An Autobiography On Louis Armstrong Essay, Research Paper
Birth-August 4, 1901, New Orleans, Louisiana, USA, Death-July 6, 1971, New York City, New
York, USA. It is impossible to overstate Louis ‘Satchmo’ Armstrong’s importance in jazz. He
was one of the most influential artists in the music’s history. He was also more than just a jazz
musician, he was an enormously popular entertainer and although other black jazz men and
women would eventually be welcomed in the upper echelons of white society, Armstrong was
one of the first. He certainly found his way into millions of hearts otherwise closed to his kind.
Had Armstrong been born white and privileged, his achievement would have been extraordinary;
that he was born black and in desperately deprived circumstances makes his success almost
miraculous. Armstrong achieved this astonishing breakthrough largely by the sheer force of his
personality.
Louis Armstrong was born and raised in and around the notorious Storyville district of New
Orleans. His exact date of birth only became known in the 90s, although for many years he
claimed it to be 4 July 1900, a date which was both patriotic and easy to remember and, as some
chroniclers have suggested, might have exempted him from army service. Run-down apartment
buildings, many of them converted to occasional use as brothels, honkytonks, dance halls and
even churches, were his surroundings as he grew up with his mother and younger sister. His
childhood combined being free to run the streets with obligations towards his family, who
needed him to earn money. His formal education was severely restricted but he was a bright
child and swiftly accumulated the kind of wisdom needed for survival; long before the term
existed, Louis Armstrong was ’streetwise’. From the first he learned how to hustle for money
and it was a lesson he never forgot. Even late in life, when he was rich and famous, he would
still regard his career as a ‘hustle’. As a child, apart from regular work, among the means he had
of earning money was singing at street corners in a semi-formal group. Armstrong’s life
underwent a dramatic change when, still in his early teens, he was sent to the Colored Waifs
Home. The popularly supposed reason for this incarceration, encouraged by Armstrong’s
assisted autobiography, was that, in a fit of youthful exuberance he had celebrated New Year’s
Eve (either 1912 or 1913) by firing off a borrowed pistol in the street. Whatever the reason, the
period he spent in the home changed his life. Given the opportunity to play in the home’s band,
first as a singer, then as a percussionist, then a bugler and finally as a cornetist, Armstrong found
his m tier. From the first, he displayed a remarkable affinity for music, and quickly achieved an
enviable level of competence not only at playing the cornet but also in understanding harmony.
Released from the home after a couple of years, it was some time before Armstrong could afford
to buy an instrument of his own, but he continued to advance his playing ability, borrowing a
cornet whenever he could and playing with any band that would hire him. He was, of course,
some years away from earning his living through music but took playing jobs in order to
supplement earnings from manual work, mainly delivering coal with a horse and cart. Through
his late teens, Armstrong played in many of the countless bands that made their home in New
Orleans, gradually working his way upwards until he was in demand for engagements with some
of the city’s best bands. The fact that Armstrong’s introduction to music came through the
home’s band is significant in that he was inducted into a musical tradition different from that
which was currently developing into the newly emergent style known as jazz. The Waif’s Home
band played formal brass band music that placed certain demands upon musicians, not least of
which were precision and an ornate bravura style. When Armstrong put this concept of music to
work with the ideals of jazz, it resulted in a much more flamboyant and personalized musical
form than the ensemble playing of the new New Orleans jazz bands. Not surprisingly, this
precocious young cornet player attracted the attention of the city’s jazz masters, one of whom,
Joe ‘King’ Oliver, was sufficiently impressed to become his musical coach and occasional
employer. By the time that Armstrong came under Oliver’s wing, around 1917, the older man
was generally regarded as the best cornetist in New Orleans and few challenged his position as
‘the King’.
Already displaying signs of great ambition, Armstrong knew that he needed the kind of
advancement and kudos King Oliver could offer, even though Oliver’s style of playing was
rather simplistic and close to that of other early New Orleans cornetists, such as nearcontemporaries Keppard, Freddie and Buddy Petit. Much more important to Armstrong’s career
than musical tuition was the fact that his association with Oliver opened many doors that might
otherwise have remained closed. Of special importance was the fact that through Oliver, the
younger man was given the chance to take his talent out of the constrictions of one city and into
the wide world beyond the bayous of Louisiana. In 1919 Oliver had been invited to take a band
to Chicago, and by 1922 his was the most popular ensemble in the Windy City. Back in New
Orleans, Armstrong’s star continued to rise even though he declined to stay with Ory when the
latter was invited to take his band to Los Angeles. Armstrong, chronically shy, preferred to stay
in the place that he knew; but when Oliver sent word for him to come to Chicago, he went. The
reason he overcame his earlier reluctance to travel was in part his ambition and also the fact that
he trusted Oliver implicitly. From the moment of Armstrong’s arrival in Chicago the local
musical scene was tipped onto its ear; musicians raved about the duets of the King and the young
pretender and if the lay members of the audience did not know exactly what it was that they were
hearing, they certainly knew that it was something special.
