If there is one man in show business who can claim he's seen and done it all, Skitch Henderson is that man. Most famous for having been the first musical director on the "The Tonight Show," he has played piano for a laundry list of legends.
He accompanied Judy Garland before she was known by that name. He was part of Toscannini's illustrious NBC Orchestra. He was the architect behind some of the most enduring popular music records of the post-war era, backing up such icons as Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby. He was with Steve Allen and Johnny Carson in the early days of television. He knew Leonard Bernstein as "Lenny."
After all this, Mr. Henderson founded the New York Pops, a Big Apple institution since 1983 whose concerts are broadcast regularly on National Public Radio.
He came to Hanover yesterday, accompanied by some of the most accomplished musicians in the country, to present the first lecture in the Dean of the College series, a presentation on improvisation in American music. Mr. Henderson sat down with The Dartmouth before his performance yesterday.
The Dartmouth: One of your first big gigs was playing for Judy Garland on the MGM tours back in the '30s. What do you remember about that experience?
Skitch Henderson: Well her name was Judy Gumm, and that's the first thing, it was the Gumm Sisters, they were a trio. And then when she went to Metro (MGM) when she went under contract, they change your name in Hollywood. My name is Lyle Russell Cedric Henderson, that's my Christian name, I became "Skitch." So then she became Judy Garland. She had just been named Judy Garland when I joined that tour, it was with her and Mickey Rooney. And Judy would sing one song to praise MGM, and you couldn't live in life if you didn't see an MGM film. They owned the movie theaters at the time, and we did this strange tour starting in Denver and ending up in Chicago, and that was really my beginning of crossing the bridge from being a classical musician to being a so-called variety player.
The D: How did you make that transition on that tour?
SH: Sheer terror, I think. Stay out of the way. It was just the three of us and our road manager Frank Burkett. We'd work in front of the traveler, in front of the screen, and then at the end I would stand up with them, and I had never been to Hollywood, but we'd stand up and tell these awful lies about how wonderful it was in Hollywood. Interesting how life begins, you learn quickly.
The D: You played with Sinatra extensively, what was he like?
SH: Well I knew him in the [Tommy] Dorsey Band days so I knew him from the beginning, we were friends all our life. I did a lot of radio with him. He was a good friend. He was real. As he became a star like all stars he became opinionated, that's one of the joys of when you put on that mantle. Everyone thinks how wonderful you are. But he was, for me, a very genuine human being. The thing I remember most is when he and I did a recital at the U.N. once. And it was fascinating because maybe 70 percent of the audience didn't know who Sinatra was, and didn't know who I was even though I was very visible in television at the time. And we had a lot of silence and polite U.N. applause, which is death. But that's one of the things he and I always talked about all our lives, our U.N. recital of quietude.
The D: I remember reading that you once called Bing Crosby your "guru." What did you mean by that?
SH: Well he taught me many things. He taught me the discipline of this business. He taught me to be on time. Number one, be on time. Number two was never have a hassle. Number three was when anybody asks you a favor, always say "yes" and then figure out a way to do it, wrong or right. And I use that philosophy and have used it all my life.
The D: The story goes that Bing was the one who gave you your nickname, how did that come about?
SH: Well I was a rehearsal pianist at MGM and they called me "the sketch kid," the reason being that when songwriters like Berlin, Cole Porter, the big songwriters of that time would bring a score in, they would do the initial presentation. We would all sit in this huge studio, it was really Armageddon, while this producer who didn't know anything about music would pretend to be an authority. Now, I'm talking about songs that are standards today but they had never been heard then. And I would sit in the corner and I could transpose and they would say "get the sketch kid in here." And I would go to the piano and transpose the song to the key for the artist for whom the song had been ostensibly written. And Bing had once told me to get my name straightened out if I was going to compete, and I had never thought of competing. But he said, that's wrong, my name being Cedric and my nickname being "Seedy," and I hated that. So, I became "Skitch" and it stuck. I changed my passport at that time. It was a different world then. Happier, much happier. We all were friends. If we had a bomb, we'd tell each other; if things worked we'd tell each other.
The D: What was it about Bing Crosby's partnership with Bob Hope that made them so special together?
SH: Professionals. They weren't friends, they were professional friends. They had worked in vaudeville before coming out to Hollywood. When Bob came to Hollywood, he waited around for nine months and it didn't work. So one night, I went with Bing some night when he was doing a benefit and Bob was there. And at the end of the night, Bing said to Bob "why don't you get up and we'll do some of our schtick that we did in vaudeville?" And they did, and there was a director there by the name of David Butler who watched it and cast Hope, and the rest is history.
The D: When you took the job at NBC, what kind of a future did you sense television had?
SH: None of us knew anything, so there was really kind of a Valhalla of wonderment because nobody bothered us. The lawyers hadn't learned to bother us yet. It was a very creative period. I treasure the first four or five years of the morning of shows like "The Tonight Show" and "The Today Show" and many shows that didn't last.
