Great to have the Big "O" back!

[Christiern]

GREAT TO HAVE THE BIG "O" BACK!

Hope the tornado spared your homes, family and friends.

Chris

[JSngry]

"Yes" to all of that!

[RainyDay]

It has become painfully clear that I SO do not have a life. But in any event,

Halleluja, halleluja, hallelujah!!!

[Bright Moments]

carl & fania say welcome back!

(chris- please tell the bessie smith story)

[GregK]

GREAT TO HAVE THE BIG "O" BACK!

Hope the tornado spared your homes, family and friends.

Chris

Not quite done yet actually. We are under our third straight day of tornado watches, and a look at the weather radar shows a massive clump of storms heading this way from Indiana with some smaller ones coming from the northwest over Lake Michigan

[Christiern]

carl & fania say welcome back!

(chris- please tell the bessie smith story)

Well, you asked for it. It's long, because I lifted it from my book. BTW, Thanks for posting that photo.--Chris

Since first experiencing Bessie in person at the Orpheum, Van Vechten had seen her perform on several occasions, and his enthusiasm never diminished. But memorable as she was on stage, Bessie made a more lasting impression when she played jester to Van Vechten’s court of celebrities on an April evening in 1928. That week, Bessie was at the Lafayette Theater with her latest production, Mississippi Days, an extravaganza that boasted a cast of forty-five “noted” performers, and was billed as a “Musical Comedy Triumph.” Much of the show’s success was owed Bessie’s new musical director, a shy young man named Porter Grainger, who composed and arranged all the music. Bessie was as impressed by Porter’s work as she was by his handsome looks, but she did think him a bit pretentious at times. Ruby recalled that Bessie’s reaction to Porter’s refined mannerisms and sartorial elegance was often a request that he snap out of it. “C’mon down front, now you’re with me,” she would order.

Although he had a decided predilection for other men, Porter so respected and feared Bessie that he had on a couple of occasions submitted to her desires and bedded her. Of course Bessie had been around the block a few times, so she knew of Porter’s preferences, but he had been a good sport and now there was an opportunity for her to return the favor.

Porter harbored a burning desire to be accepted into Van Vechten’s social inner circle. It was a privilege the writer bestowed on few black people, but Porter met all the qualifications and so it was no surprise that Van Vechten extended him an invitation to one of his elegant gatherings. There was, however, a stipulation: Van Vechten wanted Porter to bring Bessie. “Of course Porter would have done anything to be invited, so he kept after Bessie to go,” said Ruby. “Bessie wasn’t interested, she had no use for being around a bunch of rich white people, but she finally gave in—because Porter kept asking her, and I guess she got tired of listening to him.” Since the Lafayette ran a film before each stage show, there would be time for Bessie to spend a good hour at the the party. Van Vechten made it as convenient as possible by arranging to have a limousine pick them up right after one show and bring them back in time for the next.

There were those who felt that Porter Grainger’s neatly pressed suits, spats, and walking stick were his way of commanding attention in the prestigious world of the white man. To gain entry into that world, a black person either had to imitate white standards with some degree of success or, like Bessie, be gifted with an extraordinary talent. In neither case would a black person be accepted as an equal. “Carlo pampered people like Leontyne Price,” said the late Fannie Hurst, “but he would never think of inviting a Negro elevator operator to his home.” That Bessie and Porter were expected to entertain Van Vechten’s guests was a given—black people, even the famous, were rarely invited to homes of the white upper class for mere conversation. Grainger, of course, could offer Van Vechten more than his musical talent, but there was considerable competition in that arena—Bessie would smooth the way.

Like most black people, Bessie instinctively sensed class-conscious attitudes and their racial overtones, which may be why she rarely made an effort to befriend white people, and when “dicty”6 black people rejected her for being too much the image from which they had escaped, she pretended not to care. “Bessie would pay these uppity Negroes no mind,” said Ruby, “but I could tell that she was hurt inside when they didn’t want nothing to do with her—her own people, you know.” Bessie could have played the game, for it was well within her means to take up residence in Merrick Park, Long Island, where successful black entertainers and other well-to-do black people had established a colony, but she had no such inclination. “She would have been very unhappy with those people and their fancy homes,” Ruby suggested, “because that wasn’t Bessie.”

It was equally difficult for the Merrick Park crowd to relate to Bessie; her prominence as an artist precluded their total rejection of her, but to them she was unforgivably crude; they were made uneasy by her lack of tact and the fact that she could see right through them. “Sometimes Bessie liked to dress up in expensive fur coats that really looked like money,” recalled Ruby, “but she never put on airs, not Bessie. She wasn’t going to change for anyone, she just wanted people to like her for what she was—a real person. She pretended she didn’t care how people felt about her, but she really felt left out sometimes—not by white people; she really didn’t care how they felt—she just loved her own people, and she hated to see them trying to act so dicty6 and white.”

