The use of dialect in African-American spirituals, popular songs, and folk songs.

The presence of vocal works that use dialect in African-American culture has been a controversial and difficult area of inquiry for those investigating the phenomenon. Dialect songs were first heard in the minstrel shows that toured the United States and Europe before the Civil War (Mahar 1999). They continued to be performed after the war as well, although not as frequently by professional troupes. Textually, many minstrel songs presented derogatory caricatures of African-American and slave culture known from depictions of southern plantations. By the 1870s, African-American dialect was still heard, most often in minstrelsy, although probably in some sacred repertory as well. While spirituals and jubilees sung in churches may have used dialect, existing evidence suggests that touring college groups, such as the Fisk Jubilee Singers and the Hampton Students, avoided the use of dialect when they performed spirituals as part of their programs. The Fisk Singers' book The Story of the Jubilee Singers (Marsh 1880) and their later recordings (after 1909) offer their repertory in standard English. Ditson's (1887) publication Jubilee and Plantation Songs likewise eschews dialect. Undoubtedly, the use of standard English in these publications and in public performances reflected a desire to demonstrate that African Americans were educated and could speak and sing in standard English.

Toward the end of the 1880s, a number of African-American vocal quartets began to appear in various venues, including vaudeville, country fairs, and variety shows. One of the most famous was the Standard Quartet, which toured with the South before the War company. The group made a number of cylinders in the early 1890s, of which one, "Keep Movin'," also sung in standard English, has survived (Brooks 2004, 96-97). However, the popularity of the antebellum spirituals and jubilees influenced a number of black minstrels to write and perform sacred dialect songs in their shows. James Bland's "Oh, Dem Golden Slippers" (1879) and Sam Lucas's "Put On My Long White Robe" (1879) are two examples of this sacred genre that migrated from the church and concert stage to the minstrel show. Lucas's song has no derogatory sense. Rather, the dialect conveys an African-American perspective (similar to that heard in spirituals) on the voyage that follows death.

   De gospel Trumpet am sounding loud,
   Put on my long white robe.
   See all de children a slipping proud,
   All up an' down de road,
   When dey get near de pearly gate,
   Put on my long white robe,
   You can go inside if you ain't too late,
   And den how happy you'll feel.

   Chorus
   Oh! wait 'till I put on my long white robe,
   My starry crown and my golden shoes,
   I pass through the gates of de golden city
   Den I carry de news.

During the 1890s, the most controversial dialect lyrics, which harkened back to the early days of minstrelsy, were set to ragtime melodies; this new genre is usually identified as the "coon" song. It was sung in a multiplicity of venues--in the minstrel show, in vaudeville, and on Broadway. It is generally stated that Ernest Hogan's "All Coons Look Alike to Me" was the first coon song (Woll 1989, 2), but in truth, a number of coon songs predate his piece. (1) His song, however, together with the "Bully Song," whose authorship was claimed by no fewer than five composers, introduced the new genre to Broadway, where mainstream theatergoers readily accepted and approved their catchy tunes, sung by May Irwin. The coon song's popularity led many African-American lyricists and composers to write vernacular songs that were sung by both black and white performers. While most of these songs had slangy lyrics in which final sounds were dropped ("hangin'," for example) and contractions were used ("ne'er"), they did not use dialect ("dere" and "dem"). A small group, however, did. Bert Williams and George Walker, for example, wrote several that were heard in their musicals between 1897 and 1902, as did Irving Jones, Will Marion Cook, and Bob Cole.

Early in his career, Cole penned "4-11-44: A Coon Ditty" (1897), which he performed in the Black Patti Troubadour musical At Jolly Cooney Island. In the first verse, "playing the numbers" provides the dark humor.

   A Darkey fast asleep dream't he heard de angels say:
   "Play four-eleven-forty-four";
   He woke up from his slumbers fast, about the break of day,
   To play four-eleven-forty-four,
   His wife had some money saved, but he stole ev'ry cent,
   And right off to the policy shop dis cunning darkey went,
   Next day de landlord "put him out," he couldn't pay his rent,
   'Cause he played four-eleven-forty-four.

