Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
Which dovetails nicely with my next question, so I'll post it now. It
has to do with Berlin's personal life, and how much it entered into his
work.

I was struck in the early part of the book about his reluctance to
write about his young wife's death. (And perhaps you can summarize that
tale for those who haven't yet seen the book.) Berlin certainly had a
grasp of what was popular, and sentimentality certainly had a market
then (as ever).  It's admirable he didn't initially want to parade his
heart and his loss; but then he issued a song he'd written earlier that
conveyed his grief superbly, and was a hit. Did this influence him to
cross the line between business and personal a little more often?

And to <fjf>'s question - were his personal politics fodder for his
music as well, or was that, too, something he didn't care to bring into
the equation?
  

    
As far as I know, Berlin never responded publicly to Guthrie, and
while I am sure Berlin heard the song eventually, who knows when.
According to Joe Klein’s Guthrie biography (a great book), Guthrie
first wrote the words to his song on February 23, 1940, and then put it
away for four years. In the spring of 1944, Guthrie recorded the song
with it’s new tag line at the end of the verse “this land was made for
you and me…” and with a new title. Woody did not treat it any
differently that the nearly 132 songs he recorded that spring with
Cisco Houston, Bess Lomax, and Sonny Terry, although Moe Asch would
later say he knew it was an important song. I don’t know when the song
was released but within a year of its recording, Woody had a weekly 15
minute radio show on WNEW in which it was his theme song. (The radio
show only last 12 weeks). Berlin could have heard it then, but would
have never known that it was a parody of his song.

But before anyone thinks it took Woody a long time to get his song
out, Berlin waited 20 years from the time he wrote “God Bless America”
in 1918 for his world War I show, YIP YIP YAPHANK!

The amazing thing to me, is that both have become folk songs. Songs
that everyone seems to know, but the man on the street probably has no
idea who wrote either or that they were so recently. Like any good folk
song — or song for that matter — they are topical and they seem like
they have been around a few hundred years.
  

    
Berlin claimed throughout his life that his songs were not
autobiographical, and that the sentiments he expressed were universal.
This is true to some extent.

The song you mention Angie was “When I Lost You” (1912), the first
great Berlin ballad (which his friend Cole Porter paid homage to in
“You’re the Top” when rhyming it with Waldorf salad). The story of the
song is this. 

In February 1912, Berlin married Dorothy Goetz, the sister of his
close friend and sometimes collaborator, E. Ray Goetz. The newlyweds
honeymooned in Cuba, but soon after they returned Dorothy became ill.
She died from a combination of pneumonia and typhoid fever, which she
caught in Cuba, five months later. Berlin was devastated. His
brother–in–law first took him to Europe to distract him, and on
returning encouraged Berlin to channel his pain into song. Berlin was
skeptical. He saw songwriting as a business. A job that brought him
joy, but work nonetheless. Soon though he found a love song he had put
aside, and a welter of emotion come through in a poignant ballad that
was unlike anything he had written before. The song, copyrighted in
November of 1912,surprisingly, became a hit, second only in popularity
to “Alexander’s Ragtime Band.” Although he would not immediately write
another similar song, he would write a string of ballads over the years
that are among his greatest works.

It was another 12 years, spurred on by the love for the woman that
would be come his second wife, that again he wrote very personal songs
such “All Alone,” “Remember,” and “Always.” I think his happiness at
being a new father in 1926 inspired the great “Blue Skies.” I also
think that “God Bless America” did express his true affection for his
adopted homeland. It was a not a put on, and many people might be
surprised to learn that the song’s popularity almost from the moment it
was first sung, made Berlin realize that it was indeed a special song.
He set up a fund for all the profits of the song to go to, most of
which has benefited the Boy and Girl Scouts (particularly now the NY
chapter which does discriminate against sexual orientation). The song
has generated over $10 million.

His patriotic songs are also, I believe, personal statements as well.
Berlin's patriotism was sincere. he really did feel grateful for all
that Aemrica had allowed him to do, and repaid the kidness in a number
of way. After being drafted in the first world war (only months after
becoming a nautralized citizen) he staged a huge show on Broadway (the
aformentioned YIP YIP YAPHANK) at the request of his commanding officer
to raise funds for a new building at Camp Upton where Berlin was in
basic training. In World War II, at the age of 52, he put his career —
then at his creative apex — on hold for nearly three years as he wrote,
roganized a three hundred soldier production, THIS IS THE ARMY, which
he toured and performed with all over the world. Again all without
making a cent for himself, and often times in difficult conditions. At
the star tof WWII he also worte a number of songs for everything from
the Navy to Liberty Bonds, all of the proceeds he donated to the
government. 

