag composer. This foundation made his Rag style very strange while at the same time very interesting and varied. When we look at his published pieces, we can see they are very different from most of the rags we see out there, and when you get right down to it, his style sounds more like a primitive type of Joplin's style mashed together with Frank P. Banta's style. The thing about his style that is most interesting is how he often put the syncopated rhythm in the bass notes almost as much as in the treble. 

His most outstanding rag can be hard to determine, but my favourites of his are his "Frozen Bill Rag" and "Razzazza Mazzazza". He wrote quite a few more rags, and some of us Rag-Time sheet music collectors are still digging ones up, which is a good sign that there's more to hear of Pryor's musical genius. of course, I haven't said anything about his arrangements yet. That's a whole other thing to delve into, since he was just like Fred Hager, who left hundreds of arrangements without his name on them, but we have outstanding records to learn from. 

Pryor's band was hard to beat in terms of sound and talent, since unlike most of the studio orchestras from 1895 to 1915, I cannot find a single bad take by Pryor, or his band too. They seemed like the indestructible band, and Pryor was lucky to have inherited some of the best possible musicians for his group. 

As I have slowly been becoming obsessed with Pryor, I am trying to decide on a seminar topic for WCRF next year, since the earlier I have an idea the better in this case. With this new found affinity for Pryor has begun manifestation, Pryor is most certainly an option for a seminar. Of course, I will stick to more of what people don't usually focus on with him, his Rags and arrangements. 

Something that we can notice in his trombone playing that corresponds with his rags, is how he had that same kind of smooth but also pushy style that Fred Hylands had, which is a strange connection to make, but makes sense if you think about it. Pryor was on the outside of the recording studio constantly, much like Fred Hager, so we can be assured that Pryor took from his fellow studio bums(that being Banta and Hylands, and even Justin Ring). We are lucky to be able to see what he took from them, as even rags like Banta's "Ragged William" sound like some of Pryor's rags. 

take a listen:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxWWOq9CJIM

Banta's style was pretty similar to Pryor's, in the way that both their styles were naturally manifested.

what the %$#* does that mean?

(naturally manifested)

In this case it means that both of them had a style that was not strictly taught and fostered by traditional methods. They were naturally drawn to their styles by high musical abilities, like perfect pitch and perfect rhythm. We know Banta had perfect pitch(thanks Dan Quinn!), though we can't say for sure whether Pryor had either of those things, it's at least likely one of them had him. These two studio ramblers were not really that different, it's just that one(Banta) was confined to the studio for more reasons than just being contracted. Banta had the awful curse of being weakly built and having asthma, so there's another(more horrific and depressing) reason Banta seems to many of us like he was chained up to the studios. Pryor was more of a virtuoso of course, and had the Sousa band and his own to manage and go give frequent concerts, unlike Banta who didn't really do too much outside orchestra work(though he did do some). 

Anyway, I could go on and on, it seems my next post is beginning to take shape after comparing Hager with Pryor, and adding Banta in there. really get into some Arthur Pryor if you can, nothing is bad, ever, it's shocking really. 

Hope you enjoyed this! Sorry posts have become out of whack in frequency...

Some Phonoscope sections, and picture guesses

From going back through many of my record books, books on recording, and Rag-Time books, I have come to really wonder how some of these things we know of were passed on through generations of record collectors. Many of these yarns are very hard to track correctly, as some were just told to me through geeks I know who aren't exactly record collectors, and just friends of mine. I wonder where some of those Hylands stories came from...

It's one of the major problems with The Phonoscope, you don't really know what to believe or not. Toward the beginning of the magazine, it was very candid about everything it had in its issues, but as the months went on, it began to change slightly, with new people in the business coming from everywhere, and strange things happening all around. What should we fully believe? Take this thing for example:

Hmm. I have always had suspicion around this one. It sounds like typical Spencer, truly, being one of the most highly educated members of any recording staff at that time(but not exactly naturally intelligent if you know what I'm getting at). Hmm, a lady friend? What slight scandal... It's a very odd thing really, that we want to believe everything we read in The Phonoscope because it's by all definition a primary or first-hand source, just as much as Len Spencer's notebook is. It's a very unusual specimen of primary source though. If you know anything about the people who began this magazine, you know why I'm saying this. Of course, there are also sections like these here:

