I'm back!
Again, I apologize about the long times in between postings, but things have kept me away from the joy of writing so often...It's been very rather eventful around here and emotionally consuming for me, but that's okay...I'm young, and need times as such to live fully.
Of the events that came down in recording and record world, I got to record on a brown wax cylinder! Thanks to my good friend Ryan Wishner, we made a deal where I would bring my pristine Amberol copy of "The Preacher and the Bear" by Collins(the famous take with the announcement at the beginning!), and he would give me the recording we made of me on brown wax. We managed to get a few cylinders recorded while at the Sutter Creek Rag-Time festival on August 11. As of just today, the cylinder looks like this:
Mine turned out to be the best blank to record on, since there were little to no issues, and the recording itself turned out wonderful, was the best in the batch I may add.
I wrote out the title abbreviated on the slip just like I've seen Spencer do on a few of his brown waxes.
To add to how lovely this record turned out, you can actually hear it!
Here you go folks:
I sent the recording to a few people without any description, and they were fooled into thinking it was actually by one of the studio pianists, or Hylands himself. This is not including the announcement of course. You know you've done it when people think you're the real deal! I've done it before, and would be happy to give lectures where I end up playing a transcribed solo of one of the studio pianists, and end up playing a brown wax of me playing and they wouldn't know the difference! The three of us who recorded brown waxes later performed at a set later at night where we actually played the records for the lucky people who attended the set. That absolutely mesmerized people, much like it would back in the 1890's.
There's Ryan presenting the machine and one of the recordings, in his 1900's vest. That's a photocopied Columbia catalog on the table.
The whole experience with the brown wax was completely worth it, and understanding the struggle of those studio pianists helps us better understand what they went through every day at work. To add to this new found understanding of recording, yesterday I spent six or seven hours recording for a CD I'll be releasing in the near future. After recording yesterday, I understood to a certain extent how tired Hylands must have been after every day at work. And to think that he would have to do that nearly every day, and for several hours longer than I recorded. He would usually have to be there at 8am and record until 3 in the afternoon, then a few hours later perform at an exhibition. What a life he lived...
I just couldn't imagine having to do that almost every day, and the days he didn't go to the studio, he'd be going to a few shows at other places in and around NYC.
Another thing to move to in the items of interest is that very catalog that was seen in the picture above. One of my friends sent me a very nice high quality photocopy of an 1898 Columbia catalog that he had recently acquired.
In the past, I have used a listing from 1900:
This catalog is rather nice, however, the photocopy of this one was not nearly as outstanding as the other catalog from two years earlier. The older catalog not only has a simpler cover, but the inside is must more tantalizing to even someone who wouldn't know much about the complicated nature of the company of Columbia.
But the inside of the cover was a sweet surprise! There was an interesting-looking version of the very contract that most of the Columbia stars signed in 1898.
Now that's an interesting group of signatures.
Will F. Denny's signature looks weird and as though it took a while to write out. Just as expected, Russell Hunting's looks lovely and efficient, almost as much as Spencer's always did. It is very curious that Denny's and Ossman's look unexpectedly strange. It seems we've got three potential lefties here...Ossman, Denny, and George W. Johnson. Hmm. How interesting...Of course that's just another one of my crazy theories, but there's always that possibility. In fact, if I was to guess who might be lefties in this group, I'd actually guess those three anyway, even without not knowing what their signatures looked like.
All over this catalog are titles that we'd all love to hear, and hope they exist somewhere. One of these is the "Tapioca Polka" which would be an elongated arrangement of the tune the Columbia orchestra plays at the end of this interesting descriptive selection. This tune "Tapioca" must be a civil war era jig, judging by the melodies of the piece, and how it's quick one. There are countless other titles that would be gems for sure. Also in this catalog, each performer whose name is on the inside of the cover is given a section with titles they've recorded. Of course, Spencer's section is very specific, with his Negro songs having the most specific categories from "Picanniny songs" to "old man negro songs", it's very complicated, more than we'd ever expect from such a subject of "Negro songs".
How specific need we get? Very it seems.
So his 1895 record of "Laugh You little Niggers" could be classified as a "picanniny song" which makes sense now. Since I could only see Spencer like the cartoon below while hearing him sing that song.
How lovely. What a beautiful sight it must have been to see him in such a costume.
(remember folks, this is satire at its best, I am not trying to be meaningfully offensive to anyone)
Anyway, we still have to await until many of these desired titles turn up on those unmarked brown waxes. A few of them are indeed making themselves be known, such as George Schweinfest playing "The Belle of Koon-Tucky", which you can hear at this link here. We will get to hear some of these selections, though it is inevitable that any may not exist, at least anymore.