I think his songs contain many personal feelings, most significantly
humor. Berlin enjoyed life, did all right in it, and that comes through
his songs. I think the joy he got from his work is contagious when one
hears them. But in this age of the confessional memoir, self help
books, Dr. Phil, it is easy to say that Berlin did not traffic in the
personal. At the beginning of his career Berlin listened to the world
around him, and the “hum of the engine, the whirr of the wheels, the
explosion of the exhaust” were all incorporated into his music. As his
songs became increasingly earmarked for productions (both stage and
film) he wrote for their characters or their situations.
  

    
Someone pointed out to me off line that my last  post said the
following:
the Boy and Girl Scouts (particularly now the NY chapter which does
discriminate against sexual orientation). 
What I meant to say is that the NY chapter does NOT discriminate
against sexual orientation.

But yesterday's post about "God Bless America" got me thinking that
perhaps Berlin was the greatest songwriter of all time. There are maybe
those whose songs resonate with people, but I doubt there are any
others who songs have not only seeped into the national vernacular the
way that his has, but that reach as many people in so many generations.
  

    
I think you could make a case for Stephen Foster.
  

    
You could make a case for Stephen Foster, the original Doo-Dah man. He
was Berlin's idol. Berlin kept a signed etching of Foster in his
office his whole career. ( I have pictured in the book).

But as popular as Foster's songs are, I think more people know more
Berlin songs than any other songwriter. I think you could stop just
about anyone on the street and ask them if they knew all or parts of
these songs:
God Bless America
White Christmas
Anything You Can Do
There's No business Like Show Business
Puttin' on the Ritz
Alexander's Ragtime Band
Easter Parade
Oh How I Hate To Get Up in the Morning

to name a few

I think you would be surprised at how many are known. How many would
know Foster songs? Camptown Races of course, Hard Times, Jeannie with
the Light Brown Hair, Swannee. They are all great tunes, but you might
think of a few more, then the well might run dry after ten. With
Berlin, the list is fairly extensive, and played professionally by so
many different types of performers.

I think Berlin inherited the mantel from Foster, and perhaps there's
no one else.
  

    
>>But yesterday's post about "God Bless America" got me thinking that
perhaps Berlin was the greatest songwriter of all time.

What a fascinating thing to see you write! I would have guessed that
was your inclination from the start. What was the shift, exactly?

(As a personal aside, I'm always leery of the "best ____ ever" mantle.
How can one compare Berlin to, say, Lennon and McCartney?)
  

    
I was just thinking the same thing, Angie. "Greatest" whatever seems
like a pretty useless title, all things considered. Greatest to whom?
There are billions of people in China and/or India who likely don't
know a single Berlin melody or lyric. Berlin's greatness falls within a
specific realm. He was undoubtedly one of the greatest writers of
classic-form, AABA songs. 
  

    
I agree that "best " and "greatest" are essentially meaningless titles
and/or descriptions, but when it comes to popular music, Berlin has
got a claim on whatever the crown. He wrote the most popular song of
all time, if one accepts the designation of records sold, sheet music
sales, number of recordings, etc. The song: "White Christmas." 

When you combine that with the unofficial national anthem (and Berlin
strenuously resisted any one declaring it the official), and a host of
the tunes that people sing everyday, he's certainly near the top.

If there are great songwriters of this type in China or India, they
have escaped me. Which may only mean that I am not tuned to that
frequency. But one of the things that is also remarkable about Berlin
is his ubiquity. The aforementioned songs in this post, are at times,
whether we like it or not, inescapable. 

People all over the world know songs from the Berlin songbook. And not
just Americans living abroad, but throughout Europe and Asia. His
songs and his story resonate with a wide audience.

When I started my Berlin project Angie, I knew as much about Berlin as
the next person. Which is to say the general arc of his career and a
few songs. Actually, I thought I knew a few songs, but it turns out I
knew lots of songs, some of which I had not known were his.