(still makes me laugh every time I see it ^ )

Well, we get a sense of how they thought of and how they treated their pianist. Some words from the man himself certainly helps. These sections were specifically put in there for comedy, as they were both sections in their General News column. Well, one of them was actually the third thing listed on the news page after the beginning column. Well, they made me laugh when I read them, so that means they do exactly what they're supposed to, even 118 years later. Though of course, it needs to be noted that the first section above was the first thing about Fred Hylands mentioned in The Phonoscope, and it would seem that the last section about him is here:

That's fantastic, but who was there while he was gone? Hmm(he was probably gone for only two weeks). Clearly it's the Phonoscope people reporting this, so he clearly was still working for Columbia, but not as often, as I had expected from him around 1900. Though as we know, he returned to working there much more often in 1901 to 1903(especially 1902 and 03!). Now among the travels I have been having in looking through the 1900 issues of The Phonoscope(which the May, 1900 issue is where that section above came from), I found this curious thing here from the same page:

Oh! the terrible fights! How they were real.
That is pretty much the funniest thing I have found in The Phonoscope. It really doesn't get any better than this. Imagine it! It's fantastic. I can see any three of these studio stars fighting for them, either slyly or openly. 
 I can see Hylands coming in to the exhibition hall, looking around for one, and rather quickly taking one, dragging the wire on the stairs, hoping Len Spencer is not anywhere. But just as soon as he gets up the stairs to the big room----there's Len.  No fan for Fred. 
It's one of the best things to imagine really, you can think of any one of these studio regulars, and it would work regardless. There are times where not all of these situations would apply to all the artists, but this one does! Especially since there was this thing here:

(some of you might have caught that the scene being described here is an exhibition at their big hall on the ground floor)

107 degrees! whew! Yep, that sounds about right. 
It actually is a very good thing to know, because I was often wondering about this sort of thing after reading that 1898 section just above. But as Ryan Wishner and I have discussed before, we wonder about any sort of heater or furnace in the winter, which they did have, but it is not really likely they would have used it very much, due to any sort of racket it made. That was not wanted when making records. 

Now to move onward to the second part of this post, some guesses for that amazing picture from last evening. Here is that picture once again:
(I'm going to be using this picture an awful lot now...)

Still amazing. 

Now I had some guesses as to who I thought that man might have been when I first took a look at the picture, but it's not like the exhibition picture where everyone can be identified reasonably well. I still cannot believe that this is that  street corner that was so highly spoken of in The Phonoscope and in local newspapers. Of all the Columbia stores and headquarters, this is the one where all of those brown wax cylinders were made from January 1897 to about the end of 1905. One of the many questions I have about this picture is:

Where is everyone? This place was said to have been one of the busiest places in New York in 1898(around the time that this was taken obviously). If they're all crowded behind the camera, I swear....
Who is that there? Is that one of the studio artists? It looks like someone with the body type of Billy Golden, or maybe even one of the Spencer's(or Fred Hylands? Ooh, I hope not). I swear, if that's Fred Hylands...


There's so much to ponder when looking at this stupendous picture, though it would have been better if they took the picture like the 42 Edison artists picture here:

(Banta's no. 35!)
That very picture of the Columbia studio could easily have been taken in a similar fashion to the Edison picture from 1900 just above. That would have been amazing. Think of all the forgotten faces that would be seen there. 
They easily could have gotten everyone to stand in a long row in front of the building(because it was an immense structure!). Don't know how many people would be there, but somewhere a little less than 42 would sound about right. I bet we could pick out people really quick just like in the Edison picture above, if Columbia took one of those pictures on their street corner. What's funny is that you'd see a lot of the same people, you'd see Quinn, Denny, D'Almaine, Watson, Albert Campbell, Marguerite Newton(Watson), Geo. W. Johnson, J. J. Fisher, William Tuson, and Fred Hager. Wait a minute! I just noticed a mistake in identification here!  You see numbers 10 and 11:

Yep, them. 
I just noticed that the list of identification states this:
10; M. Guiarini, Tenor
11; Wm. Tuson, Clarinet
Wait, that can't be right. No. 10 is Tuson, not 11. Here's my evidence:

That's Tuson! Damn.  Never noticed how tall he was...The person who wrote out the identification mixed them up. The thing that really gives it away is the whiskers, the ears, and the intense and expressive gaze. Wow, did not come to notice that before. 
Anyhow, if Columbia took a picture like the "42 Edison artists picture", many faces we don't normally see would be there. These include; George Schweinfest, both Spencer's, Vess Ossman, Steve Porter, Tom Clark, David Dana, Edward Issler,  Charles Prince, Fred Hylands(notice I put three pianists here), Minnie Emmett, Russ Hunting, George Graham, Roger Harding, Edward Easton, Victor Emerson, J. W. Myers, Will C. Jones, George Gaskin, Charles P. Lowe, John Yorke Atlee and who knows who else. 
Well, I can't really figure out who that chap is standing there in that picture, but it was certainly not John Atlee, Vess Ossman, Dan Quinn, or George Watson. i am leaning more toward Will F. Denny, Billy Golden, or Fred Hylands. *Leave comments on this post on who you think it might be!*

I hope you enjoyed this! 

Character Studies---Columbia Exhibitions(1898)

The Columbia exhibition, a joyous spectacle full of mirth and vigor.

(from left to right: Fred Hylands, George P. Watson, John Yorke At Lee, ?, Harry Spencer, and Russell Hunting)

They were truly sights to only be seen to experience, they were times where not only hustlers like the Spencer brothers could perfect their craft, but where eccentrics like Fred Hylands could warm up their hands and flick around their glossy hair. These exhibitions began every night of the week(not on Sundays of course...), at about 7 in the evening, after setting up had been done for two hour previous, and by 9, they would rotate a new group of people in and maybe leaving some of those from the previous group who wanted to stay in the madness. These performances and rotations of crowds would go on until about midnight. But of course, after that, all the staff there would spend another hour and a half cleaning up, and getting everything set back to how it was before. These were a very tiresome process, that would wear out the artists more than the usual recording days would, which was already a whole lot of work. They were fun to be at, but this was more so for the people that came to witness these great extravaganzas of recorded sound, and not so much for the poor souls behind the horns and performing for the masses. 

It would all start with Russ Hunting and Harry Spencer walking in at about 4 in the evening with the banners and boxes of records. Within the next ten minutes, many of the boys on the bill for the evening would pour in slowly. Next comes yodeler Watson, confident Len Spencer, little Charles P. Lowe with his canvas sacks of rosewood beams for the xylophone, little Roger Harding, "coon shouter" Billy Golden, New Yorker dandy Dan Quinn, and fat Fred Hylands with his black leather case of music with pages protruding from the edges. They would all find their places at the parlor(phonograph parlor that is!), setting their things in various places, with most of their things going on the racks holding the machines with the long horns attached to them. That's where all their hats would go, and their gloves, and their pocketwatches, made of gold, silver, or even rare aluminum. They would look at the bill that one of the Spencer's was hammering on the wall of the front doors, awaiting for the doors to be swung open to all. As they all got settled in, in came the food to be offered to all who came, this week the food was prepared by the Hylands'. This meant that his pleasant wife Maria would come in with the plates, bowls, forks, spoons, glasses, and everything else needed. Usually at these exhibitions, a list was made for according what family would provide the food for these for the week, so one week you could get some interesting stew made by Mrs. Watson(0r Miss Newton...),  the Gaskin's corned beef and cabbage, a feast of bits of everything from the Hylands', the elegant finery of the Spencer's, or something like sauerkraut and sausage from the Schweinfests. When came a week for the Hylands', you would know there would be quite a feast laid out on their table, so dear Maria would have to be preparing for days beforehand with Father Charles Hylands for the week. As Fred and Marie were getting all the food set up, with Fred dressed up nicely, and a cigarette in his mouth, the Spencer's were getting the horns at the exact angles needed for the singers on the bill for the evening, and occasionally yelling at each other for getting something wrong or breaking something.  Steve Porter and George Watson were standing high up on ladders getting the big banner up on the wall, trying dearly to not drop anything, or hurt themselves, with Russ Hunting spotting them, and making sure they get the thing straight.  After two hours of preparing and "herding of cats", at six-on-the-dot, Len would finally get his tails on, fix his hair, go to the front doors, and say "Let 'er rip!" as the doors were opened up. They let in hundreds of people, crowded very densely into a large room, but seemed small by the amount on people that came in. It seemed like chaos, but just as Harry Spencer stood on a stool, and waved around that wooden thing that CLICKS! very obnoxiously, everyone became quiet. He begins his announcement to the crowd about what the whole thing is, and why they were there, and the great amount of enjoyment they can have being there. He would step down from the stool, and Russ Hunting would then get up on it and begin introducing himself, and everyone else they brought, and who was on the bill for the evening. Hunting would introduce the recording process to them, holding up one of their blank brown wax cylinders, and explain the need for absolute silence from the audience during the demonstration. Then the program would begin, with the first artist listed on the bill, where the room would be completely silent as the machine was started by Harry Spencer, and all that could be heard was the machine's hum and whirr... 

