Music Makes Me: Fred Astaire and Jazz

Chapter 9: “You play and I’ll dance”

271 “You play and I’ll dance” chapter 9 In 1935 Astaire gave an interview to The Chicago Defender, an African American newspaper with national reach. Like all black newspapers, the Defender followed entertainment news closely: it was an area where black individuals excelled on the national stage. Prominent use of black performers in “The Carioca” suggested to some in the African American community that Astaire’s future films might provide further openings for black song-and-dance talent on the big screen. Going to the source, the Defender’s reporter wanted to know if Astaire’s ascendant star promised more possibilities for “Race” performers. Fred Astaire Tells Race Dancers to Be Original “Flying Down to Rio,” RKO’s big 1933 sensation, did two things for the Race. It gave Etta Moten her big chance as the singer of “Carioca” and showed that Race dancers could not only master Fred Astaire’s most intricate steps but add considerable individuality to them. Although sepia steppers did not get an opportunity to do the “Continental” in his recent Gay Divorcee, he declares that in some future film he will again include them. Incidentally, he advises Race dance acts to create rather than fall into the ruts. “Eternal practice and constant creative work is the price of success in dancing,” according to Fred Astaire, the wing-footed star currently appearing in RKO-Radio Pictures musical romance, Roberta, with Irene Dunne and Ginger Rogers. Astaire has been dancing for more than 20 years, and he works harder today than ever he has before. Harder, because each achievement gives him something to top. 272 | Astaire in Jazz and Popular Music “One cannot stand still, either literally or figuratively, and stay at the pinnacle as a dancer,” Astaire states emphatically. “And to go backward is to start the swift toboggan that leads to oblivion. There is only one direction to go—forward. And that means constant creative work. “One simply can’t get to the top or stay there just by mastering a lot of intricate steps and routines,” Astaire said earnestly. “You have to create. To think up new stuff and perfect it. I wouldn’t last long in pictures, or on the stage, if I kept doing the same dances over and over again. “The creative work is the most difficult, as well as the most interesting phase of dancing. Naturally, it is woven in with the practice so it helps to keep that part of the work from becoming routine drudgery. I mean that new steps are evolved from experimenting in practice and the regular workouts stimulate fresh ideas.”1 Astaire comes off as surprisingly voluble in this, his only known interview with the black press. His emphasis on creation and practice reinforce the image of Astaire presented in the previous chapters as a disciplined maker of dances, obsessed with finding “fresh ideas.” But the advice he gives could hardly be taken at face value by aspiring black dancers in Hollywood. Opportunities were too few and too far between : there was never a chance for a black Fred Astaire to emerge in the studio era. Astaire surely understood this, but by adopting an upbeat tone he emphasized that creativity would find its way in the world. Hopeful black dancers and musicians who carved out professional careers had to have believed the same. Astaire’s personal views about race remain opaque, although the article suggests he viewed black performers as his creative peers. (Around this time Astaire met the Nicholas Brothers on the lot at RKO. Silent home movies capture some danced clowning around by the threesome.)2 The only news in the Defender interview was a promise “that in some future film [Astaire] will again include” African American dancers . Astaire kept his word—sort of. He brought a black dancer into a film routine only once after “The Carioca.” Made almost twenty years later, “A Shine on Your Shoes”in The Band Wagon featured LeRoy Daniels, an African American shoe shiner whose downtown Los Angeles stand was a familiar landmark to the makers of the film. Daniels was not a professional performer. He danced with Astaire during part of the routine but did not sing. The sounds of his brushes and rags were dubbed in by others , and possibly by Astaire himself. “A Shine on Your Shoes” stands outside the norms of Astaire’s routines, not fitting into any larger pattern in his work. The black performers Astaire did bring into his numbers...