Showing posts with label Emerson Brothers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emerson Brothers. Show all posts

Monday, July 30, 2018

Digging for Emerson's and Draft Cards

Yesterday evening I spent several hours digging around on ancestry for any amount of new information on Georgie Emerson. Unfortunately i didn't find too much on Georgie specifically, though in the 1900 census his disposition is rather interesting. 
So in 1900, it seems that Georgie is living nowhere near brothers Victor and Clyde back at Columbia in New York. In 1900, Georgie was living alone in a boardinghouse in Denver, Colorado, but working as a phonograph agent. It seemed rather random to find him so far out west, but since was was still closely associated with Columbia in 1900, it would make some sense why he was doing work for them out west. The next source of information on him came from the New Jersey state census in 1905. In this source it is stated that he is living with his wife Helen, his two daughters, and his old mother Elvira. In this his occupation is listed as "phonograph". 
heh?
That's kind of funny. Just phonograph. No specifics. In 1900 he was listed as "clerk phonograph" which makes sense. 
After doing some more painstaking and frustrating digging, I found him in the 1910 census as well. Unfortunately it seems that by 1910 Georgie was on his own, and by that I mean that he wasn't working with the phonograph under the shadow of his successful brother Victor. in 1910 his occupation is listed as working with factory machinery. Well then! What a step in a different direction! 
Even with all this changing around with Georgie, I still assume him to be the one who rambled around and looked real rough. He looked like he had some hard times, even in that picture of him at the mere age of 22! In that picture of him above it almost looks like that left eye of his is black. Those poked in flushed cheeks are also not a positive sign... The more i look at that picture detail of Georgie the more I think that this picture is of him:
Yep. That really looks like the same worn young face in that picture detail. 
Even though we still don't really know anything about Georgie, the little bits and pieces we have regarding him are tantalizing. He looks just as troubled as Victor, if not more so, judging by the amount of extra detail we can see on that face in the small cameo portrait above. Georgie also looked just as slim as a broom-handle, similarly to Victor, but with Georgie it's ever more exaggerated by his tall stature and slim face. All those features scream drug addict to me, which wouldn't come as a surprise in this era. But aside from all this, I still have no idea how long he lived, though we have a birthdate of May 1876, which is nice to save for now. We know Victor lived until 1926, but that would mean nothing when attempting to find how long Georgie lived. 
Speaking of Victor, while on my dig for Georgie, I did come across Victor's passport application from 1922, and a picture came with it!
There they are, Victor and Kittie. 
And you thought brother Georgie looked rough!
Like most of these old phonograph freaks, Victor did not age well at all. You can even see bits of freckles all over his face, which always catches my attention. I'm pretty sure Victor had some kind of red in his hair, though it must have been darker red, as in no pictures of him does his hair look light and shiny. His brother Georgie was the one with the vibrant red hair, and it can well be seen in the two pictures of him we know of. 

All-right then!




Before looking around for Emerson's, I started last evening looking for more draft cards of familiar faces. Of course while doing this I had to make sure I looked up those who were born after 1872. That proved rather difficult! Most of the early recording stars we love were born in 1872 or before that, so it proved rather pressing to think up those who missed that cutoff. Eventually a few names came up and I did find a few curiosities along the way. Finding James Hager's draft card was a great source of happiness for me, so imagine my reaction upon finding brother Fred's!
He was just 2 years younger than the cutoff! 
That physical description is a bit unexpected, much like his brother James'. It's funny though that it's basically exactly the same as his brother's. 
Tall, stout, brown eyes, and graying brown hair.
Well then!
Certainly he had gone beyond his idealistic beauty by 1918. 
There's that pretty, distinct signature of his at the bottom! 
(from the LOC manuscript collection)
While digging for Fred Hager's I also found Justin Ring's, just keeping with the Hager pattern, as they worked together for an awfully long time. 
A little while ago I was able to find Justin in the 1880 census, and it stated that his parents were Prussian immigrants. Ain't that something! Prussian! Now I still have the suspicion that Ring could potentially be an important missing link in the area of the earliest studio pianists. If there was ever one of these guys who could have been a Zon-O-Phone pianist, Ring is it. Of course I would have nowhere to start really in attempting to extract his style from the other Zon-O-Phone pianists. Anyhow, here's his draft card:
I like that he never even attempted to write out his full name on most things, and even attempted to reason with whoever was taking down his name. His full name was Justus Ringleben; not quite your easily written American name at that time. 
Now that we know what he looked like, it's time to get drawing! What a lucky guy he was, with those bright blue eyes and blond hair, and supposedly those great piano skills that we have yet to dissect. 

