Showing posts with label Harry Yeager. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harry Yeager. Show all posts

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Columbia's Jack of All Trades--Len Spencer

Well, it seems to be about the time to do a post on Len Spencer once more, especially since it's his 150th birthday! It would be hard to speak about the early recording business in general means without at least mentioning Len Spencer. You can't talk about the history of Columbia without mentioning Spencer, so he must be important. 

Talking about Spencer never gets old, since there's so much that goes into anything about him, and his personality seemed to never be dull. He was just like one of those supposed 800 electric lights that Columbia set up at their headquarters at 1155 Broadway, so bright and seemingly everlasting. 
Of course, there's not really a great account out there that best describes Spencer's character, but from the little bits we get here and there in The Phonoscope and in Theatrical magazines, we can piece together a fantastic personality. We could just begin with the way Spencer looked, since he was someone who couldn't be missed at Columbia, or anywhere for that matter. He was likely one of the tallest members of Columbia's staff, at about 6 foot 4, he made any recording session an adventure in balancing an setup. Also, how could you forget that crazy hair! His hair always seemed to look different, no matter what day it was, or what was in fashion(notice that his hair looked different in every photograph of him). Most often, he had to straighten his hair with irons it seemed, because oddly enough, his hair naturally appeared similar to that "Dandy Sandy" character he portrayed on all those recordings. By that, it is meant that his hair was a kinky, curly mess when it wasn't cared for. In burnt cork, you would barely notice if he was white, being that his bright green eyes only gave that away. Even most who came to the exhibitions were shocked to see that Spencer was white, thinking before that he was most certainly a black man, since his records were so convincing to most listeners. 

We know very well that he began working at Columbia by chance in 1888, when his father, Henry Caleb Spencer Sr., bought a phonograph to use as an office dictation device, and almost as soon as it was acquired, young teacher Len caught wind of it. Recall that Len was a teacher at this time(still don't know what he was teaching...), and comfortably married with a baby girl at home, so he seemed like any normal 21-year-old in the late-1880's. Of course, playing around with this new recording device completely dissolved his previous career, unknowingly it did this. Once he began frequently experimenting with the thing, he began going back and forth to the newly established Columbia headquarters, to further dig into what this new contraption held. By 1889, the Columbia staff hired him finally, out of his boiling curiosity and desire to work for them. He had to do everything himself though, set up the machines, play the piano accompaniment, state the announcements, and of course sing for the machines, all at once. During these earliest days at Columbia, Spencer oddly enough used the pseudonym of "Gary Allen", and he used this name until about 1893, why? I don't know. There had to have been a reason for it. Something certainly Columbia related. I've only had the chance to hear a snippet of one of these few surviving records of Spencer's. While doing that, Spencer also worked as Edward Issler's "roadie" of a sort, which meant that he went to Issler performances outside of the studio(having to do with record companies), as well as being Issler's sound man in the studios. Issler's orchestra records are the oldest examples of Spencer we have so far, even if they are just announcements and sound effects, they are still important recordings, and not just for Issler. 

By 1896, Spencer was recording not for Columbia, but the U. S. Phonograph company. Recall that this company was essentially the test run for Columbia's setup in management in the later part of the decade. I'm only saying this because Victor Emerson ran the company for the entirety of its existence. Spencer also happened to remain there for that long as well, working there for the most part in the mid-1890's. Spencer's pianist in the studio for everyday work was Issler so nothing was changed from before. It was all business as usual for Len, other than getting himself in a tangle with the film business in 1895-96. What was this? Well, we can thank Russell Hunting and Steve Porter for this scramble, since they were the ones who decided to start a small film company in that period. This somehow pulled in Spencer, and when I say Spencer, I mean both of them. Though Henry(Harry) was the one who ended up with all of the film equipment, Len was also involved in this endeavor, and it was inevitable that he would be, since his natural curiosity pulled him in, and it was Hunting's idea after all. After that passed over, it left Len ever-curious about film and photography, and this never seemed to leave him for the rest of his life. In 1897, Len was forced out of the U. S. Company, jut as everyone else was, since the company was crumbling quick. With that gone, Len was fully engaged with Columbia, soon signing a contract to ensure this until after 1900. Around the same time as becoming Columbia's main baritone and everything man, a new unusual face entered in Columbia's studio, and this was not just a new manager or singer. 
That new face was this one:
Fred Hylands. 
Spencer had likely heard around of the management searching around for a "Rag-Time" pianist, and once they found him, Spencer probably was very interested in who this might be. Soon Spencer was in for a surprise, he was different from the previous Columbia pianists, a fantastic Rag pianist, and a genuine one too, fresh out of Chicago's clubs. Spencer quickly got to know this strange young Indiana chap, and was wanting to know more of him. Whether he liked it or not, Spencer saw Hylands every day at Columbia, on his good days, and bad ones. Spencer had been used to working with the agreeable and industrious Issler, so seeing him leave Columbia by the end of 1897 was a little awkward for him, he now was only to be stuck with this still slightly strange "rag" pianist. Once 1898 came along, Issler was gone, and Columbia was fully settled in their New York office, so was Spencer. This year was a very productive one for Spencer's repertoire, as all of these fantastic Rag-Time songs were published, and that meant that Spencer had to try and grasp all of them, but that also meant a lot more time with Hylands in the studio. His records with Spencer are(sorry for saying this for the hundredth time...)  among the best examples of Rag-Time out there, and his 1898 Columbia recordings are some of the better ones in fact. 

