Showing posts with label The Columbia orchestra. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Columbia orchestra. Show all posts

Monday, March 25, 2019

Piecing together Justin Ring

As with any of these new characters I research, it can be a very difficult start. It has actually been not too difficult to find information on Eddie King, but somehow Justin Ring seems to be the opposite. 
As long as this foxy guy lived, there's little information to dig  through on him. He's mentioned all over the place in newspapers and trade magazines, but there's not much substance to the places he's found. Unlike with Hager, where Ring's mentioned, he's only, well...mentioned. There's not much more. As I have become ever more attracted to Ring's music and lifestyle, finding any vital information on him has become a great source of frustration for me. I just can't seem to track him during the most essential period of time that I'm trying to dig on. 
He's easy to track after 1910 or so, but as you readers would know, I'm trying to piece together his lifestyle while he was at Zon-O-Phone. I have found next to nothing on my searches for Ring before 1910. All of the things I've found on him pre-1910 were solely regarding the pieces of his that were recorded or published by Hager. 
Well that's all great, but I want to know about how he lived outside of the studio. Since I have't been able to trace him in any local New York directories or censuses, I would guess that he lived in a basement or a loft of a publisher. This is the situation as to why George W. Johnson can't be found in many public records. I also have a feeling that this applies to why I have not been able to find Len Spencer in the 1900 census. 
As I'm writing this, I did a little bit of digging for Ring in copyright records, just to see how far back I can track him. The first things start to appear with his long poetic name starting in 1902, which is quite late from what I had expected. The first few things I saw however were very interesting. One of the first things I saw was a piece that was composed by Ring(Ringleben in this case) with lyrics by Cal Stewart. Yes indeed, you heard me right. Good old Uncle Josh. 
Cal Stewart not in his Uncle Josh rags. 
What's ever more interesting about these two first pieces I found with Ring's name on them is that they were published by Hager and Ring. The two of them were publishers for a short time! How interesting. While this is not at all surprising, it does add some kind of added layer of curiosity in the beginning of their nearly 50 year long relationship. Hager did not stay a publisher with Ring for long, as I quickly observed on this copyright record dig. But Ring stayed put as a publisher for a little longer. His vanity firm lasted until about the end of 1904, publishing a few things here and there, such as Hager's "Handsome Harry" and his own "Jovial Joe". 
Another interesting observation on this dig was how Ring kept his long poetic name until quite late. I assumed that he took the short version of his name Justin Ring, almost as soon as he joined Hager at Zon-O-phone. On the contrary, Ring kept the Justus Ringleben Jr on his music until 1905. Only by the time he wrote "Sweet Potatoes" in 1906 do we see slight edits to his name. Even at that point his name is seen as Justin Ringleben on the cover, which isn't too different from the previous covers. It's interesting that it took a little bit of evolution for Justus Ringleben Jr to become Justin Ring. I would guess that Hager was insistent on Ring getting his name a bit more snappy on the music, as he seemed constant with the idea of using his full name on their sheets. 

So, aside from all that, my biggest question is, what was Ring doing when he got scooped up by Columbia and Zon-O-phone? Well, since I can't seem to track him at all before 1902, he must have literally lived the life of a young and hot rambler. You know how the song goes, O, didn't he ramble. 
I'll have a conveniently dated Columbia by Collins and Harlan illustrate my point here:
(the pianist is good old Hylands!)
There we go! well, kind of. 
I'd hate to assume that Ring entirely lived that lifestyle, as he lived to be an old man(older than Hager), but it seems the most logical thing to say in considering his freedom and little guidance in life. 
Consider what I know so far about Ring other than the recording stuff. His father was quite old(like Banta's father!), born in Prussia in 1826. His father married a woman half his age in his middle age, having his first son Justin(or Justus) at age 50. Justin's siblings were born later, brother Franz in 1878, and half sister Rose born in 1880. Justin's odd father was a musician, a struggling one it seems from what I gathered from the single census and a few directories I found. So from all of this, I can see Justin and Franz having little supervision. Despite the limited supervision, the boys grew up around music, so naturally at least one of them would become the musician to follow their father. This was naturally Justin, who had his father's name after all. 

