RE-CREATING THE MOTHER OF THE BLUES: MUSICAL PRESENCE IN AUGUST WILSON'S MA RAINEY'S BLACK BOTTOM by Chelsea June Adams A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree MASTER OF ARTS IN ENGLISH WEBER STATE UNIVERSITY Ogden, Utah April, 18,2016 Approved of Dr. Hal Crimmel Dr. Mahalingam Subbiah Adams 1 Chelsea Adams MENG Thesis Dr. Crimmel 4-11-16 Re-Creating the Mother of the Blues: Musical Presence in August Wilson's Ma Rainey 's Black Bottom August Wilson's Ma Rainey's Black Bottom offers a unique, fictional look into a day in the life of Ma Rainey and the blues musicians in her band. Wilson's version of Ma Rainey fulfills expectations of the many accounts of Gertrude "Ma" Rainey as a woman who was fiercely independent and an advocate for blues music and the topics it bridged, the people who played it, and the communities of people that it could help to empower if the blues were sung in its intended form. Rainey's character in the play is a portrayal of the historical woman in more ways than simply her overarching attitudes and traits: the songs Wilson chooses to have her sing for the recording session shows his careful analysis of Rainey as a musician and blues advocate. In a time when blues musicians were generally restricted from choosing their own music—Bessie Smith, for example, was always told what she would record, and had little say in recorded arrangements—Rainey wrote and recorded many of her own songs, and she played a large role in determining what she decided to record. Her managing of her own recording career, historically and in the play, helps the play's viewers and readers begin to understand why Rainey bears the title Mother of the Blues. Although scholars such as Alan Nadel and Jessica Teague have written on the blues music in Wilson's play—particularly focusing on the importance of live music and the technical nature of cutting a record that we see portrayed in the play—nothing has been said about the Adams 2 actual songs which Wilson chooses to have Rainey record in the play. Yet, an analysis of the Mother of the Blues in this play would not be complete without such a musical analysis, especially because Wilson put such a large emphasis on placing black culture on the stage as a way to combat the historical marginalization that had taken place over the course of the history of the United States. In order to illuminate the importance of Wilson's song choices in the play, even the songs that are just briefly mentioned and never heard on stage, I will show that Wilson, through his own admissions, strove to put black culture—particularly blues culture—on stage as he wrote Ma Rainey's Black Bottom. His drive to put black culture on stage in the play, aided strongly by two of his four, self-named biggest influences, Amiri Baraka and the blues, guided his representation of the culture, the music, and the figure Gertrude "Ma" Rainey herself. The blues influence in particular would show through in his portrayal of the blues legend "Ma" Rainey, even though he actively avoided reading about her history. That history, which he never was able to fully avoid because of the legends surrounding Rainey's music, shines through in his fictional re-writing of the historical character. I believe that the musical and legendary history of Ma Rainey is the reason Wilson chose the songs he mentions in the play, and the lack of analysis of those songs is a gap in the study of Ma Rainey's Black Bottom that needs filling in order to prove the playwright's diligence and dedication to detail as he strove to represent marginalized black history. Therefore, I will analyze the songs Wilson chooses to have Rainey record: "Prove It on Me," an expression of Rainey's pansexuality; "Moonshine Blues," a discussion of original authorship and Rainey's supposed rivalry with Bessie Smith; "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom," a demonstration of Rainey's insistence upon authenticity of the blues that she authors; and "Hear Adams 3 me Talking to You," a discussion of Rainey's and her audience's dealings with black-white economic and social relations. Each of these songs, when examined closely within the context of the play and Rainey's history illuminates the character of Ma Rainey as blues singer, particularly in her relationships with the other characters in the play—both on and off stage. August Wilson: Black culture On Stage When August Wilson dropped out of high school in 1961 after being accused of plagiarism, he went to the library, eager to educate himself, and read a large variety of texts. By 1965, he had discovered the blues; he heard Bessie Smith sing, and, inspired by the music, made it one of his guides to his writing. In many interviews after his success, he would name four inspirations that guided him to write as he did. He said, "I have what I call my four B's: Romare Bearden; Imamu Amiri Baraka, the writer; Jorge Luis Borges, the Argentine short-story writer; and the biggest B of all: the blues" (Rocha 3). Each of these four influences would come to create the framework for Wilson's plays. Baraka would help solidify the blues and black nationalism in Wilson's mind; Bearden, the man Wilson saw as the ideal black artist, would give Wilson a greater understanding of collage, ritual, and representation; the blues would become Wilson's way to interpret and confront the reality that was America for blacks; and Borges would teach Wilson about the importance of aesthetics, listening, and storytelling. Wilson would be a vocal admirer of these four influences, giving them credit in nearly interview he gave. However, he would always return to the blues to give extra emphasis on its importance in his work: Wilson called the blues the sacred work that contains all anyone needs to know about black experience. Adams 4 Perhaps nowhere is this strong blues influence more evident than in the first of his Pittsburgh Cycle plays, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom. Wilson began writing the play after he heard Bessie Smith and when he got his first typewriter in 1965, and he would work on the play for twenty years before its debut. During this period, Wilson went on to learn more about the blues from his inspiration Baraka and listen to all the blues recordings he could get his hands on. It is for this reason I assert that of these four influences, Baraka and the blues are the two biggest drivers behind the writing of Ma Rainey's Black Bottom. As Wilson gained more knowledge over those twenty years, built on his initial contact with the blues and his study through Baraka, the play takes on particular significance, not just as the first play in his Pittsburgh Cycle, but in the portrayal of the music as both meaningful and exploited. Knowing this, I believe that it is worth providing at least a brief background on the blues, Baraka, and Baraka's endeavors to write a history of the blues and its people to preface a musical analysis of Wilson's play. Amiri Baraka and the Blues Leroy (later spelled LeRoi) Jones, later to be known as Amiri Baraka, was an influential African- American poet, playwright, writer, and political figure, particularly in the decades of the 1960s and 1970s, although his work would be influential—and controversial—in America in later years as well. He initially attended Howard University, but, increasingly displeased with the othering of his black culture, he quit attending classes and was soon after expelled (Fox). In the 1950s, he would join the United States Air Force, only to be dishonorably discharged for owning what the military saw as Communist-leaning literature (Amiri). After his unfriendly military experience, Baraka moved back to New York and became involved with the Beat poets and was an editor for a music magazine. He soon began publishing Adams 5 his poetry, and he was acclaimed for the lyricism of his work: it was as much meant to be heard as read. However, Fidel Castro's Cuba of the 1960s would awaken Baraka's political side, and much to the chagrin of many critics, his writing, once apolitical, became inseparably linked with politics (Fox). By the time Wilson met Baraka, Baraka labeled himself as a black nationalist (although he would later define himself as a Marxist). Baraka and Wilson met through the political turmoil surrounding Malcolm X. Knowing this, Mark William Rocha labels Wilson, at heart, a black nationalist. He says that if we look closely at his work, Wilson continues to deepen "the motif of facing the white man," a motif Baraka refined throughout his career as a writer and poet. What is so telling about this motif in Wilson's work for Rocha is that the center stage is not the confrontation, but "how the black community invests itself in that face-to-face encounter" (7). Often in Wilson's plays, the black community chooses to invest in the blues in order to deal with marginalization, racism, and oppressive white power structures. These white power structures were something Baraka was increasingly aware of, given his stint in the army, but also emerged from his interest in blues and jazz music. During his time at Howard University, Baraka recalls being tutored by the great African American poet Sterling Brown, who brought him to a greater awareness of the importance of blues music in order to understand African American history. In the introduction to a subsequent publishing of his influential work Blues People: Negro Music in White America, Baraka explains how Brown helped him come to the realization of blues as an important historical artifact: Sterling began to give a few informal talks on our history as Black Music ... we sat, very literally, at his feet, taking those priceless teachings in. The Music, The Music, this is our Adams 6 history.... there was a body of music that came to exist from a people who were brought to this side as slaves and that throughout that music's development, it had had to survive, expand, reorganize, continue, and express itself, as the fragile property of a powerless and oppressed People