Black Music Sunday is a weekly series highlighting all things Black music, with over 240 stories covering performers, genres, history, and more, each featuring its own vibrant soundtrack. I hope you’ll find some familiar tunes and perhaps an introduction to something new.
Singer, dancer, musician, actor, and entertainer Sammy Davis Jr. was a jack of all the performance trades, including playing trombone, vibraphone, and drums. Considered by many to have been the world’s greatest entertainer—ever—his life story was complicated by the realities of racism in the U.S. and by a series of setbacks and tragedies.
Join me in celebrating what would have been his 99th birthday.
Biography details his beginnings:
Samuel George Davis Jr. was born on December 8, 1925, in the Harlem neighborhood of New York City, with the infant initially raised by his paternal grandmother. Davis's parents split up when he was 3 and he went to live with his father, who was working as an entertainer in a dance troupe. When his father and adopted uncle went on tour, Davis was brought along, and after learning to tap the three began performing together. They would eventually be dubbed the Will Mastin Trio.
Because of the group's itinerant lifestyle, Davis never received a formal education, though his father did occasionally hire tutors while they were on the road. During their travels in the 1930s, the young Davis not only became an accomplished dancer but also a skilled singer, multi-instrumentalist and comedian and was soon the star of the show. Davis also made his first appearance in film during this time, dancing in the 1933 short Rufus Jones for President.
In 1943, at the height of World War II, Davis’s career was interrupted when he was drafted into the Army. During his service, he directly experienced horrendous racial prejudice that his father had previously protected him from. He was constantly harassed and physically abused by white soldiers, with his fellow servicemen breaking his nose. But Davis eventually found refuge in an entertainment regiment, where he discovered that performing allowed him a certain measure of safety and a desire to earn even a hateful audience member's love.
Here’s a 7-year-old Davis stealing the show in the aforementioned “Rufus Jones for President.”
And 14 years later, doing the “Boogie Woogie” with the Will Mastin Trio in 1947:
And in November 1954—just seven years after the “Boogie Woogie” above, and just before his 29th birthday—Davis would face a major life challenge just as the Will Mastin Trio’s stars were finally rising.
Hadley Hall Meares, writing for Vanity Fair, details how he lost an eye while driving a Cadillac his father had gifted him to celebrate their first real success in Las Vegas. After a night that included both a performance and a bit of time in the casino, Davis made the drive to a Los Angeles recording studio.
[Davis] later recalled:
It was one of those magnificent mornings when you can only remember the good things…My fingers fit perfectly into the ridges around the steering wheel, and the clear desert air streaming in through the window was wrapping itself around my face like some gorgeous, swinging chick giving me a facial. I turned on the radio, it filled the car with music, and I heard my own voice singing “Hey, There.”
This magic ride was shattered when the Cadillac rammed into a woman making an ill-advised U-turn. Davis’s face slammed into a protruding horn button in the center of the driver’s wheel. (That model would soon be redesigned because of his accident.) He staggered out of the car, focused on his assistant, Charley, whose jaw was horrifically hanging slack, blood pouring out of it.
“He pointed to my face, closed his eyes and moaned,” Davis writes. “I reached up. As I ran my hand over my cheek, I felt my eye hanging there by a string. Frantically I tried to stuff it back in, like if I could do that it would stay there and nobody would know, it would be as though nothing had happened. The ground went out from under me and I was on my knees. ‘Don’t let me go blind. Please, God, don’t take it all away.’”
Davis would end up losing his left eye. He had to painstakingly relearn his balance, practicing his moves in Frank Sinatra’s Palm Springs pool as he recuperated. At his first nightclub engagement at Ciro’s weeks after the accident, everyone from Cary Grant, Spencer Tracy, Gary Cooper, June Allyson and, of course, Frank Sinatra were there to cheer him on. “Never had I felt so much a part of show business,” he writes. “All that it had given me materially was nothing compared to kinship I felt for all these people.”
