The King’s Corridor
I first wrote about Elvis Presley in 1967. I did so because I loved his music, and I felt that it had been unjustly ridiculed and neglected. I was not writing about movies, image, or popularity. I was writing about someone whom I thought of as a great blues singer (I might today amend that term to “heart” singer, in the sense that he sang all the songs he really cared about—blues and gospel and even inexplicably sentimental numbers—without barrier or affectation) and who I imagined must conceive of himself in the same way.
—Peter Guralnick, author of Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley
A few days after the New Year of 1995, on my walking route back to the bus stop after a short shopping trip to downtown Seattle, I noticed a small crowd of smiling pedestrians (about my age) gathered in front of a large corner window at the Bon Marche department store. Since I had worked as a window display designer myself in the mid-1970’s to support my “other life” as an artist, I found this level of rapt attention from passersby to be highly unusual. It was cold, and I automatically assumed that most shoppers would have preferred to get on a warm bus headed for home.
But instead of leaving on my regular bus, I decided to wait for a later one, brave some extra minutes outside, and find out what had attracted so many people to that specific window. After politely and gently squeezing myself through the existing crowd to get a closer look, I finally arrived in the front row of viewers and discovered a wondrous and almost glowing installation waiting beyond the glass. The display inside was a tribute to the “King of Rock n’ Roll,” Elvis Aron Presley, whose birthday occurred on January 8, 1935, on the “other side of the tracks” in Tupelo, Mississippi.
The masterpiece of window display artistry I had discovered awakened in me a stream of long-dormant childhood memories of listening to Elvis’ music in the mid 1950’s, when the unlikely and sudden stardom of a shy but determined young singer later transformed American popular music and youthful cultural views almost overnight, in ways that no one could have predicted.
A USA Messiah
The Bon Marche display was built around a large oil painting (artist unknown,) titled “USA Messiah,” which was ensconced on a metallic-gold-painted riser in the window’s center. The painting suggested Elvis’ “form,” but his physical presence had already “left the building” (as his stage manager always announced at the close of his performances). Only his charismatic “aura” remained.
A collection of Elvis-associated visual props surrounded the central painting, which included a pair of fancy two-toned shoes, a vintage record player, a sampling of early single and LP record covers and—as a nod to commercial practicality—some reasonably-priced clothing knock-offs (reminiscent of some of Elvis’s flamboyant Lansky Brothers wardrobe favorites) that were hung from the ceiling above the informal "shrine," or laid out on 1950's-era chairs close to the riser.
The window display was a masterpiece of visual artistry, and when I finally arrived home after my unexpected and nostalgic viewing, I excitedly called a friend to tell him about it. He immediately took the next #7 bus downtown to take a photo of the central painting as a gift for me. I still have the original 4”x 6” color photo tucked away in an archival envelope, and it appears above in the center of the feature image that begins this post.
I had no idea at the time that my friend’s photo would be the first and most beloved acquisition in what would eventually become a treasured collection of good-natured Elvis-themed memorabilia, provided to me over many years on special occasions by a beloved circle of open-minded and fun-loving friends.
A Local Hero
Among the many musical genres that Elvis Presley listened to and learned from throughout his life, he was especially attracted to the emotional intensity of black gospel, boogies, and rhythm and blues that he heard constantly on the radio. And from the beginning of his rise to fame, he publicly expressed admiration and respect for black musicians—and complete disregard for the segregation and racial prejudice then prevalent in the South. He was generally regarded as a hero in Memphis' black community, and after he showed up unexpectedly at an amusement park on "colored" night, the Memphis World, (an African American newspaper) reported that Elvis had "cracked Memphis' segregation laws."
Dressing for the Job you Want
To amplify his growing image as a cross-racial musical advocate, in 1956 Elvis began appearing at his shows wearing unconventional outfits supplied by the Lansky Brothers men’s clothing store (better known as “Lansky’s”) located at 126 Beale Street in Memphis’ lively and colorful music district.
