Showing posts with label J. W. Myers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J. W. Myers. Show all posts

Saturday, June 16, 2018

Revisions and More new Transfers

All right, scratch most of what I said about Hardman in the last post. 
This thing is becoming much more frustrating than expected. 
So let's say that this guy wasn't the funny British man. 
After going back at the handful of examples of his music, the two things don't seem to fit together. 
Think back to the post where I first used that sheet above to talk about Mr. Hardman, when I used all the comical imagery and union talk. 
This is who the guy was. More of the influence of socialism on Hylands than anything. Thinking back to the music he wrote in the 1880's, he likely had a similar background to Hylands, particularly thinking of songs like this:
That's curious. Didn't someone we know literally live in the same decade under similar circumstances?
Hylands!
Yes indeed. In 1887 Hylands' father Charles opened a grocery store in Fort Wayne, Indiana. This sort of thing is rather midwestern, which would place Hardman likely in a similar upbringing to Hylands. Take that combined with the Union song from the same time and we have a similar story to Hylands, but realized a little earlier. Of course we still have no idea how old he was, or where exactly he came from, but we do have little hints from the handful of published music that's out there. So even with all this digging and learning yesterday, we are still in the same place as before unfortunately. Just like last time, we can associate imagery like this with Hylands and Hardman's relationship:
It still makes the most sense, and with a midwestern background to tie them together, we can assume that's what got them together under the talk of reviving their music writing skills. 
So please disregard most of what I said in the last post about that book at such. Not everything I've said about him is entirely wrong, but let's just revert to what we had before the last post. 



So now that that's done, it's time to listen to some more new transfers! As per usual, I've been checking the vast archive of Santa Barbara every day for new transfers, unearthing new ones almost every day. Luckily, there is a new Issler transfer up, and those are always guaranteed to impress. 
There he is, looking all official and whatnot. 
We know very well of Issler's outstanding capability to play syncopation in his music, which is evident throughout his recording career. This new transfer is no exception to this. 
Here's the new transfer:
The first section of this quadrille has an overtly syncopated section that sounds an awful lot like cake-walks published around the time this was recorded. This record was made likely around 1895, as are the bulk of Issler's records that we hear out there. The syncopation on this particular record sounds like a typical cake-walk from a few years later actually. What sections like this would have been called in the early and mid 1890's would be "buck and wing" or just
wing dance", which is another direct ancestor to Rag-Time. Here are two published examples of "wing dances", published before 1899:
Think of a weird combination of Irish reels and black folk dances. That's essentially what we're dealing with here. 
Another good example of one of these is actually Monroe Rosenfeld's widely recorded "Virginia Skedaddle". These pieces encompass a lot of the distinct characteristics of American music throughout the 19th century. This is why hearing Issler play this stuff on records is valuable. We get an entire summing up of American(and not just North America I mean, I'm also referring to the West Indies and southern America) music in a few recordings of 2 to three minute songs. In speaking of songs like this, Santa Barbara has a curious record listed by the Columbia orchestra with an interesting title:
"Wing dance",that ought to be just what we're looking for. And with that, the piece could possibly be an older piece that was carried over to the Columbia Orchestra from Issler in the early and mid-1890's. This particular record is of interest to Rag-Time scholars because of the primitive and jig like melodic lines, the ones that were distinct of the earliest minstrel show songs(like "Turkey in the straw"!). This is exactly where the primitive rag name "jig-piano" comes into the picture. This record overall is a standard example of the earliest Columbia orchestra, with half the musicians being Issler's, and the other half being prestigious Gilmore's band musicians. Since this particular record is from that issue-ridden gray area for Columbia(1897), it's hard to tell who the pianist in the orchestra would be. 