Let me take a moment to say how wonderful that record in the link just above is...it's an outstanding example of true cake-walk music on brown wax, and it's an obscure but really strong and catchy piece, one that is arguably just as good as the Kerry Mills pieces from the same time. See, this is likely what will come out of digging up these cylinders. This is why we will continue to look.
While I was gone, I was able to read one of the many famous letters Quinn sent to Jim Walsh.
(Quinn in 1898)
His letter was rather short, only two pages long, but full of the usual of what to expect from reading only bits of his letters. Much of what he says includes lots of song references, some of which I actually haven't been able to understand! There's some slang, not too much to be really noticeable, and also very complicated and articulate phrasing. That sums him up pretty well, even for writing those letters when he was an old man with a fading memory. We of course already know that he was somewhat self-centered, from the way he phrased a lot of his writing, and how he talks about some of his old friends, but he was genuinely in love with what he did in the past, even though there seems to be something there to contradict that. In Quinn, after reading his letters(bits of others, and a single one the whole way through), I see a bit of repression, repression of things he did in the past, especially because he turned to a more religious point of view and didn't drink later in life. He had some shame in his past, despite speaking of his time in the studio fondly in his letters. There's certainly something there that we're not getting when we read his letters. It must have been interesting to know, whatever it was.
Speaking of letters...I also heard details about the LOC also housing letters that Charles Carson wrote while he was on his Eastern travels, which must be just as interesting as Gaisberg's travels in the same places. What I have heard to far about Carson's travels to China and Japan are rather funny to me. Somehow the idea of him complaining about his conditions while traveling is rather funny. It have this connotation because of Carson being the man who was thrown in jail with Hunting in 1896, and remained his friend until they were old and long retired. He remained in the east from 1904 to 1907, writing back and forth to Columbia and to his friends back home, which must have been great to read his complaints. It's so pointless of him to complain so much, since it was inevitable that conditions would be different in Asia than what he saw on the East coast, and later when he was in San Francisco(wait what! He was near where I am? Hot damn! that's great!). I'm sure he got used to it over time, he was there for three years, and almost as soon as he got back to the U.S., he quit recording altogether, which remains hilarious to me. He quit all recording to become a poultry farmer! How strange...I guess when you've had enough--you've had enough. Carson still remained an advisor to his friends at Columbia after then, since he lived another 40 or so years after that. From what I've heard about his letters, they must be fascinating to read, especially since they must be scattered with scathing language, since he had the right to be bitter about the supposedly crap records he was getting out of the equipment the Columbia boys shipped to him in Shanghai. He had the right to complain about the equipment issues, since he was the man who invented the pantographing machine in 1892, along with his buddy Russ. And he made all those smut cylinders as well as getting thrown in prison for it, and managed hundreds of recording sessions at Columbia from 1896 to 1900. Remember...his name was stamped on many hundreds of record slips. He had experience that was envied by 1900, so he had some reason to complain, since he set his own standards very high from the start of his time in recording with one of the most important recording devices since the phonautograph. With all of this new found curiosity in Carson, I would love to see a photograph of him if there is one anywhere. And of course, more importantly I would love to see those very letters that he wrote to Columbia while in China and Japan. I'd also like to know more about his relationship with Russell Hunting, since they remained good friends for their entire lives, it would be interesting to know how they fared while doing all the smut cylinder business from 1892 to 1896. Their trust must have been monumental for to be together for so long. They seem like a fantastic pair in that progressive era!
I don't want to keep rambling on about new stuff, but I ought to say that my next post will be on that great book A Voice in Time which is the biography of Fred Gaisberg that isn't his memoir. Since August 10, I have gotten over halfway through the book and am still captivated by the amount of stories and anecdotes from Gaisberg's travels. What an eventful life that man lived! Though it's interesting to see him evolve from a shy and less-than-confident teenager to a musically refined snob and intellectual. I would highly recommend the book! The detailed comments will be written in the next post.
All over this catalog are titles that we'd all love to hear, and hope they exist somewhere. One of these is the "Tapioca Polka" which would be an elongated arrangement of the tune the Columbia orchestra plays at the end of this interesting descriptive selection. This tune "Tapioca" must be a civil war era jig, judging by the melodies of the piece, and how it's quick one. There are countless other titles that would be gems for sure. Also in this catalog, each performer whose name is on the inside of the cover is given a section with titles they've recorded. Of course, Spencer's section is very specific, with his Negro songs having the most specific categories from "Picanniny songs" to "old man negro songs", it's very complicated, more than we'd ever expect from such a subject of "Negro songs".