It seems that Spencer and Hylands had a complicated friendship, more so that many would think by just hearing their records. There are layers to this. The first thing to note and consider with Spencer and Hylands is the fact that Spencer was essentially the vocalist equivalent to Hylands, and Hylands was the pianist equivalent to Spencer as a vocalist. Their abilities and tendencies with Rag-Time and music in general were the same, and this is why they worked so well together, it's also why their records are so much fun to listen to. They also had their differences... Spencer was serious about his work, and therefore very industrious in this matter, but Fred was not like that by any means. Fred(at least by the middle of 1898, remember that he was heavier at this point in time) had grown weary of Columbia to some extent, and like none of the pianists preceding him he grew tired and moody with later takes and later recordings in the days. 
I would always like to imagine one of these conversations as thus:

"What's wrong with you Fred? We've still got a few more songs to go at."

"Aww Len...don't make me do it. Ah'm all worn out. Ah'm drenched with sweat all over, no fan could help me here. Ya might as well go one home."

"Quit that Fred, and play! We've got to get to our finish Freddy."

Something like that. If you haven't already guessed, I really like to write dialogue between Spencer and Hylands. Their banter between takes must have been just as good as the material on the records. As we know, Spencer's relationship with Hylands didn't stop there, as we well know of the whole publishing venture of the next year. It seems that the publishing firm was started because the two of them thought they were a good enough duo in the studio to where they thought the business aspect of music could agree with them. Of course, we don't really know which one of the trio(Hylands, Spencer, and Yeager) dropped the idea in the first place, but it's likely that Hylands did, since he must have been flustered over the last failure with Roger Harding and Steve Porter("The Knickerbockers"), he was more than happy to sign the next year and a half of his life to Spencer and Harry Yeager. Recall that Harry Yeager was Spencer's booking agent, for that minstrel troupe that he forced to travel around in horrible weather...yep, that one. Harry was likely pulled into the partnership by Hylands, who needed as much stability as he could get with this firm, so Yeager helped to provided for some of this. Spencer created that beautiful footer:
(from my collection)
And it made their pieces of music attractive to a degree that not many other publishers had at that time. At the beginning of the firm, Spencer was the sole reason that they were publishing music, because of "You Don't Stop the World From Goin Round", which was essentially their biggest hit, as Hylands had long assumed, as did other publishers. As much as Spencer ran the firm, he wasn't the sole leader, since he had recording to get to every day, and so did the man who owned the firm(Hylands). While bound together under the firm, Hylands and Spencer still went to the studio to fulfill their duties in recording. It was during this period of the publishing firm that we get some of their best recordings, and also when we see the most of Hylands in the studio, behind every one of those singers, and in the studio orchestra always. Spencer also took to having Hylands as his stage accompanist, which meant that he would go on the tours that his minstrel troupe went on in 1899-1900. He was playing piano most of the time, though sometimes playing bones(!) and running sound effects to some extent.  Here's a more detailed description of one of these performances:
Who's Harry Cooke?  
(it might mean that we found another Columbia Rag pianist... here we go again...)

Anyway, back to Spencer... These tours took place at the end of 1898, 1899, and in May 1900(thank you Phonoscope!), and they were for promoting much of Columbia's records, the Imperial minstrels series, as well as Hylands Spencer and Yeager music, which by late-1899, was relatively popular, with agents in Toronto and in London. With all of that in place, it seemed that the firm was actually going to last, and benefit Columbia more than Emerson or Easton ever could have thought. By early 1900, the firm was at its height, though Spencer couldn't actually contribute to Hylands' cause nearly as much at that point. A little bitter, Hylands probably acted as such around him for this short period of time(of course until the performances they did in May of that year, such as the one in the image above), when Hylands supposedly got a crap ton of music sales after that tour(don't know if that's true...), of course he could forget his bitter taste with Spencer. That didn't last long though, by the middle of the year(summer more or less), Hylands rarely saw Spencer outside the studio, and then the bitterness came back. Of course in the studio they were almost every day making records still, that couldn't be avoided, and unfortunately for Spencer, Fred's bitterness was just the same. Spencer was getting in all his engagements with Harry Yeager, some with Hylands, some not, but this angered Fred, since it meant he was essentially all alone with the whole publishing thing, everyone else by this time was disbanding, as it was also this time that the old "Columbia Clan" was beginning to break up. By Fall, Spencer didn't seem to bother with Fred's publishing any more, as his new engagements with Victor and Berliner were becoming more important, and his contract with Columbia was soon to wear off. By October and November, Fred had sent out a scathing letter to everyone involved, and published one in The Music Trade Review around this time as well. Of course, Spencer was not happy about this, likely being indifferent with Fred, but at the same time avoiding as much conversation as before the whole thing. We can well assume Fred to be a moody chap, using the scathing letter in The Music Trade Review as an example. 

Despite this, Spencer slowly drifted away from solely doing recording work, and became more a a businessman in dealing vaudeville than a performer. We know that in 1903, Spencer was the manager of the Crystal Theater on Union Square, which was actually a very prestigious theater at the time, and it came as a surprise when I found this. Of course, we only know this because of theatrical magazines at the time, but mainly because of that hilariously ridiculous fight he got into with one of his performers. 

