John Hurt: Last Chord Diminished

What the writer of this smart alek article seems to be unaware of is that those other electric bands rode to fame on the likes of John Hurt's back. He trivializes the social networks that collected the 78s, searched for the singers, brought them to light--and to some money--in the cloistered little bubble of an 'inner' folk world, and made them an enduring symbol of passive resistance against oppression, without ever having to mention the word. He's right about the stoicism. Some of his statements are factually incorrect."

--- Andrew Cohen

John Hurt: Last Chord Diminished 

By John Lombardi - Louisville Courier-Post - June 4, 1967

Mississippi John Hurt is dead. And this is a delayed-reaction post modem. Which is okay because a lot of things that happened to the 72-year-old blues singer were "delayed."

Like his success.

A folklore enthusiast and writer, Tom Hoskins, found him cleaning out a livery stable near his home town of Avalon, Miss., back in 1960. He persuaded John to journey up to the Newport Folk Festival that year and perform for the then-burgeoning crowd of "authentic" blues and country music purists who were beginning to create the market that has boomed and died since.

"Electrified Critics"

John went up, with a borrowed guitar, and didn't exactly electrify the audience. He "electrified" a small nucleus of critics, writers who were influential later in folk music publications like "Sing Out" and "The Little Sandy Review," and who "interpreted" John's worth for the new record buyers.

He caught on slowly but surely, until it was suddenly very "in" to dig his intricate finger-picking and gentle blues vocals. That was in 1963-65.

Then he began to subside, like unamplified folk music generally, and to give way to post-hip electric-rock and acid-rock blues groups like the Paul Butterfield Band, the Blues Project, and later the Mothers of Invention and the Lovin' Spoonful.

"Albums Sold Well"

By 1966 when most of the "new" folk clubs around the country were regularly booking rock, John was still appearing but not really "drawing."

But his four albums had sold well, and his appearances guaranteed him an income for the rest of his life.

John had cut records earlier, back in the 20s and early 30s for old labels like Caedmon and Bluebird, and he'd been praised then as a "natural virtuoso," but with the Depression, money to buy such luxuries as records dried up. Especially among rural and urban Negro audiences.

"Success Fades"

(Real collectors, with the money to spend, were able to go on buying blues records and tapes, but they didn't constitute a large enough public to sustain too many careers.)

So after a brief period of comparative success, John faded back into rural Avalon.

One groovy thing about him was an ability to ride-with-it. He had a kind of easy-going stoicism, an ability to bend without breaking—and bend pretty far. He smiled at you—you couldn't miss it.

"Just Make 'Em Up"

And John didn't consider himself any guitar virtuoso. He made up a lot of the chords he played, and his chord progressions could get rather obviously repetitious, even to an inexperienced blues listener.

"I just make 'em up (chords) and fit 'em in where they sound right," he told an interviewer last year.

He always liked to tell it like it was.

One night at the 2nd Fret in Philadelphia, during the height of his popularity, he looked down from the tiny wooden stage at a ringside couple and smiled; "I seen trouble all my days." Then he sang "I Love My Baby By the Lovin' Spoonful," and you knew he wasn't jiving.

"Like the Janitor"

He'd come in a short time before, a little early, to catch the end of Jesse Colin Young's act. Jesse, at the time, was a rising young folk star and, for my money, the best of the white blues singers.

John had on a wrinkled old see-through white shirt, baggy, street-colored pants and his ever-present, turned-down, flop-felt hat. He looked like the janitor.

He came sidling in, slowly, along the wall, then worked himself as unobtrusively as possible past some ringside customers and settled in a corner.

"Encounter Angers Patron"

Courier Post, Jan 14, 1967.

Before getting to his seat though. John stepped on a man's foot. The guy was with his wife, and they were both in their late 20s with lank, pale hair and blue eyes and just in from Narberth or Bryn Mawr or St. David's to see the great John Hurt.

The man winced and kind of drew back, then exchanged a look with his wife that might have meant nothing more than "my foot hurts," but looked more like "who is that damned black janitor anyway?"

John didn't say "excuse me" or anything and the man went on looking outraged and kept casting furious glances at him for the rest of the act, until some people sitting behind him noticed who it was and began whispering: "That's Mississippi John Hurt, John Hurt, Hurt, Hurt, Hurt . . ." just like Tom Wolfe says they always do.


Got a Light?

The outraged guy was shocked.

John stood up, still smiling from Jesse's fine blues, and fished a cigarette out of his shirt pocket. Then he began fumbling for a match.

He wasn't fast enough.

The guy from Narberth or Bryn Mawr stuck a lighter in his face and offered, with bounteous good-fellowship and the-proper-amount-of-respect-for-such-a-really-great-artist: "Here John, I've got your light."