In the final verse, Cole speculates on a black president:

   If we had a coon President, de town clocks all would stop,
   Play four-eleven-forty-four;
   He'd turn de white-house into a great big Policy shop,
   Play four-eleven-forty-four;
   When he took his vacation, he'd gather up all his traps,
   Instead of going to Buzzard's Bay, he'd go to town not on de
      map,
   And instead of shooting ducks, he'd be all time shooting
      craps,
   Play four-eleven-forty-four.

Because African-American dialect was associated in the public mind primarily with minstelsy and coon songs, many middle- and upper-class blacks at the turn of the twentieth century regarded it as a negative reflection of the race. Yet dialect in general was accepted in literature and poetry. Mark Twain (1888, ii) prefaced his novel The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn with the following "Explanatory": "In this book a number of dialects are used, to wit: the Missouri negro dialect; the extremist form of the backwoods South-Western dialect; the ordinary 'Pike-County' dialect; and four modified varieties of this list." Several poets, including James Whitcomb Riley, Eugene Field, and Paul Laurence Dunbar, wrote in dialect as well. Some African Americans accepted Dunbar's dialect poetry, but others felt it to be no better than the lyrics of the coon songs. Some of their discomfort with his dialect poetry may have come from their familiarity with his lyrics for the songs that were heard in the one-act musical Clorindy, or the Origin of the Cakewalk that Dunbar and Will Marion Cook (1869-1944) wrote in the mid-1890s, which was performed on Broadway in the summer of 1898. Dunbar's lyrics for the verse attempt to downplay the image problems of a Saturday evening party attended by working-class blacks--"Eber one huntin' fun kno Darktown's de place. / Kase we's coons an' buffoons, dat ain't no disgrace." In the chorus, he gives a vivid description of the kind of event one can expect to find there.

   An' dere'll be wahm coons a prancin',
   Swell coons a dancin',
   Tough coons who'll want to fight,
   So bring long yo' blazahs,
   Fetch out yo' razahs,
   Darktown is out tonight. (Cook and Dunbar 1898)

Thus, at the end of the nineteenth century, for many African Americans, dialect was associated primarily with the lower classes and their foibles. For many, it was undoubtedly a reminder of antebellum life or of the poverty some of them had endured--something to be avoided or, even better, forgotten.

Dialect Sacred Songs

During the first two decades of the twentieth century, Harry Burleigh began to arrange spiritual melodies for solo voice to be sung at concerts. Burleigh (1917, [2]) addresses the dialect issue in the brief preface that introduces his arrangements.

   It is a serious misconception of their meaning and value to treat
   [spirituals] as "minstrel" songs, or to try to make them funny by
   a too literal attempt to imitate the manner of the Negro in singing
   them, by swaying the body, clapping the hands, or striving to make
   the peculiar inflections of voice that are natural with the colored
   people. Their worth is weakened unless they are done impressively,
   for through all these songs there breathes a hope, a faith in the
   ultimate justice and brotherhood of man.

Burleigh's seriousness of purpose had been reinforced by Du Bois, who prefaces each chapter in The Souls of Black Folk ([1906] 1989) with a quote from a spiritual.

Despite several continuing attempts to make black dialect acceptable, there was evidently still some resistance to the use of dialect in spirituals as late as the 1920s. To be sure, dialect was still heard in black musicals such as Shuffle Along (1921) and Keep Shufflin' (1928), which had scripts by the well-known black comedians Flournoy Miller and Aubrey Lyles. In response to those concerns, in the mid-1920s, James Weldon Johnson attempted once again to mitigate the heavy burden thrust on black dialect by minstrelsy, the coon song, and musical theater of the Harlem Renaissance. In his extensive prefaces to The Book of American Negro Spirituals (1925) and its companion volume, The Second Book of Negro Spirituals (1926), which contain arrangements by his brother, J. Rosamond Johnson, Weldon Johnson defends the use of dialect in spirituals and, by extension, in other black art music. He reasons that the use of dialect represents the history of the race: "[I]t was a matter of chance that practically all of this music was not completely lost. The Negro has been doubly lucky, because his music was preserved by others when he himself was unable to do the work." Johnson then praises Joel Chandler Harris for collecting black folk tales in his Uncle Remus stories and documenting specifically where and from whom he heard them, passing up the opportunity to take credit for them as his own (Johnson 1926, 15-16).