Yep, that one. 
Again, seems typical of Spencer. Recall that he had a scar on his face from getting into a knife fight as a youth. Sums up a lot about him. Wouldn't be surprising if Spencer got into fights with Hylands, or anyone like that for that matter. It is likely that the Crystal Theater did not keep him there after this incident, and with that he went off to start his own theater, or Lyceum as it was called. Here he employed some old friends from the recording business, including George W. Johnson as we well know. Johnson was his doorman, all dressed up to greet people who had no idea who he was. Spencer also employed some of his performer friends, like Hylands(this can be confirmed now), and also someone like Vess Ossman was also probably a performer at Spencer's Lyceum. 
During the period of 1905-1910, Spencer made records for Edison, Columbia, Indestructible, Victor, Zon-O-phone, Leeds, and pretty much every other disc label at the time. Some of his records made during this time are throwbacks to what he did ten years before, such as this one with Steve Porter from 1909. It's the same Spencer as ten years before, and oddly enough, Hylands was doing pretty much the same thing in 1909, expect that he was making records anymore. Spencer made many records with Ada Jones in this timeframe, and they were made for all the companies he worked for, which was every one of them that existed at the time. 



I don't need to get into detail about the last years of his life and how he died, because I've done that many times on this blog already, and I hate for this to seem too repetitive. So we'll just skip to the music and records! 

Since it is Spencer's birthday, here are some of my favourite records of his(that I've heard so far, because there are so many!)


 Spencer's hilarious "Having Fun with the Orchestra" with Banta and the Metropolitan orchestra


Two takes of his "My Gal is a High-Born Lady":
and

Two fantastic takes of "I Don't Care if you Never Comes Back":
and 






There are so many more I could share, but these are the ones I could immediately consider favourites. The thing about Spencer is that there's such a strange variety of selections to choose from. 




Hope you enjoyed this! Starting to get ready for the Santa Cruz Rag-Time festival in two weeks! 















Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Revised: Character Studies--Fred Hylands(1872-1913)

After learning a whole lot more about Hylands, it seems fit to essentially re-post the Character Studies post on him. Just like anything I post on Hylands, it's often to aid the kind descendants of him, and to make sure that all collectors are aware of his presence on early Columbia records. 

The amount of information that has been collected on Hylands since this time last year has been phenomenal, and it all makes his life not only more interesting, but a whole lot more complicated. Just a few small facts and observations made by Charlie Judkins and I changed much of what we thought of Hylands, and came as a surprise. If I ever get the chance to give my seminar on Hylands once more(which I hope to!), it will be even more complete than when I gave it for the first time last November! Yes, there are still gaps that perhaps we will never fill, but those gaps at least have been filled to some extent in the last few months. Well, we've still got a long way to tread with the whole Hylands thing, but that is exactly why it remains ever interesting to search.
 There's not a way I could have expected that that unknown, obscure name "Frederic Hylands" written in the pages of The Phonoscope would become such a monumental and long-term project. But no matter, it's still a joy to dig, and eventually I'll find that unmarked grave in New York and at last get it marked if needed. 


Hylands in 1897,


and in 1898.

Here we go...

Hylands was a beaming star amid Columbia's night sky of glowing white stars, with a personality and figure that always consumed a room he entered. Sometimes this was intentional, other times not, but more often than not it was wanted by him. This desire, or demand, for attention is rooted in his past, like most things are with people. Being the older child, and a boy, it seemed inevitable for him to be treated better of the two children, the other being his sister Etta. He was born at about the last week of February(remember that we're not really certain of this just yet), and that would make him older than most of the early Rag-Time pianists, including Ben Harney oddly enough. It didn't take long for his parents, Charles and Mary, to take to the talent and genius of their son, as well as to realize that Fred was not going to be a respectable locomotive engineer like his father. By age 7, Fred was beginning to show interest in playing the fiddle, and with that curiosity took a liking to the banjo on the sly, since that wasn't exactly the most classical of instruments for earning a living. After messing with the fiddle, and becoming rather proficient with it, he began at the piano, playing whatever it was he played early on. Soon he was traveling all around Indiana and Ohio as a child prodigy, hence his sense of importance and need for attention later on. By 1886 and 1887, he was a local celebrity around Fort Wayne, being mentioned in the papers pretty much almost every week, with some new antics and gossip. In 1887 was not only when his father opened a grocery/saloon, but it was also when he went to the local business college(at 15 mind you!). He got into all sorts of trouble in and around Fort Wayne, from cable car bouts to driving a wagon and almost getting killed by a suddenly terrified horse(much like the whole Spencer cable car incident). All of this built his character, and providing entertainment at his father's saloon did so as well. He continued this interesting and well-known life until 1893 when the family moved out to Chicago, in overwhelming interest in the World's Fair. Unfortunately, Mary Whitney Hylands died not long after the move, leaving Charles with Fred and Etta. Etta married off the month after her mother died, with Fred and Charles the only ones at home then. Fred as working out a local outposts for Keith's and Pastor's theaters, playing accompaniments, and managing shows there, but also playing at less-then respectable places that Chicago was infamously ridden with. Places where syphilis and violence ruled the essence. This is where the final touches were set on his playing style, as by this time he had fully settled with playing the piano. His style was finalized when out in Chicago, as all of these other famous "rag" pianists were playing at the same clubs and venues as he, and without a doubt he took from them, despite already possessing a style that was the zenith of Rag-Time's early days(like Ben Harney's). In September 1895, he conveniently married British singer/actress Maria Stevens, possibly due to pressure set on them by both of their parents. Not long afterward, Charles, Fred and Marie moved out to Milwaukee for a short period, most likely because Fred had been asked to work for one of the theater chains at which he was employed to manage. By mid-1896, Fred and crew were finally out in New York. Fred immediately resumed working at the theaters he was already empolyed, only this time it was where the original managers and theaters were, not the chains. Fred earned a reputation in New York, though at first he was seen as a hapless Indiana rube of a sort(not entirely...) to the society Rag pianists such as Max Hoffmann and Burt Green. He was no rube, in fact his smarts were far higher than most thought at the beginning, but this didn't always prove him well. By very early 1897(or late-1896...), he caught wind of the advertisements of recruitment the newly local Columbia Phonograph Company, and that they were holding auditions and tests. Not long afterward, he went off to 27th and Broadway to await his turn before Easton, Emerson, and Issler. Soon he was declared an employee of Columbia, on staff, almost full time. This came about around March-April 1897, according to auditory study of Columbia recordings made around this time. Soon Hylands began to realize why Issler had become bitter about working in Columbia's studio, or any studio for that matter, though at least in the beginning of Fred's term there, and the end of Issler's, the two of them got along rather well, but this did not last into the next year. Of course, with this new job, Fred had no idea how this was going to impact him, assuming it wasn't a horrible occupation to be a studio musician. How he was wrong. In mid-1897 or so, Hylands seemed like anyone else who worked at Columbia, young, sweet-faced, well-rested, and fit. As can be observed from the images of him at the top of this post, none of these things remained as such. He was still relatively good-looking into 1898, though the temptation of the benefits he received from working at Columbia for got to him faster than anyone could have expected. He came in to Columbia in early-ish 1897 at just over 200(keep in mind that he was freakishly tall), and by the middle of the next year, was at over 300. That was unexpected. Also, he seemed to have aged ever so slightly in that timeframe, seeming like heaps alcohol and drugs carved lines and exacerbated his quick gaining of weight. Like many of us would think to-day, that couldn't have been good for him, gaining that much weight in a relatively short period of time. Well, it's likely that in the early half of his time at Columbia(which incidentally was the last quarter of the brown wax era), is where the diabetes he had began to slowly suffocate him, little by little each coming year. It was because of this unexpected spell of suffering and stress that we get quotes from him like this one: 

