by Cole Porter
One day, Cole Porter invited Diaghilev and me to lunch with George Gershwin, who was passing through Paris and wanted Diaghilev to hear his Rhapsody in Blue, which he would have loved to have performed by the Ballets Russes. Diaghilev listened in silence while Gershwin played his score, promised to “think about the question of using it for a ballet,” but never gave him an answer.
Diaghilev was outraged by the jazz invasion of Europe and by its influence on your composers. In 1926, he wrote to me:
Saturday, August 7, 1926
Hôtel des Bains
Lido, Venice
. . . We have stopped at the Hôtel des Bains because the fracases at the Excelsior make life intolerable. The whole of Venice is up in arms against Cole Porter because of his jazz and his Negroes. He has started an idiotic night club on a boat moored opposite the Salute, and now the Grand Canal is swarming with the very same Negroes who have made us all run away from London and Paris. They are teaching the “Charleston” on the Lido beach! It’s dreadful! The gondoliers are threatening to massacre all the elderly American women here. The very fact of their renting the Palazzo Rezzonico is considered characteristic of nouveaux riches. Cole is greatly changed since his operation; he is thinner and appreciably older-looking.*
There are numerous problems with both of these accounts, even leaving aside Kochno’s failure to mention that he and Porter were lovers. Unless his description of meeting Porter dates from before 1923, Porter is unlikely to have been an ‘anonymous American’ if Kochno’s own account of a 1924 performance in Venice at the Porters is correct.* It is likely, in any case, that they met in Paris in 1923, since Diaghilev’s letter mentioning Porter’s ballet – and his familiar reference to Porter as ‘Cole’ – must date from that year, not 1927, and refer to Within the Quota. Porter and Diaghilev, and indeed Kochno, are also known to have socialized, as an undated telegram from Porter to Diaghilev shows:
[undated]: Cole Porter to Sergei Diaghilev35
Dear Mr Diaghileff
Would you like to come to dinner Sunday evening at 8½.
We have invited Tante Winne† & I believe she can come.
If it were possible, we would be very happy to have Lifar & Riet. Boris has already accepted . . .
Sincerely, Cole Porter
It is not true, by Stravinsky’s own account, that Porter did not take lessons with him because Stravinsky had quoted an exorbitant fee,‡ nor is it the case that Porter had had a serious operation at that time; this can only be a reference relating to Porter’s well-known riding accident of 1937.§ In light of all this, Kochno’s accounts can only be considered fabrications.¶
In at least one respect, however, Kochno’s descriptions may be accurate with respect to Porter’s lifestyle in Venice during the mid-1920s. In 1926, while still in Paris, Porter had met the expatriate African-American singer and dancer Ada ‘Bricktop’ Smith. Porter first appears among her papers in her address book for 1926 – ‘Cole Porter / Paris / 13 Rue Monsieur / Grand Hotel / Venice’* – and according to her diary, she first visited Porter at home on 3 May, when she provided liquor, ‘extras’, received a salary, and gave Charleston lessons. She visited Porter four more times in May and early June and followed him to Venice that summer:
3 May
Bottles
17–85
Extra
200
Charleston
200
Salary
200
685
FIRST TIME HOUSE OF Cole Porter
4 May
Bottles
14–70
Extra
160
Charleston
200
Salary
200
Charleston Cole Porter
10 May
Soiree
50
Charleston
200
Bottles
13–65
Salary
200
965
Soiree Maxwell Ritz† Charleston Cole Porter
13 May
Bottles
9–45
Charleston
200
Salary
200
445
Charleston Cole Porter
27 May
Bottles
16–80
Salary
200
Charleston
200
480
Charleston Cole Porter
7 June
Soiree
1000
Cole Porter
2100
Salary
200
3300
7 August
6 Oclock
Princess
San Faustino
Mr Porter
Boat
28 August
Mr Porter
Boat
Three times
Boat 1.500
30 August
Mr Porter
Palace*
Two contemporaneous accounts, one undated, the other dated July 1926, describe events put on by the Porters:
A wave of entertaining has swept over Venice within recent weeks. One of the most elaborate balls was given this week by Mr. and Mrs. Cole Porter in the Rezzonico Palace, the residence occupied by the Robert Brownings on the Grand Canal.† The guests entered from the canal, ascending the steps between gondoliers attired in red and white costumes instead of the usual liveried footmen. Mediaeval torches replaced the usual electric lights.