Now here's something curious, it seems that Hager and Ring died at exactly the same age, 87. Hager died in 1958, and Ring in 1963(whew that's quite a lifespan!)

While on this dig, I also found Joe Belmont's draft card, which was rather unexpected. 

I couldn't have imagined Belmont with blue eyes and dark blond hair. Well then, I guess that's it for that, I'm all set for drawing Belmont if I need to in the near future. There he is. 



Before I end this post, I want to share one of the recent acquisitions of my record travels. 

This record is prized to me now. Ain't no one taking this from me anytime soon.

When I got the thing, I had no idea that Hager was the violinist, so imagine the heightened joy it brought me upon playing it when getting home after the quest. Immediately I knew that was Hager, no way could that have been the skilled and peerlessly slick Charles D'Almaine. I had listened to the few Hager violin solos buried out there on the internet, particularly finding his Columbia's the most attractive, as Fred Hylands must have been the pianist. This particular record is outstanding in that way, and comes through surprisingly clear for being a spotty record condition wise. 
Here's the transfer: 
It's such a lovely record. The sound of the piano paired with the echo of the recording room is just as charming as the violinist being matinee idol Fred Hager. This record combines the talents of my two absolute favorite early recording stars, and they pair together rather out-of-whack, which is to be half-expected, but it's what especially attracts me to it. Rarely do we get such nice crossovers like this. There are such a thing as crossover movies and Television shows, but this is what I would call a crossover record! It combines the two different worlds of the early recording business in such a graceful and unique way. All this is so while at the same time not being an outstanding record musically. Hager wasn't the best violinist, and Hylands wasn't the best pianist either, but when together these things cancel out. 


The next post should be more about recent record acquisitions, as I found too much on the Emerson's and similar recording stars yesterday to pass up a post on that. The Hager record find was really nothing less of a miracle. There's this junk shop/antique store I've been frequenting for the last few months, and one time I went there were albums and albums worth of 78s. They were sitting outside in the hot sun catching excessive amounts of heat, which worried me as I began thumbing through them. I just about screamed when I saw that Columbia. 
I thought "could it be? Hager? A Hager? No way in hell..."

It seemed too good to be true. But indeed, that's what it was. 
The story of these records I got at this one antique store is miraculous really, and it's one for the books. All the items i found were really the strangest coincidence. In the next post I'll get into detail about all that. 




Hope you enjoyed this!