That was still not too long after he began working for them, a little over a year perhaps. Of course, by the middle of 1898, his rag-time piano accompaniments were becoming a signature for Columbia's records, as they were openly advertised and described in editions of The Phonoscope and they soon became an indicator for what Columbia's records sounded like. His accompaniments in Rag-time behind those singers were superior, perhaps outdoing Edison's own Frank Banta and Fred Hager  by a mile or more. Not always, but the musical ideas and folk background of his made the style more distinct, and interesting to listeners of the era and of to-day. Since Fred was had become so popular at Columbia, he used this to his advantage in selling his music, since anything he wrote while there was certain to get him some decent mileage. it was just at the height of the infamous exhibition season that he wrote his famous "national success"(not really) "The Darkey Volunteer", for Vess Ossman, and when he sent out advertisements highly praising his piece from his first few months at Columbia "The Narcissus Gavotte". This got far, with a handful of takes of "The Darkey Volunteer", and many encores of his fantastic playing at the wearisome, hot and sticky exhibitions, it seemed all-right for him. It must be noted that on the the 1898 cylinder of this by Ossman and Hylands, that it seems the composer didn't even bother to practice his most prized piece, or just bother to play it to the best of his ability(there are many mistakes scattered all around throughout the piece, not on Ossman's part). That just goes to show how Hylands felt sometimes, even in the presence of tightly strung and intense natured Ossman, who probably tediously practiced the piece till he couldn't anymore.  Hylands could clearly be frustrating sometimes, and this is just one example of perhaps many aggravating little things he pulled with other recording stars. 
1899 turned out to be an even more pivotal year for Hylands, and this was because of his forceful will in beginning an official publishing firm with Roger Harding and Steve Porter. He threw the idea at them as well as setting aside some stocks for the firm, all before the firm could ever get anywhere, only publishing one piece successfully in February. After Fred's angry break down from the "Knickerbockers" firm blowing to bits, he stepped right in again to begin another publishing firm, this time with his good studio friend Len Spencer and his booking agent.
This time it seemed Fred had the Columbia Lady's hair in his grasp, by then owning an amount of authority over Columbia's flow of music in the studio. This allowed him to publish music of the studio stars, to further their fame, and this time just not on recordings, but also in print! It was ingenious, until the notion fell through after a year and a half, since Burt Green couldn't manage his flat during the days, and Len Spencer had pretty much dropped out by then, due to his constant recording activity, and Fred himself had grown heavier and weary of the managing he'd done for everyone. Hylands Spencer and Yeager fell through completely in October 1900, and by the month afterward, he had sold all his stock, further throwing him into deeper melancholy from the failure. He still had Columbia to keep him employed, though it was around the time of ending the firm and the last true year of the brown wax era(1901) that he began to form his somewhat rebellious, Socialist viewpoint that later proved him well for a short while. He continued to work regularly at Columbia, thought reluctantly, and worried he was more susceptible to fights and abuse from the other staff members, due to his fooling with them during the publishing firm, which unfortunately for him included everyone he worked with regularly. To escape this, and return to his roots, he began performing in minor shows on and just off Broadway, as well as performing in straight vaudeville, singing songs and playing that signature piano style he seemed to have been known for. By 1902, he had a fling with Columbia finally, almost getting him thrown out, other than the whole Climax feud doing just the same thing. This time, it was more of his own fault, feeling agitated and abused by Columbia's treatment of him, he had enough, though they didn't, and couldn't fire him right then and there. His protest included going off and working for Columbia enemies, such as Zon-O-Phone and Leeds. The other companies welcomed him with open arms, with no previous notion of how vexing working with him was. Of course, like anything he involved himself in, his association with these other companies didn't last long, and by early 1903, he was back at Columbia, working there until the middle of 1905,when at last he was dropped. After 8 years, he was finally freed from them, and able to do what he wanted. Despite mild successes on Broadway in 1905 and 1906, he still was dissatisfied with the little recognition he received from this, and not being able to lived as comfortably as he wanted. Being one of the founding leaders of the White Rats Actors' Union, he had some protection and leverage to keep him and Marie out of poverty. He slowly drifted away from what he was supposed to be doing as a chief at the White Rats, becoming solely a musician with each coming month, refusing to be seen on the stage(Wish we knew why this is...) and becoming disloyal to the union he helped found and organize. He did continue to perform onstage regularly during his period where the other union members became suspicious of him. By 1910, he was living in a boardinghouse not too far away from where the old Columbia building was still standing tall. He and Marie came in and out of the boardinghouse, going on various tours and trips for the stage, and it seemed that Marie was busier than Fred, not even being present for the 1910 census, and her performances scattered all over stage magazines with Belle Farmer were taking over Fred's spotlight by a mile. In 1912, after being thrown out of the White Rats for good, Fred teamed with Wilbur Held as a duo in vaudeville. Keep in mind that by this time, Fred was slimmed out once more, similar to when he first began working at Columbia, but this time it was because of traveling and sickness, not like before. The touring he did from 1906 to 1909 wore him out, and probably exacerbated the downfall of his health. By 1912, especially early 1913, he was especially not well, perhaps any night of a show could be his last by then. Of course, he didn't think that way, so he refused to let this notion bother him. In the early part of 1913, Fred and Held were signed to tour in England in the summer, which by June, is where they sent off to. Once over there, they got to touring almost right away, with Fred and Wilbur being the headliners of many shows, and Marie being in some of them as well. After about a few weeks of touring, once the troupe had gotten to the northwestern coast of England, Fred dropped dead, of something related to the crippling diabetes he had for years. Oddly enough, Marie and Held continued to perform for a few more weeks after Fred died, since their contract had been extended, to two years it's said, but of course, it could not be fulfilled without Fred. 


