Reflections Of 1920's And 30's Street Life In The Music Of Bessie Smith

by Ross Whitney

(Written Spring, 1995, California State University, Long Beach, for Christine Forney's course: the History of Women in Music.)

As the saying goes, "you gotta pay the dues if you wanna sing the blues." In no other way than living the kind of violent, promiscuous, hard-drinking street life she sang about, could Bessie Smith have inspired in her audiences the powerful empathy that ultimately won her the title, "Empress of the Blues." Throughout her career, Bessie was respected for being a strong, independent African-American woman with tremendous talent and determination. She expressed great pride in her culture, and gladly participated in its earthy pleasures, regularly indulging her taste for alcohol and sex to extremes. Though her acclaim rapidly crossed racial boundaries, she shunned the icy affections and condescending embraces of the elitist white New York uppercrust, as well as fawning conformists from her own community. How ever much others tried to run roughshod over her, Bessie refused to submit to the slightest abuse without a knock-down, drag-out fight. With few exceptions, she held to her musical ideals with equal tenacity. Though musically illiterate, she regularly collaborated with her pianists to compose and write down her music,1 and her words frequently touched on pertinent events in her life. Her performance style, too, derives considerably from her own personal and cultural attributes.

As an adult, Bessie Smith stood about six feet and weighed some two hundred pounds. Her imposing physical size and strong voice helped her to carve out a niche in the wild, incipient 1920's blues world amongst tough competition and contending popular styles. According to Richard Hadlock in Jazz Masters of the Twenties, she could project a song more forcibly to large audiences than any other blues singer in the days before microphones and audio amplification.2 She exploited the strongest register of her naturally resonant voice using techniques pioneered by Gertrude "Ma" Rainey, the first known "classic" blues singer. Haddock points out Bessie's tendency, like Rainey, to create new melodies, or modify existing ones, by "centering" around pitches that lay in the loudest portion of her range (between fi and al). An example of this can be heard in her rendition of Alberta Hunter's Downhearted Blues which launched Bessie's recording career in 1923.3 The underlined words from the second verse below are sung on the dominant note in C. In addition to creating sheer volume, her frequent returns to gl, elongated and accented for emphasis, create a hypnotic, chant-like affect.

Trouble, trouble, I've had it all my days,
Trouble. trouble. I've had it all my days,
It seems that trouble's going to follow me to my grave.4

Bessie used her size and strength to advantage in other ways outside of her stage performances. Chris Albertson, in his eloquent biography, Bessie, describes numerous occasions in which she displayed a violent temper without regard for her opponent's size, race, or gender. In personal arguments, contractual disputes with managers, employee discipline, or disagreements with other singers, Bessie was known to use her fists with little reservation. On one occasion, at a party in 1925 following an appearance in her home town of Chattanooga, Tennessee, she knocked down a large male who was bothering her and a couple of friends. Later, when the man retaliated by stabbing her in the side with a knife, she chased him down the street until she dropped from the strain of the wound.5 Her temper drove her to even greater extremes in 1926 when she caught husband Jack Gee in an affair with one of her chorus girls. After beating up the girl and throwing her off their parked train, she pursued Jack down the New York railroad track firing at him with his own handgun.6 Jack was a strong and violent man with whom Bessie had numerous physical encounters. Echoes of brutality made their way into Bessie's lyrics. She wrote the words to Please Help Me Get Him Off My Mind in 1928, not long before her final separation with her husband. There is nothing contrived about their content.

It's all about a man who always kicks and dogs me around
It's all about a man who always kicks and dogs me aroun';
And when I try to kill him, that's when my love for him come down.7

J.C. Johnson's wry Black Mountain Blues, which Bessie recorded in 1930, is less sentimental:

Had a man in Black Mountain, sweetest man in town,
Had a man in Black Mountain, sweetest man in town;
He met a city gal and he throned me down.

I'm bound for Black Mountain, me and my razor and my gun,
I'm bound for Black Mountain, me and my razor and my gun;
gonna shoot him if he stands still, and cut him if he run.8

I ain't no high yella, I'm a deep killer brown.
I ain't gonna marry, ain't gonna settle down.
I'm gonna drink good moonshine and rub these browns down.
See that long lonesome road, Lawd you know it's gonna end,
and I'm a good woman and I can get plenty men.9

This extended to women as well as men. For instance, her sexual involvement with her chorus girls was no secret. According to her niece and close companion at the time, Ruby Walker, Bessie was openly physical in public with at least one of her dancers, Lillian, with whom she slept regularly during January and February, 1927.10 In the 1920's, explicit and "atypical" sexuality was available to thrill seekers at such places as Helen Valentine's 140th Street New York establishment and Detroit's buffet "flats" where Bessie and Ruby were regulars. Ruby recalled in one interview, "Everything goes.... They had shows in every room, two women goin' together, a man and a man goin' together...and if you [were] interested [they'd] do the same thing to you."11 Presumably because homosexuality and bisexuality were considered offensive to the major entertainment purveyors of the time, her recorded repertoire only hints at her inclinations in these areas. During the same year as her affair with Lillian, Bessie recorded Foolish Man Blues, containing the words,

