Studios in the Public eye

Ofttimes, it would strike us collectors to wonder what the general public perceived of the strange place that was the Phonograph studio. In the timer period, it actually isn't too hard to find sections from magazines and newspapers about this strange new industry. Much like how electricity was such a nationwide fascination in the 1880's and 1890', the recording business could be categorized in such a way as other new inventions and novelties were. These magazine and newspaper articles often tried to not impose any bias to record companies in their articles, as that would often spark some uneasiness between the competing companies. Unlike The Phonogram and Phonoscope, the unbiased nature of these sections was essential, an this is why we get infernal images like this one: 

Ones like this that haven't any labels or anything to go along with it, the damn articles leave us hanging to fight over who the pianist and singers are(to most it would be the singers, the pianist means nothing to most collectors...). The dodging of bias is all-right when considering magazines like The Phonoscope, but it's frustrating because we end up with unlabeled images. Now that section that the infamous image above came from was obviously talking about Columbia more than anything else, since it used Columbia images for the article. Keep in mind that the image on the cover page of the article is this one: 

Now we know that image can't be of the Edison studio. That pianist is obviously Fred Hylands. It doesn't help that both of the images have the same interesting wallpaper behind all the musicians and such. In fact, it's likely that these pictures were taken in EXACTLY THE SAME room, which is very odd, but if you really study the images, you can see it. 

Now what did the general public think of the studio? Let's stick with Columbia here, since most of the papers who wrote about studios were indirectly writing about Columbia rather than Edison(come on, everyone knew about Edison already...). Well, to start, the papers used to say it was much like a cross between "the rear of a theater and a machine shop", which does sum it up rather well, but that's only the appearance. They missed much of the odd social atmosphere that came along with this new community. The public generally saw these studio workers as eccentrics(which wasn't inaccurate), this is the record talent I'm referring to here. The studio laborers, such as engineers like Charles Carson and Georgie Emerson, were the more respectable of the bunch, since they worked with machinery and were often products of telegraph and telephone jobs in the 1880's. The record talent were, as we know, a weird bunch of freak musicians and performers, that were often questioned about what they thought of the business, and why they worked there in the first place. Of course, the lovely and infamous exhibition is where the freaks of the studio and the public were able to converse. 

There are countless articles and stories published in the pages of The Phonoscope about interactions between all sorts of people and the exhibitors. This seemed to be a popular subject in The Phonoscope, for the entirety of its existence. Without a doubt, these little stories about exhibitions are among the most interesting examples of writing in the magazine, most of them being in the Our Tattler column. Some of them(many of them actually) are somewhat racist, portraying Black and Asian people in stereotypical ways for the era, but are still funny by the humor that is being projected, despite the racism. The reactions of those described are really what the correspondents and writers for The Phonoscope were intending to sketch. One thing that would have been really funny to do is if they asked each of the recording stars(including engineers and pianists) what their first experience with the phonograph was like. That would prompt some interesting and exceedingly diverse points of view, certainly would make for some good reading! There are little hints of what these stars did in their earliest days in the business, but not exactly stories of how they started. From knowing Dan Quinn's first experience with the phonograph, this ought to spark curiosity of other stories. 

Of course, the only time that regular people got the chance to see Columbia in action was at exhibitions, and this gave a unique viewpoint to the public. It made Columbia seem more like a theater than a recording studio, especially since they had a specific bill for the evenings, with certain performers featured. It didn't help that the pianist(Hylands) was dressed in semi-formal clothes for many of these(he would certainly have needed one of those three electric fans in the dead of Summer...) as though he were going to Pastor's again to play in the pit. 

Yep. 

Of course, how could you have missed this brightly gleaming studio at 1155 Broadway, with supposedly 800 electric lights contributing to the spectacle. Certainly that bright place was hard to miss, and this was stated in the July, 1897 issue(really meant to be dated at January or so) of The Phonoscope where the still relatively new headquarters was described in detail as something that "attracts the notice and excites the admiration of every stroller on Broadway", which isn't too inaccurate, as it's likely that big celebrities dropped in on the exhibition parlor, like Diamond Jim Brady and Lillian Russell(that would have certainly caused a stir!). 