This next record is quite different from the last one in term of content. 
It's been a little while since J.W. Myers has had a significant mention, so here you go:
Myers around 1893. 
This new Myers transfer is just interesting enough to keep me listening. Normally I am drawn to coon songs and funny popular songs, rather than what this record is. Here you go with John Philip Sousa's "The Man Behind the Gun":
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder17164

You will notice how loud and clear this record is. In fact, it's so clear and well recorded, that a friend and I discussed the possibility of this record being and original(directly recorded to cylinder, with no copying process). My friend stated how original records were sold(by Columbia) in the brown wax era, but were more expensive and the standard 60 cent Columbia record. With Edison records this wasn't the same process, Edison was known to sell originals all around for the same price. Anyway, what stands out about this record is that Myers of course was a great singer, but the piano accompaniment. Hylands is playing pretty typical accompaniment stuff, but the quality of which we hear it is outstanding. We can distinctly hear the very chord inversions he's playing, down to every single note coming through nice and clear. Hearing records like these reminds us how even though the process of recording was frustrating and sanded away at the lives of those who made them, the outcome was often loud and clear. With that, we can all live that moment in time, no matter what take it was, or what time of the day it was. 

This last record is one that I've been anxiously awaiting its transfer since the moment they listed it online. Of course all of the overt Coon songs Spencer did that are listed are gradually being put up to be listened to, and this one is just another great example of them. 
This particular one is another popular May Irwin hit from 1897, as are most of the better coon songs that Spencer recorded with Hylands accompaniment. The original transfer that was put up on Santa Barbara was far too fast, so slowing it down to a more respectable speed was of order. Just to get the comparison, here's the original transfer:
http://cylinders.library.ucsb.edu/search.php?queryType=@attr+1=1020&num=1&start=1&query=cylinder14535
It's hard to listen to honestly, so here's the better slowed down transfer, where the piano accompaniment comes through much better:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0By7WuiOUrg7YdldGc2ZWMW9WWmIyeDJrZ1YycWg1Y2h4Ymg0/view?usp=sharing
It's much more tolerable now, and sounds perfectly ragged. Yes, this isn't a great example of Spencer's singing(this is my perfect pitch coming through...), but the piano accompaniment far exceeds the rather out-of-tune singing of Spencer. This sort of Spencer record is exactly what I look for in terms of great examples of pre-1900 rag-time. This record and his "Get Your Money's Worth" from around the same time are among the best examples of their collaborations from pre-1900. These records are the zenith of recorded rag-time at the height of the first rag era(1893-1903), it really doesn't get much better than this folks. 
All the significant Hylands characteristics are present in this new transfer. You get the walking bass notes, pushy rhythmic syncopation, and out of whack following of the singer. It's records like these where we're reminded of how hard it must have been to accompany Spencer. Spencer was known for distinct pauses and little talking sections in the middle of records, and therefore made life for the accompanist very difficult. With other performers and singers, Hylands didn't naturally do the weird pause thing and aggressive speeding up of verses and choruses, but with Spencer, this was essential. This makes Spencer hard to follow, even if you're someone who understands what he did very well, he still did more of talking through songs than actually singing them. There isn't a thing wrong with this habit, it just gets us thinking about how hard Hylands' job was. I'm sure even Banta would have found Spencer to be rather difficult to accompany. Banta at least didn't have to deal with too many singers like Spencer at Edison and Victor(exceptions being Billy Golden and Silas Leachman). Keep in mind that Banta did indeed accompany Spencer on Victor and on Spencer's early Edison records. 


All right then. I should end it here, I was going to talk about Ruby Brooks in this post, but there seems to be enough to do an entire post on him, so that will be next!


Hope you enjoyed this!



Thursday, June 22, 2017

A Quest

I really do apologise for not writing blog posts frequently...