the music was explaining the history as the history was explaining the music. And that both were expressions of and reflections of the people ... . At each juncture, twist, and turn, as Black people were transformed, so was their characteristic music. It became emphatically clear to me that by analyzing the music, you could see with some accuracy what and why that change had been, (ix-x) It is Brown's initial influence that would move Baraka to seminal work: Blues People. The work itself makes Baraka a doubly important influence on Wilson, as Wilson would utilize the blues in his work in a manner very reminiscent of Baraka's beliefs and writings. Musically, the blues shines in both Baraka's and Wilson's works as a way to display a marginalized and exploited history. In his article "Blues, History, and the Dramaturgy of August Wilson," Jay Plum asserts that Wilson intended the blues to be a central part of his plays. Wilson believed that the black community was lost because of a failure to recognize its history, and that blues music offered the link between the past and the present. The blues could be a mediator between generations and solve conflicts. As such, Wilson's plays offer opportunities for people to witness the painful facts of the past and present and help them to transcend "marginal existence" for African Americans (564). The sentiment echoes Baraka's in this idea of using the blues to elevate and reawaken the social consciousness of African Americans. Inside and outside of Wilson's work, he saw the blues as a way to offer a reawakening of social and cultural consciousness, presenting stories that multiple generations of black people can understand. Plum states, "For Wilson, the blues, rather than defining African Americans Adams 7 through the limited discourse of American history, enable African Americans to explore their liminality through the everyday experiences of the past and to reclaim their cultural history" because the blues are uniquely American and can offer a more inclusive solution to America's cultural problems and history (566). Structurally speaking, the blues is able to offer this inclusive solution because of its musical structuring. The most popular blues form is the 12-bar blues. Author, teacher, and musician Dick Weissman has a good basic description of the structure of the 12-bar blues: Almost invariably the songs will be in 4/4 time, which means that there are four quarter notes in each measure of music. The verses will contain twelve bars of music, and the chord structure will usually consist of three basic chords, built on the first, fourth, and fifth notes of the scale.... The lyrics will be in AAB form, which means that the first line of the song will be repeated, with the third line acting as a sort of answer to the previous (repeated) lines. The end of lines one and two typically rhymes with the end of line 3. (23) Each twelve bars has three four bar sections within it, and the melodies can be vastly different. The element that stays the same within those sections is the harmony behind it to unify the movements (Mile). However, not all 12-bar blues songs will have verses that are exactly twelve bars of music; the structure varies from song to song because the musicians sometimes lose track of what bar of music they're on, and so they have to improvise. At the same time, blues is a living contradiction between its lyrics and its music. While the music is often upbeat and playful, the lyrics, according to Ralph Ellison, record "the painful details and episodes of a brutal experience alive in one's aching consciousness, to finger its jagged grain, and to transcend it, not by the consolation of philosophy but by squeezing from it a Adams 8 near-tragic, near-comic lyricism. As a form, the blues is an autobiographical chronicle of personal catastrophe expressed lyrically" (103). The expression takes the form of call and response. It functions by making a statement in the first line, repeating that statement in the second line, and then answering that statement or question in the third line. The instruments also interact with this call and response form. The singer sings a line, and the musician answers it in the melody. The lyrics are the art in blues that represents reality through its own context (Bluesland). "One way to understand the blues," says Gregory Clark, "is that it's telling the truth in a way that lets you affirm enduring." Loren Schoenberg says that blues and jazz music have the most disparate audience, and that it brings people together that never would even have talked to one another. They set aside social class to listen to the music and the music is the great equalizer. "The reason you play the blues is to get rid of the blues," says Schoenberg. "Let people react to it however they hear it. If they understand the lyric, fine. If they get a feeling from the vibe of the voice, fine. You wouldn't hear them singing the blues if they weren't in the nightclub or the dance hall singing it." And it is this communal aspect of the blues that keeps people returning to gain a higher understanding and a coping mechanism for the injustices of life. According to Albert Murray, the importance of the blues is "that it affirms, it's a form for affirming life in the face of adversity. You start out by admitting that life is a low down dirty shame and you end up saying, 'Oh and I'm born to die? Why can't this last forever?'" (Bluesland). The singer of the blues is fighting against the abyss of misery or trouble that threatens to consume them and their listeners. "The point is that you aren't at home by yourself singing the blues. You're out in a public place singing, so by the very singing it you're getting Adams 9 rid of it by this communal thing," says Schoenberg. The lyrics then function as a way to bring balance to people's lives by removing its toxic elements. Similarly, Wynton Marsalis described the blues and jazz he played as "the opportunity to bring happiness to people, provoke thought, evoke sorrow, or convey something beautiful that adds to someone's life" (21). Each song offered a different emotion to the band members and the audience members. "The melody is not the song," as Marsalis said (35). The joy of playing to a live audience added to the vivacity of a performance. The band played off of the reactions of the crowd, and each time a song was played, it sounded a bit different. The above accounts of what the music offers both its performers and listeners speaks to what Baraka realized at the feet of Sterling Brown: the music, with its call and response format and African roots, offers listeners (although, according to Baraka only African American listeners) a chance to interact with history, better understand that history, and to shape the future history in the music; the blues was a musical format with the power to become conscious of and shape black history in America. Ma Rainey: A Brief Historical Overview Compared to historical information written and available about her contemporary and sometimes rival Bessie Smith, information about Ma Rainey is rather scarce and hard to separate from legend. In my research, I could find only one full biography, written by Sandra Lieb, detailing Ma Rainey's life. Many other short biographies have mixed truth with legend, and provide us with only semi-accurate information. If this is the case in 2016, it is hardly likely that when Wilson came to write Ma Rainey's Black Bottom he could have easily accessed reliable written information about her. Yet, despite the lack of written information, with revived interest in the Adams 10 blues by the time Wilson became aware of the blues and started writing Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, there was no lack of circulating legend about the blues queen. Even though Wilson insisted that he did very little research about Ma Rainey for his play Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, he has admitted that he talked to members of his community who had contact with Ma Rainey, and he did hear stories about the Mother of the Blues and her big personality. In an interview with Sandra G. Shannon, he stated that he had firsthand experience talking to people who remember hearing Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith sing. Because much of what we know from her history is mixed in with the legends told of Rainey in accounts such as Wilson heard, it becomes important for the play's readers and viewers to have a brief historical overview of Gertrude "Ma" Rainey. Knowing a brief historical outline will establish the many similarities between Wilson's fictional character and the historical figure and her musical importance. Due to the general lack of compiled and reliable information on Rainey, I will largely be relying on Lieb's well-written biography of Rainey. By sharing this information, I do not intend to imply that Wilson created an exact or near-exact copy of Rainey in his play, nor do I intend to imply that he had all the information I am presenting. However, given that Ma Rainey's recordings were largely recovered in the 1960s and 1970s, more than simply her music would have been circulating at this time. Whether or not the information regarding Rainey at the time was accurate or not, it would have been connected with her music, and as such, Wilson would have unavoidably heard stories about Rainey's spectacular performances, relationship with Bessie Smith, and mothering yet give-no-ground personality, among many other legends. And while Wilson may not have may not claim historical influence outside of blues music, his creation of the fictional Ma Rainey suggests that he was, indeed, influenced by the Rainey Adams 11 legends. The brief biographical information I provide here is intended to provide a basis for comparison for readers so that they may come to notice the similarities and differences between Wilson's character "Ma" and the historical "Ma." Gertrude "Ma" Rainey, first known as Gertrude Pridgett, began her performing career