Oddly enough, describing what people would have thought of all this reminds me of the hilarious descriptive selection the Columbia Orchestra did called "On the Midway", because it kind of sums up 1890's Columbia in a nutshell, even for someone who wasn't a regular Columbia customer or enthusiast could have understood their atmosphere when listening to this record alone: 

Their 1898 recording of the Issler original "On the Midway"  

The fact that they spend almost a minute on the "hoochie coochie" dance part is really funny, because the Issler original from 1894 didn't even do that. The vibe of the 1898 recording is certainly looser, and much more playful. By 1898, people got a very different view of Columbia than if they had gone to an exhibition of the U.S. Phonograph Company(remember that they essentially fell and became Columbia in 1897) in 1895, or even as late as 1896. Just because I'm listening to it as I'm writing this section, here's the original 1894 Issler's orchestra recording of "On the Midway": 

cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder8101

Also, I didn't notice this until listening to is now, but there's some audible humming of the tune at the dance part at the end, and it sounds like it's probably Issler! Wow, something about that image is very strange. What's funny is that if Issler and his orchestra ever performed this sketch and all dressed up for it, Issler would have genuinely looked Arab. 

Yep, he could have fooled the audience as an Arab just as well as Spencer did as a dandy black man. 

Imagining the rest of the orchestra dressed up for this is just as funny. Just go back and look at that picture from the record catalogs showing images of all the Issler members around 1894. 

Include Len Spencer in this as well, since he did all the sound effects! 

Anyway, with all of this, it's safe to assume that the general public was fascinated with the early recording studio, as well as those who worked there, from the earliest days. Though in the earliest days(1888-1895), the public wasn't really able to fully immerse themselves in the world that was recording, since in that time only large scale demonstrations were done, rather than just exhibitions at the studios themselves. Of course, Edison never did such a thing(invite regular people in the studio to observe the recording process), even when doing this was fully in style. The fact that Columbia did this in their studio is another reason why they really were the company of the people, and were more inviting than Edison. Despite an incompetent recording manager(Vic Emerson), Columbia was the place where musicians were better treated, and had more freedom, thanks to Emerson being musically ignorant and tone-deaf, we get all sorts of strange takes with mistakes all over the place, of which we continue to find 120 years later. We must keep in mind that we are much more aware of the inner workings of the business than the general public was in the era itself, so we are not nearly as nearsighted they the listeners when the records were new. When you get right down to it, we know more about what we're hearing than most did who heard the records when they were new. 

Now to move to something a little different. Last evening, while listening to some records with Charlie Judkins, we listened to a bunch of Zon-O-Phone's with Hager on piano, since those are always fit when talking about early recorded Rag-Time. But other than that, we also came across a FANTASTIC 1905 Columbia with Lew Dokstader singing! 

(Geo.Primrose is seated and Dockstader is standing, image dated 1898)

Most of us have stumbled across sheet music with Dockstader on the cover, since he was on countless coon song covers, and have read often of his famous minstrel troupe. Many famous early rag pianists held the place of Dockstader's pianist, such as Mike Bernard and Les Copeland, but often us studio pianist scholars would wonder if any of the studio pianists held this place, well, we're in luck! 

This 1905 Columbia(also issued on Standard as I've heard) by Dockstader of "Everybody Works but Father" is a prime example of not just Dockstader, bu also of Hylands when he accompanied stage stars(solely stage stars, not minor ones like Quinn or Ossman, ones who were so famous not to be regulars in the studio). Dockstader was one of these huge celebrities in performing at this time, and luckily, he left a few recordings along the way like May Irwin and Clarice Vance. Before I get into detail, here's the 1905 Columbia: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-u32elU1LA

You can easily tell that Dockstader was really loud, hence the reason he's standing rather far away from the horn. 

This is one of those records where Hylands must have gotten all warm and fuzzy to accompany such a celebrity on a recording. He had likely already worked with Dockstader, so it must have been like when Hylands and Harlan were reunited in the studio in 1901, though of course meeting Dockstader again was a little less than the more casual atmosphere of seeing Harlan once more.