Using Facebook has consumed much of my time, as it tends to do...
While out on hiatus, I went out to the UC Santa Barbara recorded sound archive, which was an eyeopener! if you know anyone in association with the archive, I would highly recommend going there to dig through cylinders and 78's, and everything else they've got stored there. I really should share a few pictures from the tour! Thanks to knowing people there, I got a full tour of the place, which was endlessly interesting...
It began with a Bell and Tainter machine...
 What a nice picture of that seal!
The inside bits, with a date indicating c.1893 as the date on this scarce machine.
What an amazing way to start!
I got to see the Zon-O-Phone project in process as we began our tour, with a guy taking those high quality pictures of the labels that can be seen on the LOC  website, such as the one below!
This guy was taking those fancy pictures of Zon-O-Phone records right before our eyes! He was taking a picture of a few Zon-O-Phone orchestra records as I recall. For those of you wondering about the Zon-O-Phone project, it's going strong, and making progress every day. 
We then were taken to where the good stuff was---the cylinders! 
Oh yes, that's what it looked like. It's heaven for sure.
Where do we start? it was hard to make decisions of what I wanted to see, since pretty much half the records I've listened to for the past 6 years have been from this very place. The kind young man giving us the tour was really into the Pathe cylinders, so he showed us where most of those are kept, and he was also really into the newly transferred Mexican and Cuban cylinders they recently acquired. 
There are some of those Pathe Concert cylinders. Most of them have the original boxes and record slips, which is really nice.
The guy who was supposed to give us the tour was out of town, so one of his skilled young assistants did the tour, that's why there wasn't as much Columbia digging as there usually would be(that would have kept me there all day...). We soon got to some Columbia's! Of course we did. That's the good stuff.
Since i had for years hear Myers sing "The Bell Buoy", I asked to go see it and hold it. 
What a life-changing little thing! I had never seen or held a North American before. It felt less fragile than the usual brown waxes we usually see and hold. It felt sturdy and ready to be played. A feeling that doesn't usually come when holding brown wax. 
That beautiful, but empty channel rim.
Couldn't believe I was holding that in my hands. It's in beautiful shape for its age, but it looks just as great as it sounds.
Absolutely beautiful, especially after holding it. 
The cylinder was also much darker than I thought North American's were. They could easily be mistaken for Columbia records from c.1902, if you didn't notice the channel rim. 
Later I also spotted a few Len Spencer cylinders...(knowing the Columbia block for him helps...)
You can hear this here:
This one looks how it sounds for sure.
I also requested to hold that infamous cylinder "Will O' The Wisp" by Myers, just to see if it's worth getting transferred...
and how it is!

It's in gorgeous condition, and fully worth getting transferred! Hopefully the tale of Hylands playing this piece till he dropped is fully demonstrated with this cylinder. I had assumed it would he the same shade of brown as "Little Yaller Coon" by Spencer, but it's comparable to the North American's shade, which was unexpected. There were also some newly acquired editions of Hobbies written by Jim Walsh, but they were poorly patched together and not in good shape in the first place(they were rather brittle and yellowing). Those were interesting, since I had never seen these famous articles in their entirety, nor had I held any of them in my hands. That was some thing there it was...
That was all nice, with record catalogs we dug through, saw some piano rolls, piles of disc records, record encyclopedias, and miscellaneous stuff related to records stacked in shelves and we saw the boss' office! Mr. Seubert's office was especially nice, with some of the most interesting books about records and recording, and a few machines on shelves and scattered catalogs. 


Enough of that...since it's certain I will be visiting again very soon...


Now for the main reason of this post, referring to the title listed above.
This "mission" is something I've been piecing together for a while now, and it's beginning to take form now. In just over a year from now, I will be trekking to the Eastern U. S. to tour the North East to write a book. This book will be a journal of my travels in historical documentation, which will include tracking down and visiting all of the studio locations, recording artists' homes, publishing firms, theaters, and anything else related of interest. On this quest, I will go all of these places and write a day-to-day journal of thoughts and connections, as well as documentation of where and if things are still in place. 
Among these places that I will visit will include the following:

1155 Broadway(Columbia), 33 W. 27th street, most of E. 14th street(where all the theaters were and where musicians lived), where Frank P. Banta lived, stroll down 28th street(Tin Pan Alley), Columbia's headquarters in Washington DC, Sousa's house in DC, The site of the Berliner studio in DC, the street corner where Gaisberg indicated he discovered George Graham, where the Spencer Business college was in DC, find where John Yorke AtLee lived in DC, find all the famous theaters where the big early Broadway shows premiered, visit the Edison recording studio address in NYC(on 5th avenue), visit the very house that Russell Hunting and Charlie Carson lived and were arrested in(!), find where Vess Ossman lived,  Spencer's Lyceum, visit all the places where Hylands lived in New York, go to where this picture was taken:
(and maybe even get a few rag-time friends to pose similarly here if this place is still there somewhere...)
Of course, I intend to do some of this journey with my good friends on the East coast, like Charlie, who almost every day walks by some of these historic places. I will go inside all of these places(the ones that are left...) and dig around for any remnants of the history that happened there. I'd be especially curious about what might be hidden in the house Russell Hunting was arrested in. That could be very interesting and fruitful all the same, since he had to have hid things in that house somewhere... This also goes for the places where Hylands lived, since he was very unorganized it seems, he may have left some stuff occasionally while moving. The boardinghouse he lived in around 1910 would also be curious, since that was a house full of actors. Finding all of these places where the recording stars lived will be a chore...since I know where only a few of them lived at a certain point while they were recording. Certainly I will visit the fabled Dyker Heights where Spencer and Porter lived so highly around 1899 and 1900. I'll find all the musicians too, Issler, Schweinfest, Tuson, Dana, Hager, Geib(he played tuba for Edison early on), Banta, Chris. Booth, Arthur Pryor, Albert Benzler, Gaisberg, etc. The recording stars homes will remain a priority, because as soon as I get to the east coast, I ought to track down as many addresses as I can and notify them that I will be doing all of this "snooping" around if you will, for historical research. Luckily their addresses(some of them) are scattered around in recording magazines and theatrical papers. After getting the home addresses, I will start with the recording studios, and luckily, this will mean passing by Columbia at 27th and Broadway many times ,which is perfect for writing often about the amount of historic things that occurred there in such a short period of time. Many entries will refer to the Columbia studio, as well as the Edison studio(in NYC), and it helps that both of these places are on the way to other places of interest. I will also make many commutes that the recording stars once made, such as Gaskin, Spener(wherever he lived from 1897-1900...), Porter, Banta, Hylands(of course), Roger Harding, Issler(to where the U.S. Company was, and to Columbia), Schweinfest, Tuson, and the rest of the studio musicians we can track down. Of course, this quest wouldn't be complete without visiting the graves of everyone! 
I already visited and cleaned up Vess Ossman's grave, so one down... a whole lot more to go. I got to go find everyone on the east coast(if they didn't end up anywhere else). Luckily, Victor Emerson didn't end up there, he ended up not too far from me actually, in the valley of California..(what a coincidence). Unfortunately, one of my favourites to visit, Fred Hager, is in Florida, and there's no way I'm going to Florida just for that. 
As much as I love you Hager, you're in an awfully inconvenient place for me to visit so soon. Sometime along the line when I'm in Florida I will go pay a visit to him with a huge bundle of blood red roses tied in old silk with a bow, and a lot of kind sweet words to say for him. 
Also, when I go an do the grave visiting, I will have bundles of specific flowers to place on them. For Banta of course, will be a bunch of pretty violets. For Hylands, a few pink carnations, sunflowers, yellow roses and a single blood red rose. For the rest of these performers, I will have to make a key to what certain flowers represent, and make sure to match what I feel about them and what they were like. Of course, there will be mixed messages in many of these bundles, like Hylands' I just listed. The pink carnations are more disdainful, sunflowers haughty and flamboyant, yellow roses for infidelity, and the red for passion and devotion. This will go on and on as I piece together the bundles for everyone...

Anyhow, that's all I got for now. I pretty much explained this quest fully. 

Hope you enjoyed this! 