That whole story seems intriguing as it is. But there's this huge gap that I'm trying to fill. From about 1890 to 1902, I have no idea what Justin was up to. Maybe he went to music school? Maybe he lived as a rambler until Hager pulled him out of that life and into the studio. So who knows?

While I was digging around, I also went back and looked at that large group picture of Hager's orchestra just because I often do. I noticed something interesting while staring at that picture again. 
I zoomed in to where Justin Ring is of course, seeing if I can notice anything new about him or that interesting crowd right around him. 
Something seemed off when I darkened the picture.
Is that a bruise I see? 
What could that mean? The guy already looks rough, with those sunken tired eyes and thin face. Luckily he could still out-dandy the others with his wild cravat and blond hair. 
But again, what could this mean? Maybe I'm missing something that's more obvious than previously thought. Perhaps something really disturbing regarding him. Well, at this point I have no idea what it could be, and I have no guesses yet. I wish I had some of my signature crazy theories to explain here, but I'd rather not considering the possibilities in this case. Sometime soon I might figure out some ideas of what to say regarding this, but I'll have to judge whether they would be appropriate to share. 


So anyway...I actually would like to revert back to my post a month or so ago regarding Justin Ring's employment for multiple record companies. So I went back and did some staring at that Columbia band(or orchestra) picture from around 1902, just to be assured that that one young guy is Justin Ring. 
The more I look at it, the more I think it's Justin Ring. 
Just today, I went back and listened to more than a dozen Columbia orchestra records, to see what i could decipher of the piano accompaniment. I paired these Columbias from 1902-1905 with Zon-O-Phone's from 1901-1906, and there's definitely some crossover. Not only did I hear the distinct pushy syncopation of Ring in the accompaniment, I could also hear some familiar bad violin playing. By bad violin playing, I mean that of Hager. Three good examples I plowed through today were these: 



These three stuck out because the piano is quite prominent, and especially on the last one, the violin comes through somewhat. The Columbia orchestra varied in overall musical quality during this short period, and I am still unsure why. Sometimes they were outstanding, other times they were a mess like the third record listed above. 
Before i say any more, here's my favorite line from that song:

"He's gifted with a whistle that is bound to give him pains, in fact he's like an injun on cocaine"

Quite funny still. I recall years ago using this record as an example for something else thinking it was funny then just as I do now. 
So I listened to a bunch more, In fact, I compared these two records back to back and noticed some striking similarities: 
(notice how the trio is quite swung and improvised, I would bet money that's the doing of Ring. And yes this is the only recording of dozens I've heard where it was played like that. It's quite ragged actually.)
and of course Justin Ring's cake-walk masterpiece that all the studio orchestras recorded. 
So the more of these Columbias I listen to from the post-Hylands period, the more I believe that Justin Ring worked for Columbia and Zon-O-Phone at the same time. It also seems possible that Ring may have been part of the reason that the Columbia orchestra and band recorded so many pieces of classic rag-time in that period(1902-1906). It's curious to note that this also happened at Zon-O-phone in this period(before Eddie King and Ring basically took over Zono in 1909). I mean, doesn't it seem odd that the Columbia orchestra recorded "harmony mose", "peaceful henry", and "Whoa You heiffer"(A hot New Orleans rag published in 1904) between 1902 and 1906? And after that, Prince only took on more basic pieces of rag-time, like "tempation rag" and "Silver bell". 
Similarly, but not surprisingly at Zon-O-phone Hager and Ring recorded pieces like "Cottonfield capers", "The gondolier", "a black bawl"(a chicago slow drag rag by Harry Thompson. Take a listen here!), and "Policy Pete"(a hot cake-walk ). 
So with all this in mind, there's no way that Ring couldn't have been partially the reason for all this really outstanding rag-time. 
Took this picture while at UCSB. This record is some really nice hot rag-time I tell you what! Played at the right slow speed, it's rendered at a perfect cake-walk tempo. 
So I'll have to look more into Ring's actual influence over the influx of classic rag-time at Columbia and Zon-O-Phone(and later edison mind you, they recorded Panama rag! Hear the Edison rendition of it here!) 
I guess I'll leave it here. I need to get another post in by the end of the week, because it's a certain someone's birthday. 

