Lately, our posts have been centered around major milestones in Louis Armstrong’s life, such as the OKeh Records Cabaret and Style Show of 1926 or the recording of Satch Plays Fats from 1955. Today, we’re celebrating something on a smaller scale, something that even the most hardened Armstrong fan isn’t familiar with, but we think there’s enough in our Archives–and the archives of our good friends at the University of North Texas–that it’ll make for a pretty action packed post.
The subject is Wide, Wide World, a 90-minute special broadcast as part of NBC’s Producer’s Showcase on June 27, 1955–70 years today. For the television historians out there, Archive.org has a 548-page PDF of NBC Press Releases from 1955, with many of them devoted to this show. To offer some backstory, here’s part of a press release from June 1, 1955:
ALL NORTH AMERICA BECOMES SETTING FOR NBC’S “WIDE WIDE WORLD”
AS U.S., CANADA AND MEXICO ARE PICKUP POINTS FOR BIG TELECAST
Program Conceived by NBC President Weaver Will Enable Televiewers to Experience Thrills of Scenes And Activities at Famed Locales in All 3 Lands
North America becomes the television stage on which a new programming concept will be unveiled when the National Broadcasting Company, in conjunction with the television networks of Canada and Mexico, introduces WIDE WIDE WORLD on Monday, June 27, from 8 to 9:30 p.m., EDT.
Conceived by NBC President Sylvester L. Weaver Jr., “Wide Wide World” will enable millions of North Americans to experience the thrills of new places through live television. The telecast will take the audience back and forth across the face of the continent for more than 32,000 miles, equal to 1-1/3 times around the world.
With origination points in three countries, this will be the first time in broadcasting and entertainment history that American, Canadian and Mexican technical and programming facilities have been combined for one show. In spanning the three North American countries, “Wide Wide World” will have the largest hookup of stations ever grouped for one telecast.
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That initial press release goes on for six pages about the types of locales Wide, Wide World could cover across the three countries that make up North America, including the possibility of “hot jazz” in New Orleans, but clearly, nothing concrete had been set up as of that date. That soon changed when someone at NBC noticed the “American Music Festival” was taking place on June 27 in Washington D. C.; here’s an ad from the Washington Evening Star of June 12, 1955:
That was good enough for the work, who had a description–and the exact timings–all set when they put out their “NBC Color Telecast Schedule” on June 21:
Monday, June 27 8:09-8:20 and 8:44-8:54 p.m., EDT — on WIDE WIDE WORLD — the telecast which will take the television audience back and forth across the face of the continent with origination points in three countries. Two color pick-ups — both from the Carter Barron Amphitheatre in Washington, D.C. — will present band concerts featuring Louis Armstrong and Woody Herman. Also all Ford and RCA commercials will be done in color.
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Everything was set for the live color broadcast–which, as far as I can tell, no longer survives on video (YouTube does have a later episode of Wide, Wide World from October 16 and the Paley Center has four complete episodes, but not the June 27, 1955 one). But here’s the good news: when the show ended, NBC sent a 12-inch acetate to Louis Armstrong’s home containing the jazz portions of the broadcast! Here’s Side 1 of the disc:
And side 2:
And you didn’t think we’d get this far without sharing the audio, did you? Now, we’ve gone over this before: we’re including an aural watermark–a beep every 30 seconds–to prevent any commercial use of this material, but seeing that it’s never been issued or made public before in any shape or form, we think it’s a small price to pay.
Thus, we’ll start with Side 1, which opens with the voice of host Dave Garroway, introducing Woody Herman. This seems to be his personnel of the period, but if we missed something, let us know: Woody Herman – clarinet; Nat Pierce – piano; John Beal – bass; Chuck Flores – drums; Art Pirie – tenor sax; Richie Hafer – tenor sax; Richie Kamuca – tenor; Jack Nimitz – baritone sax; Charlie Walp – trumpet; Jerry Kail – trumpet; Cam Mullins – trumpet; Rueben LaFall – trumpet; Dick Collins – trumpet; Cy Touff – bass trumpet; Keith Moon – trombone; Dick Kenny – trombone.
We hear the end of a song–anyone know what it is from the final notes?–before Garroway talks a bit over the next selection, “Mother Goose Jump,” originally recorded by Herman in 1953 and definitely based on (to my ears) Louis Jordan’s “School Days.” Herman also performed this at the Newport Jazz Festival a few weeks later on July 15, 1955, so it was definitely a favorite from this era. At 3:45, Herman introduces the great Bobby Hackett, who plays a gorgeous “My Funny Valentine” backed by Herman’s Herd. Garroway interrupts the very ending, but it’s still great to have–here’s the audio!