Thursday, November 24, 2016

Issler's Syncopation and The Slow Speed effect

Edward Issler, the first studio pianist there ever was, and the first one to syncopate behind a singer on a recording. 
It's amazing to fathom that fact, that Issler was the first to play syncopated rhythm behind a singer, and it just happened to be the first recording that the first black recording star made in his career. Issler would have hated to have been known as the first pianist to clearly play "ragged time" on a recording, but it's without a doubt true. It was bound to happen anyhow, as George W. Johnson grew up surrounded by music and melodies that were not the typical straight rhythm tunes that we all know of Victorian Music, it helped that Johnson grew up on a Virginia Plantation, and heard who knows what. Clearly Johnson had the typical sense of "swung" rhythm that many blacks were very familiar with from the days of the early minstrel shows. Issler luckily was gifted with the relatively rare perfect sense of time and pitch. His rhythm was metronomic, rare for the era in which he was schooled musically, and proved an advantage later when making records with his orchestra, as well as learning new rhythmic styles for singers. After going through the few recordings of Issler's where he plays this "ragged" time, is seems likely that learned how to play this way from hearing Johnson's syncopated whistling, since the type of syncopation he played later after recording with him in 1891 is the same rhythm and type. Issler was probably not well-acquainted with the new style of music that was emerging that was being played in minstrel shows and vaudeville functions, but certainly would have been after recording with Johnson in 1891. It is Johnson's recording of "The Whistling Coon" that is the oldest example of a recording of what "rag-time" would have sounded like many years before 1897. Here's the recording:
https://archive.org/details/GeorgeWJohnsonWhistlingCoonIssler1891
Without a doubt, this recording gets across the point of syncopated rhythm very well, on Johnson's and Issler's part. Johnson is whistling all sorts of syncopated rhythms, and Issler tags along and plays some occasional sections with the same, but different types of syncopation. 
In fact, it seems that Johnson's syncopation at about 56 seconds in is the exact type that Issler played on later recordings by his orchestra. A similar type that Issler later used is also Johnson's at 1:56. The first type at 56 seconds in is exactly the same type as that on the perplexing c.1896 recording of "Dixie" by Issler's orchestra(announced by Len Spencer). The syncopation is just after 1:20 seconds in. How that's the strangest thing! It is not the earliest example, but clearly Issler learned how to(kind of) do that from someone, and it is likely that working with George W. Johnson informally taught him how to play that way. It is clear now that Issler was able to play syncopated music, but of course, not in the most natural or loose manner. Since we know that he's on that infamous recording of "Uncle Jefferson" by Billy Golden, there's another good example of what Issler was capable of in terms of improvising. It's clearly syncopated, and a little bit more so than the other examples here, but it's certainly Issler, and it helps that the other recordings have the same syncopation and reasonably set dates to them. That record of "Dixie" is likely from 1896 more than any other year for many logistical reasons, such as the fact that Len Spencer is the announcer, the syncopation is there, and that the company that made the record(The U.S. Phonograph Company) had completely dissolved by May of 1897, and Spencer had left them in January of that year, so there's really no way that the recording is from very early 1897. That makes it one of the few examples of Ragged time on recordings from pre-1897. In that category, I know of about five recordings so far. Hoping to find more out there! 




Now to transition from this matter into a subject that continues to puzzle record collectors all over. When you play recordings from this era at much slower speeds, you can really hear the high and impressive quality of the recordings, from things as slight as single bass notes in the piano accompaniment to specific syllables that singers utter. It's a very strange phenomenon really, and in fact, some of these recordings seem to be made louder when played slower. I tried this yesterday with a few favourite recordings of the collection I have, and all of these aspects came through all the same, and the recordings sounded better overall. Tried playing a few Victors slow, and they sounded so much better, then tried it on some of my one-sided records, and the result was stunning. The recording of "Big Indian Chief" I have by Myers is one that sounded just that way after playing it much slower. 
Myers' actual range had been a debated matter between Ryan Wishner and I recently, and this experiment proves that what we had thought previously was not true. Ryan had assumed that the recording of "Alice Where Art Thou" we slowed down was slowed down too much, but in fact, it is at exactly the right speed. Myers was a low baritone for the most part, though his range was very versatile and could go far into the bass and into the tenor range. The original transfer of "Alice Where Art Thou" is very quick and just sounds as so even without any background information or prior knowledge of the singer or pianist. Just to get the comparison across clearly, here's the original transfer. Now listen to the newer slowed down transfer. One thing I just noticed while listening to the record while writing this is that Hylands hits a very deep single bass note at 1:04, and I didn't notice it before, only because it's one of those notes that reproducer just barely caught, just like a few notes in the whistling chorus of this 1901 Climax record. In fact, I have come to notice that Climax records did that often, only catch the tone of the rattling piano string, not the note in its entirety. Another example is another that we have recently slowed down from the original transfer. 
Here's the original transfer of Collins' "When Mr. Shakespeare Comes to Town" from 1901, now here's the newly slowed down transfer of the same.
Climax records had great sound quality(though they weren't as good as Zon-O-phones from the same era). The final octave that is played in the very last chord of the piano is caught by the diaphragm in exactly the same way as the other Climaxes exhibited here. The very low C is just barely caught, and now that the recording is played slower, this can be heard much better, and about as much it can be, since it's a Climax. 