I’ve found four documentaries about Davis online. 1982’s “Sammy Davis: Peace and Love” clocks in at just under an hour. It includes performances, a glimpse inside his home in California, and includes his third (and final) wife Altovise.
The second is Davis’ 1999 episode of A&E’s iconic “Biography” series, which runs 46 minutes and was narrated by host Peter Graves.
Next up is BBC 4’s “The Kid in the Middle.” About an hour long, the 2014 documentary relies on interviews with family and famous friends to tell Davis’ life story and highlight his legacy.
But it’s the February 2019 episode of PBS’ “American Masters” devoted to Davis and titled “I’ve Gotta Be Me” that has garnered the most attention. The National Endowment for the Humanities published a companion piece, written by Laurence Maslon, writer and coproducer of the episode.
The Many Lives of Sammy Davis Jr.
A new documentary shines a light on the irrepressible singer, dancer, comedian, actor, and civil rights activist. | Posted February 26, 2019
With his diminutive frame, Sammy Davis Jr. emanated enough star power to put the Hubble telescope out of business. Imagine what it must be like to star in a Broadway musical. Then imagine you have to perform ten songs, four of them solos. How about we give you a meticulously choreographed fight for the finale? Oh, and while you’re doing eight shows a week (including two on Wednesdays and Saturdays), you’re recording albums, doing charity benefits, and, to top it off, smoking three packs of cigarettes a day. But wait, as the saying goes, there’s more: You’re collaborating with a pair of biographers on your memoirs every night into the wee small hours.
This was the life of Sammy Davis Jr., beginning in the spring of 1964 ...
What do Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Judy Garland, Dinah Shore, Tony Bennett, and Sammy Davis Jr. have in common? Well, obviously, they were among the stellar lights of contemporary popular music in the first three-quarters of the twentieth century. But only one of them had the guts to commit to the grueling schedule of a run on Broadway. This wasn’t vanity on Davis’s part; it was indicative of the kind of determination that drove him throughout his career—to accomplish what no one else had ever accomplished in the entertainment field. It required more than physical stamina, given the additional task of confounding the racial barriers Davis faced from the moment he entered the profession as a four-year-old tap dancer in segregated Depression America. As he wrote in Yes I Can: The Story of Sammy Davis, Jr.—the memoir he was dictating at four in the morning during Golden Boy—“I’m going to get so big, so powerful, so famous, that the day will come when they’ll look at me and see a man—and then somewhere along the way, they’ll notice he’s a Negro.” This was the octane that fueled Sammy’s burning ambition.
Here’s the trailer for “I’ve Gotta Be Me”:
I searched for a PBS link to the full film, and didn’t find one. I did find a complete version on YouTube—with Swedish subtitles!
Davis became the first Black artist to host an hour-long primetime variety series in 1965. NBC’s “The Sammy Davis, Jr. Show.” ran from January-April 1966, with just 15 episodes. There were major, bizarre problems outside of Davis’ control—starting with a contract war with ABC and ending with NBC’s impatience—that doomed it to failure, as the definitive, if unofficial Davis online catalog explains.
But Davis never gave it less than his very best.
The series finale, taped 17th April, must rank to this day as one of the greatest solo performances in television entertainment history. Sammy decided to go out with a one-man show: he danced the show’s opening sequence live to camera, he sang (including an excellent rendition of “Soliloquy” from Carousel), he tapped, he did impressions, he showed off his gunmanship, he mimed, he even joked with his puppet doppelgänger – he did it all. Then he closed with “What Kind Of Fool Am I”, dressed as a clown.
Here it is:
Davis also toured constantly, not just in the States, but around the globe.
Here’s a tremendous 1979 performance in Australia, when Davis was in his mid-50s.