Side 2 is all Louis and the All Stars, the prime edition that recorded Plays W. C. Handy and Satch Plays Fats with Trummy Young on trombone, Barney Bigard on clarinet, Billy Kyle on piano, Arvell Shaw on bass, and Barrett Deems on drums. Armstrong chose to open with something brand new–so new, it hadn’t even been issued yet–“Pretty Little Missy.” This is one of Armstrong’s last-known compositions, based on a riff Billy Kyle used to play on his “Perdido” feature (Kyle got co-composer credit). Armstrong and the All Stars recorded it for Decca on April 25, but as far as I can tell, it wasn’t mentioned in the press until July 14 and Down Beat didn’t review it until its August 9 issue (it wasn’t even officially copyrighted until July 1). Thus, Armstrong was trying to drum up some interest in his new composition, hoping for a hit, but it wasn’t to be, though he did keep it in his repertoire until the very end of his life, making multiple studio recordings of it over the years.
Again, Garroway talks over the head, so we really pick it up with the vocal. It’s my pet theory that Armstrong loved to sing this song so much because he loved pulling one over on audiences during the bridge, substituting “pucker up” with a similar-sounding curse that went right over the heads of the public. Some surviving versions are quite blatant (and should probably have parental warnings!); he’s on good behavior here on national television (a year after getting in trouble for making a “half-fast” joke on Stage Show), but the second utterance is on the border. Trummy Young follows with some shouting trombone over Deems’s pulverizing drums before a powerhouse bridge by Pops, heading to the final bridge. This was clearly a shortened version for TV, eliminating the chorus based on Ralph Flanagan’s “Hot Toddy,” but it’s still a nice a romp.
Then Armstrong introduces Velma Middleton for something a little more familiar, their timeless routine on “That’s My Desire,” which always brought down the house–oh, imagine if this survived in color!? (The review mentions Velma wearing a violet blue dress.) At 6:40, Armstrong launches into “When the Saints Go Marching In,” another shortened version with Armstrong taking over after Barney’s clarinet solo (dig that “My Sweetie Went Away” quote!), but as a bonus, we get to hear the entire Herman band riffing away in the background. The balance isn’t great, but Louis’s trumpet tone cuts through, as usual–here’s the audio!
In researching this post, I came across this excellent review of the show from James O’Neill Jr. in the Washington Daily News (with some knocks of the television crew who kept getting in the way of the action):
For his part, Armstrong saved the Washington Post review, but he covered it in so much Scotch tape, it’s illegible:
Fortunately, I was able to zoom in and transcribe it:
Night of Jazz Crowds Amphitheater
By Paul Sampson
A capacity crowd filled the Carter Barron Amphitheater last night for the opener of the three-day Festival of American Music.
The “American music” was jazz and the greatest jazz man of them all, Louis Armstrong, was on hand with his small band. Woody Herman’s Third Herd, Bobby Hackett, and Muggsy Spanier’s band also played.
Conspicuously present also were the television cameras and glaring lights of the National Broadcasting Company, which broadcasts part of the concert on a new TV show, Wide, Wide World. The demands of television made the first half of the concert a chopped up affair, but things settled after the interruptions.
The accent was on showmanship. Jazz, unfortunately, now reached the point where musicians feel they can present their music on its own merits without adorning it with the dubious trapping of phony finger snapping, broad gestures and, worst of all, exaggeration in the music itself.
Armstrong, of course, is an instinctive showman, and his crowd-pleasing clowning flowed naturally and did not seriously interfere with his music. It is practically impossible for Armstrong to play badly and he makes even mediocre material sound first rate. The concert is almost worth hearing just for Armstrong’s masterful trumpet and inimitable gravel-throated singing.
Too much of his band’s material, however, was second-rate and more blues would have been welcome. Musically, Armstrong showed to best advantage in his up-tempo solo on “Indiana” and in his relaxed lead on “The Gypsy.”
Trummy Young played a fine raucous trombone, but Barney Bigard, never a penetrating clarinetist at best, was practically inaudible in the ensemble. Barrett Deems’ drums were much too loud, and drowned out the soloist.
Woody Herman’s band displayed a powerful brass section but the saxophone section seemed a little thin and lacked outstanding soloists. The weakness of the sax section was especially noticeable on the Herman standard “Four Brothers.”
They played to better advantage on a good version of “Moten Swing.” It is the brass section that really makes this a great band.
Herman’s band, obviously a well rehearsed group, achieves a powerful swinging cohesion and can generate a lot of excitement on show pieces like “Wild Apple Honey,” but can also control its power on rocking blues like “Opus De Funk.”
Hackett played his usual suave, melodious trumpet on a number of solos with the Herman band, including the beautiful “Stardust.”
Spanier’s band played rather routine Dixieland that wasn’t made any better by Muggsy’s half hearted attempts at showmanship. Spanier did playa good plunger mute solo on a slow tempo version of “Careless Love,” and every once in a while his cornet showed traces of his old drive. Spanier’s clarinetist played excellent solos, particularly on “Cherry.”