Considering her attitude, it is surprising that Bessie agreed to appear at the Van Vechten party. One could speculate that it was a paid engagement, but Ruby thought that to be unlikely; she probably did it strictly as a favor to Porter Grainger, knowing how important such social contacts were to him. Whatever the reason, she did go, and she went in style. She also insisted that Ruby come along, which she gladly did. “We still had one more show to do, so there wasn’t a lot of time,” Ruby recalled, “but Bessie wanted to show these people some style. She really didn’t want to go, but she was doing it for Porter, because she was kind of sweet on him. They had a little affair going, but he wasn’t too interested in her—not that way, because women wasn’t what he really wanted, if you know what I mean. Anyway, Bessie had on her ermine coat, and she had me dressed up in her mink.”

As her thoughts went back to that evening, Ruby remembered thinking that this was about the grandest place she had seen. “It looked like the Waldorf or the Astor,” she said.

After an elevator ride and a short walk down a carpeted hallway, they were met by a maid, at the apartment door. “She was white,” said Ruby. “I never saw a white maid before.” Beyond the small foyer a sea of faces turned towards the new arrivals; curious guests piercing the smoky perfumed air with stares that blended outer warmth with cautious curiosity. Some of the guests undoubtedly shared their host’s genuine admiration for Bessie’s artistry, but she could hardly have failed to realize that in this environment she was looked upon more as a novelty than an extraordinary artist and peer.

Van Vechten’s own recollection appeared in a 1947 issue of Jazz Record magazine. It is at slight variance with those of Ruby and some of his guests:

• George Gershwin was there and Marguerite d’Alvarez and Constance Collier, possibly Adele Astaire. The drawing room was well filled with sophisticated listeners. Before she could sing, Bessie wanted a drink. She asked for a glass of straight gin, and with one gulp she downed a glass holding nearly a pint. Then, with a burning cigarette depending from one corner of her mouth, she got down to the blues, really down to ‘em, with Porter at the piano. I am quite certain that anybody who was present that night will never forget it. This was no actress, no imitator of a woman’s woes; there was no pretense. It was the real thing—a woman cutting her heart open with a knife until it was exposed for us all to see, so that we suffered as she suffered, exposed with a rhythmic ferocity, indeed, which could hardly be borne. In my own experience, this was Bessie Smith’s greatest performance.
  

It would appear that Van Vechten’s memory failed him on one count, for Bessie’s singing style and stage demeanor was hardly of the dangling cigarette variety—she didn’t even smoke, at least not tobacco. While he was overly dramatic in his description of Bessie’s performance, he prudently left out of his story the real drama of the evening. Van Vechten’s assertion that “anybody who was present that night will never forget it,” was undoubtedly correct, but it was not Bessie’s singing that made this party so memorable. The following account is a composite based on the published recollections of Van Vechten and Langston Hughes, and interviews with veteran character actor Leigh Whipper and Ruby.

The maid offered to take her coat, but Bessie’s brushed her aside and breezed past the welcoming party into the next room. Barely visible in the oversized mink, Ruby trailed behind her—“It was so big, you couldn’t even see me! I could wrap it around me several times,” she recalled. Bringing up the rear was Porter Grainger, elegantly dressed and somewhat nervous. As he moved slowly behind Ruby, she remembers looking back and seeing him graciously return smiles, almost apologetically—the smiles Bessie had ignored.

Taking no notice of a chorus of salutatory “Oh, Miss Smiths,” Bessie, cold sober at this point, did not come to a halt until someone mentioned a drink. It was her host, Van Vechten, radiating the sort of glee a celebrity hunter might exhibit upon having at last captured his prey. “How about a lovely, lovely dry martini?,” he suggested, clasping his hands together.

“Whaaat—a dry martini?” bellowed Bessie. “Ain’t you got some whiskey, man? That’Il be the only way I’ll touch it. I don’t know about no dry martinis, nor wet ones either.”

“Of course,” Van Vechten replied. “I think we can conjure up something you like,” he purred, and disappeared to fulfill Bessie’s request.

Turning to Ruby, Bessie noticed her tripping over the enormous mink. “Take that damn thing off,” she ordered, handing her the ermine to hold. Thoroughly embarrassed by Bessie’s brazenness, Porter pretended to be oblivious to her little scene and began to distancing himself from Bessie and Ruby. He sought to blend, as best he could, into the genteel atmosphere of the drawing room as Ruby, hidden behind the huge fur coats she carried, stumbled to the side of the foyer. Because they were only to stay there a short time, no one bothered to relieve Ruby of the coats. “I didn’t even get a drink,” she complained, “but I had a ringside seat.”