 The recording above is certainly one of the best examples of true minstrel show performance, since Dockstader had been in minstrel shows since the 1870's(according to The Monarchs of Minstrelsy), and he had spend many a  year perfecting the style of the classic minstrel performers in the years prior to the civil war. Despite the modern material, Dockstader sets the old-fashioned mood with his vocal style, and of course Hylands tops it off with his already archaic and folksy playing style. Though the record is pairing the old guard with the "young'un" so to speak, the duo ends up surprisingly well composed, despite Dockstader being nearly 20 years older than Hylands. Just goes to show that even Hylands wasn't the most progressive of the early studio pianists, and could replicate the Appalachian folk style of the mid to late 19th century better than even Edward Issler, who was just as forward thinking musically as Fred Hager and Banta were, despite the significant age gap. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Columbia as a workplace(1897-1904)

Despite the fact of Columbia's ledgers being long gone, we can piece together how complicated the building picture above was as a workplace for the talent, electricians, attorneys, laborers and everyone else. After a long discussion on this topic yesterday, it made me realise that Columbia was a larger operation than just the recording, even though it could be thought of that way beforehand. Columbia's 27th and Broadway headquarters were the center of the action for the staff in the late-1890's, it was where all the recording was done, exhibitions given, and primary store for record sales. The building seen in the image above was purchased by the Columbia management in 1896, and began operation in the first two months of 1897, a page from the July, 1897 issue of The Phonoscope wrote a very detailed description of the building seen above:

https://archive.org/stream/phonoscope13hunt#page/n137/mode/2up

(it's the first article in the edition!)

The building was certainly one of the brightest things on Broadway, and every description of the ground floor parlor never fails to describe those electric lights. In the section above, it is said that there were seven hundred incandescent lights. Seven hundred! Damn! Seven hundred chances to start a beastly fire is what that is! I'm sure it happened at least a few times, like those times when Len Spencer thought he could go an fix something simple, but it turns into a big problem. Remember this here, that was referred to many times later by the Columbia staff as an ongoing joke:

Indeed so, thinking of Spencer, he probably would have offered to try to fix more things like this, even after the piano practically screamed at him not do it on his own, and got what he deserved in trying to do so. Maybe piano tuning, light bulb changing, and running the pantograph machines in the basement. Other dangerous things like that seemed something he would try just because he could. If they didn't have one of the younger boys working there go to change the lightbulbs or clean the windows, one of the more ambitious Columbia clan members would go to it, like Len Spencer or Russell Hunting, or maybe even Victor Emerson. Remember that this was the 1890's so there would be little kids(little boys) running around the studio rooms to do small practical jobs, like cleaning the windows, carrying around crates of cylinders, going to fetch things from wherever to bring to wherever, and cleaning up the studios, such as the supposed gilt mirrors they had in the exhibition parlor(that's stereotypical Victorian alright!). It is clear that they had electricians there, and since there was such a terrible mess of electrical there, they most certainly had more than one, other than Frank Capps. One thing that I wonder if they had there in parlor was the supposed fad of multicoloured light bulb displays. 

It has been said that many phonograph parlors had light bulb displays that weren't just yellow-ish or white, but were red, blue, green, violet, any colours that could be dyed into glass. Maybe every once in a while when exhibitions were held at Columbia, they changed out come of the light bulbs for red or blue ones, or something wild and somewhat psychedelic like that. If they ever did that, it certainly would have made it more of a spectacle than it already was.We know what those exhibitions were like, and the great picture I've used countless times explains it better than any descriptions I've found:

The recent finding of the three electric fans makes this picture even better. Just to refresh, I am going to attempt to point them out in this picture: one is at the very top of the rack to left of the column that cuts it almost in half, another is on the shelf just below it, immediately to the left of the column, and the third one is set on the piano platform just behind whoever's elbow that is standing next to AtLee in the center. You may notice that the fans were running when the picture was taken, as they're a bit blurry, and that adds a sense of charm to it that makes the picture seem ever more less staged than every other studio picture.

A few studio stars and workers kept their mail at the building, and that was probably stored in the basement of the building, or maybe on the top floor where all the recording rooms were, either place would have worked. The recording rooms were always said to have had music going on, with some kind of activity constantly going, and people always moving from room to room, up and down the stairs, and back and forth through the halls. It seemed there was always something brewing, and gossip and stories being thrown around at every corner. The season of exhibitions in 1898 however must have especially been this way, since so much planning and organization went into hosting these exhibitions.  This is exactly why The Phonoscope is such an interesting and rare look into Columbia's studio gossip and inner workings, in a way that having ledgers wouldn't, and this can be proven by going through Victor's very complete and well-preserved ledgers. 

