Studies of other black bands of the period confirm that many now understandably celebrated for their contributions to big band jazz, as documented by their recordings and personal testimonies, tended to resemble Kirk’s definition of a “dance orchestra” when performing live, and nowhere would this be more true than on the road.
Consider the testimony of former members and observers of several black bands, all of which played in West Virginia for black audiences in the 1930s. Concerning Fletcher Henderson’s orchestra in its final years, reed man Russell Procope recalled that it “played tangos, waltzes, foxtrots, college songs, current hits, excerpts from the classics in dance tempos, just about everything.” Henderson biographer Jeffrey Magee noted that “for Procope that kind of versatility marked success” (Magee 2005, 138). In an interview with Stanley Dance in 1966, pianist/arranger Nat Pierce recalled hearing that Chick Webb “had a library of waltzes.” Furthermore, he asserted that “It wasn’t a crime to play a waltz then—not just a jazz waltz, but a regular waltz with a pretty melody” (Dance 1974, 343–44).
A territory band based in Indianapolis and later Cincinnati, Speed Webb’s band returned several times to play for dances on the campus of West Virginia State College. A member in 1929 and 1930, trombonist Vic Dickenson remembered that “Seven guys arranged in that band,... and every week we had seven new arrangements. Of course, we played everything in the way of dance music in those days—waltzes, pop songs, everything” (Dance 1974, 303). Given that the socially conservative president of West Virginia State, John Davis, reportedly frowned on dancing, certainly of the more physical and demonstrative types such as the Lindy Hop, and given the fact that by the later 1930s Webb’s interest in the band business was waning, it is logical to suppose that commercial stock arrangements of waltzes and pop songs in moderate tempos dominated his band’s performances on campus and thus met “Prex” Davis’s expectations (Belmear 2000; Scheidt 1965, 52).
Perhaps the clearest evidence of black bands’ capacity to step outside the domain of jazz during dance dates was provided by none other than Duke Ellington himself during an engagement at the Crystal Ballroom in Fargo, North Dakota, on November 7, 1940, most of which was recorded by two local fans of the band, Jack Towers and Dick Burris. Not only did their initiative enable us to hear that band live, it also revealed Ellington’s careful use of a thirty-minute sustaining radio broadcast early in the evening to showcase his music as well as well as the band’s versatility, not only for listeners but also for those attending the dance itself.
The broadcast presented a total of seven arrangements, five by Ellington and his band members and two by other composers. After playing a portion of his “Sepia Panorama” as background music for the radio announcer’s introduction of the band to listeners of Fargo’s local station, KVOX, and to announce the first number, the band swung into its recently recorded, but not yet released, blues-based uptempo jazz number “Koko,” a showcase for the timbres and talents of trombonists Juan Tizol and Lawrence Brown.
If “Koko” could be regarded as representing the “hot” jazz end of the spectrum of dance music styles, what followed took listeners to the other extreme. “There Shall Be No Night,” composed in 1940 by Abner Silver with lyrics by Gladys Shelly, could be regarded as Ellington’s take on Guy Lombardo’s sweet style. The tempo is slow; the brass and reed sections play in close harmony and quietly; Jimmy Blanton’s bass beats four-to-the-bar. The solo passages by muted trumpet and, toward the end, Ben Webster’s distinctive tenor saxophone are, at most, light paraphrases of the song’s melodies. In other words, there were none of the “fancy embellishments” that Lombardo avoided in his band’s arrangements. The sentimental lyrics were crooned by Herb Jeffries, who might be said to be the Ellington Orchestra’s equivalent of Pha Terrill, Andy Kirk’s singer whose recording of the ballad “Until the Real Thing Comes Along” was such an unexpected hit with black audiences.
Four Ellington compositions followed this ballad: “Pussy Willow,” “Chatterbox,” “Mood Indigo,” and “Harlem Airshaft.” Of these, “Mood Indigo” was the only piece in a slow tempo comparable to that of “There Shall Be No Night.” The rest were mid- to uptempo fox-trot/Lindy Hop arrangements. Ivie Anderson then appeared to sing a chorus of a fore-shortened arrangement in Ellington’s style of “Ferryboat Serenade.” After that “Warm Valley” served as background to the radio announcer’s signing off “and returning [listeners] to our studios.” Thereafter, the music continued through four sets, the dance ending around 1:00 a.m. on November 8.