Saturday, April 28, 2018

New Sheet music and more new transfers

It's about damn time. Hylands is on the left. 
This last Friday, I received a phenomenal piece of sheet music through the mail. When I first saw this piece on Ebay, I woke up the next morning after buying it thinking that all that was a dream. It seemed too good to be true, a piece of self published Hylands music with two pictures of him on the cover, it was too much at once. The piece was also relatively cheap considering my bad luck with Hylands sheets before then. This piece certainly makes up for losing his "Darkey Volunteer" and his "Uncle Sam" cake-walk. It's just as good. 
So you can all see the rest of the cover, here you go: 
What a salacious illustration!
It's also rather beautiful and gracefully drawn, whoever that cover artist is. The only reason I used that picture of the two of them is because it's a better picture of Hylands(and of course it's more aesthetically pleasing!). So after staring at the thing for a week an a half, I finally got to hold the music and get a great scan of those two Hylands pictures. This piece is from 1912, and it's hard, if not impossible, to trace in copyright records. I had seen this piece on the back of the cover of my early edition of his "Rag-Time boardinghouse", and never would have thought that I'd see the piece in its entirety. Of course the music aside, I got the piece because of the Hylands pictures and the exceeding rarity of the piece. Here's the other picture of Hylands in great detail:
Damn, he looks rough. 
Well, that's to be expected. Even with all of the wild things I've said about him, it seems that a lot of those assumptions were pretty true. He certainly looks like he had some rough times. You name it, drugs, alcohol, and fights. All of those things are clear in his rugged face at only 40. Not only that, his hair seems to have turned pretty light, if not rather white by then, which would point to my theory of his hair being vibrant red. Redheads unfortunately lose that beautiful shade rather early, with strands turning white often before age 35. Hylands just looks like a stereotypical redhead, you can almost see it in that detailed picture of him just above. 
Those eyes! 
What intensity and pleading! Even with the roughness and weirdness, those eyes are just haunting. Haunting in the best possible way of course. Now here's something interesting that I've noticed in both of the pictures; right near the dimple on his chin, there appears to be a scar of some kind. In both pictures a slash scar is visible. Hmm...That's so curious. That would be the sort of thing we'd all expect from Len Spencer, as he supposedly had that somewhere on his face. But thinking that Hylands had that is interesting, since I had the assumption that he was rather disliked for being rather pompous and egotistical(as taken from reviews of his Broadway shows and other newspaper bits), so I can see him slipping up at a gambling match before Columbia(or maybe during it for all we know!) and trying to smart his way out but failing miserably. Despite being freakishly tall and rather strong(assuming this is pre-1898), I'm sure someone would take him as bully bait and take a slash to his face. It would not be in nearly the same circumstances as Spencer's scar, as that would have been much more intense and dramatic, with a fistfight to get the razor to top it off. Imagine a shark just getting fed up with Hylands' wise chatter and losing it and quickly slashing his chin with a razor to shut him up. That's absolutely hilarious to imagine, it's a perfect cartoon template. 

Speaking of cartoons, now that I finally know what he looked like definitively, I must go back and edit the most detailed portraits of him that I've done, such as this one:
That's how it looks now, and it's painstakingly accurate now. 
It's strange that he had those dark sunken eyes that the Emerson's had. 
(there's Victor Emerson)
Hylands had the same kind of stare, and it's rather creepy to be honest.
Well, now that we see Hylands fully as he was, especially rough as he was later in life, his stare can now haunt us as we listen to records of his!

Speaking of that, it be time to analyze some of his records! Well, just as I've been doing for the last few posts, Santa Barbara keeps putting up new transfers, and each new one is outstanding. 
To begin, we have a new transfer of a George Schweinfest record.  
Oh he just looks so sweet!
Previously, Santa Barbara had a fast transfer of  "Bob White Polka" from c.1899-1900 up, but recently they put up a perfect transfer of a take from c.1902. It's absolutely lovely, with outstanding clarity, so here you go:
Toward the end Hylands plays some interesting quick notes that sound like Gottschalk's imitation of the piccolo! 
Of course, that's to be expected of Hylands, but it's nice to actually hear it in great clarity. Other than that, the record is pretty straightforward, it's one of those great Schweinfest solos which never fail to please. 

