Institute for Studies In American Music
Conservatory of Music, Brooklyn College of the City University of New York
NEWSLETTER


Volume XXXIII

 


No. 1       Fall 2003

Inside This Issue:

Music of Williamsburg by Carol J. Oja

The Germania Musical Society by Nancy Newman

Music of Carl Ruggles by Stephen Slottow

Scorsese's Narratives of Blues Discovery: Review by Ray Allen

Eric Porter's What is This Thing Called Jazz?: Review by Salim Washington

Roger Sessions and Arthur Berger: Review by Anton Vishio

Sondheim's Bounce: Review by Gayle Sherwood and Jeffrey Magee

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Filming the Music of Williamsburg with Alan Lomax
By Carol J. Oja

In a twist on Tip O’Neill’s famous quip, “All politics is local,” a seminar last spring at the College of William and Mary combed sources in its own backyard to uncover a piece of hometown history with national resonance. Fusing archival research and fieldwork, the class project raised a number of provocative questions: what motivated the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation in 1960 to hire the well-known folk-music collector Alan Lomax to work on a film titled Music of Williamsburg, which was produced to give tourists a sense of daily life in mid-eighteenth-century Virginia? Who were the traditional musicians pictured in the film? Almost all were African American, and their performances sizzle. Yet none were named in the credits. What political agenda might have energized the film, given its attempt to present a realistic portrayal of the slave experience? After all, this was 1960, a time when segregation remained firm in Virginia; schools were being closed in defiance of Brown v. Board of Education; and the state’s infamous “Racial Integrity Law” of 1924 that forbid interracial marriage was still fully in force (it was declared unconstitutional in1967).
      What follows is a glimpse into the fascinating story unearthed by a cluster of graduate students and undergraduates, some in music, others in American Studies. We were lucky enough to have Cary Carson, Vice President of Research at Colonial Williamsburg, sit in on the class and lend generous assistance. Kip Lornell also consulted with us, helping to shape fieldwork strategies. The performers in the film turned out to include luminaries from the world of traditional music—especially Bessie Jones, John Davis, the Georgia Sea Island Singers, and banjo-player/fiddler Hobart Smith.