After a few more weeks, the troupe finally disbanded and went back to the U. S., to have Fred's funeral. It was held by the White Rats union, despite their bitterness toward him in the end, he was still a founding member, and deserved the respect. It is not certain where in New York he was buried, or if his grave it marked in any way, it's unlikely to be. Marie spent two years in mourning for Fred, in the typical Victorian tradition, but just then and there in 1915 she went back to where she and Fred met in Chicago to marry a Dutchman named Sam Gelder, it is uncertain how long they were married, but it was into the 1920's. 



I don't think I need to exhibit a bunch of recordings Hylands was on because they are scattered all over the posts of this blog, and there's really no way to decide on only three or four with him. This is exactly why he's ever interesting! 

Sorry about not posting for over a week, it's been hard to make the time for a post in the past week. 

Keep your spirits up out there! 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Arthur Pryor, Ben Harney, Silas Leachman and more interesting analyses

Sorry it's been over a week since my last post, I have not only gone to another Rag-Time festival, but also began my new year in school. The school part is not exactly the most exciting, nor the most enjoyable part of what happened this week. I left my last post just prior to my going away to the Sutter Creek Rag-Time Festival, which was very fun and full of great music geeks just as usual. It's always fun to see everyone again, all the musicians, and friends of the performers just the same. I cannot thank Charlie Judkins enough for being able to put up with all of my antics and later being able to stay over at my home. He really made my weekend worth while!  All of the performers really made that weekend so much fun!

With the three days of festival and two more of staying over, Charlie and I listened to many records, and played many of these rare songs that only he and I have really studied deeply. Since just before this weekend, I had been awaiting to hear the only piano solo that Arthur Pryor made. Rather than just thinking that this is probably just another boring solo of a tune that none of us find important, it must be taken into consideration that Pryor's Rags are actually great examples of a strange and very syncopated style that I often highlight on this blog. Of all early recording stars who wrote music, Pryor's rags are among the most interesting(other than Hylands' and Burt Green's of course!). They kept many of these old traditions of Rag-time playing into the later 1900's and early 1910's to some extent. Knowing that Pryor made a piano solo in 1900 could unlock many unknown doors into how the early style of Rag-Time was really played, and Pryor being from rural Missouri says all that needs to be said in this matter. Being surrounded by the early studio pianists like Banta and Hylands also gives us hints. Just to further back up that statement, Pryor made his only piano solo on the same day that Banta made his infamous solo of "Hello My Baby", that really tells you that Banta and Pryor were at least in the same studio on the same day, to make two infamously hard-to-find piano solos. 
As of now, I am still anxiously awaiting to hear the solo, of which it is indeed out there in someone's collection. Once I hear it, I will report the details. 