The final recording to exhibit in furthering the astonishing effects of playing records slower is one of the very few recordings that Fred Bacon made. 
That's him in the early 20's. 
His recordings are highly valued to banjoists all over, since his banjos were among the best made in the 1920's, and they are regarded highly in jazz bands. It helps that his masterful skill transferred from his playing to his making of banjos as well. His playing style was technically better than Ossman's or Ruby Brooks, and it was smoother, as well as sweeter toned. His Victor recording of "West Lawn Polka" is no exception to his mastery, and it's a little funny that the banjoist who arranged it is in this picture here:
But it's not who you might be thinking it is. 
it's the banjoist on the right this time! 
Tommy Glynn. 
Here's the original transfer we all know of Bacon's "West Lawn Polka", now here's my copy slowed down to perfection.
Now that it's slower, the actual tone of the string plucking can be heard, and it brings out the harp-like effect that few banjo recordings from the acoustic era got. It's really how the banjo was intended to sound on these recordings, and it helps that Bacon was an exceptional banjoist, and, in my opinion, the best of these studio stars, and this is only from hearing three recordings of his playing. When three recordings alone get that point across, you know he was a truly gifted musician. The slowed down transfer really exhibits the sweet and dark tone that Bacon got on banjo, and the fact that his playing was the smoothest of the early studio banjoists. 

It must be noted that the pianist on this record is Fred Bachmann, though unfortunately, there's not really anything to distinguish his playing, but he's listed as the pianist in the ledgers, so there's no pianist debate here.

Before I finish the post, I just want to say that if you own a copy of "The battle of Manila" by the Columbia orchestra, I mean the brown wax from 1898, not any later remakes of it, Fred Hylands can be heard toward the beginning yelling in a kind of delirious and slurred way:

ALL'S WELL!

I know it's Hylands because I went back and listened to the two other records where Hylands is assumed to be speaking, and what do ya know! It's the same voice! 
Just to get an idea of it, here are the two recordings I used to support the theory:
Harry Spencer's "Side Show Shouter" from 1898
(Hylands is also on organ)
"The Jolly Coppersmith" by the Columbia orchestra from 1898
(Hylands is heard humming or singing(?) the tune at the trio)
just something to keep in mind, as I hadn't noticed it until I listened to a copy of "The Battle of Manila" this evening, and heard that familiar haunting and railroad brute-sounding voice.



Hope you enjoyed this! 





Monday, October 17, 2016

Columbia as a workplace(1897-1904)

Despite the fact of Columbia's ledgers being long gone, we can piece together how complicated the building picture above was as a workplace for the talent, electricians, attorneys, laborers and everyone else. After a long discussion on this topic yesterday, it made me realise that Columbia was a larger operation than just the recording, even though it could be thought of that way beforehand. Columbia's 27th and Broadway headquarters were the center of the action for the staff in the late-1890's, it was where all the recording was done, exhibitions given, and primary store for record sales. The building seen in the image above was purchased by the Columbia management in 1896, and began operation in the first two months of 1897, a page from the July, 1897 issue of The Phonoscope wrote a very detailed description of the building seen above:
(it's the first article in the edition!)
The building was certainly one of the brightest things on Broadway, and every description of the ground floor parlor never fails to describe those electric lights. In the section above, it is said that there were seven hundred incandescent lights. Seven hundred! Damn! Seven hundred chances to start a beastly fire is what that is! I'm sure it happened at least a few times, like those times when Len Spencer thought he could go an fix something simple, but it turns into a big problem. Remember this here, that was referred to many times later by the Columbia staff as an ongoing joke:
Indeed so, thinking of Spencer, he probably would have offered to try to fix more things like this, even after the piano practically screamed at him not do it on his own, and got what he deserved in trying to do so. Maybe piano tuning, light bulb changing, and running the pantograph machines in the basement. Other dangerous things like that seemed something he would try just because he could. If they didn't have one of the younger boys working there go to change the lightbulbs or clean the windows, one of the more ambitious Columbia clan members would go to it, like Len Spencer or Russell Hunting, or maybe even Victor Emerson. Remember that this was the 1890's so there would be little kids(little boys) running around the studio rooms to do small practical jobs, like cleaning the windows, carrying around crates of cylinders, going to fetch things from wherever to bring to wherever, and cleaning up the studios, such as the supposed gilt mirrors they had in the exhibition parlor(that's stereotypical Victorian alright!). It is clear that they had electricians there, and since there was such a terrible mess of electrical there, they most certainly had more than one, other than Frank Capps. One thing that I wonder if they had there in parlor was the supposed fad of multicoloured light bulb displays. 

