Mohair and Manners
In the Motown realm, Maxine Powell faced an intriguing challenge with the one and only Miss Diane Ross, new to the label. Ross had an unfortunate habit of bulging her eyes while belting out her tunes, and this peculiar blunder threatened to bring down her fellow Supremes. Powell knew she had her work cut out for her.
As the mastermind behind Motown’s Artists Development Department, affectionately known as “charm school,” Powell held the key to transforming raw talent into polished gems. It wasn’t just about appearances, though. Powell’s curriculum delved into image, choreography, and performance etiquette, all aimed at shattering preconceived notions and defying Black stereotypes.
The Supremes. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys
She didn’t aim to mold every female artist into a cookie-cutter beauty queen, like she once had been herself. Powell’s mission was far grander. She sought to provide these artists—men and women—with the essential instruction to carry themselves with grace and sophistication beyond the confines of Hitsville. Whether rubbing shoulders with royalty or meeting the Queen of England herself, they were to be paragons of charm.
It was only a matter of time before Ross, too, would undergo the transformative power of Powell’s charm education. And when that moment arrived, the world would witness a whole Diane Ross, armed with grace, charisma, and finesse to conquer any stage and captivate any audience.
“It didn’t matter who you became during the course of your career—how many hits you had, how well your name was known around the world,” Smokey Robinson said. “Two days a week when you were back in Detroit you had to go to artist development. It was mandatory. You went there and learned so many things about being in show businesses.”
Powell’s work mainly focused on the girl groups. As a woman herself, she understood that their journey went far beyond the mere quest for a flawless appearance—a perfectly placed wig or lipstick-free teeth. Powell concentrated on the unique challenges that awaited these talented ladies.
She became a savvy hunter, scouring local department stores in search of bargain dresses. Sure, they were a size or two too big, but with a few expert alterations, they would cling to the curves of these aspiring divas like a second skin. Powell knew that a well-fitted dress could work wonders, exuding confidence and elegance on the stage.
It wasn’t just about the dresses. Powell recognized that many of the women at Motown were fresh-faced high school graduates, still learning to navigate the treacherous waters of society and the ever-watchful press. She became their guiding light, helping them through public scrutiny and societal expectations that awaited them as they stepped into the limelight. And there was another crucial aspect that shaped their journey: their Black identity.
As fate would have it, Diane Ross, soon to be known as Diana, believed she possessed an innate readiness for stardom from the very beginning. Convinced of her own allure and determined to showcase her immense value to Motown, Ross poured her heart and soul into each performance. However, her zealous passion led to an unintended quirkiness—the habit of bulging her eyes and contorting her face, as if seeking to emphasize the lyrics with exaggerated expressions. This peculiar display unfolded during a live television appearance, much to the chagrin of Powell.
WATCH DIANE ROSS BULGE HER EYES IN “COME SEE ABOUT ME”
“Most of the artists were rude and crude and speaking the street language when I met them,” Powell remarked years later. “Diana Ross and the Supremes thought they knew what direction they wanted to go in. They said they were sophisticated when they got to Motown, but that was not true; sophistication takes years, and young people are not sophisticated. The Supremes were acting snooty, especially Diana Ross. I taught her [about] being gracious and classy, because classy will turn the heads of kings and queens.”
“The Supremes were acting snooty, especially Diana Ross. I taught her [about] being gracious and classy, because classy will turn the heads of kings and queens.”
- Maxine Powell
Upon the Supremes’ return to Detroit, Powell wasted no time in addressing the matter: stop “making faces” immediately. Ross proved to be a swift and eager learner, harnessing her newfound knowledge and refining her stage presence. The Supremes, with their graceful poise and refined manners, emerged as one of Motown’s most iconic acts, leaving an indelible mark on the label’s legacy.
Ross was not the only one to benefit from stagecraft lessons. Perhaps the most memorable lesson was learned by Martha Reeves of Martha & The Vandellas, who found herself caught in an unexpected predicament during a televised performance when the mic cord tangled in her dress. Such mishaps were transformed into learning opportunities, forging a resilience and adaptability that would serve these artists well on their path to success.
With fond admiration, Rosalind Ashford of Martha & The Vandellas recalls she taught them the intracacies of walking, sitting, and even crossing their legs. It was all about projecting an air of elegance and refinement, from the moment they stepped foot into a space or stage. Powell also taught the proper way to enter an automobile. Ashford said, “She’d always tell us ‘Just don’t reach in there and jump in there. You sit and you slide.’” Powell stressed the need of sitting down first, sliding gracefully into the seat as part of the elegantly executed seating maneuver.