So his 1895 record of "Laugh You little Niggers" could be classified as a "picanniny song" which makes sense now. Since I could only see Spencer like the cartoon below while hearing him sing that song.
(remember folks, this is satire at its best, I am not trying to be meaningfully offensive to anyone)
Anyway, we still have to await until many of these desired titles turn up on those unmarked brown waxes. A few of them are indeed making themselves be known, such as George Schweinfest playing "The Belle of Koon-Tucky", which you can hear at this link here. We will get to hear some of these selections, though it is inevitable that any may not exist, at least anymore.
Let me take a moment to say how wonderful that record in the link just above is...it's an outstanding example of true cake-walk music on brown wax, and it's an obscure but really strong and catchy piece, one that is arguably just as good as the Kerry Mills pieces from the same time. See, this is likely what will come out of digging up these cylinders. This is why we will continue to look.
While I was gone, I was able to read one of the many famous letters Quinn sent to Jim Walsh.
His letter was rather short, only two pages long, but full of the usual of what to expect from reading only bits of his letters. Much of what he says includes lots of song references, some of which I actually haven't been able to understand! There's some slang, not too much to be really noticeable, and also very complicated and articulate phrasing. That sums him up pretty well, even for writing those letters when he was an old man with a fading memory. We of course already know that he was somewhat self-centered, from the way he phrased a lot of his writing, and how he talks about some of his old friends, but he was genuinely in love with what he did in the past, even though there seems to be something there to contradict that. In Quinn, after reading his letters(bits of others, and a single one the whole way through), I see a bit of repression, repression of things he did in the past, especially because he turned to a more religious point of view and didn't drink later in life. He had some shame in his past, despite speaking of his time in the studio fondly in his letters. There's certainly something there that we're not getting when we read his letters. It must have been interesting to know, whatever it was.
Speaking of letters...I also heard details about the LOC also housing letters that Charles Carson wrote while he was on his Eastern travels, which must be just as interesting as Gaisberg's travels in the same places. What I have heard to far about Carson's travels to China and Japan are rather funny to me. Somehow the idea of him complaining about his conditions while traveling is rather funny. It have this connotation because of Carson being the man who was thrown in jail with Hunting in 1896, and remained his friend until they were old and long retired. He remained in the east from 1904 to 1907, writing back and forth to Columbia and to his friends back home, which must have been great to read his complaints. It's so pointless of him to complain so much, since it was inevitable that conditions would be different in Asia than what he saw on the East coast, and later when he was in San Francisco(wait what! He was near where I am? Hot damn! that's great!). I'm sure he got used to it over time, he was there for three years, and almost as soon as he got back to the U.S., he quit recording altogether, which remains hilarious to me. He quit all recording to become a poultry farmer! How strange...I guess when you've had enough--you've had enough. Carson still remained an advisor to his friends at Columbia after then, since he lived another 40 or so years after that. From what I've heard about his letters, they must be fascinating to read, especially since they must be scattered with scathing language, since he had the right to be bitter about the supposedly crap records he was getting out of the equipment the Columbia boys shipped to him in Shanghai. He had the right to complain about the equipment issues, since he was the man who invented the pantographing machine in 1892, along with his buddy Russ. And he made all those smut cylinders as well as getting thrown in prison for it, and managed hundreds of recording sessions at Columbia from 1896 to 1900. Remember...his name was stamped on many hundreds of record slips. He had experience that was envied by 1900, so he had some reason to complain, since he set his own standards very high from the start of his time in recording with one of the most important recording devices since the phonautograph. With all of this new found curiosity in Carson, I would love to see a photograph of him if there is one anywhere. And of course, more importantly I would love to see those very letters that he wrote to Columbia while in China and Japan. I'd also like to know more about his relationship with Russell Hunting, since they remained good friends for their entire lives, it would be interesting to know how they fared while doing all the smut cylinder business from 1892 to 1896. Their trust must have been monumental for to be together for so long. They seem like a fantastic pair in that progressive era!
I don't want to keep rambling on about new stuff, but I ought to say that my next post will be on that great book A Voice in Time which is the biography of Fred Gaisberg that isn't his memoir. Since August 10, I have gotten over halfway through the book and am still captivated by the amount of stories and anecdotes from Gaisberg's travels. What an eventful life that man lived! Though it's interesting to see him evolve from a shy and less-than-confident teenager to a musically refined snob and intellectual. I would highly recommend the book! The detailed comments will be written in the next post.
Okay, this time I mean it, i'll be getting back to normal by writing every day to few days, since there's so much more new information to gather and write detailed posts about, with that, I hope you enjoyed this!
