PART 6: Video Intro

Do you remember from your childhood that classic, hilarious Bugs Bunny cartoon where Bugs is a concert pianist? He comes out on stage with white gloves on, and in front of the audience, painstakingly removes them one finger at a time. Then he proceeds to crack his knuckles and limber up his fingers-- all this activity with a supreme indifference to the fact that his audience is waiting for him to start playing.  I always thought it was a pretty hysterical scene when I was a kid. Then rather recently I read this description of a concert by the pianist Louis Moreau Gottschalk (1829-1869 ).

"It was the fashion at that time always to wear white gloves with evening dress, and his manner of taking them off, after seating himself at the piano, was often a very amusing episode.  His deliberation, his perfect indifference to the waiting audience was thoroughly manifest, as he slowly drew them off one finger at a time, bowing and smiling meanwhile to the familiar faces in the front rows.  Finally disposing of them, he would manipulate his hands until they were quite limber, then preludize until his mood prompted him to begin his selection on the programme." (Richard Hoffman, Some Musical Recollections of Fifty Years, New York: Charles Scribner & Sons, 1910).

Gottschalk was no Bugs Bunny clown, though-- he was a true genius who turned into a rock-star heart-throb of the 19th century.  Women rushed to the stage and tried to get souvenirs from him-- they fainted at his concerts. He was a sensation across America and in Europe as well, befriended by royalty and the glittering set.

Gottschalk grew up pampered on a wealthy Louisiana estate with slave-nurses to take care of him, and his music is an exuberant crazy-quilt of this Louisiana upbringing.  No one had ever thought to weave together such diverse threads as minstrel shows, banjo tunes, African drumming, European light classical music, and Caribbean melodies--all of which he heard in his childhood--into one musical fabric. But Gottschalk was an original, constantly breaking down musical barriers.

Gottschalk also had a way of breaking down cultural barriers. At age 13 he applied for entrance as a piano major in the Paris Conservatoire, the most prestigious music school in the world. Being an American, however, was a tremendous strike against him. As Gottschalk later recounted, Pierre Zimmerman, the head of piano classes, rejected him without even an audition, thinking that nothing could come out of America, "...a land of steam engines... the country of railroads but not of musicians."

Notes of a Pianist, by Louis Moreau Gottschalk. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1964.

As it turns out, Gottschalk did not have need of the hallowed Conservatoire training afterall-- he spent 11 years living in Europe, during which time his fame spread so incredibly that he became a household name! His American roots actually ended up helping him because he was seen as exotic and somewhat of a curiosity.  "...an American composer, bon Dieu!" was one incredulous comment of the time. Shortly before his 16th birthday he gave a recital in Paris which was attended by Chopin, who predicted that Gottschalk would become, "the king of pianists." Hector Berlioz also had compliments to pay, in 1851: "Mr. Gottschalk was born in America, whence he has brought a host of curious chants from the Creoles and Negroes; he has made from them the themes of his most delicious compositions.  Everybody in Europe now knows Bamboula, Le Bananier, Le Mancenillier, La Savane, and twenty other ingenious fantasies in which the nonchalant graces of tropical melody assuage so agreeably our restless and insatiable passion for novelty."

Returning to America in 1853 he led a rather peripatetic life, at one point logging 95,000 miles playing 11,000 concerts in three years-- but also settling down in the Caribbean for five years of comparatively little activity. After a torrid romance in California that became a national scandal, he fled to South America and died in Brazil.

There is a recording of Leonard Pennario playing piano works of Gottschalk.  On the same recording are also works of Scott Joplin and George Gershwin.

The legacy of Gottschalk is as one of the early American geniuses of popular music, someone who anticipated the pluralistic musical culture that would distinguish this country's achievement in the 20th century. Here is a little treat to listen to: The Banjo.

John Philip Sousa (1854-1932)

If you've ever watched a parade in America you've heard these tunes-- and many more compositions of "The March King"-- played often.  Sousa could have rivalled Gottschalk in his notoriety, both at home and abroad. Many of his marches became popular internationally as dance pieces (The Washington Post was an instant hit, accompanied by the dance known as the "two-step," which supplanted the waltz).  Also, during the early part of the 20th century, his music reflected the new image of the USA as an emerging world power.