I have gone on rants before about Columbia's studios at different times of the year, and with knowing the electric fan feuds, it brings a better sense of what it was like to work there in the summer. They could have had more than three though, that would have been really helpful and would have diminished the amount of fights that ensued from these. At least one in every room would have done the best, though I'm certain that Emerson's and Easton's offices had all the luxuries the studios upstairs didn't. Of course, times in the winter there wouldn't have been any better, after they sent one of the young worker boys down to the basement in the morning to light up the furnace, and  get the radiators running, even if that could have caused some racket, they probably didn't have them in the recording rooms, and since they were on the top floor, it would stay warmer up there, maybe. The studio at 1155 Broadway became a place for many famous people to make appearances, as indicated in a few sections from The Phonoscope, though it was stated that this was more so when exhibitions were held, which makes more sense in that matter. 

One thing that was mentioned a few times in later editions of you know what, was a comical section about how the studio stars would show up in paydays all dressed up, standing on the corner, lined up to "carry off the coin" as stated in the November edition. It must have been a real spectacle to see them all lined up, dressed like dandies and swells, all smiling to take home their hundreds of dollars for their weeks' or so pay. Wonder if this was so in every salary day? How that would have been great to witness at a distance, probably sitting there on the corner of the other street for hours drawing as much as I could! 

Now for some music! 

These newly slowed down transfers are continuing to come along, with fantastic ways to finally hear these records made at the studio pictures above, and in others that were of a different name, such as Edison and Zon-O-phone. The new transfers for this post are two records recorded in 1898, one is by J.W. Myers:

and the other is by everyone's favourite "temperant" Dan W. Quinn!

The first record to be exhibited(ha! inside joke!) is a fantastic take of a rather boring but pretty Victorian song. Many of these old Victorian songs could be described that way, unless they're Will O'the Wisp or Captain Jinks, heh, both of which Myers recorded incidentally! 
Anyhow, here's his fantastic and beautiful, newly slowed down 1898 recording of "Alice, Where Art Thou":
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YeXhGWUF0LXg0MHhZUTg3Qk50TU5NbGZENzUw/view?usp=sharing
We can clearly hear that big long room they recorded this in, and the tone of the piano. I have explained before why I really like pianos to sound like the one on the cylinder just above, not just because old pianos generally sounds like that, but also because it actually has to do with how pianos were made in that time. With that old design, it made them sound more like guitars than a modern piano as we know it, and the sound of the piano in the record above exemplifies this fact. It's Columbia's old crappy piano, the one that was flipped over by Len Spencer in 1897, still sounding as aged and Victorian as ever, yet very pure, earthy, and dark. That's how Victorian pianos were supposed to sound, dark and "wirey", yet very pleasing to only certain ears. Many modern Rag-Time pianists don't realise this, they only think of it as an inaccurate stereotype, and many Scott Joplin freaks think that Joplin wouldn't have settled for a piano that sounded like the one on the cylinder above, but he probably hadn't a choice but to play a piano that sounded like so, since pianos generally sounded like that! 

Ha! take that neo-Classical Joplin freaks! 

Sorry, do excuse that. 
The second record to be listened to is a fantastic piece of 1898 Rag-Time by Dan Quinn, and it's one that many people didn't know had lyrics, here's Quinn's 1898 Columbia of "At a Georgia Campmeeting" newly slowed down:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YS0RDV2hHeXd0QXdPQW5YMjA3bTdkeUxqWWpJ/view?usp=sharing

It sounds amazing now, and all of Hylands' syncopation is very loud and clear, with all the typical yet atypical rhythmic stylings he had. This one particularly captures the syncopation better than most brown waxes he's on I've heard, and really captures the genius of Hylands' Rag style, that was very unique. His playing is so well captured on this record, that this transfer can be used as a reference in trying to identify his playing on other records from later on. It's very representative, and catches most of his distinctions, except for the walking octaves, which was an important aspect to his style. 


Keep yer ear-tubes runnin' out thar!

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Studying Studio pictures

A subject that is highly-praised in this field is the presence of early studio photographs, many of which are from Edison studios in the 1910's. Most collectors who have seem early studio pictures have seen the more typical ones of the Edison recording rooms, since there were so many images published in magazines of the Edison headquarters. Of course, there are plenty of early studios that we will perhaps never see, since their ledgers are completely gone, and nothing was left of them. 

To begin on this matter, I would like to showcase this fantastic image from 1892:

The date is luckily written on the original image, and it was inscribed "Sept. 24/92", which saves any age debate that might come along with this image. 