In his discussion of the music, Johnson (1925, 37) posits that four-part standard (diatonic) arrangements of spirituals do not reflect the original way these pieces were performed. Instead, he claims that originally they were sung using "bizarre Negro harmonies," with close-harmony chromatic chords similar to those used by barbershop quartets. He comments specifically on the spirituals to follow in his collection: "No changes have been made in the form of songs. The only development has been in harmonizations, and these harmonizations have been kept true in character" (50). Notwithstanding his personal recollections, Johnson's comments concerning barbershop harmonizations of spirituals are not supported by the few early recordings that survive, nor in the four-part transcriptions I have seen that precede Burleigh's and J. Rosamond Johnson's arrangements. (2)

I believe that Johnson was attempting to lay the groundwork to justify the use of chromatic chords for music that was originally heard in straightforward diatonic progressions. While most of these new arrangements do not generally stray too far from the originals, they often, on a local level, provide extra color through the use of diminished chords, applied dominants, and other harmonic devices associated with late Romantic music. This style of writing can be traced to the musical instruction that any young musician would have received as part of his conservatory training during the late nineteenth century--be it Burleigh at the National Conservatory, J. Rosamond Johnson at the New England Conservatory, or R. Nathaniel Dett at Oberlin.

James Weldon Johnson (1925, 48) notes that spirituals are sung by many of the public; he commends Burleigh, noting that Burleigh "was the pioneer in making arrangements for the Spirituals that widened their appeal and extended their use to singers and the general musical public." Johnson's defense of an updated harmonization was undoubtedly an attempt to preempt critics who might question the validity of his brother's and others' arranging approaches. He surely was aware of the generally negative criticism of Amerindian music arrangements by MacDowell, Cadman, and Farwell, among others, that were heard during the preceding two decades. These American composers considered their late Romantic harmonizations a feature of the "idealist" approach, the main purpose of which was to make this music accessible to modern audiences. Their approach raised a basic question: Is (or was) it appropriate or valid for a composer or arranger to take a simple diatonic or pentatonic tune from an earlier musical period and harmonize it in a modern style with chromatic and altered chords? The question has not been fully resolved for some; it is a problem that continues to the present. (3) The nature of the harmonization is crucial, of course, to a listener's perception of the music. Especially when the tune in question is a folk-based song or a spiritual, a version that is too ornate or sophisticated may sound artificial or unconvincing to the listener. Yet it should be remembered that for American composers of art music, reharmonization was a logical continuation of the late nineteenth-century music they had studied. Brahms and Dvorak made no attempt in their arrangements of folk tunes to hew to the original harmonies. Indeed, I believe their arrangements were and are still popular because they successfully bridged the gap between the original folk tune and the musical style of their time. That success was similarly accorded to many of the songs and instrumental works by American composers that appeared after the turn of the century, because their works appear on many concert programs through the 1920s. One must also note the continuing use of folk tunes in modern settings in the 1930s in the works of Copland, Harris, Thomson, Still, and Dawson. Undoubtedly, Burleigh and the Johnson brothers were thinking in those terms when they began to arrange spirituals.

For example, "Go Down, Moses" in the Fisk Jubilee Singers' version (Marsh 1880), as well as Ditson's ([1887] 1915) collection, begins with a unison melody that is answered by a simple tonic-dominant four-part harmony. At measure 9, the voices return to a unison that continues until the final phrase, "Let my people go" (see Ex. 1).

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In Rosamond Johnson's arrangement, given in Example 2, a two-measure introduction proclaims the majesty of the lyrics. The style of the accompaniment, with its dynamic extremes (ppp to ff), tempo changes, held notes, rolled and arpeggiated chords, rhythmically pointed melody, and altered harmonies--a VI chord at "Tell ole" (m. 7) and a diminished B chord and nonfunctional E-[flat.sup.7]--suggests an art song setting that would be heard in a concert-hall venue.

Most of the spirituals in the Johnson brothers' two volumes (Johnson 1925, 1926) are dedicated to their friends. It is tempting to speculate that Rosamond tailored his arrangements to his perception of the taste of his dedicatees. "O, Rocks Don't Fall on Me" (Johnson 1925, 164), for example, is dedicated to Fritz Kreisler. It begins with an introduction that is surprising both for its dramatic emphasis and for its harmonically striking progression (see Ex. 3). The chromatic descending line and the circle-of-fifths motion of the bass--f#, b, e, a, d--set the stage for the rest of the song, which harmonizes the simple diatonic tune inventively, with substitute chords in many places.

