Sportin’ Life: John W. Bubbles, An American Classic by Brian Harker (Oxford University Press, 2022)

—Cathy Ritchie

A special joy in my life as a biography nerd arises from learning more about someone who’s previously been only a fleeting name to me. Brian Harker does indeed bring the joy with his fine biography of the gifted performer who gave us Porgy and Bess’s definitive Sportin’ Life and who is considered by many, including one Fred Astaire, to have been the greatest tap dancer of all time: John W. Bubbles.

Early in his career, Astaire prevailed upon Bubbles for a tap dance refresher lesson, and never forgot what he learned that day. As an early/mid-20th-century Black entertainer, however, Bubbles knew his professional horizons were automatically limited; his future was always layered with regret regarding what might and should have been. But while he struggled and triumphed, his glorious talents inspired many current and future hoofers.

He was born John W. Sublett in Louisville in 1902; the stage name Bubbles came later. His song and dance talents were quickly evident, and in 1919 he teamed up with virtuoso pianist Ford “Buck” Washington. “Buck and Bubbles” remained a duo for more than 30 years, and Harker devotes the largest share of his narrative to their success and influence in vaudeville and beyond.

While Buck provided the music, Bubbles sang, tapped, and shared comic repartee. This simple formula eventually made them headline performers throughout the nation. They became the first Black entertainers to appear at Radio City Music Hall, and later the first Black song-and-dance team on television anywhere in the world. Since vaudeville shaped Bubbles’s entire career, Harker offers much historical background about the milieu in which he flourished.

In 1935, Bubbles joined the cast of a new show by George Gershwin, Porgy and Bess, creating and (many would say) perfecting the role of Sportin’ Life. With his phenomenal dancing, natural onstage charm, expressive vocals, and overall panache, he birthed one of the Broadway musical’s greatest characters.

What made Bubbles’s dancing unique? He created so-called “rhythm tap.” In contrast to the legendary Bill “Bojangles” Robinson, who tapped principally on his toes, Bubbles used  “percussive heel drops” that allowed him more rhythmic freedom. Says one authority: “He blended the improvisational style of jazz music with the traditional techniques of tap to create a unique style and sound.” Fortunately, vintage clips of Bubbles revolutionary dance style abound.

Yet despite his theatrical fame and success, Bubbles always longed to make feature films. With the exception of 1943’s Black entertainment extravaganza Cabin in the Sky, his movie appearances were usually brief and extraneous to the plots—and could easily be eliminated when the films played in Southern movie houses.

Harker posits that Hollywood’s movers and shakers were particularly reluctant to give Bubbles larger movie roles because of the handsome Black man’s obvious on-screen sensuality. His film presence was innocuous as long as he and Buck were spinning tunes and dance steps, but anything more substantial or realistic would pose some kind of audience threat.

I’m not sure if this theory holds water. The fact remains that John Bubbles’ abilities and natural charisma could have made him a major star, if his performing parameters hadn’t been circumscribed from the start. As Harker puts it: “The point is not that Bubbles was robbed of his rightful place in show business; the point is that we will never know….While he might well have been the greatest song-and-dance man of his generation, we don’t know what he would have done with his own starring role in a feature film. Judging from his performance as Sportin’ Life, it could have been extraordinary.”

Bubbles’s personal life was complicated. He married four times and fathered at least three children he barely knew. His was a volatile personality: he was frequently charming, but periodically prone to violent mood swings and aggression towards his wives and paramours. Harker never shies away from this aspect of the Bubbles legend.

After “Buck and Bubbles” disbanded in 1955, Bubbles subsequent career included many lean years. But with the advent of television came resurgence and new recognition. Well into his 60s, Bubbles made numerous variety show appearances, demonstrating his still-remarkable tap skills and introducing himself to a new generation—while offering welcome nostalgia to those mourning vaudeville’s demise. Along the way, he made some important friends: Johnny Carson, Bob Hope, Lucille Ball, and Judy Garland became admirers and benefactors during Bubbles’s tough financial times. I personally found this portion of Harker’s narrative especially moving.

In 1967, Bubbles suffered the first of several strokes which eventually confined him to a wheelchair. Yet he continued to make personal appearances at tap and music festivals until his death in 1986.

Fortunately for us all, YouTube offers plentiful footage of Bubbles’ film and television magic. It does sadden me to witness his obvious brilliance, so seemingly misused due to forces beyond his control—but every brief moment spent with John Bubbles is a gift. 

That Fred Astaire was no fool.