Venice Innovation. July, 1926. Venice. – One of the charms of Venice is that it is never dull. Just when one begins to feel the need of an innovation, out of the hat, like a rabbit, it springs. This time it is out of the heads of four members of the younger set in Venice, Count Andrea Robilant, Marquis di Salina, Baron Franchetti, and Mr. Cole Porter, who are successfully launching the Dance Boat.
A large barge, which has been specially constructed, containing facilities for serving supper, will float out into the lagoon and, on still nights, even into the open sea. A negro jazz orchestra is being brought from Paris to play and there will be dancing.
Invitations have been sent to a number of members of the summer colony, and the subscription list is to be limited to 150 members, with the proceeds going to several Venetian charities.36
The negative comments on the ‘Dance Boat’ in the (probably spurious) letter by Diaghilev have coloured accounts of the Porters’ time in Venice, even if numerous other anecdotes confirm that it was at least lavish and extravagant. The composer Richard Rodgers (1902–79), for example, gives this account of meeting Porter in 1926:
As soon as we arrived at the Lido, Larry [Hart] went in search of the nearest bar and I went for a stroll on the beach. Suddenly I heard a friendly English voice calling my name. To my joy it was Noël Coward . . . Noël was in Venice, he told me, visiting an American friend he was sure would love to meet me . . . His name was Cole Porter . . . Promptly at seven-thirty, Porter’s private gondola pulled up outside our hotel. Larry and I got in, were wafted down the Grand Canal and deposited in front of an imposing three-story palace. This was the “place” Porter had rented, which we later found out was the celebrated Palazzo Rezzonico, where Robert Browning had died. We were assisted out of the gondola by a liveried footman wearing white gloves, and ushered up a massive stairway, at the top of which stood Noël, Cole and his wife, Linda . . . During the delicious and elegantly served dinner Cole kept peppering me with questions about the Broadway musical theatre, revealing a remarkably keen knowledge of both classical and popular music. Since he impressed me as someone who led a thoroughly indolent, though obviously affluent, life, the sharpness of his observations was unexpected. Unquestionably, he was more than a social butterfly.
After dinner, Rodgers continues, he and Coward and Porter played some of their songs:
“Why, I asked Cole, was he wasting his time? Why wasn’t he writing for Broadway
?” To my embarrassment, he told me that he had already written four musical-comedy scores, three of which had even made it to Broadway . . . What’s more, he said, he had discovered the secret of writing hits. As I breathlessly awaited the magic formula, he leaned over and confided, “I’ll write Jewish tunes.”*
Many years later, Porter gave a more benign account of his ‘night club’ in a note to his lawyer John Wharton: ‘It is always strange for me how many fables are connected with the facts of anyone’s life . . . Many biographies speak about me and Linda running a night club in Venice. This must stem from the fact that I had a huge barge converted into a dance floor. I imported a negro band from London and once a week this barge was towed around the lagoons of Venice. The membership consisted of about one hundred of our friends, who paid a certain amount for the privilege of belonging to this club. All the proceeds were given to a local charity. So much for the night club.’37
Probably a number of the Porters’ evenings were sedate. On 12 August 1925, Duff Cooper, Viscount Norwich, wrote to his wife, Lady Diana Cooper, ‘Dinner at the Coles’ last night wasn’t bad. No charm at all. I played chess with Monty Woolley afterwards, the others went on to the piazza where we joined them later.’†
In addition to running his charity ‘Dance Boat’, Porter was visited regularly by friends and celebrities; in a letter of 30 June 1953 he recalled a visit by Fanny Brice and his composition of ‘Hot House Rose’:
30 June 1953: Cole Porter to George Byron*
Dear George:
HOT HOUSE ROSE. Fanny Brice visited Venice in 1926, when my wife and I were living in the Palazzo Rezzonico. At this time in my life I had given up all hope of ever being successful on Broadway and had taken up painting but Fannie, [sic] whom we grew to know very well, asked me to write a song for her. This was the reason for HOT HOUSE ROSE. When I finished it I invited her to the Rezzonico to hear it and afterwards she always told friends how wonderfully incongruous it was, that I should have demonstrated to her this song about a poor little factory girl as she sat beside me while I sang and played it to her on a grand piano that looked lost in our ballroom, whose walls were entirely decorated by Tiepolo paintings and was so big that if we gave a Ball for less than one thousand people in this room they seemed to be entirely lost. She never sang the song.38
Porter travelled to New York in late 1926 – in November he attended a dinner for Lady Mendl† and in December another for Ferenc Molnár‡. After his return to Paris he wrote to his mother with an account of his song ‘I’m in Love Again’ that does not ring entirely true:
2 February 1927: Cole Porter to Kate Porter39
Mammammamma,
I want to tell you a curious story.