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One spiritual in each Johnson volume is dedicated to Burleigh, who, as Jean Snyder (1992, 396) has noted, did not like Johnson's arrangements. The arrangement of "Done Foun' My Lost Sheep" (Johnson 1925, 167) differs significantly from "O, Rocks," displaying a fundamental diatonicism that is lightly colored with nonharmonic passing tones over a tonic pedal (see Ex. 4). The gentle chromatic rising line in the accompaniment at measures 15-16 adds interest to an otherwise static vocal line.

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In the second volume, the spiritual dedicated to Burleigh is "Po' Mourner's Got a Home at Las'" (Johnson 1926, 78). While the arrangement is somewhat more forceful, Johnson stays close to the diatonic basis of the spiritual; the undulating harmonies for "mourner" make use of the augmented sixth chord in measure 8 (spelled as an a[flat] instead of a g# in the score) to add interest to a repeated melody (see Ex. 5).

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Given his objections to Johnson's arrangements, it is somewhat surprising that Burleigh's earlier settings of spirituals also use sophisticated harmonic progressions and pianistic accompaniments. A comparison of "He's Jus' de Same To-day" by Burleigh (and Johnson (1926, 80) demonstrates their separate approaches (see Exx. 6 and 7). Burleigh's version begins with an unexpected half-diminished chord that resolves to a tonic, second inversion, which leads into the expected cadence. His arrangement "swings," emphasizing the syncopation long associated with ragtime. In addition, he reharmonizes the melodic added sixth of the tonic chord (a g in the score) in measures 3, 4, 5, 8, and 9 with a subdominant chord over the dominant root (see Ex. 6). For the second part of the verse (mm. 12-16), Burleigh introduces a descending chromatic line in the bass--a, a[flat], g, g[flat]--that harmonizes a classical chord progression, [F.sup.7], B-[flat.sup.7], E half-diminished, German augmented six, to the dominant. Following a stepwise diatonic descent from f to b[flat], Burleigh maintains a tonal ambivalence by strongly emphasizing the tonic in the bass while contradicting it in many of the treble chords. This harmonic ambivalence continues through the chorus (mm. 20-27), where Burleigh reharmonizes the melody over a tonic pedal until the final two measures. Although the bass moves traditionally from e[flat] to f to b[flat], the dominant root is heard under a C [minor.sup.7] chord, which clouds the cadential motion.

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Johnson's version sounds like a different spiritual. For most of the verse, the meter is [??] (really [??]) rather than [??], which allows Johnson to augment the melody and eliminate the syncopations. Rather than sounding like a joyous spiritual, "He's Jus' de Same Today" is now heard as a solemn spiritual. Harmonically, Johnson limits himself, with one exception in measure 17, to two chords: tonic and subdominant. The dominant is heard for the first time only in the chorus. The accompaniment features rolled chords on almost every beat, adding to the grandeur of Johnson's conception (see Ex. 7).

Although Will Marion Cook apparently arranged a number of spirituals, he published only one. His highly chromatic setting of "Troubled in Mind" (Cook and Cook 1929) disguises the inherent nature of the pentatonic melody through the use of passing tones, nonharmonic tones, and unresolved dissonances. Of special interest is Cook's reharmonization of the same melodic line on the text "Troubled in Mind." In the first statement of the phrase, Cook's bass descends from d to g, mostly through half-step motion, while the soprano descends from the dominant G through the lower tetrachord of C minor to the tonic note. The middle voices join with the two outer voices to add dissonant passing tones to the passage (see Ex. 8a). The chord progression in this phrase is harmonically rich, proceeding from a [II.sup.7] (with a nonchord tone, g, in the soprano) to an altered [sharp.sup.5] E-flat chord that functions as an auxiliary dominant of A-flat major. Cook, however, goes deceptively to F major, the submediant of A-flat and the major IV chord of C minor. It is followed by a [VI.sup.7], which leads through the augmented-sixth chord to a dominant seventh chord. The listener's expectation at this point is that Cook will cadence on the tonic chord. However, while the bass sounds a c, Cook prolongs the resolution by using a [VII.sup.7] over the tonic root for two of the measure's three beats.