as a young teenager; we have a letter from her brother, among other indicators, that she made her musical debut at the age of fourteen. From that time forward, she consistently performed in tent shows, and as far as historians can tell, she started adding what she called "blues" to her repertoire around the year 1902, and Rainey was quick to claim that she coined the music she sang as "blues." Musicologist John Work, Jr., recorded her story of how she first encountered the blues and added it into her act: "Ma" Rainey heard them in 1902 in a small town in Missouri where she was appearing with a show under a tent. She tells of a girl from the town who came to the tent one morning and began to sing about the "man" who had left her. The song was so strange and poignant that it attracted much attention. "Ma" Rainey became so interested that she learned the song from the visitor, and used it soon afterwards in her "act" as an encore. The song elicited such response from the audience that it won a special place in her act. Many times she was asked what kind of song it was, and one day she replied, in a moment of inspiration, "it's the Blues''' That is what "Ma" Rainey said when she allowed me to interview her in the Douglass Hotel in Nashville where her company was playing. She added that a fire destroyed some newspaper clippings which mention her singing of these strange songs in Adams 12 1905. She added, however, that after she began to sing the blues, although they were not so named then, she frequently heard similar songs in the course of her travels. (32-33) Both Lieb and Elijah Wald say with certainty that Rainey was not the first one to come up with the name "blues" for the genre, with Wald adding, "it is not clear at what point she began calling her songs blues, and there is no evidence that she used the term any earlier than [W.C.] Handy did" (12). Whether or not the "Mother of the Blues" actually coined the term for the genre, she would go on to significantly influence many musicians of her time and come to define what we call "Classic Blues" today. Her largest influence was arguably in the sphere of performance on the Vaudeville and tent show stages. By age eighteen, she had been wooed by and married to William "Pa" Rainey, and together they put on a show as "Assassinators of the Blues." They successfully performed this act and many others for years before a Paramount scout "discovered" Rainey and offered her a recording session. Rainey first recorded in 1923, with "Bad Luck Blues" being her first recording. She recorded exclusively in Chicago, and even though she was recording in a city where blues music thrived, she would be overlooked by important blues promotional figures such as Carl Van Vechten, who would come to immortalize Bessie Smith with his tales and photos of the blues queen. Instead of focusing on fame through recordings, "Ma" Rainey focused her work on performing. She would tour the TOBA (Theater Owners Booking Agency) circuit, a circuit known by many black artists as "Tough On Black Asses." Despite the difficult schedules lined up through TOBA, Rainey had people lining up around the block to watch her show, and she continually broke attendance records with her act. Adams 13 In between circuit runs, Rainey managed to record 92 songs. Unfortunately, the majority of the records are very poor quality, as Paramount was notorious for its shabby recording equipment and techniques. The low quality recordings ultimately mask Rainey's voice, obscuring her full power as a songstress. But despite this setback, Paramount was one of the bestselling record companies of the time period, and she saw great success with her music, particularly with the songs "Moonshine Blues," "Bo-Weevil Blues," and "See See Rider." Lieb praises these recordings as great contributions to blues that hold their own even against Bessie Smith's covers of the songs: "Usually whenever Bessie 'covered' another singer's material, she vocally demolished the original performance, but in this case, her excellent recordings do not surpass their models" (41-2). What makes Rainey's music stand out and hold their own in comparison to Bessie Smith's recorded work can be pinned down in the differences in their styles. Smith had syncopations and melodical variations more familiar to Tin Pan Alley material—indeed most of her repertoire is considered non-blues music. On the other hand, Rainey's work was largely a blues repertoire, utilizing jug bands and what may be deemed a more "country" sound in comparison to Smith's urbanely sophisticated sound. Yet despite the differences, or maybe because of them, Rainey's records were some of the best selling race records in the South, whereas Smith's work would thrive in the North. Though she would have the above mentioned and many other successes in the recording industry before the depression, Rainey would always prefer touring and live performance to the recording studio. Her superiority in live performance was unparalleled by any of her peers: Steven C. Tracy says that while Bessie may be attributed the better vocal technique, and though Rainey was often remembered as unattractive by fellow musicians, when she sang, "Ma's southern-drenched voice, echoing the field hollers and folk songs of sixteen-hour days among Adams 14 turn rows worked so unrelentingly that the laborers could see them in their dreams, had a depth of feeling matched by few other blues singers of her time" (85). It was Rainey's voice and deep understanding of her audiences that allowed her to elicit their undivided attention. And while her ability to captivate an audience kept her working on the TOBA and tent circuits long after many other performers could no longer find gigs or make money on their acts, Rainey's popularity would soon succumb to the changing times. The Depression spurred a change in entertainment that was already underway; recording companies cut back or closed their doors as record sales plummeted, live theater was replaced by film, and records and victrolas lost their importance in homes as the radio became a better investment for frequent new entertainment. Gertrude "Ma" Rainey faded from the public eye by the early thirties, and although she still ran two theaters in the South successfully, her records were all but forgotten, along with her achievements, until the blues revival period of the 1960s, with her death certificate listing her occupation as a simple housekeeper. Despite being slighted by such poor historical documentation, Lieb still claims that Rainey was a woman who bridged two time periods: she was "one of the last great minstrel artists and one of the first professional women blues singers .... and left an indelible mark on recorded blues that synthesis of folk blues melodies, themes, and images, and a style of black minstrelsy and Toby-time vaudeville—which was to vanish from live performance by the thirties" (48). It is the memory of Rainey's strong live performances combined with the legends surrounding her music that August Wilson would come into contact with during the twenty year span over which he would write Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, and whether or not he did any extra research, the legends around the woman, her music, and her life shine through quite clearly in the songs he chose for the fictional recording session, the characters surrounding her, those Adams 15 characters actions around her, and Ma's interactions with those characters both in her presence and in her absence. "Prove It on Me": Lesbianism in Rainey's Blues "Prove It on Me" is a song that, overtly expressing lesbianism, is a good example of the types of taboo subjects that the blues was consistently unafraid of dealing with. Covered many times since, the song is still tied to Ma Rainey, her sexuality, and biographical stories. Blues singer Karen Lovely prefaces her version of the song on her album "Prohibition Blues" with the following legend: One of my favorite stories about her, sexuality was kind of loose in the twenties. It was a little more free as long as you didn't get caught doing anything. And Ma Rainey kinda swung both ways. Sometimes she swung more one way than the other. But legend has it that she was in a wild sex orgy with a whole bunch of women that got raided and she was only saved by Bessie Smith barrelling through the house and sneaking her out the back door. Whether or not the story is true or simply anecdote to make the song more popular with modern- day listeners, it is telling for the powerful personality that Ma Rainey was known for. Rainey confidently portrays her sexual preferences to the public through this piece, and challenges the listener to prove what she's saying, full well knowing the dangers of getting caught in such homosexual activities. Lieb asserts that there was plenty of evidence that Rainey was bisexual, as "Ma Rainey was arrested in 1925 for an indiscretion involving her chorines" (17). Lieb describes the tangle with the Chicago PD, stating that the police got to the party right as it was getting steamy, and Adams 16 Ma Rainey, the last one out of the place, tripped down the stairs and got caught. Bessie Smith would later bail her out. The story runs similarly to the legend Lovely tells on her album, and may lend credence to her story. She would record "Prove It on Me Blues" three years later in 1928, one of the few songs that would touch directly on her life experiences. Given the proclivities of the recording studios at the time, it is unsurprising that the song would be recorded, and even less unsurprising that it would be a hit: much of the bestselling blues music of the time period was filled with double entendres and sexual allusions. Hazel Carby states that female blues singers, with songs like "Prove It on Me Blues," offer themselves up as "liminal figures that play out and explore the various possibilities of a sexual existence" and that they strive to "reclaim women's bodies as the sexual and sensuous objects of women's song" (12). In