For two years Oliver and Armstrong made musical history and, had it not been for the piano
player in the band, they might well have continued doing so for many more years. The piano
player was Lillian Hardin, who took a special interest in the young cornetist and became the
second major influence in his life. By 1924 Armstrong and Hardin were married and her
influence had prompted him to quit Oliver’s band and soon afterwards to head for New York. In
New York, Armstrong joined Henderson, Fletcher’s orchestra, bringing to that band a quality of
solo playing far exceeding anything the city had heard thus far in jazz. His musical ideas, some
of which were harmonies he and Oliver had developed, were also a spur to the writing of
Henderson’s staff arranger, Don (The) Redman. Armstrong stayed with Henderson for a little
over a year, returning to Chicago in 1925 at his wife’s behest to star as the ‘World’s Greatest
Trumpeter’ with her band. Over the next two or three years he recorded extensively, including
the first of the famous Hot Five and Hot Seven sessions and as accompanist to the best of the
blues singers, among them Smith, Bessie, Smith, Clara and Smith, Trixie. He worked
ceaselessly, in 1926 doubling with the orchestras of Carroll Dickerson and Erskine Tate, and
becoming, briefly, a club owner with two of his closest musical companions, Hines, Earl and
Zutty Singleton. By the end of the decade Armstrong was in demand across the country, playing
important engagements in Chicago, New York, Washington, Los Angeles (but not New Orleans,
a city to which he hardly ever returned).
By the 30s, Armstrong had forsaken the cornet for the trumpet. He frequently worked with name
bands yet equally often travelled alone, fronting whichever house band was available at his
destination. He worked and recorded in Los Angeles with Les Hite ’s band (in which the
drummer was Hampton, Lionel ), and in New York with Webb, Chick. In 1932 and 1933 he
made his first visits to Europe, playing to largely ecstatic audiences, although some, accustomed
only to hearing him on record, found his stage mannerisms – the mugging and clowning, to say
nothing of the sweating – rather difficult to accommodate. From 1935 onwards Armstrong
fronted the Russell, Luis orchestra, eclipsing the remarkable talents of the band’s leading
trumpeter, Henry ‘Red’ Allen. In 1938 Louis and Lillian were divorced and he married Alpha
Smith. However, by 1942 he had married again, to Lucille Wilson, who survived him. In some
respects, the swing era passed Louis Armstrong by, leading some observers to suggest that his
career was on a downward slide from that point on. Certainly, the big band Armstrong fronted in
the 30s was generally inferior to many of its competitors, but his playing was always at least as
strong as that of any of the other virtuoso instrumentalist leaders of the era. His musical style,
however, was a little out of step with public demand, and by the early 40s he was out of vogue.
Since 1935 Armstrong’s career had been in the hands of Joe Glaser, a tough-talking, hard-nosed
extrovert whom people either loved or hated. Ruthless in his determination to make his clients
rich and famous, Glaser promoted Armstrong intensively. When the big band showed signs of
flagging, Glaser fired everyone and then hired younger, more aggressive (if not always musically
appropriate) people to back his star client. When this failed to work out, Glaser took a cue from
an engagement at New York’s Town Hall at which Armstrong fronted a small band to great
acclaim. Glaser set out to form a new band that would be made up of stars and which he planned
to market under the name Louis Armstrong And His All Stars. It proved to be a perfect format
for Armstrong and it remained the setting for his music for the rest of his life – even though
changes in personnel gradually made a nonsense of the band’s hyperbolic title.
