This is lecture 2 from the fall series of Music Americana. It is meant to be read in tandem with a series of videos; if you want to see those you'll need to attend the class.
Lecture
2—Gene
and Dinah
Today’s lecture may seem like a strange pairing of talent, a
man who was primarily a dancer and a singer known for her voice and
interpretive ability. But look closer and we see they both are trying to
do the same thing: to interpret the music, make it come alive. Let’s
start with Gene Kelly, who as a leading man in Hollywood musicals was
probably a better singer than people remember, because he was such an
amazing dancer. In fact, if you ever watch those historic documentaries
about Hollywood, you are, sooner or later, going to see this video,
because it is considered one of the greatest song and dance routines of
all time.
GK1-darain
Singing In The Rain, from the film
of the same title, and on roller skates from the 1954 film It’s Always
Fair Weather, that’s Eugene Curran Kelly, born August 23, 1912 in the
East Liberty neighborhood of Pittsburgh, third son of James, a
phonograph salesman, and Harriet Kelly, an Irish Canadian family who’d
immigrated from Ontario. When he was 8, Kelly's mother enrolled him and
brother James in dance class; neighborhood boys called them sissies and
they quit. But young Gene was a natural athlete and good at sports, and
at 15, now able to defend himself, he took up dance again, graduated
from Peabody High at 16 and entered Penn State, til the 1929 crash
forced him to work for his family, so he and younger brother Fred danced
and won prizes in talent contests. The act also let them observe other
acts; according to author C Hirshorn in Gene Kelly, a Biography, “Gene
made up his mind to 'steal' as much as he could from numerous touring
shows...both he and Fred were absolutely shameless when it came to
pilfering, and very good at it." Let’s check out their act, when they
re-enacted an early bit in 1954.
GK2-joey
Kelly re-enrolled at the U of
Pittsburgh and joined the Cap and Gown Club, which staged musicals; he
graduated in 1933 and was admitted to Pitt’s Law School. Meanwhile, his
family opened a dance studio and named it The Gene Kelly Studio; he also
taught at the Beth Shalom Synagogue until 1937, when he moved to New
York to seek work as a choreographer. He didn’t find any, and returned
to Pittsburgh in 1938, and then got his first job as a choreographer, at
the Pittsburgh Playhouse. There he met choreographer Robert Alton, who
brought a show to the Playhouse and saw Kelly teaching. Alton took Kelly
back to NY, and this time he connected with a musical revue, One for the
Money, and danced to his own choreography in the Pulitzer Prize–winning
The Time of Your Life in 1939, followed by his first job as a Broadway
choreographer for Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe. The biggest break came
in 1940 as the lead role in Rodgers and Hart's Pal Joey, choreographed
by Alton; his dancing and energy were soon the stuff of stardom, and
reporters wanted to know how he did it.
“I create what the drama and the
music demand,” he said. “While I am a hundred percent for ballet
technique, I use only what I can adapt to my own use. I never let
technique get in the way of mood or continuity." Colleagues noticed his
work ethic; Van Johnson told the press “It was midnight and we had been
rehearsing since 8 in the morning ...I could see just a single lamp
burning. Under it, a figure was dancing...Gene."
In 1941 Kelly signed with David O. Selznick and headed for
Hollywood; Selznick then sold half his contract to MGM to appear in For
Me and My Gal with Judy Garland. Kelly said he felt "appalled at the
sight of myself blown up twenty times. I had an awful feeling that I was
a tremendous flop." But the movie did well, and MGM bought the rest of
his contract and gave him the lead in Du Barry Was a Lady with Lucille
Ball. MGM cut most of the Cole Porter songs that made the stage play a
hit; Kelly’s version of Do I Love You was one of the few left in. MGM
then loaned him to Columbia for Cover Girl with Rita Hayworth, where
they sang Long Ago & Far Away and he danced it with his own
reflection. After a stint in the U.S. Naval Air Service working in the
Photographic Section in Washington, Kelly signed on for Anchors Aweigh
in 1945, where MGM let him write dance routines with co-stars Frank
Sinatra and Jerry Mouse, an animation by Hanna and Barbera that made
critic Manny Farber write "Kelly is the most exciting dancer to appear
in Hollywood movies." And he was nominated for an Academy Award for Best
Actor.