Three years ago, when I was writing the Greenwich Village Follies, I gave them a tune called I’m in Love Again. This tune I had written before and had sung it around Paris, and always with howling success, as the melody was very simple and the sentiment appealed to everyone.
The great powers of The Greenwich Village Follies thought less than nothing of this song, and never would allow it in the show. So it lay in a drawer at Harms, and I thought it was dead for ever. But one thing very funny about that little song, no matter where I traveled to, I’d always hear someone singing it. Last year, in New York, I heard it at Maurice’s cabaret. They played it over and over again, simply the one refrain, as no one knew the verse. I went to the band leader and asked him who wrote it, and he said “Oh a Harlem nigger wrote it.” Everybody in Paris knows it, and it’s almost as well known in London and in Rome. But practically no one knows that I wrote it.
Now, suddenly out of a clear sky, comes a wire from Harms, offering me an excellent royalty to publish this song and do everything they can to make a big hit out of it. And I have sent them a verse and a second refrain, and its [sic] coming out immediately as a popular song. As Harms usually only publish songs in productions, and never launch a song unless they make a big hit of it, I shall be surprised if I dont [sic] make a lot of money out of it.
Dont [sic] you think its [sic] a funny story, that poor little deserted song suddenly landing on her feet.
I’ve no news except that I’m as happy as a lark, and so is Linda. We are staying here until the last week in March, when we leap in the motor and go all over Spain, ending up at Seville, at the Albas, for an Easter house-party. The Prince of Wales* is going too, and it will be very gay.
I have written a lot of new songs, and I believe excellent ones, which I am going to send to Harms, and I hope they will publish them. Also, I have just finished two more paintings on glass of Spanish bullfights, and now I’m doing a big one of a beautiful nude lady, sailing away from New York in a balloon.
Paris is empty and charming. We have had beautiful spring weather, and the Bois is crowded.
I can’t thank you enough for your Christmas check. You were very sweet to send it to me, and I had a grand time spending it on totally useless things.
Goodbye and lots of love from us both. Linda said you were the gayest person she saw in New York, and that after being with you, everyone else seemed dead. And Weston said “Oh sir, you have no idea how chic Mrs. Porter looked in New York.”
Give my love to Sammie, my papa, and to Bessie and Dixie. I’d love to see you so much. Do you want me to come over in the spring and bring you to Venice? Think that over.
Cole, February 2, 1927
This letter – the original of which has not been traced – is not without at least one problem: Porter is incorrect in stating that ‘I’m in Love Again’ was not given as part of the Greenwich Village Follies,40 and apparently it was published as early as 1925, not in 1927 as Porter says it would be.
