All-but-forgotten today, Eubie Blake was a black music
pioneer who participated in 100 years of African American history. Yes, he
lived to be 100, and I met him in 1978 to do an article that would appear on
his 95th birthday. The son of
former slaves, he was playing piano in a Baltimore brothel at age 15, and at 95
he was giving Johnny Carson fits on the Tonight Show. And in between, he changed the course of
American music as a ragtime pioneer, composer for the musical stage, and by his
strong influence on stride piano, the style that bridged the gap between
ragtime and a wealth of later jazz piano – a contribution for which he seldom
gets credit.
Eubie
(no one ever called him anything else) was a spry 94-year-old who liked my car,
an aging high-rider because of its easy access, and I became his designated
ride whenever he was in L.A. I drove, he
talked. A lot! And he had plenty to brag about, whether it
was beating Jelly Roll Morton at pool, opening the first all-black musical on
Broadway, or testifying before Congress on behalf of copyright holders. He told me his father always said “Never mess
in white folks business,” yet in 1922, with pressure from his music publisher,
he was admitted to ASCAP – one of its first black members. “See, I was somebody then,” he
smiled. He was already known for many
original rags when he teamed up with lyricist Noble Sissle to write five
Broadway shows from which came many all-time standards including “I’m Just Wild
About Harry” and “Memories of You.”
And
he never let me forget that all his accomplishments should be measured from his
starting point -- a Baltimore ghetto and a fifth grade education. He said that long after he quit playing
“bawdy houses,” he still thought the first word in that description was
“body.” He related that with a chuckle,
but there was a lot of sensitivity (and this was his phrase) “to not be
ignorant around white folks.” Spelling
and grammar had been a life-long learning project for him. At age 66, he graduated from NYU with a
degree in musical composition. At dinner
(if you didn’t head him off) he’d explain – at length and with great enthusiasm
– the Schillinger System of composition, even writing bits of music on the
tablecloth. And, trust me, it’s too deep
for mere mortals. He went on to receive
honorary doctorates from five universities, the Presidential Medal of Freedom
from Ronald Reagan, a Grammy nomination for his 1969 album, The 86 Years of
Eubie Blake, a U.S. postage stamp with his picture on it, and lots
more. All that from a Baltimore ghetto
and a fifth grade education!
Even
at 94 Eubie had it all together. What a
charmer he was! A little man with a big
personality and a joyous legacy to share. Of course, his natural habitat was
the piano keyboard, and much of what Eubie played delighted him, so he cheered
himself on. Loudly, sometimes! Audiences loved him, whether it was millions
watching on TV, or fifty in a small club.
On nights that he didn’t have a gig, he wanted to go where the piano
action was, and he was welcomed everywhere as piano royalty and shown right to
the keyboard. One night an over-served
matron, who hadn’t caught Eubie’s introduction came by afterward to shake his
hand and say he was “really good.” She
asked if he’d ever played professionally.
Our hero smiled charmingly and said, “A little, Darlin’.” Nobody that cool should ever be
forgotten! Fortunately, YouTube has some
Eubie Blake videos, so you can see for yourself.
©2012