I just felt he had the best story in 20th century popular culture and
in this age of synergy, cross platforms and new media, Berlin virtually
invented these things before radio, TV, film, records, etc. He was at
the forefront of every new media of his sixty year career. His story
tells the evolution of the popular song (in the 20th century), the
stage musical, the film musical, and so much more.

It has only been since I’ve been making appearances connected with the
book, that I have realized the breadth and depth of his popularity
with audiences of all ages, hence my late breaking epiphany.

How does he compare to Lennon and McCartney, Dylan, Hunter, Willie
Dixon, and many of his own contemporaries? Well their beauty is in the
eye of the beholder. I defer to personal preference. Berlin may be the
“greatest” but I’m not sure he is my favorite. I am not sure who may
claim to that title, it depends on the day of the week and my mood.
  

    
Not to minimize his importance, but I wonder how many of his songs will
still be universally known by all Americans within another generation or
two. It seems like the old practice of sharing music across generations is
breaking down. Sharing popular music anyway.

I'm guessing that the vast majority of under-25s know little or nothing of
the American Songbook of standards, except the ones that the singers of
their own generation discover and record.
  

    
Well, let's do talk a little further about how Berlin's work has
carried down the generations. 

I very much like the way the book is structured, David - tracing the
America, Broadway, Hollywood themes  down through the years, one to the
next and then back again. Among other things, it's a way to see the
artist, and the public he appealed to, change over the years.

Do you see consistencies in what so far have proved to be his most
timeless pieces? - and the opposite - which of his work is firmly tied
to the period from which it dates? "White Christmas" comes to mind for
me in the first category, "Alexander's Ragtime Band" in the second.

He comes across as a sturdy, feet-on-the-ground type who didn't view
himself in grandiose terms. Were there particular songs, or stretches
in his life, where he was driven to create something for the ages?

And this is a fun tease:
>>it turns out I knew lots of songs, some of which I had not known
were his.

I'll bet that's downright common, for people who know a bit about
Berlin not to attach his names to the songs they know. Any titles come
to mind that, for whatever reason, people tend not to give him credit
for?
  

    
You'll forgive me for not posting anything at the moment. I just got
back from spending the day delivering and installaing two exhibitons.
The primary is the more than 100 piece exhibiton on Berlin's Broadway
career at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts that
opens on Febraury 14th. It is coming together nicely. Today the Library
found some Alex Gard drawings of Berlin's 1933 AS THOSUANDS CHEER and
1941's LOUISIANA PURCHASE which have never been exhibited. Gard is
famous for the caricatures on the walls of Sardi's resturant.

The other show is the second part of an exhibition of Hirschfeld's
film art at the Walter Reade Theatre. This installament honors Black
History Month by featuring black performers and productions.

More soon.
  

    
For the Irving Berlin song that I think the greatest number of people
know (or at least could sing the first phrase of) without knowing who
wrote it, I would nominate "A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody".

I would be willing to wager that more people know more Rodgers and
Hammerstein songs than Irving Berlin these days, but as there's no way
to ever test that, that's just my guess. But I think it's inevitable
that one generation's popular songs are forgotten by the next
generation; it's in the nature of each new generation to see the
previous generation's popular art as corny and old-fashioned.

(And incidentally to rediscover some of the popular art of two
generations back, finding fresh meaning in what the previous generation
had dismissed as corny and old-fashioned. We just saw a major revival
of Annie Get Your Gun in which critics fell all over themselves
exclaiming how fresh it all seemed. Call Me Madam can't be too far
behind. I confidently expect that the trend will continue and in ten to
fifteen years we will see important critics and academics explaining
why Mr. President is actually a great musical far beyond the limited
comprehension of the critics of the day, and whose only flaw was being
so far ahead of its time.)
  

    

Wbile David L. is taking a break, I gotta say that I chuckled heartily at a
picture in the book of Berlin and Kate Smith, sitting at a table together.
The diminutive Berlin looks like Jerry Mahoney next to Kate.
"Lavishly illustrated" doesn't begin to describe this.  It's full of great
photos, drawings, images of memorabilia, etc.  The fact that it's a
combinaton exhibition catalog and biography did throw me for a small loop on
a few occasions when it seemed like I'd just read something in the catalog
part that was being discussed in the bio part.
  