Anyway, hopefully I'll soon find more on Justin Ring, last night was another one of a dozen or so attempts to find him in early census records on ancestry. 

Not much luck, but I am not deterred! I am determined. 




Hope you enjoyed this! 











Tuesday, February 19, 2019

The Phonographic Threesome

In keeping with a similar theme to the Eddie King post, I have potentially dug something up that will impact a large portion of my record listening. 

To begin, here's this picture:
It seems like forever since I've used this curious group picture. As you can see, at the very bottom this funny group of musicians is The Columbia band(or orchestra) led by Charles Prince. Last evening, something struck me to remember seeing this picture years ago, and at that I dug it up from the depths of my computer. I stared at it long because I wanted to see if I could recognize any faces from this photo compared to the Hager's orchestra picture from around the same time. I stared back and forth at the two pictures for over an hour, trying to see if I could pick out familiar faces. Now in the end, this proved to be a great idea. A long while ago when I first saved the picture, I recognized Frank Mazziotta right away. 
Mazziotta as pictured in The Phonoscope 
And Mazziotta in the group picture above. 
That's definitely Mazziotta, no debates there. We know definitively that Mazziotta was identified in the Hager's orchestra picture:
There he is!
So that was easy enough, and it does indeed make sense that he be in that Columbia group picture. 
But is there anyone else I could pick out? Well, in referring to the title of this post, one particular fella in the Columbia group picture looks extremely familiar. Up in the right corner of the picture, there's this one guy who quite naturally sticks out because of his obvious age difference. 
Who is that?
That face looks awfully familiar. After I looked closely at that face, it hit me, that's likely Justin Ring! So what does this mean? This is a game changer. 
Just the mere fact that he's in that Columbia band(or orchestra) picture proves that Hager and Ring had a hand in every active major company in the era before 1910. But this also means even more. If Ring was working for Columbia around 1902-1903(the approximate date of the Columbia band/orchestra picture), then he was likely the pianist that succeeded, and likely worked alongside, Hylands.
Now I do not know if this guy is Ring or not, but I did do a lot of staring at the other pictures of him:
This of course is from the c.1902 portrait of Hager's orchestra. 
Ring at Okeh, c.1921.
Hager and Ring, c.1902.
So if this hot young sport in the Columbia band(or orchestra) is Ring, this means that much of the Columbia piano accompaniments beginning around 1902 were becoming more of Ring's. Around 1902, there was a shift in pianists at Columbia, as the whole Climax scandal forced some serious changes to be made. From many examples I've heard, Hylands was indeed still working at Columbia as late as 1904, but more often we hear another pianist who sounds somewhat like Hylands, but with a sort of style that was heard on Zon-O-Phone at the same time. 
How can I back up this idea that this guy is Ring?
Well, after I realized who that probably is, I went back and listened to a lot of Columbia orchestra records from 1902-1904, and I noticed a few things. Let's start with some material Columbia recorded in this period, a few of these things were suspiciously related to Ring. 
There's his famous piece!
At around exactly the same time, this piece was recorded for Zon-O-Phone, as well as Edison. Here are the two other versions:


What's so curious about all three versions is that they all have even the same feel and aggressive rhythm that I associate with Ring. It's almost like he was present at each session(sounding suspicious yet?). Another Ring piece that I've seen a lot of crossover with is his "Scarecrow dance", of which is was recorded on each of the labels mentioned. 