It appears to be one of the oldest Edison studio images I have seen, and it's their studio, not any of their other departments in the process of record making and selling. This is what I want here, it's a picture of where they made the records, to then go through all of the other parts of the process. It's a pretty cluttered room, seeming like an unorganized mess, with a hodge-podge of everything that the Edison Phonograph Works had to offer at the time the photograph was taken. You might have noticed that there's a "talking doll" set on the edge of the piano on the right, which is some great placement there! There's probably specific music set on all the music stands in this picture, but they appear to be unreadable from the quality of the image, if only we could see what music is there! One thing is for certain, is that Edison had some very nice pianos in their studio early on. Those pianos look very expensive compared to the ones that were used later in the same decade. The fact that the pianos are not uprights, and are much more classy tells you that it's certainly a recording studio from the preliminary days of the recording business(1889-1892). They had not learned yet that using very expensive and fancy pianos for the studio was a very bad idea. That was something that was learned not long after this picture was taken it seems. The one thing that this image is missing is the gaudy light fixtures, as the early studios were still set up in a similar way that the pianos were, very fanciful and gaudy Victorian, since it was still the 1880's essentially. You can see one of these exquisite light fixtures I mean here:

Amazingly overkill! 
Now that is a Victorian parlor. And it's Columbia! 
That just goes to show that my theory of Columbia being the company of gaudy parlors, frivolity, and wealth is true. That parlor it just astonishing! I have never seen such an amazing display of Columbia's inner workings, or just anything in terms of Victorian interior design. It combines a Gothic inspiration with crystal draped gas lamps, just lovely! Other than that, this image gets the point across that Columbia was dedicated far more than Edison to creating a great first impression, with being as ostentatious as they could. 

That picture just above is not exactly a Columbia studio picture, but this one is:

Now it be time to play a game of where's Waldo, looking for Len Spencer! 
He's probably somewhere in this picture, way in the back behind the horns.

This picture was indeed taken around the same time as the picture just above, so if you think you've found him, leave a comment on this post! 

Anyway, that Columbia picture seen above has been used on Tinfoil.com, and is originally from an 1891 edition of The Phonogram. It is a promotional photo for the U. S. Marine band making records for Columbia in their earliest days. One of which you can hear in the link below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WzmOgcum4c
The announcer on this has yet to be identified, but he seems to have been a regular announcer for the Marine band on their early Columbia records. 
The handful of 1890-91 recording by the Marine band can be accessed on Youtube, just like the one above, the one in the link seemed the most musically interesting to me immediately, so there are others if you'd like to hear more of them. 
What's great about the 1890 Columbia cylinders that survive is that you can really hear the setup, and that it's just the same one that they used in the picture above. That doesn't often happen with these records, since the balancing was so well done later on that oftentimes we can't really tell how things were set up in the studio. 


Now I have said before that I firmly believe every early studio picture is staged, with specific things put in designated places, and out-of-place balancing with instruments. This cannot be said for the Marine Band picture however, that seems to be one of the the rare occasions where the scene was barely manipulated at all before the picture was taken. It's obviously staged though, regardless of that observation, since one of the trumpet/cornet players in the very back row has his instrument down, and some of the overall setupdoesn't look right. It also seems strange that all of them are in their marching uniforms, though that may have been more common than assumed. This setup was also used by Sousa's band later in the mid and later 1890's, as a cylinder like their fantastic ragged rendition of "The Darkie's Temptation" from 1896.(rag-time geeks take note of this recording, it's a very important one in terms of authentic pre-ragtime, and it a great early Rag-Time piece overall). If you listen closely to this cylinder, you can tell that it's balanced the same way that the 1890 cylinders were. That means that since it worked, they kept the method for many years. 

Columbia's studios were well-photographed it seems, though not many of the original photographs exist after the destruction of their ledgers. The amount of images that were exhibited in The Phonoscope of Columbia's studio really tell how important they still found their presentation. These images were scattered all around record catalogs and advertisements in New York, as their most popular attraction was the exhibition hall, seen below in two different views:

inside to the right, on a hot early September evening

and in front of the place from the middle of Broadway

These two photos give you a very realistic and candid view of Columbia's famed exhibition hall, that supposedly attracted thousands of people a week in the Summer and Fall of 1898. The analyses of these images are endless, since there's a thousand small details in both of them, and there's so much to wonder about when looking these pictures over. Just to point out a few things about the first picture, the flag under the bunted one is well torn, there's an electric fan on the very top of the rack abreast the column in the centre and another one attached to the edge of the piano platform, John Yorke AtLee(in the middle of the picture) is standing on two large books, Hylands is the most formally dresses in the picture(ha!), there are weird looking gas lamps far toward the back of the room, even though there is a monstrous display of (possibly multicoloured) electric lights, and a whole lot more than just those things. These observations are small things that take a while to easily spot. In the second picture, you may notice that the setup inside the parlor is pretty much exactly the same as it was in the other picture. The piano is faced a little more to where the keyboard would be directly facing the doorway rather than a little tilted as it is in the exhibition picture. 