Although the store had started out as a supplier of leftover Army supplies from World War II, Bernard Lansky soon saw an opening to provide more of the often flamboyant clothing that was preferred by black customers who wanted to dress in a more “dapper” style. And to advertise their fashion-crafting skills, Lansky’s came up with a snappy byline that they promoted on radio and in newspapers:
“Dress for the job you want, not for the job you have! ”
And it was not long before customers started doing just that.
By the mid-1950’s, Lansky’s was the place for men to shop, and its customer base had grown to include the most well-known members of Memphis’ music elite. Among them was a seventeen-year-old high school student that Bernard Lansky had first met in 1952, who continually walked by the store windows but never came in. According to Lansky, he finally invited the young man inside, and when he learned that the "kid" was an aspiring singer, the young man immediately told Bernard that he was planning to “buy him out” when he became successful.
Lansky replied,
Elvis, don’t buy me out, just buy from me! And later, he did.
Kindred Spirits
Elvis shared his unconventional, cross-racial values with two other close music professionals: Sam Phillips (who was the founder of Sun records and the music producer who recorded Elvis’ first hit, “That’s All Right,”) and Dewey Phillips (the fast-talking radio DJ who promoted black music on the air and turned Elvis’ song into a mega hit overnight.
When interviewed in 1956 after the record came out, Elvis specifically credited the song's authorship to black musician Arthur Crudup, whose recording he had listened to over and over during his childhood:
“If I ever got to the place where I could feel all old Arthur felt, I'd be a music man like nobody ever saw!”
My Two Kings
As a music-loving child growing up in the conventional, small-town environment of Kennewick, Washington, during the mid 1950’s, I listened to music nearly all the time, started playing the violin in 4th grade, and my first musical hero was Johann Sebastian Bach, the “King” of the Baroque music era.
My parents and I had recently moved from our 15-foot trailer (parked in a “court” near the Columbia River,) to a tiny house in the town’s semi-rundown, almost rural outskirts. I was excited to learn that a local musician named Big Wayne (founder of the group “Big Wayne and the Wagon Wheels”) lived somewhere across the road from us and headlined at the Richland “Y” Tavern on weekends, playing the same kind of Rockabilly hits that I would later hear from Elvis.
Our new upward mobility had allowed my mother and father to buy a small, black and white “TV set” with a rabbit ears antenna, and on Tuesday evenings they liked to relax with entertainment provided by comedian Milton Berle. I was not enthusiastic about Berle’s irritating voice and corny comedy skits, but always looked forward to hearing the special guest musicians that he often included on his program, who were mostly unknown to national TV audiences.
As my parents settled in one Tuesday evening to enjoy Milton Berle’s program, the guest musician segment turned out to be far different than what my parents had expected. It featured a handsome young singer from Memphis, Tennessee named “Elvis Presley,” who tore out to the stage dressed in an outfit that any black musician who frequented Memphis’s lively Beale Street would have approved of. He tossed his hair wildly to accompany his (also black-inspired) dance moves, and as the final flourish, he had added some dark mascara and eyeliner to his stage makeup, just like one of his musical heroes, Little Richard.
The song Elvis sang on Berle's show was titled “Hound Dog,” one of his latest hits in the South, which combined his own white rockabilly roots with the raucous and ecstatic wailings of black blues and gospel singing. The song itself was written by song stylists Mike Stoller and Jerry Lieber, especially for a black, female blues artist named Willie Mae “Big Mama” Thorton, whom they greatly admired.
My parents were shocked and bewildered by Elvis’s performance, but I loved it!
Unfortunately, his palpable musical joyfulness, gritty, slang-accented vocals, and outlandish dancing style did not “sit well” with my mother. And as a result, when our small, local Kennewick movie theatre announced that they would finally be showing Elvis’s first movie titled “Loving You,“ she did not allow me to attend the screening, even though the "romantic" script was without dancing and achingly bland.