This next one is a long anticipated transfer, that has been sitting there on the website for a while. Like every time I check the website, I always check the Spencer records first. 
Of course at any opportunity possible I intend on using this picture of him. 
These next three transfers are just as good as Santa Barbara's old transfers, clear and crisp. 
This first one was scattered all over the internet years ago, but it was not the entire record transferred for some reason. Here's Spencer and Hylands' 1898 Columbia of "All Coons look Alike to Me":
It's hard luck that the record has that weird problem of losing the sound of the recording at the end of the first verse and for most of the chorus. This tune would be ideal in identifying pianist rag-time styles, as everyone recorded it on different labels, all with different pianists. This tune was also used in many early rag-time contests, such as the one that Mike Bernard won in 1900. The tune was the epitome of "rag time", and the "rag time life" as they would say in the late-90's. The "rag time life" being struck with free love and gambling and drugs, you know, the usual stereotype of new and rebellious music.From this take, we can hear Hylands' weirdness rather well, as it truly comes out at second chorus. He does all sorts of weird spiraling chromatic patterns that are hard to imitate since they are so strange. It's his classic Indiana rag style coming through. What he plays at the second chorus reminds me of a 1916 Indiana rag called "That Dizzy Rag"(take a listen! It's weird! The entire rag is full of stuff we often hear Hylands play). Anyway, this record is a classic great example of Hylands and Spencer collaborations, this time with one of the most recognizable coon songs of the era. 

This next Spencer and Hylands record is from a little bit later, but it's mislabeled on the website. 
This one has a transfer of the popular coon song "I ain't a-goin to weep no more", which is really nice, since Hylands plays all sorts of nice and weird stuff. It's transferred a bit fast, but we can still hear the lovely rag-time. On this take, it seems Hylands' style is constantly going and is rollicking, which is tantalizing. Again, there's not too much to explain here, as the rag-time explains all that needs to be said, and the way Spencer sings it is very different from all the other takes I've heard of it. Spencer often went his own way when singing popular songs. It's nice to have cross reference from other takes by different singers. Of course like many of these records, Spencer adds in a little sketch. Those little sketches vary in lecherousness, depending on the specific subject matter of the coon song. Keep in mind that he only does those on his coon song records, most often when with Hylands, though he did do them later long after his falling out(or whatever happened) with Hylands. 

I still think his sketch about "his gal" rubbernecking and talking all about polyamory is real risque. 

This is one of many reasons why Spencer is fascinating, his sketches before Ada Jones were much more like the nature that we'd expect from Spencer. 

Anyway, this last Spencer record is actually him with Vess Ossman.
(such a cute face!)
Spencer and Ossman never fail to please, as their musical chemistry was unequalled. Ossman brought a distinct self-taught style to Spencer's singing that seemed to fit perfectly. Ossman's ego seemed to piece together well with Spencer's control freak personality, since they weren't really that different. Also, Spencer had known Ossman since probably as early as 1892 if not earlier, which would mean he had experience with Ossman's troubles and issues in the studio. As some of us know, Ossman was difficult to work with in the studio. He was impatient with takes and tuning his banjo, as well as keeping it tuned as takes went along. He also had a short temper, that was notorious for being triggered in the studio when he was accompanying singers. Luckily, with Spencer, it would seem their high strung personalities cancelled out and made for outstanding records, such as this one. 
Here you go with their 1897 record of "I can't Give Up My Rough and Row'dish ways":
It seems that this song is a perfect anthem for Spencer's nature. No matter what he did and wherever he went, he was inevitably rough and willing to start a fight. It's also a good song too, with Ossman adding all sorts of nice rather jarring syncopation for a rather early example. I would put the date of this record to around the middle of 1897, such as March-June of that year, since it's most certainly in that transition period. Spencer also sounds slightly like his older self from the Issler era, but not quite like how he did when with Hylands around the same time and in the years succeeding. This record is truly a great example of Spencer in general, as he sings very nicely on pitch, and stays perfectly on beat with Ossman, both of which aren't always true, particularly with Spencer from 1892 to 1897. It's a real treat to hear Spencer just before he worked every day with Hylands and just after he had left his pledged position as Issler's assistant. Hearing him in that gray area is always important in piecing together late-1890's Columbia. 



Anyway, that Hylands sheet is still unbelievable to own, and is an absolute pleasure to own and be able to get nice scans of it. 