The D: What was it about Johnny Carson that made him such an enduring figure in American pop culture?
SH: Omaha, I guess. He never lost Omaha. He never could understand why eggs at Sardie's should cost three dollars when you could get the same thing in Omaha for 55 cents. He said that all the time. I had been around with Steve Allen before John, and when John came aboard when I was musical director at NBC. John didn't adore me being part of the family because he thought I was a company man. So we spent two years of being rather silent. We smiled on the air but we never spoke off the air. But Ed McMahon got us together one night, and we became friends. I occasionally see him from time to time now.
The D: How's he doing?
SH: He's doing good, he's put on a lot of weight.
The D: You mentioned Steve Allen, what do you think made him such a natural in front of the camera?
SH: I don't think the camera had anything to do with it. I think you are or you aren't. The first thing you have to do is learn to ignore the camera, if you're going to work in television. Not now, because it's all so scripted and platformed and audio applaused. But then it was honest and you learned to ignore the camera and let the camera find you. That's the way it works. And Steve was a genius when things went wrong. That's where he was fantastic. And we had train wrecks. We were live then from 11:15 until one in the morning. And that's a long time to do. And when we started I think we had three stations. We took "The Tonight Show" on the road to get stations. It was a very interesting period.
The D: What is it about "The Tonight Show" that has made it last and has it still going as strong today as it's ever been?
SH: It's been the same format the whole time, and I think that's what's made it successful. When Steve decided to go to Sunday nights, they experimented with a newspaper man Earl Wilson, they experimented with different shows, and it didn't work. And then they brought in Jack Paar and he kept the format going. It is a format. I think, as a format, if it's successful don't mess with it.
The D: What led you to want to start the New York Pops?
SH: I guess when the music business disappeared in New York, everything went to Hollywood. I had been out there, and didn't want to go back. My family, where I lived, my farm in Connecticut, everything that I had lived and worked for was Yankee, and I certainly didn't want to tear that up. And my kids were in school then, and I didn't want to tear up their lives. I wanted to stay in New York. So when Lenny Bernstein had the Philharmonic, I tried doing some pops concerts, not unlike Boston, and it was a disaster. But I copyrighted the title "The New York Pops" and registered it and kept it and tried it again when I had the time to do it. And now we're in our 21st, 22nd year, it's amazing. Luck. Such a business of luck. You've got to be prepared, but if you aren't lucky then you might as well put on your bowler and go home.
The D: You mentioned that the format hadn't worked in New York before, what was it like trying to get this thing started up?
SH: The Boston Pops had a night that they did in New York once a year, and they cancelled one year. And the then-manager of Carnegie Hall called and said "Is this an omen? Maybe you should try it again." And I did, and we had a full house, so I knew I had a chance. And Isaac Stern was my neighbor in Connecticut and he came to me about a week later and said, "Let's go into business."
The D: Is there an art to accompaniment?
SH: I think it's the toughest. I love to accompany. It's really my favorite art form. I wouldn't want to live my life over, but one of the things I enjoy the most is accompanying people in all kinds of music. I'm not the pianist I once was, so I am careful with classical repertoire. But I love people who can really sing. Not these 14-year-olds, but the singers that are still alive. It's a joy. That's what I enjoy.
The D: Is there a secret to it?
SH: Stay out of the way. Be supportive, but stay out of the way. That's a hard combination.
The D: What brings you here to Hanover today?
SH: The dean [Dean of Faculty of Arts and Sciences Michael Gazzaniga], he's a good friend. We've talked about this many, many times, and I'm here because the people who are with me are so incredible. They bring a color that I would like students and, maybe, elder students to remember. But the young students, I'd like them to hear what the real, honest to God, American musical platform is. And having people like Peter Appleyard from Britain and Sara [Caswell] from the University of Indiana, that fantastic music school, Sherri Maricle has a great jazz band and is a professor at NYU in percussion, Gene Bertoncini the guitarist was with me for years at NBC, so I hope it'll work.
The D: What led you to put this group together?
SH: Because we enjoy working together. We talk, we don't criticize each other, we program. We have an idea, but we generally program when we get here and decide what we'll work, however everybody feels this day. But, this is really for Mike Gazzaniga. I had the choir from Dartmouth with me at Carnegie Hall eight or nine years ago and I've never forgotten it. It was a wonderful experience, I think for them as well as for me.
The D: What are you hoping to pass on to people here at Dartmouth?
SH: I hope the knowledge that we have, without being professors and without being "here we are we're wonderful." In my opinion these players are the best of "middle brow." That's the only way you can make a living is to know "middle brow." High rollers walk away from you because they go to some other pasture, and the low rollers aren't sure who you are. So, to be "middle brow" is the best of all societies, and that's what we are.
