REMEMBERING THE BLUES’ BLEAK, EARLY BEGINNINGS

Whether the central figure in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” resembles the real Ma Rainey (1886-1939) is almost irrelevant. What matters about August Wilson’s riveting drama is the extent to which it becomes a metaphor for black life, and specifically the world of Afro-American blues.

The music business 60 years ago functioned in precisely the manner depicted here. Men like Levee, the trumpeter, even famous men like Fats Waller, did indeed sell their songs outright for a pittance. Singers like Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith, both of whom began recording the blues in 1923, were all but unknown to white America and had no control over their own destinies; they were totally indentured to white businessmen.

Social contact was zero: typically, Rainey (brilliantly played by Ann Weldon) remarks that during all the years her manager had handled her, she had been in his home only once, and then to entertain some of his friends.

Many jazzmen of the 1920s were the sons of former slaves. Only the pianist in “Ma Rainey” is able to read, and for this the others resent him. They had acquired so little education, and led such squalid lives, that their only hope seemed to lie in catering to the white man. The only black power, in fact, was the black man’s power to generate income for the whites, whether by picking the cotton or singing the blues. As the recording session ends, the musicians cannot accept a check, because a black man may have to run all over town to find someone who will cash his $25.

“Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” is a jarring reminder of frustrations overwhelming enough to drive a black man over the edge into insanity and murder, during a time when whites were lynching blacks at the rate of one every week or so. It reminds us too how fortunate we are that a Louis Armstrong or a Billie Holiday managed to rise above conditions not unlike those under which these musicians lived.

If a Ma Rainey were part of today’s music world, she could have her own publishing company, her own lawyers and management office, her retinue of employees, and power over every aspect of her career. Sadly, there are too few Americans of any race who relate to the music of those days, even though both Ann Weldon and Theresa Merritt, who sings during the pre-show and intermission, offer compelling evidence that the classic blues is still among us if you care to seek it out.