There's two things got me puzzled, there's two things I don't understand,
There's two things got me puzzled, there's two things I don't understand,
That's a mannish-acting woman, and a skipping, twistin' woman-acting man.12

The song takes on additional irony if there is any truth to Elaine Feinstein's claim that Bessie had sex with the effeminate, homosexual pianist, Porter Grainger.13 Grainger, incidentally, co-authored with Everett Robins in 1922, 'Tain't Nobody's Biz-Ness If I Do, whose words probably best characterize Bessie's intransigence.

There ain't nothin' I can do or nothin' I can say,
That folks don't criticize me;
But I'm going to do just as I want to anyway,
and don't care if they all despise me.14

Bessie openly stated her preference for dark skinned lovers and denigrated light-skinned blacks.15 She generally disliked caucasians altogether.16 While her biographers mention only a few direct experiences with racial discrimination, Bessie was understandably resentful of white America's blatant disregard of blacks. Despite an enthusiastic following among both Northern and Southern whites, Bessie made no attempt to endear herself to white society. At the height of her popularity, Bessie's income provided ample resources to adapt a "mainstream" lifestyle (i.e. "white"). But she stubbornly clung to her familiar street life and homemade liquor probably out of rebellion as much as natural propensity. There were notable exceptions to her avoidance of whites. Frank Walker, her producer at Columbia Records, and the Van Vechtens, New York socialites and admirers of African American culture, were among the few who Bessie grew to trust.17 By and large, however, Bessie kept her distance from what she understood to be an unbridgeable chasm of racial inequality during the 1920's and 30's. She must have been infinitely more pugnacious on the subject in private than she was allowed to be on record, as the following heartfelt but relatively tepid stanzas from Poor Man's Blues suggest.

Mister rich man, rich man, open up your heart and mind,
Mister rich man, rich man, open up your heart and mind;
Give the poor man a chance, help stop these hard, hard times.
While you're livin' in your mansion you don't know what hard times means,
While you're livin' in your mansion you don't know what hard times means;
Poor working man's wife is starving your wife is livin' like a queen.18

Dirty No-Gooder's Blues shows less restraint, however, concerning her own community:

There's nineteen men livin' in my neighborhood,
There's nineteen men livin' in my neighborhood;
Eighteen of them are fools and the one ain't no doggone good."19

Growing up on Chatanooga's poor side, later traveling the black entertainment circuit throughout the South and Northeast (she never traveled abroad),20 and patronizing bawdy speakeasies must have produced the street wisdom that Bessie displayed in both personal and professional transactions. Professionally, Bessie was territorial to the point that she refused to appear in the same show with another blues singer.21 Her relationships with other female singers were often stormy. Bessie did agree to record with rival, Clara Smith (no relation) a few songs of which My Man Blues portrays the two in mock competition over the same man. The following dialogue comes from that 1925 recording.22

(Bessie:) It is my man, sweet papa Charlie Gray.
(Clara:) Your man? How do you git that way?
(Bessie:) Now look here, honey, I been had that man for umpteen year.
(Clara.) Child, didn't I turn your damper down?
(Bessie.) Yes, Clara, and I've cut you every way but loose!

Though the song ends with an agreement to share their lover Ron the cooperation plan,S the singers' real-life association terminated at a party shortly afterward in a fist fight that left Clara badly beaten. 23 Sometimes her fights landed her in jail, like one with Ruby Walker over a male dancer.24 She wrote Jailhouse Blues in 1923 with pianist, Clarence Williams, and Pickpocket Blues in 1928. However, because of the disjointed, unrelated stanzas in the former, and clearly fictional circumstances in the later, these songs can hardly be considered autobiographical. In addition to fighting, Bessie used other tactics to get her way. By threatening to pull down a theater's stage curtain by hanging on them with her full weight, which, according to Ruby, she showed little hesitation in doing.25 By throwing a tantrum in an audience-crowded lobby to compel a reluctant manager to pay an advance.26 By falsely claiming insolvency to trick a producer into paying her travel expenses.27 By inventing elaborate alibis to conceal marital infidelity.28 By absconding in the night with her show's props and costumes, leaving the entire crew unpaid and stranded in a remote location.29 The list of Bessie's antics is extensive. Ethics aside, she demonstrated great resourcefulness for survival in a mean environment that might easily have discouraged a less adaptive individual.

Naturally, there were times of fatigue in which her resilience temporarily faltered. Alcohol played a role in her leisure time as, to some extent, did marijuana. According to Chris Albertson, references to such substances are common in records of the 1930's, but Bessie mentions marijuana on record only once. In her rendition of Wesley Wilson's Gimmie a Pigfoot, Bessie substitutes "a reefer and a gang of gin" for "a pigfoot and a bottle of beer," in the final chorus.30 The song also suits Bessie's preference for home-brewed liquor and disdain for "high brow" society.