From the Aaron's Archive YouTubevideo notes:
In 1979, Sammy Davis Jr. embarked on a tour of Australia, leaving audiences captivated with his electrifying performances and magnetic charisma. The tour was a landmark moment in his illustrious career, showcasing his legendary talent and cementing his status as one of the greatest performers of all time.The live concert recording from the tour features Davis Jr. at the height of his powers, delivering an unforgettable performance that left audiences spellbound. From the moment he takes the stage, his magnetic presence commands attention, drawing the audience in with his infectious energy and undeniable charm.The show is a showcase of Davis Jr.'s versatility as a performer, spanning genres from soul to jazz to pop. He effortlessly transitions from one style to the next, delivering powerhouse vocals on classics like "What Kind of Fool Am I?" and "Mr. Bojangles", and infusing his soulful touch on songs like "I've Gotta Be Me" and "The Candy Man".
But it's not just his voice that captivates the audience - Davis Jr.'s dynamic stage presence and mastery of dance are on full display, as he seamlessly incorporates tap and other dance styles into his performance. He moves with an effortless grace and fluidity that leaves the audience mesmerized, showcasing why he was considered one of the greatest dancers of his time.What makes this concert recording even more special is the intimate setting in which it was recorded. Davis Jr. performs in a small club, giving the performance an up-close-and-personal feel that makes it all the more powerful. The audience is right there with him, laughing at his jokes, cheering him on, and reveling in the sheer joy of his performance.The concert is a testament to Davis Jr.'s enduring legacy as a performer, showcasing why he was one of the most beloved and respected figures in entertainment history. His talent, charisma, and passion continue to inspire and entertain audiences around the world, making this concert recording a timeless treasure that will be cherished for generations to come.
Of course, he was not simply an entertainer—Davis didn’t neglect all things political.
As the official Sammy Davis Jr. website points out:
Sammy was a civil rights pioneer. Not only did he break race barriers in nightclubs, on Broadway and on television, but he also became one of the movement’s greatest financial instruments. He performed at an endless number of benefits, marched with Dr. Martin Luther King in Alabama and Mississippi, and generated a huge amount of money for the cause. Sammy was a mentor to many up-and-coming performers throughout his career, including Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder.
I’d like to share my experience with his generosity.
I was sitting in the New York Headquarters of the Young Lords when I opened the day’s mail and found a check from Davis for $10,000 I almost fell out of my chair at the front desk.
At the time, I had no idea that Davis had always claimed his mom was Puerto Rican (she was actually Cuban).
But we were not the kind of radical/revolutionary political group that frequently got huge checks from celebrities. In later years, when he came under heavy criticism from certain segments in the Black community, I always defended him, because I never forgot his much-needed support.
Like Lou Rawls, whose philanthropy I featured last week, Davis raised funds for Historically Black Colleges and Universities. A few months before his death, the United Negro College Fund honored Davis as part of the Fund’s 60th anniversary celebration. The 90-minute special is packed with performances from folks from Frank Sinatra to Anita Baker, and is worth a watch.
Davis died of throat cancer in May1990. His obit in The New York Times covered his acting career.
On Broadway, Mr. Davis had many concert successes and starred in three musicals. One, in 1956, was the quasi-biographical ''Mr. Wonderful,'' which drew from Brooks Atkinson, drama critic of The New York Times, the observation that the show ''comes alive only when young Mr. Davis rocks and rolls, tap-dances or does imitations.''
The other two musicals were an updated version of ''Golden Boy'' in 1964 and a 1978 revival of ''Stop the World, I Want to Get Off.''
Perhaps his most enduring movie role was Sportin' Life in ''Porgy and Bess'' (1959), a part that elicited high praise from Bosley Crowther, motion picture critic of The Times.
Mr. Crowther wrote that ''in every respect he is the sharpest and most insinuating figure in the show.''
He played an avuncular dancer in ''Tap'' (1989), his last movie role. His other films include ''Ocean's 11'' (1960), ''Sergeants Three'' (1962), ''Johnny Cool'' (1963) and ''Robin and the Seven Hoods'' (1964).
Here’s Davis—and several other tap legends—taking a young Gregory Hines down a notch in the fantastic, iconic challenge scene from “Tap.”
RELATED STORY: Black Music Sunday: When tapping feet make magical music, Part 1
Join me in the comments below for lots more music from Sammy Davis Jr. as we celebrate his 99th birthday. Thank you, Sammy!
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