Sedalia MO Scott Joplin Ragtime Festival: Day 2

Day two of the Sedalia Scott Joplin Ragtime Festival has come and gone and, as with most day twos, some of the glow wears off and you begin to discover little irritations. Our room at the Bothwell is a wonderful example of the expectations of the 20’s traveler, but it’s also a reminder I’m not a 20’s traveler. For one, the bed has proven to be the equivalent of sleeping on one of those bags stuntmen fall into when diving from the top of a building. For travel-weary, aching backs it’s less than ideal. So, today my post will be short, since I’m nearly falling asleep on the keyboard, I just hope the lousy internet connection uploads this in less than an hour.

This morning we went to a seminar entitled The Ragtime Life where ragtime master Max Morath. Max may be familiar, he’s been banging the ivories longer than I’ve been alive and worked with the great Eubie Blake, wrote and starred in the PBS American Experience series, and if none of that rings any bells he did play piano on one show of someone you might know – one Captain Kangaroo. His description of what it meant to be there when ragtime went from being “old timey music” nobody listened to, to the soundtrack of The Sting was really eye opening. I thought being a musician was something that just happened, an outgrowth of being really talented and driven, but there is a lot of compromise and plenty of trials along the way.

Next I got to watch Kelly and Bob interviewed about their experience at the first Joplin-fest back in 1974. Nice playing paparazzi for that event, it was fun to listen to both of them talk through their part at the beginning of this festival.

Well, now it’s off to bed. Tomorrow is our day away from seminars. We’re heading to Bothwell Lodge for a tour of the mansion and a little hiking to compensate for the cookies and barbecue we’ve been indulging in over this week.

Welcome to Scott Joplin's Missouri

Today I’m writing from Hotel Bothwell in Sedalia, MO – Queen of the Prairie and one-time home of ragtime genius Scott Joplin. For my dear Kelly, this is a trip down memory lane. Her parents have been ragtime enthusiasts for decades and they brought her to Sedalia as a child to attend the annual Scott Joplin Ragtime Festival. For me, on the other hand, it’s another first and further proof that the proverbial old dog can, in fact, learn a trick or two, new or otherwise. I knew I liked Joplin the first time I saw The Sting and heard Easy Winners, Solace, and The Entertainer. Thirty-some years have passed and I’m still discovering things I love about the culture, music, and fashion of the ragtime era. So, when Kelly suggested we travel to Sedalia for what might be one last Joplin Festival with her parents, there was no way I could say “no”.

We set off from Indy this morning at an hour that really doesn’t qualify as early, rolling out of town around seven o’clock and clearing the city before rush hour was over in the company of rain. The trip west, at least across the planes of Illinois was uneventful in spite of Google Maps best efforts to convince us Sedalia, MO is located in Tennessee. We eventually sorted out our route and arrived at Hotel Bothwell by four o’clock, only shortly before the streets were taken in for the evening.

The Bothwell opened in 1927, a classy seven story hotel in a small town with all the modern conveniences and, supposedly, it’s haunted…so we may be sharing our room. That remains to be seen. What I can say is staying in a room from the 20’s puts you in touch with just how overboard our expectations and addiction to gadgetry has gotten in our modern age. It’s a room that a queen-sized bed makes feel crowded. Back when the hotel opened the average traveler would have one, maybe two bags relying on the in-house laundry service to keep him in clothes, they would have slept on a twin bed, and had no computer or cell phone to plug in to the wall…in fact, phones were in the lobby or in wall sconces in the hallways.

I killed a little time walking around the town square, taking in the sights around the courthouse and trying to imagine what the town must have looked like in Joplin’s day. He’d played the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893, but by 1894 he was living in a tiny Midwestern town that couldn’t offer him the professional opportunities he would have in the big city. Now the courtyard has a memorial to the soldiers who took part in World Ward I, a statue of a dough boy with bayonet and grenade, a war that didn't end until after Joplin's death. Now there's a Howitzer from World War II and boots and a M16 from Vietnam. All around the courthouse were the relics of war, yet nothing of the man who helped create a style of music that's influenced everything from bluegrass and country to rock and rap.

Afternoon turned to evening and we rested from the long drive for a while and then walked a block to the Liberty Theater for the night’s concert and heard some of the best ragtime pianists around; listened to tunes like Easy Winners, Black Lightning Cakewalk, and American Beauty; and generally had a great time. Tomorrow, dancing and ragtime dance lessons, more music, and more pictures.