Hurt was grinning as he accepted.

Levon Helm on the Delta Cultural Center at Helena - June 28, 1988

Levon Helm ( c. early 2000s)

(making his case for one element of the Lower MS Delta Develepmont Act before the committees on Environment and Public Works and Small Business in the US Senate)

"Mr. Chairmen, while economic progress must take place, there is no reason why this progress should so drastically change our way of life that we lose our culture, that sense of who we are. That is perhaps the most important reason that this commission should pursue projects like the Delta Cultural Center in Helena, Arkansas which would help to preserve and interpret the rich cultural heritage of the Arkansas and Mississippi Delta region. Through organized events, exhibits, and programs, this center would give the people of the Delta the sense of community that is so badly needed there as well as work to preserve the region's unique cultural aspects. I have seen the importance of doing this through my work at the Helena Blues Festival. This October will be the 3rd year that the event has taken place and I would like to take this time to invite each of you to come and join us. You could then understand what an event such as the Festival can do for the morale of the people in that area."

Helm proved a powerful force in Helena and Washington D.C.  Having come up in Marvell, the famous drummer/singer was an eager ambassador for Arkansas.  He had been the feature artist at the 1987 King Biscuit Blues Festival, which served as a major step up towards welcoming as many as 40,000 in 1988 and over 100,000 in the early nineties.  His support of the cultural center in Helena may have been the final, deciding factor in the decision of the governor in 1989.  

Levon Helm in early 1990s

At the historical setting of Centennial Baptist Church, Gov. Bill Clinton recently unveiled plans for the new Arkansas Delta Cultural Center in Helena. Economists project that within 5 to 6 years the center will bring between $3 and $6.5 million into the local economy as well as create 134 new jobs in the newly-created tourism and tourism-related industries.  “It has been my vision for many years to establish a center that preserves the history and culture of the people of the Arkansas Delta,” Clinton informed, and he wanted to recognize the people who developed the region into a “land of opportunity and economic prosperity.”  In his vision, the center celebrated the “rich culture and dramatic past as well as symbolizing hope” in overcoming all the challenges “to make the Delta of tomorrow a better place.”  Clinton made the announcement at a press conference prior to the opening of-the Arkansas Public Hearing of the Lower Mississippi Delta Development Commission. The site of the news conference, Centennial Baptist Church, is one of a handful of existing turn-of-the-century buildings in downtown Helena. It was designed by African American  architect, Henry James Price, and built in 1905 at a cost of $30,000.

Daily Arkansas Gazette, Aug 31, 1912.

The first phase of a six-phase, $8.5 million historic preservation and cultural resource management initiative was to restore the Missouri-Pacific Railroad depot in Helena and establish a visitor’s center for researchers and tourists.  Built in 1912, the depot’s once enjoyed a bustling lobby filled with passengers, and architects planned to restore the almost eighty year-old room to look much like it did in its earliest years.  The information desk, in addition, would look like “an old depot or bank teller window,” and it would provide maps and other information about historic sites and events across the Delta.  The center was going to feature an exhibit titled: “The Arkansas Delta: A Landscape of Change,” which revealed the diverse nature of experiences in the Delta through a series of panels featuring text and photographs as well as videos, documents, and artifacts   The initial display, “River Country,” explained the difficulties of the natural environment that impeded settlement in the Delta, and it employed the use of film to show historic newsreels of floods as well as workers building a levee.  The artifacts included in “Life on the Frontier” helped demonstrate the acerbic nature of life for the early settlers.  By constructing an exhibit using farm implements, murals depicting farming methods, and footage of farming in the early half of the twentieth century, “Rural Life: Living on the Land” explained the persistent historical role of agricultural development in Mississippi.  Other panels describe the social and cultural life of Native Americans in the Arkansas Delta, explain the geographical attraction that drew large groups of immigrant’s merchants to the region, interprets the significance of the Civil War as well as the complexities of racial discourse in the New South.  Children as well as adults, moreover, have the opportunity to climb into the navigator seat of a caboose, which sits adjacent to the property.

Daily Arkansas Gazette, Sep 24, 1912.

The following phases of the project included the development of an interpretive walking tour along the Mississippi River, the procurement a few suitable buildings: 1) to establish an archive and an art gallery, 2) to setup an interpretive center and house major exhibits, and 3) to open a twenty-five room bed and breakfast.[1]   The bed and breakfast will be housed in the Missouri Pacific Railroad depot which is located near the Mississippi River levee in downtown Helena. The Union Pacific Railroad and the City of Helena were responsible for the donation of the building and grounds for the centerpiece of the project. With the renovation of the historic depot beginning in October, the architectural workers hoped to complete their work in less than a year, which might allow its grand opening to coincide with the annual King Biscuit Blues Festival.

Daily Arkansas Gazette, Apr 19, 1913.

[1] “First Phase of the DCC Set to Open This Fall,” Marianna (AR) Courier, Sep 6, 1989, p.16.

“Plans made to build Arkansas Delta Cultural Center in Helena,” Marianna (AR) Courier, Sep 14, 1989, p.11.

United States Congress Senate Committee on Environment and Public Works, Lower Mississippi Delta Development Act: joint hearing before the committees on Environment and Public Works and Small Business, United States Senate, One Hundredth Congress, second session, on S. 2246, a bill to establish the Lower Mississippi Delta Development Commission, June 28, 1988 (Washington, DC: U.S. G.P.O., 1988), 96.

Bentonia Blues Documentary

“N.C.’s musicians take songs from Juke Joints to Carnegie”

“N.C.’s musicians take songs from Juke Joints to Carnegie” 

The Associated Press – Nov 9, 1986

CHARLOTTE, N.C. — In the 1930s and 1940s, they picked and wailed in tobacco warehouses and juke joints for fellow farmers and workers or they buck-danced on their back porches for family and friends.

Now many of North Carolina's blues musicians have an international following and perform in places from Carnegie Hall to Southeast Asia. Others, however, continue to work the blue-col-lar jobs they've had for years.

"North Carolina has been intensively investigated for blues," said Glenn Hinson, a Creedmore resident who is re-searching a book on North Carolina blues musicians. "As a result, public awareness of the blues is high enough so many musicians here are able to do gigs regularly. Many of them now rep-resent not only their state, but also their region nationally and internationally as they tour and perform."

Hinson said the Piedmont blues differs from the more publicized Delta blues in its complex, delicate guitar picking style. It was influenced by rag-time and white country styles, while the Delta blues sounds rougher and sparser.

Delta blues moved up the Mississippi to Chicago and the West Coast. Its most famous practitioners included B.B. King and John Lee Hooker.

Piedmont blues moved to New York with musicians like Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee.

Terry, a blind musician who came from the Durham blues tradition in the 1930s, died last March. His partner, McGhee, now lives in California.

But many other blues musicians in black communities around North Carolina continue to perform, and some sell records worldwide.

Among them is Thomas Burt, who lives near Creedmore. Born in 1900, Burt has "watched the entire development of the music, the transition from set dances to city house parties, said Hinson.

Burt played guitar for round dances and buck-dancing, a rhythmic solo dance that was the precursor of tap dancing. As the blues developed, he played for farmers who brought their crops into eastern North Carolina tobacco markets.

In the late 1940s when rhythm and blues became more popular, Burt con-tinued to play for family and friends. But an appearance at a 1978 folk festival in Durham helped revive his popularity. He went on to perform at the National Folklife Festival at Wolf Trap in 1980 and the National Down Home Blues Festival in Atlanta in 1984.

Many women played the blues in North Carolina, but not many became well known outside their own neighbor-hoods. Hinson said an exception is Etta Baker, 73, of Morganton.

"Etta is probably one of the finest guitar players in the Piedmont style," he said. "She has an incredibly light and delicate touch, fingering very complex runs on an acoustic or electric guitar."

Baker was one of the first Piedmont blues musicians recorded during the folk revival of the 1950s. Since then, she has appeared regularly at folk festivals and has been included on other albums.

Another accomplished female blues musician with North Carolina training is Elizabeth Cotten, 94, who now lives in Syracuse, N.Y. Famous for the song Freight Train, she won a Grammy award last year for best traditional album.

Algia Mae Hinton was one blueswoman who didn't, mind playing for the rollicking house parties that produced many musicians. Hinson said Hinton, 57, still performs in her native Johnston County.

"She's also one of the area's better buck-dancers," he said. "She's still able to perform with all the facility of a teenager."

Hinton dances while she plays, sometimes playing the guitar behind her head when inspired. She was re-corded for a statewide blues album in 1978, has played at national folk festivals and last year performed at Carnegie Hall in New York. She also plays with the Black Folk Heritage Tour of the North Carolina Arts Council.

Another performer on the statewide tour is John Dee Holeman, 57, who has combined the Durham guitar blues tradition with the best of Chicago blues. "He's also a buck-dancer who literally can tell stories with his feet," said Hinson.

"His voice is powerful. It can vary from very lighthearted vocals, almost joking, to a deep, brooding meanness."

Hinson said recordings and writings by folklorists "led to a revival, not a discovery, but a bringing of these artists to a new public, to a community that ex-tended beyond their hometown."

It wouldn't have died out, it would have survived in its own way," he said. "But the music has enabled people like Algia Mae to stop doing farmwork and rely more on their artistry. That's a real change, and that's allowed the music to grow and develop in new ways."