this song, Rainey embodies the image of wild woman challenging and breaking cultural norms of her time period. Angela Davis states that "Prove It on Me Blues" "portrays just such a 'wild woman,' who affirms her independence from the orthodox norms of womanhood by boldly flaunting her lesbianism" (39). The song does this in a variety of subtle and overt ways, alternating between the two for maximum effect. For example, the song begins with the singer getting in a fight, looking up, and finding that "The gal I was with was gone" (Davis 238). At this point in the song, the relationship between this gal and Rainey has yet to be established, but it becomes subtly clearer two lines down with the line "I mean to follow everywhere she goes" (Davis 238). The line seems as if it should be sung by a man chasing his woman, and Ma Rainey is taking over the masculine role in the relationship in multiple ways mentioned through the song: her fighting, following or chasing the gal, and her attire of a collar and tie. Lieb describes the tone of voice Rainey utilizes in the Adams 17 song as "tough and aggressive" (69) which further strengthens the idea that Rainey is taking on the masculine role of pursuer and lover in the song. Twice, Rainey boldly asserts that when she goes out with friends, "They must've been women, 'cause I don't like no men" (Davis 238), boldly affirming that Rainey's escapades aren't platonic female friendships, but instead far more sexual in their intentions. She won't be going out with other women in search of men, but instead in pursuit of the women she is going out on the town with. Carby describes the line as a "reclamation of lesbianism as long as the woman publicly names her sexual preference for herself' (18). Carby's analysis of the line articulates the idea that Rainey's intention of the song was as political as it was personal. As long as Rainey is clear in her sexual preferences and intentions, she should be free to express them. Sexuality, therefore, should not be governed by what society dictates, but instead by individual need and preference. Sexual intention is continually referenced throughout the song. The "it" Rainey refers to in phrases like "They say I do it" (Davis 238) stands in for the word sex. The singer is aware that people know of her sexual preferences, but, as Lieb says, "the singer does not care" (125), but instead boasts of her exploits, daring the audience to "Prove it on me" (Davis 238) if they want her to change her behavior; otherwise, she will continue to do as she wishes regarding her sexual preferences and pursue women instead of men. With this information in mind, it comes as no surprise to find this song as one of the four on the recording session in Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, particularly because of the presence of Ma Rainey's girl, Dussie Mae. Upon Dussie Mae's entry into the play, Wilson describes her as "a young, dark-skinned woman whose greatest asset is the sensual energy which seems to flow from her. She is dressed in a fur jacket and a tight-fitting canary-yellow dress" (48). She is the Adams 18 pretty young woman at Ma's side when she gets in a fight with the cabbie and then the policeman, much like the unnamed woman in "Prove It on Me Blues." However, instead of running off when the action starts, Dussie Mae stays and defends Rainey with phrases like "She ain't hit him! He just fell!" (50) and "Ma was just trying to open the door" (51). Her words express her loyalty to Rainey, and soon after she is seemingly rewarded for that loyalty. Rainey takes on the role of provider for Dussie Mae, insisting that she have new clothes that will flatter her and shoes that will fit her. She says the same thing for Sylvester, but the relationship is different. With Sylvester, she takes on the role of mother figure, since he is her nephew; with Dussie Mae, she takes on the role of husband or significant other, flattering Dussie Mae and wishing to have her look her best before they go on a trip to Memphis together. The discussion of the act is a representation of Rainey's figurative possession of Dussie Mae, a possession that the men in the band, minus Levee, are well aware of. When they go down to record, Dussie Mae requests to come down into the recording studio so she can see the band, but Rainey replies "Ain't no cause in you being down there," (63) implying that having Dussie Mae present in a room full of men is a distraction Rainey does not need, particularly because it would require her to take attention of her music and devote some of it to ensuring Dussie Mae stays her girl. This male threat is realized in the trumpet player Levee, who, from the moment he sees her, is trying to win Dussie Mae's affections. Despite Rainey's request that Dussie Mae stay away from the band, by Act Two, Dussie's right in the studio with the band by Levee's side, where she "hikes up her dress and crosses her leg" to flirt with him (73). We discover that he's been trying to sleep with her since the night previous when he first met her, and he attempts to woo her with his potential success in recording with his own band. Dussie Mae plays along, but Adams 19 but quickly makes it clear what really matters to her: love, affection, and being treated like a lady are fine, but none of it matters if Levee can't back it up with money. Dussie Mae says that only after he gets his band will she talk to him about the things he's offering her. While Levee has no band and no real income, he is no serious threat for Ma Rainey: Dussie Mae's affections will stay where the financial security lies. However, this doesn't stop Levee or Dussie Mae from physical dalliances. Levee goes into kiss Dussie Mae as the lights fade, leaving the details of how far the dalliance goes up to the audience's imagination. However, Dussie Mae is well aware that there are consequences for getting caught in physical dalliances. When the lights come up again on Levee and Dussie Mae, she exclaims, "No ... Come on! I got to go. You gonna get me in trouble" (84). Levee doesn't seem to care about the consequences, as he sees himself as a musician that is able to change with the times, in a position of power above Ma Rainey, but Dussie Mae stands to lose her financial security if she gets caught. And while Ma Rainey may not be around to witness what has gone on in the studio while she was dealing with business, the other band members are well aware that Levee is playing with fire. They already blame Levee for the extended time it has taken to get the music recorded, as Slow Drag remarks, "Levee up there got one eye on the gal and the other on his trumpet" (89). As Slow Drag calls Levee out, Cutler warns, "Don't you know that's Ma's gal?" (89). Both Cutler and Slow Drag understand that Dussie Mae is important enough to Ma Rainey to cause her to act rashly toward Levee, yet he misunderstands the intent, or does not care. Cutler and Slow Drag decide, after Levee's repeated insistence that he is just talking to the gal, to allow him to make himself a rope long enough to hang himself with, but Cutler makes certain that Levee knows the stakes: "You' ass gonna be out there scraping the concrete looking for a job if you Adams 20 messing with Ma's gal" (89). The implication is that Dussie Mae, as Ma's lover, may be forgiven her transgression, but Levee, as tempter and competitor for Dussie Mae's affections, will not be so lucky. Slow Drag and Cutler recognize the sexual relationship that exists between Dussie Mae and Ma Rainey, while Levee rejects it in his continued pursuit of a romantically and sexually committed woman. "Moonshine Blues": Original Authorship and Rivalry When the band gets the list of music to be recorded from Mr. Irvin, Toledo reads off the song list, and Cutler, concerned, says, "Them ain't the songs Ma told me" (21). While the band has faith that Ma will sort things out when she gets to the studio, Cutler's worries extend past the simple fact that the list isn't the same as the one Ma handed him previously; his worries extend to a specific song—"Moonshine Blues." In the play's second act, Cutler gets around to voicing his concerns, albeit to a Ma fired up over Sturdyvant and Irvin trying to force Levee's arrangements on her recordings. Cutler approaches the already fiery Ma about the song, cautiously stating that "Moonshine Blues" is "one of them songs Bessie Smith sang, I believe" (78). With his statement, we can easily discern that he believes that because Smith sang the song— and more precisely, recorded it first—it belongs to her, and perhaps Ma ought not to sing it, especially given Smith's popularity. Ma responds with fervor, announcing her importance as a Blues Queen to not just Cutler, but the audience, as she says: Bessie what? Ain't nobody thinking about Bessie. I taught Bessie. She ain't doing nothing but imitating me. What I care about Bessie? I don't care if she sell a million records. She got her people and I got mine. I don't care what nobody else do. Ma was the Adams 21 first and don't you forget it! I been doing this a long time. Ever since I was a little girl. I don't care what nobody else do. (78-9) Illustrated in this response is the history that built Ma Rainey's legacy as the "Mother of the Blues." Rainey was one of the first Blues Queens, traveling in Minstrel Shows throughout the South with her first husband, and as some accounts say, Smith was indeed tutored by Rainey, and it was what helped her into the music scene. Despite her founding of this musical style in minstrelsy, many of the songs Rainey had been singing for years were recorded first by other blues artists. Yet those artists, including Bessie Smith, would have heard Rainey sing those songs before they recorded them. When these other artists, including Smith, recorded Rainey's work for the first time, they were recording with different audiences than Rainey's in mind. And, as demonstrated by the song itself, "Moonshine Blues" as Ma sang it was meant for a completely different audience than