The Scandalous Tango

I don't write about my passion for dancing often enough. I convinced my wife, Kelly, to take up tripping the light fantastic almost ten years ago after a weekend's old movie binge. After seeing a few dozen smoky supper clubs with smartly dressed folks dining and dancing to the swing of Benny Goodman or Cab Calloway, I'd pretty much punched my own dance ticket and we started taking lessons that same year. Later I'd find out Kelly had thought (and maybe hoped) this would be a passing fad and that I'd kick the jitterbug after I found out how much work it was to learn dance. Coming up on an decade later and we've only expanded the sorts of venues and music we call our own.

For those in the know, we started pretty much in the same way as everyone else who goes to one of the big, industrial dance complexes for their instruction. We got a good teacher who we really loved and we started out with American Ballroom's version of East Coast Swing, Rumba, Waltz, and Foxtrot.  It took us a year to get pretty good - good enough that we started asking a simple question, what did we really want to get from dance anyway? The answer is, like most things in life, complicated. We wanted fun, we didn't want to compete or medal or fulfill anyone else's definition of "good dancing", but we wanted to keep learning and growing. So, at the three year mark we made the controversial decision to drop the Ballroom Waltz and Foxtrot neither of which felt right to us. We justified this, thinking we just were "swing dancers" and should focus on that dance alone.

Now, ten years into dancing, we understand that it wasn't that we didn't like the Waltz and Foxtrot, we simply didn't like the Ballroom Waltz and Foxtrot. You see, as a culture we've become so disconnected with dance that we assume there's really only one Waltz, one Foxtrot, and one of every sort of dance and furthermore that the one right way to do any of these dances is the way you'll see on some schmaltzy, staged, reality show like Dancing with the Stars or Strictly Ballroom. Don't get me wrong, Ballroom dance is legit and if you're happy with it, more power to you, but it's important to realize that not only isn't Ballroom the only way to dance, it's not even the original.

Before Irene and Vernon Castle began the quest to "civilize" dance in the early 1900's, every region had its own collection of dances, many having evolved from similar dances in nearby regions. Fads rolled across the country, like the "animal dances" of the ragtime era, and you were likely to have learned to dance in elementary school and polished your style by picking up moves from relatives and friends. The resulting dance world was a wild, mish-mash of styles and steps that often left societies mavens aghast and offended with they perceived as the bawdiness and downright immorality of youth culture.

A quote from the preface of the 1917 book Dance Mad or The Dances of the Day captures the general attitude of those who would dare be creative on the dance floor, "Some rising young dancer stumbles on to a new step, while practicing; he teaches it to some innocent girl; of course she asks, What is it? Then the villain thinks quickly of a name; his mind instantly recalls some slang phrase he has heard while making the rounds, with no sense of shame he calls it by the new (?) name, regardless of how degrading or ridiculous." The turn of the 20th century was the era of ragtime and the scandal of "animal dances."

As far as the scions of good taste were concerned, the Turkey Trot, the Grizzly Bear, and the Bunny Hug were a bona fied sign of the impending collapse of American society and the Apocalypse couldn't be far behind. Suddenly young people were...touching...even embracing in public! The dances were banned in cities across the country and there is some evidence that fears of the Turkey Trot might have led Woodrow Wilson to cancel his inaugural ball in 1913. In jurisdictions across the land, from rural Kansas to New York City, you could land in jail for any of a number of "lewd and suggestive" dances. Heck, in Cincinnati, Catholic bishops told their flocks that they would not be forgiven for the sin of dancing the Turkey Trot. Enter Vernon and Lillian Castle.

The Castles chief contribution to dancing was to popularize a formalized style of dance roughly equivalent to what we'd call Ballroom dancing today. Gone were the hugs, silliness, and creative interpretation, and in was a system that endorsed one "right" way to do a few dances that were acceptable for social and public dancing.  Take a quick look at the difference. First you've got an example of the dance too risqué for President Wilson, the Turkey Trot, followed by Lillian and Vernon Castle performing their own Castle Walk.

Does one of these look more fun than the other? Well, though having too much fun in public was one reason the uptight wanted to ban many dances, there was a far more sinister reason and it mainly had to do with race and class.