Just up those stairs that can be seen in both of these images would be two more floors of long hallways for recording, rehearsing, mailrooms(though I think everyone's mail was in the basement...), and offices for the managers. Many of the staff members used Columbia's address for where their mail went to, which is strange in a way, since I'm sure that things would get confused sometimes, and since the furnace was probably down there, they would all gather in a group to sort through mail when it got below freezing. 

Just up those stairs is where you could find scenes like these:

the Columbia orchestra and Fred Hylands in their "big" recording room(in this terrible lithograph thingy of a photograph from 1898)

and this famous photograph of George W. Johnson posed in recording action with Edward Issler in 1897.

These photographs give a very unique view of Columbia's recording rooms, and show how different each room was, as they are very different looking for rooms for the same purpose. It must be pointed out that the first studio picture of these two is the most obviously staged of all these studio pictures I have seen. So much is not right about the setup, as the singer(or announcer?) at the horns is posing as though he were singing or something like that, and the rest of the orchestra is being cued(maybe?) by Tom Clark with his hand up. Also take notice to how queerly Hylands' hands are positioned, one is down, but the other appears to be doing some weird thing I cannot really describe. Also, notice the coats hanging on the wall to the extreme right behind Hylands, as well as the scraps on the shiny floor. The Issler and Johnson picture is very straightforward, though I can tell that one is staged as well, since Issler would be playing behind Johnson when he was singing, not adjusting sheet music it seems, adjusting music would make too much racket. The setup in the Columbia orchestra picture is really comical, with chairs on tables and table on chairs, it's what's to be expected from Columbia and their ragged gang of "thieves" as Edison once called them. But of course, only the piano had its own invention for being balanced correctly, everyone else had to problem-solve for long while Hylands sat contently at his throne that was rigged up by Len Spencer and some of the other early Columbia staff members. 

These images are fascinating, and next Tuesday, I have to do a short presentation on the exhibition picture for my English class. I showed my teacher what I will be presenting, and she looked over the image practically laughing at how weird it was. She thought the angle was strange, the flash too bright, torn flag misleading, and the brass bars not a great idea on their part. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

More on the Mystery cylinder

After some brief comment section discussion this morning and telephone conversation last evening, it would seem that this mystery cylinder from my last post has some more interesting theories about it. After listening to this cylinder many times, it would seem that this cylinder might be the inevitable possibility that I spoke of yesterday. Of the many possible theories, this cylinder could be an exhibition souvenir, which would date it to 1898 exactly, and that would make sense considering the song the was recorded, and the musicians possibly involved. 

Here's the cylinder just to refresh:

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder5303

It's still very strange to me, as there's so many things that aren't right about this cylinder. The balance is really awful on it, the room sounds very strange and unusual for recording, and the announcer is very far away. Also, the fact that there isn't any identification of a company anywhere is also very weird. It really sounds like the setup seen in these two pictures: 

The setup is a little harder to see in the first picture, but it's the same as is in the latter. It's just very strange and amazing that any sort of exhibition-made cylinder would survive, but anything is possible. I have held records from this period in my hands that aren't supposed to exist, so if that just happens to be what this cylinder is, well, there ya go! 

The balance of the piano sounds like it is in the second picture just above, as it's not on the same side as it usually would be at Columbia. Usually, if you're in the perspective of the horn(s), the piano would be left, with it tilted at an angle similar to the picture just above, just reversed. The balance on this record sounds like it is just above, with the piano on the right and tilted the other way, also higher up off the ground. Hylands is at least four feet from the floor in the picture above, whereas in usual sessions, he would be at about three feet up. 

It must be noted that the announcer is at least six or seven feet away from the horns, which is very far away for an announcer, and that the piano is much louder than the announcement, which is very strange. 