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The second statement treats the descending melody quite differently (see Ex. 8b). Instead of the II chord heard earlier, the listener hears a [VI.sup.7], where the g was an nonresolving upper neighbor in the first phrase, now it is a chord tone. Cook follows with a traditional progression--[VII.sup.7], I, VI--followed by a disguised circle of fifths--[C.sup.7], [F.sup.7], B-[flat.sup.7]--that leads the listener to expect an E-[flat.sup.7] chord. Cook, however, breaks the sequence by dropping down a minor third to a [G.sup.7] dominant chord, which again signals the cadence. This time, Cook extends it through the use of an incomplete [IV.sup.7], flat-II progression that resolves to a major tonic chord.

The final version, which features a slightly modified melody, is by far the most harmonically complex of the three statements (see Ex. 8c). It features a number of deceptive progressions that make it an appropriately somber conclusion to the spiritual. Cook once again reinterprets the g that starts the phrase. Now it is part of an E-[flat.sup.7] chord, implying a motion to the submediant, A-flat major. But it is followed by a dominant ninth chord that resolves correctly to the tonic. While the third of the tonic (e) is suspended, Cook moves to an augmented sixth (d[flat], f, b[natural]) chord, implying a tonic cadence. However, an A-flat chord (the VI) follows; it is a deceptive move that aborts the cadence, but at the same time, it resolves the E-[flat.sup.7] chord heard at the beginning of the phrase. A resolution of sorts follows; in the upper part, a C minor chord is heard, although the bass note, f, makes it a bit cloudy. In fact, the f belongs to the following chord, a B-[flat.sup.7], that seems to indicate a move to E-flat major. That move is aborted as well as Cook returns to the circle of fifths--[D.sup.7], [G.sup.7], and so on--but again delays the resolution by substituting an A-[flat.sup.7] chord for the tonic at the cadence. Just before the final C minor chord, Cook "resolves" his A-flat chord by moving to a flat II (D-flat major) chord over the c pedal. This spiritual demonstrates Cook's study of late Romantic harmony. His arrangement, however, is an example of the extreme chromatic harmonization of a simple descending diatonic melody that has been criticized as being inappropriate.

The differences between the arrangements discussed above highlight the alternative approaches to bringing spirituals to a larger audience. Burleigh's arrangement straddles the fence; its accompaniment looks toward the American art song as it was flourishing during the first two decades of the twentieth century; yet, through its use of ragged rhythms and the added sixth, it is popular in its approach. It exudes a joyous feeling. Johnson's, on the other hand, is simpler harmonically and much more in the style of a sacred song. Cook's setting looks back to the late Romantic art song; his harmonic progressions are reminiscent of Hugo Wolf's lieder. Despite the differences in approach, the goal was the same: the composers intended their spirituals to be heard in the concert hall.

Dialect Songs in the Popular Style

During the first decade of the twentieth century, a number of black composers worked in both the popular and the concert idioms. Al Johns, for example, wrote coon-song ditties for vaudeville but also penned a number of salon piano pieces, including "Toba, an Egyptian Idyl" and "Dance Rubenesque." In addition to writing songs for Cole's and Johnson's musicals and for the Black Patti Troubadours shows, James Reese Europe wrote "Congratulations Valse" and several other art pieces. Cook and the Johnson brothers contributed to both genres as well. Burleigh does not appear to have written songs for vaudeville or shows, but he wrote songs for performance in a concert setting. In 1910, he published Two Plantation Songs (Burleigh and Garrison 1910). The melody of the first, 'I'll be Dar to Meet Yo'," is syncopated, reminiscent of the kind one hears in the ragtime song. The left-hand accompaniment imitates a banjo; it is quite static, with only three chords in the first ten measures. Here again, Burleigh appears to be incorporating a popular idiom that will attract a large audience (see Ex. 9).

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Rosamond Johnson also composed several dialect songs; one of his earliest is "L'il Gal" (Johnson and Dunbar 1903), to a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar. With just a hint of ragtime, this song has a breezy lilt that characterizes a tender love song. Johnson's harmonization of the melody is replete with triads in the right-hand accompaniment, while the tonic c provides a pedal point for the opening measures. This results in a number of gentle passing-note dissonances in measures 4 and 6, as well as a hint of modality from the B-flat chord in measure 7, that lend harmonic interest to the basic progression (see Ex. 10). Many of his songs from this period, such "My Missisippi Belle" and "Louisiana Lize" feature chords of the added sixth. Johnson's technique in this and the other songs certainly demonstrates his training with Charles Dennee (1863-1946), a composer of operettas and salon music; they are also similar to some songs by George Whitefield Chadwick.

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Cook's "Wid de Moon, Moon, Moon," written four years after "L'il Gal," is, like Johnson's song, also subtitled "Negro Love Song" and is written in the art-song style that Cook used for "Red, Red Rose," a non-dialect song (Cook and Moore 1907). With the melody in the bass, there is not a strong sense of key in the opening measures of "Wid de Moon, Moon, Moon." The listener is probably generally aware of the tonality, but the apparent lack of a standard chord progression and the absence of roots in the melody give the feeling of nascent impressionism. In the introduction, for example, Cook starts with a dissonant c# over a d/f#; the c# resolves to a b, forming a B minor chord. A D major triad follows, although at this point in the piece, there is no sense that d is the tonic. Before it has time to settle in, Cook moves his afterbeat dyad to a/c#, forming with the f# of the melody an F-sharp minor chord, which is pro longed through measure 2. The chord progression in the third and fourth measures is straightforward--an [E.sup.7] chord that resolves to an A chord, implying a resolution to the tonic. Although a tonic triad appears in the next measure, the bass immediately ascends from a to b. The remainder of the verse follows a similar path. Not until the beginning of the chorus does an unequivocal root-position D major chord appear (see Ex. 11).

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Dialect Folk Songs

The last songs to be discussed here are Burleigh's Negro Folk Songs and his and Johnson's Jubilees. The first of Burleigh's four folk songs is "Oh! Rock Me, Julie," which was included in Henry Edward Krehbiel's ([1914] 1921) Afro-American Folksongs: A Study in Racial and National Music. Krehbiel notes that the words and melody, which, he states, is "based on the whole-tone scale," were received from George W. Cable (52). Burleigh's arrangement emphasizes the whole-tone descent from g# to d in the first phrase, c# to g in the second, and f# to c in the last (see Ex. 12). Since the three phrases of the text share the same melody (transposed), one might guess that Burleigh would have harmonized them similarly. Instead, at the word "Oh!" which functions as a refrain, he harmonizes the f# in the first phrase with a B minor chord (a minor V chord in E minor). However, in the second and third phrases, the equivalent pitches, b and e, are harmonized modally, with a flat-seven chord (G major in phrase two and C major in phrase three). Because the melody is heard sequentially a fifth lower at each repetition, Burleigh at the conclusion of the third phrase finds himself in a compositional bind; the third phrase has cadenced on a D minor chord, the minor-flat-seven chord in E minor. Using the melody of the chorus in the bass (m. 10), he extends the D minor harmony to reinterpret it as a subdominant chord in A minor. On the last beat of measure 11, it converts to a [II.sup.6.sub.5] chord, which resolves to an A major chord. It is not a very convincing harmonization.

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The melody can be viewed in a more traditional way. There are several alternative analytic solutions. As in Burleigh's 1914 setting, the first phrase can start in E major but at the chorus switch to the parallel minor mode. The last beat of measure 3 can be harmonized with a minor dominant chord. Alternatively, the chorus could begin on an A major chord, with a D major chord on the last beat of measure 2, resolving to an E major chord. The second and third phrases could follow the same harmonization transposed a fifth lower. In either case, a final cadence that returns to the opening key is needed.

In 1921, Burleigh wrote a new arrangement of "Oh! Rock Me, Julie" that emphasizes even more the whole-tone melody (see Ex. 13). This later arrangement would make Puccini proud. (4) A three-measure introduction uses whole-tone chords (see m. 2) that do not resolve to an unequivocal tonic. The singer's first note, e, is harmonized unexpectedly with an E dominant-seventh chord, which is followed by an F-sharp major chord in second inversion. This appears to signify that a (major or minor) is the tonic. The next two chords, however, are part of a D minor progression, which continues into measure 6. Just at the point when the music seems to be settling into a key, Burleigh uses a C augmented chord for the penultimate pitch of the first phrase (m. 6, beat 4). The A minor chord that follows, disguised by passing tones, give no sense of resolution. The setting continues to be puzzling, particularly at the conclusion of the third phrase, when the "tonic" g (m. 13) is harmonized by a C minor first-inversion chord. In the previous two phrases, the final pitch was treated as a tonic; here, however, Burleigh treats it as the fifth of the chord, which allows him to make the C minor chord function as a borrowed IV chord of G major (m. 14). The three-measure coda that concludes this song recapitulates the introduction (m. 1 and the first beat of m. 2), and ends with a b suspended in a C major chord. A strange ending, to say the least!

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Although most of their songs are strophic, Burleigh and Johnson also composed a few through-composed bravura pieces. A 1917 song by Burleigh, "Promis' Lan'," subtitled "A Hallelujah Song," (Burleigh and Corey 1917) shows a sophisticated harmonic progression, with typical late-Romantic chromatic substitutions, including the mixing of modes, use of the minor dominant (e.g., in m. 7), tonic ambivalence (mm. 12-14), tempo changes, and an accompaniment that freely mixes popular and serious styles (see Ex. 14). The song begins in B minor but quickly through an F minor chord (the minor V of B-flat minor) moves to D-flat major. At the "Adagio," the music modulates to G-flat major, then returns to B-flat minor, before a concluding section once again in D-flat major. In the course of the song, Burleigh uses many borrowed chords, which give the piece a modal tinge associated with the spiritual, although, as far as I can tell, there are no quotes from preexistent pieces.

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In Rolling Along in Song: A Chronological Survey of American Negro Music, Rosamond Johnson (1937) published arrangements of ring shouts, spirituals, work songs, plantation ballads, chain-gang, jail-house, and minstrel songs, street cries, and blues. Among his extended works in that volume are several miscellaneous jubilees and a dramatic piece, "De Chain Gang," which quotes fragments from various prison work songs.

Conclusion

Dialect songs for the concert stage came into vogue around 1910. In addition to the composers discussed here, the list of American composers who wrote such songs includes Lily Strickland (1884-1958), David W. Guion (1892-1981), Carrie Jacobs-Bond (1862-1946), Mary M. Howard, Robert MacGimsey (1898-1979), Carl Hahn, William Dichmont (1882-1943), Ethelbert Nevin (1862-1901), and Sidney Homer (1864-1953). These songs were performed frequently by many of the leading singers of the day, including Louise Homer, Ernestine Schumann-Heink, and Carmela Ponselle (Metropolitan Opera star Rosa Ponselle's older sister), as well as Paul Robeson, Roland Hayes, and Sidney Woodward.

As the popularity of the coon song dissipated, the use of dialect once again became less objectionable in the new context of spirituals and freely composed songs that could be sung in venues that attracted a higher class of audience and elevated the status of African Americans as composers of serious art music. Burleigh and J. Rosamond Johnson were at the forefront of black composers who followed this path. Burleigh was one of the first composers to see the possibilities in arranging traditional black music for concert use. Undoubtedly, his connection with Ricordi helped get his early pieces before the general public. The Johnsons' three volumes of arrangements (J. W. Johnson 1925, 1926; J. R. Johnson 1937) were published in hard cover editions, clearly meant for the library shelf of upper-middle-class Americans. Along with W. C. Handy's (1926) and John W. Work's (1940) editions, these arrangements helped to define an important African-American contribution to America's multicultural history.

"Go Down Moses," "O, Rock Don't Fall on Me," "He's Jus de Same Today," "O' Mourner's Got a Home at Las," and "Done Foun' My Los' Sheep," from The Books of American Negro Spirituals by James Weldon Johnson and J. Rosamond Johnson, copyright 1925, 1926 by The Viking Press, Inc., renewed 1953 by Lawrence Brown, 1953 [c] 1954 by Grace Nail Johnson and J. Rosamond Johnson. Used by permission of Viking Penguin, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

REFERENCES

Allen, Paul. 1883. New coons in town. Chicago: S. Brainard's Sons.

