THE GREAT AMERICAN SONGWRITERA Story by coopdville A legend or myth can often be misrepresented for the sake of a comfortable narrative of the past. The internet can be the most unreliable source and one should always rely on the written word. THE GREAT AMERICAN SONGWRITER
I wanted to do a follow up on an article I had written about Stephen Foster. A few points had to be fact-checked. so I consulted at least six on-line sites about Foster, a couple web encyclopedias, a web dictionary and several Foster bio-sites. It was shocking to find that they omitted the essence of his life and work. Mostly, it was a 4th of July whitewash of what had been a very troubled and tragic life. His brilliance as a songwriter and poet was mostly tragic and minimized in favor of the happier songs that became popular favorites. A massive contribution to American culture was reduced to the whimsical and amusing. They dismissed the many sad songs written as a result of the Civil War. Ignored were the tragic songs written about the loss of love and the wistful yearning for its return.
Foster was one of ten siblings from a musical family that lived in a suburb of Pittsburgh. Although they were a large family, they lived an affluent life. Stephen picked up the family aptitude for music, writing his first song at seven. He was a bright child that neglected his education in lieu of his obsession for music and songwriting. He had a beautiful wife and children, living an idyllic life in Pittsburgh. A white clapboard house, white picket fence and a shingle in the front announcing his services as an accountant. A comfortable life afforded by a husband and father that earned money at a lucrative profession. He was finding it increasingly difficult to endure, with the music being his love and passion. Increasingly he neglected his trade, losing himself in the music. He began to drink! He loved his wife and children dearly. Many future songs would be written longing for them, songs mythologizing his wife's great beauty and empathy. And thus, his empathetic wife uprooted the family from a comfortable life and moved to Bayonne, NJ so her husband could pursue musical opportunities.
The opportunities never came and Foster's drinking became worse. He was now a raging alcoholic. Drink was his obsession but the great creative flow of his musical writing still flourished. He was to write hundreds of songs and remain an unknown till the day he died. He earned a total of $15,000 for the music he published over a life-time. The drinking, the abusive rages, the melancholia and the impoverished life had driven his family away. His wife left and returned to Pittsburgh.
Foster moved to New York to be closer to the publishers. His drinking was worse, raging till he collapsed, he was melancholic to the point of hopelessness. He was penniless and living in a Manhattan flop-house. Here he wrote his greatest work. He did not play his music to support his craft, still unknown and unheard, but accepting as little as $5.00 for songs now famous, just so he could buy grog.
Stephen Foster never lived in the South! He did go to New Orleans once with his wife for Mardi Gras. Foster was passionate about the minstrel music that was gaining popularity in the North. A vestige of the Old South and a product of the “Jim Crow” life was a form of apartheid. Yet, it depicted antebellum culture as happy and gay, everyone content with their role in society. Foster's writing began to reflect this romanticized notion, depicting the black man as noble, intuitively wise and the “mammie” as the nurturing mothers they did not have in real life. In those days, it was not unusual for affluent mothers to show little affection to a child and often left that type of bonding to a “mammie” or “wet nurse.” This was Foster's longing, a desire for that happy place with the lazy winding Swanee River, with the majestic boats and their night time revelry. A longing for a place where people were happy with life, dancing and laughing their way through endless toil. There was kindness and understanding to be had from dear old “mammy”.
The Christy Minstrels began to play a few of Foster's happier pieces. It was sung mostly on one knee, hat in hand in burnt cork black face. This was the custom for all minstrel shows whether it was black or white. Ironic that the African-American entertainers had to don black-face to perform. But there was the Civil War and Foster grieved in his music for the many losses in a large family along with rest of the country. His drinking got even worse and his money evaporated, splendid inspiration for a creative force, but not for life! Foster's physical self was deteriorating from alcohol abuse. At long last he was found lying naked on the floor in a pool of blood. He had swooned and hit his head on the sink to be found by the chambermaid, half dead. The hospital took three hours to arrive and pronounce this country's greatest songwriter dead, probably from alcohol poisoning.
If you look for information on the internet, I found that the quality of information you get can vary tremendously. The story those sources told were simply fairy tales. This was not Stephen Foster's story!
THESE ARE FOSTER LYRICS FOR TWO OF HIS LESSER KNOWN SONGS. THIS IS STEPHEN FOSTER. NO ONE TO LOVE No
one to love in this beautiful world, No
one to love!
Dark
is the soul that has nothing to dwell on!
Many
a fair one that dwells on the earth
MY ANGEL BOY, I CAN NOT SEE THEE DIE My
Angel boy, thou'rt nearing fast
My
angel boy, my angel boy,
Thou,
only tie that binds my soul
My angel boy, my angel boy,
I
meekly bow before thy throne, © 2016 coopdville |
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Added on April 17, 2016 Last Updated on April 17, 2016 Tags: history, music, stephan foster, tragic, songwriter Author
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