      Music of Williamsburg, directed by Sidney Meyers, was designed to combine historical recreation with a fictional narrative. In many ways, it appears dated, even quaint, yet the quality of the workmanship is high. Our seminar focused on the musicians, however, rather than aesthetic criticism of the film. The main story involves a flirtation between a “Miller’s Daughter,” played by Pamela Tiffin (who the next year launched a Hollywood career with Summer and Smoke, followed by Billy Wilder’s One, Two, Three), and a “Sailor,” played by Christopher Cary (who made a career largely in supporting roles). As the couple banter with one another, they do so against the backdrop of an imaginary day in Williamsburg in 1768. At the opening, the sailor walks up from the James River singing “Johnny Todd,” an early English ballad. Next a group of African Americans appears in a cart performing “Moses, Moses.” The film soon cuts to historic Wren Chapel at the College of William and Mary, where a psalm is sung. Then follows a scene of slaves in the field, rhythmically hoeing the soil as they sing “Emma, You’s My Darlin’." Throughout, the scene shifts steadily between European colonists and African slaves. While whites dominate this integrated view, a crucial point is made by not caricaturing blacks but attempting to treat them with respect. Toward the end of the film, two long segments focus on a production of The Beggar’s Opera, attended by the Sailor and Miller’s Daughter. Meanwhile, extensive footage captures a frolic that goes on simultaneously in the slave quarters.
      Two musical directors were hired to handle the different repertories. Parlor, church, and theater music for the white colonists was “orchestrated and directed from eighteenth century scores” by Gene Forrell of New York City; The Beggar’s Opera was chosen because it had been performed in Williamsburg in 1768. “Such authorities as Carleton Sprague Smith and Gilbert Chase,” stated an unsigned précis of the project, “have been approached about the proposed content of the Music Film and have enthusiastically endorsed the plan” (quotations from “Notes” [1960]).
      Lomax coordinated the traditional music, seeking vestiges of colonial practice in the contemporary world. He was combining fieldwork with historic re-enactment. Like Forrell, Lomax did considerable research, as outlined in a letter written to Arthur Smith, producer of the film, where he detailed sources consulted, from Hans Nathan’s articles about minstrelsy in Musical Quarterly, to “correspondents at the Ford Foundation Jazz Research Project at Tulane,” to historic travel accounts, to interviews by “WPA field workers . . . as late as 1930 (!)” [his exclamation point]. After all, this was more than a decade before publication of Eileen Southern’s The Music of Black Americans (1971) or Dena Epstein’s Sinful Tunes and Spirituals (1977). The biggest challenge for Lomax was the “slave sequence” at the end, as he dubbed the frolic, which was filmed at night over an eight-hour period.
For the film, Lomax scouted out musicians from across the southeastern United States, building on his longstanding contacts and taking a fieldwork trip, sponsored by Colonial Williamsburg, during the month prior to filming. The musicians hired included Bessie Jones and the Spiritual Singers of Coastal Georgia (later known as the Georgia Sea Island Singers), Nathaniel Rahmings (drummer from the Bahamas by way of Miami), Ed Young (fife player from Como, Mississippi), Prince Ellis (jawbone player from Tidewater Virginia), and the Bright Light Quartet from Weems, Virginia (on the Northern Neck). Interestingly, in light of the issue of miscegenation that defined Virginia’s racial landscape in 1960, the fiddler and banjo player in the slave scenes was white—Hobart Smith, legendary among old-time musicians as one of the great virtuosos of Virginia’s southwest mountains. Smith plays in the frolic scene but is not shown on screen. He does appear earlier in the film, though, wearing eighteenth-century garb and playing a fiddle in a barn.
      Of the many intriguing issues that emerge from Lomax’s work on the film, several will be singled out here, including the relation of this film to Lomax’s release of Georgia Sea Island Songs on New World Records; Bessie Jones’s unexpected family tie to Williamsburg; and the film’s racial dynamic as emblematic of the Civil Rights Movement.
For many of us teaching American music, Lomax’s recording of Georgia Sea Island Songs, issued on New World Records in 1977, remains a crucial sound document for exploring African retentions in the New World, spirituals, or the glories of Bessie Jones and the singers she worked with. On that disc, Lomax included three vocal groups, labeled “A,” “B,” and “C,” which featured different configurations of the Sea Island Singers. As Lomax made clear in the liner notes, Group “B” was recorded when he went to the island “looking for musicians to perform the black music in a film about Colonial Williamsburg.” He dates this as 1961, but it must have been the previous year, since that was when the film was shot. Group “C,” meanwhile, was recorded on location at Colonial Williamsburg in 1960, and, as a result includes musicians who were not part of the usual vocal ensemble. These were Nat Rahmings on drums, Ed Young on fife, and, most interestingly, Hobart Smith on banjo and guitar. Even though Lomax cites Smith as being among the performers, I would guess that many listeners, except for specialists in Appalachian traditions, never paused over the fact that a white musician from the Virginia mountains performs with the Georgia Sea Island Singers in this canonic release of their music. Not only that, the Sea Islanders are joined by African Americans from Mississippi and the Bahamas, adding further complexity to the geographic mix. Smith’s story is especially interesting given his own musical legacy of learning aspects of claw hammer banjo technique from an African American player named John Greer (Cohen 2001). The tunes performed by Group “C” include “Reg’lar, Reg’lar Rollin’ Under,” “See Aunt Dinah,” “Beulah Land,” and “The Titanic,” only the first of which turns up in the film. Some of the other material recorded in Williamsburg was subsequently released on Lomax’s Southern Journey series.
      Another tidbit encountered by the class had to do with the unexpected lineages that shape history. Lomax recruited singers from the Sea Islands because he believed they “provided a pocket of Negro culture that has remained relatively isolated and undisturbed (until recently) since the Revolution” (“Teacher’s Manual”). What he didn’t realize was that one of Bessie Jones’s grandfathers had been a slave in Williamsburg, so her tie to historic Virginia was genuine. While the film was being made, Jones and other visiting musicians, along with a number of Colonial Williamsburg employees, were invited to a birthday party for a white baby. At some point, Jones was asked to sing a lullaby. When she stood up to do so, Jones later recalled, she suddenly found herself “pouring” out the story “like it was ice out of a can” of how her grandfather had been a slave in Williamsburg, before moving to Georgia. “Wasn’t a soul [in the room] saying a word but me,” Jones said, “and I just told them like it was” (Jones 1983, 51-52).
      An image of Bessie Jones standing up to speak at a mixed-race gathering in Virginia in 1960 illuminates an unspoken political agenda behind the film: integrating the narrative of the American past. A cluster of personalities was responsible for this, including Arthur L. Smith, then Director of the Audio-Visual Department at Colonial Williamsburg; Thad W. Tate, a historian on Colonial Williamsburg’s staff who was author of The Negro in Eighteenth-Century Williamsburg, first distributed in-house by Colonial Williamsburg in 1957; and Stanley Croner, scriptwriter and associate director for the film (Tate 1957 [1965]). In a telephone interview with my students, Croner acknowledged that a primary goal of the film was to include slaves “as real people.” Focusing on eighteenth-century musical practices provided a safe space for exploring racial history, as Croner remembered, yielding a “political undertone that is not immediately obvious.” But the intent was clear. “Hey fellas,” Croner recalled the film as declaring, “in the eighteenth century there were lots of different people, other than the aristocrats . . . that lived in the town of Williamsburg” (Croner 2003). Furthermore, the film’s director, Sidney Meyers, had a history of producing films that explored race and class. The Quiet One (1949) and The Savage Eye (1959), like Music of Williamsburg, combined drama and documentary, while Edge of the City (1957) was straight drama that provided an early role for Sydney Poitier.
      Press releases for Music of Williamsburg made its racial content clear. “In order to portray the important contributions of the Negro race to the nation’s heritage,” reads one from 1962, “folk music consultant Alan Lomax selected 22 individuals from Norfolk and Weems, Va., Memphis, Tenn., St. Simon’s Island, Ga., and Miami, Fla., all with native talent but no professional training, to perform as dancers and musicians in the film.” As of 1962, the film had been shown on “approximately 150 [national] telecasts since its release to television stations in August 1962 ” (Colonial Williamsburg Foundation 1962). This was a time before public-history sites had begun an aggressive initiative to modify their programs to address both social hierarchy and racial issues. For Colonial Williamsburg, it was a landmark step in moving toward an integrated public-program agenda.