Later that evening Jeffries returned to sing another pair of songs coupled into a medley. The recording captures only a portion of the second of these songs, the arrangement of which appeared to be on the sweet side, but considering the entire performance it seems apparent that the Fargo crowd did not need Ellington to step outside his own style to satisfy its musical tastes. The performance of “Mood Indigo” probably assured any doubters that if they wanted a slow, quiet number during which “to offer an endearment” à la Guy Lombardo, Ellington could accommodate them on his own aesthetic terms.
Surely his strategy for determining the best music to play for a particular audience, in operation at the dance in North Dakota, had been regularly used on the road for a number of years, including the three occasions on which he performed in West Virginia. The first occurred late in March 1935, and according to James West, Fairmont correspondent to the Pittsburgh Courier, “a large group of local dance lovers motored to Charleston to dance to the music of Duke Ellington and his famous orchestra” (PC 3.30.35, 2/7). On April 19 of the same year, on the evening following an engagement in Cincinnati, the band made its first appearance in the northern part of the Mountain State, playing at the Fairmont armory. The article in the Courier informing readers of this occasion claimed that “This affair looms as the ‘biggest affair of the season’ and it is expected that hundreds of people from surrounding towns will help to make of the affair a howling success” (PC 4.13.35, 2/8). On Christmas Eve 1937, Ellington returned to Charleston to play for a benefit dance sponsored by the 20th Century Athletic Club to raise funds to buy Christmas presents for disabled children in six counties in southern West Virginia. The Courier’s story also noted that the bandleader was entertained the previous night by, among others, LeRoy “Texas” Fonteneau. It will be recalled that Fonteneau was one of the Kings of Amusement who collaborated with George Morton in booking dances. That same article drew attention to the fact that the 20th Century Athletic Club was holding a New Year’s Day dance on January 1, 1938, for which Chick Webb had been booked along with “the captivating songbird, Ella Fitzgerald” (PC 1.1.38, 2/12).
It is by virtue of the Fargo recordings that Ellington enters this narrative to demonstrate the requisite diversity of style that audiences on the road expected. There is no doubt that the bandleader who made such diversity a cornerstone of his style (or perhaps, under these circumstances, “styles”) was Jimmie Lunceford.
In Rhythm Is Our Business: Jimmie Lunceford and the Harlem Express, Eddy Determeyer argued that “the ability to play romantic ballads next to novelty numbers and hard-swinging killer-dillers or flag-wavers put the Lunceford band in the vanguard with both the dancers and the listeners” (Determeyer 2006, 87). Two elements of this statement merit comment. The first is the implicit inclusion of several styles of music performed by Lunceford’s band. In a passage from The Swing Era, Gunther Schuller reflected on the realities of life for black dance bands in the 1930s when it came to deciding what sort of music to play and what to avoid. In comparing Lunceford to Ellington and Basie in terms of balancing artistic and economic interests, he observed:
They all made their peace with compromise of one kind or another. Thus the real and only valid criterion of judgment is to what degree economic and commercial pressures made inroads on artistic/aesthetic decisions—not whether, but how much.... In that regard I think the Lunceford band, at least in its early days and perhaps through the 1930s, could
hold its own with any of its contemporaries [including Ellington and Basie]. As previously stated, the Lunceford formula—his and his soloists’ and arrangers’—was to serve up a diversified musical menu for a variety of appetites. (Schuller 1989, 213)
Evidence of that “diversified musical menu” was discussed in chapter 6 in connection with Lunceford’s first engagement in the Mountain State in September 1934 at the Fairmont armory. Seventeen recordings the band made in the first nine months of that year covered the spectrum from sweet to hot, slow to fast, quiet to loud. The band returned eighteen times prior to the shutting down of tours through West Virginia in the summer of 1942. There were four engagements in 1936, one in 1937, five in 1939, one in 1940, five in 1941, and the final pair toward the end of April 1942. Given the regularity of Lunceford’s recordings throughout that period, it is easy to document the continuing creation of a diverse repertory.
Lunceford recordings beginning in the mid-thirties document arrangements of popular songs by Irving Berlin (“He Ain’t Got Rhythm” and “Easter Parade”), Hoagy Carmichael (“Stardust”), and Cole Porter (“Miss Otis Regrets”), among many others. There were novelty numbers such as “The Merry Go Round Broke Down” and instrumental dance compositions including “For Dancers Only,” “Uptown Blues,” and “Lunceford Special.” There were even some arrangements of art music for the band, including one of themes from Ludwig van Beethoven’s Sonata for Piano, Opus 13, “Pathetique,” by Chappie Willett, whom we previously encountered as a student bandleader at West Virginia State and then as the leader of Edward’s Collegians after that band left Bluefield for Cincinnati and Philadelphia (Determeyer 2006, 277–91).