Contralto Marguerita d’Alvarez now stood by the piano, talking to her accompanist as guests began to gather around. Returning with Bessie’s drink, Van Vechten paused at the opera singers’s side long enough to make a brief announcement, Madam d’Alvarez would sing an aria. Then he moved on, graciously making his way over to Bessie. He handed her the drink and she promptly downed it, handed the empty glass back to her host and said. “I think I’ll have another one of those.”

Ms. d’Alvarez began singing her aria and Ruby remembered hearing it, but she could not see very far into the living room from where she sat. She thus did not notice, as Langston Hughes did, that Bessie was riveted by the operatic performance and that she walked over to Ms. d’Alvarez when it was over, slapped her on the back, and advised, “Honey, don’t let nobody tell you you can’t sing.” Then she turn and walked back to VamVechten, mumbling something about her throat being dry.

Porter had been standing off to the side, horrified and embarrassed, but Van Vechten motioned for him to come over—it was time for Bessie’s performance. He walked them over to the piano and disappeared briefly to return with another drink for Bessie. She gulped it down and handed her empty glass to Van Vechten for another refill. Someone asked her what she was going to sing. “Don’t you worry about it,” she said. “My piano player knows.”

Porter Grainger smiled shyly and went into the opening bars of “Work House Blues.” With her subtle, sensual movements and heaving bosom, Bessie mesmerized her audience. The guests listened attentively as she delivered her tale of hard times. Perhaps not everyone understood Bessie’s words, but as they cut through the scented air and novelty became art, they surely understood why Carlo had offered this treat.

Ruby recalled that Bessie sang six or seven numbers, but that is probably an exaggeration. Leigh Whipper recalled hearing only two or three and that each one was followed by enthusiastic applause. There were apparently also further requests for refills, which made porter increasingly uneasy. Only he and Ruby knew what effect the refills were having on Bessie. It was therefore a relief when she finished a number and announced, “This is it!”

“Bessie was good and drunk when she finished her last song,” said Ruby. “So Porter came over to me and said ‘Let’s get her out of here quick, before she shows her ass.’ We got her coat on her and got her to the front door when all of a sudden this woman comes out of nowhere. ‘Miss Smith, you’re not leaving without kissing me goodbye,’ she said.” As she stood facing her, the diminutive lady raised herself up on her toes and threw her arms around Bessie’s neck. Porter’s fears were coming true, Bessie was about to fly off the handle.

Almost hanging on her neck, the lady started to pull Bessie down to her level, but she did not get far. Suddenly, she went off. “It was a mess,” said Ruby. “Bessie screamed ‘Get the fuck away from me!’ and she pushed her arms out, throwing the poor woman to the floor. Then she said ‘I ain’t never heard of such shit!’—and poor Porter, he would have done anything to be with that crowd, but now Bessie had done shown her ass to all them people. I felt so sorry for him.”

Even forty-three years later, Ruby had no idea who the effusive woman was, but Leigh Whipper, whose account of the incident was practically identical to Ruby’s, identified the lady on the floor as the evening’s hostess: Fania Marinoff Van Vechten.

Following a painful silence, Van Vechten and one of his guests helped his wife to her feet. Surrounded by stunned celebrities, Bessie stood in the middle of the foyer, ready to take on the whole crowd. Porter knew that she had only begun—it was time to get her out of there. He grabbing Bessie gently by one arm, he told Ruby to take the other; as guests—some horrified, others bemused—followed them with their stares, Ruby and Porter escorted the Empress out of the apartment and proceeded slowly down the hall towards the elevator. Van Vechten trailed closely behind, seemingly giving his review of the night’s performance.

“It’s all right, Miss Smith,” he said softly, “you were magnificent tonight.”

They had reached the elevator before it dawned on Bessie that she was actually being led away. Shouting “What the fuck are y’all pullin’ me all over the damn place for?,” she threw her arms in the air and this time almost knocked Ruby and Porter to the floor.

When the elevator door opened, she quieted down, raised her head high, marched in past the startled operator, and sank to the floor in the corner of the car.

“I don’t care if she dies,” sighed Porter, straightening the tam on his head.

©2003 Chris Albertson

[7/4]

wow!

[wesbed]

Hmmm... nice and cozy on THIS board. B)

[wesbed]

I've learned that I do prefer the Invision bulletin board software. I missed the hell out of the 'Today's active topics' link. I can hardly navigate without it.

>my AAJ post<

Frack!

Edited May 23, 2004 by wesbed

[Bright Moments]

great story christiern! thanks for sharing it. B)

glad u liked the pic.