Charlie and I often discussed the interesting background of Silas Leachman throughout much of the five days seeing each other. Leachman had a background that was full of mysteries, and interesting theories. 
Leachman(c.1895)
He and I have concluded that Leachman was a traveling minstrel in various shows in the 1880's, performing in places like Detroit, Fort Wayne, Louisville, and later Chicago. With all of this traveling, Leachman stopped and performed in the hometowns of stars of the generation after Leachman, such as Fred Hylands, and Ben Harney. Leachman's recordings to this date remain among the best period examples of true and accurate imitations of black performers in the late-19th century. That may sound strange coming from a Len Spencer freak, but really, Leachman has Spencer beat by his accuracy, and it helps that the piano accompaniment on all his records was always great and fitting, regardless of who the pianist is. 

Now, here's the question, did Harney take from Leachman, or did Leachman take from Harney? 

It's hard to know, but since Leachman was a generation older than all of those Rag-Time pianists, it makes this dilemma even harder to solve. Leachman did probably perform in Harney's hometown in the early or mid-1880's, when Harney was just a youth, very bright and curious. With all of this curiosity from Harney, it seems inevitable that Leachman's performance style would have rubbed off on Harney. But of course, the only way to really get an idea of this is to listen to Leachman's rendition of Harney's most popular song for many decades:
This is great in all ways, and this recording will forever be important to the history of Rag-Time. This is even more so with this theory attached to it. After listening to this record,  the only way to really get a sense of this would be to listen to Harney's 1910's-20's recording of "Good Old Wagon". 

I hate to do this, but who ever is hiding the fifteen or so other cylinders of Harney singing out there, WHY ARE YOU HIDING THEM FROM US?!

Apologies for that... I feel the need to say that finally. Anyway, Harney's recording is very much similar in a lot of ways to the Leachman recordings that we know of, especially that one of "Mister Johnson". I know that I have done the Harney to Spencer comparison before, but from the two other takes I have heard of Spencer's Lambert of "Good Old Wagon", it seems that Spencer is the most similar to Harney in singing style of any of these performers. It seems inevitable that Spencer would have known Harney at some point in the late-1890's, since Spencer made the effort to go and meet all of these singers that he imitated(others include May Irwin, DeWolf Hopper, Barney Fagan, and George M. Cohan). Spencer was also involved in the booking field with Harry Yeager in 1896-1900, and that is the perfect timeframe to have met with all of these pianist and performers like Harney, in fact, this area must have been where he first met Fred Hylands. Yeager not only got him shows as a minstrel, but also was able to introduce him to many great figures of Broadway and of vaudeville. 
I don't know exactly how long Harry Yeager was involved with Spencer, but it was certainly a few years, that began around 1897 it seems. Yeager must have been a great help to Spencer, who was obviously someone too smart for his own good. With this intellect, he was bound to easily lose things and forget things(there is solid evidence of this!), so I have the feeling that Yeager was his sideman before Fred Hylands came along and literally consumed most of his time and living. Fred couldn't keep anything for the same reason, so Yeager was stuck between them as the nightmarish bookkeeper constantly ridden with anxiety and stress. Regardless of all of that, Yeager outlived the others in Hylands' publishing firm. Harry Yeager remains still a mysterious character in the mix of these "Columbia clan" members, even if he was mentioned a few times in The Phonoscope in 1899 and 1900, and I have been able to track him somewhat in census records. 
That's supposedly him in the early-1910's. 
He would have been about in his mid-40's at the time of this picture. That makes sense, considering the age of the others in the publishing firm. Yeager seems like the sort of man who was the best to communicate with when wanting to consult Hylands' firm. Hylands was not often home at reasonable times, as was Spencer, Burt Green was too good-looking and young, but with all of this, Yeager was the "straight-man", or just the regular businessman at the firm. He was the man that you'd've wanted to meet with when you called. You be damned if you met with Hylands himself! 
Yeager's official role in the firm itself remains unclear, though it's certain why he was involved in the first place, as that was the work of Spencer pulling Fred's leg earlier before the firm began. He did have to beg him it seemed. Harry's role might have been for to be the bookkeeper, and just another salesman, even if they had plenty of those. It must be noted that he was also a performer and show organizer, so that gives us some clues. He was clearly organized, and much more of an everyday man than Hylands, Spencer and Burt Green, even if he just happened to also be a singer. Things are yet to unfold about Harry Yeager, and we haven't that much to work with as of now. 



Other than going to Sutter Creek and spending time with Charlie, staying up 'til two in the morning listening to records, and beginning school again, there's not much more I have to say for this post. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Fiddler Fred and other items of Interest

In the time that has elapsed since my last post, my dear friend Charlie Judkins and I spoke over telephone of Hylands, Banta, Gaisberg, Issler, and even Jay Roberts and Les Copeland. This long conversation was very informative on both ends, and from this, Charlie sent me an amazing mix of newspaper sections relating to Hylands, Burt Green, and Les Copeland. The first thing that was extraordinary about the sections he sent me was something having to do with the first part of the title of this post. I'll give a hint with a cartoon:
Yes, it does look strange to find Fred Hylands playing a fiddle, but apparently, according to this section just below, he did play violin!
Wow! What a program that was! 
But wait a moment, "Master" Fred Hylands playing fiddle at fourteen? What! Hmm, I couldn't get over that when I first read through it. I still can't now, after several days from reading it first through. Since this section clearly indicates that Hylands was an accomplished violinist at just 14, that means that he was a violinist for the rest of his life, as I can recall a piece of his music from 1900 that is a violin part only, which is strange, but now makes sense. Hmm. This opens so many new ideas when thinking about Hylands, as Violin players are notorious for being showy, competitive, and vain. Hmm, that sounds an awful lot like Hylands... I wonder what it was he was playing there, Paganini or something like "Old Dan Tucker". Either way, it well indicates that he was a pianist as well as a Violinist, which is really fascinating. 