It was a winning formula, teaming
him up with actresses; Garland, for example, was an important singer
who’d learned to dance as a child vaudevillian. Kelly could sing well
enough to hold his own, and as a dancer, well, there’s a moment in
almost every duet when his dance partner realizes, “Holy Cow, this guy’s
good.” And it wasn’t just the ladies.
GK3-bigtime
In 1946 Kelly teamed up with the
other greatest male dancer, Fred Astaire, for "The Babbitt and the
Bromide" in Ziegfeld Follies.
He was to star opposite Garland in Easter Parade, but broke his ankle
playing volleyball; while healing, MGM had him design a series of dance
routines, which led The Pirate,
opposite Judy Garland and The Nicholas Brothers in Be A Clown, a routine
today regarded as a classic, though the film flopped in
1949. Two pictures later came Take
Me Out to the Ball Game, his second with Sinatra, which convinced
MGM to let Kelly choreograph and direct On
the Town, a story of three sailors on 24-hour leave in NY. On The
Town made history as the first musical to shoot in the streets of New
York instead of Hollywood; Kelly brought his friend and Broadway co-star
Stanley Donen in to handle the staging and said "when you are involved
in doing choreography for film you must have expert assistants. I needed
one to watch my performance, and one to work with the cameraman on the
timing...without such people …I could never have done these things." He
then gave Donen co-director credit. Kelly also introduced modern ballet
into the dance sequences, substituting leading ballet specialists
onscreen for the other actors. On the Town won an Academy Award for its
Compton and Green music, earned great reviews, and is today ranked #19
on the AFI’s list of movie musicals. In 1950 he performed "You, You
Wonderful You" in Summer Stock
with Garland, her last musical for MGM; Kelly earned a lot of respect
from the MGM studio heads for his patience, helping the ailing Garland
complete her part.
He was just hitting his stride; in
1951 he choreographed and starred in An
American
in Paris, dancing to Gershwin’s greatest hits. The film won six
Academy Awards, including Best Picture, and debuted 19-year-old
ballerina Leslie Caron, who Kelly found in Paris. Their 17-minute dream
sequence, with sets and costumes taken from painters Dufy, Renoir,
Utrillo, Rousseau, and Toulouse-Lautrec, was at $450,000
the most expensive scene ever filmed at the time. It’s the only film to
win Best Picture with no actors nominated, though Kelly won an honorary
award for his work in musicals and dance.
Though the long dance sequence ends with Caron as just a dream,
a few seconds later she does run up the cathedral steps and come back to
him. And that makes an interesting contrast between Kelly and Fred
Astaire; Astaire, the quintessence of debonair, usually didn’t get the
girl in his movies. Even Ginger Rogers seemed to look at him when he
wasn’t dancing as if he was a frog. Kelly, who said of Astaire’s top hat
and tails “I put them on and look like a truck driver," preferred
workingman’s clothing, even white socks. He was no sissy, saying
“dancing is a man's game" and “if a man dances effeminately he dances
badly," and he trained relentlessly to keep in shape. Johnny Green, head
of MGM music, said “He's a hard taskmaster and he loves hard work. If
you want to play on his team you'd better like hard work, too. He isn't
cruel but he is tough, and if Gene believed in something he didn't care
who he was talking to…he wasn't awed by anybody, and he had a good
record of getting what he wanted.” He was handsome, athletic and
masculine, and when he got the girl, it made sense.
The AFI ranks An American In Paris
#9 in its list of musical films; his next picture, Singin' in the Rain,
was not as immediate a success, but is today ranked #1 on the AFI list,
with its iconic title song and dance. Kelly then took a detour and spent
19 months in Europe working on Invitation to the Dance, a pet project to
bring modern ballet to mainstream audiences that flopped when released
in 1956. He returned to Hollywood but was forced to shoot Brigadoon,
with Cyd Charisse, on studio back lots instead of in Scotland. In 1956
came It’s Always Fair Weather, with the roller-skating sequence we saw
earlier, then Kelly's last musical film for MGM, Les Girls in 1957, with
a trio of ladies including Mitzi Gaynor. But ticket sales dropped off;
MGM stopped believing in musicals, releasing them to drive-ins instead
of legitimate theaters, and Kelly negotiated an exit from his contract.
The era of musicals was largely over, at least for him; but let’s see
these last films, and what he did after that.
GK4-vamp
Kelly had learned about
photography in the Navy, and after the musicals ran out he had a
distinguished career as a movie director and non-singing actor,
appearing in Inherit The Wind and Let’s Make Love. His first tv was for
NBC's Omnibus documentary, Dancing is a Man's Game 1958, where he
interpreted Mickey Mantle, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Bob Cousy’s moves,
getting an Emmy nomination. But he was more than a mere athlete, he was
a serious student of dance, influenced early 20th-century
star George M. Cohan: "It's an Irish quality, a jaw-jutting,
up-on-the-toes cockiness—which is a good quality for a male dancer to
have," and by African American dancer, Robert Dotson, whom he saw
perform in Pittsburgh in 1929. He also studied Spanish dancing under
Angel Cansino, Rita Hayworth's uncle. But I think the key phrase here is
“interpreting the music”; I think it’s important that he conceptualized
dance as similar to a vocal, that it’s role was to express wordlessly
the thoughts of the music. Critics noted that he usually
used tap and popular idioms to express joy and exuberance, and used
ballet or modern dance for pensive or romantic feelings.
A fluent French speaker, he went
to Paris in 1960 to create a modern ballet for the Paris Opera; Pas de
Dieux, based on Greek mythology with music from Gershwin's Concerto in
F, earned him the Chevalier of the Legion d'Honneur. He appeared
frequently on tv in the 1960s, notably as the priest in Going My Way,
and directed more films, but rarely sang or danced anymore, and a 1973
appearance on a Frank Sinatra special shows why. In 1976 he directed and
co-starred with Fred Astaire in That's Entertainment, Part II, getting
the 77-year-old Astaire to perform song and dance duets remembering the
glory days. His final film role was in Xanadu in 1980, an expensive flop
that turns up on late night tv now and then.
Gene Kelly married three times, to
actress Betsy Blair in 1941, one child, in 1960 to choreographic
assistant Jeanne Coyne, two children. Coyne died in 1973, and he married
Patricia Ward in 1990. Kelly was a lifelong Democratic and member of the
Committee for the First Amendment, the Hollywood delegation that
protested the House Committee on Un-American Activities. He was also on
the board of directors of the Writers Guild of America West, and a Roman
Catholic who officially quit the church in 1939 when the Church
supported Franco in the Spanish Civil War, and after a trip to Mexico
convinced him the Church had failed the poor. He was a lifelong fan of
the Pittsburgh Steelers and New York Yankees who, with his wife,
organized weekly parties at their Beverly Hills home to play a
competitive and physical version of charades known as "The Game". He
never won an Oscar, except for Lifetime awards, but was given Kennedy
Center Honors in 1982 and a Lifetime Award from the American Film
Institute in 1985, that’s his acceptance speech. And of course he had
the ultimate honor, singing with the Muppets.
Gene Kelly died of a stroke, in
Beverly Hills, February 2, 1996, age 83. His body was cremated, without
funeral or memorial services, and his papers given to the Howard Gotlieb
Archival Research Center at Boston University. Like Fred Astaire, he
didn’t make records of the songs he sang, which were often vehicles for
the ensuing dance; nonetheless, he was a great interpreter of music.
Our second artist today was also
known as a great interpreter of songs, one of those rare singers who
could stand there and sing and be totally captivating.
DQ1-evil
Let’s start with the first song:
What A Difference A Day Makes was originally written in Spanish by María
Grever, a Mexican songwriter, in 1934 with the title "Cuando vuelva a tu
lado" ("When I Return to Your Side"). English lyrics were written by
Stanley Adams, and in 1934 it was recorded by the Dorsey Brothers and
other artists. Dinah Washington won a Grammy in 1959 for Best Rhythm and
Blues Performance with this slowed down, pensive version; the hit
single, even slower and more intense, was inducted into the Grammy Hall
of Fame in 1998. In 1959, twenty years singing professionally, it was
the first top ten hit for Dinah Washington, born Ruth Lee Jones August
29, 1924 in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Her family moved to Chicago when she
was 4, where she played piano in St. Luke's Baptist Church in elementary
school, directed her church choir in her teens and joining the Sallie
Martin Gospel Singers. After winning a talent contest at 15, she began
performing in clubs, and by 1942 was in the Downbeat Room of the Sherman
Hotel with Fats Waller. A friend took her to hear Billie Holiday at the
Garrick Stage Bar, where she sang "I Understand" with the band; owner
Joe Sherman quickly hired her for his upstairs room, with Holiday
downstairs. It’s Sherman who changed Ruth Jones’ stage name to Dinah
Washington, naming her after one of Bessie Smith’s biggest hits. Lionel
Hampton heard her and hired her as his female vocalist, and with him she
made her debut on Keynote records in December 1943 with "Evil Gal Blues"
and its follow-up, "Salty Papa Blues", both making Billboard's "Harlem
Hit Parade" in 1944. We also heard That’s All I Ask Of You, from 1955; I
couldn’t find it listed in her album tracks, and don’t know if it was
ever released as a recording.
Washington toured with Hampton's band until 1946, an
eye-opening experience for a nineteen-year old raised in church. It was
her only real experience as a big band singer, because with this kind of
talent, it wasn’t long before she had her own career.
DW2-getlost
After Keynote folded, Washington
signed as a solo with Mercury; her first record, Fats Waller's "Ain't
Misbehavin'", was a hit, and between 1948 and 1955, she recorded 100
songs and had 27 R&B top ten hits, making her one of the most
popular singers of her time. Two of her early tunes hit #1 on the
R&B charts, "Am I Asking Too Much" in 1948 and "Baby Get Lost" in
1949, and "I Wanna Be Loved" in 1950 made it to #22 on the main pop
chart. She had a distinctive sound and a restrained style that was most
compelling in the blues, but she also covered standards, novelties, pop
tunes, and even Hank Williams' "Cold, Cold Heart", a #3 R&B hit in
1951. She bought a townhouse in Chicago for her mother and children to
live in as she toured; when home, she entertained and took the kids
shopping, surviving bad marriages, constant friction with her religious
mother and her own drug use. And she kept on having hits.
DW3-newyork
Teach Me Tonight in 1954 was
Washington’s second single to make the pop charts at #23, and the first
in four years; a Sammy Cahn lyric, it’s been recorded by many singers,
including the Decastro Sisters, whose version hit #2 a year later. But
like Pat Boone’s covers of Fats Domino hits, no one plays the DeCastros
today, Washington’s version is the gold standard for this tune, as it
should be; it’s exactly what she did best, turning a pop tune by a white
Hollywood songwriter into a torch blues. She could sing fast when she
wanted to; Lover Come Back To Me, from the 1954 album Dinah Jams, is a
great set of her singing jazz with Clifford Brown, Clark
Terry, Maynard Ferguson, Junior Mance on piano and Max Roach on drums,
she swings pretty well. But her best stuff is the slow bounce, a ballad
with a beat, with air in the notes, like Only A Moment Ago, another song
on video that was apparently never released on its own, so you have to
ask, why did they video that instead of one of her hits? I don’t know,
but it’s good. What I also notice is that it’s from 1954, she was
thirty; she certainly looks older, heavy, puffy and middle-aged, perhaps
as a result of the abusive marriages and drugs.
In 1956 Washington moved her
children and self to New York and was even more successful, playing the
Newport Jazz Festival for four straight years, with regular gigs at
Birdland and the International Jazz Festival in Washington, D.C. "What a
Diff'rence a Day Makes", her biggest hit, hit #4 in 1959, and you may
remember from our first video at the Apollo Theater that Louis Jordan
calls her The Queen of The Blues, and the audience applauds the opening
line, they recognize her hit right away. According to Wikipedia she gave
herself the moniker Queen Of The Blues, but Jordan certainly agrees. She
had her own band, with Kenny Burrell on guitar, future Weather Report
leader Joe Zawinul on piano, and Panama Francis on drums. Hit songs
included two duets in 1960 with Brook Benton, "Baby (You've Got What It
Takes)" and "A Rockin' Good Way (To Mess Around and Fall in Love)", #s 5
and 7 on the top ten and both #1 on the R & B charts. She recorded
mostly standards, including a cover of "Unforgettable" that, unlike Nat
"King" Cole's, actually has some rhythm in it; critics wrote she was
trying too hard to repeat the success of What A Difference A Day Makes.
But that was an obscure song she had popularized herself; it’s much
harder to have hits with songs other people have already made famous.
Her last charted single was "September in the Rain" in 1961, #23 Pop, #5
R&B. None of these was ever recorded on video; there are only five
live cuts on video of one of the most influential singers of her time,
and no interviews. It was said she and Benton didn’t get along, they
only recorded together to please the label, and never sang live together
anywhere. And perhaps, as a famously difficult person, she wasn’t a
welcome tv guest. There is, however, this great biography from the BBC,
and from 1958, Send Me To The ‘Lectric Chair, which does seem to support
the theory that she didn’t worry about what anyone might think; it’s
from the album Dinah sings Bessie Smith. She was a big fan of Smith and
Billie Holliday, that’s where she got that economy of phrasing, that
sparseness that never overstates its case, even when she’s wailing. So
it’s no surprise that she was herself a major influence on later singers
who also wanted to sing the blues.
DW4-all
And that, with her head cut off
and the ending chopped, is the last video I could find of this
remarkable singer, it’s from the Newport Jazz Festival in 1958. Before
that we heard one of this century's blues mommas, Amy Winehouse, who,
like Washington, lived the blues until it killed her; and Aretha
Franklin, who did an entire album of songs popularized by Washington in
1964, just before she gave up the blues to sing rock and soul. I suppose
the lack of videos reflects that she was not a popular person; she was
frequently chided in the press for such remarks as telling an audience
at the London Palladium, with Queen Elizabeth sitting right there,
"There is but one Heaven, one Hell, one queen, and your Elizabeth is an
imposter." I presume she meant herself, the Queen of the Blues.
Dinah Washington was married seven times, beginning at 18 in
1942 and last to pro-football player Dick "Night Train" Lane. She had
two sons: George Jenkins with her 2d husband, and Robert Grayson with
her third, he’s in these interviews. She was an outspoken liberal
Democrat, and used a lot of prescription drugs, so it’s no big surprise
that on December 14, 1963, Night Train Lane awoke to find her dead at 39
from a lethal combination of secobarbital and amobarbital. She is buried
in the Burr Oak Cemetery in Alsip, Illinois.
I was surprised to find how short her life was; I remember her
later hits, she already seemed ancient to me. She was a wonderful
singer, with a real distinctive style, and underneath the few videos on
youtube are many comments from people who call her their all-time
favorite singer, quite a compliment. She won one Grammy, in 1959 for
Best R & B Performance for What a Difference a Day Makes, one of
three recordings inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame, along with
Unforgettable and Teach Me Tonight. She’s also in the Rock and Roll Hall
of Fame as an Early Influence, and in the Big Band and Jazz Hall of
Fame, and in 2013, Tuscaloosa, AL, her birthplace, opened the newly
renovated Dinah Washington Cultural Arts Center.
People ask, what's the difference between blues and jazz? While
some people think all jazz has to have some blues, that to me is like
saying all country music has to have a truck. Blues is often described
as a feeling, there's the awareness of suffering even as one makes music
with joy. In musical terms blues usually has simplicity of lyrics,
direct statements of feeling expressed in layman's terms. It’s not the
sophistication of Cole Porter, or Mr Tambourine Man, it’s “my baby left
me,” not “there's an incessant plethora of lies”. Straight blues often
has a simple form with two repeated lines, and
the third line is the punchline, My baby left me didn't say goodby 2x,
Every mornin' I wake up and cry. What Dinah Washington, the self-styled
Queen of the Blues, did was to take standard pop and show tunes and sing
them as if they were blues, with that directness and taut phrasing.
That’s why R & B, which evolved as a separate marketplace for black
music without directly involving white people, is a separate genre from
jazz; jazz, especially today, is a genre for complicated musicianship
and improvisation, much of it academic, and doesn’t lend itself to
simple, direct emotions in the same way.
But as with Gene Kelly, it does come down to interpretation, to
the ability to portray the words and music in a way that makes them come
alive before our eyes. Let’s take a pop song, written in 1953, and treat
it as Dinah did, as a blues, even while we play the original chord
changes and sing the showbiz melody.
Singing
In The Rain