Up in Harlem ev'ry Saturday night when the high-brows git together it's just too tight,
They all congregates at an all night strut and what they do is tut-tut-tut..
Old Hannah Brown from 'cross town gets full of corn and starts breakin' 'em
down.31

Reports concerning the circumstances of Besse's death in 1937 after an automobile accident outside of Clarksdale, Mississippi brought more controversy and attention from the white press than she had received during her lifetime. Her producer at the time, John Hammond, published an article in down beat magazine, based entirely on hearsay, claiming that Bessie had died unattended after a white hospital refused to accept the black woman into the emergency room.32 Without bothering to investigate Hammond's credibility, writers spread the story, embellishing it as they went, until the intrigue surrounding Bessie's death remained etched in the public's vague, racially-charged recollection. Edward Albee's 1960 play, The Death of Bessie Smith, helped perpetuate the myth. "Bessie Smith," says Albertson, "became better known for the way in which she had allegedly died than for what she had done in life.

The lore may have done some good, however, because it helped revive interest in the singer's life and recordings. A number of biographies have appeared, the most notable being Albertson's. In 1975, Frank Music Corporation published a sheet-music collection of thirty-three songs either authored or popularized by Bessie Smith. More recently, Columbia and Sony have issued multi-volume sets of her recordings remastered onto compact discs. Her style of interpretation and composition have impacted music beyond the limits of the genre. Influencing countless musicians through a congruence of words, delivery, and lifestyle, she will likely remain an important figure in American music.

NOTES

1 Richard Hadlock, Jazz masters of the Twenties, New York: Macmillan, 1965: 225.

2 Ibid., 223-229.

3 Bessie Smith, The Collection. Original 1923 sound recording, A.3844 remastered

to compact disc. New York: Columbia Records, 1989.

4 Lovie Austin and Alberta Hunter, Down Hearted Blues,

5 The stabbing took place at 4 a.m. Against doctor's orders, Bessie was on stage performing again at two that afternoon. Chris Albertson, Bessie, New York: Stein and Day, 1972: 85-86.

6 Paul Oliver, Bessie Smith, New York: A. S. Barnes, 1959: 59.

7 Bessie Smith, Please Help Me Get Him Off My Mind, New York: Empress Music, Inc., 1928.

8 Albertson, Bessie. New York: Stein & Day, 1972: 175.

9 Bessie Smith, Young Woman's Blues, New York: Empress Music, Inc., 1927.

10 Ibid-, 120-122.

11 Lillian Faderman, "Harlem Nights" in The Advocate (March 26, 1991): 54; Albertson, 122.

12 AlbertsonX 125

13 Elaine Feinstein, Bessie Smith: Empress of the Blues, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1985: 32.

14 Porter Grainger and Everett Robins, 'Taint Nobody's Biz-Ness If I Do, New York: MCA Music, 1922.

15 Albertson, 129.

16 Ibid, 30, et al.

17 Ibid, 34; Albertson, 41-42.

18 Bessie Smith, "Poor ManSs Blues," New York: Empress Music, 1930.

19 Bessie Smith, "Dirty No-Gooder's Blues," Empress Music, 1929.

20 The Theater Owner's Booking Association (T.O.B.A.), a major black vaudeville circuit in which Bessie toured much of her career. Albertson, 66-68.

21 Albertson, 50; Feinstein, 25, et al.

22 As transcribed from the recording in Bessie Smith, Empress of the Blues, New York: Walker Kane & Son, 1975: 111.

23 Albertson, 106.

24 Ibid., 77-78. 25 Ibid., 99-100. I; Ibid., 210. 27 Ibid., 184. 9 Ibid., 92-93.

29 Ibid., 179. 30 Ibid., 188.

31 Wesley Wilson, Gtmnzie a Pigfoot, New York: Northern Music, 1962. 32 Feinstein, 88-91; Albertson, 216-217. 33 Albertson~ 218- Whitney 11

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Albertson, Chris. Bessie. New York: Stein & Day, 1972.

Chilton, John. Who's Who of Jazz. New York: Da Capo Press, 1985.

Faderman, Lillian. aHarlem Nightsf in The Advocate, March 26, 1991.

Feather, Leonard. Encyclopedia of Jazz. New York: Da Capo Press, 1960.

Feinstein, Elaine. Bessie Smith: Empress of the Blues. Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1985.

Hadlock, Richard. Jazz Masters of the Twenties. New York: Macmillan, 1965.

Oliver, Paul. Bessie Smith. New York: AS. Barnes, 1959.

Richter, Clifford, ed. Bessie Smith: Empress of the Blues. Sheet music. New

York: Walker Kane & Son, 1975.

Smith, Bessie. The Collection. Two compact discs. New York: Columbia Records, 1989.