I now have the feeling that Hylands might be at that piano, and the only reason is because of how pushy the rhythm is in that odd minor section(which is in none of the other 1890's recordings of this song...), and also by the overall rhythm, which is too good for it to be Fred Gaisberg. It has a sort of Hylands "feel" to it, even if it's the farthest thing from Rag-Time. 

The rhythm at the minor section of this is really where that "feel" comes through very well, and the sound of the piano is very "1890's", as pianos in studios after 1900 just didn't have that sound for some reason. This record has a very distinctly Columbia sound, and does not at all sound like an Edison cylinder to me. 
The slight fading at the end of the cylinder also makes me think it's a Columbia of some kind, as Tom Clark often did that fading thing at the end of his cornet solos with the Columbia orchestra in the late-1890's, such as on their 1898 takes of "Schubert's Serenade". Notice! The sound of the piano on the takes, it's similar to the mystery cylinder, though it's more so on the second one listed. 

Well, there's not much more I can say here, but I am still looking out for some guesses! This is really an interesting and strange recording, that maybe we will get to the bottom of it some day! 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Mentioning of Hylands by Jim Walsh, and a mystery cylinder

Well, from what I was sent this morning by Charlie Judkins, it would seem that Jim Walsh mentioned Hylands a few times. FINALLY! It's about time we see that he mentioned Hylands...

I wanted to use this picture in my last post, but anyway, here you go:

If you read the "whip" analogy I used in my last post about Hylands at Hylands Spencer and Yeager, this makes full sense. 

I just saw this when I thought about that. It's kind of awful, but it's funny. 

Since that picture just above is of Hylands, it fits the subject of this post to a high degree. 

It would seem that what Jack Stanley told me was true, Walsh did indeed know about Hylands being a pianist and publisher, but not much more, as there was nothing to be done in regards to Hylands when he was researching all these recording stars. As, by the 1960's, when he wrote these articles that mentioned him, most of Hylands' closest relatives were long gone. It was only his nieces and nephews who were still living by 1955 and 1962. His wife was long gone by then, and all those who worked with him were as well(they all died off in the 1930's and 1940's), Billy Murray was the last surviving recording star to have worked with Hylands in Columbia's studio. It's strange to think, but it's true. Walsh mentions Hylands in the context of his publishing firm ventures, as he was following the flow of The Phonoscope editions that mention him, probably just like this: 
(this is some of them in order)

(May, 1898)

(July, 1898 still makes me laugh...)

(also July 1898)

(this goes with that exhibition picture I use so often, which is from September 1898)

(Also September 1898)

(February 1899)

(March, 1899)

(Also March, 1899)

(May, 1900)

And so on, you get the point. Hylands was mentioned in many Phonoscope issues from 1898 to 1900, as he was a first-class character and eccentric at Columbia who rose his way up rather quick, just by becoming a publisher. He had more activity in The Phonoscope than many other famous recording stars did, just look through their issues, and you'll be surprised. 
Walsh noted all of the obvious sections, including all of the ones above, save for that one with the quote that we all know of. I guess it's because Hylands throwing out a narcissistic compliant means nothing to a researcher looking for information on other recording stars.
It's still unfortunate that Walsh didn't bother to dig deeper into Hylands to eventually do an article on him, but as I've said before, Walsh only cared about the singers and performers, not many accompanists made it into his articles, though Banta was mentioned often. Banta was a special case though, and we know why. 
I still wonder if it was a lack of information about Hylands or if it was that the surviving artists who were interviewed speaking of him in a not-so-easy way. It was probably a mix of both, since there weren't many resources out there to find him,  and he already spoke to the last surviving studio stars and workers who would have worked often with Hylands. It's really great to see Hylands mentioned in Walsh's articles anywhere, as it gives this whole Hylands thing much more credibility, as Walsh's writings are the go-to place for information about any of these recording artists. 






Now to change the subject slightly, just as I was writing the post, a very interesting record was sent to me. It's very mysterious, so some analyzing needs to be done to think it through. It's a very strange recording, with no company attached to it, and no performers either. Of course when a cylinder like this comes by, anything is possible! 