Harvard University
(formerly of the College of William and Mary)

Sources CitedCohen, John. 2001. Liner Notes to Hobart Smith: Blue Ridge Legacy. Rounder Records.
[Colonial
Williamsburg Foundation. 1962.] “For Immediate Release” [press release]. March 12. Archives of Colonial Williamsburg Foundation.
Colonial
Williamsburg Foundation. 1960. Music of Williamsburg. Re-released on video and distributed by The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, P.O. Box 1776, Williamsburg, VA 23187-1776.
Croner, Stanley. 2003. Telephone interview with
Erin Krutko, Christian Olsen, Graham Savage, and Patrick Shaffner. Interview tape in Archives of Swem Library, College of William and Mary.
Jones, Bessie. 1983. For the Ancestors: Autobiographical Memories. Collected and edited by John Stewart.
Urbana: University of Illinois Press.
Lomax, Alan. 1960. Letter to Arthur Smith. 26 March. Archives of Colonial
Williamsburg Foundation, Williamsburg, Virginia. Carbon in Alan Lomax Archive, New York City.
“ Notes” [1960]. “Notes about MUSIC OF
WILLIAMSBURG.” Typescript. Archives of Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, Williamsburg, Virginia.
Tate, Thad W. 1957 [1965]. The Negro in Eighteenth-Century
Williamsburg. Williamsburg, Virginia: Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. Issued first in typescript and then formally published.
“ Teachers Manual.” 1960. “Teachers Manual for Music of Williamsburg: A 29-minute motion picture in sound and color produced by Colonial Williamsburg, Inc.” Archives of Colonial
Williamsburg Foundation, Williamsburg, Virginia.