“You never, never, protrude the buttocks because it means an ugly gesture, you see? They learned all of those things.”
- Maxine Powell
Powell was direct with her pupils and wanted them to have the necessary confidence in unfortunate situations. In an interview with NPR’s Rebecca Roberts, Powell said, “Body language. Everybody walks, but I teach how to glide. I teach how if you drop something, how to pick it up. If your slip comes down around your feet, how to stand in the basic standing position and step out of it smiling, with your hip bones pushed forward and the buttocks pushed under. You never, never, protrude the buttocks because it means an ugly gesture, you see? They learned all of those things. I was turned loose to do whatever was necessary to make the artist look first class.”
Ashford continued, “She always got on us for popping our fingers. She said, ‘Don’t ever pop your fingers.’ We’d pop our fingers and she’d catch us.” Following the show where Powell was in attendance, Martha & The Vandellas were promptly summoned to meet with Powell. “We went over and Miss Powell said, ‘You all had a nice show but you do not pop your fingers on the stage.’ To her, that was a no-no.”
For Martha Reeves, Powell was a mentor who gave her confidence as Black young woman in the public eye. “I’ll always admire and love Mrs. Powell for being the first person to ever tell me that I could be beautiful,” recalled Reeves. “And I wondered why would she say that, you know, because America and the world has its own standard of beauty.”
While Powell’s influence on the ladies of Motown is well-known, it’s important to note that she did not overlook the male groups who also commanded the public’s attention. She extended her expertise to artists such as the Temptations, helping them handle perspiration under the spotlight. Additionally, she provided valuable guidance to Marvin Gaye, addressing the matter of keeping his eyes open while singing, as closed eyes could give “the illusion you were singing in your sleep.”
She recognized the importance of posture, even as the artists walked across the stage. With Gaye in particular, she sought to refine his stance and stride. However, Gaye, ever the epitome of cool, believed he had it all under control and brushed off the notion of needing further instruction.
In Powell’s eyes, gender was not the sole determining factor for the standards of conduct and professionalism. She recognized that the public’s perception of Motown hinged not only on the sung word of its artists but of their actions and words. It was a shared responsibility to uphold the reputation and values of the label, regardless of gender.
Motown Founder Berry Gordy held firm in his expectations for his artists to embody the essence of refinement and professionalism. To ensure the label’s image and maximize its potential for crossover success, he imposed additional requirements on artists before they could join the Motown family or step foot on stage. A group that emerged in 1961 under the name “The Elgins” would eventually go on to become one of Motown’s greatest acts. However, Gordy would not hear of them until they changed their name.
Coincidentally, there was a group within Motown that had been performing as the Downbeats. Just a year later, they embraced Gordy’s vision and took the moniker “The Elgins.” This highlights Gordy’s unwavering commitment to cultivating a cohesive and marketable Motown brand and underscores his attention to detail and insistence on crafting an image that resonated with audiences. Each group or artist required a recognizable identity under the Motown umbrella.
Meanwhile, the members of the group who just had their name rejected found themselves immersed in a whirlwind of new name possibilities. Admist their brainstorming session, a name emerged that seemed to capture the very essence of their charisma and allure: “The Temptations.” For Gordy, he also could instantly perceive the captivating allure that the name exuded. Without hesitation, he granted his approval.
The Temptations experienced a period of mediocrity in their early years at Motown, often finding themselves providing backup vocals for other groups and artists. Gordy grew increasingly determined to see them thrive. In a daring move, he decided to rename the group, introducing them as “The Pirates.”
LISTEN TO “MIND OVER MATTER” BY THE PIRATES (TEMPTATIONS)
“We met it with mixed emotions,” recalled Otis Williams, pointing out Gordy wanted them to make it. “But damn, if this record jumps off, that means we have to walk out on stage with pirate outfits.”
Despite the anticipation of their newly reinvented persona, the record they released as “The Pirates” did not go anywhere. Gordy and the Temptations made a collective decision to revert to their original name. The momentary detour as “The Pirates” became a chapter in their story that ultimately revealed the strength and resilience fof their identity as the Temptations.
The Temptations. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys
The Temptations managed to persuade Smokey Robinson, who had originally written the soulful ballad “My Girl” for the Miracles, to allow them to record it with their own lead singer, David Ruffin. With Ruffin’s distinctive blend of rawness and tenderness in his vocals, a captivating transformation took place.
“My Girl” emerged as a song of pure bliss, radiating an infectious energy and warmth that resonated deeply with listeners. It was just not another love song; it served as a heartfelt response to Mary Wells’ chart-topping hit, “My Guy,” creating a beautiful music dialogue.
