Soul Night

They were all there--Cab Calloway, Earl ("Fatha") Hines, Benny Goodman, Dizzy Gillespie, J. J. Johnson, Gerry Mulligan and scores of others. It was not a Bourbon Street reunion of the jazz giants, nor were they stompin' at the Savoy. The man tinkling out Happy Birthday on the piano--with authority--was none other than a fellow named Dick Nixon, President of the U.S. "I've never seen the place like this," exclaimed a venerable White House butler as he distributed glasses of champagne from a silver tray. "It sure has lots of soul tonight."

What else could be expected when the President throws a party in the White House for one of the greatest figures of American jazz, Edward Kennedy ("Duke") Ellington? Presenting Ellington with the Medal of Freedom on his 70th birthday--the first such award in the new Administration--Nixon said: "In the royalty of American music, no man swings more or stands higher than the Duke." The Duke responded by bussing the startled President twice on each cheek.

Agnew's Style. It was not Ellington's first contact with the White House. His father was a part-time butler in Harding's day, and in the past the Duke himself has been honored with membership on the National Arts Council. But it was by far his most pleasant experience with a President. Besides Nixon's Happy Birthday, played on the eagle-legged piano of the East Room stage, Vice President Spiro T. Agnew sat down to play two of Ellington's own compositions, Sophisticated Lady and In a Sentimental Mood, in a surprisingly light, sophisticated style.

Black was the color of the evening. Never before had a White House dinner been so dominated by Negroes, and never before had a U.S. artist of the masses been so honored. "I voted against Nixon three times since 1960," said one black musician from California, "but after tonight, he could run for Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan and I'd be for him."

Cynics, of course, would say that Nixon's aim was to win black support in just such a manner. The chances are that they would be wrong in this case. The idea for the party was suggested by Nixon's old New York associate Charles McWhorter, a jazz buff, and Nixon, no jazz fan but the first piano-playing President since Harry Truman, enthusiastically endorsed it. Ellington did not participate in anyone's campaign and, in fact, had not even met Nixon until the day of the party. The traditional political types were not invited, and the guest list was limited almost entirely to the Duke's old friends. Most of them are musicians who could not carry a precinct.

They could, however, carry a tune, and rarely has so much talent worked for free and for fun. Mary Mayo and Joe Williams sang, and when Nixon and Agnew were not using it, the piano was rotated among Hank Jones, Dave Brubeck and Fatha Hines, who nearly sent its legs flying with a ripping rendition of Perdido. Best of all, perhaps, was the Duke's own improvisation of "something soft and gentle" on the name of Pat. Mrs. Nixon was enchanted.

So were the 180 others who turned out to honor the Duke. Though the Nixons left at midnight, the President sternly reminded the crowd that "the night is still young." No one needed a second invitation, and before long the black-tied and begowned guests, who could hardly sit still for the fast rhythm, pushed back their gilt chairs and began dancing. The floor did not empty until 2:15 a.m. Ellington had set the pace himself in one of his songs: "Praise God with the sound of the trumpet./Praise God with the psaltery and harp/And dance, dance, dance, dance, dance!"

Nixon--or his successor--may have a chance for another party in the White House when Ellington celebrates his 75th. The Duke is far from retired. He has just about finished one opera, is planning another and thinking about new ballet and orchestra pieces. "I don't know where I'm going," he said, "but you know, I'm going like crazy." There was only one complaint among the guests who helped him celebrate. Soul Singer Lou Rawls joshed the President that "the hors d'oeuvres could have at least been fricasseed chitlins on toothpicks." Still, Rawls issued an informal communique that summed up the evening. "This," he said, "is a groove." Quoth the Duke: "Lovely."

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