Hope you enjoyed this!




Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Saturdays at Berliner and Little Swirls

Within the past few days, I've noticed some curious things. After doing some digging through Berliners, it is becoming more apparent that this label was the most accomodating for its artists. Despite rusty old Berliner himself presiding over the studio often, the days without Gaisberg were basically a mess. Gaisberg left the U.S. toward the end of 1898, and he rarely returned to the old studio, doing so perhaps twice a year at most after then. 
Amid the Berliner studies I've done recently, the specific Berliners that are of the most focus are the Berliners that Spencer made. As most of us know, Spencer joined the Berliner team rather late, as that was the first time Spencer associated with a non-Columbia affiliated Company. Most of his fellows joined with Berliner at the very beginning, that being around 1894 and 1895. Spencer was too busy running errands for the Emerson's and two timing with Columbia and U.S. to join when everyone else did. he didn't get on the Berliner boat until 1899, which is right near the end of their official existence. Hist first Berliner session was April 15, 1899. You can see what he recorded in the link below:
This was a pretty nice session, as I have heard one of the records he made that day. The first one was a nice one to start off with. 
Okay, yes he may have had his first session there Mid-April 1899, but he was there with the others of the Columbia staff the previous year, as that's what this picture documented: 
They all took a visit to the Berliner studio, and luckily we have hard evidence that Spencer was there, even if he did not record for them at the time, and didn't actually do so until a year later. 
Now here's the thing about Spencer's Berliner's that are interesting. The bulk of his Berliner records were made on Saturdays in April of 1899. It's strange to notice this odd pattern, and luckily with Berliner, all of the ledgers are left so we can observe this. A few of them were made on Fridays, and after April, but in general, he wasn't there too often. He made just enough Berliners to be considered a regular for at least a month. 

But why Saturdays?
And why April?

Well, the first question leads us into the theory world. One theory I discussed with a friend is that the Berliner staff was very slim on Saturday evenings and at knowing this, Spencer took advantage of this to come in and make bunches of records with his faithful accompanist Fred Hylands. The reason this was hypothecized is because of how strange and out of whack his Berliners are, they're quite different from his Columbia records recorded around the same time(if not some of the same days). They're much less tame than the Columbia's. That's saying quite a lot in terms of Spencer and Hylands. Those Berliner's are rather wild, and are strange in balancing. The balancing usually varies record to record, which is also unusual. Many Berliner records are strange in these same aspects, but the Spencer Berliners are especially interesting. Here's why:

His singing is not particularly the best on these...
The piano playing is all over the place.
Spencer doesn't seem to do the usual moving back and forth to balance the tones of voice. 
The piano playing is very pushy and sometimes out of sync with Spencer. 
Spencer dramatically changes his tone of voice through the course of one of them I've heard. 

All of these factors make the theory of slim staff plausible. These records may actually be the best examples of how Spencer and Hylands sounded when they were pretty out of it. Spencer was already not the best singer on the earliest records, but on these Berliners, his limited skill shines through like chimes on brown wax. The accompaniment is almost certainly Hylands, because of specific characteristics of blending with Spencer, though the style is a little misleading on a few of them, since it's Hylands at his weirdest. I've heard quite a few questionable Columbia's of theirs, but all the Berliners are far beyond those. 
Imagine it, the two of them(remember that they were publishing partners at this time) stumbling into Berliner's back door(in the picture above) after recording most of the day at Columbia. They greet Mr. Berliner, or whoever was there at that time, already a little tipsy from work earlier in the day, ready as ever to record a handful of hot coon songs. 

