A square dance in Minnesota (MNopedia)
“No one will believe that I like country music,” writes
James Alan McPherson, in the first sentence of his Pulitzer-winning short story
collection, Elbow Room. Who is ‘no
one?’ we might wonder. The speaker’s wife, Gloria, can endorse blues and bebop
but not “hillbilly stuff.” The speaker, an African American man, establishes his
fondness for the stringed sounds of banjos and fiddles. “But most of all,” he reveals,
“(I) like square dancing — the interplay between fiddle and caller, the
stomping, the swishing of dresses, the strutting, the proud turnings, the
laughter.” The title of the story, “Why I Like Country Music,” prepares the
reader for a defense, a quiet rebuke ostensibly aimed at the speaker’s wife.
The story travels to the South Carolina of the unnamed
fellow’s childhood, an infatuation with “a pretty, chocolate brown”
fourth-grader named Gweneth Lawson. Even as his rival Leon Pugh threatens to
monopolize Gweneth’s attention, the speaker triumphs by dancing with the girl
at the best moment, at a school-wide square dance in celebration of spring. Yet
the ‘no one’ might include a larger swath of skeptics. Surely, square dancing must
be the province of Appalachian whites. Upon witnessing the celebration by the Black
schoolchildren, the fictional superintendent of schools states, “Lord, y’all
square dance so good it makes me plumb ashamed us white folks ain’t takin’
better care of our art stuff.”
That statement may not signal an attempt, by the superintendent,
to gerrymander the estimable history of the square dance. To the contrary, it implies
that both groups—Blacks and whites alike—had been performing the dance for
quite some time. According to scholar Philip Jamison, enslaved Black fiddlers
played music at white dances in the late 1600s, and throughout the tens of
decades of their servitude. In an article published in The Journal of Appalachian Studies, Jamison describes the arrival
of European dances and dance figures—allemande, quadrille, dos-a-dos, cotillion,
promenade, and others—in the early years of the fledgling republic. Enslaved people
not only served as musicians for these dances, but began to dance these steps
themselves, alongside their own traditions. Jamison writes that cotillions,
quadrilles, the Virginia Reel, and African dances “co-existed at plantation ‘frolics’
during the first half of the nineteenth century.” Many were performed in “squares.”
The Bog Trotters
Band, photographed in Galax, Virginia in 1937 (Unknown
photographer,
courtesy of Lomax Collection at the U.S. Library of Congress).
The Mississippi ex-slave narrative of Isaac Stier not only
chronicled that men on his plantation “clogged and pigeoned,” but called the
dances as well. Stier recalled that “I use to call out de figgers: ‘Ladies,
sasshay, Gents to de lef’, now all swing.’ Ever’body lak my calls an’ de
dancers sho’ moved smooth an’ pretty. Long after de war was over de white folks
would ‘gage me to come ‘roun’ wid de band an’ call de figgers at all de big
dances. Dey always paid me well.” Referring to the callers of square dances, Jamison,
in his article, asserts that the first callers were African American and that
dance calling was common in black culture before it was adopted by whites and
became an integral part of the Appalachian dance tradition. Perhaps it followed
naturally from the call-and-response convention of African drum music, with the
response, in this case, being the dance steps themselves.
According to a variety of sources,
including Jamison, JStor Daily, and Smithsonian.com, the standard imagery of
white farmers engaging in country or “contra” dances, reels, and other social jamborees,
doesn’t often credit African American and even Native American musicians, who,
collectively, played banjo, fiddle, bass, and bugle, and struck the tambourine
with “terrible energy” while “crying out the figures.” Numerous historical accounts
situate African American enslaved people as well as free African American musicians
calling or “prompting” square dances in the pre-war South and Southern Appalachian
regions, yet other accounts situate similar events in the Great Lakes, New
England, Canada, and England. Eventually, white musicians adopted square dance
calling, which included instructions to the dancers and an element of
improvisation. The “caller,” once a fiddler himself, eventually became an emcee
without instrumental duties, one who would explain the movements to the
dancers.