    

Sadly, I heard today from David's brother that their mother has passed away
after a long illness.  My thoughts are with you and your family today, Dave.
  

    
I'm so sorry to hear this. My thoughts and prayers will be with you,
David.
  

    
First thank you all very much for your sympathy regarding my mother's
passing. Hirschfeld once told me you have to be smart in picking your
parents, and in that field I have excelled. I feel lucky that she had
the opportunity to see the book and exhibitions become a reality.

I will leave tomorrow for the trip back, but I hope to check into this
discussion at least once each day. The quality of the conversation is
good, and on a subject near and dear to me. Besides it may even keep my
mind off the more depressing aspects of the situation.

So,  John Ross wrote
<Not to minimize his importance, but I wonder how many of his songs
will
still be universally known by all Americans within another generation
or
two. It seems like the old practice of sharing music across
generations is
breaking down. Sharing popular music anyway.

I'm guessing that the vast majority of under-25s know little or
nothing of
the American Songbook of standards, except the ones that the singers
of
their own generation discover and record.>

I just happened to read a piece by Terry Teachout on the Beatles in
Commentary in which he wrote:
"Just as there is no longer a common culture, so there is no longer a
common style of music to which most English-speaking people listen."

This echoes what John said, and certainly rings true to me. But I do
think that songs survive despite the changing tastes in popular music.
That’s why Rod Stewart is on his fourth album of American Popular Song,
or why the Gap can use “Cheek to Cheek” in an advertising campaign.
The songs resonate. They live beyond their history, that is why they
were written and enter the ether of songs we have always known. The
songs I listed in my previous post, seem to be good candidates of ones
that will survive.

I also think a “vast majority of under-25s” don’t know much about
music or its history. I suspect many in our peer group know little
about the American songbook, the history of American folk music, or
even the history of hip hop. It is Darwinian to be sure in popular
music, but the simplicity of Berlin’s songs I think may stand the test
of time. 62 years after it was written, Berlin had a hit with a disco
version of “Puttin’ on the Ritz” by an artist called (I kid you not)
Taco. We don’t know who he is, and he was not all the important in the
scheme of things. It was the song that was the hit.
  

    
David Scott Marley wrote 
< For the Irving Berlin song that I think the greatest number of
people know (or at least could sing the first phrase of) without
knowing who wrote it, I would nominate "A Pretty Girl Is Like a
Melody".>

If I had to nominate something other that “God Bless America” or
“White Christmas”, I would nominate “There’s No Business Like Show
Business” whose title has entered the lexicon, and whose sentiments
have made it the theme song of the performing arts.

It would be difficult to see who is more popular Berlin or Rodgers and
Hammerstein, although these days they are represented by the same
office, so it may be moot. I do think that as we end the 21st century,
there is a better chance than most that some of the songs of all three
will still be sung.

CALL ME MADAM has already done yeoman’s work for the theater, by
showing audiences how important New York’s “Encore” series is. It was
the first show of the second season and all of the sudden, people
started to take notice. A recording was made of Tyne Daly in the role,
and soon the series begat Broadway productions of CHICAGO and WONDERFUL
TOWN.

As for MR. PRESIDENT, I would be very surprised if that is
re-discovered as a great show. The book is weak, and the songs just are
not up to the par of shows like MADAM and ANNIE. It’s too bad that
MISS LIBERTY, never came together, because it is a very good score, as
anyone who say concert productions in either NYC or SF this fall can
attest to.
  

    
Angie asked
<Do you see consistencies in what so far have proved to be his most
timeless pieces? - and the opposite - which of his work is firmly tied
to the period from which it dates? "White Christmas" comes to mind for
me in the first category, "Alexander's Ragtime Band" in the second.>

it’s hard to pin down what makes a song popular or timeless. I am sure
we all have songs in which we feel will live forever with us, and for
which the next person will say it doesn’t mean much for them.

 “White Christmas” became a wartime anthem as it appealed to soldiers
who longed to be home, and their loved ones who looked forward to a
return to the simple pleasures of a holiday celebrated together. Berlin
wrote his friend, the director of HOLIDAY INN, Mark Sandrich, “The
song seems to have a quality that can be applied to the world situation
as it exists today. I understand many copies are being sent to the
boys over-seas, and it is just possible, while it isn’t a war song, it
can be easily associated with it…. There are only so many of these kind
of songs in a songwriter’s system. They are the milestones, all the
others are ‘filler-ins,’ even if they become popular.” Released at
another time, it may have simply become another great Christmas song,
but circumstance made it timeless.