It's interesting that most of what Spencer recorded on those Saturdays at Berliner were coon songs, there was very little room for anything else. That further points to the pianist on those being Hylands. Even though it rarely happened, to a certain extent, many of these artists had to cater to the accompanist, even though they were basically just slaves to the performers and record consumers. When Hylands was still relatively new at Columbia in 1898, we hear a whole lot of records where he's practically featured behind one of the singers. Artists with so much adoration for Hylands, like Spencer, would have catered to Hylands' distinct style as well, Spencer's Berliners being the perfect example of this taken to a different level than his Columbias from the same time.  To add to the catering point, there are plenty of examples of this happening with Banta, such as on Denny's 1901 Edison of "Go Way Back and Sit Down". 
It would seem incomplete if I just spoke about all of these records and not have any of them here to listen to. 
I'm just going to list a bunch of them here:
"Hello Ma Baby"
(notice how pushy the piano playing progresses to by the end of the record)
"Whistling Rufus"
"You'll get all that's-a-coming to you"
(one of those other voices has to be Hylands) 
"You don't stop the World from Going 'Round"
These are all coon songs. All of the others I've heard are also coon songs. 
There are others, but I can't share all of them, and haven't heard all of them. That's a goal though at this point, hearing all of his Berliners(that were issued). Since he didn't make that many, it's possible to hear them all. The overall quality of the music varies so much from record to record that hearing all of them would be fascinating. 

One more thing to note, while speaking with a friend about the Spencer Berliners, it also was brought up how much inspiration Spencer took from George W. Johnson. Not at all had this crossed my mind before this conversation. It makes so much sense. What's good about Spencer is that we can often tell exactly who he's imitating on certain records. Throughout listening to him, I've been able to catch Ben Harney, May Irwin, and DeWolf Hopper. The distinct way that Spencer whistled(that you can hear on the record of "Whistling Rufus" above) is very similar to how Johnson whistled on his records. It's interesting to hear Spencer's inspiration, directly on the same record labels around the same time. Not too often do we get to hear the performers' inspiration in the brown wax era. At this point it makes more sense why Spencer really started performing early "coon songs" around 1894. Before then, most of his records consisted of popular, comic, and sacred songs. It wasn't really until he joined forces with Quinn and Johnson that he really started performing coon songs as we know them. Also, keep in mind that the era of the coon song began around this time as well. By 1895, Spencer was known as the premier "Ethiopian delineator" on records. It's curious to see such as close friend of his and fellow recording star being partially the source of his inspiration. 




Now onto something rather different...
Digging through that 1888-1893 book of handwritten ledgers has been a recent obsession. While searching around in that book for the first George W. Johnson recording dates, I was bound to get stuck in something else amid the pages. That's exactly what happened...I noticed a few curious things throughout the pages, and it has to do with the handwriting on them. 

From session to session, the handwriting on the pages seems to vary here and there, depending on who's actually in the studio that day. What I noticed going through those ledgers is that the handwriting is specific to who's in the studio, which can indicates a few things. Most of the time this would point to a certain person's handwriting being all over the place in the book, after a certain point in time. After flipping through months of seeing that mysterious Henry Geisemann(it was spelled a few different ways throughout) as solo pianist and accompanist, by August 1889 we see Issler mentioned almost every day consecutively. 
These pages are fascinating, and the handwriting on many of them, while it varies in quality, is always the same person on each page that Issler is mentioned. 
The neatness of the handwriting varies from page to page. Here are a few various ways that Issler was signed in the ledgers:
What a cast of writing!
These were all written by the same person, but who that is exactly is what I'm wondering here. The writing is all over this book of ledgers, and since Issler was often running the studio when he was there, it wouldn't surprise me if that just happens to be his writing. One thing I noticed about this writing, is that it has that lefty look to it, much like George Gaskin's or Len Spencer's. It may depend on the way that he had to write the information, say at an awkward angle, but the smudges are often suspect. Issler was certainly one I would put as possibly a lefty. He was brilliant enough, and enough of a maverick to be put in this very special category. It's somewhat funny how much the handwriting varies from page to page, sometimes being very neat and well drawn, but other times looking a complete mess that's nearly indecipherable. 