Students in the seminar included Peggy Aarlien, Anna Gardner, Erin Gordon, Erin Krutko, Christian Olsen, Brandon Polk, Sarah Reeder, Graham Savage, Patrick Shaffner, and Victoria Swoap. The sources drawn upon in this article came to light through their hard work. Special thanks to the John D. Rockefeller Jr. Library, Colonial Williamsburg Foundation.

Music of Williamsburg: A Student’s Perspective

In the spring of 2003, I was part of a seminar at the College of William and Mary that tackled an original research project focusing on the relatively obscure film, Music of Williamsburg. Over the course of the semester we learned how to navigate a large and potentially daunting undertaking that demanded archival research, oral history, and searching for lost recordings and photographs. We tried to situate the film in a variety of contexts, exploring topics such as American vernacular musical traditions, song-collection practices, copyright concerns, museum interpretation, fieldwork and oral-history techniques, and race relations in the 1950s
and 1960s.
      The first half of the semester was dedicated to amassing as much material about the film as possible. We surveyed records at the Colonial Williamsburg Archives and the Alan Lomax Collection in New York City, including film scripts, production books, pay ledgers, and correspondence among Lomax, the museum, and the performers. In the process, we began getting a sense about how the film was produced, how Lomax searched for performers, and how the local racial climate affected the project.
      At the same time, we were continually refining a list of persons to interview. Initially, we combed through archival materials and talked with museum administrators. Next we contacted a local newspaper, asking if they would run a feature story about the class and the film. As a result, a number of longtime Williamsburg residents contacted us with memories about production of the film. Although many performers in the film are no longer alive, we were able to speak with Stanley Croner (scriptwriter for the film), Thad W. Tate (historian for the film), and Rex Ellis (Vice President of Colonial Williamsburg’s historic area). In addition, folk musician Mike Seeger, a lifelong acquaintance of Lomax who happened to be spending a semester on campus as artist-in-residence, contributed his thoughts.
With help from Colonial Williamsburg’s staff, the class also discovered some lost treasures related to the film. Vice President of Research Cary Carson located audio recordings that captured rehearsals as well as material performed a few days after filming was completed. Graduate student Peggy Aarlien worked with visual-resource librarians at Colonial Williamsburg’s Rockefeller Library to uncover more than 500 photographs documenting the film’s production. The most interesting images by far were taken by Lomax himself, giving a behind-the-scenes glimpse of African American musicians at work.
      Halfway through the semester, the seminar broke stride to discuss what a culminating project might be. A variety of possibilities were explored. At first, we wanted to produce a public website where visitors could listen to music clips, access primary research materials, and read our interpretations of the film. Time closed in on these ambitions, so instead we ended up producing a CD featuring excerpts from Lomax’s audio recordings, accompanied by extensive liner notes. Included are robust drum performances by Nat Rahmings with Ed Young on fife and Prince Ellis on jawbone; crisp gospel renditions by the Bright Light Gospel Quartet (including tunes such as “Rollin’ Through This Unfriendly World,” “Hand Me Down the Silver Trumpet, Gabriel,” and “Ezekiel Saw the Wheel”); and several large-group performances by the Georgia Sea Island Singers accompanied by Rahmings (drum), Young (cane fife), and Hobart Smith (banjo). Lomax’s speaking voice is heard as well, counting out cues for performers. Some of these performances were included on Lomax’s 1961 record series, A Southern Journey, and on his 1977 release for New World Records, Georgia Sea Island Songs. Most of the material, however, remains unissued, and soon we hope to interest a commercial company in releasing it.
      By the end of the semester, we had learned to craft a coherent cultural narrative from a broad array of sources. Equally important, we had uncovered a fascinating story about the intersection of music and race in Williamsburg, Virginia during a pivotal period in our nation’s struggle for civil rights.

Erin Krutko
College
of William and Mary