I think the consistency in Berlin songs come from their directness,
both in words and music. They are relatively east to sing and play, and
often times just good fun.

Now I might disagree with you that songs like "Alexander's Ragtime
Band" are period pieces. The melody line of that song always seems
fresh to me, and while it mentions ragtime, it isn’t, and the rest of
lyrics are fairly generic, and can even be viewed as timely today. What
I think is remarkable about Berlin is that even when the lyrics are
dated, the music has a freshness to it.

Angie also wrote
<He comes across as a sturdy, feet-on-the-ground type who didn't view
himself in grandiose terms. Were there particular songs, or stretches
in his life, where he was driven to create something for the ages?>

In the case of “God Bless America” he really wanted to write a song
that thanked his country. After several attempts he remembered a song
he had written 20 years earlier, dusted it off, and revised the lyric
slightly and the tune right up until the day Kate Smith sang it. Right
away he knew it was something special. So I think this is a case that
he wanted to write something for the ages. But after that, while he did
talk about writing an opera in ragtime early in his career, I think he
was content with writing hits for shows and films.
  

    
Hi, David. I'm enjoying reading this discussion immensely and the book
is gorgeous. Some thoughts on this conference and on the book:

When you talked about the Jewish influence in Berlin's work, I keep
thinking of something else, which is the use of minor keys, which seems
to come from the shtetl tradition. I don't think it's coincidence that
so many of the great popular song composers of that era, with the 
exception of Cole Porter, were Jewish --- Berlin, Kern, Arlen,
Gershwin, Rodgers, Weill, and so on --- and even later --- Marc
Blitzstein, Cy Coleman, Stephen Sondheim, Jerry Herman, Frederick
Loewe, Leonard Bernstein and on and on and on. In addition, the great
Broadway songs for Black performers, written in minor keys, all drew on
the Jewish tradition as well (the whole score for Porgy and Bess, Old
Man River, Stormy Weather). Insofar as I know, Berlin worked less in
that vein than the other composers but I think there's a hint at work
in "Let's Face the Music and Dance." Probably others, though I can't
think of any off-hand.

When I was working on a couple of Gershwin radio documentaries around
fifteen years ago, I was told that one of the reasons Berlin was noted
for his business acumen is that nothing slipped by him --- he kept
track of every scrap or royalty and was the least likely composer to
allow rights to be used without payment, and he counted every penny. I
don't remember my source on that one. 

I also wouldn't give Berlin all that much credit for writing an
integrated book musical in 1946. "Oklahoma!" had so changed the scene
that the integrated musical was already in full swing. By the time
"Annie Get Your Gun" came along, Broadway had already seen "Song of
Norway," "Bloomer Girl," "On The Town," "The Firebrand of Florence",
"Carousel, and "St. Louis Woman". Within a couple of years, even Cole
Porter was required to write a book musical, "Kiss Me Kate." I think
what what makes "Annie Get Your Gun" special is the sheer number of
great songs in the show. The recent revival on Broadway seemed more
like a live rendition of "Irving Berlin's Greatest Hits as Performed by
Bernadette Peters and Tom Wopat" than an actual book musical --- it
didn't help that Peters was horribly miscast. But given that she sang
that score --- and nailed "I Got Lost In His Arms," the one song Merman
couldn't sing --- the whole evening was heaven. I don't think the show
as a whole holds up very well compared with "Carousel" or "Kiss Me
Kate". But the music is sublime.

I had a chance to speak briefly by phone with Kitty Carlisle Hart the
other week. I asked her about Berlin, hoping to get some kind of
substance in her reply. "He was a very nice man" was all she said. Oh
well.
  

    
Richard, thank you for the compliments on the book. I appreciate them.

Now I don’t know as much as I should about the background of all the
composers you mentioned, but Berlin might have an inside track on the
“shtetl tradition” as a) he was a cantor’s son; and b) as one of the
oldest of the group mentioned, he might have been closer to it.

All the songs for black performers you mentioned were, of course,
written by Jewish composers. I wonder what you think of Eubie Blake’s
work, or Noble and Sissle’s. do you know if they were written in minor
keys.