Marching Along, (autobiography of Sousa) by John Philip Sousa.  Boston, 1928.

Sousa sold some of his early marches to a Philadelphia publisher for $35. a piece-- outright sales with no royalty agreements, that made the publisher a rich man but which brought Sousa not one more cent.  Needless to say, Sousa learned the financial value of his tunes and later earned a fortune from them. He served as bandmaster for the Marine Band under five presidents.  Here is the classic Stars and Stripes Forever.

Sousa's Band, with the founder/conductor at center (bearded)

In 1892 Sousa left the Marine Band to found his own touring band which crisscrossed America, giving concerts until being disbanded in 1931. Among their achievements was a 1911 worldwide tour, including dates in South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, the Fiji Islands, and Hawaii.

The largest horn of the brass band was traditionally a 'helicon tuba,' which was wound in such a way that it could actually be worn by the player. Helicon tubas led the marching band by blaring out the tune from its bell ahead of the rest of the pack.  Sousa, disliking the effect, tweaked the design to get a bell that faced upward--a design knicknamed the "rain catcher," and later known as the Sousaphone. That original design was then further modified and some Sousaphones have an adjustable bell.

I love this uproarious introduction to the art of Sousaphone playing from the old Jean Shepherd book, In God We Trust- All Others Pay Cash: "Among other imponderables, a player must have as profound a knowledge of winds and weather as the skipper of a racing yawl.  A cleanly aligned sousaphone section marching into the teeth of a spanking crosswind with mounting gusts, booming out the second chorus of Semper Fidelis, is a study of courage and control under difficult conditions.  I myself once, in my Rookie days, got caught in a counter-clockwise wind with a clockwise instrument and spun violently for five minutes before I regained control... Sometimes, in a high wind a sousaphone will start playing you.  It literally blows back, developing enough back pressure to produce a thin chorus of Dixie out of both ears of the unwary sousaphonist."

 

The Sousa and Pryor Bands: Original Recordings 1901-1926 (New World Records-- usually available in libraries).

Stephen C. Foster (1826-1864)

Stephen Foster was one of America's first major tunesmiths.  Like Gottschalk, Foster mined the experience and music of African Americans (minstrel shows, banjo tunes, plantation songs) for inspiration. His best-known songs of this genre include Oh! Susanna, De Camptown Races, and Swanee River.  A few of his songs were Civil War songs (supporting the North side), such as We are Coming, Father Abraham, and We've a Million in the Field. Other songs were 'sentimental' ones-- loves songs and odes to the warmth of hearth and home, such as Beautiful Dreamer, Jeanie with the light brown hair, and My Old Kentucky Home.

All the Years of American Popular Music: A Comprehensive History, by David Ewen. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1977.

Foster composed about 200 songs during the course of 20 years and they are now regarded as American folk songs.  My Old Kentucky Home is the official state song of Kentucky, while Old Folks at Home is the official song of Florida.  Foster was the first musician to be nominated to the Hall of Fame for Great Americans, and the first American composer whose works were issued in a complete printed edition. Sadly, however, his relationship with publishers during his lifetime was rather like Sousa's early dealings-- he was left penniless and died in poverty at the age of 38.

The Sonneck Society for American Music  is the place to start if you want to learn more about American music. They deal with musics of all types- popular, classical, theater, folk, etc- and include North, Central, and South America and the Caribbean.

RAGTIME

Ragtime came out of the tradition of brass bands.  Around the turn of the century the home-town brass band was the center of entertainment and fed the dance craze which swept the country during that time.  No town that was any town would be without a band. They played at every social activity imaginable, from picnics and political rallies to dances and funerals.  These bands were sponsored by local organizations and businessmen-- anything from social clubs, churches, and fire departments to undertakers and wealthy plantation owners.

Ragtime: Its History, Composers and Music,  edited by John E. Hasse. New York: Schirmer, 1985.