Brooks, Tim. 2004. Lost sounds: Blacks and the birth of the recording industry, 1890-1919. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

Burleigh, Harry T. 1919. Hes jus de same to-day. New York: G. Rircordi.

Burleigh, Harry T., and N. J. Corey. 1917. Promis' lan' (A hallelujah song). New York: G. Ricordi.

Burleigh, Harry T., and Beverly Garrison. 1910. I'll be dar to meet yo'. In Two plantation songs. New York: William Maxwell Music.

Cole, Bob. 1892. Parthenia married a coon. Chicago: S. Brainard's Sons.

--. 1897. 4-11'44. Milwaukee: Joseph Flanner.

Cook, Mercer, and Will Marion Cook. 1929. Troubled in mind. New York: G. Schirmer.

DuBois, W.E B. [1903] 1989. The souls of black folk. New York: Bantam.

Graziano, John. 1986. Musical dialects in Down in the valley. In A new Orpheus: Essays on Kurt Weill, edited by Kim H. Kowalke, 297-319. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press.

Handy, W. C., ed. 1926. Blues, an anthology. New York: Albert and Charles Boni.

Johnson, J. Rosamond, ed. and arr. 1937. Rolling along in song: A chronological survey of American Negro music. New York: Viking Press.

Johnson, James Weldon, ed. 1925. The book of American Negro spirituals. New York: Viking Press.

--. 1926. The second book of Negro spirituals. New York: Viking Press.

Jubilee and plantation songs. 1887. Boston: Oliver Ditson.

Krehbiel, Henry Edward. [1914] 1971. Afro-American folksongs: A study in racial and national music. New York: F. Unger.

Lucas, Sam. 1879. Put on my long white robe. In Sam Lucas' 3 great songs. Boston: White, Smith.

Mahar, William J. 1999. Behind the burnt cork mask: Early blackface minstrelsy and antebellum American popular culture. Urbana: University of Illinois Press.

Marsh, J. B. T. 1880. The story of the Jubilee Singers; with their songs, rev. ed. Boston: Houghton, Osgood.

Snyder, Jean E. 1992. Harry T. Burleigh and the creative expression of bi-musicality: A study of an African-American composer and the American art song. Ph.D dissertation, University of Pittsburgh.

Spaeth, Sigmund. 1948. A history of popular music in America. New York: Random House.

Twain, Mark. 1888. The adventures of Huckleberry Finn. New York: C. L. Webster.

Woll, Allen L. 1989. Black musical theatre: From Coontown to Dreamgirls. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press.

(1.) Sigmund Spaeth (1948, 238) credits Paul Allen's "New Coon in Town" (1883) as one of the first "coon" songs. Bob Cole (1868-1911) wrote "Parthenia Married a Coon" in 1892 and performed it in Sam T. Jack's Creole Bulesque Show, which toured the country from 1891 through 1895. One can also find prototype coon songs in the Harrigan and Hart musical plays of the 1880s.

(2.) The Standard Quartet's 1894 cylinder recording arrangement of "Keep Movin'" is limited to three chords--tonic, dominant, and submediant. I hear no attempt on their part to use chromatic harmonies or close chordal layouts. Tim Brooks (2004, 97) comments, "The a capella performance is infused with jubilee fervor. The chorus is call-and-response.... Nothing like this was heard in recordings by white quartets of the 1890s, most of which employed the carefully modulated, deliberate style familiar today in barbershop quartet sings." A similarly sung arrangement is heard in James Reese Europe's Serenaders 1917 version of "Little David, Play on Your Harp," which uses a standard harmonization. Occasionally, on both of these recordings, one hears some sliding between notes; perhaps Johnson was referring to this technique when he used the term bizarre.

(3.) American composers were certainly not the first to address this issue, which has vexed many musicians over the last two hundred years. How does one assert Schumann's harmonizations of Bach's solo works or Grieg's reharmonization of Mozart? I discuss the problem as it relates to Kurt Weill in "Musical Dialects in Down in the Valley" (Graziano 1986, 315).

JOHN GRAZIANO is professor of music at City College and the Graduate Center, City University of New York. He is co-director of Music in Gotham, a National Endowment for the Humanities "We the People" project. His recent article on Sissieretta Jones in the Journal of the American Musicological Society received the Irving Lowens Prize for the best article on American music in 2000.