Oh the days of the rounds, it seems even the handwriting in the ledgers shows the wear and tiredness. 

So now that there's the possibility of Issler being a lefty, it seems he joins the group that Spencer fit into. We know Spencer was a lefty naturally, and later at heart. Spencer's known signing of other people's names also becomes evident when seeing the names of George W. Johnson and Ada Jones looking in that weirdly slanted kind of out of whack style. Considering Spencer's status, it's likely he wrote with his right hand much more often, but when signing for others, he switched around. Also, it's interesting to note the similarities that lie in the names that were written on Hylands Spencer and Yeager music to that slogan on their logo:
Forget that I ever said all of that extra weird writing on the logo was Hylands. That was all Spencer it turns out. All of those beautiful little wind-like swirls and the little flying heart(or whatever that is) is all Spencer's hand. 
There are those little swirlies!
Well there ya go. That solves the mystery of who was responsible for that funky slogan as well as the little pen sketches that we know so well on Hylands music. Spencer was weird, as we already know, and seeing those little pen sketches in greater context puts that into perspective. This is really making me hope that he did more pen sketches...
Thinking of how adventurous he was, that wouldn't surprise me. 

Anyhow, those little swirlies are just lovely. 




Hope you enjoyed this!


Thursday, January 18, 2018

A Mysterious Photographer

Not often do I speak historically of photography, but sometimes knowing something about period photography helps in understanding some of the mess I'm digging through. Recently, I was getting a few Ossman pictures together for a cartoon idea, but then I realized something about one of the pictures I was using. 
I opened this picture for the first time in a while, and noticed that it was not taken at the Edison studio in c.1898. I cropped this larger version of this crappy image from this:
Edison? What?
Nope. 
Okay, so the first thing that caught my eye and made me realize that this was not taken at Edison was that wallpaper. I've seen that wallpaper quite a few times in Columbia studio pictures. Just so you can all visually see that this wallpaper is most certainly Columbia's is through this picture here:
We know for certain that this group of musicians is the Columbia orchestra. Thanks to The Phonoscope, we can be assured that these are familiar musicians that we've seen before, such as the clarinetist and the piccolo player. Those two recognizable musicians are William Tuson and George Schweinfest, with any one of the cornet players probably being Tom Clark. The picture above is certainly Columbia's studio, as not only do we see familiar Columbia musicians, but we also see those distinct windows that were on that immense building that Columbia occupied in the late-1890's. You can't see those windows in that picture of the studio in 1898:
Unfortunately the picture was taken just so that you can't see those windows, but everything inside is the same as usual. You can see them here though:
There's those windows!
So anyway, now that we've got that sorted out, let's get back to that Ossman picture. 
We can now see that it was taken at the same place as this picture, according to the familiar wallpaper sheathing the background of every early Columbia picture:
there's that same wallpaper!
So with all of this evidence of Columbia being the location of that crude Ossman picture, what of it?
Well, it's not Edison as the note below it states. So, since I've gathered all of these early Columbia pictures from around the same time, this had led me to question something. 
What's with all these crude pictures?
It can seem curious to look through all these Columbia pictures and find a pattern. What I've noticed about these Columbia pictures is that they are nothing like the well composed Edison pictures from around the same time, and a little earlier. Even the earliest Columbia pictures have a period composition that were taken by a skilled photographer. The strange composition of these Columbia photographs is not typical to what I've seen in general from the time period. They're out of whack and uniquely composed. 