It has been said that many phonograph parlors had light bulb displays that weren't just yellow-ish or white, but were red, blue, green, violet, any colours that could be dyed into glass. Maybe every once in a while when exhibitions were held at Columbia, they changed out come of the light bulbs for red or blue ones, or something wild and somewhat psychedelic like that. If they ever did that, it certainly would have made it more of a spectacle than it already was.We know what those exhibitions were like, and the great picture I've used countless times explains it better than any descriptions I've found:
The recent finding of the three electric fans makes this picture even better. Just to refresh, I am going to attempt to point them out in this picture: one is at the very top of the rack to left of the column that cuts it almost in half, another is on the shelf just below it, immediately to the left of the column, and the third one is set on the piano platform just behind whoever's elbow that is standing next to AtLee in the center. You may notice that the fans were running when the picture was taken, as they're a bit blurry, and that adds a sense of charm to it that makes the picture seem ever more less staged than every other studio picture.

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

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

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

Now for some music! 

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


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

Ha! take that neo-Classical Joplin freaks! 

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

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


Keep yer ear-tubes runnin' out thar!




Hope you enjoyed this! 




Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Underhanded Music Dealing in the 1890's

The name Fred Hylands is mentioned very often on this blog, as he was not only a prominent studio pianist at the prime of the early Rag-Time era, but was also an important part of the comedic side of early Broadway. His name and influence fits into many subjects that go into this line of study. One of these subjects is the title of this post. The under-the-table dealing of music in the 1890's is a very understudied topic, as it simply wasn't written about often. One of these strategies that we have all heard of is handing a singer or performer an advance copy before the music is published, and surprisingly, this happened more than most people think. There weren't specific publishing firms that were begun by recording stars to unite the two parts of the music business, early on in the 1890's that is. 

One famous composer-phonograph singer friendship was
Monroe Rosenfeld and
Len Spencer.
Most people don't know about this friendship, since it was well-hidden, but advertised occasionally in earlier editions of The Phonoscope. We know of many composers that Spencer endorsed early on, but one of the first would logically be Rosenfeld and also Barney Fagan. Rosenfeld came first, since his early "negro dances" were so popular, he also wrote lyrics to these pre-ragtime pieces, many of which Spencer became well-known for recording. Many of Rosenfeld's pieces from the 1880's were minstrel songs with slightly syncopated melodies, and with that, Spencer was bound to make hundreds of rounds of any of them. When speaking of this, I mean early on in Spencer's recording days, in the era where he worked regularly with Issler's Orchestra, 1892 to 1896 that is. The solos he made during this time were done under pseudonyms for the most part, but he was still known as the prime coon song singer on phonograph records. With this fame, the composers and publishers took an interest in Spencer, and kept their ears open for a time to hand him an advance copy of a new song. This probably happened with Spencer a few times in the mid-1890's, though it's not well-documented, according to others in the business, it did happen with Dan Quinn and J. W. Myers. Quinn stated in some of his letters to Jim Walsh that publishers handed him songs before they were published to singer before all the others got to it,he claimed to be the first one to sing 

This great early Rag song with a very racist cover(typical for 1896...). 
I'm not sure whether to believe that Quinn was handed an advance copy of this in 1896, but it's not impossible. I would believe it more if he said that Spencer was the one who got it first. I have seen so many advertisements that mention Spencer's record of "The Bully" as being one of his best records, and the most popular as far as his individual records go.  This had to be so, since it was reported that Spencer was making rounds of this tune into early 1898. I don't know who was handed the advance copy first, even if Quinn stated that he was the one who got it first, not everything he said is to be trusted, remember. Other than Quinn's "Bully Song" statement, there wasn't much early music dealing in the era before 1897, though there was probably more than what we are presented in this matter. 