The same artists will perform at 8:30 p.m. today and Wednesday.
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That wraps up the Wide, Wide World broadcast of June 27, 1955–but wait, there’s more! The very next day, while still in D. C., Willis Conover invited Armstrong, Herman, Hackett, and Barney Bigard to be guests on his radio programs. Photographs were taken and Armstrong saved four of them, which we still have in our Archives. Here’s Armstrong and Conover at the Voice of America microphone:
Armstrong and Conover at the microphone, with Herman, Hackett, and Bigrad in the background:
Hackett, Bigard, Armstrong, and Herman:
And finally, the same foursome, plus Conover:
Now for the real fun–which will require you to leave this site, but we don’t mind; in fact, we encourage it! The good folks at the University of North Texas (hello, Maristella Feustle!) have done incredible work digitizing Willis Conover’s collection. Over on their site, they have two complete broadcasts recorded on June 28, 1955 in impeccable sound. First off, CLICK HERE to go to the page for Conover’s WEAM radio show, House of Sounds. After opening with his theme for this program, Herman’s “Early Autumn,” Conover talks to Herman for a few minutes bringing up the previous night’s television show. Bobby Hackett then comes on and makes a joke about how he and Herman looked like Eddie Sauter and Bill Finegan (who were originally supposed to be on the Carter Barron bill), leading to a joke about calling themselves “Abercrombie and Fitch.”
This gets an audible chuckle out of Armstrong, which sets up the main event: a rollicking, sprawling, 23-minute conversation with Armstrong himself! Armstrong opens by mentioning he caught the Sauter-Finegan Orchestra in Chicago and they “knocked me out.” Armstrong even mentions singing one with the band, saying, “Cats was making them chords behind me, it was pretty.” Armstrong mentions Gene Krupa was also on Wide, Wide World, leading to a discussion of The Benny Goodman Story, which was in production at the time (with quick mentions of Steve Allen and even Sol Yaged). Conover jokes about “Sh-Boom,” which leads to a priceless moment of Armstrong repeating the title in a questioning fashion. Armstrong mentions that he doesn’t play the song but he has the record and hears it on the radio, adding that he sometimes warmed up by playing along with the radio (this was true and some we explored in this post from 2020).
Hackett then plugs Armstrong’s new tune of “Pretty Little Missy,” causing Armstrong to make an ASCAP joke and a mention that he wired his manager Joe Glaser to get “a taste” of the advance for recording it. After a funny story about recording “Gone Fishin'” with Bing Crosby, the subject turns back to “Pretty Little Missy,” with Armstrong mentioning it came from Billy Kyle. A mention of royalties leads Armstrong to tell the story of how he wrote “Sister Kate” and sold it to A. J. Piron for $50, who didn’t put his name on it. Armstrong then talks about writing tunes in the 1920s for OKeh and selling them for quick money instead of royalties. Woody Herman tells a similar story about Isham Jones, leading Armstrong to remember Jones’s trumpeter Louis Panico coming to hear him play with King Oliver at the Lincoln Gardens. Armstrong then dips into his bag of favorite anecdotes to talk about making breaks with Oliver and how Buster Bailey and Rudy Jackson tried and failed to replicate the magic.
By this point, Armstrong is in stream-of-conscious mode, bringing up Freddie Keppard playing with a handkerchief over his hands. Bobby Hackett teases Conover for being so quiet so after some laughter, Armstrong uncorks another story about Buck Washington falling asleep during Armstrong’s set in 1929. Conover tells Armstrong to keep going for about 15 more minutes–and he does! The musicians talk about things they hear from fans, asking where they’re playing next or “Is this your regular band?” Armstrong hen tells another favorite about the guy who called him “Ol’ Sacriface” before telling a different one about Jack Teagarden in Sweden and another about Sandy Williams getting lost in France in 1948 so he just played his trombone until someone found him and helped him get on the next train.
Armstrong’s rolling now, so the mention of France leads him to tell a story about fixing Hughes Panassie’s leg with wintergreen, “that ol’ down home remedy.” At 15:20, we get one of the earliest mentions of the herbal laxative Swiss Kriss, which he started taking in 1954. His mention gets a few chuckles but it had not become part of the Satchmo persona yet; that would all change the following year. Armstrong realizes he’s commandeering the conversation, so he lets Woody and Willis talk about drummer Joe Timer, who died on May 18, 1955. Armstrong re-enters to mention a show he had done with Herman some time earlier; Hackett mentions he was on the show, too, with Eddie Condon, and then inserts a knowing call-back to “Swiss Kriss,” getting a big laugh out of Louis.