Smith's audience. Due to the differences in those audiences, Rainey's original authorship of the song gives her an originality that holds its own against Smith's rendition of the song without diminishing Smith's recording of it. To further flush out the significance of Ma's above statement in the play, I would like to briefly cover the context of the song for Smith and Rainey and the importance in the two artists' choices in recording. Davis asserts that the song, in some sense, belongs to Bessie Smith instead of Ma Rainey, given the subject matter: alcohol and heading South. Her performance, in Davis's mind, holds more authenticity not only because Smith "had more experience with alcohol than Rainey," but because "Smith also had a broader grasp of the problems encountered by black women who migrated northward, since, as a native of Tennessee, she had decided to take up residence in Pennsylvania" while Rainey "always maintained her residence in the South" (83). Consequently, Adams 22 Smith made some small changes in the song's lyrics to reflect that understanding of struggle in solidarity with her listeners. For Davis, one of the most significant changes made to Rainey's composition for Smith's musical styling is the change of the word "Lord" for "girls." The change moves from traditional blues discourse to a more personal and human sympathy and search for solace (Davis 63). While Davis makes some valid points about the importance of lyric changes to give Smith's version of the song power for her Northern female listeners, I believe she neglects to consider that Rainey's audience was never really Northern blues listeners, especially because she always maintained a Southern residence. Ma Rainey's audience was never much concentrated in the North, despite the fact that she did successfully perform in Chicago and occasionally in New York City. Her work instead catered to the Minstrel tradition and its audience, and as such would have maintained a more traditionally oriented blues discourse as compared to Smith's many Tin Pan Alley renditions to attract Northern popularity. Davis's commentary, along with other evaluations of Rainey's and Smith's shared musical repertoire, seem to paint them in rivalry with one another, despite the understanding that while there was definitely crossover in audience, the two singers catered to different clientele: one Northern, one Southern. Regardless of this fact, Bessie Smith and Ma Rainey more than occasionally get painted as rivals, despite many historical accounts that portray their friendship, and it seems that this perceived rivalry is the reason for Cutler's trepidation about recording the song. However, despite Smith's superior voice, she does not surpass Rainey in singing "Moonshine Blues." Where Smith sings a more smooth and sophisticated version of the song, accompanied only by the piano, Rainey comes in with horns and a growling voice. Even with the poorer quality Adams 23 Paramount recording, Rainey's voice comes across as a voice with a stage presence, a voice that demands your attention, never to be deemed background music. As far as the play is concerned, the differences between these two songs are the differences in the artists and their abilities to change with the times and public musical tastes. Smith appealed to a jazz-oriented audience; Rainey appealed to the Minstrelsy tradition. The difference is reflected in the recordings. Rainey starts her song off in a far more performative manner, speaking the first line, "Hold it, Luke, it might be a bootlegger!" before continuing into the song. Smith starts out singing with the smooth piano arrangement. They may be singing essentially the same song, but they come off with largely disparate levels of sophistication. Smith's version is clearly tailored to a mixed race audience, one that necessitated black "refinement" to be part of the "talented tenth." Consequently, her voice and the music behind her lose the gritty heart of the blues song and switch over to the New Orleans ragtime piano accompaniment behind the smooth, but bold, jazz diva. As a cover of Rainey's "Moonshine Blues," Smith hardly worries about making the herself sound like a version of Ma Rainey; instead, she caters her song to her intended audience, making for a quality rendition of the original song. Similarly, Rainey tailors her song to the Southern Minstrelsy audience that loved her music and supported her career. The song keeps the jug band sound behind it; it is loud and growling, bearing none of the smooth sophistication of Smith's rendition. When Ma tells Cutler "that's what gets me so mad with Irvin" (79), she is indicating that the white record managers, by asking her to change her sound to fit what they want according to what the public thinks, do not take into consideration that she knows what her public thinks, and consequently will not be swayed to change her musical style to fit an audience that she does not see as her own. And Adams 24 given that the year 1928, when this play takes place, was one of Rainey's best years in both recording and live performance, it is fitting that she refuses to change her style on the whims of the white studio owners. Ma Rainey's audience required a more theatrical performance from her, even in her recordings, and it shines through particularly well in the history of "Moonshine Blues," Rainey's first big hit. She used it to thrill audiences during performances simply by her chosen costuming and the way she staged her entry. The song needed to be able to accommodate that entry, and we can hear that in the recording. Thomas Dorsey, her pianist and band manager, vividly recalls what it was like to watch her enter as she sang "Moonshine Blues" and the crowd's reaction to it: Ma Rainey's act came on as a last number or at the end of the show. I shall never forget the excited feeling when the orchestra in the pit struck up her opening theme, music which I had written especially for the show. The curtain rose slowly and those soft lights on the band as we picked up the introduction to Ma's first song. We looked and felt like a million. Ma was hidden in a big box-like affair built like an old Victrola of long ago. This stood on the other side of the stage. A girl would come out and put a big record on it. Then the band picked up the Moonshine Blues. Ma would sing a few bars inside the Victrola. Then she would open the door and step out into the spotlight with her glittering gown that weighed twenty pounds and wearing a necklace of five, ten, and twenty dollar gold-pieces. The house went wild. It was as if the show had started all over again. Ma had the audience in the palm of her hand. Her diamonds flashed like sparks of fire falling from her fingers. The gold-piece necklace lay like a golden armor covering her chest. They called her the lady with the golden throat. (Lieb 28-30) Adams 25 Rainey and her band would perform hits such as this one night after night and receive numerous curtain calls. Even when she would perform different songs, the result would be the same. It was Rainey's performative nature that kept listeners buying records and coming to see her perform live time and time again. And while some may claim that other performers had just as much the ability to captivate audiences in the way Rainey did, if the people were expecting a Ma Rainey performance, no one else would do. Lieb reports an account of Rainey's band trying to still perform by hiding Ma's absence when she was detained by police in Tennessee for a full week: We still had Ma's trunk full of clothes, and we had another big girl on there, and she was about Ma's size.... We decided to open up and put some of Ma's clothes on this girl.... And so Ma's act come on, where she stepped out of this big Victrola thing. And this girl, she sang inside the box, but she she stepped out there, somebody hollered way up in the balcony, "That ain't none o' Ma Rainey! That ain't none o' Ma Rainey!" And the show closed right then. They fired us there and we stayed in the town. (31) Truly, it was less the song and more the performer that the audiences were looking for. The same song done by a different singer than Ma Rainey was not what her audiences were looking for, and if we look strictly at the accounts of performance, Rainey's rendition of "Moonshine Blues", especially in performance, was by far one of her most successful blues recordings and performances of her career. "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" and Blues Authenticity Much of the conversation that goes on about the music in this play, indeed nearly all of it, revolves around the song "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom." This song is not one that scholars Adams 26 consider a blues song structurally, but it is one that hearkens back to the Minstrelsy tradition. When Levee changes the musical arrangement to suit a more modernized crowd's musical tastes, he is changing the authenticity of the song that Ma Rainey intended for it. Rainey's musical performance history, steeped in the tradition of Minstrelsy, would have nothing to do with the "hot music" of Jazz. Instead, Rainey stuck to the musical traditions that had gained her success from the beginning of her career. Consequently, the argument about the song's arrangement calls for a discussion of authenticity versus innovation, and how the actions of the seemingly pushy and rogue Levee make an argument for the importance of maintaining the authenticity of older traditions in order to become an innovative musician. At a time when Jazz and Big Band Swing were becoming more and more in demand, Levee represents the transitional musician, the musician offered the opportunity to jump from the old era to the new, and he tries to do it through creating his own musical compositions. In order to be able to manage this transition, he must improvise and negotiate his way from blues tradition to jazz innovation. Wilson utilizes the majority of this play to explore this liminal space, utilizing the song "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" as a point to improvise on. Kim Pereira, in her chapter in The Cambridge Companion to August Wilson, discusses the play itself functioning as a blues composition, improvising on a theme and seeing where it ends up. Each character gets their solo time, and then allows for another person to have his or her say. The blues in the play give meaning to the characters', and the audiences', lives as Wilson "promotes a sense of community" throughout his work (69). Most of this negotiation occurs in the play when Rainey is offstage, allowing each musician to practice what it is they want to say with their instruments when the band records with Rainey. Adams 27 However, Levee seems to consistently strive to dominate the conversation, breaking the sense of community that revolves around Ma Rainey. Levee's consistent break with tradition in blues musical styling functions as foreshadow to his eventual job loss and oppression that cause his murderous break. Indeed, as Doris Davis states in her article '"Mouth's on Fire': August Wilson's Blueswomen," utilizing the blues, the characters stand at the crossroads and codify the journey the play's characters will take, improvising as they go along. And Levee's music, according to the introduction which Wilson gives us, is of a man whose "temper is rakish and bright. ... somewhat of a buffoon," who "plays trumpet' but is not as skilled as he should be, and as such "plays wrong notes frequently," and "often gets his skill and talent confused with each other" (23). The picture Wilson paints us from the beginning is one of a man who has plenty of ability to succeed, but also of a man who refuses to be mentored in order to succeed in a world that would happily exploit him. Like Ma Rainey, he is unwilling to compromise, but unlike her, he does not know how to successfully navigate the situations he finds himself in, because he will not learn when it is another person's turn to speak. This unwillingness to learn to navigate social and musical spheres exposes itself particularly well in his arrangement of "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom." The piece of music is a Ma Rainey staple for her shows, and in rearranging the music to better fit what the white establishment wants and what Levee sees as his ticket to stardom, he loses his willingness to negotiate and improvise off of the tradition to create something new. Instead of listening to Cutler, Toledo, and Slow Drag as they inform him that "You play Ma's music when you here," (27) "it's what Ma say that counts," and that no matter what Sturdyvant and Irvin have said to Levee, they're "gonna put out what Ma want" (37), Levee chooses to believe his less established authority will speak louder. Adams 28 When the band is rehearsing Levee's version of the song, which is sped up considerably and mainly features his trumpet skills, he has to encourage the other band members to keep up. Toledo, Slow Drag, and Cutler realize that Levee's version is too far different from what Ma Rainey would sing, but Levee, with his unwillingness to compromise on musical innovation in an attempt to please the white establishment, states, "She got to find her own way in" (38). Mary Bogumil, in her book Understanding August Wilson, describes this lack of cooperation as part of Levee's desire "to transform the traditional blues through the act of improvisation" and as part of his goal to be economically and ontologically successful (24). Furthermore, she states that he is unwilling to wait for that progress and success because "his means of liberation will be his music" (27). His personal quest for liberation, however, drowns out other voices, and in doing so, becomes an invalid form of liberation. While his musical innovation may be a useful way to freedom, Levee, in an artistic sense, has suppressed, reviled, and tried to forget the tradition of the song as it stands. He refuses to play "old jug-band music" (25). By refusing to accept the tradition the song comes from, Levee destroys the opportunity for him to be inspired by the tradition to create a negotiation between the old sound and the new, and in return, a negotiation between Ma Rainey's traditional style and his jazz-inspired style. It is this refusal to utilize the blues spirit of negotiation (and even the jazz spirit of negotiation which hearkens to blues) that leads to his dismissal after the recording session is finished. However, Rainey is also a seemingly non-negotiable force to be reckoned with during the recording of "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom." She refuses to utilize Levee's arrangement of the song in any form, instead insisting that the song be played just as she always sings it and that her stuttering nephew speak the intro to the song, much to Mr. Irvin's frustration. In standing up for Adams 29 what she wants against Mr. Irvin, Ma Rainey can be seen as a voice for the struggling Sylvester and those like him. But at the same time she is a voice for the voiceless, some scholars believe she fails to aid Levee in his discovery of the self. According to Doris Davis, in this case, Rainey's self- confidence asserted to demand the song be recorded as it was traditionally sung fails to help Levee come to find "validation not from a white world but through [his] own understanding" (172). Rainey, in essence, marginalizes Levee, his concerns, and his innovations by flat out refusing to sing the song in any way but the traditional. While she offers Sylvester the chance to gain his voice as he successfully manages to speak his lines without stuttering, she forces Levee into a position of economic exploitation by not allowing a space for his artistic vision. The irony of the entire situation, then, comes with the actual recording of the song. After three tries, they finally get Sylvester to properly say his lines so they can make it through the entire song, but, possibly a jab at the poor quality Paramount recordings of Rainey's work, the recording equipment is damaged and the song doesn't properly record. Neither version of the song gets a voice in a recorded sense. The song itself, as Jessica E. Teague states, is that there will always be some loss in relation to what hasn't been recorded, and Wilson captures this in his struggle to relay the issue of recordable, repeatable music and live performance through his struggle to create something live yet repeatable in theatrical format. Teague further explains that the audience comes to experience the idea that "although recording technology has the power to separate the voice from the body, it cannot erase the presence of embodied life in the voice" (568). Although I agree with this sentiment, I believe it can be pushed further to include the issue of marginalization. The music, as it is not recorded, is lost to history, and the music, when it is recorded as poorly as Adams 30 Paramount recorded, is marginalized in comparison to the more quality recordings of jazz and other music. The situation created here highlights what Bogumil describes in her chapter in The Cambridge Companion to August Wilson as Wilson's desire to "address and redress black issues of marginalization" that parents hid from their children, as well as to address the lack of recognition of great black historical and creative figures in America (57). The recording of the song "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" in the play highlights this tension and marginalization through the strained and ultimately ruined working relationship between Levee and Ma Rainey. It also highlights the white studio owner Sturdyvant and Rainey's manager Mr. Irvin as they try to get Rainey away from the jug-band sound of the song, an issue that can be easily sidelined in lieu of its small stage time in comparison to Rainey's and Levee's confrontation. From the beginning of the play, we are aware that Sturdyvant wants Irvin to get Rainey under control so that he won't have to deal with this "Queen of the Blues bullshit" (18). However, for all the fuss the white men make at the beginning of the play, after Irvin insists that he will "handle it" (18), the scene becomes sidelined for the action-packed discussion of the black band members. And while I in no way mean to diminish our focus on what is certainly intended to be the black men in the rehearsal room, I would like to point out the white exploitation of black music by utilizing the song "Hear Me Talking to You." Understanding how readily willing these men are to exploit Rainey's work for their financial gain helps us understand, if not justify, Rainey's complete shutdown of Levee's arrangement of her song. "Hear Me Talking to You": Gender Relations and Racial Power Structures Adams 31 When Sturdyvant and Irvin are discussing Ma Rainey's upcoming recording session, Sturdyvant's main concern is that the records sell, not the state of the musicians or the authenticity of their music. Sturdyvant states, "Times are changing.... We've got to jazz it up .. . put in something different. You know, something wild ... with a lot of rhythm. You know what we put out last time, Irv? We put out garbage last time. It was garbage. I don't even know why I bother with this anymore" (19). He sees no value in recording Ma Rainey as her audience would have enjoyed hearing her if that meant he didn't make as much money as he wanted to, and Sturdyvant isn't willing to deal with Rainey if he can't make any money off of her recordings. The only way Sturdyvant sees a way to make money with Rainey's recordings is through "that horn player" because "he wants to hear more of that sound" (19). Irvin quickly reminds Sturdyvant that he did quite well off of Rainey's recordings, just not in New York City or the Northern States. Soon after, Sturdyvant denies it's about the money, instead claiming that it is the business itself, that he needs to get into a "respectable business" (19). With this simple business conversation, Mr. Irvin and Sturdyvant have placed the