But all of the composers you mentioned, when they wrote for Broadway,
they were writing to be popular. Creating art was a happy by product of
the experience. Now one might argue about Sondheim and Bernstein, two
who generally always shooting for something larger. Gershwin, it seems
to me, saved that type of ambition for his symphonic composition and
Porgy and Bess.

Berlin, without any formal music education, did not seem to be
thinking about minor or major keys, at least at the beginning. He
avoided the label composer, claiming to be only a songwriter, and while
that distinction might seem slight , I think it important to remember
that he was writing for crowds not critics. He might have not relied on
minor keys to the extent of others, because he was always trying to
come up a fresh angle, both in lyric and in music.

As for his business acumen, he was one of the founders of ASCAP. As a
music publisher, once he struck out n his own, he went back and bought
back all of his old copyrights. I think it is remarkable that he not
only was one of the few who worked with out a collaborator, he also ran
a very successful business publishing his work and others, and
continued to write a string of hits. He always got the good end of a
deal. And as he passed his active years, he kept even a tighter rein on
those pennies.

I don’t think Berlin should be given much credit for the integrated
musical, but he certainly rose the occasion when he needed to. The
songs in ANNIE are great and they are just right for the characters.
And “You Can’t Get a Man with A Gun” and “anything You Can Do” manage
to tell us more about the characters than any of the book.

I do agree that the 1999 revival with Peters was nice to hear, but
somewhat senseless otherwise. But I think most revivals treat the music
as greatest hits rather than an integrated part of the whole. It is
almost as if they stop the action to wind up the music box when a song
comes on.

But I disagree that it doesn’t hold up as well. Having seen revivals
of all three, on an entertainment level, they seem the dame. CAROUSEL
might have the better book, but when it comes to songs, they are all
great.

Finally Kitty Carlisle Hart is one of the wonders of the world. 95,
still singing and entertaining. Now no one will ever buy a record of
hers, but she has the type of presence that can still fill a theater.
The last of the dying breed. She doesn’t remember as much as she used
to, but don’t put anything past her. She remembers more than you think.
  

    
David, thanks for the detailed response.

I don't know about the work of Blake or Noble and Sissle, but rather
to look at American black folk music and spirituals. Gershwin worked
hard to authenticate his music for Porgy & Bess by spending time with
the black inhabitants of the islands off the Carolinas. He was
well-accepted there, which was unusual for a white man in the 1930s.
His musical choices were certainly based on their folk music, but that
doesn't discount his relationship to his own ethnic tradition. I think
what Gershwin discovered, and what Arlen and others probably learned
from Gershwin, is the relationship between American Black music and the
music of Jews from Eastern Europe, that is, the sorrowful sound of the
minor keys. 

Kern was born in 1885, Berlin in 1888, then skip a decade and George
Gershwin, Harold Arlen, Vincent Youmans, Marc Blitzstein, Arthur
Schwartz, Jule Styne, and Richard Rodgers were all born within seven
years of one another, between 1898 and 1905, and Ira Gershwin was born
in 1896, so I wouldn't necessarily say Berlin was that much closer to
shtetl life than the others, cantor father notwithstanding. They were
all the children of immigrants or immigrants themselves. Also, insofar
as I have been able to find out, all were secular Jews with little
interest in the religion, but they were all familiar with the Jewish
liturgical tradition. They were also all familiar with the Tin Pan
Alley tradition, and many began their careers as song pluggers. I just
find it interesting that all of these great songwriters, and so many
others, were Jewish and must have had a working knowledge of Jewish
music, both in the religion and in the folk music. 

As for creating art, you're right: none of them considered their work
particularly artistic, which is one of the reasons why Gershwin worked
so hard to achieve success in the field of "serious" music, and why
according to all his biographers, Bernstein was so schizophrenic when
it came to moving between Broadway on the one hand and his work as
serious composer and conductor on the other. An indication of the lack
of "seriousness" in the songwriting field is that fact that as soon as
a show closed in the pre-Oklahoma era, the arrangements and
orchestrations were often thrown out. This is true for hits as well as
flops, but mostly for flops --- so much so that several Gershwin songs
are permanently lost. I can't find the exact date off-hand, but back in
the '80s, some cartons were discovered in a warehouse in Paramus, New
Jersey which contained the original orchestrations to several Gershwin
shows, including the flop "Pardon My English" as well as the 1927
version of "Strike Up The Band", along with other material. This was a
cause for major celebration. So much material, even into the 1960s, is
lost because nobody figured anyone would want to save it. This isn't
that unusual: no one bothered to save the outtakes to "The Magnificent
Ambersons" either, which is the holy grail of film restorers.