With more time to kill, Armstrong begins telling his famous “Alligator Story” at 18:00, which he sometimes told onstage. Everyone cracks up at Armstrong’s offcolor joke, causing Conover to say, “I’ll tell you something, Louis, you’re the only guy in the world who would tell that story and we’d still broadcast it.” Bobby Hackett mentions playing a “yam festival” in Appaloosas, Louisiana, which inspires some more food reminiscing from Louis. Showing that he was paying attention to everything, Louis mentions that he knew Hackett recently performed in New Orleans and he knew Woody Herman recorded his MGM single of “I Cried for You” down there in 1952.
The reference to MGM leads to a quick discussion of labels, with Herman calling Armstrong “the backbone of Decca.” Hackett adds that he’s going to make four more sides to expand his Capitol 10-inch LP Soft Lights and Sweet Music into a 12-inch (Conover notes that the 10-inch discs were being “scrapped”). Armstrong compliments Hackett on that record, specifically “That Old Black Magic” and Hackett’s performance of Armstrong’s composition “Someday You’ll Be Sorry.” Both Hackett and Herman say they’ll record “Pretty Little Missy”–but they didn’t. Armstrong talks about records and how sometimes the flip side contains a bigger hit, mentioning his “That Lucky Old Sun” was doing well until someone turned it over and discovered “Blueberry Hill,” which became a bigger hit. Herman then mentions that he has an original song he’d like to send to Louis, “It’s 33 Miles from Fort Worth to Dallas.” Armstrong asks something that I cannot quite make out, but it breaks him up! Conover mentions they only have 30 seconds left so they quickly say some enthusiastic farewells, before Conover mentions going back to the Carter Barron (Armstrong says it featured, “The most relaxed crowd I’ve seen in a long time.”).
Once you’ve digested that gem, CLICK HERE to listen to episode 226B of Cover’s famed Voice of America program, Music USA, now with Barney Bigard joining the fun. This is more of a standard broadcast, opening with Conover’s traditional theme song, Duke Ellington’s “Take the A Train.” Conover then features a short conversation with Barney Bigard, sandwiched between two of his features from his days with Ellington, “Clarinet Lament” and “Are You Sticking.” Barney has a pretty unassuming personality, but he has some nice things to say about Louis and Duke and talks about how musicians “improve with age.” Pressed to name his favorite clarinetists, Bigard names Buster Bailey, Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw, and Omer Simeon, before mentioning that no longer practiced because working with the All Stars kept him so busy.
Bobby Hackett gets the same treatment, with Conover spinning “If There is Someone Lovelier Than You” and “That Old Black Magic.” I always love hearing Hackett speak and it’s a treat to hear him talk about his early days with Glenn Miller and how Armstrong is his “idol.” Woody Herman follows the longest chunk of music played–four songs, “Four Brothers,” “Bijou,” “I Cried for You,” and “Early Autumn”–but also, the shortest interview. Conover asks him to name his favorite Herd and Herman understandably punts, but does praise some of his distinguished alumni. Herman predicts a bright future for jazz and points to how much recording was being done and how much his band was working; kind of sad to think about how Herman ended up owing the government millions in back taxes and working to the end of his life.
Finally, Armstrong closes the show, with Conover choosing his 1941 instrumental Decca recording of “When It’s Sleepy Time South” to set the mood. It’s amazing how the whole atmosphere brightens as soon as Armstrong starts speaking. Conover mentions the last time he had him in the studio, he had Louis sing over some Billy May records with the melody left out (an early “music-minus-one” type of thing). The good news is that particular broadcast also survives on the University of North Texas site–check it out by CLICKING HERE!
Being a Voice of America broadcast, most of the interview time is spent with Armstrong discussing his international exploits, naming friends and musicians overseas at the time, telling tales of his time in Paris, and praising the response of various Hot Clubs to his music. Again, this is June 1955 and Armstrong is just getting the ball rolling for the big three-month European tour that commenced in October 1955, cementing his “Ambassador Satch” status and getting the State Department to take notice. Conover eventually asks Armstrong about recording Louis Armstrong Plays W. C. Handy, as Armstrong reminisces about Handy listening to the playbacks and being touched by what he heard. “Music don’t have no age,” Armstrong says, dispensing wisdom. Conover pays a nice tribute to Louis and sets up the nearly nine-minute version of “St. Louis Blues” from the Handy album, which takes us almost to the end of the show. Armstrong comes back to say, “See you all of a sudden,” and a reprise of Ellington’s “Take the A Train” takes us home.
Whew! Two Willis Conover broadcasts (thank you, UNT!), some rare photos, newspaper articles, and about 17-minutes of previously unissued music–that’s a pretty packed post and a pretty appropriate way of celebrating 24 hours in the life of Louis Armstrong as they happened 70 years ago today. Thanks for reading!