"Take the 'A' Train"

29 June, 2000 - Happy Pride Month!

In 1938 Duke Ellington ruled the big band scene. He was very busy running not just one, but a whole collection of touring bands and ensembles. He was passing through Pittsburgh when a friend convinced him to meet an eager young musician. In Duke's dressing room after the performance, Billy Strayhorn sat down at the piano and said, "Mr. Ellington, this is how you played tonight." And he played Duke's signature at the time, 'Sophisticated Lady' in what has been described as an excellent replication of Duke's style.

Then young Billy said, "And this is how I'd do it." And he began playing Duke's song in a different key, with a slightly faster tempo, and a few variations.

Duke had just completed two performances, and he was exhausted, reclining in a chair. But Strayhorn's take on the song was so compelling, that Ellington rose from his chair and crossed the room to put his hands on the kid's shoulders. "So I could feel what he was doing to my music," he said.

Duke hired Billy on the spot. When one of Ellington's associates pointed out that he already had plenty of pianists and didn't need a composer, the Duke said, "I'll think of something."

Ellington told Strayhorn to be at his home in Harlem the following week, and wrote some subway directions on a slip of paper. In an effort to impress his new boss, Strayhorn composed a new song before arriving, using the subway directions as his inspiration. "Take the 'A' Train" became the theme song of the Duke Ellington Band. It was highly unusual for a band leader who was also an accomplished composer to let someone else create his band's theme, but Billy Strayhorn was an unusual man.

Before going to work for Ellington, Strayhorn worked as a soda jerk by day, played piano in various clubs by night, and composed music everywhere. One of his friends told a story of watching Strayhorn compose a complete song while driving a delivery of ice cream to it's destination. Among the clubs Strayhorn played at in Pittsburgh and Philadelphia were the few gay clubs in business at the time. Billy was gay, and he'd decided not to hide it or engage in the usual practice of finding a wife to keep up appearances.

For the next 30 years Strayhorn and Ellington worked closely together. They collaborated on dozens of songs. Billy wrote over 1500 new songs, including Lush Life, Something to live for, Day Dream, After all, Passion Flower, Chelsea Bridge, Lotus Blossom, and Blood Count--many of which were performed by various groups in Ellington's stable.

Despite the Duke's occasional attempts to give Strayhorn the recognition and fame he deserved, Strayhorn went out of his way to stay in Ellington's shadow. It was a defense mechanism. Strayhorn refused to live the closetted life, preferring to spend his evenings out drinking and socializing with his art house friends. He knew that the press would ignore it only so long as he kept out of the limelight.

Strayhorn died of esophogeal cancer in 1967 at the age of 51. The much older Ellington was stunned. As the years went by, biographers and journalists kept referring to Strayhorn as Ellington's protege or "muscial alter-ego." The Duke got angry about that, and in one famous interview, after explaining that he thought the description made it sound like Billy was just a puppet on Ellington's strings, he said, "Let me tell you what Billy was. He was my right arm, and my left arm, and all of the eyes in the back of my head. My brainwaves in his head, and his in mine."

In recent years Strayhorn has begun to get the recognition he deserved. Tribute albums have been recorded by many artists, including out gay jazz artists, such as Andy Bey, but also more traditional performers, like Lena Horne.

In a perfect world, Billy Strayhorn might have carved out a place in the popular consciousness as prominent as Duke Ellington's. He certainly had the talent. But in our imperfect world, Billy chose a middle path. Somewhat invisible, yet out of the closet. It took a lot of courage to be out in the late thirties. I suspect a lot more courage than I would have had, if I had been born in 1915.

So, before this Pride Month closes, please join me in raising a toast (Billy is said to have favored brandy, but use the beverage of your choice) to a man you managed to pursue his dream in a hostile world. Thanks for the music, Billy. May the afterlife be as lush as your lyrics, as joyous as your melodies, and as rich as your harmonies.

This page is copyright 2000 by Gene Breshears. Photograph is copyright 1998 by Julie Rampke. All Rights Reserved.