Insofar as Kitty Carlisle Hart is concerned, I have no doubt that you
are right. I spoke with her in a 15 minute phone interview in which she
did not seem particularly interested in yielding any new information.
But as I've seen from other interviews, her mind can be very sharp when
she wants it to be. It's difficult, though, when you ask any question
beyond the old standbys, and her response is a quick, "I don't
remember." I rarely do phone interviews, and it's possible I was
sufficiently off my game because of that. So the fault could well lie
with my inability to break through whatever walls she has erected
around herself. I doubt if I'll ever air it, though should I ever
finish my second Gershwin documentary, I'll use some scraps in it. Some
of it was pretty funny. At the end, I asked if there was anything in
American life these days that particularly disturbed her, hoping for a
comment about the current political scene. She said she didn't
understand why girls walked around showing their navels, that it wasn't
attractive.
  

    
Where does Burt Williams fit into all of this? He was a Black performer who
performed in blackface, and he was one of the Ziegfeld stars. But what I
don't know is if he influenced the Broadway songwriting world as well as the
Vaudeville and Ziegfeld-style revues.

As far as enduring songs, it seems like "Alexander's Ragtime Band" might hav
acheived folk song status.
  

    
Incidentally, Noble Sissel was one person, and was Eubie Blake's
collaborator. 
  

    
Richard, thank you for your post which was rich in detail and insight.

You write
< Kern was born in 1885, Berlin in 1888, then skip a decade and George
Gershwin, Harold Arlen, Vincent Youmans, Marc Blitzstein, Arthur
Schwartz, Jule Styne, and Richard Rodgers were all born within seven
years of one another, between 1898 and 1905, and Ira Gershwin was born
in 1896, so I wouldn't necessarily say Berlin was that much closer to
shtetl life than the others, cantor father notwithstanding.>

While not splitting too fine of a hair, I do think that Berlin may
have indeed been closer to shtetl life as an immigrant and cantor’s
son. The decade separating him from many of the other composers was a
huge divide in terms of acceptance and assimilation. Rodgers grew up
uptown in a middle class neighborhood, the son already settled parents.
He had a rich musical education. 

Kerm was born in NYC, grew up e. 56th Street and was encouraged to
take musical lessons by his mother. Arlen was born and raised in
Buffalo (also the son of a cantor). Gershwin was born in the city, and
his parents bought a piano for he and his brother to play. Youmans and
many of the others were born in NYC or Philadelphia, etc.

Berlin came to this country at five, lived in tenement, was on the
street at 13, and “discovered” songwriting (see Post #23). One reason
his story is held up as a ‘rags to riches” story” is that he really did
start in rags. I don’t think any of the others mentioned could say
that their first memory was their home being burned down in a pogrom.
So shtetl life was not something he heard about, but lived. It is
remarkable though how much all of them drew on the Jewish tradition in
their work. 

It is hard to believe that so much of the great Broadway musicals were
thrown away when the shows closed. The same is true with visual art
for publication. No one thought this work had any secondary value.

Two or three years ago I came across a treasure trove of
orchestrations by one of the great Broadway orchestrators, Don Walker.
His family had kept, but didn’t think any one was interested in the
material. I convinced them there were many people, both musicians and
historians, that would find worthwhile material in the collection, and
introduced them to the Library of Congress. It is now saved.

As a curator, I find that the next decade of blockbuster exhibitions
will not be the Impressionist, but perhaps popular culture shows. All
the ephemera, manuscripts, etc that bring this work to life is what
excites audiences today. No matter how great a painting, few people
have spent a night with that type of work, compared to the number of
people who spent an evening with Gene Kelly in SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN.
While it troubles “museum professionals” I often find once the show is
mounted, they understand the impact of the work and how it connects
with a wider audience.

In this sense they come the long way round, what Berlin and his
contemporaries understood. That art was important, but audiences were
just as important. Berlin was unembarrassed by his success on the
sentiments of his songs. They really were what America wanted to hear.