Anyway, the next fascinating section was a May 12, 1900 section about a performance out at the Dyker Heights club done by a handful of Columbia minstrels under Len Spencer. 
Yep, that's the majority of the management over at Hylands Spencer and Yeager. When I read that Hylands played bones here, it prompted one of the funniest images in my head. Hylands all in his minstrel garb playing bones, then getting up quick to go and play piano, hilarious!
Yep, that's pretty much the image I saw. So of course, I had to get out my pencils and paper to draw it! 

There are many familiar studio names in that section above, from Len Spencer to William Hooley, so that would indicate that it was a sort of joint performance with Spencer's minstrels(I just knew Hylands performed with Spencer's minstrels!) and just some of his studio friends. Spencer really must have enjoyed Atlee, since he seems to have been somewhat just on the edge of the "Columbia clan", that would indicate that he was a favourite of not only Spencer's but also of the audiences and record-buyers. 

Another of these great sections is a short but interesting advertisement from the Boston Sun from November 17th, 1901:
Looks like a fantastic show! Having Fred Hylands in a show must have been considered a great thing in 1901, as that was the very year he was officially considered one of the top three pianists in vaudeville. It's very interesting to see his name listed in a cast that was not at all related to Columbia and its artists, unlike the previous one. It was in 1901 that he was still prominently working for Columbia, so I bet that he came in to Columbia at least once during the week-long run of the show advertised above. I'm finally starting to understand Hylands' time spacing while working at Columbia. It's beginning to make a little more sense, just have to find more sections like this though. 

Now this next item is a very interesting look into Irene Franklin and Burt Green, which is a much more dramatized telling of their meeting, but regardless, it's a good read for sure. 
https://books.google.com/books?id=Dp3PAAAAMAAJ&pg=PR27&dq=burton+green+irene+franklin&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiJs_S73MXMAhUFHh4KHWprCT4Q6AEIKjAC#v=onepage&q=burton%20green%20irene%20franklin&f=false

There are some fun truthful parts to this tale, but the whole meeting when Irene was sixteen was a myth, as we all know that Green met Irene in about 1906 while working at Huber's for $75 a week, which beats Hylands' salary at Columbia by quite a lot! Burt Green might have been kind and affectionate toward Irene when they first were getting to know each other, but we know that the dates are all wrong from logistics of knowing that Burt was married before he met Irene. This was not at all mentioned in the article above for some reason. Must have been because if any of the truth about Green was mentioned, well, it would be a little less romanticized, even though the idea of him being dissatisfied with his first wife, then finding Irene and splitting with his first wife for her is a pretty good story. Thought it's not exactly the same as the sweet tale told in the article, nor would it be considered as so to readers of the magazine. Think back to what I said about the problems with The Phonoscope with possible myths being told, and rumours being spread, who knows what's right and wrong. 
Anyhow, I am still waiting for my friend Daniel's copy of "You Don't Stop the World from Going Round" to arrive in the mail, and I will certainly do a post on it once it comes. 


Hope you enjoyed this! 





Thursday, February 11, 2016

A History and background of Hylands, Spencer, and Yeager(1899-1900)

"Yours fraternally," indeed, that sums up much of the relationship between all of the members of the above publishing firm. There were many more than three people involved in this firm, in fact, there were more than ten prominent members of the cause. They were all part of the clan that Hylands wanted to begin with this firm, some were recording artists, but others weren't. It was a real mix of people who were in all aspects of the music business. 


This firm's history really stems from the experiences he had while a music director. Hylands saw into the future of the recording business, by finding that recording artists could soon become attached to the publishers by recording songs before they were published for all to have copies. This was something that was very rare in the 1890's, but according to some, it did happen occasionally before the turn of the 20th century. Hylands, being a "hot member"(1890's slang!) of the vaudeville business and Rag-Time community, he must have seen some of these sly deals take place, though he must not have been intended to. Since he was the music director at one of the hottest places for vaudeville and Rag-Time in the 1890's(Pastor's theater), he must have seen all sorts of secret deals made by publishers and performers. Being his observant and brilliant self, seeing all of this happen around him got him ideas. 

Once Columbia took him in, he was no longer a stage director, in fact, he was thrown down quite a few steps from being a music director. Being a studio pianist was almost like being a factory worker(though he got paid far better than a factory worker). What I'm saying really is that he was no longer someone who bossed people around, as a studio pianist, he was the one being kicked around, whether he liked it or not(which he certainly didn't!). His first firm of late-1898 was a "vanity firm"( a sheet music collector slang word meaning a firm that was started up by an obscure composer only for the purpose of publishing their own music). Hylands' first attempt at publishing music is the very epitome of the "Vanity firm" slang term. It's the one that we can see here:
(detail of the bottom of his "Darkey Volunteer")
This firm only lasted until he felt that enough copies of "The Darkey Volunteer" were sold to keep him satisfied. That must not have been very many copies, as it wasn't really that popular. Yes, there were quite a few different recordings of the song, but only because he demanded that it be recorded after he compiled the piece in mid-1898. That firm fell by early 1899, which left him with lots of money to spend. From this contentment, he decided to take everything and move closer to Columbia's headquarters, along with Marie(his wife) and his father Charles. They lived in a very nice flat, that was only a block away from Columbia, perfect for what they all needed. In February of 1899, he began his second attempt at publishing, this time with the aid of Steve Porter:
and Roger Harding:
They were certainly willing to put in their money to help out Hylands, who was constantly gambling(notice the italics...) with their profits, and his. This firm remained successful for only about a month or so, with all of the profits funneling to Hylands, which did include the money of Porter and Harding going to Fred. It failed quick, but they didn't lose their trust in him just yet. 