The link between recordings and the road for Lunceford was a close one, according to Eddy Determeyer; arrangements were “test-marketed” on tours before a decision was made to record them. As some of Lunceford’s tours lasted several months, there were numerous opportunities to gauge the reactions of fans to a particular number. “Uptown Blues” was apparently introduced to fans at the Paramount Theater in New York sometime late in September 1939. It was not recorded until December of that year (Determeyer 2006, 79, 171).
Given his frequent trips through West Virginia, it is obvious that Lunceford enjoyed the same popularity in the Mountain State as elsewhere. Newspaper coverage provides evidence of the nature of that appeal and to whom within the black communities. On February 17, 1936, the day of its debut in Wheeling, “a number of West Virginia State co-eds and male college students will be included in the in the welcome reception committee to greet Jimmy [sic] and the boys when they arrive at the Wheeling Market Auditorium” (PC 2.15.36, 2/6). The presence of the West Virginia State students is remarkable because Wheeling is about 200 miles north of the West Virginia State campus. Moreover, the next night the band appeared in Charleston, less than twenty miles from campus.
So successful was its appearance in Charleston that the band returned on April 15 and was expected to draw several thousand to its dance. The unsigned article in the Courier announcing this dance noted that those who had attended the February engagement “were conquered by the music of the ‘sweetest’ band they had ever heard.” Significantly, readers were informed of the band’s popularity on various university campuses, perhaps a not-so-subtle outreach to middle-class blacks (PC 4.11.36, 2/10).
On July 23, 1937, Lunceford played a dance at the Vanity Fair Ballroom in Huntington, like the Charleston engagement a year earlier a single appearance in the state (PC 7.17.37, 20). Two years later, one can see both a further surge in his popularity as well as the efficiency of booker George Morton in organizing four dances to take place between March 25 and March 29, 1939, in Charleston, Mount Hope, Bluefield, and Fairmont. Reference was made in one of two Courier articles to the fact that Lunceford, a member of Kappa Alpha Psi at his alma mater Fisk University, would be greeted at both West Virginia State and Bluefield State Colleges by members of the local chapters of that fraternity. Indeed, the brothers at Bluefield State were reportedly going to discuss with Lunceford the possibility of his band playing for a future prom (PC 2.25.39, 21; 3.11.39, 20).
A third Courier story, datelined March 23 from Charleston, drew attention to the fact that, in advance of the show at the armory in Mount Hope, “Morton’s Drug Store has already had its largest advance sale since Cab Calloway made his late appearance in the state.” The drugstore in question was owned by George Morton’s father. Attention was also drawn to the role of a “young college graduate and wide-awake hustler” named Yancy Whittaker who “joined Universal Promoters to bring [Lunceford] into Fairmont, W. Va at the Fairmont Armory” (PC 3.25.39, 20).
Beginning in 1940 the Courier’s coverage of big bands, including Lunceford’s, was often reduced to a single column that listed the dates and destinations of a portion of various bands’ tours. Largely absent was information that would shed light on the circumstances surrounding a dance, such as the name of the local promoter, anticipated size of the crowd, or mention of previous engagements and their impact. An early instance of this sort of reportage appeared in the issue of May 20, 1940, in which, on page 20, one encounters a column entitled “Lunceford’s Route” which listed all known performances that month, including one held on May 30 at the Crystal Cavern Ballroom in Martinsburg, West Virginia, located in the state’s eastern panhandle, far removed from the coalfields and quite possibly a dance for whites. Two days earlier, the band had performed in Providence, Rhode Island, and on May 31, it was performing the first of two engagements at Clemson College in South Carolina (PC 5.20.40, 20).
Similar coverage early in January 1941 revealed that the Lunceford band was scheduled to play five engagements in the Mountain State beginning in Huntington on February 6 and concluding in Wheeling on February 11. In between it played in Beckley, Charleston, and Bluefield on February 7, 8, and 10 respectively. While the band played two engagements in November 1942, the first on the 24th in Beckley and the second the next day in Huntington, the February 1941 series of engagements was its last extended visit to the Mountain State before World War II (PC 1.4.41, 18; 3.21.41, 20).