From my recent research travels, I got to hear the first recording of "The scarecrow dance": 
So this is quite a lot of crossover, more than what was usual in the era. Usually we wouldn't associate this much crossover within three competing companies that swore to the public that they hadn't anything to do with each other. When I went back and listened to about a dozen Columbia's from 1902-1904, I noticed that around that time there was some shockingly hot rag-time recorded by them. The Columbia orchestra wasn't really known for playing hot rag-time pieces, odd to say as such, because they had Hylands there for that crucial time. Around 1901-1902, the Columbia orchestra and band began to record some classic rag-time, such as and instrumental of "Coon coon coon","Peaceful Henry", and J. Bodewalt Lampe's "Dixie Girl". 
Listen to this here:
(it's not performed by Hager's orchestra, haha, maybe it is if you count Ring's presence  *wink wink*)
This surge of rag-time repertoire also seemed to hit the accompaniments of this time at Columbia too, and in a way that wasn't as antiquated or banjo-centric as Hylands'. It's the progressive kind, the hot and bluesy kind. Even as late as 1905 that distinct aggressive accompaniment remained at Columbia, take this record for example:
Now I am almost certain that that pianist on Dockstader's Columbia's is Ring, mostly because of Ring's connection to the publisher of "Everybody works but father". Remember that Hager published "Everybody works but father". 

Even though Ring is likely that other Columbia pianist post-1902, there are indeed exceptions where I'm sure the pianist is Hylands, despite the obvious Hager-Ring influence. A great group of late Hylands records are Joe Belmont's solos from 1902-1903. Those definitely have the distinct antiquated Hylands touch of the late-1890's. Here are a few for reference:
The dead give away on this record that its Hylands is that distinct ending. It sticks out and is as unique as his fingerprint. That walking bass outro I've heard on dozens of Columbia's from 1897-1903. 


So now I have a basic outline for the pianist cutoff for Columbia, and that's the end of 1902. Around the beginning of 1903, that's when Justin Ring(or if not Ring, just someone else) stepped in for worn out old Hylands. The 1903 cutoff date actually lines up really well with what I've done on my tracking of Hylands' locations by date. Before 1903, Hylands stayed in and around New York for the most part, and in 1903 he took the position as music director at the Majestic Theatre in Boston. He remained tied up with the folks in Boston until 1904, when he began writing his musical flop The Yankee Doodle Girl as well as his more successful The Beauty Doctor. So everything works out quite well with this Hylands thing. Also, I have finally come to a pretty solid idea that Hylands began working at Columbia in early 1897, but I'll get back to that later.



So, what about this Ring deal? If that is indeed Ring in that Columbia group portrait, that means Ring was working for three companies at the same time; Zon-O-phone, Columbia, and Edison. And it's important to wonder whether he was actually able to pull this off. Well, in 1901, the whole Climax-Columbia thing did allow for Hager and Ring to work for Columbia, Zon-O-Phone, and Climax all at the same time. So even after the Climax bust in 1902, it was possible to work for a company threesome. Indeed Ring had the ability to handle all this, because he hadn't any responsibilities at home, by that I mean he didn't have a wife and kids and in-laws to tend to. He had plenty of free time on his hands, as he was young and ambitious as well as industrious, all the qualities that a performer working for multiple phonographs would need. Hager was somehow less connected to Columbia, though he must have had some deal with them as he had many of his musicians record in their orchestra(Ring included). 

So I really hope that's Ring in that group picture. That would actually solve a lot of issues I've had with accompaniments on Columbia after 1902. Awhile back, I had this idea that one of those Zon-O-Phone pianists sounded an awful lot like the post-Hylands Columbia pianist, and if it is indeed Ring in that picture, that would pretty much prove this theory once and for all. 







So a little farther up in this post I mentioned that I have a pretty solid idea of Hylands' term of Columbia. For years I have been puzzled whether or not Hylands started at Columbia in 1897, but it seems pretty evident now that he did. I have been hearing more Columbia's from 1897 recently, and have had more time to really dissect the accompaniments on them, also because I have been going back occasionally to make sure I know which pianist is Hylands. Just to circulate the image some more, here's that infamous Columbia studio picture from 1897:
Despite every one's still peeved opinions, I still think that pianist is Hylands as he looked when Columbia hired him in early 1897. 
Anyway, i listened to a handful of 1897 Columbia's recently to cross reference them with the later Hylands accompaniments, and they seemed to line up perfectly. 
I am convinced Hylands was on more "...New York City" announced Columbia's than previously thought. The NYC announcement was phased out by the middle of 1897, so the dates do work out quite well with the emergence of queer syncopation on Columbia records. Here are three good examples:


All three of these records are NYC announced Columbia's, so they all date from early to mid 1897. I made sure to cross reference Indiana-Ohio rags published around the same time to be assured that the styles line up just enough, and they do. Here are two:

In the first record example I used, note how eccentric and broken the syncopation is. It's just as accurate as the two rags listed directly above. And to further cross reference, I used Columbia's from 1898-99 that I know have that distinct Hylands "rag-time" accompaniment that the boys at The Phonoscope so avidly solicited. 