With the All Stars, Armstrong began a relentless succession of world tours with barely a night
off, occasionally playing clubs and festivals but most often filling concert halls with adoring
crowds. The first All Stars included Tea garden, Jack, Barney Bigard , Hines, Earl and Big
Catlett, Sid ; replacements in the early years included Young, Trummy, Hall, Edmond, Kyle,
Billy and William ‘Cozy’ Cole. Later substitutes, when standards slipped, included Russell
Moore, Joe Darensbourg, and Deems, Barrett. Regulars for many years were bassist Arvell Shaw
and singer Middleton, Velma. The format and content of the All Stars shows (copied to dire and
detrimental effect by numerous bands in the traditional jazz boom of the 50s and 60s) were
predictable, with solos being repeated night after night, often note for note. This helped to fuel
the contention that Armstrong was past his best. In fact, some of the All Stars’ recordings, even
those made with the lesser bands, show that this was not the case. The earliest All Stars are
excitingly presented on Satchmo At Symphony Hall and New Orleans Nights, while the later
bands produced some classic performances on Louis Armstrong Plays W. C. Handy and Satch
Plays Fats. On all these recordings Armstrong’s own playing is outstanding. However, time
inevitably took its toll and eventually even Armstrong’s powerful lip weakened. It was then that
another facet of his great talent came into its own. Apparent to any who cared to hear it since the
20s, Armstrong was a remarkable singer. By almost any standards but those of the jazz world,
his voice was beyond redemption, but through jazz it became recognized for what it was: a
perfect instrument for jazz singing. Armstrong’s throaty voice, his lazy-sounding delivery, his
perfect timing and effortlessly immaculate rhythmic presentation, brought to songs of all kinds a
remarkable sense of rightness. Perfect examples of this form were the riotous ‘(I Want) A Butter
And Egg Man’ through such soulfully moving lyrics as ‘(What Did I Do To Be So) Black And
Blue’, ‘Do You Know What It Means To Miss New Orleans’, and countless superb renditions of
the blues. He added comic absurdities to ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’ and over-sentimentality to
‘It’s A Wonderful World’, which in 1968 gave him a UK number 1 hit. He added texture and
warmth and a rare measure of understanding often far exceeding anything that had been put there
by the songs’ writers. Additionally, he was one of the first performers to sing scat (the
improvisation of wordless vocal sounds in place of the formal lyrics), and certainly the first to do
so with skill and intelligence and not through mere chance (although he always claimed that he
began scatting when the sheet music for ‘Heebie Jeebies’ fell on the floor during a 1926
recording session and he had to improvise the words). It was in his late years, as a singer and
entertainer rather than as a trumpet star, that Armstrong became a world figure, known by name,
sight and sound to tens of millions of people of all nationalities and creeds, who also loved him
in a way that the urchin kid from the wrong side of the tracks in turn-of-the-century New Orleans
could never have imagined.
Armstrong’s world status caused him some problems with other black Americans, many of
whom believed he should have done more for his fellow blacks. He was openly criticized for the
manner in which he behaved, whether on stage or off, some accusing him of being an Uncle Tom
and thus pandering to stereotypical expectations of behaviour. Certainly, he was no militant,
although he did explode briefly in a fit of anger when interviewed at the time of the Civil Rights
protests over events in Little Rock in 1958. What his critics overlooked was that, by the time of
Little Rock, Armstrong was almost 60 years old, and when the Civil Rights movement hit its full
stride he was past the age at which most of his contemporaries were slipping contentedly into
retirement. To expect a man of this age to wholeheartedly embrace the Civil Rights movement,
having been born and raised in conditions even fellow blacks of one or two generations later
could scarcely comprehend, was simply asking too much. For almost 50 years he had been an
entertainer – he would probably have preferred and used the term ‘hustler’ – and he was not
about to change. Louis Armstrong toured on until almost the very end, recovering from at least
one heart attack (news reports tended to be very cagey about his illnesses – doubtless Joe Glaser
saw to that). He died in his sleep at his New York home on 6 July 1971. With only a handful of
exceptions, most trumpet players who came after Armstrong owe some debt to his pioneering
stylistic developments. By the early 40s, the date chosen by many as marking the first decline in
Armstrong’s importance and ability, jazz style was undergoing major changes. Brought about
largely by the work of Parker, Charlie and his musical collaborators, chief among whom was
trumpeter Gillespie, Dizzy, jazz trumpet style changed and the Armstrong style no longer had
immediate currency. However, his influence was only sidetracked; it never completely
disappeared, and in the post-bop era the qualities of technical proficiency and dazzling technique
that he brought to jazz were once again appreciated for the remarkable achievements they were.
In the early 20s Louis Armstrong had become a major influence on jazz musicians and jazz
music; he altered the way musicians thought about their instruments and the way that they played
them. There have been many virtuoso performers in jazz since Armstrong first came onto the
scene, but nobody has matched his virtuosity or displayed a comparable level of commitment to
jazz, a feeling for the blues, or such simple and highly communicable joie de vivre. Louis
Armstrong was unique. The music world is fortunate to have received his outstanding
contribution.
ED PROW
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