After the "Knickerbockers" firm failed, Porter was frustrated with Fred, but after seeing this go by him, Len Spencer and his booking agent Harry Yeager took an interest in Fred's endurance and potential. At the beginning of March(1899), Spencer came up to him after a recording day and explained he whole idea and process of wanting to publish with him. Hylands was probably a little foggy with the idea at first, but after thinking about it for a little while(obviously not thinking it entirely through...) he at last shook Spencer's hand the week after the idea was first spoken of. Then Hylands had control of much of what the singers recorded, which must have brought him back to the days of when he was a music director. He at last had some power over the recording artists, which is something he probably always wanted while working under Victor Emerson at Columbia. One of the things that was unique about Hylands' firm with Len Spencer was that he wanted any performers or recording artists to come and stay at his firm(which was his house) for as long as they needed to, in fact, I bet that he took home some of the drunk recording stars after the session days, like Len Spencer, or George Gaskin, or even Burt Green(who wasn't a recording artist obviously, but probably came to Columbia sometimes while working with Fred). As he advertised openly:

"Come to my house! I've got drinks, food, a piano, and plenty of dough! Though the only catch is that you'll only see me later in the evenings! Ah'll be good to ya, Ah promise!"

That's pretty much what he was saying in this advertisement. He said that he'd be there in the day and evenings, but that was very rare for him, as he was working in the studio from 8 in the morning to about 8 at night. And you know that he was the one who wrote out this ad, I can tell. He wanted his house to be a boardinghouse/ social parlor/ publishing office, and he did get all of that while running this firm. He must have run this firm like he was a king, and everyone else were his serfs, becoming the sort of manager that Victor Emerson was to him(hmm...). He was more "fun" than Emerson though, as it's certain that he sometimes would have invited a whole bunch of people over at a time when sales were going good, and have a feast of drinks, and whatever the heck someone like him would have liked. The pieces they published were popular among the exhibitioners and recording stars, and since the songs were being recorded, the record-buyers wanted the sheet music. His biggest success was "You Don't Stop the World from Goin' Round", which was originally written for Len Spencer by Fred Hylands and Will J. Hardman, but it became a much bigger success than he could have thought. Of course, Hylands knew that it was going to be a big hit, not as big as it turned out to be though. According to The Phonoscope, that tune was already in its third edition by April of 1899, which is really surprising by how fast it was spreading. Hm! Hylands must have been really convincing and charming to get something spread that fast! 
Here's Spencer and Hylands' Berliner of it from April of 1899:
It was a"Famous Negro Success" as according to the announcement, which makes sense, since there was so much high praise for it in The Phonoscope. More than half of the music published by Hylands Spencer and Yeager was music that Hylands either wrote or co-wrote, which also shows the half "Vanity-firm" that this whole venture was. Hylands sent out many associates on his behalf to get copies sold of their music, and to find more people in his circles to write music and have him publish it(with his name on it). He did give advance copies of music to a selected few people, Roger Harding being one, and Len Spencer being another, which stems from what he saw as a music director. 

Hylands' slogan was "Here Hot Hits Happen", which he most likely wrote in his own hand at the top of their very stylish and intricate logo(in that slightly lefty-looking handwriting of his, observe how the treble clef is drawn). Hylands kept his profits up for a great many months, with many famous performers coming to chat with him and maybe share a drink or two. Some of those performers include Barney Fagan, Byron Harlan, May Irwin, and probably even Lillian Russell:
Fred probably hosted her for a lavish dinner one evening, and they kept up with each other's appetites for sure!(She was famous for that among other things!). It was all good for Fred, with money like he'd never seen before, and he was happier than he ever could be, even if Columbia was still kicking him around. By 1900, he was still getting things published, more on his end of the music though. Most of the publishing he did in 1900 was his music, though he did publish a single piece by J. Fred Helf( a very popular ballad composer) again early that year. He must have seen his finish by then, with the publishing business becoming too incredibly competitive and "cut-throat", it was evident that his promises would soon leave him broke and depressed. 

By September of 1900, he was the closest to broke he had ever been, even though he was working at Columbia frequently still, the firm was starting to be take over by the larger firms that were buying out all the small ones. By the end of October, Hylands was taken by another big firm, and he had to sell all his stock to them, and give them most of his profits that were left. At this, Hylands had to tell everyone who was involved that it was over completely, and that none of the profits survived the buying out. He became depressed from this, and was short on cash until he got paid by Columbia, as it was his only source of income at this time. Marie had to go back to work by this time, as she needed to provide for them as well(she had been out of work since about April of that year), which meant that she was out late as well. This firm seemed like a terrible thing to Fred after it all passed by, but it really was a great thing while it lasted! It was the first real attempt to unite recording artists, composers and publishers into a single business, with open engagements and kind hospitality. It's a piece of music history that should at least be mentioned in books about the 1890's, or about history of the music business, because it was a powerhouse of music exchange that only lasted a year and a half, but a whole lot made that year very long for everyone involved in the firm. 


I hope you enjoyed this!