role of black artist as unrespectable, reducing them to a role as similar to a publican or other unsavory job: the work makes them a decent living, but at the cost of having to work with an unrespectable, lesser race. It's as Toledo tells his fellow bandmembers: "We's the leftovers. The colored man is the leftovers" (57). And yet, Toledo and the band still make an effort to play the songs as Ma would want them played, to make themselves heard through their music, and to hope for a more equitable outcome that puts them on, if not equal footing, then at least more equal footing with the white artists, who were treated more equitably, as human beings. As Wilson told Bonnie Lyons about his characters, they never "respond as victims. No matter what society does to them, they are engaged with life, wrestling with it, trying to make sense out of it" (11). Toledo and the Adams 32 band look to make sense of their world and make it better through their engagement with it under the protection of Ma Rainey, who is better able to negotiate with the white recording companies. Cigdem Usekes, in his article '"We's the Leftovers': Whiteness as Economic Power and Exploitation in August Wilson's Twentieth-Century Cycle of Plays," argues that we need to look more closely at these white characters and their actions in order to more fully understand the economic manipulation and social exploitation Wilson details throughout his plays. Sturdyvant and Irvin take center stage as the whites who, as curators of black talent, can manipulate black performers to get the best or most popular music while shelling out the least amount of money, resulting in their financial gain. Usekes argues that, in the economic context of the play, "The black musicians in the recording business have no value as human beings for the white businessmen," and that as such, "blues musicians like Ma Rainey have not made much, if any, progress in the two decades between the twenties and the forties" (122). Although the white dehumanizing of the black artist can definitely be seen in Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, I disagree that Rainey hadn't made any progress toward humanization during the course of her career as expressed in Wilson's play. As Usekes can't help but imply in the article, Ma Rainey, as a character, disrupts the white characters' ability to easily exploit and dehumanize the black artist because she is already successful enough as a performer that she doesn't need the recording industry in order to survive financially. Thus, through Rainey, we are able to see the problem of white economic exploitation of blacks more clearly because she is able to broker a business deal on equal terms with the white men. Rainey represents an ownership of the blues that makes her a powerful force in economic negotiation between white studio owner and black artist. Adams 33 The song "Hear Me Talkin' To You" can be seen as a way that Ma Rainey uses to navigate such a precarious relationship between black artist and white studio owners, because the song itself, while an interesting compilation of couplets which discuss male/female relations, particularly sexual relations, can be viewed as a song that allows for an economic reading of those same lyrics. They offer tension between man and woman, with the woman ultimately coming out with the position of power, or if not definitively dominant, then a positive agent of her own body, and as such, they also allow for a reading of tension between Rainey and the white studio owners, with the owners getting what they want, but with Rainey asserting her necessity, and therefore power, in the economic relationship. I find the lyrics important enough for me to quote in their entirety here, that I might more fully analyze their integration into Wilson's play: Ramblin' man makes no change in me I'm gonna ramble back to my used to be Ah, you hear me talkin' to you, I don't bite my tongue You want to be my man, you got to fetch it with you when you come Eve and Adam, in the garden takin' a chance Adam didn't take time to get his pants Ah, you hear me talkin' to you, I don't bite my tongue You want to be my man, you got to fetch it with you when you come Our old cat swallowed a ball of yarn When the kittens was born, they had sweaters on Ah, you hear me talkin' to you, I don't bite my tongue You want to be my man, you got to fetch it with you when you come Adams 34 Hello, Central, give me 609 What it takes to get it in these hips of mine Ah, you hear me talkin' to you, I don't bite my tongue You want to be my man, you got to fetch it with you when you come Grandpa got grandma told He says her jelly roll was 'most too old Ah, you hear me talkin' to you, I don't bite my tongue You want to be my man, you got to fetch it with you when you come While on the surface, the lyrics are simply a collection of funny vignettes connected with a simple, repeated chorus, the couplets offer up more than simply humorous scenes for listeners. They show the tenuous relationship between a woman and her lover, where the woman demands to be listened to, is continually given the short end of the stick, but still manages to make the best of the situation. The situations are various in the song, starting with a rambling man that thinks he is going to change the woman with his rambling ways. Rambling may refer to wandering, but here it may specifically refer to a wavering resolve. The lover has promised the singer faithfulness, fidelity, love, or security, and has failed to give what was promised. Yet, instead of acting out and changing her ways so that the man will come back to her, she states, "I'm gonna ramble back to my used to be." In this arrangement between man and woman, the woman states that if he won't keep up his end of the deal, the promises he's made, then there is no reason for her to give him what he wants. The whole situation sounds very economic, and echoes Rainey's continued cries that if she doesn't get what she wants, whether that be a warmer room or a coke as was Adams 35 promised her, she will simply go back to her audience in the South and forget about recording her music with Sturdyvant and Irvin. Continuing on this same train of thought, the singer asserts that certain terms have to be met in order to procure her services. The chorus, the most repeated couplet in the song, offers a non-negotiable term. The singer states in the second line of the song, "You want to be my man, you got to fetch it with you when you come," offering up her non-negotiable requirement for sexual, or in the case of this reading, economic, relations. If someone wants the singer sexually, or if someone wants to work with the singer and make money, then that person must be able to properly satisfy the terms that the singer comes to that person with. In context of Sturdyvant and Irvin, they can badmouth Rainey and try to keep her in line all they want, but if they want to record her music and her voice, the product that will make them the money that they are after, then they had better provide Rainey with all that she asks for while recording so that they can record quickly and smoothly as well as get the best quality sound out of Rainey and her band. The quality of the relationship between parties—or the form of transaction—ultimately determines the quality end product, whether sex or recording. One of the most interesting artistic designs about this song comes in the next line. Eve is put before Adam in the lyric, opposite of how it is regularly quoted from the Bible and stated in Christian context. By placing the woman first, the singer has switched around the power dynamic, placing Eve as the complete individual, while Adam doesn't take the "time to get his pants," therefore leaving him exposed, slightly short of what he needs to fully recognized as a publicly decent individual. Economically speaking, this may be taken to mean that Eve, or Rainey in this context, has a complete set of skills and talents to offer that may benefit Adam, or the white man, Adams 36 economically, but by coming to her without being completely decent, he will fail to gain the full benefit of working with her. The singer has been given someone who is incomplete, and therefore difficult to work with because the singer's needs cannot be fully recognized, understood, and met. She can still work with what she has, but the pants-less Adam will not have all the tools necessary for her to succeed, so she must use what she is given in order to try to bring success for both parties. The next verse couplet, "Our old cat swallowed a ball of yarn/When the kittens was born, they had sweaters on," shows the creationary power inherent in female sexuality. The female, or cat, has taken incomplete, older pieces and created new life out of it. Even though the ball of yarn hasn't contributed complete material for the old cat to clothe her kittens with, the old female has the ability to work with what she's given, and a complete product that benefits her children is the outcome. Similarly, Rainey functions as a mother, protector, and creator in multiple ways. Labeled the "Mother of the Blues," Rainey is protector and creator of the blues tradition that she records, and as such serves to weave together the elements of the blues that will keep it in the public eye while at the same time honoring and preserving the roots it came from; as head of the band, she serves as economic protector to them, making sure that they get paid their fair share after the music is recorded, and she creates the music for them to play in order to make a living; for Dussie Mae she functions as a provider, even down to her clothing and daily sustenance, and as hinted at earlier in the blues song "Prove It on Me," Ma functions as a fulfiller of sexual desires as well; and finally, Rainey functions as a surrogate mother to her nephew Sylvester, who she hopes to guide to confidence and self-reliance through teaching him to create unique and Adams 37 valuable product in the blues. The roles Rainey