One notable event in the Porters’ social life in 1927 was the opening in mid-May of the Hotel les Ambassadeurs, for which Porter would write a revue in 1928:
PARIS SURRENDERS TO OUTDOOR LIFE. Ambassadeurs Has Gala Opening. Dining and entertainment in the Champs Elysées are nearer the Place de la Concorde than in pre-Bonaparte days, when the Bal Diable was a long-famous establishment at the point where the Rue Marbeuf now intersects the great thoroughfare. Here Charles Dickens once had his Paris home. A notable event of the week was the gala opening of the Hotel les Ambassadeurs, where dinner was accompanied by a high-powered cabaret performance, with intervals for the guests to take a fling with Terpsichore. Prince George of England* was the guest of Prince and Princess Jean de Faucigny-Lucinge.† Prince and Princess Viggo of Denmark, the latter Miss Eleanor Green of New York before her marriage,‡ were among the dancers . . . Among the thousand diners were Sir Charles and Lady Mendl, the latter Elsie de Wolfe; Miss Eleonora Sears of Boston,§ Mr. and Mrs. Cole Porter . . .41
Linda Porter’s position in Paris society was also noted by Helen Josephy and Mary Margaret McBride in their Paris Is a Woman’s Town: ‘Women who dare to wear clothes that are strikingly individual and about three seasons ahead of the style trend naturally gravitate toward Louise-boulanger* . . . Bright modern color contrasts and combinations of marvelous materials are . . . characteristic of this house which is patronized by Mrs. Michael Arlen;† Madame Agnès,‡ Parisian modiste and one of the best-dressed women in Europe; Mrs. Cole Porter, society leader and wife of the song writer; and Mrs. Wellington Koo,§ wife of the Chinese ex-ambassador to England.’42
In early 1928, Porter returned to New York, to work on his show Paris, at which time he wrote to his cousin and financial manager, Harvey Cole. This note is among the earliest surviving letters to document Porter’s lifelong concern with managing his income, whether through money earned from his shows, disbursements from the family businesses, or gifts (and eventually the estate) from his mother:
9 February [1928]: Cole Porter to Harvey Cole43
DEAR HARVEY,
I HAVE JUST BEEN FIGURING OUT MY FINANCIAL STATUS WITH MY MOTHER AND FIND THAT IN ORDER TO LEAVE NEW YORK, -- I SAIL ON MARCH SIXTH, I MUST HAVE THREE THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS BEYOND MY REGULAR ALLOWAN
CE. AND SO I AM WRITING TO YOU TO FIND OUT WHETHER YOU COULD GET HOLD OF IT FOR ME, PERHAPS BY MAKING ONLY A PARTIAL PAYMENT ON MY PRESENT INDEBTEDNESS AT THE FIRST NATIONAL, OR MAYBE BY FINDING SOMETHING THAT YOU COULD SELL.
BEGINNING MARCH SEVENTH, I WILL BE RECEIVING A WEEKLY ROYALTY OF ABOUT $150 ON THE PRODUCTION RIGHTS OF MY NEW SHOW.* THIS SHOW WILL RUN UNTIL THE FIRST OF MAY, CLOSE FOR THE SUMMER, AND OPEN IN NEW YORK IN THE EARLY AUTUMN FOR A WINTER’S RUN. THE SHOW IS A HIT AND I CANT [sic] SEE HOW ANYTHING CAN STOP IT. THIS MONEY COULD BE APPLIED ON MY INDEBTEDNESS, IF YOU WISH.
IN ANY CASE, WRITE ME AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, AS I WANT TO LEAVE NEW YORK, CLEAN.
MY BEST REGARDS TO YOU AND MILDRED,
SINCERELY YOURS
[signed:] Cole†
Paris opened at the Music Box Theatre, New York, on October 1928. The New York Times reported that: ‘Irene Bordoni,‡ the fascinating Bordoni of feathers and gorgeous costumes, of rolling eyes and French accent – in short, Irene Bordoni – came back to town at the Music Box last night as the star of an entertainment called “Paris.” . . . Miss Bordoni sang four songs in the traditional Bordoni manner – and three of the four were of the sort that might be called grand. Nor can it be mere coincidence that these three were written by Cole Porter.’* The New Yorker was ‘ecstatic’ about Porter’s songs:
