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Then in 1906 his pieces started to appear again, this time with New York native journalist Victor H. Smalley. One of their first pieces was Dat Lovin' Rag, dedicated to W.B. Dixon of St. Paul, Minnesota, where Smalley would be residing by 1910. Published first in Chicago, the piece got picked up by F.B. Haviland in New York where it saw a measure of success. This simple ragtime song was integrated into a 1907 play with lyrics and libretto by the ambitious Smalley. The Merry Widower had a short 1908 run at the famous Pekin Theater. While the play did not endure, the song did through the efforts of rising star Sophie Tucker. In fact, the feedback she got from Dat Lovin' Rag convinced her to steer more towards syncopated songs in her act, soon propelling her to national stardom. The piece also became a solo piano rag with a little bit of rearranging in 1908, one of those rare instances where the instrumental version came after the song.
Theron C. Bennett was born in Pierce City, Missouri, to Vermont native George Nelson Bennett and his Missouri wife Hattie Bennett. It appears he was an only child to the druggist and his wife. After his schooling in Missouri, during which his mother died in the 1890s,
 Theron attended New Mexico College of Agriculture and Mechanic Arts (now New Mexico State University) in Las Cruces, where he obtained a degree focused on music, but possibly with some business background. While there he engaged in organizing a minstrel troupe of around twenty members with one of the professors. As of the 1900 Census, Theron still listed Pierce City as his home base.Bennett's first publication, Pickaninny Capers, came in 1902, the year he graduated. It was followed by the successful and suggestive self-published Satisfied: An Emotional Drag in 1903. This got the attention of publisher Victor Kremer of Chicago who hired him as a composer and arranger and bought Satisfied for reissue as well. It turned out to be a fortuitous move for both when in 1904 Bennett took the notorious "Buddy Bolden/Funky Butt" strain from New Orleans and incorporated into St. Louis Tickle, one of many pieces exploiting the 1904 Lewis and Clark Exposition (World's Fair) in St. Louis, Missouri. It was published using the names Barney & Seymore as the composers, in part to perhaps sound like a vaudeville act, and in part to perhaps protect the composer's identity if the use of the wicked strain backfired. Fortunately it did not, and St. Louis Tickle, clearly a hit at the fair and often recorded since, ended up selling well for over two decades. Bennett also contributed a set of waltzes to the fair's musical mélange under his own name. Theron wrote two fine rags over the next few years, including Sweet Pickles and Pork and Beans. He also composed an Indian intermezzo, a popular genre at that time started by Theron's friend Charles N. Daniels' and his non-Indian piece Hiawatha. Lovelight was released as an instrumental, and as two songs with different lyric sets in different keys. Around 1908, as the Kremer firm began to dissipate, starting with the defection of its namesake owner, Bennett formed his own music firm which published his own works plus notable pieces like All the Grapes, California Sunshine and Melancholy Baby. His first move was to Omaha, Nebraska, in 1908 where he opened a new piano dealership. He was in Omaha for the 1910 Census as a musician in a store. Within a couple of years, he had settled in Denver, Colorado, but still traveled regularly to the retailers he distributed his works, including New York, St. Louis and Omaha.  One of the more notorious episodes of his publishing career has to do with W.C. Handy's Memphis Blues. As the story goes, Bennett was visiting his Memphis representative L.Z. Phillips at Bry's Department Store. Phillips had agreed to print Memphis Blues for Handy on speculation based on the clear potential of good sales, and was waiting for the first 1000 copies for distribution in Memphis. Based on Phillips recommendation, Bennett told Handy he would act as a distribution agent offering him national exposure, a deal hard to turn down. Phillips and Bennett were both present with Handy when the initial delivery of 1000 copies was made. When Handy came to check on sales a weeks after the delivery, Phillips and Bennett showed him a stack of nearly the full 1000 copies, noting that sales were slow, and encouraged him to simply sell the piece outright, which a confused Handy, who knew the piece had been popular, agreed to for a mere $50. What they did not tell Handy was that this was the second stack of 1000 as the first 1000 copies had sold out quickly. A few weeks later, another 10,000 copies were ordered with Bennett's imprint, and Zimmerman was offered a job as a wholesale manager. Within months, Bennett sold the piece to publisher Joe Morris for a rather large amount. To make matters worse, Bennett's frequent lyricist George Norton was hired by Morris to add words to a song version of Memphis Blues which were only fair at best, and which Handy objected to. The whole episode compelled Handy to form his own music company, Handy and Pace, which was successful on its own merits for many years.Bennett pulled a similar number on Ernie Burnett's Melancholy, first getting Burnett to agree to have Norton replace the lyrics that Burnett's wife Maybelle Watson had penned, then altering the title to Melancholy Baby after having bought it outright. The piece did very well for the publisher throughout most of his remaining life. During this period Bennett also started a chain of music stores with his profits from the sales, primarily offering sheet music and records. He had outlets in Denver, New York City, Omaha, Chicago, St. Louis and Memphis. Bennett continued to write and publish some of his own works as well. Chills and Fevers was a good seller for his company. In Denver, Theron was listed in the mid to late-1910s as not only a publisher but as the proprietor of the Dutch Mill Cafe (a descendant of which is still in operation today), which was also a music store. It was evidently one of the great meeting places of Denver musicians and artists. In 1917 he published the song Around Her Neck She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, which is the source of the tradition for yellow ribbons in honor of those who have gone to war, and possibly the later song Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Old Oak Tree. The authorship of this song remains disputed to this day, but it was likely an older folk melody that Bennett simply adapted and arranged. When it was later included in the John Wayne film She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, Leroy Parker and M. Ottner received composition credit. His 1918 draft record also describes him as being short with medium build, and black hair with brown eyes. It also indicates that his father had now retired to Florida. Existing records indicate that he likely never married. In the 1920 Census Theron is listed as the manager of a department store, likely the sheet music department within the store.
After a decade or so in Denver, Bennett followed the crowds down to Southern California in 1922, and remained there for the rest of his life. It wasn't long before he formed a jazz band primarily composed of band students from the University of Southern California (USC) as well as his own society orchestra. His group was among the first to play live on the new medium of radio before the end of 1922. As referenced in The Music Trade Review of April 14, 1923: "Edgar F. Bitner, general manager of Leo Feist, Inc., who is touring the Pacific Coast accompanied by Mrs. Bitner, was tendered an unusual entertainment prior to his departure from Los Angeles, when an all-Feist program was broadcasted [sic] from the Anthony Studios, [KFI] station, through the courtesy of Herb Wiedoeft's orchestra... Theron Bennett, the well-known orchestra leader who conducts the Green Mill Orchestra in Los Angeles, and who has been a close friend of Mr. Bitner for many years, did much to entertain the party during its stay in Los Angeles." He also conducted the Packard Six Orchestra (sponsored by the automobile company of the same name), and still appeared with his Dutch Mill Orchestra, both frequently hear on KFI. In the mid 1920s KFI, a clear channel station, could often be heard as far off as the East Coast, reflected in the radio listings of papers like The Washington Post and The Bridgeport [Connecticut] Telegram. In the mid 1920s Bennett opened his own school of popular music, dance music and jazz piano at 3290 W. Pico Boulevard in Los Angeles, advertising it heavily in 1926. He also served as the president of the California organization of former New Mexico students for his alma mater. As of 1930 Bennett was listed as a music teacher with a house mate, Austen Peerly, a local gardener and landscaper 30 years younger than the composer. As the Great Depression settled in, his businesses all folded and he lost virtually all of his assets. Theron Bennett died nearly destitute in 1937 at age 57 after a prolonged illness. The official obituary in the Los Angeles Times incorrectly listed Melancholy Baby and Memphis Blues as being among his compositions, which further exacerbated that lingering issue. The New York Times got it correct, however. He left behind a fair body of pieces that he either composed or published, and some of them are pieces that are still well remembered today as important works of the ragtime era. Bennett was honored at the one of the earliest ragtime festivals organized by Bob Darch in Pierce City in September 1961. | |||||||
Irving Berlin, perhaps more than any other composer of the first half of the 20th Century and beyond, represents America and American Music at its finest. Given his background it becomes even more extraordinary when one understands his contributions to this adopted country of his. Berlin also managed to stay right on the cusp of popular forms to which he was contributing, not mastering them, but certainly writing into them well. It is likely that he wrote AND published more songs than any other popular song writer in history, wrote hundreds of unpublished or unpublishable tunes as well, and likely created more pieces than any other 20th century writer as both composer and lyricist. He was also quirky, but in spite of not being a movie star in stature, he was a true American favorite among the public and among the stars as well. From truly humble beginnings Berlin managed to build a musical empire and a legacy that is hard to match and remains with us in the 21st century.
Early Years
This great American was actually born in Mogilev (modern day Belarus) or Tehmen (according to his 1942 draft record, but at variance with other records), Russia in 1888 as Israel Isidore Baline, to Jewish parents Moses Baline and Leah (Yarchin) Baline. His father was a cantor who sometimes worked as a shochet (the person who kills animals in a kosher manner for sale and consumption) as well to support his wife and eight children. In the face of the increasing progroms and oppression of Jews in Russia, Baline moved his family to the United States when Israel, the youngest sibling, was around five. Perhaps the first hint of the coming name change, the family is shown on the arrival list of the Rhynland on September 14, 1893, as the Beilin family, but it is not clear whether they actually adopted the Berlin last name when they immigrated.
Moses found work in New York certifying Kosher meat before it went to market, while his wife kept house. When Israel was around eight his father died, leaving the boy and his older brothers and sisters (one already working as a domestic) in the position of helping their mother survive in the New York ghetto. So he and his siblings went to work as news butchers, delivery boys, and whatever odd jobs they could find, usually at the sacrifice of sufficient schooling. He picked up some singing skills as well, although the boy never had formal training in piano, voice, or even harmony and theory. He was simply a natural.  In 1902 Izzy, as he was often referred to, left home to make try to find his own way in the world. The fourteen-year-old sang in bars, or on the streets, and continued to do whatever odd jobs he could find. The hardships he encountered would stick with him throughout his life, as even though he eventually had more money that he could imagine, he was still very cautious with it. This reality may have also formed his work ethic, feeling the need to always be productive. A side job for the boy was as a song plugger or demonstrator (as a vocalist) for Harry Von Tilzer, but this was not steady work. Still, it placed him in Tony Pastor's famed Vaudeville house, and got him some notice among musicians.By 1906, at 18, Izzy had a job as a singing waiter at Callahan's, and then Pelham's Cafe in Chinatown (some sources also cite a place called Nigger Mike's). Since a rival pub had their own song published in 1907 (it was increasingly easy to get a song into print in Manhattan by this time), the owner asked Izzy if he help to write one for Pelham's. Baline fitted lyrics to a melody by the cafe's pianist, Nick Nicholson, and in short order, Marie from Sunny Italy became the first of his songs in print. This was quite a feat as he was still having some difficulty with English, as Russian had been spoken in his home, and Yiddish was the common language on the streets, but he showed a propensity for clever rhyming. Izzy made a whopping 37 cents in royalties, but he gained something more - his famous name. The cover artist and printer misread the name and put it down as "I. Berlin," but since it sounded much more Americanized, he adopted Irving Berlin as his legal name. (Note that this is the most common story, although the Ellis Island arrival list cannot be discounted as a contributing possibility). The published effort managed to gain Berlin some small fame, and he next found himself singing at Jimmy Kelly's establishment, a bit closer to Tin Pan Alley than he had previously been. Encouraged by the minor sucess of Marie, and in spite of what was still an English handicap, Berlin set out to contribute lyrics to more tunes. In some cases, he would create a set of lyrics and be in search of an existing melody or a potential writer for that melody. In the year following Marie this translated into a total of two more pieces. However, 1909 would prove to be the year of his emergence as a great lyricist. Remember that Babe Ruth was initially known for his pitching prowess, so that the immigrant Berlin was utilized as a pitcher of lyrics makes for a better story, once his other true talent was revealed. Berlin had been experimenting with his own melodies, which had to be hummed to a pianist who would translate them. Through watching, he soon learned enough tricks to be able to pound out his own melodies, albeit usually transcribed by a copyist or arranger. The incident that spurred him on to be a music writer involved another early song, Dornado. Irving had his own definitive idea about how the melody for the piece should sound, but the collaborator who transcribed it came out with something quite different. So Berlin struck out to find someone who could literally translate the melody, and Dornado was born. It got him enough notice that Ted Snyder, who had recently come from Chicago and opened both Seminary Music and Ted Snyder Publishing in Manhattan, hired Berlin as a staff lyricist in early 1909. According to Berlin's obituary, he had taken a lyric to Snyder for consideration in late 1908. The newly minted publisher asked to hear the melody. Even though Irving had not considered adding his own tune to the lyric, he improvised one on the spot, hummed to Snyder's pianist/arranger, and performed it right away. Snyder was impressed enough to bring Berlin into the fold in short order. His hiring was announced in the New York Clipper on March 20, 1909:  A lad, scarcely out of his teens, possessing remarkable talent as a popular song writer, has just signed a five year contract with the Ted Snyder Music Company. His name is Irving Berlin, and although a little over twenty years of age, the young scribe has developed an ability of more than ordinary quality. He writes all manner of songs, with a facility that is astonishing because of the fact that he has never been endowed with any musical training.Henry Waterson, of the Ted Snyder Company, immediately recognized in young Berlin talent out of the ordinary. Encouraging him in the pursuit of his vocation, Messrs. Waterson and Snyder induced Berlin to perfect several manuscripts which they immediately proceeded to put into press. Three of these are particularly novel and valuable. They are entitled, respectively: "Sadie Salome Go Home." a comic dialect; "Dorandor!" an Italian humorous ditty, and "No One Could Do It Like My Father," another witty efusion. Further oddities from this writer's pen are shortly to follow and the Ted Snyder firm will push them with the same profitable vigor as has been evidenced in their famous "My Dream of the U.8.A." and "Beautiful Eyes* numbers. While Berlin lyrics were fitted to the music of a few other Snyder composers, it soon became evident that he and Snyder were a good match, and they started turning out a number of appreciably good tunes on a regular basis. Two rags that were turned into songs with Berlin's lyrics, George Botsford's Dance of the Grizzly Bear, and Snyder's own Wild Cherries, translated into good sales for the company. Snyder also let Irving work with transcribers to turn out his own songs, including two early lasting efforts, Yiddle, on Your Fiddle, Play Some Ragtime and That Mesmerizing Mendelssohn Tune, both from 1909. In 1910, the output from Berlin as well as his collaborations with Snyder exploded in quantity, although other than Grizzly Bear there were no enormous successes. He appears in the 1910 Census as Irving Berlin, head of household, living with his mother and his sister Augusta, his occupation that of Music Writer. The following year, 1911, would prove to be the turning point in Berlin's writing career, and his earliest major success was also touched with a bit of controversy. Gaining Success
Having become more competent as a pianist, albeit in a limited fashion, but more valuable also as one who could recognize good work when it came across his desk,  Berlin was also utilized to review the works of other composers for publication, and became Snyder's right hand man. One of these composers was Scott Joplin, who in 1911 was shopping his opera Treemonisha around Tin Pan Alley in hopes of getting it in print, and raising money to stage it. There is a good chance that the score came across Berlin's desk. Later in that year with the help of Snyder arranger Alfred Doyle he re-purposed an earlier unsuccessful song, Alexander and His Clarinet, with a new verse, a tune we all now know as Alexander's Ragtime Band. This new verse was highly similar to the original melody of Joplin's A Real Slow Drag which closed the opera. In fact, it was reported by Joplin's surviving wife, Lottie Stokes Joplin, that he likely altered the melody afterwards so it did not match the verse to Alexander's Ragtime Band. A newspaper notice of that time also noted that Joplin was looking for Mr. Berlin on a certain matter, which may have been concerning the potentially subconscious plagiarism. The issue was never fully resolved, but the facts seem plausible.The chorus of Alexander's Ragtime Band is similarly constructed from existing tunes, including the Reveille bugle call and Stephen Collins Foster's Old Folks at Home (Swanee River). While there is not a lick of actual ragtime syncopation in the piece, it quickly became and has stayed as an anthem of the ragtime era, and it permanently cemented Berlin's name in the songwriting world. The piece was immediately recorded by the Victor Military Band, and even played on the Titanic's maiden (and final) voyage the following year. It has been recorded endlessly by all stripes of music artists, including Ray Charles in a unique arrangement. In the late 1930s a movie was made based on the song. Even in its original printings at least 40 different entertainers were featured on the various covers of the piece. A piano solo version was also available for a while, likely arranged by Doyle. All of this success from one publication, and yet Irving was just beginning his contributions to the Great American Song Book. With Alexander's Ragtime Band, Berlin readily found the pulse of the American music consumer, and did all he could to feed it. It would be some time before he started turning out his famed romantic ballads, but for now he simply became a song machine, with many songs centered around dance or ragtime. He turned enough ragtime-centric songs to be deemed "King of Ragtime Songs," (which should not be confused with syncopated piano ragtime). Even though there were only a couple of scant mentions of him in the news prior to May of 1911, he was suddenly a big item in music and entertainment stories, and his name remained in the press for decades to come. In 1911 and 1912 Berlin and Snyder continued to turn out a tidal wave of tunes, and all told there was a new Berlin song every four to five days, an astonishing feat. His output in 1911 and 1912 alone eclipsed that of the lifetime output of most successful ragtime writers and many popular writers as well.
It should be noted that because of his limitations as a pianist, which were extreme in 1911 and 1912, that Berlin never wrote piano ragtime, nor would he write true jazz or stride. He was and would remain a writer of popular songs. However, Irving was in some sense a proponent of ragtime, reporting on it and encouraging it through his songs. During the ragtime era the ratio of popular songs (verse and chorus tunes that were about any number of topics but not classically composed) to rags, or even rags and intermezzos combined, was at least 20 to 1, and maybe higher. So with Alexander's Ragtime Band, That Mysterious Rag, Oh, That Beautiful Rag and similar tunes, Berlin was simply voicing, or in some cases creating more interest in the music. The success of a song was clear even back then. It needs a good topic and a good musical hook that is easy to remember as well as hum. So for capturing the essence of the ragtime era and making it live far beyond its rumored end in the late 1910s, even with limited syncopation in some of his 1910s pieces, Berlin could very much be considered a viable composer of ragtime, even if not piano rags. Riding high on his successes, Irving gained confidence in himself and his stature as a musician. It should be noted that throughout his career this was never a solo effort, as he never completely gained the necessary skills to notate and arrange his own tunes. With his rudimentary piano skills, which as legend tells it centered around playing the black keys, usually in Gb major, he was able to play sufficient melody and chords to get the general notion of a piece across. But there was usually a ghost writer at his side who turned his ideas into a salable product. Usually in the music industry this person was cited as an arranger, and indeed a few Berlin pieces did have an arranging credit. But for the most part, whether it was initially his decision or that of the other firm's partners, Berlin's name usually stood alone. Among the assistants were composer Cliff Hess, who worked with Berlin from around 1912 to 1917, and later Arthur Johnston and then Helmy Kresa. In some cases a co-composer credit might have been fitting as they worked out some of the chord changes, but it became a Berlin tradition that if it was his melody it was his song. It also became increasingly clear during 1912 and 1913 that he was better able to fit his own lyrics to a proper melody, and collaborations with a handful of lyricists started diminishing, particularly as his solo efforts flew off the store shelves. Irving's induction into ballads came about in a somewhat tragic way. Riding high on the success of his great ragtime hit,  Berlin dated Dorothy Goetz, sister of one of his earlier lyricists, E. Ray Goetz, and they married a few weeks later in February of 1912. They took a honeymoon in Cuba where she contracted typhoid fever, finally succumbing to it in June. Berlin was devastated and unsure how to express his grief over the loss. Goetz suggested that he simply write a ballad about his feelings, and When I Lost You became the first of his many heart-wrenching ballads. He would show up as still single on his 1917 draft record, and remained a widower in the 1920 census. However, a tragedy of this proportion would not strike again in his otherwise charmed life.That same year of 1912 he had another monster hit with When That Midnight Choo Choo Leaves for Alabam which quickly found its way to the vaudeville stage, and the following year would yield a number of fine tunes, including the comedy hit Snooky Ookums. On two tunes of that year, published with another firm, he was credited as Ren. G. May, an anagram for Germany, of which the principal city was, of course, Berlin. He also used this credit to record the tunes, still being a pretty fair singer. As far has methodology for turning out popular tunes in short order, Irving demonstrated this ability during a trip to England, as recounted in the Music Trade Review of July 12, 1913: Following the stories from New York regarding Mr. Berlin's ability to dash off a song and sell it for a couple thousand dollars, all in a few minutes, a representative of the Daily Express, of London, called on him for a practical demonstration, and from it wrote the following story: "Upon receiving the request for a song to order, Mr. Berlin said: "'Usually, I get my rhythm and melody complete before I give them to the "arranger." This is a pretty hard test, but I'll try.'  "He did. He walked about four miles doing it, in the course of two hours. He was never still a moment. "At the finish a new ragtime had grown before its listeners, all complete, from the introduction and vamp to the final chord of the chorus. Afterwards he made up the words."This is how he did it. The 'arranger' sat at the piano, pencil and paper ready. Irving Berlin started a one-step up and down the room, snapping his fingers and jerking his shoulders as he went. He did this for some time. It was the divine afflatus on marionette wires. "Suddenly he stopped, leaned over the 'arranger,' and 'La-ta-ta-ta-tatata,' he began. 'That's the opening line.' "The 'arranger' wrote down the precious notes and played them. "'Fine,' said Irving Berlin; and off he went again, up and down, to and fro, dancing a one-step to imaginary tunes rollicking through his mind. "'Play it again,' he said, with a snap of his fingers. A minute passed. Irving Berlin clapped his hands to his ears and changed the direction of his walk. It came slowly, but when it did come there was a burst of half a dozen bars. "So, gradually, the ragtime is built up." 'Play it once more. I want to get back to the key,' he says, after a half-hour's ineffectual lum-tum-tums.' "Finally, the chorus, the most difficult of all. It has to be catchy, it has to trip and slide, and stop, and drop from key to key and be lifted back again. It has to 'go.' "With a rush the thing is finished. It has been fitted together like a puzzle, intricate little pieces of melody running haphazard nowhere and fading abruptly as other strains follow, with just a semblance of the motif to keep it together." The title of the on-the-spot song was curiously not mentioned. While popular songs and ragtime-oriented and dance tunes were helping Berlin make his name, there was another inevitability awaiting him, and it was literally just up the street from his office.
Broadway Beginnings
Almost since his collaboration with Snyder began, Irving Berlin songs had found their way into shows on Broadway and 42nd Street through interpolation, and given his past dealings with Tony Pastor he was no stranger to the stage either. However in 1914, Berlin finally released one of the first ragtime-based (more in name than in style) musicals (by today's standards musicals of that time would be considered revues) on Broadway. Few stage musicals at that time, perhaps with George M. Cohan's (who wrote a song lauding Irving Berlin melodies a year later) being the exception,
 had songs by any one composer, but Berlin did provide the majority of them for Watch Your Step. His original stated intent was to write a "ragtime opera," although he ended up with a pretty decent revue featuring some syncopation and lots of dancing.For the debut Berlin and his producers already had an ace in the hole, utilizing the recent popularity of the famous dancing couple Vernon and Irene Castle as his stars. Taking some queues from the Ziegfeld Follies, there were even some extravagances displayed on the stage, including a sizable medley of popular opera themes with some syncopation added. The combination of talents in the show made it a great success, and it played initially for 175 performances, a good run at that time. Most of the songs also ended up in print and were sold in the lobby as well as in stores, an added bonus. For the purposes of publishing this show the composer formed his own company, Irving Berlin, Inc., but still remained with Waterson and Snyder who published his popular tunes. One of the tunes in this show quickly gained hit status and eventually became a standard, the finely double-layered Simple Melody (later renamed Play a Simple Melody). The following year he contributed the majority of pieces for Stop! Look! Listen!, which ran for a respectable 105 performances. The standout hit of that show, still with us today, was I Love a Piano, reportedly his favorite tune of all time. After a rather uneventful, and somewhat less prolific year in 1916, Berlin contributed to another show in 1917, Dance and Grow Thin, and tackled the latest musical craze - jazz - with some supposed jazz of his own. The word, which had proliferated into popular usage from late 1916 on, was new, but many song titles started featuring it, including Berlin's own Mister Jazz, Himself. He then did a rare collaboration with the other more established big fish in the Broadway pond, George M. Cohan, and their co-written The Cohan Revue of 1918 previewed on New Year's Eve and ran for 96 performances. Berlin also published the bulk of Cohan's pieces from this period. Some time before that, not yet a U.S. Citizen, Irving was drafted into the United States Army late in 1917, and assigned to Camp Upton at Fort Yiphank. He very quickly took advantage of this situation by writing about it, one of the earliest pieces being a protest song (especially for the musician's lifestyle), Oh, How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning. In an effort to keep to his true talent, he persuaded the brass to let him stage an Army-based show utilizing enlisted men, and they agreed. Now not having to keep to regulation hours, Berlin completed Yip Yip Yiphank and staged 32 performances of it utilizing 350 troops.  While there was no Over There embedded in the work, two of the songs went on to become big standards, one of them held back for two decades. Mandy, which many associate with the Ziegfeld Follies of 1919, was actually first heard in the Army show, but retooled a year later.However, a more somber tune which was prepared for the Army show ended up being pulled, perhaps even before the first performance. It would not be until 1938 that Berlin would pull out the everlasting God Bless America for its first public performance by singer Kate Smith on Armistice Day of that year. It has since become the most revered and most sung tune in America composed by a Russian Jew simply trying to survive the army. The publications of Yip Yip Yiphank were printed with his promotion clearly shown, composed by Sergeant Irving Berlin. On February 6, 1918, Irving Berlin became a naturalized citizen of his adopted country. Since Irving ended up not actually going into combat he was able to maintain a good songwriting pace, and soon after the war he increased the scope of his own firm, taking on works by other composers as well, finally leaving Waterson, Berlin & Snyder at the end of 1918. In 1919 Florenz Ziegfeld, no stranger to Berlin tunes, asked him to contribute as much as he could to that year's Follies. Along with a revamped version of Mandy he came up with what would become the signature Ziegfeld anthem, A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody. In the Jaunary 1920 Census he is shown as a widower living in Manhattan with a secretary and a housekeeper, his occupation as an author of songs. That same year, Berlin similarly contributed a bounty of tunes to Ziegfeld for the 1920 Follies, but he had something else in the works. Carefully using his considerable profits from his musical endeavors, Berlin decided to exercise more control over the environment that his musicals would be in, as well as the availability of a place to stage him, and along with his new partner Sam Harris financed the construction of his own 1025 seat Music Box Theater on 45th Street. The opening show there was his Music Box Revue of 1921 which ran for a rather astonishing (at that time) 440 performances. Three more similar revues were staged over the next four years, each with declining attendance and shorter runs, although still far from tepid. The last of these Music Box Revues in 1925 featured Fannie Brice, but ran for only 194 performances. The Music Box Theater remained busy with other productions that leased it, and is still in business in the 21st century. In 2007 ownership passed from the Berlin estate to the Shubert Theater Organization.
In 1924 Irving started to date socialite Ellin Mackay, 15 years younger than himself, who would become his second wife. But there seemed to be many obstacles in the way of his convincing her to marry him. Among them, his Jewish heritage and upbringing in poverty, contrasted with the fact that she was a devout Irish-American Catholic and heiress to the Comstock Lode mining fortune. Some of his more stirring ballads came as a direct result of songs he wrote for Ellin, including All Alone, Remember, and the wistful weeper What'll I Do. Finally he won her with singing (a plot theme repeated in the movie Holiday Inn several years later), and just before they were married in January of 1926 he wrote the simple and elegant Always for her as well, assigning all of the (considerable) income from the song to Ellin. She was immediately disinherited by her father, and for a time they were snubbed by many members of society for the inter-faith marriage. Irving and Ellin had a daughter, Mary Ellin, within the year. Linda Emmett and Elizabeth Peters would follow, as would Irving Berlin Jr. who would sadly die in childbirth. Following the traveling patterns of Berlin throughout the 1920s, particularly after marrying Ellin, becomes quite an endeavor, since he is listed on dozens of ship manifests going to Europe, the United Kingdom, the Bahamas, Hawaii, and other exotic ports of call. Berlin liked cruises, but when called upon to perform or accompany (as best he could) on these trips he was often stymied by his Gb playing. So he had either four or five special transposing pianos built for him which allowed the keys to slide back and forth underneath the action, facilitating his playing in a suitable key for any occasion. One of these usually accompanied him on a cruise ship, one in the theater, one at the office, one at home, and there may have been a spare. One of these unique pianos resides today in the American History collection of the Smithsonian Institution. Irving's cleverness would pay off for both him and a group of brothers looking for a vehicle that would exploit their singularly unique talents. So in 1925, based on a book by playwright Irving Kaufman, he came up with a nearly schizophrenic set of songs for The Cocoanuts starring the Marx Brothers in their recently redefined personas as Groucho, Chico, Harpo, Zeppo and Gummo. The first incarnation would run 276 performances, with the brothers constantly adjusting the material to the point where it worked flawlessly. It was revived in 1927 with an additional tune for another healthy run, cementing their inevitable success. Berlin's biggest song of 1926 would turn out to be Blue Skies, soon to become a standard through the voice of a new kid on the block, crooner Bing Crosby, who would be a great proponent of Berlin songs. His final contribution to the stage in the 1920s was for the 1927 Ziegfeld Follies, one of the most ambitious years of Ziegfeld's career in which the entrepreneur staged four shows at one time. That same year brought the beautiful instrumental Russian Lullaby. However, through Bing and the Max Brothers and other connections, a new medium was soon to call for the great Berlin. Hollywood, Then Back to Broadway
While Berlin songs sold well throughout the country, they were mostly performed live in New York through the 1920s. However, in 1927, as synchronized sound film became a possibility, a Vitaphone short came out called The Little Princess of Song starring 13-year-old Sylvia Froos, singing Blue Skies. There was enough interest in the piece that Al Jolson, no stranger to Berlin songs by this time, used it for his pivotal "live dialog" scene in The Jazz Singer shortly thereafter, with Bert Fiske playing an offstage piano while Jolson mimed his own playing.
 The movie, that scene in particular, was a sensation, and Blue Skies certainly did not suffer. It went on to be heard on recordings and in movies a panoply of styles, including one 21st (or 24th) century rendition by singer/actor Brent Spiner as Data in the tenth Star Trek movie. But it also meant that Berlin songs could potentially be heard virtually anywhere as performed by stars of the screen. In the early days of sound when dialog was still difficult to capture, but music was much easier to record, many of the earliest sound films became musicals, and they drew on whatever they could find in order to both have new material and capitalize on the subsequent sales of sheet music or records. Berlin was happy to oblige this new trend, and stepped up to the plate.The Cocoanuts finally made it to film via Paramount in 1929, but more than half the tunes were cut from the movies, because without intermissions like live stage shows, people seemed less likely to sit through a full two hour production. However, MGM and other studios would eventually find a way to pack almost as much music into a film as a stage production, often focusing on a single composer for those films. One Berlin song composed in 1929 for a film released in 1930 would actually have four more resurgences over the next few decades, and is clearly an exciting standard today. Written just ahead of the depression, Puttin' On the Ritz (for the film of the same name) combined ragtime and jazz with danceability in a song about snooty rich people. It was retooled in 1946 for Fred Astaire in the movie Blue Skies, becoming much more popular with the newer lyrics. Mel Brooks made it a centerpiece of his 1974 film Young Frankenstein, and later in 2007 as a huge production number for the stage version of the story. And in the early 1980s Danish singer called Taco Ockerse made it into a techno-pop retro-hit in Europe and the United States. In 1929 ragtime veteran Al Jolson asked for more material for his new film career, and ended up with five new Berlin songs in My Mammy, released 1930. One more film keeping Irving busy was Hallelujah with another pair of songs. While traveling to Hollywood to facilitate the incorporation of his tunes into film from time to time, Berlin still stayed firmly based in Manhattan while not off on a cruise ship. He is shown there in the 1930 Census with Ellin and Mary Ellin, a self-employed composer of music. Notable films over the next decade that would feature Berlin music include Top Hat (1935), featuring Cheek to Cheek; Follow the Fleet (1936), featuring Let's Face the Music and Dance; the all-Berlin film On the Avenue (1937); another Berlin song extravaganza filled with ragtime-era classics
Broadway took quite a hit during the Great Depression as it was much less expensive to create and distribute a film than it was to employ fifty or more people every night for a stage production. So some of them were scaled back or less performances held. Just the same, there were enough people in Manhattan well enough off and in need of entertainment that the producers pressed on, including Berlin and Harris. In 1932 he came out with the political satire Face the Music, and the following year with a play lauding the new president, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, in As Thousands Cheer, a play in which cast members played several different roles, perhaps a cost-cutting measure. This show ran more than a year, achieving 400 performances in the first run. It also had an embedded tune called Heat Wave which found plenty of favor in the 1950s when sexy new star Marilyn Monroe infused new meaning into it. Another piece, which started out in 1917 as Smile and Show Your Dimples, was retooled with the same melody into the piece Her Easter Bonnet. It eventually found success when it was later retitled as Easter Parade, although it took five film appearances before the piece would take off. Berlin's publishing empire remained consistent and busy throughout the 1930s as well, and he had the good fortune to have been contracted by Walt Disney to put many of that studio's works into print, including all of the songs from the stellar hit, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and later Pinnochio and Dumbo. The face of Broadway would change in the wake of musicals such as Snow White and The Wizard of Oz where gradually the songs featured in these stories would actually be part of the story, forwarding the plot, rather than just assembled for the sake of putting a song at a certain point in the story. Many consider the dawn of the modern musical to be Rodgers and Hammerstein's Oklahoma in 1943, and it does contain the elements of character-based songs that have more context within the story than if sung alone. However, Berlin approached this concept fairly successfully in 1940, at age 52, with the satirical comedy Louisiana Purchase, a similar idea to that of Oklahoma. It ultimately ran a respectable 444 performances, and in 1941 was made into a less than successful Paramount film with Bob Hope in the lead. Given the tone of the musical and the story emphasis on the songs, it yielded no lasting hits. But there were other worries in the world at that time, and they came to a head in December of 1941 with the American entry into World War II. Again, Sergeant Irving Berlin would be there to rally for the cause. The Berlin Renaissance
Patriotic was once again very much in vogue in 1942, and this time it was Uncle Sam that approached Berlin, asking him to repeat what he had done for morale in World War I with Yip Yip Yiphank. He quickly revived some of the old tunes, came up with new ones, and This Is the Army was born. It cleverly included the staging of Yip Yip Yiphank in the plot, spanning both of the wars. While the initial run was only 113 performances, as personnel were constantly being shipped off, but continued to tour the country and the world throughout the war. The unit formed to stage this and other shows for the military still exists into the 21st century.
 This Is the Army was made into a fairly successful movie in 1943 featuring future California politicians George Murphy and Ronald Reagan, with a cameo by Berlin himself singing Oh, How I Hate to Get Up in the Morning, which required some technical prowess by the sound crew to pull off since his voice recorded so softly. Berlin also toured extensively during the war, playing in the African, European and Pacific theaters, often shortly after a location had been liberated. After the war, President Harry Truman awarded him the American Medal of Merit for his contributions to troop morale.His contributions to morale at home were also important, and again extended to film, with the big hit of 1942 yielding quite a surprise. Asked by Paramount to come up with pieces for a film based on American holidays, with a special song for most of them, Irving was sure that his Easter Parade would finally be the hit he had hoped for when featured in Holiday Inn with Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. What he didn't see coming was that Bing would turn a simple Christmas tune written by a Russian Jewish immigrant into the biggest song hit in history, White Christmas. Except for the initial surge of Elton John's special recording of Candle in the Wind honoring the late Princess Diana of Wales, White Christmas has consistently been the top selling song on records, CD, and digital media combined, the standard to end all standards. Written in the summer of 1940 while he was in Los Angeles, but not released, Berlin found it difficult to capture the religious spirit of Christmas, so called upon the feeling of the season instead. He used the contrast of heat in Beverly Hills in the verse with the desire to be back in the North or Northeast, and seemed to tap that desire in everybody in the country during the difficult war. White Christmas handily won the Oscar for best song at the 1943 Academy Awards as well. There were only a few song releases over the next couple of years, but he did make a handful of contributions in 1945 to the film Blue Skies, again with Astaire and Crosby, released in 1946. Just the same, Berlin, now approaching 60, had something up his sleeve, and the best was yet to come. Rodgers and Hammerstein, after successes with Oklahoma and Carousel, decided they wanted to produce as well, and hired the stalwart and similarly successful Jerome Kern to write a musical based on the life of Annie Oakley. However, he suddenly and literally dropped dead, leaving them with a project and no composer. They decided to take a chance on the aging Berlin, who even though he was getting on in years seemed to be able to turn out viable contemporary melodies. The end result was Annie Get Your Gun, which became a prime vehicle for an already seasoned Ethel Merman. Yet it could have been different, as Irving nearly pulled one of the songs from the production because he was under the impression that his musically-inclined producers did not like it. Fortunately, they kept it in and There's No Business Like Show Business proved to be the show stopper, and put another lasting Berlin hit into the American Songbook. Annie ultimately ran for an astonishing 1147 performances with the original cast, and was made into a similarly successful movie with a couple of new songs added in 1950. In 1948 Berlin contributed new songs to the film which finally made a hit of the title song, Easter Parade.  He then put his efforts into another stage musical called Miss Liberty which proved to be somewhat of a disappointment in the shadow of Annie Get Your Gun. Based on events around the Statue of Liberty, and starring Eddie Albert St., it somehow managed 308 performances in the first run, but very few since that time. Determined to score again, Berlin cast Merman in Call Me Madam in 1950, this time with a greater measure of success at 644 performances, and a movie version in 1953. Even more fine hits and recycled favorites appeared in the now-perennial hit White Christmas in 1954, again giving Crosby, this time teamed with Danny Kaye, Vera Ellen, and newcomer Rosemary Clooney, a chance to croon what was by now his most famous tune.A conservative in his politics, Berlin took up the cause of General Dwight D. Eisenhower in the late 1940s, helping him in song as well during his two presidential campaigns with "I Like Ike" songs. In 1955 he was rewarded with a special gold medal for his efforts in contributing to American song. Except for some reprints of earlier material, 1955 appears to have been the first year in almost five decades in which no new Berlin songs materialized, an astonishing run. It appeared that the 67 year old composer was approaching retirement, and there was very little output over the next 6 years. However, at age 74, Berlin graced his Music Box Theater with one last production, Mr. President, starting Nanette Fabray and Robert Ryan. A fictional account of life in the White House, trying to capture the magic of the Camelot idyll of the Kennedy administration, it was not well received by critics or theater goers. After 265 performances it retired, and so did Irving Berlin. In 1966 Berlin would add one final song to his extensive list, An Old-Fashioned Wedding for a revival of Annie Get Your Gun. As he was turning 78 that year, Berlin was interviewed by William Glover of the Associated Press about his possible retirement and lust for life:
"Doin' What Comes Natur'lly," Irving Berlin at 78 keeps on writing music and shunning retirement.
"I do it now because I'm a ham," observes the very chipper elder statesman of Tin Pan Alley. "You try to justify yourself to yourself. "You don't quit working because you get old, but because you want to. Not that I've got anything against people who like to golf or fish. I just don't care for such things, so maybe I'm the one who is pathetic." The first Berlin item just 60 years ago was a set of lyrics for "Marie From Sunny Italy," which earned him 37 cents. Since then there have been more than 900 melodies and the pay has gotten a lot better. The basic task of creativity, however, for such a top-echelon member of the American Soceity of Composers, Authors and Publishers is neither harder nor easier now than it was way back then. "The only inspiration is having a job to do," he succinctly comments. "You start with a talent, but there's got to be a lot of energy and push."... The dean of popular music regards recent trends in the area with equanimity. "You can't judge show business today in terms of yesterday," he says of those who detect a decline in melodious entertainment. "I think it's doing damn good." And although the rock 'n' roll fad has continued longer than he expected, Berlin tolerantly observes, "It's just the kids in revolt. This thing they call the beat - these songs can't possibly live because no one can whistle a beat." [Author: How does one explain Wipeout or My Sharona, much less rap?]... "The days of plugging a song to success are gone," he says. "If you could pick a hit in advance there wouldn't be any failures." Sometimes success is a matter of timing - "If I had published 'God Bless America' when I wrote it in 1918, it wouldn't have been nearly as big as it was in 1938 when Hitler was overrunning Europe. Sometimes it's a matter of astute revision - "I wrote a bad song for Al Jolson in 1929, 'To My Mammy,' but I took a phrase out of it later to become 'How Deep Is the Ocean,' the best ballad I ever did." Then there was a 1917 item, "Smile and Show Your Dimples," which with new lyrics went on to fame as "Easter Parade."... The man who has been called "the last of the troubadours" has a phrase of advice he likes to share. Looking down the years, Berlin repeats it again: "You've got to take your blessings as they come." In spite of his talk of forging forward, Irving and Ellin started spending ever more time in their country home in the Catskill Mountains rather than their Beekman Place townhome in Manhattan. He would soon be relegated to the status of an American Icon who appeared on talk shows and the occasional tribute. One of these was the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1968. By the mid 1970s Berlin had all but disappeared from view. His final public appearance was at the 1986 Centennial Celebration of the Statue of Liberty, but due to the onset of health issues he was a no-show for his 100th birthday celebration held in 1988.
Ellin Berlin died in 1987 at age 85. Irving Berlin finally was taken by a heart attack at the remarkable age of 101, and this humble Russian Jew who honored his adoptive home by giving it lasting musical voice was interred in Woodlawn Cemetery in The Bronx, New York. He left behind his three daughters, nine grandchildren, six grandchildren, and a grateful public who still enjoy his creativity today. Famed composer Jerome Kern, when asked about Berlin's place in American music, said that Irving Berlin has no place in it. "Irving Berlin is American Music." God Bless America and the memory of Irving Berlin. | ||||||||||
Mike Bernard was a considerable talent in many fields, including inventing some of his own biography, which made research frustrating at times. Hopefully this biography will cover enough of the facts and anomalies to present a somewhat accurate picture. While conventional sources show him as born in 1881 or 1884, his age in the 1900 and 1910 U.S. Census records indicate a probable 1874 birth year, and locating a draft record was difficult, so this is inconclusive. To further compound the issue, the 1900 Census, which is usually fairly accurate, lists his birth month as May, not March. The March 17th date may have been a gimmick to give him more of a contrived Irish heritage (he was actually born to German parents). The 1880 Census indicates a possible 1872 or 1873 date, which could explain the absence of a draftt record. For consistency with the best verifiable information this essay will stick with 1874.
Mike was born Michael Bernhard to Ferdinand and Emmilia Bernhard in New York state. He was the only boy of five children, his sisters being Josephine (1870), Maria (1875), Anna (1876) and Liesa (1880). The 1880 Census showed the family living in Buffalo, New York with Ferdinand listed as a laborer.  Discovered to be both precocious and talented at an early age, Michael received good musical training in his youth, eventually going to Germany around 1892 to study at the Berlin Conservatory of Music. He reportedly played a performance in front of Kaiser Wilhelm II during this time.Once back in New York City in late 1895, Mike heard his first ragtime as played by white composer/performer Ben Harney (who claimed to have invented the ragtime genre in part) and decided he also wanted to play the music that Harney was doing; Ragtime. So he learned what he could from Harney, who was a couple of years older, while at the same time working up the prowess to challenge Harney's position in New York vaudeville. Before long either Bernard or his quickly accumulating fans dubbed him the "Rag-Time King of the World." This could have been prompted by his 1899 composition, The Rag-Time King: A Symphony In Rag-Time. The historically designated originator of the moniker was Richard K. Fox, owner of the famous pink National Police Gazette weekly newspaper that reported on entertainment and sporting and anything salacious in the city and beyond. After spending a few months in the orchestra pit as music director for Tony Pastor's theater, the most popular vaudeville spot in New York through the 1880s and 1890s, Mike joined Harney on stage as a resident ragtime pianist. The first located public notice of him performing there in any capacity was in the New York Times of April 8, 1896. Bernard was among a list of performers listed at Pastor's for "the annual benefit of Harry S. Sanderson, including well established acts like Weber and Fields and Matthews and Bulger. There were several notices to follow in the weekly entertainment listings, and Bernard was soon engaged all about town. While never a prolific composer, Mike did try his hand at a few pieces starting in 1896. His first, The Belle of Hogan's Alley with lyrics by James W. Blake, was based on an early comic in the New York Sunday World. It was dedicated to pioneer Sunday comics artist R.F. Outcault (Richard Felton), whose most famous enduring character was The Yellow Kid, the likeness of which appears on the cover with other Outcault creations. A Times notice from March 19, 1899, notes that Mike was one of the few performers featured at the first of a series of Sunday evening concerts held at the Academy of Music. The 1900 Census shows Bernard living in New York City as a pianist, and married for around a year to May Bernard, who was 19 years old to his 26. There was a well-promoted and much-hyped ragtime piano competition on January 23, 1900, run by Fox and the Police Gazette. In the January 20 issue printed just prior to the contest, the following announcement appeared: "Many eyes are on the diamond-studded trophy... The ragtime contest will settle a much vexed question... since the coon melodies became popular...  We assure our readers that in the first place the best man will win... an artist who belongs in an obscure country town has as much chance to win as anyone... Acknowledged leader of the ragtime players is Mr. Michael Bernard, leader of the orchestra at Pastor's and whose fame as a manipulator of the ivories has spread through the land. If ever there was a champ, he is one." It seemed that the fix was in, and indeed Bernard did secure his trophy and earned his title, with few if any complaints from those who participated.There were a few dissenters from outside the Pastor's circle, however. As noted in the 1950 book They All Played Ragtime by Rudi Blesh and Harriet Janis, pianist Jake Schaefer, who was "persona non grata" at Pastor's theater, chimed in on Bernard's status with the Police Gazette, who printed his letter: "I see where Mike Bernard is to give a ragtime contest and bills himself the champion of the world. I feel called upon out of duty to myself to respectfully dispute his claim to the title. I have played in contests all over the country and won first honors in every one in which I competed. I have played against the best of them and as I have never been defeated in open contest I was generally looked upon as the champion if there is such a thing among rag players. Has Mr. Bernard ever won any equitably conducted contests or has he competed against any of the leaders?
"I do not say I can defeat Bernard, but I would like a chance to prove whether I can or not. While I have had little trouble in defeating all my comptetitors of course there is no telling when you will rub up against your superior. If matters can be satifactorily arranged, I will play against Bernard but not on his terms. He suggests that the judges be selected from the audience. It is just like a boxer with a traveling combination who is meeting all comers. When an outsider comes on the stage he is handicapped in that he is a stranger; the boxer with the company is not out to get the worst of it and the managers do not as a rule try to give him the bad end... "I would be glad to have a try at Bernard under the following conditions which all are bound to admit are fair: Each contestant to name two judges who can play ragtime music and have the four select a fifth; each one o the five to show his ability to judge by playing a number of selections. In that way both would get a fair show... As a gracefel suggestion, I might say that colored folk be selected as judges..." The Police Gazette responded to Schaefer's call for a challenge to have him compete, but did not fully accept his terms. "In regard to the judge question, those selected from an audience are all right from any standpoint... One of the judges in this case will be a representative of the Police Gazette and he will not be biased in favor of of anyone." Whether Schaefer showed up for the competition on January 23 is unclear. That Bernard won by popular acclaim is very evident.
Mike became the talk of the town among pianists and ragtime fans. This win gave him great visibility, and soon his name was making headlines beyond the Police Gazette, getting more notice in the standard newspapers of New York, Chicago and Los Angeles.  Occasionally the Gazette sponsored or promoted some of the many ragtime competitions in which Harney and Bernard participated, with Bernard usually coming out victorious, but these were found in a variety of theaters as well, in an environment not too dissimilar from today's wrestling matches. The Gazette in particular gave out a fabulous diamond medal and a trophy for their competitions, and similar prizes were handed out for contests held at Tammany Hall during that period in which Mike mostly, but not always, fared very well. In particular, Bernard was known for concert-grade arrangements of tunes complete with sound effects produced by the piano, and for his ability to also syncopate the left hand and pass melodic lines between hands.It appears that for a short time he secured a position with well-known publisher E.T. Paull, as announced in The Music Trade Review of September 28, 1901. "One of the best known piano players in the country is Mike Bernard. He has won many contests for piano playing, and is well known throughout the continent. Mr. Bernard has joined the forces of the E. T. Paull Music Co., and will devote all his time to furthering the firm's interests and he will doubtless prove a valuable acquisition in every way. He has just written the music to a clever song entitled 'Since Sally's in the Ballet,' Vincent B. Bryan having written the words. Another good number by Mike Bernard is 'The Phantom Dance...' With Bert Morphy - the general manager, Mike Bernard and [manager] Harry Rogers, things should certainly hum at 46 West Twenty-eighth street, New York." Another notice in the October 26 edition of the same journal noted that "Mike Bernard, well known as the champion long distance piano-player, and who 'banged the box' six seasons at Tony Pastor's, is now the manager of the professional bureau of the E.T. Paull Music Company... He informed The Review that he is going to spring a surprise on the public soon. What it is he will not say." Other than the two publications mentioned, nothing more of Bernard's appeared under the Paull logo, and perhaps the surprise turned out to be that their association was somewhat short-lived. New Yorkers loved vaudeville, and they loved contests involving musical prowess, and Bernard regularly delivered in both. He appeared in nearly every major vaudeville house in the city, seen hopping theaters in the trade and public notices perhaps once a month at times, and appearing at many benefits as well. One New York Times notice of February 21, 1904 described one such event: "There were merry doings at the Stroller's Club in Madison Avenue last night. The twenty-third 'roister' was held amid general rejoicing and with a large attendance. The miniature theater up stairs was crowded. The entertainment was furnished by vaudeville 'doubles' and 'singles' for prizes... The 'singles" were George Wilson, George W. Bandy, Mike Bernard, Joh Hathaway, Hugh Flaherty, Fred Haywood and R. Barrow. At a late hour last night the judges were still undecided as to who had won." During his rise to fame, and even after his death, Bernard was both regarded and reviled by many, not so much concerning his ego, which was backed up by his fine performances, but as a white pretender to a black music form. While this contention shows up in occasional articles mentioning Bernard or Harney in the early 1900s, as well as later interviews with some of his black peers, it appears in a much more prescient form in They All Played Ragtime.  Blesh made his feelings clearly known about white musicians in ragtime and jazz in his 1943 lecture series at the San Francisco Museum of Art, so this negative representation was not unexpected. However, historically, it should be noted in spite of the advantage of having access to more privileges as a white player in society that Bernard's recordings on Columbia records, which were possibly started as early as 1909, speak volumes about his skill. He did not necessarily play "authentic negro ragtime," but he did play and compose ragtime in a style that was hard to surpass. It has been reported (hard to substantiate) that Eubie Blake once saw Bernard's name listed for a cutting contest, and Blake demurred from playing there in spite of his own considerable skill because he knew that Mike was clearly a public favorite. Even composer George Gershwin had mentioned Bernard as an early influence to which he was indebted for his playing style, particularly the left-hand passages.Mike was touring on the West Coast and in the Midwest with a vaudeville troup from some time in 1907 to perhaps 1909. Also in this troupe for part of the time was singer Blossom Seeley, and she and Mike did a short act together as partners during that time. There is some evidence in a divorce suit filed by her first husband Patrick Curtin that she and Bernard were perhaps an item during part of that tour, suggesting at least a separation if not a divorce for Mike during that period. He also released a rag in 1908 which he was performing on stage, The Stinging Bee. It would be followed in 1910 by Lemon Drops. Mike is listed in 1910 as a single 36 year old theater pianist in Manhattan and staying at the Hotel Cadillac. May does not appear with him in that Census An April 9,1910 advertising notice in The Music Trade Review stated that: "Mike Bernard, the celebrated ragtime pianist, who, some years ago, won the Richard K. Fox gold medal for ragtime piano playing against a number of the most skillful performers who could be brought together in New York, is again distinguishing himself in vaudeville. Mr. Bernard recently added to his already long repertoire 'Where the River Shannon Flows' and 'Temptation Rag' [Henry Lodge], two Witmark numbers which are cutting a very important figure in the popular music of the day. This remarkable pianist is more than pleased with the success which he is having with these two new acquisitions." A notice in the New York Times of May 1, 1910, describes the short-run show Paris By Night at the Hammerstein Theater, in which he appears with Bert Williams among other notable vaudeville actors and singers. Mike appeared to have been an regular at Hammersteins for the 1910 season, appearing in a number of other shows as well. He was appearing at the Manhattan Opera House, another vaudeville theater, around Christmas of that year. The following month he was found at the Orpheum in Brooklyn as part of their 10th anniversary celebration. Mike worked in Brooklyn for at least the next six months. A Music Trade Review article of July 23, 1910, noted another publisher association for the pianist: "Mike Bernard has formed a partnership with Karl Tausig, and they have entered the song writing field, Mr. Tausig writing the lyrics and Mr. Bernard the music. Charles K. Harris is their publisher and he will issue several of their songs in the near future. 'That Tickling Rag' instrumental by Mr. Bernard is out, and Mr. Tausig is writing words for it." In spite of this buzz in the industry, it appears that the partnership did not work out as evidence of any Bernard and Tausig compositions is hard to come by. On August 23, 1910 the Review again gave Mike a couple of descriptive column inches: "The Chicago Daily Journal speaks as follows of Mike Bernard, the well-known ragtime pianist, who is playing the fascinating Witmark number 'Temptation Rag': 'Bernard gives a piano-playing exhibition that looks like an acrobatic sideshow and sounds like a speeding pianola. Bernard plays the 'Temptation Rag' and Paderewski's masterpiece [unspecified] with the same elemental motive of force.' " Another pair of Witmark Publications would come out in 1911, his last two authentic rags, The Race Horse Rag and Panama Pacific Rag. The latter was four year in advance of the 1915 Panama Pacific Exhibition in San Francisco, so the reference for the title is not clear. It is known that around 1910, as Mike was beginning his brief recording career, that one of his most popular works was The Battle of San Juan Hill which evidently recalled the famed 1898 Cuban conflict with bugle calls, patriotic tunes, and various gunnery effects. These can also be heard on his Columbia recording of the piece. It has been reported that Bernard was paid as much as $10,000 for his early recording sessions, given the expected sales of those records based on his popularity. He made the bulk of his known records for Columbia in 1912, 1913 and 1918, having been one of the few ragtime pianists actually recorded during this period.  Mike also toured during these years, appearing in notices all around the country from Chicago to Los Angeles, advertised with various vaudeville acts as the 'King of the Ragtime Pianists.' One of his frequent stage partners was fellow Willie Weston with whom Mike had co-composed a few works. Another partner was noted in a February 1, 1912, Los Angeles Times blurb: "Mike Bernard, Blossom Seeley's one-time partner, has hooked up professionally with Amy Butler, and the two are coming over the Orpheum circuit." Their association appears to have lasted two seasons. He also appeared on many bills with singer Jack Rose. In 1918 after Original Dixieland Jazz Band pianist Henry Ragas died, Mike was afforded an opportunity to audition for that slot, although the job ultimately went to composer and pianist J. Russel Robinson.Bernard left New York soon after the war, and spent a few years based in Chicago, also working on the Midwest and Western Vaudeville circuit. He is seen in regular notices of appearances as early as July 1918. It was most likely while in Chicago or on the road he met and married his second wife Katherine (or Catherine) Bernard. She appears with him in the 1920 Census as 18 years old and married to Mike, who is a bit vainly listed as 36. This may be an error on the part of the Census taker, or a deliberate error of vanity on his part, being 46 and married to an 18-year-old. She also is listed as a vaudeville entertainer, possibly a singer. They had a son, Jules, in late 1921. By the mid 1920s Mike was back in New York City. The 1930 Census shows him still married to Katherine, although there is a curious question as to their status in 1920 since she was now 29 and stated she married at age 26. Son Jules also appears as 8 years old. Of further question is Bernard's own age, now listed as 50, which is inconsistent with previous census records and even with his generally accepted birth date of 1881. However, he is still shown as a professional musician, now living in Queens. Mike appeared at a Depression era actors aid benefit in April 1931. The event was hosted by the Friar's Club and Roxy's Gang, and included a wide variety of vaudeville entertainers old and new, with Mike being the last entertainer listed, part of the "Roxy contingent." An April 1935 luncheon was held to honor British music hall singer Vesta Victoria, who had made a splash in the 1890s and early 1900s. In the New York Times report on the event at which Mike was one of the entertainers, he was described as "while playing the piano at Tony Pastor's [he] introduced the jazz number, 'The Twelfth Street Rag.' " But Mike's big return to the news that month was during a Friar's Club event at which New York Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia spoke on relief efforts and the merits of entertainment. WIth Mike Bernard and songwriter Joe Howard (Hello Ma Baby and I Wonder Who's Kissing Her Now), he included some musical interpolations from the ragtime era. As noted in the April 9, 1935 New York Times, " 'Ragtime as originated by Mike Bernard is a permanent part of music in this country,' he asserted. 'It is always melodious, and its syncopated counterpoint follows established rules of harmony. Contrast it with the shrills of woods and the shrieks of brasses we hear today. I don't believe such stuff can possibly live.' " This was high praise and a pretty good grasp of musical jargon by His Honor. Bernard spent his final years playing at a nostalgic joint in New York called Bill's Gay Nineties, drawing a crowd even during the depression. His last notice in the New York Times of June 13, 1936, noted that "Mike Bernard, ragtime pianist, has returned to Bill's Gay Nineties," which was following a short absence from that regular gig. Bernard died two weeks later at the age of anywhere from 55 to 62. His exploits and his contributions to the popularity of ragtime among all races still live on into the 21st century. | ||||||||||
Leon M. Block did not leave much behind for us to learn about him. His Louisiana Rag remains fairly well known in the ragtime community a century after its composition, but details on Block himself have never been reported. What little was located is presented here.  He was born to Bavarian immigrant Louis Block and his Illinois native wife Harriet "Hattie" (Cook) Block in New Madrid, Missouri. They had married in St. Louis in 1867. Leon had two older siblings, Rosena L. (2/1868) and Jacob S. (6/1872). As of the 1880 Census Louis was listed as a retail merchant in New Madrid. By 1900 he had become a farmer, still based in New Madrid. Jacob was a salesman by this time, and Leon was still in school.Nothing is known about Leon's musical education. However he was listed in various locations as a working musician by 1906. His first self-published composition, Theatorium Rag, was released in 1909, presumably printed in St. Louis or Chicago. In the 1910 Census he is shown as a musician on the move, boarding in Shreveport, Louisiana as a musician for a local auditorium. It was here that he would compose his next and most famous work, Louisiana Rag, which was accepted by Chicago publisher Will Rossiter in 1911. It was a fairly brisk seller, in part due to the colorful cover of a beautiful little maid, and many copies of it still exist. The piece is dedicated to "Miss Irene Howley" who was a Chicago stenographer, and around 18-years-old in 1911. Nothing more is know of her. One more self-published piece appeared in 1913, That Hypnotic Rag, under the imprint of Cahn & Block (not the same as the historical Kansas City mercantile) in Shreveport, Louisiana. The identification of Mr. Cahn has not been fully discovered. Leon chose the life of an itinerant musician for much of his life. He traveled as a pianist in a tent show in the Southwest United States for part of the 1910s. At the time of the 1918 draft Leon was living at the YMCA in Memphis, Tennessee, working as an organist for the Majestic Theater on Main Street. There is no listing for him in the quickly taken January 1920 Census, and there is none for Jacob as well. In 1924 he published another song with Leonard G. Harris under the imprint of Harris & Block, this time in Pine Bluff, Arkansas. Leon was still there in 1929 when he published a song with Ohren Smulian, son of a local merchant who had a few other compositions to his name. The following year, Smulian had opened his own department store in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but Block appears to have not followed him there. In the 1930 Census Jacob surfaces a bit to the northeast in Clarendon, Arkansas, working as a wholesale merchant of some kind. There are indications that Leon spent several years there living with his older brother. Leon is found in the 1942 draft listing his address as with his brother in Brinkley, Arkansas, where Jacob had moved, but working at the Evangeline Hotel in Alexandria, Louisiana. Jacob died in the early 1950s and Leon returned to Missouri for the remainder of his life, working as an organist and likely a pianist wherever he could find work. He was evidently based in or near the capitol, Jefferson City, and at least one article from 1965 mentions him as the organist for a wedding held at Memorial Baptist Church. Leon died in nearby Waynesville, about 50 miles south of Jefferson City, in 1969 at age 84. If any family members or others who know anything else concerning the life of Leon Block we would be deeply appreciative for that information which will be acknowledged. |
The legendary ragtime pioneer John William Boone was born to Rachel Boone in 1864. Census records have indicated a range of birth years from 1862 to 1866, but 1864 is the most accurate year of birth according to the author's research. Rachel was an escaped slave from Kentucky who found a position as a "contraband cook" for the Union Army in Miami, Missouri. A mulatto, she claimed to be an indirect descendant of famed American Daniel Boone, a claim with some measure of credibility, and kept that name. John's father was a white bugler with the Union Army.
Given that information, the Union Army records show only one bugler in an applicable at that time period, Private William S. Belcher of Company F of the 3rd Regiment, Missouri State Militia Cavalary, then later with the 7th Regiment in the same capacity as bugler. Not only was he in the Miami area around the probable time of conception, but further investigation into Army records reveal that he was on a furlough to Miami about the time of John's birth in 1864. The furlough turned into an attempt to enlist with the 23rd Missouri Infantry the day after John's birth, which turned into a desertion charge from the Union Army and a conviction. After the war he married and became a farmer. It is unclear if he ever had more than peripheral contact with his son for whatever reasons. Shortly after John's birth Rachel moved to Warrensburg, Missouri. She is shown there in 1870 working in washing and ironing, and was working for many prominent families in the area. Curiously, John, now called Willie, was shown as only 4 years old in that Census, and he had another brother, Wyatt, father unknown, who is shown as 2 years old in 1870.
At age 7 he received a French harp as a gift, quickly learning to tune and play it. This allowed him to earn some extra income, even before he was 8, playing it at various functions or in people's homes. When he was eight, Rachel ended her life as a single mother by marrying Harrison Hendrix, and eventually the couple added five more siblings to Willie's family. They moved to a one room cabin, but by all reports it was a loving household, and Willie remained close to his step-siblings throughout his life. In an effort to accommodate her son's needs, Rachel enrolled Willie at the Missouri School for the Blind in St. Louis, with the generous help of donations by neighbors and townspeople, both black and white. Some also funded the train trip, and made him clothes to take along. His blindness and pure joy in life helped make all of them color blind as well. He left Warrensburg in the fall of 1873. It was clear early on that Willie was not happy at the school, and instead of communing with his own classmates, he preferred to listen to older students practice in the music room. One of them, Enoch Donley, befriended Willie and taught him basics of technique, and also introduced him to a piano teacher at the school. After a year of work, Boone was able to play virtually anything he heard with commendable technique. The situation at the school changed within a couple of years, and a new supervisor was put in place, changing the way black students were treated. Willie was removed from most of his musical access and taught to make broom instead. In order to play he escaped the school at night (presumably with some assistance) and started hanging around the nearby tenderloin district where early forms of what would become ragtime were being performed. While he was able to pick up a lot from listening to the brothel and bar pianists, he was eventually caught enough times that he was expelled from the school. Forced to live on the streets, he played where he could, often in churches, and even sang to people in public places like train depots for money. Nearly starving, a conductor found him and managed to get him back to Warrensburg and his mother. Back home, Willie continued to play in homes, halls and churches. It was in a church where he was giving a small concert that John Lange, a local contractor and successful black businessman, first heard Boone play. He was substantially impressed, and after some time decided to expand his scope of business operations, becoming one of the first African American managers of a concert artist. In preparation for sending Willie out into the world, Lange sent him to Christian College in Columbia for advanced musical training with Anna Heuerman. It was here that he learned a great love for classical music, which he was quickly able to emulate, and even duplicate, sometimes on the first or second hearing. After sufficient training, Boone came home, and with Lange formed the Blind Boone Company, adopting the motto Merit, Not Sympathy, Wins. Based in Columbia, the pair set out to make Boone famous, with resounding results - albeit slowly resounding.
This was Boone's own pianistic representation of an F4 tornado that tore through Marshfield, Missouri on April 18, 1880, killing 99 people and injuring at least another 100. Descriptions of Boone's performance conjure up a tour de force of effects that potentially had a detrimental effect on the instrument, and it became his signature piece. Marshfield Tornado was never recorded or printed as Boone wanted it to be entirely his, each performance to be unique. In truth, it is questionable whether a player piano could have fared well with the onslaught of notes from Boone's hands. One newspaper described it as follows: The piece is a variation, beginning with the quiet of the Sabbath morning at church, the approaching storm and the roaring destruction as it sweeps over the town. The noise dies down and peace again reigns." The early years of the show were difficult, but necessary to build Boone's reputation. Lange, Boone, and perhaps a couple of other, traveled the Midwest in a wagon carrying a piano with them, allowing them to set up wherever they needed and avoid the reservations some white piano owners might have about the boy's taking over of their instrument. However, this was hard on the instrument physically, and part of the budget from the income was set aside for replacement pianos every few months. As Boone's reputation grew, it seems that a good piano was more readily available at their destinations, and eventually they did not have to travel with one. They also often stayed with a local sponsor to avoid hotel expenses, but the home base was in Columbia. In the June 1880 Census, Boone is shown as one of many residents in the home of Columbia farmer Alfred Woods and his large family, although no profession is listed. As Boone and Lange grew their show, Lange would hire somebody to set out a week or more ahead of the troupe for public relation purposes, advertising the coming of Boone with posters and word of mouth. Notices in the paper comparing Boone with the already established "Blind" Wiggins didn't hurt either, such as this one with an off-handed sleight towards the older artist from the Gettysburg Compiler of June 9, 1885: "Poor Blind Tom, the alleged[!] pianist, is discovering that another black pianist, known as Blind Boone, but who Tom considers anything but a boon to him, is about to become a formidablee rival in concert business." While Blind Tom had his own niche and a considerable lock on Midwest concert halls, the report was more or less predictive. By the end of five years, when Boone was approaching 21, the company had no problem getting booked in towns or cities of every size. The reviews were positive and more money was also coming in, so Boone and company were living well by the time the 1890s came around. In 1891, John married Eugenia Lange, his manager's youngest sister. They remained together for the rest of his life. According to and article in a May 1893 edition of Kunkel's Musical Review, the Blind Boone Concert Company was in town for four weeks, and the star was greatly lauded. "His playing is remarkable, not because of his blindness, but because of his artistic excellence. John W. Boone is justly considered the successor of the celebrated [Louis Moreau] Gottschalk. He grasps with marvelous rapidity any composition played for him, and the most difficult pieces are played after single reading. His engagements here drew crowded houses nightly." The company also grew in size over the next decade, as Lange and Boone added vocalists to the show, including Emma Smith, Melissa Fuell, Marguerite Day, Stella May (just 16 when she was recruited) and Josephine Huggard They also expanded their reach, performing at least 8,000 concerts in the United States between 1880 and 1895, along with performances in Canada, Mexico and Europe. One of Boone's greatest joys was sharing his gifts and enthusiasm with children. He would openly promote his desire for parents to bring their children to his performances in order to bring them to music, and would sometimes bring large groups of them inside the performance hall for free, simply so he could encourage them to also learn the thrill of playing and sharing that gift. It evidently effected a great many youths who ended up working hard to learn to play, some actually becoming fine pianists in churches or theaters. He often gave back to the church community that supported him, providing funds for a great many church and school building or repair projects wherever he went. According to the 1900 Census, Boone was firmly ensconced in Columbia, and Eugenia was now the treasurer for the company. His mother Rachel died in January 1901. Throughout his career Boone had composed a number of number of songs, instrumentals and classically styled pieces, many that were eventually published, including some notable ones between 1900 and 1910. This included the beautiful Aurora Waltz of 1907, reportedly inspired by descriptions of the aurora borealis over the northern hemispher. In 1908 and 1909 he contributed two Medleys to the ragtime collective, largely made up of folk themes and some original derivatives. Blind Boone's Rag Medley Number One: "Strains from the Alleys", and Blind Boone's Rag Medley Number One: "Strains from the Flat Branch", were not the same type of ragtime that many other composers had been writing by that time.
During his years as a prominent performer, his endorsement was sought out be certain piano companies, and in the end the Chickering Piano Company of Boston, Massachusetts, would offer him the biggest incentive of all. Chickering, perhaps Steinway's biggest U.S. rival at that time, offered him a large oak nine food concert grand in 1891 which he enjoyed enormously. (It is now kept in the Boone County Historical Society in Columbia, Missouri, and can still be played.) They made several others for him over the years which he routinely wore out. However, his name did show up in connection with other instruments from time to time. Among those were Steinway and Estey, the latter being a famous organ builder as well. In The Music Trade Review of July 6, 1901, a letter of endorsement to Bush and Gerts was quoted: "The Bush & Gerts piano is a fine instrument, possessing a pure sweet tone, and any dealer may well be proud to handle such a piano. It is bound to make friends wherever it is known and sold." One month later on August 3, 1901, the following was printed in the MTR: Carl Hoffmann, of Kansas City, Mo., is, and long has been, a Chickering enthusiast. The new model Chickering baby grand which he received last week, has, however, compelled more than the ordinary number of adjectives to express his approbation of its musical merits.
While testing this instrument, "Blind" Boone, a negro musician widely known throughout that section, strolled in and became so enamored with the Chickering grand that he purchased it, notwithstanding the fact that he already has several Chickering pianos in his possession. He knows a "good thing" without seeing it. It is said there are few better judges of tone than "Blind" Boone, and it does his judgment credit when he selects a Chickering. In the case of many concert pianists, the highly-regarded Boone in partiular, it seems that any company that could encourage him to wax poetic on their instrument would exploit those words in their favor, in spite of his association with other companies. Another example is found in the May 28, 1910 MTR concerning the R.A. Rodesch player piano: "Blind Boone, who is one of the celebrated pianists of the West, visited our factory just before [President R.A. Rodesch] left and he was so delighted with what he saw and heard that he left an order for one of the players to be installed in his own piano." Yet another Chickering endorsement was printed on October 9, 1915, and it outlines some of his technique for learning new pieces:
— Uses the Chickering Grand for Concerts — Pianist Well Known in the West. One of Boone's last endorsements was found in the February 1, 1919 MTR: "
 While at the Sonora music rooms he was furnished, at the request of the Plaza Theatre of that city, with a Kohler & Campbell piano, Style 8, to be used in conjunction with his program, before commencing which he paid the following tribute to the instrument: "I want to thank Mr. Stephenson for the splendid piano which he has so kindly furnished me with that I might be able to render this program. It is one of a rare make, has a beautiful tone, and it has a splendid action. You will find the Kohler & Campbell a remarkable instrument for the price, the base is excellent and any piano that stands my 'Marshfield Storm' is a good one." Boone entered his fourth decade of concertizing in 1910. In late 1912 Boone recorded Rag Medley Number Two and six other tunes from his repertoire to piano rolls for the QRS Piano Roll Company on their Autograph series, one of the first black artists to do so. It is said (hard to verify) that on his recording of When You and I Were Young Maggie that he actually jammed or overloaded the recording mechanism because of the number of notes he was playing in rapid succession at great velocity. One of his favorite concert segments was asking somebody from the audience to play a piece he didn't know (and that was a limited list), after which he would sit down and play it back for them, something that impressed even the highest ranking musicians. It was clear that not only could play virtually anything in the classical style, but that he could also make it his own, infusing Afro-American rhythms and other tricks into the performances. While he didn't quite "rag" the pieces, he did give them a kick that most performers at that time were perhaps not as adept as excecuting.
By 1916 it was estimated that the Boone Company had played over 26,000 concerts in 36 years, suggesting many days where three or four performances were held. But that was perhaps the peak of his career, and his long-time friend and manager John Lange died that same year. The novelty had started to wear off, particularly with a world that was progressing ahead, a world that was at war, and a world that was looking for change. While Vaudeville was still thriving in 1920, the beginning of the "jazz age," and movies were coming into their own, Boone's act was old hat by now. Without Lange the bookings diminished greatly and Boone, once flush with money, found himself and Eugenia struggling to make ends meet. In 1920 John and Eugenia are listed in Columbia with her as the head of household, and neither with an occupation listed. He continued to play sporadically over the next several years, but started to show signs of physical deterioration and other health issues. Yet the positive reviews kept appearing. One from September 8, 1924, from the Cape Girardeau Southeast Missourian stated that "Boone proved himself an artist of great versatality playing classical music with the grace and feeling of a true artist, interpreting folklore selections, and singing them with great drollness, and and whipping off ragtime selections with as musch energy as would Paul Whiteman's best 'tickler over the ivories.'" In December 1925, the same paper reported Boone off on another seven month tour to "Illinois, Kansas, Oklahoma, Corlorado, New Mexico and California. The end was become inevitable, however. His final publice concert was held on May 31, 1927 in Virden, Illinois, during which he announced his plans to retire. Boone's statement found its way into the papers in short order, as partially quoted here:  Blind Boone, negro pianist... brought his colorful concert career of 47 years to a close recently...
After completing a program before a large crowd, the aged musician announced the concert was his final appearance on tour and perhaps his final appearance fo all time. He will reture to Columbia, Mo., this summer and to recover his failing health. It is probable he will give further concerts on special occasions. Columbia was also the home of John [Lange], who for 36 years was Boone's manager. [Lange's] death is believed to have had a telling effect on Boone. In his last concert he was assisted by his niece, Miss Margaret Day, who sang many of his compositions, including "Keep On Till the Judgement." He also played his famous "Marshfield Tornado."... Blind Boone played many concerts in Kansas City, many of them in churches. Years ago one of his regular appearances here was at the old Lydia Avenue Christian church, Fifteenth st. and Lydia av. Always he impressed his audiences with his compositions, his technique, his remarkable memory and a huge watch... [He] would have a "children's program," producing his huge watch. Asked what time it was, he would press a stem and the watch would chime the quarter, half and full hours, to the delight of his juvenile auditors. It was [in Springfield, Illinois] in September, 1909, Boone first met Bert Williams, comedian. The musician called on the singer at the Shubert theater. Williams' dressing room is closed to many of his race, but he welcomed Blind Boone. Complements were mutual... "I feel fully repaid for my so-called affliction," Boone says. "I have music, friends, and am happy." Boone is a business man as well as a musician. His investments have been good. It is estimated his average annual income is about $17,000. Another report the following week in The Afro American claimed he has earned some $350,000 during his career claiming he was worth that much, not accounting for the expenses of travel and life in general along the way. Even with such a high income his growing expenses and payment of debts kept the family from being flush. John W. Boone was felled by a fatal stroke and acute dilation of his heart while visiting his half-brother Harry in Warrensburg in October, 1927. In spite of the grand reports of his impressive income, Boone's estate was worth a mere $132.65. Eugenia was soon reportedly found to be insane, although any record of commitment is difficult to locate. There was not even enough money left to afford a proper marker for his grave.
Fortunately the people of Columbia have since successfully resurrected the memory of Boone, forming the Blind Boone Memorial Foundation, Inc. in 1961. The Chickering oak grand was restored for a concert that same year by the Joplin Piano Company, and the first memorial concert was held using that instrument. They were responsible for marking his grave in 1971, and opening a museum dedicated to him and Missouri folk music. There is an annual ragtime festival held each June in Columbia, Missouri, named in Boones honor, in the grand Missouri theater. His last words speak well of his mission in life, which was most certainly accomplished wherever he went. "Blindness has not affected my disposition. Many times I regard it as a blessing, for had I not been blind, I would not have given the inspiration to the world that I have. I have shown that no matter how a person is afflicted, there is something that he can do that is worthwhile." He proved this beyond the shadow of any doubt, opening doors for a number of African-American artists and businessman through his generosity and extraordinary talent. A great deal of this biography was extracted or assembled from public government records, school records, newspapers, periodicals and commonly known information about Boone. Some of the information was culled from Blind Boone: Missouri's Ragtime Pioneer by Jack A. Batterson with Rebecca B. Schroeder, available from many sellers including Amazon.com. Thanks also to the Blind Boone Ragtime Festival and Blind Boone Park in Warrensburg, Missouri, for their continuing efforts to keep Boone's memory and positive message of hope alive. | |||||||||||||
George Botsford was a man who knew how to write tunes the public liked. He was born in Dakota Territory (South Dakota near present day Sioux Falls) to James G. Botsford (mother's name is shown only as H.M.), and had a younger brother, Charles. George spent his formative years in the Midwest, specifically in Iowa. There was a great deal of pre-ragtime style and influence in this region, as evidenced by the amount and quality of ragtime that eventually emerged from Iowa and Nebraska, so it is likely he was exposed to some of it.
 He recieved a fair amount of formal musical training in his youth and proved to be a natural performer. Botsford married singer Della Mae Wilson, the daughter of a music teacher with whom they lived for a time in Centerville, Iowa, later moving eastward to Clermont, Iowa.George is listed in 1900 as a "Theatrical Pianist" so was already likely expected to know some of the latest ragtime tunes and cakewalks. George and Della Mae set out on the road with the Hoyle Stock Company in Nashville, Tennessee, ultimately spending 34 weeks from 1900 to 1901 with the troupe. During that stint the Botsfords may have ventured to New York City in February 1901, as they placed an "At Liberty" ad in the New York Clipper: "George Botsford, Pianist, Director and Arranger, Della Mae Wilson, Comedy Parts, Character and Singing Specialties with Monologue. Address Geo. Botsford, Clermont, Iowa." They spent that summer in Champaign, Illinois, where George directed the orchestra at the Casino Theatre and Della Mae worked with the Bennett Stock Company. That fall they picked up with the Van Dyke & Eaton Company for another successful run on the road that ended in May 1902. Taking the summer off, the Botsfords finally relocated their base to New York City in late 1902 where they would stay for the remainder of George's career. They appear to have done one more season with Van Dyke & Eaton before settling for good in the summer of 1903. While there may have been hopes of a career for Della Mae, ultimately it was George who became the entertainer of the family. One of the first mentions of him after they moved was as a pianist for events held by the Fort Greene Council in February and November 1904, then as an organist at the Brooklyn Lodge of Elks, of which he had become a member, for a large memorial service in December. He was next heard from in 1905 as a vocal director for a large politically based performance at the Monroe Club. George was able to establish a foothold as a composer in 1906 with a couple of pieces published by the New York firma of M. Witmark and Sons, and Tin Pan Alley giant Jerome H. Remick. Among his first published compositions was the song Traveling, the chorus of which was adapted in 1921 by another set of composers as the Iowa Corn Song. George was found that years participating in a July 4 "Pop Concert" on Long Island, where he played along with several other entertainers, including the Edgemere Club Orchestra. This was around the time of his first minor hit, Pride of the Prairie (Mary).  In the spring of 1907 he was part of a show called The Haymakers presented in various venues around the New York City area. Botsford soon secured steady work as an arranger and composer for Remick, who had already published some of his work, in late 1907. He would remain with the firm for more than a decade. The following year would be a breakout one for the composer as he introduced his most famous and long-lived rag.Of Botsford's many rags, primarily composed from 1908 to 1913, most contained at least some of the secondary rag pattern, or repeated three over four, of which Black and White Rag of 1908 and Grizzly Bear Rag of 1910 are prime examples. As a result of this pattern, Black and White Rag was easy and enjoyable to play for the average pianist, and it became a runaway hit in short order. It has remained his most enduring syncopated work, and was also one of the first piano rags ever recorded to cylinder, as well as being ubiquitously in use in early sound cartoons of the 1930s. The piece further enjoyed many recordings during the ragtime revival of the 1950s and 1960s. Botsford's momentum clearly picked up in 1909 with a number of good instrumentals. However, that was what he was getting known for, and a changes was in the works. Early in 1910 he joined the staff of the Ted Snyder Publishing Company. His subsequent hit, Grizzly Bear, began a dance craze during a time of animal dances, including the Turkey Trot and the Fox Trot, which prompted its publisher Ted Snyder to have his new protégé Irving Berlin fit some lyrics to it. In this way it counts less as a genuine popular song than it does a retrofit hit, but either way it swept the country. In spite of, perhaps because of his success, George ended up back at the house of Remick later in the year. As noted in a November 1910 clipping in the Music Trade Review: "George Botsford is probably best known as a composer of the more difficult syncopated or ragtime instrumental successes, but with Alfred Bryan, he has turned out a new one in the popular song line that may put him in that class of song writers who write the 'Remick hits,' and a Remick hit means a lot to a song writer in monye and fame." The best was yet to come for Botsford in the song department. George and Della Mae are shown in Manhattan 1910, where he was listed as a music composer. Della Mae also often made the society pages of the New York Times throughout the 1910s in various organizations or hosting public parties, particularly for the Iowa New Yorkers. She was not known to have further pursued her performing career, however, even though she headed the entertainment committe for many functions. George often served as a choral arranger and conductor both on and off Broadway, working in genres such vaudeville, Broadway shows as a pianist, minstrel show revivals, and with the New York Police Department Glee Club. He also frequently advertised for amateur singers offering his services as a vocal coach. An active member of both the Elks and the Friars, he often headlined or even directed their shows on a regular basis. George also wrote the music for a few hit songs, typically with lyricist Jean Havez, of which Sailing Down The Chesapeake Bay of 1912 remains the biggest,  and was also a great musical boost for the Baltimore/Washington D.C. area.George had gained a lot of traction by this time, and warranted a rather large writeup in the New York Clipper on February 15, 1913, clearly larger than all of the other composers profiled on that page, and perhaps a bit more effusive than a historical perspective might support: George Botsford, known as the greatest exponent of technical ragtime music and the writer of some of the most popular "piano rags" was born In lowa, in the great farm section, "took" piano lessons from a teacher whose curriculum consisted of Bellak's and Czerny's studies, but who found in young George her most apt pupil, for before the year was out George could play a great deal better than his teacher, and appeared as a prodigy pianist at all the church and district school concerts. When George came to New York and joined the Remick forces only the words of encouragement from Messrs. [Jerome H.] Remick and [manager Fred] Belcher prevented him from going back to good old Iowa. To-day he ranks second to none as the arranger and instructor of trios, quartettes and choruses, and his ensemble chorus work is one of the features of the Remick house. He is really a self-made musician. As a composer he has met with great success, and his "Grizzly Bear" song was the forerunner of most of the ragtime songs so popular to-day. His big instrumental rags, such as "Black and White," "Chatterbox" and "Hyacinth," are novelties in syncopation that have been copied by most every other ragtime writer. The "Hyacinth Rag" is noted as being the most difficult rag for the piano ever written. Among his songs, "Pride of the Prairie, Mary." written for and sung to-day by Ethel Levey; "Denver Town," the original cowboy song, and "Maybe You Are Not the Only One Who Loves Me," have been big hits. His latest and greatest success is the rollicking Winter Song, "Oh, You Silvery Bells," a sleighing song which has superceded every sleigh bell song ever written. During the Winter Mr. Botsford coaches some of the most notable amateur minstrel shows, such as the Brooklyn Elks, the Harmomie Club, the Friendship Club, and his work in that line is without doubt equal to that of any professional stage director.
Soon after this George went to the American Piano Company (AMPICO) studios to record his only known piano rolls for the Rythmodik label. Only nine titles were known to have been performed by Botsford, all of them duets with Remick composer and arranger Albert Gumble. Some of them were later issued on the AMPICO label following the demise of Rythmodik. They remain the only audio documents of Botsford's fine playing, until perhaps a rare radio show transcription turns up.
In an article in the New York Times on July 24, 1913, it was stated that prima donna Cecil Cunningham would appear in vaudeville for the first time at Proctors, "using a singing sketch entitled 'The Married Ladies' Club,' by Jean C. Havez and George Botsford." Another article on March 8, 1915, highlighting an actor's fund benefit vaudeville entertinament, mentioned that it was directed by Botsford, and that he and his Harmonists took part by closing the program. George became one of the charter members of ASCAP in 1914. In the mid 1910s Botsford experimented with the concept of miniature opera, a one-act opera staged with a minimal cast and a small instrumental ensemble. Among these was one presented in early 1914, The Dutch Courtship, followed another presentation in the summer of 1915 at the grandest of all the vaudeville theaters, The Palace, A Holland Romance, possibly a reworking of The Dutch Courship. Both were composed to lyrics by Jean Havez and featured some notable talent in the cast. In spite of the considerable effort, the miniature operas ultimately failed to take hold, and the music contained in them was difficult to market in sheet music form. Botsford, the consumate music professional, clearly had a sense of humor to some extent, given the shenanigans in which he participated at various Elks and Friars functions. But as a professional he also had some frustrations which were cleverly channeled into a piece that appeared in the New York Clipper on June 6, 1917:  George Botsford, noted arranger, quartetter, producer, pea'nist, remover of harm from harmonies, and inserter of mellow in melodies, rises to the boiling point and wishes to be heard. George has been suffering long in silence, and at last wants it recorded that the following should be pasted on the walls of each piano room, and labelled "Goat Getters."1 — The singer who starts talking just as you get through playing the vamp. 2 — The "friend" of the singer who carries on a conversation while you are demonstrating a song. 3 — The singer who says he can read notes and can't. 4 — The singer who asks you to play the introduction, when you have played the song, including the introduction, enough times to have taught a blind man the words. 5 — A quartette with only three people. Likewise a two-act with one missing. 6 — The vocalist who uses his own words and hates to be corrected. 7 — The wise one who says "I sing all my songs in 'B' flat." Maintaining a position as a bandleader or conductor, Botsford managed to make inroads with some major publishers who kept his compositions in front of the public for many years. In his capacity as an arranger with Remick, George worked with manager Jens Bodewalt Lampe as part of one of the more efficient staffs in the industry, an organization with incredibly high standards for turning out socres without errata. He is shown on his 1918 draft record as employed by Remick in the capacity of musician, and not composer, doing much less of the latter by this time. Among his contributions to the Remick catalog were pieces in Bodewalt's Star Dance Folio series of the 1910s and 1920s. Botsford's composition and performance revenue was fairly substantial, and the Botsfords had a home address literally on Broadway by the mid 1910s. A passport issued in August 1918 indicates that he traveled to England, where many Broadway shows and American performers were finding success. He was also stationed for a time in France as part of the Over Seas Entertainment Unit towards the end of World War I, returning in late February 1919. One of the last public notices of him in the New York Times is on April 21, 1919, when he is mentioned as arranging a specialty number of a "Cycle of Songs from 1850-1919" in a program headlined by comedian Ed Wynn
The Botsfords are shown still living in Manhattan on Broadway in 1920, but his profession is obscured on the records, presumably still as a pianist or composer. He seems to have pretty much retired from composing in the 1920s, except perhaps occasionally for special stage shows or radio appearances, as little else was published. Among these shows, perhaps an extension of his miniature opera idea, were single act pieces such as Courting Days in 1919 and The Volunteers, a singing quartette act that was staged several times in various rendition from 1915 to 1925. Another short act he put together was a "miniature musical satire" called The Owl in 1923. Botsford's Glee Club was heard frequently on the AT&T station WEAF in the early to mid 1920s. In 1930 the Botsfords were still living in Manhattan, although they also had a Long Island residence. He was again listed as a pianist on Broadway. Interestingly, as with many ragtime composers when they grew older, George seems to have selectively trimmed a few years off his age, listing himself as 50 in 1930. Della had already trimmed her age somewhat in 1920. George added some solo appearances on the radio to his resumé, although it is unclear what radio stations or specific shows he may have played for. Some appearances were found in the early 1930s on WEAF and WPCH in New York. He evidently spent most of his last three decades playing rather than writing. One of the last events he was known to be at was an old-timer's song fest at the storied Algonguin Hotel on January 28, 1934. The article noted that many distinguished survivors of Tin Pan Alley were present and in good form, and stated that "George Botsford, lean, tall and gray... sat at the piano when the cigar smoke began to thicken. He played 'Sweet Rosie O'Grady,' 'My Gal Sal' and 'Blue Bell,' and the evening got underway. The disappointment left behind from these years is that his many pieces composed for minstrel shows and vaudeville one acts, most of which were very well reviewed, were not collected for publication or submission to an archive. George Botsford died early in 1949 just short of his 75th birthday. A notice published in the New York Times of February 3 was posted by Fred E. Ahlert, the president of ASCAP at that time. "We announce with profound sorrow the death of our beloved member and colleague, George Botsford, in New York City on Feb. 1, 1949." Within the next year, some of his rags would once again find their way into recordings with a renewed popularity, including his famous Black and White Rag interpreted by the "Hollywood Pianist," Ray Turner, on a Capitol Records single. It remains one of the single most performed rags into the 21st century. | ||||||||||
Often associated with Kansas City (at least in composition), Euday Bowman was actually a native of Texas, and his pieces fall under the category of "Texas Ragtime", a unique style all to itself. He was born in Tarrant County near the Fort Worth area to Kentucky native carpenter George A. Bowman and his Dutch immigrant wife Olivia (Lambin De Eske) Bowman. Euday was the youngest of three siblings, including his sister Mary (5/1877) and brother Julius (9/1880). While his birth year has traditionally listed as 1887, it is listed specifically as 1886 in the 1900 Census and on his 1917 draft record, therefore 1886 will be assumed here as most correct.
 Olivia was a a music teacher, so it is likely she was partly responsible for Euday's earliest exposure to piano and composition. Mary is also listed as a music teacher at 23 in the 1900 Census.After a few attempts at writing in his teens and early twenties, he struck out on his own as an itinerant pianist, playing largely in the prostitution districts of large towns and cities where the better bordellos were located. It was during this period that young Euday allegedly lost a leg while trying to hop a train. However, this story is contradicted by his 1917 draft record which showed no infirmities to prevent him from being enlisted, so this dismemberment would have happened later, if at all. In 1910 Bowman was living in Fort Worth, at least part of the time, with his now-widowed mother Olivia and older sister Mary, both working as music teachers. Euday was listed as a teamster. After spending some time working and playing piano in the districts in both Fort Worth and Kansas City, Bowman composed the 12th Street Rag. He claims it was as early as 1905, but this is hard to confirm. Ultimately simple due to its secondary rag three over four pattern, it was easy to play and easy to improvise on, making it a durable hit once it was published many years later. The first self-publication of this rag was deemed nearly impossible to play, particularly the introduction, and it was revamped for the second edition (with a hand-stamped copyright). After limited success in trying to market the piece by himself, and looking to cover his costs, Bowman sold the rag to the Jenkins Publishing firm in Kansas City for a mere $300. They marketed it well and helped convert the piece into the popular version that is still available into the 21st century. Whether 12th Street Rag was named after 12th Street in Kansas City, or the same in either Dallas or Fort Worth, all of which had a 12th Street in the entertainment and red light district, is a question of where he was when he wrote it or where he was thinking of, and this is not entirely verified. However, the first of three sets of lyrics added at a later date start out "Down in Kansas City...", likely a choice of the rag's Kansas City publisher. Based on his post-sale success with 12th Street Rag Bowman wrote rags for Sixth Street, Tenth Street and Petticoat Lane, and had a minor success with the Eleventh Street Rag.  Most of his compositions from this point were blues that were based in his Texas musical heritage, but also contained elements of good ragtime. They were initially published by a house he set up with a partner, Bowman and Ward. Unfortunately, once he sold 12th Street Rag and later some of the other Bowman and Ward scores to Jenkins for a relatively paltry sum, he did not see any more revenue from any of them in spite of the enormous national hit status of his most popular piece. For them it was just business, but it haunted Bowman for many years as he struggled to make a living. On his 1917 draft record he lists himself as a musician, but also as "not employed." Bowman was still living in Fort Worth in 1920 with his mother and sister, working as an equipment operator of some kind. In 1930 he was still living with his sister, their mother having died in 1922, but Euday now was shown as a pianist and jazz teacher, having gained some fame from his most famous work. During the 1920s and 1930s Bowman also submitted a number of other pieces to the Library of Congress, likely wary of repeating his 12th Street Rag experience, but they were not published, remaining in manuscript form (but now available at the Library of Congress site for viewing).Finally in 1942, when the original copyright renewal was available, Euday was able to get the rights back to his beloved and now long famous 12th Street Rag, but made little return from it during the war years and even soon after, in spite of reprints and promotion of the piece. In early 1948, big band leader Pee Wee Hunt inadvertently recorded Bowman's most famous opus during a radio show transcription session in Nashville for Capitol Records, when the engineer informed him there was still a little space left on the disc. The arrangement was silly in places with a doo-wacka-doo chorus by the trumpets, and the questionably pitched piano used for a solo passage was at least a quarter step flat. Not intended for airplay, the recording was nonetheless broadcast by stations all over the country, ironically during a musician's strike when studio recordings other than for the radio were being boycotted. The public demand for the track was nearly immediate, and caught Capitol Records by surprise. They soon released it on a 78 RPM single, and as a result the 12th Street Rag once again became a nostalgic hit. Bowman reportedly bought a very nice car with his first royalty check, but it was the only such check for that piece he would ever see. He tried to capitalize on the success of Hunt's recording by promoting himself and his other works, including making his own record of the famous piece on a private label, allegedly recorded on the same piano on which he composed it. However, Euday's health had deteriorated and the strain was too much for him. Euday Bowman succumbed at age 62 just as his star was rising again. Even after he died, artists as diverse as the Firehouse Five Plus Two and Liberace were keeping his memory alive through that one ubiquitous tune, born and raised in the brothels of Texas. Thanks to Adam Swanson who has a rare copy of Bowman's 1948 record and gave the info on it, as well as relaying information from Mike Montgomery on the probable 1923 side for Gennett. | ||||||||||
Brun Campbell and his personal ragtime history as narrated to the world have been at the center of everything from reverence to ridicule since after his death. Never having actually made a full living as a performer or composer, he nonetheless provided a somewhat credible link to Scott Joplin and his peers, one of the earliest or only non-Black pupils, or as often stated, disciples, of the famous composer of Maple Leaf Rag. This biography will not overtly attempt to either feed or assuage any controversy, but merely address some variances. It will try, as best as possible, to sort out the facts of Campbell's life, and be as clear as it is feasibly possible on what was relayed by Campbell as opposed to what was known about him. Note that much of what was relayed of his life exists in recordings and interviews made in the early 1940s, four decades after the fact, and that a number variances are found even between those declarations by Campbell, which can be attributed to either memory issues or some fanciful embellishment acquired over the years.
Sanford Brunson Campbell was born in early 1884 in Oberlin, Kansas to Luther E. Campbell of Wisconsin and Lulu (Emilie) A. [Bourquin] Campbell of Indiana. A brother, Harold A. Campbell, was born in Oberlin, Kansas on July 15 of 1891. Luther (sometimes later referred to as Lou or Lew) was only 17 when his first son was born, and he did not yet have a steady trade. Life was not always easy at that time on the northwest Kansas prairie, so diversions were welcome. The family also moved often, stopping for a time in St. Joseph, Missouri, after Harold was born. Possibly looking for adventure and opportunity, Luther was one of many who attempted to secure property when the Cherokee Strip Land Run commenced in September of 1893 in what would become a part of northern Oklahoma. While he failed to secure anything, Mr. Campbell settled the family near the starting point in Arkansas City, Kansas. Between 1893 and 1900, according to various city directories and records, the family was also in Guthrie in Oklahoma Territory, as well as Oklahoma City and El Reno, before returning to Kansas and Arkansas City. During this time Luther tried his hand as a traveling salesman, often bringing goods into the newly settled territory. He eventually abandoned that for a steadier career, and became a barber. Luther played some guitar and appropriately sang in what we would now consider a barbershop quartet. Lulu picked at the banjo as well. So it would seem obvious that during this period that Sanford would develop an interest in the piano. By the mid 1890s he received some musical training, equipping him enough to grasp the fundamentals of performance and structure, and become a competent player and reader. The family is shown in the both the 1895 Kansas Census and the 1900 Federal Census in Arkansas City, the latter with Luther employed in as a barber, while Sanford and Luther were still in school. This is important because the data reported in the 1900 Census is a bit at odds with Campbell's recorded recollections. This is Brun's story as relayed in the 1940s. It was in 1898, when Campbell would have been around 14, that he said he ran off from southern Kansas, finding his way to Oklahoma City. He then played for a while for the Armstrong-Byrd Music Company. It was possibly in that capacity that he met Otis Saunders (possibly Sanders), one of Joplin's colleagues. Saunders reportedly handed him a manuscript of Maple Leaf Rag to read through, which depending on the exact time frame was either nearing publication or had just recently been published. A manuscript would have constituted a hand written copy of Joplin's original, and some minor doubts could be cast on this possibility. Just the same, Campbell played through the copy and quickly became enamored with the soon to be famous rag. After returning home he ventured to Sedalia and became friends with Joplin and Saunders while taking lessons from the former. At the end of his time there, Saunders, or in some accounts, Scott Joplin, was supposed to have handed the teenager an 1897 silver half dollar, telling him that this was the date that the composer wrote his first "original rag." Then he went back home to Kansas, musically changed forever. That Sanford was listed as still in school in Kansas in early 1900 does not totally enforce the credibility of this tale, or even the less likely scenario that he returned home after this journey to Sedalia simply to attend high school. Also, if the year it happened was indeed 1898, there is the matter of a 14-year-old surviving on his own at that time, including provisions for lodging and food, although that was not unheard of. Just the same, here is a more likely scenario. Please note this is an educated opinion gathered from known facts and likely probabilities. That he traveled to Oklahoma in 1898 is likely, albeit for a short time. He and a friend of his, the son of a local doctor, went to Oklahoma City in 1898 (this was possibly the period in which the Campbell family was living there) for a celebration, probably for Oklahoma Day on September 16, 1898. He became separated from his friend and ended up at Armstrong-Byrd where he bided his time playing through music. Whether Saunders came by and heard him or not is still questionable, although he certainly may have received some complements and advice from others while he was there. It is likely that once reunited with his friend that the pair returned home. Instead of going to Sedalia at that time, it is more plausible that Campbell left for Missouri in the summer of 1900 at age 16, after the family was back in Arkansas City, and once school was out. Then the story would have logically progressed from there. In his autobiography Brun states, "I had been taught how to play by Scott Joplin in 1898 when I was 15 years old." As he was not fifteen until at least 1899, and that Joplin was not at all well known until after Maple Leaf Rag was published, and then only gradually, this further amplifies the plausibility that Campbell instead studied with Joplin in 1900. Another possibility suggested by They All Played Ragtime is that he may have spent the summer of 1899 in Sedalia, since it mentions his returning to Kansas after his time with Saunders and Joplin, and then returned the following summer. Otis Saunders/Sanders (whose true identity is currently a mystery since he does not appear in any Census) was indeed involved with helping Joplin get Maple Leaf Rag heard, played and widely promoted. However, it may potentially be considered unusual, based on data from interviews and knowledge of the past, that a mulatto pianist who was at least a decade older, would approach a white youngster in a music store to have him read a manuscript. It is more likely that the interchange involved Saunders giving Campbell a published copy of the rag, hoping to have it played locally and promoted for sale. In a 1945 Record Changer article, Brun contradicts his earlier story, saying that he learned the rag personally from Joplin as it was first written, a tale which seems even less likely given other facts. To further confound things, the Maple Leaf Club for which the rag was named and dedicated would not open until late November of 1898, meaning that Saunders would have been carrying a manuscript that was either unnamed or had a working title. So we can't be sure what Campbell saw or heard. This time line still works with the 1900 Census findings, and with Saunders going to Sedalia in mid 1900 or even early 1901 when Joplin was still there, and following him to St. Louis in 1901 as well. A further reinforcement of this contention is that Campbell became a barber like his father, a trade better learned in his mid-teens rather than at age 12 or 13, just prior to when he allegedly left home. It also indicates that he maintained better family ties than the previous scenario might suggest. The element of Campbell having seen the rag in manuscript form before it was published would indeed make for a more colorful story, but it is hard to confirm, while other known facts appear to diminish (but not eliminate) this possibility. There is evidence to support Campbell being in Sedalia around 1900. The extent of tutelage he received from Joplin of anybody else there is unknown. Sedalia was a fairly tolertant town in terms of race relations, so that the 16 year old might have been seen in a black neighborhood (and perhaps a bit less likely in one of the Negro clubs along the north side of Sedalia's Main Avenue near Ohio Street) would not necessarily have raised too many eyebrows. Campbell later claimed to have been Joplin's only white pupil, although there is little in the way of hard evidence to fully support even this. Given his playing style, what would he have learned from Joplin at that time? Perhaps it was the fundamentals of syncopation or composition, or even notation. Campbell's recordings reflect more of a folk ragtime style that would have been equally indigenous to central Missouri, convincingly suggesting that much of what he learned was influenced by a wide variety of players less skilled than Joplin. On Joplin's playing, he variously said that Joplin was a master at playing his own rags, which needed no embellishment, and that while Joplin was a competent pianist, his playing wasn't going to "set the world on fire." While in St. Louis, and later in Kansas City, Campbell was able to pick up work in saloons and sporting houses. It was there that he became familiar with the playing of Arthur Marshall, Scott Hayden, Tom Turpin, Tony Williams, Melford Alexander, Jim and Ida Hastings, Louis Chauvin and Charley Thompson, claiming to also have taken lessons with at least some of them. This is what he said of their playing in general. “None of the original pianists played ragtime the way it was written. They played their own style. Some played march time, fast time, slow time and some played ragtime blues style. But none of them lost the melody and if you knew the player and heard him a block away you could name him by his ragtime style.” Of the St. Louis crowd he claimed that Thompson was the best of them, eclipsing even the short-lived Chauvin who was known for his pianistic prowess. Campbell eventually fulfilled some of his wanderlust by traveling as an itinerant pianist throughout Missouri, Kansas and Oklahoma, and points south and southwest of the region, allegedly billing himself as "The Ragtime Kid". Variations on that include "The Original Ragtime Kid," "The Dude," the curious "The Indian Kid," "Kid Campbell," and "Brunnie Campbell." Brun played anywhere he could find, including honky-tonks, barrelhouses (which had tables made of beer barrels), white brothels, pool halls, and riverboats. This is most likely the time that he developed his unique playing style, absorbing the influences of other pianists he encountered, and the period in which he wrote the bulk of his compositions that were recorded in the early 1940s. But there is again some question about how long he was on the road, and whether or not he maintained a home base. Among those he claims to have met, and likely did at some point, include Tony Jackson and Ferdinand "Jelly Roll" Morton. Given that Morton was six years his junior, it was not so plausible that they met before even 1904 when Morton was fourteen and first ventured up to St. Louis. However, in the 1940s Campbell stated: “I would like to give the late 'Jelly Roll' Morton, of New Orleans, credit for his early contribution to ragtime, which was King Porter Stomp, of 1906. He named it after Porter King, a great Negro pianist of the Gulf Coast. Another great Negro pianist of New Orleans was Tony Jackson, and he could out-play the great 'Jelly Roll' Morton. The music these great Negro composers developed will live forever, and I am proud of the fact I was associated with them at the beginning.” It seems more probable that Campbell would have developed a relationship with Morton when they were both in Los Angeles in the early 1920s, but either scenario is possible. During his time on the road he claims to have played for many luminaries from politicians to outlaws, of which some of the claims have been considered a stretch by other historians. Among those he claimed to have performed for include President Teddy Roosevelt, Buffalo Bill (William C. Cody), Governor Thompson B. Ferguson of what was then still Indian Territory before it was Oklahoma, minstrel leader Lew Dockstader, O.K. Corral veteran and lawman Bat Masterson, and famed outlaws Frank James (Jesse's brother), Cole Younger, Emmett Dalton and Henry Starr. His stated that his greatest thrill was playing Maple Leaf Rag at the Kerfoot Hotel in El Reno, Oklahoma for Bill Cody's friend and rival, Pawnee Bill (Gordon Lillie). He and his wife, May Manning, were the proprietors of the Pawnee Bill Historical Wild West Show, which was most often held at their ranch at Pawnee, Oklahoma. In They All Played Ragtime, Campbell said that “Twenty years later I met him in Tulsa and he asked me to play it again.” The 1905 Kansas Census shows Campbell (erroneously listed as Branson) once again living with his brother and parents in Arkansas City. It could be that he was discouraged during his travels either by a limited skill set or the popularity of the talented black performers that populated the region. There is less of a possibility that he just happened to be visiting the day that Census was taken, given that he is shown to be working as a barber, not a musician. Some time around 1907 to 1908 Campbell claims he retired from the playing life (it was likely earlier), and was married to G. Ethel Campbell (little is known about her). He then settled in to his father's line of work, albeit now in Tulsa, Oklahoma where Luther and Lulu had also moved. Sanford (he was invariably listed in each Federal Census as Sanford B.) and Ethel are shown there in the 1910 Census living on Second Street, with Campbell working as a barber in his own shop. There is no indication that he was working as a musician by this time, although it remains a possibility. Brun, as he was more often referred to by this time, continued to live in Tulsa for most of the decade. However, his first marriage broke up within a couple years. On May 14, 1913 he got applied for a marriage license in Tulsa, this time with Lena Louise Burrough of Fort Smith, Arkansas. She was 18-years-old to his 29 (he claimed to be 27). It is assumed they were soon married as on his 1918 draft card he lists a "Mrs. Sanford B. Campbell," although living at a different address than his. He was at 111 E. Fourth and Lena was living at 110 E. Independence. Brun was working as a barber for Hodges and Clements. Under the claims for potential disqualification due to physical issues, he claimed he was "Shot through joint of big toe in right foot." The story behind this is unclear, but given his earlier life as an itinerant pianist, it is very plausible. They were likely divorced soon after this as Campbell is next seen in Venice, California in 1920. He was now living with his parents and brother again. Luther was the sales manager for a coffee company, Harold worked as what appears to be a traveling salesman in the grocery business, and Brun had opened his own barber shop in Venice. The community had been founded just west of Los Angeles on the shore a couple of decades prior, with the gimmick of having recreated the essence of Venice, Italy, complete with canals and gondolas. Only a couple of the canals exist today, but Venice Beach is still a popular destination for locals. Brun remained there for the rest of his life. Campbell was married a third time, either in the mid to late 1920s or as early as 1918, to Marjorie (May) Campbell. According to the 1930 Census they had three daughters, Dorothy (c.1919), Louise (c.1923) and Patricia (c.1925). Given that all three girls were born in Oklahoma where their mother was from, he possibly acquired them in the marriage.
Brun's shop was at 711 Venice Boulevard nest to the Venice City Hall. In interviews in the 1940s when he was being "rediscovered," he claimed to have not touched a piano through the 1920s and 1930s. However, Norm Pierce, a barber supply salesman in during the depression who later owned a San Francisco record shop, said he visited Brun's shop frequently in the 1930s, and that there was a piano in the back room of the shop that Campbell played often. This kept his playing chops in good shape, which came in handy in the early 1940s. There was a revival of 1920s jazz in the works, led at this time by Lu Watters and Wally Rose in San Francisco. In 1942, just as World War Two was underway, they recorded several tracks as the Yerba Buena Jazz Band, reviving the works of Joseph "King" Oliver and others, throwing in a little ragtime for good measure. While the progression of this revival and the YBJB was interrupted by the war, jazz enthusiasts and writers started seeking out the originals from this era. Paul E. Affeldt started visiting Brun around this time, and said that when he'd visit the shop and ask the barber to tell him something about the ragtime years, the "Closed" sign would go up and the stories would come forth in great numbers. Campbell also had a number of home-recorded acetate records dating possibly back to the 1910s. Trombonist Turk Murphy, as quoted by pianist and historian Terry Waldo in This is Ragtime, said, "You could always tell the guys who were going to see him, because of their haircuts. He wasn't really that good of a barber, but he played good ragtime." Hoping to do some good on this new interest in old music, Brun set out to do a favor for an old friend. He had heard that Lottie Joplin, Scott's widow, was going through hard times. So Brun recorded Maple Leaf Rag in his shop on an old $50 upright he says he refurbished, simply so the royalties would go to help her out of her situation. He recorded for Ray Avery's Echoes record company, and also did some sides for Watters' own West Coast label (eventually acquired by Lester Koenig's Good Time Jazz and then Fantasy Records). Somewhere during this time period and prior to 1947, Campbell composed and recorded Chestnut Street in the 90's, which remains his best known and most often played rag. Many of the other pieces he ended up recording around 1947 had a similar and earthy style, but there were also quotes or paraphrases of well known rags of the past. In some cases, he recorded snippets of a minute or less that are considered potential fragments of a larger piece, or perhaps just a riff that inspired him. Each of the privately recorded discs that Brunson did were initially released on one-sided records because, as Campbell later told writer Floyd Levin, "If they want to hear two tunes, let them buy two records." Based on his growing fame among jazz fans and his links to Scott Joplin, it was inevitable that Campbell would be interviewed in 1949 by Rudi Blesh and Harriet Janis for their upcoming book They All Played Ragtime. Brun also penned his own autobiography which now resides at Fisk University, a largely black institution in Nashville, Tennessee. A release of his previous recordings as well as the publication of They All Played Ragtime in 1950 brought new found fame to many previously unsung composers and performers, ranging from Joseph F. Lamb and Charley Thompson to Brun Campbell. Another researcher and fan who exchanged mail with Campbell was then high school student, now historian Mike Montgomery. He was among the first of the ragtime revivalists to have learned and then spread Campbell's full name to other ragtime writers. However, Campbell was not able to revel in his growing fame for long. Scott Joplin's only white student passed on in late 1952, leaving behind a legacy of unique views of the ragtime era, as well as a number of still unanswered questions. Affeldt eventually acquired many of the acetates cut by Campbell, and released a pair of records on his Euphonic label, named after Affeldt's favorite Joplin Rag. It became clear to those who listened to these tracks that while other players, at least those who continued working in that capacity into the 1920s and 1930s, changed their style to fit the times, Campbell retained what he had learned in those early days of ragtime. In that regard, his 1940s performances are perhaps among the most authentic of those done during that time, giving us a good view into what some saloon piano players may have sounded like during those glory days in St. Louis. For all of those questions left behind by Campbell, the answers that we know of, including his performances, are still a treasured look into a time long past. In addition to the author's own research on Campbell, based largely on public records, his recorded comments and snippets of his autobiography, acknowledgement should be extended to other good sources of information on the composer. These included Richard Egan who transcribed 22 of Campbell's pieces and wrote a short biography to accompany them in Brun Campbell: The Music of the Ragtime Kid, which can still be found with a little effort. Further reviewed research was compiled by Peter Hanley, of which more can be read at Mike Meddings' extraordinary Doctor Jazz site. | |||||||
Axel W. Christensen was an important figure in ragtime, not so much as a composer but as a promoter, trying to get the concepts of the music into the hands of the average pianist while making a nice profit at the same time. He was born to Danish immigrants Charles C. and Mary Christensen in Chicago, Illinois, a decade after the great fire that had leveled the city. Axel was the oldest of four boys and one girl. He had a typical musical upbringing that included piano lessons and harmony and theory. Contemporary reports described him as only average in his ability. There was reportedly an incident in his mid teens in which after playing marches and some forms of classical music at a party he was shown up by a much better pianist playing early cakewalks or ragtime, something that the females reacted to in a very positive way. This evidently affected him deeply, and it was then that he became passionately interested in popular piano styles, including ragtime. By 1900 he was still only peripherally involved with music, as the Census shows him working in mechanical engineering of some kind, the same field his father was in.
The young entrepreneur finally managed to compose and publish a rag in 1902, The Ragtime Wedding March (Apologies to Mendelssohn). The main point of this piece was to prove that virtually anything could be syncopated into a ragtime style, a catalyst for what was to come in his career. Determined to make good with his musical education and passion, Christensen opened his first ragtime instruction school in Chicago's Fine Arts building in 1903 with the promise of "Ragtime Taught in Ten Lessons." He had developed a curriculum that consisted of exercises in various syncopated patterns on easy melodies. His goal, although not overtly stated, was to teach the person not so much how to play a piano rag, but how to rag any music that they encountered or already knew. This was akin to turning around his own bad teenage experience into something positive - taking the 98 pound weakling pianist and making them popular with syncopated muscles. With good advertising and positive results, he was able to grow the business fairly steadily. Axel soon married Reine Annette Swanson in September of 1903, and she would eventually become materially involved in the burgeoning business. They soon established Christensen's headquarters in the Kimball Building. Business reached a point of saturation in the Chicago area by 1908 with four school branches in various parts of the city. However, Christensen had been selling his books by mail order and in selected music stores in an effort to get to people outside of his Midwest radius.  The first of these was published in 1906, Christensen's Instruction Book Number 1 for Rag-Time Piano Playing, the very title forecasting a series of such books. The basic course was updated at least five times during the ragtime era. Many of the exercises could be equated to a syncopated version of the famous Hanon exercises, repeating a syncopated pattern up and down the scale. Other focused courses also soon appeared in print, including a course on playing for Vaudeville, a fairly lucrative profession at that time. Going beyond how to play, these books also outlined how to build up a well-paced set of anywhere from 20 minutes to an entire evening concert, important lessons for an entertainer to know in order to engage an audience.Axel was finally confident enough in the strength of his teaching methodology, which was frequently updated to include new styles as they came along, and opened a branch of his school in San Francisco in late 1908. The results encouraged him to expand to Cincinnati by 1910, and even St. Louis, a hotbed of ragtime activity for a decade by that time. He also expanded his personal repertoire of compositions with a number of fine rags and songs over the next few years. In July, 1910 the Christensens were shown living in a fairly nice area of Chicago with their recently-arrived only son, Carle Alexander, born July 27, 1909. They also had a live-in servant, so the publishing and teaching enterprise was paying off fairly well by then. He listed himself as a proprietor of music schools. By 1910 Christensen was truly the Czar of Ragtime, a title which would stay with him for many years and that he used often in Vaudeville. In 1915, utilizing his passion for rearranging older tunes with syncopation, Axel released a series of these arrangements that were included in some of his courses and sold separately as well. His educational reach would eventually extend to 25 different cities by 1918, near the end of the ragtime era. Axel's 1918 draft record shows him still in Chicago as the owner and manager of the Christensen School of Popular Music. In May 1918 in Melody Magazine, Christensen wrote a provocative article titled Can Ragtime Be Suppressed which extolled the virtues of the genre, and made clear that those who would try to prevent its continuation would ultimately fail in their endeavors due to the public thirst for more ragtime. While its origin was only a mere two decades in the past, he postulated on the mystery of that very genesis. "Many writers have endeavoured to trace ragtime down to its origin, but there are almost as many opinions as to where ragtime had its source as there are writers on the subject. Ever since there has been such a thing as ragtime, there have been people who would tell you that ragtime was on the decline, and that it would soon be a thing of the past. Twelve or thirteen years ago a well-known music publisher told me in all seriousness to devote my efforts to something besides ragtime, because the knell of ragtime had been sounded; it had run itself to death and the publishers would soon stop printing it altogether. He sagely told me that if I had only gone into business a few years previous I might have made something out of it, but there was no longer any hope. That was twelve years ago and ragtime is now stronger than ever." The truth is that it was on the way out, and the Christensen schools would have to adapt in order to follow the national musical trend to jazz. It was reported in They All Played Ragtime that some 200,000 students had registered nationally with the schools by 1923. A 1923 edition of the Music Trade Review noted that Christensen had ninety-two branches around the country. Totals would eventually rise to 350,000 by the onset of the Great Depression, with another 200,000 by 1935, although the latter figure can likely be disputed given the economic climate. In any case, the school was likely responsible for a great many ragtime pianists that ranged from hobbyists to small town heroes, many of them perhaps playing either in Vaudeville or for movie houses of the era.  Much of the success of his program, beyond the frequently updated exercises and examples, was his willingness to trust other teachers to follow the program and succeed as he had with it. Many of them also had careers as performers or composers. Among those who are known are Robert Marine from New York, Bernard Brin from Seattle, Marcella Henry from Chicago and Edward J. Mellinger from St. Louis. It has been noted that at times 500 or more students would attend recitals as Mellinger's St. Louis branch, and some of them became large celebrations of playing with student/teacher duets, trios, and perhaps even more, creating good press for Christensen.In addition to running this enterprise, Axel continued to write rags at this time, sometimes published separately but more often included in the courses. While not quite of the same quality as some of the better selling pieces of the time, they were still carefully crafted and accessible to his students. In 1912 he reportedly became one of the first artists to record "hand-played" piano rolls for the QRS company, a claim later contradicted by ads for another company saying he had not recorded for anybody else before 1923. Nonetheless, the QRS rolls state that each piece was "Played by the Composer." Christensen also published selected rags by other composers, favoring those who taught for them. Another great promotional tool was his monthly Ragtime Review magazine which ran from December 1914 to late 1918, and included tricks and tips, humorous stories, articles on performers, composition reviews and reprints of rags by many publishers who licensed the pieces to him, perhaps in exchange for advertising which was prominent in most editions. Among those was John S. Stark, who allowed one of his ragtime publications or articles to be published in the magazine each month during at least the first year, and sporadically from 1915 on. The bulk of pieces that appeared subsequently were by Christensen or others who taught at his various branches in the Midwest. The Ragtime Review magazine's subscriber base was eventually bought by publisher Walter Jacobs around 1918, and he incorporated it into his own Melody Magazine, which was largely managed by composer George L. Cobb. The circumstances of this buyout are unclear, but it likely removed some competition for Jacobs as well as giving him a greatly increased circulation. It should also be noted that many others tried to emulate Christensen's publishing and teaching success, and some of the literature for smaller ragtime or piano schools are obviously directly derived, and in some cases plagiarized from the Czar's own work. However, his name dominated the field, particularly in cities where his schools continued to do good business. His Los Angeles branch even claimed a few movie stars in the late 1910s among their clientele. As ragtime languished and jazz thrived with the approaching 1920s, Christensen quickly adapted, and soon his ragtime instruction books and schools became jazz-oriented. As novelty piano became popular in the early 1920s he added novelty riffs and licks to the course, as well as some novelty compositions of his own. There were even books on how to execute piano breaks in a variety of ways, an indispensable aid to the amateur jazz band pianist. On a few occasions in the 1920s Axel recorded some sides for the Okeh and Paramount record labels. In 1923 he signed a contract with the United States Music Company to record piano rolls of his own works, as well as instruction rolls of the Christensen system. That same year he opened a music store at 526 South Western Avenue in Chicago, featuring musical merchandise, Okeh records, music rolls and radio amplifiers. Axel
The tour opened at the Circle Theatre in Indianapolis, Indiana, for a two week stay in January 1924. It was presented with the cooperation of and promotion by the U.S. Music Company. So as expected, many of the pieces he played just happened to be available on rolls in the lobby. He gave his own shows around the country in both private and public venues, and occasionally with Vaudeville troupes. His own shows were sort of a one-man Vaudeville evening with music, singing and stories (no dancing was reported). Among the advertised treats were syncopated versions of classics like the ubiquitous Poet and Peasant Overture. This is in line with his comment that "classical music is one of the finest of arts and dwells briefly upon the original narratives of some of the best-known classics." In the act he also demonstrated how some of these classics were often used as the basis for a popular tune, including his own syncopated versions of the such works. Overall, the tour was a success for both the artist and the sponsor, who reported an increase in roll sales in each city Christensen appeared in. The entertaining Mr. Christensen continued to tour for much of the rest of the decade. In 1925 and 1926 he was put on the popular Orpheum and Keith circuit of vaudeville theaters earning at least $1,000 per week. At that same time he appeared on many of the earliest radio stations in the country, including KYW (Philadelphia), WEBH, WGN, WMAQ, WQJ and WLS (all Chicago stations). He also recorded some of his ethnic comic monologues used on stage on the Broadway label, a subsidiary of Paramount. He also attended or hosted many events in Chicago when he was in town. On December 7, 1926, a "stag dinner" was given in honor of the maestro by the Chicago Piano Club which he had joined several years prior. The affair was reportedly a great success, and Piano Club members awarded him with a solid gold pocket watch. In early 1927 Christensen started a series of programs on Chicago station WHT owned by the Wrigely corporation. One of the highlights of the first show was an imitation of the late Bert Williams singing Somebody Else, in addition to his usual comedy. Axel's regular haunt in Chicago in 1926 and 1927 was the Palace Theater, which no longer required his services after their conversion to sound in 1928. Over the next three years he continued to regale audiences everywhere on radio and in person with his humorous anecdotes, which more and more took the balance of an evening with less piano playing. A book of many of these stories, Axel Grease for Your Funny Bone, was published in 1930. Also by 1930, his son Carle had joined the act, performing at the piano more frequently on stage with his famous father. By the time the Great Depression set in around 1930, Axel's schools and even his publications were likely considered a frivolous expense by most consumers in light of the economic downturn, and he had to scale back the operation. It had clearly become a family business, as in 1930 Mr. Christensen, now living in the exclusive River Forest suburb of Chicago, lists himself as the proprietor of his small empire, with Reine as a manager and Carle, now 20, as an assistant manager. Many of the schools closed, although he still published courses in learning jazz, and later swing music, throughout the decade. Axel still managed to find performance work in the final days of Vaudeville and for many private functions and conventions. By this time he was promoting comedy, a much needed commodity, as a major part of his entertainments. This included promotional material with examples of his jokes and humorous stories. Carle Christensen married Alyce Oglozinski in Chicago on April 20, 1931. The couple subsequently moved to California soon after, perhaps to manage a Christensen school there or even pursue an additional degree (the circumstances are still under investigation). Alyce gave birth to Carlos Christensen on March 15, 1933 with David G. Christensen following within a couple of years. However, the couple was back in Chicago at some point later in the decade with Axel and Reine, as Carlos was schooled in Illinois. In the mean time, the elder Christensen switched radio stations in 1934, now performing regularly in WJJD in Chicago. The schools there remained in business throughout the 1930s and into the 1940s. Indeed, an advertisment run in Chicago papers from the summer of 1945 through the following spring promoted the Christensen School of Popular Music, urging the reader to "Learn Swing Piano the Axel Christensen Way." The ads appear to cease around June, 1946. At some after World War Two, the extended family relocated to Southern California. Carle and his brood returned there permanently around 1946 and Axel and Reine followed in late 1947 or early 1948. As related by Chris Christensen, Axel was a strong believer in the Baha'i faith, and there was a particularly notable temple and school in Ojai, just east of Santa Barbara. It does help to clarify why Carle had an Ojai address for many years, and indeed retired there. It also speaks clearly on the strong faith base for the Christensen family that kept them together. According to his grandson David, Axel not only kept on performing in Los Angeles after his move, but made a rare television appearance. He was listed as appearing on KLAC 13, October 4, 1951, on the show You're Never Too Old. Christensen performed all over the Los Angeles area for a variety of functions nearly up to his death. Many were private functions for small civic organizations, and there is at least one notice published as late as April 3, 1955, in a Long Beach, California newspaper. The music school entrepreneur died months later in Los Angeles at age 74 leaving behind a wake of happy people who somehow had managed to learn the joy of ragtime through his methodologies. His wife survived him through 1962. Carle continued to issue Christensen publications through the mid 1960s. He retired to Ojai and lived there until his death in 1996. Carlos, a music enthusiast by birthright who became a computer scientist in the 1960s, died in the spring of 2007 in Concord, Massachusetts, where he had been collecting memories of his youth with grandfather Axel. David G. Christensen is the sole remaining member of the family who knew Axel, and has followed the Christensen creative bent as producer of video and music projects, residing in Port Townsend, Washington. Many thanks to Canadian Ragtime historian Ted Tjaden who provided some of the information here to supplement my research, as well as posting many Christensen items on his site, including the entire run of the Ragtime Review. Please visit his site at www.ragtimepiano.ca. Also, Robert Perry for providing the QRS piano roll information and Andrew Barrett on a couple of the recordings. Thanks also to Chris Christensen, the family of Carlos Christensen, and David G. Christensen for some additional clarifications. | |||||||||||||||||||
Edward Claypoole was truly a court composer; literally. In spite of a pretty good legacy of great compositions, he spent his career working in the courts. Born in Baltimore to court clerk Captain James Yeardley Claypoole and his wife Mary (Molly) Claypoole, both Maryland natives, Eddie was the youngest of five children, including Robert G. (11/1875), James Y. Jr. (11/1876), Genevieve W. (6/1879) and Martha A. (10/1881). Captain Claypoole was also involved in politics in Baltimore, part of his circle of friends in his position as a clerk in the Court of Common Pleas. Edward would spend virtually all of his life in Baltimore. Some of the narrative of Claypoole's life was derived from the extraordinary efforts of Dave Jasen and Gene Jones in the book That American Rag published in 2000. It is a highly recommended source for a very different look at where ragtime came from and how it eventually reached the public. The rest was uncovered by the author in collective public records and articles from the ragtime era. The error in the 1900 Census was pointed out to the author by researcher Barry Champan who found the misalignment with the death of James five years prior. | ||||||
It also encouraged him to do more than just play in local venues, so he kept writing. His father died in the October 1895. As of the 1900 Census, Eddie's mother was shown as widowed, and Eddie was still in school. Curiously the enumerator caused some confusion by listing her name as Martin, and showing her as male, and a court clerk. But given confirmation of James' death and an apparent change on the record, this was a sloppy oversight as the other information matches.
It was also one of his more productive writing periods. Alabama Jigger became a popular band hit, and his Reuben Fox Trot a decent seller. Then he tipped the scales of justice in his favor with - the scale. The simple concept of applying syncopation to a scale - a scale played in five different tonalities no less - earned Claypoole a permanent place in the ragtime hit parade.
A native of New York state born to Linus B. Cobb and Jeannette (Maine) Cobb (often called "Nettie"), George L. Cobb was a versatile composer who displayed inherent musical talent at a young age. He spent most of his early years in Mexico, New York. The son of a farmer, Linus started in the grocery business, but by the 1890s he was working as a merchant, real estate broker and entrepreneur. The senior Cobb also had a hand in organizing the Mexico Electric Light, Heat and Power Company in 1890 when electricity in the home was still a fairly new concept. Linus was also involved with the Mexico Military Academy from 1894 to 1895 as a trustee.
 For a time he even sold bicycles during the beginning of the cycling craze of the 1890s. A snippet from the Mexico Independent of April 26, 1893, reads as follows: When in Syracuse the other day we went into the store of Reuben Wood's Sons, and were much surprised to see so many bicycles of the best makes. It is really a beautiful assortment, and it is no wonder that the firm is receiving orders for machines from various parts of the State. So well pleased were we with the wheels that, although owning a very handsome tricycle, we could not help buying one of them - the Queen City. Olin Wheeler, who was with us, got himself a Falcon - a beautiful machine. Carl Ballard and George L. Cobb have each a Falcon wheel, purchased of the same firm. L. B. Cobb of this village is agent for these and other wheels sold by the above-named firm.
After his traditional schooling George, received training from the School of Harmony and Composition at Syracuse University, attending there from 1904 to perhaps 1908. While in school he had one his first compositions, Dimples, locally published, and self-published Mr. Yankee, both at age 19. The following year Cobb started releasing pieces under the imprint of the H.C. Weasner & Company in Buffalo. One of them, Fleetfoot, was evidently a very good seller for the firm, and by 1907 Weasner claimed that over 100,000 copies were sold, a very high number for an instrumental by an unknown writer, so questionable at best.
The first mention of Cobb in the news was located in the Buffalo Morning Express on January 20, 1907, mentioning another publisher with which he would have a long relationship. "The Express has received a march and two-step, 'Western Life,' by George L. Cobb, published by Charles I. Davis, Detroit, Mich. It has been featured by Sousa's Band and it is sure to make a hit, for it has all the elements of success - pretty melodies, good harmonies and irresistible swing." After graduation Cobb and his family moved to Buffalo, although his intended career track there was not readily discerned. It was most likely to work as a performer and perhaps an arranger or composer. His earlier compositions had helped him win some writing contests, and one in particular would emerge in his new locale.  It was a promotional rag of sorts titled Buffalo Means Business, for which he won the prize of free publication of the promotional piece. At the very least it attracted the attention of his eventual frequent lyricist Jack Yellen (1892-1991), who was a reporter with the Buffalo Courier through at least 1914 (potentially a bit longer). They wrote their first song together in short order.The subsequent submission of Cobb's Rubber Plant Rag to Walter Jacobs Publishers of Boston garnered him visibility and significant exposure in the East. Cobb would end up spending several fruitful years working with and for Jacobs. His earliest rags saw moderate success and distribution, and George started to compose pieces much more intricate in nature. Jacobs had hoped he had an exclusive arrangement with Cobb for his instrumental compositions, but later found out otherwise. A number of these compositions were released in packets in the early teens and beyond as orchestrations arranged for bands or movie theater ensembles. As per a Music Trade Review notice from March 12, 1910, this practice was clearly already in process. Concerning an announcement by Jacobs of the premiere of his new magazine, Orchestra Monthly, they noted that "This [publication] is to be to the orchestra what his 'Cadenza' is to the banjo, mandolin and guitar fraternity. In this number [75,000 copies] is a new instrumental piece, 'The Aggravation Rag,' by George L. Cobb, composer of the popular 'Rubber Plant Rag.' This is given on orchestra-size plates for ten pieces and a similar new selection will be made a feature each month. These selections will not be printed or published in any other form and can be had only in the Orchestra Monthly." In spite of this proclamation, both pieces did appear as piano solos in short order. In the 1910 Census (where the family name was erroneously notated as Coff), George was living in Buffalo with his parents and his maternal grandmother. He is listed as a composer of music and the occupation for Linus appears to be mines or miner, so he may have been invested in a mine of some kind as part of his real estate business. After a scant output of pieces in 1910, including one with Yellen, there was an unexplained dearth of Cobb compositions in 1911. George's sole 1911 composition with Yellen was a song of average quality. It is probable that Yellen was in Michigan by this time for further schooling. However, the output increased substantially in 1912. It is unclear what else George was doing for income, but living with his parents obviously eased that burden considerably.  Cobb was briefly married to Clara (or Claire) Bailey, the estimated marriage and subsequent divorce between mid-1912 and late 1915. A Clara Bailey of upstate New York was found in Census records, and was likely his first wife. She was shown to be single in 1910 and divorced in 1920, and was in the right area and time frame to have encountered Cobb.Sometimes overlooked by pianists are the songs that Cobb wrote or co-wrote. They had the undercurrent of piano-based ragtime with the salability of popular songs. He also had some success at writing his own lyrics from time to time. Just the same, upon his graduation in 1913 from the University of Michigan, Jack Yellen came back to Buffalo to continue to write songs with the composer he so admired. Among the most frequently performed Cobb and Yellen songs are a number of "Dixie" tunes. These include Listen to That Dixie Band, See Dixie First and their first major tune about the storied south, All Aboard for Dixie Land. As recounted by performer/historian Frederick Hodges, the pair had trouble selling the song during the difficult year of 1913 when publishers were fighting with discount houses, performers, and even composers wanting some equity. So they ended up selling the piece to the smaller publishing house of J. Fred Helf. In October a new show by composers Rudolf Friml and Otto Hauerbach titled High Jinks was receiving only tepid response in its trial run in upstate New York. Producer Arthur Hammerstein was looking for something to save it from total failure, making adjustments at every theater it was shown in. One of the problems was that there were no real "hit" tunes in the score for star Elizabeth Murray, a long-established energetic "coon shouter," to put over on the audience. In Chicago, Hammerstein decided to interpolate All Aboard for Dixie Land into the show, creating both a hit show and a hit song in an instant. By the time it got to Broadway in December 1913, the entire nature of the production had changed due to that piece. It helped codify Cobb and Yellen as very credible tunesmiths. Helf could not handle the sudden demand for the Cobb/Yellen tune, so All Aboard for Dixie Land and some others from the show were sold to the dominant firm of Jerome H. Remick for around $2,500. The song became a greater hit 1914. The play, however, barely made it into the spring. Ironically it was silent film that saved the play and made the song an even bigger hit. The decision to include two of the song numbers, albeit without sound, in a Mabel Normand film titled Our Mutual Girl, benefitted both the play and composers, and by April it was back on track. Everybody involved with the show, including the composers, made out very well in the end. Miss Murray continued to favor Cobb and Yellen pieces for some time.  Another major Dixie song, Are You From Dixie?, became an early Al Jolson hit. It has since been frequently quoted in movies and for many years, thanks to composer Carl Stalling, had a heavy presence in Warner Brothers cartoons. One of their biggest successes was the now ubiquitous Alabama Jubilee, still a favorite of ragtime pianists and banjo players everywhere. The cover once again featured Murray, and was a blessing for her. After a contentious battle concerning issues with High Jinks she was enjoined from performing All Aboard for Dixie Land in public. Alabama Jubilee became an enormous hit for her and the composers in the fall of 1915. Yellen's down-home lyrics certainly contributed to the popularity of these songs, as they fit to Cobb's melodies so well. From that point on many of the pair's collective works became million-sellers in both printed and recorded form.Noting that Cobb was submitting his works to many different New York firms, and even to Will Rossiter in Chicago who had taken on his hit Just For To-Night, Jacobs finally thought to offer Cobb steady work as a staff arranger, which George soon accepted. As announced in The Music Trade Review of September 30, 1916, "Walter Jacobs, whose establishment in Bosworth street, Boston, is a busy hive of industry, has now associated with him two able men who will prove without doubt of the most valuable assistance in his work. One of these is George L. Cobb, of Buffalo, who is widely known as a composer, and, who besides writing popular compositions, will do more or less traveling. Mr. Cobb is best known for his song, 'Are You from Dixie?' which is having an enormous vogue. Another of the Dixie numbers is entitled 'See Dixie First,' and this is being put out by Jacobs." (The other staff member mentioned was the largely unknown banjoist C.V. Butterman.) However, to Jacob's regret, he did not specify exclusivity as a composer for the firm in Cobb's contract, so his employee was free to shop around for the best deal for his songs and instrumentals. Cobb pieces still appeared under the Rossiter imprint as well. Cobb moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts in late 1916 to facilitate this new position, bringing his parents with him. On November 20, 1916 he married his second wife, Mary Belle Barr, formerly of Buffalo and also Saxton, Pennsylvania, in Boston. As reported in The Music Trade Review of December 9, 1916: "The ceremony was performed at the parsonage of the Union Congregational Church by Rev. Ernest G. Guthrie, the pastor. Mr. Cobb and his wife are making their home in Allston, and will be at home to their friends after January 1." One hit that Jacobs was able to get his hands on was the 1917 patriotic war booster song The Battle Song of Liberty by Cobb and Yellen. Cleverly adapted from F.E. Bigelow's famous march Our Director, it was one of many tunes that managed a swell of popularity until George M. Cohan's Over There swept the world. He also spent some time traveling in 1916 promoting his employer, with sightings in Chicago and Michigan. While still selling his tunes to Jacobs and other publishers, George was assigned to write for the Jacobs' company newest music trade magazine, The Tuneful Yankee.  He held this post for a few years starting in January of 1917. Cobb's role there was as a music critic or commentator on compositions submitted by amateurs, which he handled quite deftly, but also with brutal honesty at times. In 1918 the magazine was recast as Melody, and his column was called "Just Between You and Me," which ironically was often a not-so-private venue for the occasional evisceration of amateur composers. If he thought something submitted to the magazine for analysis was tripe, he had little trouble saying so.Many of Cobb's later compositions also appeared only in the magazine, and not as separate sheet music publications. There is speculation that pieces attributed to other composers might be by Cobb, with Leo Gordon being his primary pseudonym, and that some of the compositions from this time were simply not at the same level as his more notable sheet music pieces because of the rigors of contribution and editing deadlines. Even though he worked for Jacobs during the teens and later, Cobb still published where he could get the best deals and distribution. One of his overall biggest successes, and personal favorites, was his Russian Rag, based on Sergei Rachmaninoff's famous C# minor prelude, released by Will Rossiter of Chicago. The esteemed contemporary classical composer was reportedly nonplussed by this adaptation, but it did provide him good exposure. Russian Rag was first featured in Chicago at the Majestic Theater by Mademoiselle Rhea who was a costume dancer in Vaudeville. Even though she was featured on some of the covers of the piece as well, her endorsement was less viable, based on reviews of her act. One reviewer noted that her accompanying violinist and pianist were only average which detracted from her dancing ability. So there was a slow start for sales of Russian Rag until 1919 when it was recorded and endorsed by the famous Six Brown Brothers ragtime saxophone sextet. They were also shown on the cover of subsequent editions of the piece. As quoted below, the group's leader said that Rachmaninoff actually enjoyed their rendition. The rag ultimately became so popular that a few years later it was re-written as The New Russian Rag to reflect Cobb's more advanced Novelty Ragtime compositional style. Another 1918 piece of Cobb's that the Brown Brothers recorded created a stir in music circles in the United State,s and almost caused an international incident. Among those American critics was dissenter Gregor M. Mazer who in the September 1920 issue Melody magazine said: "[It is] disgraceful... the way beautiful music is being converted into vulgar, impossible jazz... When Grieg’s immortal 'Peer Gynt' is printed on a program 'Peter Gink' it is time for all music lovers to rebel against this outrageous profanity." Further criticism came from Grieg's homeland as reported in the November 24, 1920 New York Tribune:  Norway in particular and Scandinavian music lovers in general, are shocked to find that Edvard Hagerup Grieg's famous "Peer Gynt Suite" has been jazzed and is being circulated in its corrupted form on phonograph records. Representatives of high Norwegian culture, who have a sympathetic feeling for Grieg's austere compositions, have forwarded to the government authorities at Washington a memorial protesting against "such a desecration of genius."Composers, singers and conductors in New York who expressed their views yesterday are inclined to think that Norway is right. Tom Brown, however, who transformed Shubert's "Serenade" and Rachmannioff's "Prelude" [Cobb's Russian Rag] into the raggiest of rags and whose company played the jazzed "Suite" for records, has a different opinion. "Sergei Rachmaninoff heard us play the adaptation of his work." he said, "and liked it, considering this a method of popularizing real music. We play such adaptations to attract attention and we find that the public takes to adaptations better because familiar melodies appeal. That's reason enough." Mme. Marie Sundelius, Enrico Caruso and Albert Spalding, an American violinist, were of the opinion that Norway has just cause for indignation. Norway, it seems, learned of the desecration when an assortment of American talking machine records reached that country recently. One record, entitled "Peter Gink." composed by George L. Cobb and played by the Six Brown Brothers, was heard by Norwegian music lovers. Shocked beyond words, they began preparation of the memorial and it was forwarded with haste to Washington. Mme. Sundelius, soloist of the Metropolitan Opera Company, said that she had been reading of the "sacrilege" in Swedish papers. "A composer does not like people to use his melodies in that way," she said, "and it was not a nice thing to make ragtime out of Grieg. Surely there is enough popular music to adapt without going to the classics." Caruso, whose voice is recorded by the company which first put out the Grieg ragtime, said: "There ought to be a law against it. It is a shame." "An awful shame, outrageous." was the comment of Mischa Levitski, the pianist. Arthur Bodanzky, conductor of the National Symphony Orchestra and also with the Metropolitan Opera Company, said he had no objection to jazz, but the jazz makers should at least be original about it and have enough invention to get along without robbing the classics. Mr. Spalding, as an American violinist, expressed the opinion that the public, interested in good music, and also those jealous of the country's good name as to culture, should see to it that good music is not twisted into ragtime. "There is an element of interest in ragtime," he said, "from a rhythmic standpoint, but certainly our fine melodies should not be dished out in that form. There should be legislation to prevent it." It appears that Cobb, who surprisingly seems to have received very little blame, most certainly got away with the outrage, and since plagiarism was not at issue, no Federal laws were passed against such parodies.
 He followed Peter Gink by editing and publishing The Blacksmith Rag, a parody on the Anvil Chorus from Giuseppe Verdi's Il Trovatore, and a clever take on the Toreador Song from Georges Bizet's opera Carmen.As of the 1920 Census, George was living in Cambridge, Massachusetts, with his wife and mother, with his father Linus listed as the head of the household. George was listed as a musical composer with his "own company," although the nature of that assertion is unclear. Linus was listed as a broker with his own office. Cobb continued his acerbic writings in Melody. Throughout the 1920s he also composed a number of great novelties both within and separate from Melody, such as Piano Salad, Snuggle Pup and Chromatic Capers. Given that only Cobb and British-born composer Richard E. Hildreth were permanent members of Jacobs' writing staff, it is likely that many of the pieces released in Melody and even as separate sheets were composed by one of them under a variety of pseudonyms. However, pinpointing which of these were used by Cobb would be a daunting forensic task, so other than the Leo Gordon pieces they are not included in his song list. He also advertised from time to time as a free-lance creator of melodies composed for lyrics, using his home address as this was evidently a moonlighting operation. Linus Cobb died in Boston on January 24, 1925, and was buried in Mexico, New York. At some point in the late 1920s Cobb divorced Mary and moved to Somerville, then in the 1930s to Brookline, both suburbs of Boston, Massachusetts. The 1930 Census shows him as divorced and working as a publishing salesman, as he seems to have mostly retired from music composition by this time. It also shows that he his mother Jeannette was still living with him. From that point on little is known of his life in retirement. Cobb's 1942 draft registration, perhaps the final official document of his life, has him still in Brookline, working for the Chamber of Commerce, with his "person who will always know you" reference being one Evelyn F. Eaton (b.1894) in nearby Cambridge. We do not know the nature of their relationship. His final composition, written after an absence of more than a decade, appeared in 1942, the year he joined ASCAP. Spending his last days in a convalescent home in Brookline, Massachusetts, George Linus Cobb died of coronary thrombosis complicated by a duodenal ulcer at age 56 on Christmas Day 1942 [December 27 has also been cited]. Curiously, his first wife Claire is cited on his death certificate, which does show him as divorced. His gravesite is in his home town of Mexico, New York. The instrumental compositions of George L. Cobb, which span over two decades, have generally been put into three categories of development. His earliest pieces are thought to be in the Popular vein, which was in part written as something for the sake of getting sold, although with a bit more aplomb in Cobb's case. By the mid 1910s he was getting much more adventurous and clever, so given the chord changes he was using and the complex trios, the rags and intermezzos from this period fall into the advanced ragtime category. Finally, he had little trouble adapting to the novelty style invented or adopted by many of his younger peers. While his novelty works never sold in large numbers, they were still very worthy entries into the collective. The strength of his many songs lies in memorably simple melodies with chord progressions that enhanced, but did not get in the way of those melodies. Many thanks to Canadian Ragtime historian Ted Tjaden who provided some of the information here to supplement my research, as well as rediscovery of many of the previously unknown Cobb pieces. Visit his site at www.ragtimepiano.ca. | ||||||
This was a tricky biography to research because there were no less than three musical Charles Cohens in the same general geographic area. With a little extra guidance and help from researcher Keith Emmons of hulapages.com, the author has settled on one, but will discuss the other two briefly and what they composed, or potentially composed. This is an unusual biography entry, but given that second and third Cohens both made contributions to music during the ragtime era their stories should be told. The first target is Arthur Charles Cohen in Philadelphia born in Germany in 1875 and immigrated to the United States in 1892. He was a piano teacher and self-employed musician throughout his life. That there was little ragtime published in Philadelphia would suggest the possibility that this Cohen, who could have used his middle name to avoid being confused with Arthur M. Cohen of Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania, might have published primarily with Vandersloot Music Publishing Company in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. However, after information uncovered on two other Cohens and the presence of a couple of popular pieces published in Cleveland, Ohio, it seems likely, in the author's estimation that this Cohen was potentially responsible only for a series of five pieces released between 1932 and 1936 attributed to a Charles Cohen. There is some possibility that that it was also the second Charles Cohen discussed below. These were five songs composed to known stories or lyrics, somewhat in the matter of Texas composer David Guion who had been resurrecting old American tunes in new arrangements. The last of the five, Rivets, was a contemporary look at American workers. All five were released as a set in New York in 1936. No further information was available on the Philadelphia Charles Cohen. The second Charles Cohen was born in rural Kansas to German (Prussian) immigrants Henry and Sarah Cohen. He was one of six children, four of which survived their childhood. Others include Lenah (c.1873), Ralph (c.1877), Mattie (c.1879 but deceased by 1900), and Hannah (c.1882). As of the 1880 Census, the family was living in Saint Marys, Kansas, in Pottawatomie County, northwest of Topeka, with Henry working as a retail merchant in dry goods. Now to the Charles Cohen who was responsible for some of the better known rags published in Pennsylvania in the 1910s. While the expectation might be that he, like the other two Cohens, was of European or Russian Jewish heritage, this is not the case. This Charles Cohen was a black composer, born in Georgia (he cites the town of Cuba which may be in error) in 1878. He was the youngest of what appeared to be a mixed family of whites, blacks and mulattos, likely dating back to the time of slavery. The family was found in Rome, Georgia in 1880, with all of the non-white members shown as servants in a house run by tobacco merchants. This includes his mother, Susan Cohen, and at least three potential siblings who were also listed as Black (Julius [1873], Lizzie [1870] and Jacob [1868]), and perhaps two more listed as Mulatto (Celia [1856] and Julia [1852]). While Susan shows as married no spouse was specified in 1880 Census. Charles cites his father as having been born in England (making him potentially a mulatto) in the 1900 Census, but all others cite South Carolina for his origin. Nothing definitive was found on his upbringing or musical training. However, many well-to-do families in the South at that time had a keyboard instrument of some kind in their home. At some point, Charles recieved some formal training in music as well as piano tuning and repair, as he would engage in both as a career later in life. Many thanks go to research Keith Emmons who helped to pinpoint the harder to find Cohen in Binghamton, the one who didn't initially pop to the top in the Census searches. Once his identity was made clear the rest of his story was easy to construct. The information on the first two Cohens was compiled entirely by the author. |
While the family is difficult to track over the next decade, by 1894 they had moved to Cleveland, Ohio, where Henry was listed in the directories as a tailor or finisher. Charles had received some formal piano training during this period, perhaps at the fine conservatory in Cleveland. In the 1899 directory he is listed as a music teacher, living with the family on 251 Sawtell Avenue. By the following year the family had moved to 5 Ledge Avenue, where Charles was now listed as a musician. The same was true in the 1900 Census, where he is shown to be a Musical Director, possibly in a theater or for a band.
While this would be unusual in many parts of the country then, there was a higher tolerance in the northeast for such living accommodations, something which would be tested by Cohen in years to come. It is likely that Charles was associated with two of the sons of his host, both musicians, including Ralph L. Carey, who was the same age as Cohen and his older brother George B. Carey.
Glover Compton is one of those frustrating ragtime figures who is often mentioned and was everywhere playing with everyone, yet little concrete information can be found directly about him. His narrative was also part of the core of the 1950 book They All Played Ragtime, including parts of the extensive interviews of Glover taken by authors Rudi Blesh and Harriet Janis. Yet even that left
holesracies in his story. This biography represents an attempt to fill in more than has often been seen on this beloved and often busy ragtime performer.
Glover's mother, Laura Compton, had her first child, Maud, at just 13 or 14 years old. She is listed in the 1880 Census in Bergin Knob, Kentucky, married to 22 year old farm laborer John Compton, and as 19 herself, with Maud as 1 year old. However, all subsequent records give her birth year as 1866 or 1867, so there may have been some obvious but understandable deception in this case. When she was around 17 to 18, Laura gave birth to Glover in Harrodsburg, Kentucky, about 50 miles north from Bergin Knob. The birth year is most consistently shown as 1884 on most documents, but on his draft record in 1918 it shows as 1883. His death record shows 1884, so that is the most consistent date. Laura is shown in Harrodsburg in 1900 working as a cook and as having been widowed. In that same Census, Glover is listed as a boot black, a common occupation for black teens at that time. They also had two lodgers in their home, possibly for income reasons. Note that while his name is often shown as J. Glover Compton, he was listed consistently as Glover Compton on Census records and travel manifests, and as Glover John Compton on his 1918 draft record. The origin of the J. Glover derivation of his name is unclear, but he may have originally been John Glover Compton after his father, having changed it by his teens. Compton's name first appears as a pianist/entertainer in Louisville, Kentucky around 1904. The best-known pianist in town was "Piano Price" Davis, who fostered Compton to some extent and hooked him up with occasional jobs, sometimes by simply not showing up to his own gigs in favor of gambling instead. One venue mentioned was Jimmy Boyd's Cafe at 10th and Walnut where he played upstairs for $10.50 a week. Compton also says he visited the fair in St. Louis in 1904, but did not play in any venues there. It was during a 1904 musical tour to Louisville that a slightly disgruntled Tony Jackson, tired of the road, first met Compton. The two soon became friends, performing for a time at the Cosmopolitan Club. They also wrote a song together, which remains unpublished, but Compton recorded it in his later years. That piece, The Clock of Time, was reportedly repurposed in 1922 by composer J. Berni Barbour as the salacious My Daddy Rocks Me (With One Steady Roll), the song which ultimately provided the name for the genre of Rock and Roll. Jackson eventually went back to New Orleans for the next couple of years. It wasn't long before Glover was well regarded for his playing skills and reliability. But he didn't stay put for very long, choosing the life of an itinerant pianist for the next several years. In 1906 he spent time in Chicago playing at Elite Number 1 on State Street, run by Art Cardozo and Teenan Jones. In spite of his travels, Glover remained based in Louisville, and is listed there in 1910 in both the Kentucky and Federal Census records with his mother Laura working as a laundress, and Glover as a dance hall musician. During his travels he spent time in Wyoming, Washington, New York and Chicago, the latter where he met up with one long-time partner and one partner from the past.  The long-time partner was singer Nettie Lewis who he married around 1911. Chicago became Compton's new home base, and he moved his mother Laura there as well. One of his most frequent haunts when he wasn't on the road was the Elite Club on South State Street, which also featured notable musicians like Jelly Roll Morton and Earl Hines during its 18 year life. The other partner was Tony Jackson, who had come to Chicago from New Orleans for good, and the two quickly got back together. They worked as a dual piano act from time to time over the next several years. Glover and Jackson exchanged many ideas as well, expanding the scope of how each of them played. Another occasional playing partner and friend was composer Shelton Brooks, who in 1916 dedicated his piece Walkin' the Dog to Compton and local actor Bud Joyner.In the mid 1910s wanderlust struck Compton again for a while. There is a story about Glover that comes from when he worked on the Barbary Coast in Northern California, as early as January of 1913 by his own reckoning. One of his favored venues there was the St. Francis club between Pacific and Broadway. According to West Coast pianist Sid Le Protti who he met there, Le Protti played one of his original tunes for Compton who quickly learned it. In 1915 Le Protti heard his tune played again, but this time it was named Canadian Capers. Evidently Compton had played it back in Chicago at the repeated request (with the lure of dollar tips) of pianist Henry Cohen, and Cohen collaborated with three of his friends to "compose" the piece Canadian Capers, which included Le Protti's melody in the B strain. At a later time when Le Protti asked Cohen about this, the latter pointed to Compton as the one who taught him the melody, and when asked if he could use it, Compton had no argument. Compton confirmed this story at some point as well. It is known that Compton was on the road in the latter part of the 1910s, but work in playing ragtime was not always available. He says he "palled around with Jelly Roll Morton" during the latter's visit to the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exposition San Francisco. Most of the local performers played at the Exposition because the Barbary Coast clubs were temporarily shut down during the event. Then he went back to Chicago for part of late 1916 through early 1917, playing with Nettie at the Panama Café until it was shut down. Another act playing there, the Panama Trio which included Florence Mills and Ada "Bricktop" Smith, helped forge a friendship with the latter that would later provide him a great European connection. From late 1917 to 1918 Glover and Nettie spent six months down in Los Angeles at the Waldorf Cafe while Jelly Roll played at the Cadillac.While they did perform along the Barbary Coast following that gig, Compton's September 1918 draft record shows him employed as a porter for the Southern Pacific Railroad, with the couple living in the Oakland/Alameda area.In 1919 they went up to Seattle, Washington for a while where he played at the Entertainer's Night Club on Main Street with a small combo. The Comptons are shown there as late as January of 1920 in the Census, sharing quarters with some of the other entertainers. Glover is listed as a "cabaret musician" and Nettie as a "cabaret actress." Curiously his birth state is listed there as Missouri, yet it is clearly the same person. Since the 1920 Census was not taken consistently at that same time across the country, they managed to show up in it again in February in Chicago, back with Laura, who was working as a cook, and now with Nettie's mother living there as well. It is also indicated that Glover owned his home, so it is probable Laura had been living in it while the couple had their adventures out west. With the jazz age in full swing in Chicago, Glover readily adapted his style, and was soon playing with musicians such as jazz and blues singer Alberta Hunter, clarinetist Jimmie Noone, and drummer Ollie Powers, both of the latter disciples of leading jazz performer Joseph "King" Oliver. For the next few years he would travel back and forth between Chicago and Seattle with small bands. Compton recorded a couple of energetic sides in 1923 with Ollie Powers' Harmony Syncopators later known as J. Glover Compton and the Syncopators. Glover's group performed for some time at the Oriental Café on South State Street, in the former location of their old haunt, the Panama Café. There he worked with both Ms. Hunter and Nettie. Another mentioned venue was the Dreamland Café where Oliver would join Compoton's band on
Compton settled in at a cafe started by Chicago expatriate, Ada "Bricktop" Smith who he had reconnect with. It was the famous Chez Bricktop in Paris. Ada had first invited Compton over to France in 1926 after her pianist was killed by his girlfriend in a dare situation that he finally lost. Glover played there with the existing group, The Palm Beach Six. Compton is described during this period as an early version of Willie "The Lion" Smith, a consummate entertainer, complete with the cigar hanging out of his mouth, the large repertoire, and his direct engagement with the audience. Another place he frequented was the Royal Box in Paris owned by Joe Zelli. While in Paris seemed to be good for Glover's career and finances, it did not help his status in the U.S. as many simply forgot who he was. But the French knew who he was, particularly after the famous shooting incident of December 20, 1928. Many of the transplanted musicians were gathered at Bricktop's early that morning when an argument broke out between Sidney Bechet and banjoist Gilbert McKendrick. The cause was evidently a dispute about chord changes of all things, which Bechet found offensive to his musical intellect. Another story had to do with who had failed to buy a round of drinks. Whatever the cause, Compton, who already had an ambiguous relationship with Bechet going back several years, evidently tried to intervene. As McKendrick emerged from the bar, Bechet, who had gone to fetch his firearm, started shooting. McKendrick was completely missed, but two witnesses were wounded, and Compton was shot in the leg. Both men got 15 months but served a year. Compton spent several months in the hospital, and says that Bechet and McKendrick had promised to pay his bill, but they were never able to. When released in 1929, Bechet found out that Compton was planning on suing him for compensation for the wound. Bechet quickly got word to Compton to watch out for his other leg, and the suit idea quickly evaporated. Even though Bechet and McKendrick became friends to some degree, Compton remained on Bechet's bad side from that point on. Fortunately for Glover, Bechet and McKendrick were asked to depart France permanently soon after their sentence was served. Compton continued to play at Bricktop's, eventually favoring a long-term gig at Harry's New York Bar owned by jockey Ted Sloane, also in Paris. Glover and his wife continued to cross the Atlantic into the late 1930s, with one final voyage documented in October of 1939. He came back to New York City this time, forced in part by the onset of war in Europe, playing in a jazz piano joint, reportedly the type where people are there to drink and talk, not to listen to music. Within a couple of years the Comptons returned to Chicago, and he reassociated himself with Noone for many years. Author Rudi Blesh found him there in 1949, and interviewed him at length for his upcoming book They All Played Ragtime, getting a wealth of information (although not entirely accurate) about various ragtime players in the Windy City. In the early 1950s he opened his own bar in Chicago, a place where he could have some control over the playing environment. It was here that he spent his last few years, and seems likely that it's where his 1956 taped interview set with archivist Birch Smith took place, Compton's only true recorded piano solos. Another artist that spent considerable time with Compton and befriended him was rising star Johnny Maddox from Gallatin, Tennessee. Johnny has a considerable number of memories and interesting stories about Compton from talking with him in Chicago. Glover Compton suffered a debilitating stroke in 1957, and finally succumbed in 1964 at age 80. We have only one piano rag - which may or may not actually be his (he claimed he wrote the music to Chris Smith's Honky-Tonky Monkey Rag) - and a handful of recordings to remember him by, but we also have great stories and his evident influence on some of his peers as part of the makeup of the collective of ragtime performance. Thanks to Adam Swanson who provided a couple of extra elements on Compton, and Australian historian Bill Egan who came up with more of his association with Ada Smith. Some of the narrative comes from They All Played Ragtime by Rudi Blesh and Harriet Janis, and from unpublished notes by Rudi Blesh, but the bulk was pieced together by the author from recordings and public and private archival records. | |||||||||||
Thomas R. Confare was born to carpenter George M. Confare and his wife Rosetta (Reach) Confare in Union, Iowa, just a short while after the Civil War had ended. He was the middle child of three, including his older sister Kate (1865) and younger brother John (1870). How much musical training Tom had while in school is uncertain. He was still in school as of 1880, but also working in a railroad office in Sabula, Iowa. George was now a wagon maker during a time of great expansion in the area. As of the 1885 Iowa Census he appears in the family business as a carpenter, just short of 18 years old. | ||||||||||
On May 8, 1892 Dorothy gave birth to Thomas Newell Confare. The couple had moved back to Chicago by 1895, where Confare's first published song appeared. In the 1900 Census Confare is shown living in Chicago with his wife and child, and is listed as a musician, albeit unemployed for two months at that time. So life was likely a bit hard, even in that bustling city.
This was mentioned in a Chicago Tribune notice of February 1, 1908, which painted an unfortunate picture of bad behavior by a married man. Evidently Confare had forced his intentions on Miss Agnes Lang, a cashier in Arnold Brothers, a State Street restaurant, and after a brief chase by the police was arrested and charged. A follow up on the disposition of this was not found. Then a strange item appeared in The Music Trade Review of November 28, 1908. "Thomas Confare, the well-known musician, who has been doing the arranging for Harry Newmann, western representative of Harry Von Tilzer, passed away suddenly on Thursday of this week at his home in this city [Chicago]." Reports of his demise were obviously quite exaggerated, but the cause of this mistake is unknown.
Cecil Duane Crabb, or "Cece" as some of his peers called him, was part of the Indianapolis group of young composer friends who contributed just a few but still significant pieces into the ragtime collective. He was the youngest of two sons born in Centerville, Indiana to James and Sarah E. Crabb. After several years of struggling to get by in Centerville, the family had moved westward to Indianapolis by 1900 where Cecil's older brother Earl, now 16, worked as a clerk in a phonograph store, and their father was a real estate agent. By the age of 18 he was evidently not living with his parents in Indianapolis. After a roller skating accident Cece was taken in for a time by Mr. E.D. Staley and his wife. The Staleys discovered in short order his propensity for both piano and graphic arts. In an effort to provide stability and a positive direction for Crabb, Mr. Staley set him up in a sign making shop, producing outdoor and on door signs for businesses. During this time he befriended May Aufderheide, fresh from finishing school, and quickly helped her to get her Dusty Rag into print, something she was trying to do over her father's objections. Another new acquaintance, composer Paul Pratt, arranged the piece and Cecil did the cover art. It was the only piece published by the Duane Crabb Publishing Company. Because of May's determination to have her work in print, her father, John Henry Aufderheide, admired the efforts of the teenaged trio to the point where he started J.H. Aufderheide & Company just to publish their works, and Cece was also rewarded for his efforts in helping her. |
The first of these was Fluffy Ruffles, one of a number of ragtime era pieces with this name. He had composed it in 1907 and another Indianapolis composer, Will Morrison, helped him publish it. It was quickly picked up by J.H. Aufderheide for his new company, but was preceded by Crabb's latest rag in 1909, Orinoco. That same year Cecil co-wrote the piece Trouble with Morrison. He also contributed artwork for some of the Aufderheide rags, including Candle-Stick by Abe Olman and A Totally Different Rag by May. Pratt, who like Cecil was not yet 20, was hired as the manager and arranger for the Aufderheide company, as shown in the 1910 Census. By then, Crabb was once again living with his parents, his occupation listed as sign painter, music being a sideline to work which brought needed income in. Pratt later recalled that even though there has been no historical confirmation of contracts for those published by Aufderheide, he received a 1.5 cent per copy royalty for this piece, so the same was likely true for Cecil. This would also include his Klassicle Rag, perhaps a nod or even a swipe at the genre of "Classic Ragtime" which was fairly well known by 1911.
Dabney was a naturally talented musician who was born and raised in Washington D.C. His parents were James Dabney, a black Virginia-born undertaker, and his mulatto wife Laura Dabney. He had one older brother, Edward, born in 1879. Tracing what happened to Laura Dabney in the 1890s is still in progress. However, James remarried to Ruby H. Dabney in 1895. Dabney had employed a servant as early as 1880, and the Dabneys owned their own home at 1132 Third Street NW as of 1900, which indicated that they were fairly well off for a black family of that time. James evidently also did some work as a barber, as some newspaper mentions referred to him as a "tonsorial artist." While in this country on a mission from his government Mr. Jefford heard Dabney play in New York, and was so impressed with the young pianist's work that he ventured the belief the President of Haiti would like to hear him play. Dabney expressed a desire to play for the President if it could be arranged, and his engagement for four months followed. At the expiration of that time young Dabney will go to France to play for President Loubet, and will then go to Germany to complete his musical studies. He contemplates a concert career. Ford Dabney is twenty years old and graduated from the Washington High School in the class of 1901. He is a son of J.W. Dabney, of 1006 F Street northwest, who was the late President McKinley's barber and President Roosevelt's until a few months ago. While attending school in Washington Ford Dabney studied music with Charles Donch, William Waldecker, and S.M. Fabian, the latter a noted concert pianist. Later the young man went to New York, where for the past year he has been a student at one of the conservatories. He has filled many drawing room engagements for the prominent society leaders of the metropolis. The Haitian consul, who is acting as sponsor for the young man, is said to have promised him $1,000 when he goes to France. Ford was shown returning from his extended travels to the United States through New York from St. Marc on the Prinz Friedrich Wilhelm on May 18, 1906. On his return to D.C. Ford traveled a bit in vaudeville, and even had an act titled Ford Dabney's Ginger Girls. He officially went into show business around 1909 as the co-owner of the Ford Dabney Theater located at Ninth and U Street in Northwest Washington. It was advertised as the home of "first class and polite vaudeville - the theatre the people attend."  As motion pictures came into vogue Dabney made sure there was a new one shown every evening. Dabney's theater continued to operate in his name under the management of his partner James H. Hudnell through at least 1912, even after he was established in New York City. In the late summer of 1910 Dabney attempted to buy the nearby Howard Theater as well, but pulled back as he had "other big plans in view."Following this venture Dabney went to New York in 1910 to pursue a career in composition and performance. There is a likely probability that he engaged in an alternate career as well. In what is most certainly his listing in the 1910 Census, Dabney (as Thompson) is shown in Manhattan as a self-employed pharmacist. (The age, birth location and parent's birth locations match, so this fairly well confirms that it is indeed the same Ford Dabney.) It is possible that he learned this skill in technical school in DC or from one of his father's associates, and was applying it to earn some income until more music work started coming in. It is also more probable that the enumerator simply did not understand what was told to him. Dabney was still the proprietor of his theater in Washington, and added a second venue, The Red Moon on M Street, in 1911. He divided his time between the two cities until around 1914. As early as 1910 Dabney did well enough to publish a few interesting piano rags, starting with the popular Haytian Rag, and in including Oh You Devil and Oh You Angel. Haytian Rag in particular quickly found itself onto at least two different piano roll renditions before the year was out. However, he first gained real fame as a vaudeville performer and writer with his initial hit, a song he co-wrote with New York composer R.C. McPherson (aka Cecil Mack), That's Why They Call Me Shine. It was reportedly based on a real person they both knew who went by that nickname. This wildly popular song opened more doors for him and he was soon one of the elite of black New York musicians. Still living part-time in two cities, Ford returned to Washington for a time to marry widow Martha J. (Davis) (Gans) Dabney of Baltimore, Maryland, in March 1912. It was her second marriage following the death of her husband professional boxer Joseph Gans. Martha operated the Goldfield Hotel in Baltimore, and they resided there when Ford was in town. Joe built it with his winnings from a bout with Battling Nelson in Goldfield, Nevada. It was advertised that the Goldfield was equipped with every modern innovation, with exquisite furnishings and a telephone in every room. Martha continued to run the hotel while Ford bounced back and forth between the Washington/Baltimore area and Manhattan. Back in New York, Dabney quickly became friends with famed bandleader and composer James Reese Europe. They both played for famed showman Florenz Ziegfeld in his secondary show, Ziegfeld's Midnight Frolic, staged on the roof of the New Amsterdam Theater in Manhattan. Dabney was an integral member of Europe's famous Clef Club which was made up of only the finest black musicians in the east. A band for any occasion could quickly be formed from its formidable membership. It was, in fact, Dabney who introduced blues composer W.C. Handy to the Clef Club and Europe, with whom he became fast friends.  Ford also formed his own organization when he permanently settled in the New York in 1913. By 1914, Europe had left the Clef Club to form The Tempo Club and Europe's Society Orchestra, and Dabney soon joined him. He had also been coordinating and working performances and benefits at Ford's Grand Opera House in Baltimore since 1912.Among the best of Dabney's pieces were a set of eight that were co-composed with Europe specifically for the famed husband and wife dance time of Vernon and Irene Castle. The Castles found Europe's Society Orchestra among the best they had worked with, and hired Europe as their band leader and Dabney as their arranger. One of these pieces, the Castle Half and Half, was written in 3/4+2/4, or actually 5/4 time, over 4 decades before that time signature would become popular through the efforts of Dave Brubeck and Paul Desmond. All of these were issued within a two month period in 1914, an extraordinary output for the quality of work the two invested into the project. Soon after this, Europe left the Tempo Club and Dabney took on some of his responsibilities until he formed his own orchestra, which was essentially from the remainders of The Tempo Club. In 1915 he released his final rag, actually a slow dance tune named The Georgia Grind. The grind in question and the music that accompanied it were not the same as the "dirty dancing" move of the 1950s, but a slow dance intended to give couples a bit of a rest while remaining on the dance floor. The tune had great success on piano rolls. Dabney's orchestra had the opportunity to introduce many great songs of the late 1910s to the world by way of records. This also made him one of the earliest black pianists to record. He is shown on his 1917 draft card as employed by Florenz Ziegfeld, presenter of the famed Ziegfeld Follies in the New Amsterdam Theater. His role was as both pianist, arranger and director for the The Ziegfeld Midnight Frolics, a position that lasted for eight years. Likely due to his workload, there appear to be no published compositions from this period. Martha Dabney gave up her hotel in early 1915 to move to New York City with Ford. She gave birth to Ford Dabney Jr. in mid 1917. Since Ford Jr. was born in Washington D.C., it indicates that he still had ties with his home town, as this may have occurred during a family visit to the area. From 1917 to early 1920, Dabney's Band cut a number of sides for the Aeolian Company's Vocalion line. The progression of dates indicates that Ford was not drafted to fight in the war like his former partner Jim Europe had been. The recordings show less inspiration and excitement than Reese's recordings of a couple of years prior, but they were still fine examples of late ragtime era dance band performances.  They also recorded a few sides as the accompaniment band for white singers Arthur Fields and the inimitable Billy Murray. After one early 1920 session the band simply recorded no more, even as they continued to perform live. A regrouped ensemble called Ford Dabney's Syncopators did two sides in 1922.The Dabney family is shown in Manhattan in the 1920 Census with Ford listed as a theater musician. There are some indications that Dabney also dabbled in real-estate investment following the war as there are several transactions shown in the New York Times during the 1920s. In August 1921 he sold off two three-story dwellings at 231 and 235 West 138th Street. In May 1921 he purchased a large five-story flat at 75 West 128th Street, and in July, a three story dwelling at 163 West 131st Street. Yet another purchase was reported in December 1922, a five-story tenement building at 807 West 146th Street facing Colonial Park. Similar notices appear in New York real-estate transactions through the early 1930s. After the unfortunate death of his friend and musical partner Europe at the hands of one of Europe's own drummers in May of 1919, and that of Vernon Castle in a training plane accident in Texas, some of Dabney's arranging spark seemed to dissipate, as is demonstrated in subsequent recordings of his orchestra. Innovations that had existed in earlier tracks, including variances applied to repeated sections, all but disappeared from 1919 on. The demand for his band steadily waned through the mid 1920s as Ford did not embrace jazz with the same vigor as younger bandleaders. His perennial gig with Ziegfeld became less steady when the Dabney band was replaced by Art Hickman's Orchestra for the 1920-1921 season. Dabney was retained for some rooftop shows and special events, however. One example of the type of events the band played outside of their Ziegfeld show was an August 1922 fashion show held at the 71st Regiment Armory and Grand Central Palace. This was actually a fairly prestigious event as according to the New York Times of August 7, 1922, "Ford Dabney's orchestra from Ziefgeld's Follies will furnish continuous music, while a special arrangement has been made with Florenz Ziegfeld whereby Sergei Pirnikoff, heading a company of artists, will put on the Lestwich ballet 'Le Sacrifice.'" Still, it was a step removed from playing for the Society 400. Ford even briefly opened his own entertainment bureau in 1923, but other pressing demands made it difficult to maintain on a full time basis. Dabney remained in New York City until his death remaining mildly active with the music community from the 1930s on. In 1927 he contributed some music to the Broadway musical Rang-Tang, including the title tune, getting some notice in the New York papers for his efforts. Dabney appears in the 1930 Census with his family, still in Manhattan, as an orchestra musician. One of his steadier gigs was at the Palais Royale in Atlantic City during peak season times. Branching out a little bit, he co-wrote one song for the film The Social Register in 1934. Dabney was finally able to join ASCAP in 1937, more than two decades after it was founded. He and his orchestra wintered in Florida during the late 1930s, as there are several notices in the Palm Beach Daily News and some Miami papers concerning gigs and house parties from 1935 to 1939. Ford was still working in some capacity in the 1940s, as his 1942 draft record indicates him simply as self-employed, living at the same Manhattan address seen previously. By this time, his memory and musical skills were occasionally called upon by historians. He was a consultant for the 1943 all-black film Stormy Weather which chronicled black musicians of New York, including his contemporaries Europe and Handy, through the first decades of the 20th century. That same year, Ford Dabney Jr. enlisted into the military, his record showing that he had achieved a degree from a four-year college (NYU). The aging musician and composer finally retired fully by the late 1940s. Ford Dabney passed away at Sydenham Hospital at 75 in New York City in 1958 after a long illness. Martha Dabney died in December 1961 at the Rest Haven Nursing Home in the Bronx. | ||||||||||
He went out for a two week's jaunt, but so great was the demand for dates that he remained in the section two months. Upon his next tour he will be accompanied by Mr. Ford Dabney, an accomplished pianist." That tour extended from July through mid September 1902.
Charles Neil Daniels, born in Leavenworth, Kansas, to jeweler Alfred E. Daniels and Agnes E. Daniels. He was one of two surviving children of the couple, including Bessie (8/1884). Another sister, Mamie (1879), died during childhood. Charles actually spent most of his youth in St. Joseph, Missouri, and the family was found there by the time of the 1880 Census. That record shows Charles as three-years-old, so there is a possibility he was born in 1877.
Alfred moved the family to Kansas City, Missouri when Charles was 15, and entered the lucrative field of real-estate. There his son studied a panoply of musical disciplines,  including piano, music theory, and musical calligraphy (a viable skill for prospective typesetters and arrangers). Charles also studied harmony and theory with Carl Preyer in Kansas City. Among his first positions were various gigs as a pianist in department stores, an accompanist at the Kronberg Concert Company, and demonstrator for the Carl Hoffman publishing house, which gave him his first break. They also published one of his first works, Imperial Courier Two-Step.It was while working for Hoffman, in response to a competition, that Daniels composed his second published piece, a two-step called Margery. It won the $25 prize, and soon the attention of no less than bandleader John Philip Sousa, who put it in his repertoire and created a quick demand for it. Even though sales for Margery were brisk, going as high as 275,000 within a few years, Daniels saw nothing of it since the prize money also constituted ownership of the piece by Hoffman. Pressing onward, Charles composed the music for an even bigger hit the following year, You Tell Me Your Dream, I'll Tell You Mine, which soon became a standard in the American Song Book, but also caused a further rift with Hoffman who refused to offer royalties on this piece as well. In December 1898 Daniels utilized his position to help another young composer, Scott Joplin, and arranged to have a rag of his published, the first one of many for Joplin. Titled Original Rags, the cover cites that it was "arranged" by Daniels. However, according to family history passed down to from his son to Charles' grand niece, Nan Bostick, Daniels did nothing more to the piece than help transcribe and typeset it directly from Joplin's performance of it, and apply his newly-famous name to it to help with sales in markets where he was known. Original Rags would be eclipsed by Maple Leaf Rag in short order, but it remained in print with Daniel's name on the cover for many years. Bolstered with confidence, Charles next turned to writing an opera. In reality, it was a burlesque opera for a fireman's benefit, composed with St. Clair Hurd. It turned into an ambitious affair, complete with large choruses and the burning of a local building. The pending event was noted in the Kansas City Journal of November 9, 1899:  A burlesque entertainment will be given for the benefit of the firemen's Paris fund at Convention hall December 13 and 14. Last night at Music hall the first steps were taken to incorporate the company that will furnish the entertainment. A full chorus of bass and tenor singers was secured together with a number of minor performers in an opera written by Charles N. Daniels and St. Clair Hurd...The opera, which will really be a burlesque on an opera, to be presented has been prepared by Charles N. Daniels and St. Clair Hurd, and will picture a scene in Madrid and representing the victorious Kansas City firemen returning from Paris, where they had won many prizes... Two days later in the November 11, 1899 edition, and years before the celebrated Nordstrom Department Store started using pianists for atmosphere, there was an advertisement stating that "Mr. Charles N. Daniels is entertaining our [Doggett Dry Goods Company] customers in the Music Department. Be sure and hear him play 'The Bands of the Nation' march. Mr. Daniels uses the celebrated Crown piano." He was, of course, actually filling the role of a musical schiller and not so much of an entertainer. Music departments with song demonstrators were just starting to come into their own in many Midwest department stores. Daniels would not remain in this mode for long, however.
It may have been from the experience with Original Rags, plus the music scene in Kansas City, that Daniels caught the ragtime bug to some extent. Dissatisfied with the treatment he received from Hoffman, Charles formed the Western Music Publishing Company to release the tune on his own. This later became Daniels & Russell when another Hoffman refugee, Albert Russell, threw his hat in with Daniels. The 1900 Census shows Charles living with his parents and sister in Kansas City, Missouri, and listed as a music publisher. Charles and Albert headed for St. Louis around 1901 in anticipation of the coming Lewis and Clark Exposition/World's Fair, and reformed as Daniels, Russell & Boone with offices in the Benoist Building in that city, also working as music demonstrators at the Barr Dry Goods Company. It was in late 1901 that by happenstance Daniels inadvertently created a new sub-genre of popular music. On a trip from Kansas City to Hiawatha, Kansas, he focused on the rhythm of the train wheels against the track joints, and came up with an intermezzo melody that he named after the destination, which itself was named for the Native American hero from the famous Longfellow poem Hiawatha. Originally subtitled A Summer Idyl (tone poem), this was also picked up by the Sousa, now his friend. Sousa's exposure of the piece resulted in a sale of his catalog to Jerome H. Remick for the extraordinary sum of $10,000, just so Remick could obtain Hiawatha, such was the public's response to it.
One of the ironies is that Daniels brought Hiawatha out using a pseudonym, Neil Morét, which was derived in part from his middle name. Given the exposure of that name through his early hits, Daniels ended up using it more than his own name throughout his career, more so than any of his contemporaries who also used pseudonyms. He also used L'Albert on a few pieces, and infrequently attributed his own lyrics to Sidney Carter for variety. Charles followed Hiawatha in 1905 with an intentional Indian intermezzo and song titled Silverheels. He also started composing a number of Mexican or Spanish-tinged pieces, forecasting another craze among composers and the musical consumer. One of his mood intermezzos, Moonlight, was so appealing to Remick that he bought it from Charlie's firm for $20,000, double what was paid for Hiawatha and the earlier catalog. Under his own name he had the privilege of contributing the only "official" music composition of the 1904 St. Louis Louis and Clark Exhibition, a march titled A Deed of the Pen, which referred to the signing of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. Daniels traveled for Remick for some time, setting up music departments in stores around the East. While many towns had their own music shops, department stores in particular prided themselves on having a music department with a piaist demonstrator. Daniels took that one step further using new technology. One such description of his methods was found in the Music Trade Review of October 29, 1904: "The new music department inaugurated by the R. H. White Co., Boston, Mass., is under the management of Charles N. Daniels (Neil Moret) the composer of 'Hiawatha,' 'Moonlight' and the new song, 'Poppies.' Mr. Daniels has inaugurated many ideas of his own for the display of sheet music and is using the phonograph as an effective demonstrator." While people like Daniels "managed" these departments, it was usually on a rotating long-distance basis, making sure that the products for his company were properly represented through occasional visits or other supervision. In 1904, it was announced that: "Albert H. Russell, of Detroit, has assigned all his interest in the music firm of Daniels & Russell, Wetherbee building, to his partner, Charles N. Daniels, and the latter has assigned it to Shapiro, Remick & Co., including all copyright music, plates and manuscript." It was not a permanent exit from the publishing business by any means. He had his eye elsewhere. In late 1904 Charles met Pearl Hamlin of St. Louis, Missouri, and they were soon engaged. Their friends turned out to be very surprised when Pearl went to visit Charles in Louisville, Kentucky in January 1906 and came back as his wife.  While working in Detroit in 1906 for Remick and Whitney Warner, and still writing for his own firm as well under the pseudonym of L'Albert (as in partner Albert Russell), Charlie opened a subsidiary shop in the old Barr's firm, now the Grand Leader Department Store, where future composer Irene Giblin worked as a demonstrator. Daniels acquired Dill Pickles from Hoffman, a rag composed by his friend Charles L. Johnson. It has been stated that the two Charlies may have extended the ragtime craze by as much as a decade with this single tune, because Johnson set a standard for easy to play rags that appealed to the average pianist, and Daniels promoted it well in markets nationwide, which included getting it played and recorded by many bands. His efforts helped make Remick one of the largest publishers of both piano rags and popular ragtime songs, and Daniels was perhaps as much a proponent of piano rags as classic ragtime magnate John Stark, one of it's biggest champions.Two other pieces he picked up from Hoffman included Johnson's Iola, again named for a town in Kansas and not a particular Indian (although O'Dea also added lyrics to this one as well), and Peaceful Henry by Hoffman arranger E. Harry Kelly. These made plenty for Remick and their composers, but not so much for Hoffman, who may have been regretting his earlier fiscal treatment of Daniels by this time. It probably didn't help that the Kansas City branch of Daniels' company settled in right next door to Hoffman's office! While promoting ragtime heavily during this period, Charles wrote very few of his own pieces that were touted as rags, rather releasing them as intermezzos or similar genre titles. He was also concentrating on the more lucrative song business, eventually hooking up with lyricist Earle C. Jones who helped create even more best-sellers for Daniels, or more properly, Morét. Charles' enthusiasm for making good music and the benefits that could be had from interpolation into popular music forms was made clear in an October 1910 article in The Music Trade Review: Mr. Daniels is convinced that the popular taste is improving. Some of the means by which this desired end is being achieved may be such as to make the musically judicious grieve, but are none the less effective, he declares. '"The popular songs introducing strains of classical compositions are actually having the effect of creating the desire to know more of the music suggested," said he. "Thousands of people know the Mendelssohn 'Spring Song' to-day who had never heard it or heard of it before. Last year our house published 'That Loving Melody Rubinstein Wrote,' and I know it to be a fact that Rubinstein's 'Melody in F' came into great demand in Detroit as a consequence. People went into the music stores and asked what the 'Loving Melody' was and bought it. Of course, this is one factor working toward the creation of a taste for gcod music. Why, the other day in Detroit a vaudeville singer won tremendous applause from the gallery with an aria from 'Rigoletto.' Now, all this means that the people want good music. It doesn't mean that there will soon be no market except for the productions of long-dead composers, but it does mean a gradual raising of the standard all along the line."
By late 1913, his primary lyricist partner, Earle Jones, had died at 35 of typhoid. Charles' young daughter had long been suffering from diabetes (misdiagnosed as lung disease), and hoping to save her life he gave up his position with Remick and relocated to a climate that was recommended as more conducive to her health, that of the desert around San Bernardino, California. Sadly, his daughter died of her ailment in 1915. However, by this time, he had started again on his own as a publisher, first founding his own self-named firm, then partnering with a younger graduate of Stanford University, Weston Wilson, to form Daniels & Wilson.