It took until the "rag" fad to spread in 1896 for music publishers and composers to take more of a direct interest in recording stars. New publishers such as Joseph Stern took in some of the most popular studio stars under Russell Hunting's obliging with the Universal Phonograph Company. Many of their advertisements are in editions of The Phonoscope, here is their earliest one:
This came from the January 1897 issue of The Phonoscope. 
Their ads were often in pieces of music published by Jos. Stern in 1897, of which I have one of these buried in my sheet music collection. They were usually small triangle-shaped things that said simply that the song this is on can be found on records made by the Universal Phonograph Company. That's perfect in illustrating this point of publisher and recording artist, so early on in the era as well. 1897 would be toward the beginning of this idea of uniting the two aspects of the music business, as most people think of this happening in the 1910's and 1920's, but in reality, it began in the late-1890's. The Universal Phonograph Company didn't last to see the end of 1897, but it proved that a publisher could join with a record company to sell music and make records. This quick venture for the Columbia staff got everyone thinking about beginning something else like that, but they needed a better publisher for the job.
Composers still remained friends of many studio stars, such as Barney Fagan and Len Spencer or Quinn and May Irwin. It took until Columbia threw out their old pianist in mid-1897 for this idea to resurface. Fred Hylands was not yet a publisher as we know, but the ideas were formulating. There weren't any reports of music being dealt under-the-table in 1897 and 1898 at Columbia and Edison, but by early late-1898 and early 1899, the staff had begged Hylands enough to begin a publishing firm, and so he did. He was exactly the kind of publisher that Columbia's staff wanted and needed, since he worked there, it all seemed to work perfectly. 

No one saw their finish of course. 

But that doesn't matter just yet, it was the perfect everything for Columbia. If you really want to talk about some severe under-the-table music dealing, Hylands Spencer and Yeager is the firm to study. 
Pretty much everything that Hylands published was given to someone as an advance copy before he published it. This was especially so with anything he wrote(durr...). The instrumental music was given out after publication, but not the vocal pieces. Hylands handed his "You Don't Stop the World from Goin Round" to Len Spencer before he published it, so they could record it first, then sell the music, and he also did this with his "Prize Cake-Walker is Old Uncle Sam", and he gave that one to Dan Quinn of all people(that's kind of strange if you think about it). The ladies that Fred took a liking to eventually were ones who got music before it was published, such as Ada Jones, Sallie Stembler, and some of his wife's friends in the performing business. As the firm began to fade by early 1900, Hylands stopped handing out advance copies, as someone might have told him to end his habit of doing that, or something else, I really don't know, but it seemed that he stopped doing that after the end of 1899. It was around this time that everyone involved saw their finish, or Fred's in this case since he was the one who was going to take the harshest blow after it fell through. After the firm's end in November 1900, the idea of publisher and recording star lost its novelty, and all the old Columbia stars didn't bother to associate themselves with specific publishers or composers any more after that. 
The second wave of studio stars adopted some of these ways, as many collectors are aware of the Collins and Harlan friendship with Theodore Morse, which lasted over a decade. Harlan had been part of Hylands' publishing firm, but after about five more years, Harlan was working not only with Collins, but found Theodore Morse a better asset than Hylands, which is many ways was a smart move on Collins and Harlan's part. This 1890's tradition carried on into the 1910's, 20's and even the 1930's in fact, and it seemed to become a much less hidden subject as the decades went on, making it not as sleazy and interesting as it was early on. 




*I just want to take a moment to send my love and regards to Tom Brier and his family, as he was recently in an awful car accident and will take many months to recover. We will miss you at Sutter Creek this weekend! Some of the soul of the festival is lost without Brier there.*


Hope you enjoyed this!