Before I dig into it, here's the record:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder5303
Very strange indeed. 
There's no information given, so it doesn't help, though from what I can hear, it sounds like an "off-label" Columbia, maybe a pirated one? Now if it's affiliated with Columbia in any way, the Cornetist is probably Tom Clark or David Dana. The Clarinetist is probably William Tuson more than anyone. I am not usually one who can tell tones apart in wind instruments, but that Clarinet playing is definitely Tuson. It sounds like the piano gives away some hints. 
That piano sounds a whole lot like Columbia's awful out-of-tune piano of 1897, of which you can hear examples here: 
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder5303
(do excuse the home recording, most of what needs to be heard is here.)

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder7959

http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder9969

As I have said, the cause for the awfully out-of-tune piano likely came from Len Spencer flipping the thing over in earlier 1897, as reported in The Phonoscope: 

Yep.(from the May, 1897 issue of you know what)
That^^ is why Columbia's piano sounded so damn awful for several months of 1897, thanks Len! 

One of the theories I have about this cylinder is that it was probably a pirated Columbia, or something along those lines, and that it was recorded in one of Columbia's recording rooms at 27th and Broadway. It sounds like it might be that room: 

But! Something about it makes me think it's the inevitable. Their exhibition hall! Seen below:

The room sounds very large and tall, more so than their upstairs room(in the orchestra picture). It be strange to think that this mysterious cylinder was recorded in their exhibition hall, but there's a possibility. I'm not saying that it's a cylinder souvenir from an exhibition(that would be amazing though!), but something's strangely familiar with the sound of that piano paired with that room. 
If more information was listed about it, then I could probably jump to pianist conclusions, but there's no way to do that here. The pianist has the power and heavy hands of Hylands when he played their awful piano early on in his term, but there's no reason it can't be Edward Issler either. Also, it must be noted that the announcer on Tom Clark's "Schubert's Serenade" is the same as on this mystery cylinder. 

**If you have any guesses as to what you think that cylinder is, make comments on this post! I'd love to read your guesses!**

Hope you enjoyed this! 

An Extraordinary picture that must be Spread!

My father sent me the most amazing picture, and I cannot at all believe that it exists. It is very similar to the Columbia exhibition picture:

Now what is it exactly? Well, here you go:

I was speechless. 

(I wonder who that is... It's pretty late as I'm writing this, so I'll save guesses for tomorrow)

I don't think much needs to be said about this picture. I must point out though that you can actually see much more than you think at first glance. You can pretty much see EVERYTHING in their exhibition hall. I mean it! The piano, the flags, the electric lights, the white rack,  the COLUMBIA PHONOGRAPH COMPANY printed in huge font at the top of the back wall, all the phonographs, the brass bars, some chairs, and even the stairs that go to the recording rooms upstairs! I cannot get over how amazing this is! From this picture, you can even tell where the photographer stood to take the exhibition picture! Just in case you can't really tell, that photographer stood to the right(according to the picture just above) more to the corner of the building. In this picture, the piano that Hylands was sitting at is facing slightly left, but the keyboard is facing toward the camera, unlike in the exhibition picture. 
One thing I just noticed, the stairs that are visible in the picture just above are actually visible in the exhibition picture! See it? I can't see the twig-like railing, but I can see the bottom of them. The pretty scaffolding that can be seen all over the ceilings of the exhibition picture is also slightly visible in the picture just above, with the electric lights seemingly growing out of the walls in even spacing. 
Hmm. After taking at least thirty individual looks at this picture just above, I seem to understand the setup for the exhibitions a lot more. Why? Well, imagine yourself where that single man is standing, and entering into that madness of the exhibition picture, what would you see across the street? The back of a fat piano man from afar, sitting at least five feet above the crowd, and a crowd of hundreds, of all people, men, women, children. You'd also be able to hear the cries of a leather-lunged speaker, hollering at the top of his lungs the words of how these great people on this platform will play for you all to-night, for the cost of merely fifteen cents. This building would be the brightest thing on Broadway for miles, and surely full of mirth and vigor. It's also the loudest thing for miles on Broadway, louder than all the street cars and braying horses. I wish they took a picture of the whole front of the building, so we could see those weird windows that we can see the back end of in this picture:

Now that this picture paints a clear image of the Columbia 27th and Broadway headquarters, we now have a very clear understanding as to what these elaborate and lavish exhibitions truly looked like. The rest is all yours to imagine. 

*share this amazing picture with your record friends! It needs to be spread around because of how historic it is! Columbia pictures are exceedingly rare to find anywhere! Also, it's not a studio picture either, it's showing the even more unusual sight of the exhibition hall.*

I hope you enjoyed this!