There's that Cincinnati swing we all know!

Before I finish off, a few things I've been noticing very clearly with Hager and Ring's accompaniments, is that they definitely listened to Hylands' accompaniments. Both Hager and Ring played that walking bass that Hylands played naturally so often, and even took bits of the Cincinnati stylings that one would only pick up if they really studied the records. 

I have no idea what i might write about next, so stay tuned folks! 


Hope you enjoyed this!


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, February 23, 2017

Studios in the Public eye

Ofttimes, it would strike us collectors to wonder what the general public perceived of the strange place that was the Phonograph studio. In the timer period, it actually isn't too hard to find sections from magazines and newspapers about this strange new industry. Much like how electricity was such a nationwide fascination in the 1880's and 1890', the recording business could be categorized in such a way as other new inventions and novelties were. These magazine and newspaper articles often tried to not impose any bias to record companies in their articles, as that would often spark some uneasiness between the competing companies. Unlike The Phonogram and Phonoscope, the unbiased nature of these sections was essential, an this is why we get infernal images like this one: 
Ones like this that haven't any labels or anything to go along with it, the damn articles leave us hanging to fight over who the pianist and singers are(to most it would be the singers, the pianist means nothing to most collectors...). The dodging of bias is all-right when considering magazines like The Phonoscope, but it's frustrating because we end up with unlabeled images. Now that section that the infamous image above came from was obviously talking about Columbia more than anything else, since it used Columbia images for the article. Keep in mind that the image on the cover page of the article is this one: 
Now we know that image can't be of the Edison studio. That pianist is obviously Fred Hylands. It doesn't help that both of the images have the same interesting wallpaper behind all the musicians and such. In fact, it's likely that these pictures were taken in EXACTLY THE SAME room, which is very odd, but if you really study the images, you can see it. 

Now what did the general public think of the studio? Let's stick with Columbia here, since most of the papers who wrote about studios were indirectly writing about Columbia rather than Edison(come on, everyone knew about Edison already...). Well, to start, the papers used to say it was much like a cross between "the rear of a theater and a machine shop", which does sum it up rather well, but that's only the appearance. They missed much of the odd social atmosphere that came along with this new community. The public generally saw these studio workers as eccentrics(which wasn't inaccurate), this is the record talent I'm referring to here. The studio laborers, such as engineers like Charles Carson and Georgie Emerson, were the more respectable of the bunch, since they worked with machinery and were often products of telegraph and telephone jobs in the 1880's. The record talent were, as we know, a weird bunch of freak musicians and performers, that were often questioned about what they thought of the business, and why they worked there in the first place. Of course, the lovely and infamous exhibition is where the freaks of the studio and the public were able to converse. 
There are countless articles and stories published in the pages of The Phonoscope about interactions between all sorts of people and the exhibitors. This seemed to be a popular subject in The Phonoscope, for the entirety of its existence. Without a doubt, these little stories about exhibitions are among the most interesting examples of writing in the magazine, most of them being in the Our Tattler column. Some of them(many of them actually) are somewhat racist, portraying Black and Asian people in stereotypical ways for the era, but are still funny by the humor that is being projected, despite the racism. The reactions of those described are really what the correspondents and writers for The Phonoscope were intending to sketch. One thing that would have been really funny to do is if they asked each of the recording stars(including engineers and pianists) what their first experience with the phonograph was like. That would prompt some interesting and exceedingly diverse points of view, certainly would make for some good reading! There are little hints of what these stars did in their earliest days in the business, but not exactly stories of how they started. From knowing Dan Quinn's first experience with the phonograph, this ought to spark curiosity of other stories. 

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

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

Oddly enough, describing what people would have thought of all this reminds me of the hilarious descriptive selection the Columbia Orchestra did called "On the Midway", because it kind of sums up 1890's Columbia in a nutshell, even for someone who wasn't a regular Columbia customer or enthusiast could have understood their atmosphere when listening to this record alone: 
The fact that they spend almost a minute on the "hoochie coochie" dance part is really funny, because the Issler original from 1894 didn't even do that. The vibe of the 1898 recording is certainly looser, and much more playful. By 1898, people got a very different view of Columbia than if they had gone to an exhibition of the U.S. Phonograph Company(remember that they essentially fell and became Columbia in 1897) in 1895, or even as late as 1896. Just because I'm listening to it as I'm writing this section, here's the original 1894 Issler's orchestra recording of "On the Midway": 
Also, I didn't notice this until listening to is now, but there's some audible humming of the tune at the dance part at the end, and it sounds like it's probably Issler! Wow, something about that image is very strange. What's funny is that if Issler and his orchestra ever performed this sketch and all dressed up for it, Issler would have genuinely looked Arab. 
Yep, he could have fooled the audience as an Arab just as well as Spencer did as a dandy black man. 
Imagining the rest of the orchestra dressed up for this is just as funny. Just go back and look at that picture from the record catalogs showing images of all the Issler members around 1894. 
Include Len Spencer in this as well, since he did all the sound effects! 
Anyway, with all of this, it's safe to assume that the general public was fascinated with the early recording studio, as well as those who worked there, from the earliest days. Though in the earliest days(1888-1895), the public wasn't really able to fully immerse themselves in the world that was recording, since in that time only large scale demonstrations were done, rather than just exhibitions at the studios themselves. Of course, Edison never did such a thing(invite regular people in the studio to observe the recording process), even when doing this was fully in style. The fact that Columbia did this in their studio is another reason why they really were the company of the people, and were more inviting than Edison. Despite an incompetent recording manager(Vic Emerson), Columbia was the place where musicians were better treated, and had more freedom, thanks to Emerson being musically ignorant and tone-deaf, we get all sorts of strange takes with mistakes all over the place, of which we continue to find 120 years later. We must keep in mind that we are much more aware of the inner workings of the business than the general public was in the era itself, so we are not nearly as nearsighted they the listeners when the records were new. When you get right down to it, we know more about what we're hearing than most did who heard the records when they were new. 






Now to move to something a little different. Last evening, while listening to some records with Charlie Judkins, we listened to a bunch of Zon-O-Phone's with Hager on piano, since those are always fit when talking about early recorded Rag-Time. But other than that, we also came across a FANTASTIC 1905 Columbia with Lew Dokstader singing! 
(Geo.Primrose is seated and Dockstader is standing, image dated 1898)
Most of us have stumbled across sheet music with Dockstader on the cover, since he was on countless coon song covers, and have read often of his famous minstrel troupe. Many famous early rag pianists held the place of Dockstader's pianist, such as Mike Bernard and Les Copeland, but often us studio pianist scholars would wonder if any of the studio pianists held this place, well, we're in luck! 
This 1905 Columbia(also issued on Standard as I've heard) by Dockstader of "Everybody Works but Father" is a prime example of not just Dockstader, bu also of Hylands when he accompanied stage stars(solely stage stars, not minor ones like Quinn or Ossman, ones who were so famous not to be regulars in the studio). Dockstader was one of these huge celebrities in performing at this time, and luckily, he left a few recordings along the way like May Irwin and Clarice Vance. Before I get into detail, here's the 1905 Columbia: 
You can easily tell that Dockstader was really loud, hence the reason he's standing rather far away from the horn. 
This is one of those records where Hylands must have gotten all warm and fuzzy to accompany such a celebrity on a recording. He had likely already worked with Dockstader, so it must have been like when Hylands and Harlan were reunited in the studio in 1901, though of course meeting Dockstader again was a little less than the more casual atmosphere of seeing Harlan once more.

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




Hope you enjoyed this!