April 1999

Golden Age
Archive

Danny Barker Bessie Smith Django Reinhardt Louis Armstrong Buddy Bolden Milt Jackson Art Farmer Mary Lou Williams Ray McKinley Jimmy Blanton Dizzy Gillespie Bill Evans Frank Sinatra

By Bill Gottlieb

When, during World War II, Glenn Miller, who had been leading the overseas U.S. Army Air Force band, was lost over the English Channel, his position was taken over partly by Ray McKinley, the band’s drummer and sometimes vocalist. Before the war, Glenn had a phenomenally popular orchestra; so, when hostilities ended, some Millerites, using mostly old Miller arrangements, formed a new "Glenn Miller Orchestra". I, myself, was released from the Army in time to cover the Miller Orchestra when it opened under Ray’s leadership (at the Hotel Pennsylvania in New York City). In addition to my note pad (for interviewing McKinley), I had my cumbersome but trusty Speed Graphic camera. My goal, when taking pictures of musicians, was to capture--or at least try to capture--the subject’s personality. But it was my first encounter with Ray, and I found him cold and uncommunicative. I couldn’t figure out any of his special qualities, let alone capture them visually.

However, he was working his drums in front of a totally black backdrop. Because of it, I knew that, if I could keep the camera steady, by perhaps wedging it on a table, I could make a double exposure on one negative. Abandoning my hopes of capturing his personality, I decided on a gimmick: making a double exposure, with Ray in two different positions, to suggest motion.

To my extreme delight, the photo made the cover of the April 22, 1946, Down Beat! When the magazine was published, Ray was still playing at the Pennsylvania, so I rushed over, very proudly, expecting him to tell me, a young, eager journalist, how great I was to have landed this coup.

He didn’t say a thing. Barely acknowledged me. I was crestfallen.

It wasn’t until nearly a half century later that I next saw Ray McKinley. It was at a jazz event in the dining room of a large, Florida hotel. By chance, we were both seated at the same table. I couldn’t resist asking him for his reactions to that double exposure. "What double exposure?" he asked. Wow. Cut down, again.

I happened to have, in my bedroom at the hotel, a copy of my book, The Golden Age of Jazz, which included the photo. I brought it to the table and showed it to Ray. "Did you take this picture?" he asked, incredulously. I assured him I did. "Why, I’ve seen it hundreds of times." Then, after a slight pause and with great emphasis, "God bless you!"

It took 48 years; but I finally got a rise out of Ray McKinley.