I mean, it would be hard to look at that Ossman studio picture and not see that it's weird. Just like the 1898 exhibition picture, it's clear someone was experimenting. Also, after doing some more digging through my studio pictures, I realized that the one picture of Estella Mann making records was also taken at Columbia...
That same wallpaper!
The composition of these photos is very strange, and I hope that you see why. Not often do we see in an 1890's photograph a picture like the Ossman one, likely taken down the hallway from the main recording room, leaving the door open and taking up half of the photo's composition. Being in an advanced placement art class, my teacher would give that image a funny look, since often photographers are advised to compose the image with balance, but that Ossman picture has not that at all. Even with my inner artiste talking, I love these strange Columbia photographs. They're especially unique, not just from the technical standpoint of noticing the same wallpaper, but also from the artistic standpoint of the weird composition. With all of Columbia's rotten corporate rules and atmosphere, they still had the most down-to-earth bunch of leaders on their recording staff. Another thing to keep in mind with these Columbia pictures is that they were all taken around the same time, within a two year time frame(or so). The time I mean here would be from 1897-1898. Even though I have not used the exhibition picture as an example, that picture also is included in this study. It be about time to use it again anyway:
This image is composed similarly strange to the other ones. 
Really look at it. 
This image was likely taken at that rounded corner that we can see in the picture of the outside of the place in 1898. Since we can see all of this, here's the real question...
Who was taking all these pictures?
Of course since there's no "Columbia Archive" anywhere, we can't definitively see who took thee pictures, but we can have some good guesses. We know many of these Columbia recording stars were experimenting through their long recording careers, but the one specific guess I have would be Len Spencer. We know that in 1895-96, both Spencer's along with Steve Porter and Russell Hunting tried entering in the new film business. After that endeavor collapsed, Harry Spencer was left with all the equipment and connections they made, the remnants of this you can see in the earliest edition of The Phonoscope. Considering Spencer's relentless experimentation, it would be too surprising if he was part of the reason for those strange Columbia pictures. Since he did have an "artsy" side(being that he was naturally a lefty) he must have had an apt viewpoint when it came to taking photographs. Another reason I think it may be Spencer is because of who is missing in the exhibition photograph. We see Harry Spencer clearly identified, but no Len in sight. I'm not saying that I would always assumed the Spencer brothers to be together, but since the image above is of an exhibition, it would be very likely that Len was elsewhere in that chaotic scene. By elsewhere, I mean "experimenting" with a camera he had. When considering Spencer's nature to experiment, it wouldn't be surprising if he was responsible for that exhibition picture, or the strangely composed Ossman one from around 1897 or so. 
Let me reiterate that picture again, just so we can all see it again:
That's the stranger portion, where we're peeking into the recording room at Ossman while he makes records. It's a clever photograph really, even with the almost too wide door. 
The other seemingly random half of the picture here is this also interesting character:
Who's that?
When looking over this image once more, I almost immediately recognized that guy. He's got to be an Emerson brother. But which one exactly is the question...
Well, as I went to dig through all the pictures of those three brothers, I assumed first that it was the most obvious guess, Victor. We all know about Victor, with those intense eyes and red hair, with a stare that'll knock anyone cold(and not in a good way!). 
There he is...You can just see the evil in his eyes...
After looking at pictures of the three Emerson brothers, I saw that this figure was not Victor, but it was George. 
The handsomest of the Emerson boys, also the youngest. 
You can see that this mysterious engineer in the artsy Columbia picture is George for a few reasons. 
One...That's exactly the same mouth and lip structure.
Two...those distinct ears, that were slightly different from Victor's more pointy ones. 
Three...That curly, wavy hair. All three(there were four mind you) of the Emerson boys had this hair type, but it seems that George got the most prominent variation on this theme, and you can see it in the artsy picture, as can be observed in the picture directly above.

Another observation...if that's George Emerson in the Ossman picture(of whatever it is...), he looks older than his age. Lets say that picture was taken in 1898, so with that, Emerson would have been 22. He looks older than a young chap of 22. Thanks to The Phonoscope we know that he was the sporty one of the brothers. He got himself into tangles with wandering women, and it looks like he was a drinker as well, similar to Victor in a certain aspect. 


Anyway, it seems I've exhausted this topic for now, hopefully I can sometime see the originals of these images and get a much better scan of them, wherever they're kept hidden...



Hope you enjoyed this!