At some point, performers began to improvise on and around these military marches --including Sousa marches-- playing them with a kind of syncopation that turned their martial rhythms rather ragged.  This practice, of ragging the rhythm, came to be known as ragtime. The bands that played ragtime were small bands-- especially as compared to the larger instrumental ensembles of the day such as symphonic orchestras-- but the tradition evolved for each of the members to fill out the spareness by improvising, a kind of collective improvisation which made for a thicker, more robust sound. As the composer, pianist and bandleader Jelly Roll Morton (1890-1941) put it, "All we had in a band, as a rule, was bass horn, trombone, trumpet, an alto horn and maybe a baritone horn, bass, and snare drum-- just seven pieces, but, talking about noise, you never heard a sixty-piece band make as much noise as we did."

Steppin' on the Gas: from Rags to Riches 1913-1927 (New World Records-- usually available in libraries). Early Band Ragtime (Folkways Records- again, available in libraries.)

The first great composer of ragtime music was Scott Joplin, a black American composer born in 1868. Trained at the George R. Smith College for Negroes he began publishing his compositions in 1895.  His first big hit was Maple Leaf Rag, published in 1899. Joplin helped to make ragtime a national craze. Though his rags were mostly for piano solo, he also wrote two operas and was working on a symphony based on ragtime at the time of his death in 1917.

Ragtime pieces were duple meter pieces, usually with four strains (melodies), each 16 measures long, and with each strain repeated: AA BB CC DD. In piano rags, the left hand kept a pretty steady beat while the right hand worked gentle syncopations off of it-- ragging the rhythm. Rag was not just piano music, however-- it was a whole era of music which included ragtime banjo players, ragtime singers, and ragtime bands. Other composers, such as W.C. Handy (1873-1958) also wrote rags, and perhaps the most famous rag tune of all was written by Irving Berlin, Alexander's Ragtime Band.  This tune achieved international recognition --it was played on the Titanic the night it went down-- and started a whole new style of dancing.

TIN PAN ALLEY

One huge songfest-- that's what the first few decades of the 20th century were like.  People loved to sing around the parlor piano at night, or take trolley car rides to the countryside, sit out by a campfire and sing.  The songs people sang in those days were written by composers who by and large nestled themselves in studios lining 28th Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues in New York City-- an area that came to be called Tin Pan Alley.

Composers of popular tunes were amazingly prolific in those days.  Irving Berlin wrote 1500 songs. Harry Von Tilzer used to say that he wrote 3,000 songs before his first hit, Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage. George M. Cohan started writing songs at the age of 16 and penned hundreds of tunes, including famous patriotic ones like You're a Grand Ol' Flag, and show tunes such as Give My Regards to Broadway.

Music and World War I--

Cohan was among the Tin Pan Alley composers (along with composers in other parts of America and abroad) who also contributed to the war effort by writing stirring morale-boosters. Cohan's Over There became a kind of centerpiece of the United States mobilization efforts for World War I.  These songs were sung at Liberty Bond rallies to raise money for the war effort, and in homes across the nation.  It is absolutely fascinating to look at some of these songs--particularly the lyrics-- and examine them in terms of what they reveal about the culture of the time. Americans were so optimistic-- even naive-- about their entrance into the war.  There was almost a feeling of excitement about vanquishing an evil opponent.  Just the titles alone are revealing:

This is from my collection of World War I sheet music-- one of the most famous post-war songs.

• We're Going to Hang the Kaiser Under the Linden Tree
• Would You Rather Be a Colonel with An Eagle on Your Shoulder, or A Private With a Chicken on Your Knee?
• If I Had a Son for Every Star in Old Glory, America, I'd Give Them All to You
• I Don't Want to Get Well, I'm in Love With a Beautiful Nurse
• Bugle Call Rag
• Just Like Washington Crossed the Delaware, Pershing will Cross the Rhine.
• Oh how I hate to get up in the morning
• Good Bye Broadway, Hello France
• Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag

 

A personal note from LK~ Sharing some thoughts on the connections between music and war...Click here for video.

Song lyrics from this era are really a fascinating area to explore in terms of sociological analysis. The boisterousness and humor of World War I songs contrasts starkly with those that were written during World War II-- those of the later war are far more poignant and subdued.  They don't share much of the glibness of the earlier songs, the cocky confidence-- it's as if we had learned too much from the first war and knew only too well what the second one would be like.

Songs from the period between the wars are also revelatory because they speak of such hope for the future-- afterall, World War I only earned that name in retrospect.  It had been called "The War to End All Wars" and the early 1920s were almost manic in their sense of relief and happiness. Lyrics like those from Ira and George Gershwin's I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise sum up the mood perfectly:

It's madness
To be always sitting around in sadness,
When you could be learning the Steps of Gladness.
You'll be happy when you can do
Just six or seven.

Begin today! You'll find it nice,
The quickest way to Paradise.
When you practice,
Here's the thing to know,
Simply say as you go:

"I'll build a Stairway to Paradise,
With a new Step ev'ry day!
I'm going to get there at any price;
Stand aside, I'm on my way!"

The lyrics are so hokey that they're wonderful-- sweet and tender. By the end of the 1920s, the Great Depression-- and a decade later, the Second World War more or less put an end to the innocent sound of the early 20s.  We begin to hear sultry torch songs and wistful war songs--and a much more mature, sober attitude toward life and music making.

If you're interested in exploring more historical topics from the point of view of song lyrics, visit The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Website, which has history lesson plans for teachers and all sorts of interesting analyses of historical phenomena based on popular music lyrics.

 

THE BLUES

 

The contribution of Black Americans to American musical history is vast. African-Americans were at the forefront of all of the major initiatives in popular music in the 19th century, and have remained so throughout the 20th.  At right is a photo of the Fisk Jubilee singers, who toured America in 1871 to raise funds for Fisk, one of the earliest of black colleges.

Perhaps the first among many genres to emerge from the black experience was the Spiritual, a kind of religious folksong, and the greatest of the early ones Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen, Roll, Jordan, Roll, and Let My People Go have entered the national consciousness. After emancipation, black choirs formed and toured America with spirituals. Antonin Dvorak, the Czech composer who actually lived in New York City for a time, was so inspired by these tunes that he wrote a kind of tribute to them in his famous New World Symphony.

Some writers maintain that the Blues came from the cries of street vendors, others say that it came out of the everyday disheartening experience of blacks. Whatever the exact origin there is no doubt that the Blues captured certain issues of life-- generally love, sex, death, and poverty-- and made them into very personal statements. Blues songs became popular at dance functions, giving the dancers time to catch their breath and providing a contrasting mood. The first great Blues singers were Ma Rainey (1886-1939) and Bessie Smith (1894-1937).

The History of the Blues, by Francis Davis. New York: Hyperion, 1995.  Also, The Land Where the Blues Began, by Alan Lomax. N.Y: Pantheon, 1993.

The Blues, as demonstrated in Lecture 3, is based on a 12-bar pattern.  The lyrics are usually three lines of text: one line, that same line repeated, and a contrasting line or response, so that the overall shape is AAB.  One characteristic of Blues singing (and quite alot of other popular musics) is an expressive technique known as blue notes.  These are usually the 3rd and 7th tone of the scale which are subtly bent or inflected downward from their standard pitch.  Next time you hear any blues (or any sad song) listen for it-- it really enhances the meaning of the text and the beauty of the line.

One of the most talked about Blues performances in the history of the art is the recording that Louis Armstrong did of West End Blues, with its famous opening trumpet riff that sets up the song to come-- and the creamy voice of "Satchmo," as Louis Armstrong was called.

The Smithsonian Collection of Classic Jazz Street Cries and Creole Songs of New Orleans (Folkways Records-- usually available in libraries) Roots of the Blues (New World Records- again, in libraries. The Great War (SONY Classical); issued in collaboration with National Public Radio, with a program booklet written by Linda Kobler. Contains both popular and classical music of WWI.

ATTENTION: While we are on the topic of popular musics, I need to point out some errors in the Study Guide!  In Section VI-19, under "The American Musical and Music in Film" the correct answers to the first 7 questions are: A, C, G, E, D, F, B.  You probably realized this already, since the answers that are given did not make any sense, but just in case this escaped your notice, I wanted to draw your attention to it.

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