Examining Jimmie Lunceford’s tours of West Virginia enables one to consider a number of related issues in terms of audience reception: the diversity of musical styles in which his band performed, the consequent large attendance at his dances, and the ways in which Lunceford’s image was central to his appeal.
Concerning the diversity of styles performed by black bands when the situation warranted it, I drew attention both to contemporaneous characterizations of his style as well as to documentation provided by Lunceford’s recordings. Andy Kirk emphasized that his band played “dance music” and “didn’t stress jazz, though we played it” (Kirk 1989, 62). Duke Ellington appears to have been able to finesse the expectation of sweet music by composing ballads and ballad-like pieces that served the same purpose.
Lest the impression be created that in the Mountain State bands played no jazz, explicit evidence to the contrary appeared in connection with several engagements in the late 1930s. When Lunceford appeared in Charleston on February 18, 1936, the Courier reported: “An added attraction that night will be a ‘Truckin’s Contest’ sponsored by the Tuxedo Club to the winners of which cash prizes will be awarded. Participants for the contest must register prior to February 18” (PC, 1.25.36, 2/6). Tiny Bradshaw’s engagement at the Charleston armory on September 24, 1938, included a Lindy Hop contest. “Couples representing Charleston, Huntington, Parkersburg, Beckley, Mount Hope, Logan, Montgomery, Cabin Creek, and other smaller towns have been contacted and have consented to join in and see if they can’t win one of the three cash prizes that are to be given away.”
The article went on to suggest that any couple hoping to break into the entertainment business that also proved to be of above average talent might anticipate being hired by Bradshaw for subsequent engagements (PC 9.24.38, 20). Beyond the evidence that younger black Mountaineers were up on the dances of the day, this article provides furt
her confirmation of the geographical range of audiences for this music. Several of the towns mentioned were at least an hour away from Charleston by automobile, Parkersburg more than three. That the promoters of this dance knew whom to contact when rounding up contestants is evidence of the regularity with which certain people traveled to Charleston for dances and demonstrates that some had already developed local reputations as good dancers.
A third description of a dance provides additional confirmation of interest in big band jazz but at the same time acknowledges a comparable interest in sweet music. Two Chapters of the Kappa Alpha Psi fraternity, one in Charleston, the other nearby in Institute, the home of West Virginia State College, cohosted an annual formal dance in Charleston at the Knights of Pythias Hall on March 25, 1938. Music was provided by two bands: the West Virginia State Collegians and Locklayer’s Virginians. “The two orchestras were in contrast, the West Virginia Collegians playing snappy swing rhythms that gave pep and gaiety to the proceedings, and the Virginians playing the sweet, muted syncopations that is [sic] so pleasant to dance to” (PC 4.2.1938, 9). As noted previously, the president of West Virginia State frowned on dancing, but presumably as this dance took place off campus, the college band was not constrained in the music it performed.
There would seem little reason to doubt that the African American audience for dance music in West Virginia was representative of the larger black audience for big band jazz and dance music in the nation. Just as it embraced both working- and middle-class blacks, so too it embraced a variety of musical tastes, which challenges the conventional wisdom that blacks liked jazz more or less exclusively while whites preferred something sweeter. For black Mountaineers dance music was not “all jazz all the time”—and in saying this, I am arguing that their preferences were not significantly different from those of African Americans living in northern cities, nor for that matter of the American population in general, black and white. Because, in a sense, every dance venue in West Virginia attracted such a diverse audience, bands did not have the luxury of devoting themselves exclusively to a single style of dance music, even if their reputations would appear to have favored such narrow focus. On the one hand, whether or not broadcast performances by Noble Sissle’s band reminded Wheeling resident Gladys Mike of her favorite orchestra, Guy Lombardo’s Royal Canadians, Sissle would have had to perform some uptempo swing to appeal to a significant portion of his audiences in Charleston, Huntington, and Welch when he toured to those cities in 1934. On the other hand (and we know this because the bandleader said it himself), at each of the ten engagements in West Virginia played by Andy Kirk’s Twelve Clouds of Joy between October 1936 and July 1941, an array of dance music made up the program, and undoubtedly prominently featured was their sweet ballad, “Until the Real Thing Comes Along” (Kirk 1989, 88).
Big Band Jazz in Black West Virginia Page 19