fulfills in this play consistently fit with the couplet about the mother and her kittens in the song. The final two verse couplets in the song, with the sexual references 609 and the too old jelly roll, are easily understood on a sexual basis. Economically speaking, it may indicate that the singer's specialty is harder to come by and worth the extra payment or special treatment, as indicated by the line "What it takes to get it in these hips of mine." Rainey has something special or unique, and her product is worth the wait and special treatment she is asking for. The too old jelly roll, however, indicates a much less positive view of Rainey's work. Her material is getting too old, and people just don't want what she is offering anymore. Even the older folk, like grandpa, are looking for something tighter, something new and exciting. People have been okay to listen to the old standards, but there is a transition happening, and the "hot" music is no longer the blues. If Rainey can't offer that sweet horn sound that Sturdyvant wants, he is likely to end her recording contract (as historically we see happen in 1928). When combined with the setting of the play, the song's lyrics bring to light the importance and problems of the exploitative relationship between Mr. Sturdyvant, Mr. Irvin, and Ma Rainey. She may be seen as a doubly exploited figure, because as black she is looked at as less than human and economically exploited, and as woman she is looked on as inferior to even black men, doubling her inhumanity. She consistently struggles to gain the same footing that the men in the same business have. As a female blues singer, Rainey is in a unique position in her ability to fight for equality, even though the fight will be difficult. Nghana tamu Lewis states that while female empowerment in the blues may not always be represented explicitly through the lyrics, it always provides moments of recognition that women have some control over their lives through decision Adams 38 making and the consequences for those decisions, allowing the blues to help women recognize coping-mechanisms and deal with the realities of frustration and anxiety in male-female relations. Although Rainey may in fact fulfill this role for others through her music, there is no one there to help her feel empowered and to help her deal with the frustrations that economic exploitation brings. And while she is capable of asserting enough power and influence that she gets what she wants in order to record, the constant battle she must fight with the white recording studio owners and operators is simply wearing her out. She indicates as much to Cutler when she discusses her consistent struggle to be treated fairly in recording sessions: They ain't got what they wanted yet. As soon as they get my voice down on them recording machines, then it's just like if I'd be some whore and they roll over and put their pants on. Ain't got no use for me then. I know what I'm talking about. You watch. Irvin right there with the rest of them. He don't care nothing about me either.... If you colored and can make them some money, then you all right with them. Otherwise, you just a dog in the alley. I done made this company more money from my records than all the other recording artists they got put together. And they wanna balk about how much this session is costing them. (79) Rainey is well aware of how well her records sell and how many fans she has, particularly in the South. In 1928, her most successful year of her career, she would have been knowledgeable of how ridiculous it was for the studio owners to deny her a Coke that cost a nickel under the excuse that was an expense that they just weren't able to afford. Her loud assertions about the injustice of being a black female artist in a white male businessman's world may catch Cutler off guard, but do not surprise him when he thinks about Adams 39 it. He responds with simple, sympathetic one-liners: "I knows what you mean about that" and "I know how they do" (79). He is there as a sounding board for Rainey, to listen to and affirm that he understands her struggles as black musician, even if he can't fully understand them as black female musician. These musicians' experiences bring to the forefront the issue of the devaluing of blacks in American society. The experiences can be shared with the audience in a more personal manner because of the blues music, as the music articulates "the burden of marginalization" (Bogumil 22). Toledo recognizes this in regards to Ma Rainey when he tells her that her music is filled "up with something the people can't be without, Ma. That's why they call you the Mother of the Blues. You fill up that emptiness in a way that ain't nobody ever thought of doing before. And now they can't be without it" (83). Not only does her music bring hope to those who feel that they have no other way they can express themselves and their life experiences, both good and bad, but her music also allows for people to feel valued in the sense that their music is bringing their life stories to a more public eye, and audience of many races. And for Rainey herself, the music allows her to cope with the struggles in her own life. In the end, the only real comfort that Rainey finds from the constant exploitation is in her music—in the blues. Lewis states that the blues is non-reductive: the blues cannot represent the experiences of every individual, but it can represent some people, which makes it extremely important for listeners to take time to understand the hermeneutic process of the writers and singers of the blues. We, as listeners, should definitely read resistance, struggle, and a fight against injustice and for acceptance in much of the recorded music of the female blues singers, particularly in the way that Wilson portrays Rainey's music, but there is much more to the music, and it should not Adams 40 be reduced to the category of folk protest songs. In order to avoid narrowing our viewpoint to protest song alone, it is important to remember the multiple viewpoints of how the blues has functioned for black culture historically. Here are a few of the ideas from the scholars I've utilized in my work: Angela Davis asserts that the blues embody "intellectual independence and representational freedom" (3); Gantt believes that the blues allow for an exploration of relationships in many forms as well as cultural expectations of race, economics, and gender, among others, and to show ways to achieve a form of cultural and relational unity; Marybeth Hamilton states that for the people of the time period (Rainey's time period), the music was often hailed as a "voice of progressive social change" (144); Elijah Wald describes the blues quite broadly, with his "working definition of 'blues,' at least up to the 1960s, would be: 'Whatever the mass of black record buyers called "blues" in any period'" (7); and, quite possibly encompassing all of these definitions, Wilson himself indicates that the "blues is the best literature we have" (Shannon 540) because it carries cultural values and history. It is this marginalized blues history that Wilson is recognizing throughout his Pittsburgh Cycle plays, and Ma Rainey's Black Bottom stands out as one of his most overt discussion of that history along with The Piano Lesson. Wilson's investment in asking his audience to look more closely at blues music is possibly best expressed in the words he gives Ma Rainey to say about them: White folks don't understand about the blues. They hear it come out, but they don't know how it got there. They don't understand that's life's way of talking. You don't sing to feel better. You sing 'cause that's a way of understanding life.... The blues help you get out of bed in the morning. You get up knowing you ain't alone. There's Adams 41 something else in the world. Something's been added by that song. This be an empty world without the blues. Take that emptiness and try to fill it up in the morning.... I ain't started the blues way of singing. The blues always been there. (82-3) Wilson, speaking through Rainey, is calling whites out on their blatant misunderstanding of what the blues is at its core and for the marginalization of such an important black musical contribution. The irony of this calling on the carpet is that the largely white-based critic and academic circles discussing this and other of Wilson's plays may recognize that the blues is part of the plays, but choose to ignore the blues music Wilson has chosen to highlight in Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, arguably his most overtly blues-influenced play, in favor of discussions about male-female relations, economic exploitation, character development, and other aspects of his work. While these topics and more are important discussions to have in context of Wilson's plays, the discussions of the work are noticeably incomplete without dealing with the music he chooses to place in his work. This thesis has been an attempt, however incomplete and hardly definitive, at trying to fill the absence of direct musical analysis of Wilson's work in an effort to bring the marginalized musical genre to further critical attention. It is my hope that my closer examination of the four blues songs Wilson integrates, which had to have been carefully chosen from the many blues records he consumed over the twenty years it took him to write Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, further illuminates the need to look at the blues as a record of cultural history pertinent to better understanding not only Wilson's work, but the culture of the people that Wilson is representing through those works. Adams 42 Works Cited "Amiri Baraka Biography: Critic, Scholar, Civil Rights Activist, Poet (1934-2014)." bio. A&E Television Network. 2016. Web. 2 Mar 2016. Batiste, Jonathan and Loren Schoenberg. "Jazz and the Art of Civic Life." Provo, Utah. 7 February 2013. Interview. Bluesland: a Portrait in American Music. 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