In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

172 lost sounds spirituals. His piano accompanist was Fletcher Henderson, now freelancing since the recent demise of Black Swan. After a second session in February 1924 to obtain additional takes, two titles were released in August 1924. The Burleigh arrangement of “Deep River” was sung in a deep, reverent style, so low he was almost singing as a basso.R.NathanielDett’s“I’mSoGladTroubleDon’tLastAlway”displayedthesame deep bass, although sung in a slightly higher register. Both sides featured the careful phrasing, intonation, and emotional intensity characteristic of Clark’s performances over the years. They reveal that although he had changed his repertoire and style of delivery somewhat over the years, Carroll Clark was at the peak of his vocal power. The two sides were released on a single disc in August 1924, joining in the catalog two Columbia discs made long ago (“De Little Old Log Cabin in de Lane” and “Carry Me Back to Tennessee” / “Massa’s in the Cold, Cold Ground”). All were deleted in the mass changeover to electrical recordings in 1925–26. The February 1924 session, in fact, was to be Clark’s last. He never recorded electrically , which is our loss as well as his. Aside from an obscure later reissue on Paramount , his recordings were all out of print by the late 1920s. It is believed that he continued to appear at restaurants, churches, and clubs in the New York area for a numberofyears.Hislastlistinginthecitydirectoryisin1924,attheWest137thStreet Harlemaddress;however,thephonebooklistsa“ClarenceClark”(thesame?)nearby at 300 East 126th until 1928. One writer states that he “sang in high class restaurants and at concerts and in churches until at least 1929; occasionally at the Lafayette Theater , New York (1925), and with the Happy Rhone or Allie Ross Orchestras.”18 After that, and while still in his forties, Carroll Clark simply disappeared. What became of him is one of the mysteries of this field. One modern writer speculated that he might have been killed in a traffic accident in 1933, but that turned out to be a different Carroll Clark.19 In fact there are numerous Carroll Clarks, C. Carroll Clarks, Clarence C. Clarks, and so on, in various directories of the period, any of whom might be him.20 Whatever his fate, the baritone Carroll Clark left us with a legacy of fine recordings of both popular and art music dating back to the early days of the industry. His training and good taste was in evidence whenever he sang, and his contributions should be recognized in any history of African Americans and early recording. 13 Charley Case: Passing for White? Charley Case has one of the more fascinating stories among early recording artists. A popular monologuist whose droll, low-key style and offbeat observations about human nature are reminiscent of Bert Williams, Will Rogers, and in more recent times Bill Cosby, Case had a very successful career in vaudeville. He toured the major white circuits for more than twenty-five years and recorded for America’s biggest record label. However, the circumstances of his death—by self-inflicted gunshot wound—are shrouded in mystery. Was it an accident or suicide brought on by the pressures on a man of mixed race who spent his life “passing for white”? 03.153-234_Broo 12/17/03, 1:45 PM 172 173 Modern references to Case uniformly assume that he was black, or of mixed race, as did many of his contemporaries. Others at this time assumed he was white. New research only deepens the mystery of his true racial identity. We will probably never know for sure. Whatever Case’s ethnicity, his story is a fascinating tale of the phenomenon of “passing for white,” and the reasons for it, and is well worth considering here for that reason alone. The following incorporates new research into Case’s story and may bring this amiable man of mystery into a little clearer focus. The main thing we know about Charley Case is that his stories were not racial but about basic human nature, and they remain funny and relatable today. Charles M. Case was born in Lockport, in upstate New York, on August 27, 1858, to Moses and Catherine (Kate) Martin Case. Moses (1825–85) was born in Indiana and Kate (1840–c. 1888) in Ireland; although both were listed in census reports as “Caucasian,” one later account said that Kate was an albino.1 Moses had lived in Erie County, New York, for most of his life...

Share