I don’t remember exactly how I somehow found a way to get around what I interpreted to be a harsh and unfair confinement, but I do remember that I did see the film anyway, and in those days before streaming, it was not in anyone’s home…
“If you cain’t play that thang, jes’ throw it out the winda!”
Party Event Central
In 1998, inspired by the USA Messiah painting photo that a friend gave me in 1995, I hosted my 50th birthday party in a former elementary school auditorium later converted into a live/work studio space for an artist friend and party prep collaborator. Highlights of the evening are shown below in the short, home movie "trailer." You may recognize at least one of the guests...
And at my wedding celebration in the year 2000, my Greek-born bandmate assumed the same role during the after dinner "Talent Show."
And finally, for my 2013, 65th birthday, I hosted a "Trailer Trash Bash" party, to pay homage to my trailer court years by the Columbia River.
This party’s “Special Guest” was my Turkish friend and chef “Sedat” who assumed the lead role, modeling an original “Lansky-influenced” couture design, created by Artiste and Seamstress Extraordinaire Sandra Mae Dean. For those not “in the know,” at age 9, Sandra was the first place winner in the Tea Towel and Potholder category at the Yakima County Fair.
Over the years, a good time was had by all!
Highlights from the King’s Corridor Gallery
From the initial Graceland tray that one of my massage clients purchased for me when she visited her home town of Memphis, to the closing poster summary of “key dates” in Elvis’ life, the examples of “collectable” memorabilia included in this gallery were all sent or given to me by friends over many years of merriment and good will.
Epilogue
In researching information about Elvis Presley to feature in this post, I found the following cheat-list summary of tragic Italian opera plots and realized that his rags-to-riches life story touches on nearly all of these themes:
- Unrequited or Forbidden Love: A central romantic relationship that is doomed due to external pressures, societal constraints, or misunderstandings.
- Betrayal and Deception: Key characters often betray each other, either out of jealousy, ambition, or revenge.
- Fatal Misunderstanding: Miscommunication or a tragic twist of fate often seals the characters’ doom.
- Social and Political Conflicts: Themes of class differences, family honor, or political intrigue play significant roles in driving the tragedy.
- Sacrifice and Redemption: A character might sacrifice themselves (emotionally or physically) for love, honor, or justice.
- Tragic Flaw or Downfall: The protagonist often suffers due to their own flaws, such as jealousy, pride, or impulsiveness.
- Death as Resolution: Most tragic operas end with the death of one or more major characters, often accompanied by overwhelming pathos and catharsis.
- Dramatic Music and Aria Moments: The music heightens emotional intensity, with arias and duets expressing deep grief, love, or despair.
The details of these themes are too lengthy to include in this post, but Peter Guralnick's Last Train to Memphis (noted below in the resources section) expands the real-life characters and plots more completely.
My own summary of Elvis' life is short, accurate and easy to read:
An idealistic, romantic, determined, and musically-gifted hero achieves fame and fortune through talent and good luck, but does not read the fine print of his contracts. He ends up betrayed and cheated by his controlling, gambling-addicted manager, and suffers a sad and bitter end.
The King has left the building, but his legacy lives on.
Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley In this well-researched and loving biography, author Peter Guralnick documents the talent, triumphs, and betrayals of one of America’s most popular musical heroes.
Sweet Soul Music: Rhythm and Blues and the Southern Dream of Freedom Peter Guralnick’s writing captures the soul of Southern black music and places it within the context of the great social upheavals that completely transformed Southern life and culture.
Elvis '56 In this fascinating documentary film, narrated by The Band’s Levon Helm, Elvis Presley’s life and values are highlighted against a background of often harsh social backlash.
Ball and Chain A tough, gritty and breathtaking live performance of black singer Big Mama Thornton’s original song, “Ball and Chain.”
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