Even as recording technology developed in the early twentieth century,
few traditional African American square dance callers dedicated versions of
their craft to cylinder or vinyl. Some recorded examples of square dance calls,
however, can be found. Father and son duo, Andrew and Jim Baxter, recorded “Georgia
Stomp” on the Victor label in 1929. Andrew (father, fiddle) and Jim (son,
guitar, vocals) notably performed with a white band, The Yellow Hammers, in
1927, which represents one of the first examples of integrated recordings in
Georgia. Another musician, Henry Thomas—featuring “voice, whistle, and guitar”—recorded
“The Fox and the Hounds” on Vocalion in 1927. Samuel Jones, also known as Stove
Pipe No. 1, and billed as “one man band with singing,” recorded “Turkey in the
Straw,” on the Columbia label in 1924. Pete Harris, one of the so-called “Black
Texicans,” recorded “Square Dance Calls (Little Liza Jane)” in 1934, a tune
that was collected by folklorist John Lomax. [Nota bene: There’s America’s
favorite poor gal, Liza Jane, once again; please note the publication of my book Poor Gal: The Cultural History of Little Liza Jane, which does include some square dance content.]
“Ho didy ho / Your baby just come from Kokomo.”
Other Black recording artists
carried notable square dance recordings into the mid-twentieth century. Look
for Long John Hunter’s “Old Rattler” on Yucca (1961) or Magic Sam’s “Square
Dance Rock, Part 2” on Chief (1960). Above, you can listen to Buddy Lucas’ “Ho
Didy Ho,” which appeared on Savoy in 1956. Lucas played tenor saxophone and
harmonica throughout his career. In addition to leading some memorable sessions
of his own, he turns up as sideman on quite a few stellar tracks and albums: Little
Willie John’s “Fever” (1956), Nina Simone
Sings the Blues (1967), Albert Ayler’s New
Grass (1968), The Blue Yusef Lateef
(1968), and Count Basie’s Afrique
(1971).
Many years before McPherson published his story, “Why I Like
Country Music,” the great Ray Charles released his crossover album, Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music
(1962). Charles, a celebrated African American pianist and singer, reinvented
twelve tunes typically associated with country artists, including “Hey Good
Lookin’” by Hank Williams. By then, perhaps, Charles had taken hold of a style
that had been influenced by both African American and white communities, maybe
more than once. It’s worth remembering that much American folklore and
mythology is precisely that—American, with far-ranging influences drawn from
numerous quarters. In an era when America is noteworthy for its divisions, we
ought to remember that call and response has influenced hillbilly tunes, and so
forth. In “Why I Like Country Music,” the schoolteacher, Mrs. Boswell, attempts
to deconstruct the aversion that the speaker initially professes, with respect to
square dancing. “The worse you are at dancing,” she says, “the better you can
square dance.” Representatives from each culture will blame the other for this
sentiment. Either way, the record player croons, “When you get to your partner
pass her by / And pick up the next girl on the sly.”
Howard University students square dancing in 1949 (Smithsonian Institution)
SOURCES OF
INFORMATION
Articles and Books
Erin Blakemore. “The Slave Roots of Square Dancing.” JStor Daily. June 16, 2107.
Kat Eschner. “Square Dancing Is Uniquely American.” Smithsonian.com. November 29, 2017.
Alan B. Govenar. Texas Blues: The Rise of a Contemporary Sound. Texas A&M University Press
(2008).
Philip Jamison. Hoedowns, Reels, and Frolics: Roots and Branches of Southern Appalachian Dance. University
of Illinois Press (2015).
Philip Jamison. “Square Dance Calling: The African American Connection.” Journal of Appalachian
Studies 9:2 (Fall 2003).
James Alan McPherson. “Why I Love Country Music.” From Elbow Room. Little, Brown (1977).
Clarence Page. “Cultural Appropriation? Try Cultural Sharing.”
Chicago Tribune. April 11, 2017.
Isaac Stier. Slave Narrative
Discography
Andrew and Jim Baxter “Georgia Stomp” (1928). Also see Wikipedia
Pete Harris “Square Dance Calls (Little Liza Jane)” (1934)
Long John Hunter “Old Rattler” (1961)
Buddy Lucas “Ho Didy Ho” (1956). Also see Wikipedia
Magic Sam “Square Dance Rock, Part 2” (1960)
Stovepipe No. 1, aka Samuel Jones, “Turkey in the Straw” (1924)
Henry Thomas “The Fox and the Hounds” (1927)