 Daniels also imported lyricist Harry William from Remick, and they continued to turn out hits in California. His reputation got him a turn at composing a title tune for a 1918 Mack Sennett film starring one of Hollywood's more popular actresses, Mabel Normand. Mickey worked well as a two-way promotion for both the film and the song, garnering Daniels and Williams a good-sized wartime hit. Many historians consider it the earliest popular song directly associated with a film title, and it did very well after being picked up by Waterson, Snyder and Berlin in New York. The following year Daniels and Williams turned out another nationwide hit, Peggy. However, the lucky streak was not to last. His young partner Wilson joined the military for the war, never to return to the firm but later to get into the oil business, which left Charles to run the company by himself. Then in 1922 Harry Williams died while visiting Daniels, sadly ending another successful partnership.Daniels regrouped after these tragedies and worked for a time as a west-coast arranger for Waterson, Snyder and Berlin, but after getting back on his feet he founded the San Francisco firm of Villa Morét (House of Morét) in 1924. Now living across the Bay in Oakland, he partnered with bandleader Ben Black to compose one of Villa Morét's first issues. Adorned by a beautiful cover, it was a fox-trot version of organist Edwin Lemare's andantino Moonlight and Roses, which became a dance band hit in short order. This was the beginning of several years of big hits turned out by the successful firm, including some penned with now-famous lyricists Richard Whiting and Gus Kahn. The most famous of these pieces by Morét and Kahn was Chlo-E - Song of the Swamp of 1927, which featured a plaintive cry to the titled lady. Some will remember the famous parody of this work in the late 1940s by Spike Jones and his City Slickers, but it received serious attention at this time, and put him once again on a par with many contemporary East Coast composers like Duke Ellington. In 1928, with Richard Whiting, he turned out She's Funny That Way, which later became an early theme for crooner Frank Sinatra. By 1926 Villa Morét had an office at 1596 Broadway in New York City, and Daniels became a bi-coastal traveler between the two bases. Offices in ten other cities were opened by the end of the year, giving Daniels an excellent distribution and acquisition network. Trends were changing in 1929 in advance of the Great Depression, and Daniels saw these coming. Many of the publishers were being bought up by film companies now looking for material for sound movies. Also, sheet music was losing its luster in light of phonograph records, talking pictures, and radio, all of which required little effort on the part of the listener to enjoy. Daniels moved to Los Angeles, but could not convince the company, of which he was president but not owner, to move their operations to Hollywood. He wrote a few pieces as Jules LeMare while trying to legally separate from Villa Morét publications, and spent the 1930s working with younger lyricists, primarily for publisher Jack Robbins, who was associated with the MGM Studio. Many of these credited bandleader Gus Arnheim as co-composer, a courtesy title for the leader who introduced the pieces - including the big hit Sweet and Lovely - on his radio show, a common practice in the 1920s and 1930s. That courtesy also included 33% of the royalties. Charles composed up until a few years before his death. In mid 1942 he was diagnosed with a kidney ailment, and after eight months succumbed to it in Los Angeles at age 64. One final song was released just after his death. While Daniels is less remembered under his own name, Daniels had a fairly substantial role in both the style and the spread of music in the early 20th century, working from outside of Tin Pan Alley, and yet contributing to it in a big way. This includes ragtime music, early popular song, and well beyond. I would like to add a personal note of thanks to my friend and ragtime performer Nan Bostick who was responsible for much of this research on her great uncle, as well as historian Phil Stewart whose research on Charles L. Johnson had useful cross references on Daniels. Much of the information here was retrieved from public records, trade perodicals, newspapers and other period publications.
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Homer H. Denney was part of the group of Ohio Valley composers that produced compositions steeped with folk heritage. He would consider himself as much a river man as a musician right to the end, and history spans both ragtime and the last sement of the riverboat era in Ohio. Homer was born in Gallipolis, Ohio, on the border with West Virginia, to Zachariah Denney and Emma (Pauley) Denney.
 He also had a brother, Raymond Denney, born in January 1887.Zachariah was listed as a house painter in 1900 and 1910. He was one of ten children of respected Gallipolis butcher and volunteer fireman Zachariah Denney Sr. and Mary M. (Cavin) Denney, residents of Ohio since the early 19th century. By 1900 the family had moved to Cincinnati, where Homer would spend most of his life. According to his family, one of his passions became bicycle racing, and he won several races over the years. But the two most enduring interests that would permeate his life were music and boats. That he was able to combine these was a true blessing. As a child Homer took piano lessons and played for dances and parties. In the 1900 Census, at age 14, he was listed as a messenger. The lad had a fascination with the calliope and wanted very much to be given an opportunity to play one to prove himself. That opportunity presented itself when the player on the original paddlewheel steamer Island Queen fell ill in 1901. He did well on his first outing for a 16-year-old, and when the other player died shortly thereafter, he was offered the position. The first verified fix on Denney as a musician is in 1905 when he self-published his first rag, No-Ze, in Cincinnati. By this time he was already making a name for himself as a calliope player on the Ohio River. His next piece, Coney Island Girl, refers to the Coney Island in the river at Cincinnati, which has had a long history of amusement parks and recreation since the late 19th century. The boat he spent most of his life working for during its first and second incarnations was the Island Queen. Built on the frame of the former Saint Joseph, the first Island Queen was launched in 1896, and improved in 1905. It held as many as 3,000 passengers, usually in service from the city to the amusement island, but sometimes for special excursions as far south as New Orleans during Mardi Gras. As a result of his employment on the ship, many of Denney's pieces were fairly simple yet innovative, making the best possible use of the limited yet demanding calliope keyboard. He also played piano on the ship in the interior dining area. His next composition, Water Queen was likely dedicated to the Island Queen. Homer was married around 1905 to Bertha Kraft, and late in 1908 their daughter June D. Denney was born. One other child had not survived infancy. By 1907 he was starting to make somewhat of a name for himself on the river. That same year, one of Homer's more notable rags, Hot Cabbage, was self-published. He followed this up with the popular Cheese and Crackers.
Denney did not meet the same success with his next two rags, Monograms and Ham Bones as he had with Chimes. He also co-wrote an ethnic Jewish piece with comedian Ben Rafalo, but it had a limited shelf life. Ironically, one of the pieces most associated with him was Caliope Rag, actually composed by brothers Sylvester and Charles Hartlaub. Homer was known for his nightly performances of this popular piece, and its wide distribution helped make him somewhat famous. Another such piece was The Queen Rag by Floyd Willis. In an article written later in his life, he clearly explained that it took more than musical acumen to play his chosen instrument. "A steam calliope is very hard to play. It takes strength to press the keys down. A calliope is a set of thirty-two [sometimes more] whistles tuned to a definte pitch. The ranges is from 'C' to 'F', a little over two octaves. There are 200 pounds of steam coming up through the valve which makes eight pounds of pressure on each note. Every finger has to push down eight pounds of steam to make a sound, and to keep the note on pitch the finger has to hold down the note with that eight pounds of steam pressure, otherwise it will be off pitch when even slightly released. Everyone cannot sustain notes against the steam pressure which accounts for its sound out of tune. I had strong fingers and it was not hard for me." The Island Queen was a well-known ship, running between Cincinnati and Coney Island, with various entertainers on board, but Denney reportedly being the star. Given the sheer decibel volume of a typically steam calliope, he was hard to avoid in any event. The ship carried some 4,000 passengers at a time, and was covered with around 7,000 electric lights. For longer excursions there was a 20,000 square foot dance floor, for which Denney often led the ship's dance orchestra. Homer continued to work on it for some time, and in an additional capacity in 1914 as the tuner of new steam calliopes built at the Thomas J. Nichol factory,
By 1917 Denney had long since ceased composing, and his frequency on the ship is uncertain. He was instead primarily employed at the Universal Car Company as an inspector and motor tester, as listed on his draft record, and shows the same position as of the 1920 Census. On April 27, 1922, the roof and some of the decks collapsed on the Island Queen, putting it out of commission for a few months. After it was repaired, on November 4, 1922 the Island Queen burned along with other ships at the Cincinnati docks. As it turns out, the backup employment option was a good plan for the Denney family. During the gap and well beyond, Denney continued to play a Tangley air pressure calliope in the Shrine Circus, being an active member of the Shriners. In the interim the G.W. Hill was pressed into service, and Denney managed to get some work on it until the new ship was ready. He also kept busy with his own small orchestra that played both in town and later on the replacement sidewheeler. The new oil powered steamer Island Queen built on a steel hull was launched in 1925, and with it, a resurrection of Denney's career as a dedicated calliope player. He was able to salvage the original calliope after the fire 1922, as it had miraculously stayed above the water line. Homer rebuilt it so it could be sold to the new ship. His newly resurrected instrument was made on a substantial iron frame, and the echoes of nostalgia for riverboats made them popular again, in part due to Edna Furber's novel Showboat, soon to become a Jerome Kern stage musical. Denney rode this wave for many more years, right on through the Great Depression. The 1930 Census lists him as a musician on the ship. As of the late 1930s he was an employee of the waterworks for City of Norwood where the family had moved years before. Around that same time, after a bout with pneumonia, doctors had advised him to move out west to boost his survival chances. Denney responded by staying in Ohio, but taking a hiatus from the ship, and he took up farming for a while. He bought his own tractor and used it not only to work his farm properties, but by the early 1940s was also keeping the weeds and grass in check around Norwood. Having obviously recovered from his illness, he continued to play on the Island Queen literally through the last gasp of its second life. Homer also built his own small boats and even a houseboat which he often resided in between trips on the Island Queen. Many steamships during World War II had been retrofitted and repainted for military transport and war related purposes. After the war they were taken to the ship yards in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, for repainting and refitting back into their civilian functions. The Island Queen was moored at Pittsburgh on September 8, 1947, when a welder's torch set off fumes from a fuel tank, causing a major explosion. The crew and a number of passengers had come up to Pittsburgh where the work was being done, including Denney, and most of them had left the ship to go into town. Denney had literally just walked off the ship with his camera when the explosion occurred, and ended up taking most of the only photographs of his beloved second home on the water going up in flames, along with 19 remaining crew members. All that was left of his beloved calliope was the steel frame and four brass keys. Homer returned to Cincinnati in a pair of borrowed overalls, as all of his belongings, except his camera, had been destroyed. Having no instrument to play on, he was forced into retirement from his riverboat days.
In his following years Homer played his custom Tangley Calliope in parades, and electric organs in other venues. In fact, he had not played an organ before, but secured a gig only two weeks after purchasing a portable electric model. Among his regular organ haunts were the Cincinnati Gardens, home of many sporting events, and the Palace Gardens Skating Rink which had a very unique grand organ. He continued to supervise his farm properties and even dabbled in real estate. Still, Denney was ready at any time to lend his musical talents, often gratis, to the city of Cincinnati for parades, Shriners events, and even the Cincinnati Reds baseball team at Crosley Field starting in 1952. Homer said he enjoyed that venue the most since it was a place where he could "turn loose the volume, because the louder I play the better it sounds." He also took an interest in crank street organs (the type often associated with monkey grinders), not only restoring them but also creating rolls for them by hand. Denney did own one large instrument, a Wurlitzer 105. He wrote about his time on the river, and helped to leave a legacy about the golden days of steamships on the Ohio and the Mississippi. Denney was a guest at the first St. Louis Ragtime Festival in the 1960s, according to coordinator Trebor Tichenor and performers Mike Montgomery and John Arpin, but he did not play, perhaps due to his hearing issues. It has been said that he never talked about the rags he had composed in earlier years. When his wife passed on in the late 1960s, Homer lived with his daughter June (Rotunno) in Madeira, Ohio. His last known gig was in 1971 when the Coney Island amusement park in Cincinnati was closed. In his last few months in 1975 he lived in the Ohio Masonic Home in Springfield. Homer Denney left us in September of that year, just as a new generation of ragtime fans started discovering some of the great folk rags of the ragtime era, including those of the well-known calliopist. Thanks go to remaining members of the Denney family, including his granddaughter Judy Carr, who willingly provided a great deal of background information on the composer. This allowed the author to finally pinpoint his evasive and clearly misspelled 1900 Census entry. Also to performer and historian Fred Hoeptner who provided some additional information on Denney through a back issue of the Rag Times. More can be found on Denney and the Island Queen at the comprehensive www.steamboats.org. A fine series of pictures of the ship and its travails is available online from the Cincinnati Libray at wiki.cincinnatilibrary.org/index.php/Island_Queen. Also, thanks to Jeremy Stevenson who uncovered the rare Sammy's Wigglin' Dance. | |||||||||
Will Donaldson had a hand in the start of a career of one of the great American composers, but in the end did not do too badly for himself either. Born in New York to hotel keeper John H. Donaldson and his wife Rose T. Donaldson, Will was the youngest of their three surviving children out of five. He had two older sisters, Beatrice (6/1879) and Agnes (2/1883). An older brother, Edward (10/1880), died in his early twenties. By the time of the 1900 Census, John had become a shipping clerk, a position he would remain in for the rest of his life. Will's early musical training went beyond normal New York School System classes, as he attended the Pratt Institute, and was a part of the recently formed Art Students League. Thanks go to New Zealand piano roll historian Robert Perry who contributed information on Donaldson's involvement with Rythmodik | ||||||||||
or more directly manager Mose Gumble, to do anything with his own compositions. Donaldson helped him in some way with George's only rag, Rialto Ripples, making it the sole Remick publication of a Gershwin tune at that time. Will's role is unclear, whether it be as an arranger making the piece playable for the average player, or actually adding some content to the challenging work. In any case, he got co-credit for the rag, and Gershwin got the boot soon after by Gumble who made it clear he should "leave composing to the composers." Donaldson was a friend and admirer of Gershwin for many years thereafter, as noted in later correspondence between the two men.
In addition to working with Jo Trent on pieces that would be included at one point or another in the hit musical Runnin' Wild, which introduced the Charleston into the world, he co-wrote Oh Sister, Ain't That Hot, which became a substantial jazz age hit still performed and recorded in the 21st century.
Known in his youth as "The Boy Paderewski", Willie Eckstein would never let up from his enormous drive and amazing abilities, becoming Eastern Canada's premier pianist even before the death of fellow musician Jean-Baptiste Lafrenière in 1912. Short only in height, but not in talent, Willie's path was evident before he was even in school. He was the youngest of what was reportedly fourteen children (only nine were confirmed) born to Swedish immigrant George Hugo Eckstein (shows as Eckstine in 1881) and his German wife Wilhelmina (Hidebrandt) Eckstein in Pointe St. Charles, a mostly Irish district of Montréal, Quebec, where they were shown in the 1891 Census. His musically trained parents had come original from Sweden to New York City, then Hamilton, Ontario, and had moved to Montréal just a year before Willie's birth. Among his siblings were August (1872), George Hugo Jr. (1874), Wilhelmina (Mina) (1876), Henry (1878), Emily (1880 - died in childhood), Augusta Bianca (1882), Clara Henrietta (1883), John Ion Adolphe [or Jack] (1886) who would also enjoy a somewhat successful musical career. William was baptised in early December 1889 along with many of his siblings at the Presbytarian Church of Saint Mathew in Pointe St. Charles.
Willie must have known where his heart was early on, because it is said his first demonstration at the piano was at age three, when he plucked out the melody of Home Sweet Home just after a visitor had played the same piece a day before. Obviously the Ecksteins knew from their own musical passions that they should have the toddler trained to make the best use of his inherent abilities. The earliest lessons may have been given at home, but it was clear that a career teacher was necessary to handle the child prodigy. At some point in the mid 1890s the family moved to the Hochelaga area of Montréal where they were shown in the 1901 Census. George is listed as a furrier, George Jr. as a bookkeeper, Mina as a machine operator, Clara worked in a paper box factory, and John, only 15, was already a clerk. Eventually Willie was put under the tutelage of music teacher Moretzky Upton of McGill University, along with assorted other instructors who taught him piano, theory and harmony. He studied constantly from late 1894 to around 1900. One issue that Eckstein had to overcome was a paralyzed finger, which was either a birth defect or became disabled at a very early age. Another was his diminutive size and therefore slightly smaller hands. As an adult he came in at only 4'10" (reports vary, but that is the average height), shorter even than famed American pianists Eubie Blake and Charles "Luckey" Roberts. It seems in the end that neither problem held him back, and perhaps encouraged him to achieve more. During these years Willie also worked to earn money for his training, dressed up to attract attention while playing at a store near his home. Billed as the "Swedish Boy Wonder," he was employed by the Bell Piano Company as a salesman for two years running at the Canadian National Exhibition. Around 1900 the boy prodigy was offered a scholarship in music to attend a local conservatory (McGill Conservatory has been cited, but it was likely McGill University as the Conservatory did not open until 1904).  He achieved this goal by memorizing 47 pages of Mendelssohn's Concerto in D Minor. But the money was not enough to address the concerns of his large family and keep him in school. He was heard by someone who was in effect a talent scout while playing in Montréal and offered a job playing in New York City for a time.It is said he was performing in a storefront in New York when he was heard by yet another agent and quickly offered a $15,000 per year contract on the Keith/Albee, Proctor and Orpheum vaudeville circuits. Hoping to have obtained regular recitals for his living instead, Willie knew how much his family needed the funds, so reluctantly accepted with his father's prompting. Eckstein was billed as the "Boy Paderewski" and was routinely dressed in little boy's clothing, taking advantage of his diminutive height to make him appear much younger than his actual age. The great Paderewski came to see him as well, fully approving of the use of his name in regards to the talents of the amazing youth. Willie toured most of the population centers of the United States and Canada from coast to coast during his vaudeville tenure. While performing in Washington D.C. in 1905, he was offered a performance at the White House for President Theodore Roosevelt. He was often billed over other well known stars on the same program, including Harry Houdini and the husband and wife team of Nora Bayes and Jack Norworth. Around 1905 (some sources cite 1901, so this is uncertain) Willie traveled to hie parent's home country of Sweden, where he spent time there and in Germany receiving musical training while earning money performing, even giving a royal command performance along the way. Eckstein was on his way to the top, or so it seemed. Nature can't be stopped, and neither could the onset of puberty. Willie's voice deepened and his facial hair growth accelerated to the point where he reportedly needed to shave twice daily in order to maintain the illusion of being a pre-teen. Suspicions grew, and eventually bookings started to diminish as he seemed more adult and less child-like. At the end of one of the tours Eckstein was back in New York City struggling to make ends meet while playing in storefronts and restaurants. So in late 1906 the 18-year-old boy wonder returned to Montréal to find steady work. This he did at the Lyric Music Hall on St. Catherine Street, similar to many of the vaudeville venues he had been through over the last several years. He spent much of the next six years there, evolving from a theater accompanist for live singers to an accompanist for actors on screen. It was said he was among the first accompanists for a teen-aged Beatrice Lillie who graced the stage there. It was also where he was working when he composed and published his first compositions in 1910, including his first piano rag, Some Rag: A Real Live One. He is shown living in St. Jacques, Montréal, still with his family in the 1911 Census, and listed as a musician. By 1910 films started to draw audiences more so than live performers. So progress came to downtown Montréal in 1912 when the 1,000 seat Strand Theater, intended primarily for movie exhibition, was opened by George Ganetakos. Willie was offered a job there even as the theater was under construction and he was still plugging away at the Lyric. From opening day on it was evident that the former child prodigy had a gift for fitting the proper musical settings to otherwise silent films,
During his 18 year tenure at the Strand, Willie enjoyed great celebrity not only in Montréal but far outside of it as well. In his compositions and publicity he used many variations on his name, including Billy and Billie, and occasionally Wm. for William, but the theater publicity machine further dubbed "Mr. Fingers," and ultimately "The World's Foremost Motion Picture Interpreter," a claim that was likely very valid. In fact, it has been said that many who attended the Strand, including a bevy of musicians, paid more attention to Eckstein's varied scores for the film than they did to what was on the large screen. Among the notables who expressed amazement at the big sound coming from the little guy were Eubie Blake, Joseph Hoffman, Vladimir de Pachmann, and even the brilliant pianist and composer Sergei Rachmaninoff who reportedly expressed utter amazement at what he was hearing, stating "I don't believe it." For many years he worked with percussionist Armand Meerte, who provided both rhythm and some of the sound effects. One future starlet of note, Miss Norma Shearer, remembered attending matinees instead of high school in order to hear Willie play his own composition Beautiful Thoughts and other favorites. And while the stars of the pictures got their names on the marquee, Eckstein had a two-story wall all to himself with a painting depicting him at his craft. Willie started putting more of his own works into print after a few years at the Strand, and even took on at least one young protégé during his tenure, someone who could fill in when the maestro wasn't around. He was Reginald Thomas Broughton, a British import, whot would soon take on the stage name of Harry Thomas. Harry had enough of a foundation as a performer to go to Chicago in 1916 and record two of their as yet unpublished collaborations, Delirious Rag and Perpetual Rag, to piano roll for QRS. He later went to New York City to record Delirious Rag and his own Classical Spasm for Victor, making him the first Canadian musician to record ragtime piano. In spite of their sometimes difficult but fruitful time together, Thomas ended up with little traction in the performance world beyond the mid 1920s, and tragically died from the ravages of alcoholism in 1941. But he did help to spread Willie's name further into the United States. One other young British protégé, Miss Vera Guillarof, would have much more success as his substitute and later as a replacement for Thomas. She would occasionally work with Eckstein on the radio, and in nightclubs in later years. Willie continued to write, often providing lyrics for somebody else's tune, and working as his own lyricist as well. His command of most music forms was impressive, but his ragtime skills were stellar, in part because of the types of music that ragtime was culled from. However, even before the term was coined, Eckstein was adding tricks to his playing which equated to the genre of "Novelty Ragtime," something that would become very much in vogue by the 1920s. But in doing so his improvisation was more or less laid out rather than spur of the moment, which kept him perhaps an arms length from being a full-fledged jazz musician, even though he would embrace and play jazz well once it made the rounds in Quebec. During the First World War he collaborated on a couple of patriotic numbers. Due to his height he was excluded from serving in the Canadian Armed Forces, even though he did try to enlist. So he fought by playing at rallies to help sell war bonds. In 1919 Eckstein was teamed up for a one-shot song with American composer/artist Gene Buck. Goodbye Sunshine, Hello Moon was featured in the Ziegfeld Follies of that year as well as comedian Ed Wynn's Carnival, providing him with something of a hit. In the end, however, the demand for his tunes on Broadway never panned out. But it was also the same year he was first heard on radio station XWA (later CFCF),  accompanying singer Gus Hill and playing some on his own, making him the first Canadian to play ragtime piano over the air, and history records that it was likely the first live broadcast ever in North America.The next step starting around 1919 was to get Willie's playing archived on recordings. His first forays onto record were as part of the Strand Trio with his brother Jack on the violin and Armand Meerte (or so it seems likely) on the xylophone. These were released on the Canadian subsidiary of HMV (His Master's Voice) records, the British equivalent of the Victor label. Jack would also start his own jazz band, the first in Montréal, which often featured Willie at the piano both on records and for occasional live performances. Willie also recorded (often as Billy Eckstein) with the Melody Kings, of which another song collaborator, Billy Munro, was a member. They were more of an improvisational "hot jazz" group than Jack's band. Most of the tunes were covers of current popular jazz hits. In 1923, Herbert Berliner, son of the pioneer phonograph inventor Emile Berliner, started the Compo company in Canada, being one of the first to use the electronic recording process in North America, a clear advantage over the acoustic horn recording that had been common at the time. Willie did his first solo recordings for Compo, choosing Scott Joplin's Maple Leaf Rag for his first cut. While it is not the first known recording of the piece, it is the oldest surviving acoustic recording of the well known rag. These early records saw good distribution on the Okeh, Apex and Starr labels of Compo in North America. Another notable recording done that same year was his A Musical Massacre, a ragtime take on Frederic Chopin's Revolutionary Etude. It would not be in print until the late 1990s when Canadian pianist Mimi Blais, one of the only other performers of the piece who could fully capture Eckstein's ferocity and whimsy, would supervise its publication. Willie would be very supportive of Berliner over the next several years, sometimes recording as Vi Palmer. He would later also record for the Victor label from around 1929-1932. But after almost two decades as one of the biggest celebrities in Eastern Canada, Willie Eckstein was upstaged by no less than one of the top celebrities of the United States, Al Jolson. The arrival of The Jazz Singer signaled an obvious end to movies without sound, meaning movies that would no longer need accompaniment. When The Strand finally made the latent conversion in 1930 (most Montréal theaters had already been fitted for sound) there were very few movies coming in that required Eckstein's soundtrack. So he finally left the lucrative position and struck out for new venues. It didn't take the popular pianist long to find new spots. Given how popular Canada had become over the previous decade for those south of the border who were suffering through a national prohibition,  Toronto and Montréal were definitely hotspots for visitors looking for the nightlife and the alcohol that went with it. "Mr. Fingers" found work in The Clover Cafe and the Lido Club. However, once he reached the Château Ste. Rose in Laval, a northern suburb of Montréal, he found his new home. Along with pianist Robert Langlois, who he often played duets with, and Langlois' house orchestra, Willie started a two decade and more stint at the club. He also did regular performance with occasional radio and early television appearances during this time. He often performed broadcasts with Vera Guillarof, billed together as The Piano Ramblers. Willie continued to compose as well, writing To the King and Queen in honor of a 1939 visit from the residents of Buckingham Palace, who in turn sent him letters of appreciation.As with World Was One, the Second World War was not a place for short soldiers. But Willie still did his bit for King and country, writing more patriotic tunes and performing to raise bond money, once even taking to the streets on the back of a flatbed truck. Remaining ever popular through the end of the decade, Eckstein started slowing down a bit as the 1950s approached. Still, he was able to reunite with Beatrice Lillie as her accompanist once again in a 1954 show honoring the singer. He also scored again with royalty in 1959 with Queen of Canada, composed for a visit by Queen Elizabeth II to open the St. Lawrence Seaway. But years of performance and moderate drinking took their toll, and before the decade was out, Eckstein had difficulty performing due to the pain of arthritis. He finally had to retire from even occasional performance in his early seventies after he broke an arm. Willie Eckstein was not forgotten by his legions of fans and countrymen. On May 27th, 1963, a special Eckstein Night was held for the 74-year-old entertainer at His Majesty's Theater in Montréal. Unable to perform, he simply enjoyed the tribute and accepted an award, saying that the whole experience had given him the will to recover from his ailments to make a comeback. "I'll be back with bells on." Sadly, the bells never rang. The strain of the evening may have contributed to a major stroke the pianist suffered hours after the tribute. Eckstein reportedly remained in a coma over the next four months, finally losing the battle. One his favorite spots was Mount Royal, for which he wrote a song to benefit the Kiwanis Club day camp situated there. His ashes were spread there for him to enjoy the view perpetually. Through recordings by Willie and his protégés, as well as those he inspired, including (the late) Oscar Peterson, (the late) John Arpin, and the incomparable Mimi Blais, his music still lives on nearly a half century later. Among those who have done the best research on Eckstein are Jack Hutton, who wrote an article in The Ragtimer (Nov/Dec 1986) and John Gilmore in Swinging in Paradise (1988). Additional information and music resources can be found on historian Ted Tjaden's site at www.ragtimepiano.ca, and another site run by Eckstein's family, williameckstein.com/. Additional information and Census data was researched by the author. | |||||||||||
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