[7/4]

I've learned that I do prefer the Invision bulletin board software. I missed the hell out of the 'Today's active topics' link. I can hardly navigate without it.

>my AAJ post<

Frack!

Oh "new posts" wasn't good enough for you?

Hrumph!

[BruceH]

Welcome back, Organissmo Forums! And yes, I don't have a life.

[Guest Chaney]

With this board being down, I visited the AAJ board. As it's been a long time since my last visit to the neighbor's yard, does anyone know what occurred on May 13 for this to have happened?

Most users ever online was 205, May 13th, 2004 at 02:06 AM.

[catesta]

"Yes" to all of that!

Word, word, and......., word.

[Jim R]

I've learned that I do prefer the Invision bulletin board software. I missed the hell out of the 'Today's active topics' link. I can hardly navigate without it.

>my AAJ post<

Frack!

Oh "new posts" wasn't good enough for you?

Hrumph!

On my system, "New Posts" at AAJ doesn't even operate the same (or as well) as it does here, let alone like T.A.T. I've talked to MIke about it, but he thought it might have to wait for the next v-bulletin (or whatever it's called) software upgrade.

T.A.T. rules.

[catesta]

I posted there on Friday and my post was rejected for being less than 10 characters.

I had to re-type it with one big word!

[Brad]

Well, it's good to be back. 7/4, Wesbed and I agree: we don't have a life unless it's Jazz!

Edited May 23, 2004 by Brad

[wesbed]

On my system, "New Posts" at AAJ doesn't even operate the same (or as well) as it does here, let alone like T.A.T.  I've talked to MIke about it, but he thought it might have to wait for the next v-bulletin (or whatever it's called) software upgrade. T.A.T. rules.

I agree. I definitely don't blame Mike for the problem. It appears it's a limit of the vBulletin software. To me, it's a huge sore on the side of that software. I'm surprised it's limited in that way.

Maybe Mike should upgrade to Invision?

[Jim Alfredson]

With this board being down, I visited the AAJ board. As it's been a long time since my last visit to the neighbor's yard, does anyone know what occurred on May 13 for this to have happened?

Most users ever online was 205, May 13th, 2004 at 02:06 AM.

They upgraded their software.

Version 2.0 of Invision is out, but right now there is no way to convert from 1.3 (which is what "The Big O" is using) to 2.0. That is coming soon. 2.0 looks WAY cool though!

I'm excited!

[7/4]

I posted there on Friday and my post was rejected for being less than 10 characters.

I had to re-type it with one big word!

I used .............................................

[wesbed]

Version 2.0 of Invision is out, but right now there is no way to convert from 1.3 (which is what "The Big O" is using) to 2.0.  That is coming soon.  2.0 looks WAY cool though!

I work for 'a major software company.' I don't know how Invision, or any software company, can expect to sell new versions of its software if the user can't convert the old data to the new version. I'd expect Invision would provide a way to convert the data.

I'm much happier with this 'old' version of the Invision software than the new version of vBulletin (used by AAJ and Jazzcorner).

[7/4]

Version 2.0 of Invision is out, but right now there is no way to convert from 1.3 (which is what "The Big O" is using) to 2.0.  That is coming soon.  2.0 looks WAY cool though!

I work for 'a major software company.' I don't know how Invision, or any software company, can expect to sell new versions of its software if the user can't convert the old data to the new version. I'd expect Invision would provide a way to convert the data.

I'm much happier with this 'old' version of the Invision software than the new version of vBulletin (used by AAJ and Jazzcorner).

Isn't this stuff shareware?

[7/4]

I work for 'a major software company.'

Oh hoho! Now we know why you can spend 12 hours listening to Mosaics and hanging at the big "O"!

I know a bit about that gig.

[rockefeller center]

Version 2.0 of Invision is out, but right now there is no way to convert from 1.3 (which is what "The Big O" is using) to 2.0.  That is coming soon.  2.0 looks WAY cool though!

I work for 'a major software company.' I don't know how Invision, or any software company, can expect to sell new versions of its software if the user can't convert the old data to the new version. I'd expect Invision would provide a way to convert the data.

I'm much happier with this 'old' version of the Invision software than the new version of vBulletin (used by AAJ and Jazzcorner).

Isn't this stuff shareware?

http://www.invisionboard.com/download.cgi?subc=trial

[wesbed]

Oh hoho! Now we know why you can spend 12 hours listening to Mosaics and hanging at the big "O"!

I know a bit about that gig.

Truthfully, when I had my 12 marathon, last Thursday, I was away from work. I sat on my bed (near my stereo), enjoyed my three new Mosaics, and played on Organissimo for the duration. The 12 hour marathon started after the Airborne truck arrived.

I couldn't believe I spent 12 hours on the stereo/computer. Like, where did that day go?