America, the great mixing pot of the world, has long had trouble practicing what it preaches and that shortcoming extended (and probably still extends) to the dance floor. As far back as the 18th century, British cultural mavens were decrying the Waltz as "... the indecent foreign dance called the Waltz was introduced (we believe for the first time) at the English court on Friday last … it is quite sufficient to cast one’s eyes on the voluptuous intertwining of the limbs and close compressor on the bodies in their dance, to see that it is indeed far removed from the modest reserve which has hitherto been considered distinctive of English females. So long as this obscene display was confined to prostitutes and adulteresses, we did not think it deserving of notice; but now that it is attempted to be forced on the respectable classes of society by the civil examples of their superiors, we feel it a duty to warn every parent against exposing his daughter to so fatal a contagion." In America, World War I meant Johnny wasn't only exposed to trench warfare in Europe, but he also got to experience one or two French clubs and dance in ways deemed immoral and indecent back home. He likely heard black musicians playing syncopated tunes by performers like Josephine Baker, Django Reinhardt, and Sidney Bechet. They came home wanting to drink and play away the hidden pains of war and having a penchant for forbidden music.

But back home segregation kept whites separated from African American and Latin American performers and their music. Old taboo dances like the Fox Trot were updated to make them a little more jazzy, but it would take the final overreaching of the moralists to really bring African rhythms and syncopation to a broader and whiter audience. Prohibition aimed at eliminating the vice of drink from the land, but all it really accomplished was driving drinking underground. Gang-run speakeasies featured  African American musicians like Louis Armstrong, Bix Beiderbecke, and King Oliver. Every move to tighten moral control resulted in an equal backlash by youth culture: skirts got shorter, women bobbed their hair, men donned Harvard bags, slang became more outlandish, and dance got closer, more outlandish, and sexier. By the time World War II commenced, the proverbial cat was out of the bag and people were dancing the Lindy Hop and Jitterbug in Harlem on a Friday night.

And that brings us back to where I started, my own dancing. After experiencing the Ballroom version of the Fox Trot, Waltz, and (eventually) Tango, Kelly and I came to the decision that we wanted to learn something different. Just last year we began taking lessons in Cross-Step Waltz (a version that was common during the American Civil War), the Jazz-Age Fox Trot, and most recently a 20's era Valetino-style  Tango. In the coming year I'll try to give updates on what it's like learning these dances and our progress.

Bonus for Bee Day - The Bumble Bee Characteristic Rag (1909)

I thought I'd do the bees up right today. Harry Tierney was born on May 21, 1890 in one of those towns that usually only shows up in Loony Toons, Perth Amboy, New Jersey. The Bumble Bee Characteristic Rag was Tierney's first composition, written in 1909 while he was working as a composer in London. Many of his later compositions featured in Ziegfeld's Follies and he has the distinction of having one of the most successful Broadway hits of his era (Irene). His 1927 Rio Rita became one of RKO's first silver-screen musicals and it was followed by movie recreations of his Kid Boots, Dixiana, and Half Shot at Sunrise.

Tierney's covers are always striking, one day I'll get a copy of The Fanatic, his second composition posted. The Bumble Bee shows he was destined for Broadway since the bee-girl looks like a dancer from one of RKO's big musical productions. And as a bonus we've got a (admittedly midi) rendition of the piece for your enjoyment!

This Blue Moon is celebrated by a piece from E. M. Cook, composer, and one-hit wonder. Well, the internet would have you believe. about Mr. (I assume it's Mr., but it just as well may be Ms.) Cook. Cook published Blue Moon Two Step in 1913 and it's a pretty typical little rag. The tempo's nice and the syncopation good, but unlike it's namesake, it's nothing unusual. I do love the cover, though, and you can hear a MIDI of it here.

Singing for Thanksgiving Dinner - Good Gravy Rag (1913)

No Thanksgiving dinner is complete without a little giblet gravy to go over those mashed potatoes! The Good Gravy Rag was written in 1913 by Harry Belding and performed here by Bill Mitchell at RagFest 2006.




Belding wasn't one of the big time composers of the ragtime era. He was born in Jefferson Iowa to a mother who taught music and from whom he probably received some musical instruction. Some time around 1889, Harry's father began selling pianos and organs (of the musical sort, not the kind used in giblet gravy), so it's fair to say he came from a musical family. By 1910 Harry had moved to the ragtime hotbed of St. Louis, MO where he managed a vaudeville theater and the exposure led to his taking on a partner and going on tour during 1912 and 1913 under the moniker Alexander and Belding. This was the act that introduced Good Gravy Rag in 1913. The following season Belding teamed up with a singer named Myrtle Sounders and in late 1913, Belding released his only other known piece, Apple Sass Rag. 

Belding virtually disappears after 1914, he either left show business or didn't find a receptive audience. In 1918 he shows up with his wife Minnie and daughter Dorothy in Los Angeles where his draft records show his occupation as farmer employed by his father. Eventually he would remarry, move to San Diego, and become a successful real estate agent and part-time performer. He died in 1931 at the age of 49 after falling down a flight of stairs.

Singing for Thanksgiving Dinner - Combination Salad Rag (1916)

Yet another mysterious composer on our first course menu. Julius L. Bafunno composed Combination Salad Fox Trot in 1916 and it's a nice enough tune. I did a little digging and found a copyright for a 1917 tune entitled Desert Moon with words and music by J. S. Bafunno, the rights of which go to Julius L. Bafunno of Chicago. I found mention of Julius playing piano for the annual banquet of the Chicago Coal Merchants Association in the May 26, 1917 issue of The Black Diamond, a coal trade paper (right). He accompanied a chorus singing Romance Land, a tune I couldn't run down in a brief online search.

After that, the trail goes cold. There are no more copyright entries for Bafunno (L or S) and no more mentions in the periodicals that have been scanned to Google's ever-growing library of old documents. Maybe Mr. Bafunno was a one-hit-wonder of his era, though I can't say Combination Salad or Desert Moon exactly seem to be hits. I guess the point is we'll never know.

The cover of the rag is very entry level. Nice, but nothing I'd hang on my wall. The simplicity is kind of sad, though. I can't help but travel back through time to put myself in his shoes. Imagine the first time he walked down the block to the local music shop and saw his name on the cover of a copy of sheet music. Imagine how excited he must have been, how he must have been thinking, "this is it, I've finally made it, soon the world will be beating a path to my door..." Then 1917 came and his next composition. Then...nothing...

Well, I don't want to cast a shadow over the festivities. After all we're here to eat combination salad, not mourn it. Therefore, I offer you an admittedly MIDI version of the tune by Julius L. Bafunno. Raise your glass and offer a toast to all the dreams we've had this year, may the best of them come true and may they live at least as long as this tune has.

Singing for Thanksgiving Dinner - Dill Pickles Rag (1906)

No relish tray is complete without a few Dill Pickles. The composer, Charles L. Johnson was born in the ragtime hotbed of Kansas City in 1876 and he lived out his whole life in that city. He's a heavyweight, publishing over 300 songs, nearly forty of which were ragtime compositions. His best selling piece, Sweet and Low, sold over a million copies and there's some belief that if he'd lived and worked in New York City, he would have ranked alongside other ragtime greats such as Scott Joplin, James Scott, and Joseph Lamb.

Singing for Thanksgiving Dinner - Coffee Rag

A good cup of coffee before or after dinner is always a good thing, how about a cup of the Coffee Rag? This one performed by Andrew Kasab, a heck of a guitarist.

Singing for Thanksgiving Dinner - Chow Chow Rag (1909)

Seeing the title Chow Chow made me think of an episode of the Andy Griffith Show. In that episode, Aunt Bea fusses with Andy over a trip he's taking, and insists on packing a jar of Piccalilli relish for him "in case he got hungry on the bus". Chow chow is similar, a type of sweet and savory vegetable relish made mainly from bell peppers, green tomatoes, onions, and cabbage. If you're interested, you can find a recipe here.

The Chow Chow Rag by Philip Schwartz, however, suggests an Indian origin for the dish, which may owe to an ingredient of chow chow, chayote, is known as chow chow in India. Who knows, the turbaned guy on the cover may be carrying a plate of chayote.

I wasn't able to find any information on Philip Schwartz in my usual ragtime music databases, this may have been his only composition or he may have worked under another pen name, it's hard to be sure. Unfortunately, I also couldn't find anything but a MIDI version of the tune, so our relish tray will have to have a synthetic taste. I hope you enjoy, though!

The Ragtime Goblin Man

Just a quick little kickoff for October. I have the sheet music for this ragtime novelty tune and I thought it'd make a nice tune to get the Halloween season started. So, why not have a listen?