Then began the piano accompaniment, Hylands would play the introduction to the song that was announced after the singer's announcement. The song was executed perfectly, with not a sound from the audience until the cylinder was slid off the mandrel and the machine was stopped of its movement. The room again bursts into conversation and cheers. This same process of recording and such would continue for another hour and a half, until an intermission arrives, and all the people disband about the room, and also go outside to get out of the warm and crowded inside. These intermissions were also good for the artists to mingle with the consumers, and the curious spectators, also for Fred Hylands to at last get up and stretch his legs. Many of the conversations with the artists were about what they were paid, how they liked working there, and things related to that. Much of the food and drink would be taken during these intermissions, and many records would be bought and sold, just as the staff members were instructed to do beforehand. At the end of the intermissions, the same process would begin again, with Harry Spencer waving that obnoxious thing around, and Russ Hunting beginning the next hour and a half of recording and explaining. The bill would go on accordingly, with the artists alternating at the front of the horns, and Hunting doing all the explaining, with the artists talking about the records, and making records themselves. There would be three hour and a half sessions, with intermissions, and finally with the final bows and thank yous done just before midnight. there were always a few people who stayed longer to talk with the Spencer's and Russ Hunting, as they were the ones running the thing, and there were always some who stayed longer, and wanted to chat with them without the rest of the crowd there to listen. As the others were cleaning up, mopping the floors, taking down the banners and posters, and getting the things off the racks. Fred would slam the piano key cover, stand from his oddly shaped chair, light up another cigarette, and observe the scene from his perch up high above the floors. Fred would always be the most worn out of the artists there, only because he had to come to every one of these exhibitions, not like the artists on the bill who would rotate in a differing order each few days of these. After a big one of these exhibitions, one of the staff members would bring a celebratory bottle of champagne for everyone, and of course, Fred and Len would be the first to have at it. Fred would gather all his music up, shove it in his case, take off his tails, grab his hat, and get the rest of the plates and bowls off the table with Marie...or he would more likely wait outside for her to get everything together. The Spencer's would gather up all the machinery, get their sacks of parts together, and head out quick, still getting a little frustrated with one another as the parts would click and hit something else as they went out the doors. As Russ Hunting would finally get the last three people out at the end of the ongoing conversation, he would get all that was his and head out quick, maybe helping out Marie Hylands a little. All the other artists were gone by then, leaving only Hunting and the Hylands' getting the rest of the plates and utensils out. Hunting would turn out the electric lights, and slam the doors at last, around 1 a.m. Even though Fred didn't really help her before, he would have to carry some of the plates on their way home. Dreading for the next week of this, thankfully without them providing the food. 


*Much of this description actually was taken from examples of these Columbia exhibitions as written about in The Phonoscope, in which many were described to have provided food, and also to have the artists bring it in themselves*

*a special thank you to Ryan Wishner for giving me the idea to do this! 

I hope you enjoyed this!