“I was knocked on my ass,” Williams said when he heard the final version. “The strings, the horns, the dreamlike quality of it. It just had a whole ‘nother daylight to it.” Jack Ashford of the Funk Brothers who provided the musical backing agrees, “The Temptations had a flow the average group didn’t have and they were rhythmic singers. They played off one another and the song flowed. When you had a writer like Smokey, he already knew what he wanted it to sound like anyhow.”
“I was knocked on my ass. The strings, the horns, the dreamlike quality of it. It just had a whole ‘nother daylight to it.”
- Otis Williams on first hearing “My Girl”
“My Girl was unleashed upon the world just days before Christmas, its initial reception on the charts rather modest. However, as the months rolled on, a remarkable ascent awaited this soulful number, catapulting it to the top by March of 1965. It danced across the charts for a remarkable eleven weeks and stayed number one on the R&B charts for six weeks. This meteoric rise coincided with a turbulent period in American history. In the backdrop of “My Girl,” the fight for Black voting rights and voter registration campaigns were intensifying in Selma, Alabama. Eddie Kendricks, Paul Williams, and Melvin Franklin, Alabama natives with family ties still there, were likely monitoring the news from their home state with bated breath while watching their sweet song climb. “My Girl” transported any listener to sunshine and warmth, but served as a comforting reminder of brighter days for Black Alabamans amid the daily violence and struggle to gain access to the ballot. Its journey up the charts intertwined with the struggles and triumphs of an entire community, showcasing the profound impact music can have in providing comfort, unity, and strength during even the darkest of times.
LISTEN TO “MY GIRL” BY THE TEMPTATIONS
The Temptations, with their string of chart-topping hits to follow, contributed in shaping “The Motown Sound.” Their ability to infuse popular styles of the time with their distinctive visual and vocal trademarks solidified their place in music history. With meticulous attention to detail, the group ensured that their dance moves were executed flawlessly, adding another layer of excellence to their performances. “All of us were six-footers and slim,” said Otis Williams, pointing out that their height added to their allure. Their dance routines would show it off. “The next thing you know, you start hearing disc jockeys say, ‘Tall, tan, tempting, all six-footers. The Temptations.’”
While eccentric dance moves had already been introduced by James Brown and Elvis Presley’s memorable gyrations in “Hound Dog” had left a lasting impression, the Temptations brought a fresh perspective to the world of dance. What set them apart was quantity and quality as five handsome men synchronized by their unique sound and style to captivate audiences – Black and white.
Motown realized that standing and singing the song behind a microphone was not advantageous enough. That’s where Cholly Atkins came in, much like Maxine Powell had done to polish the groups. A former vaudeville performer, Atkins helped Motown’s top acts develop their signature routines from the Supremes’ hand stop gesture for “Stop! In the Name of Love” to the train pull in Gladys Knight and the Pips’ “Midnight Train to Georgia,” Atkins’ influence extended well into the 1980s.
For male groups, Atkins drew inspiration from the animated stage presence and dance of gospel quartets, breaking new life into decades-old techniques. His stagecraft lessons were rigorous, with rehearsals held in the basement of the Apollo Theatre. Only routines that passed the test there would be deemed worthy of any stage. Incorporating complex dance moves into a song carried its own risks, as the “visual choreography” had to align perfectly with the band and lyrics, creating a cohesive visual experience. A single misstep or missed cue could spell disaster for the entire performance. Not all artists received formal choreography lessons with many Stax artists relying on spontaneous or impromptu movements as expression.
While the Motown artists benefited from the formal choreography lessons, it is important to note that not all artists across the music industry followed the same approach. In contrast to Motown’s structured routines, many artists at Stax Records embraced a more spontaneous and improvisation style of movement to express themselves on stage and connect with audiences in a raw and authentic manner.
Atkins’ instruction became evident when Motown’s Four Tops took the stage in Britain in 1966. The audience witnessed a seamless blend of captivating dance moves and powerful vocals, solidifying the Four Tops’ reputation as an electrifying live act. “Those who saw them them on their first visit to Britain last year will no doubt remember their somewhat snazzy dance movements, all executed with perfect timing worthy of showgirls at the Londom Palladium!” exclaimed Alan Smith in the New Musical Express. “This interest in stylish presentation stems from the group’s association with a veteran dancer, Charlie Atkins, who spent countless hours of rehearsal until they now look like a quartet of Fred Astaires pacing the floor.”
LISTEN TO “I CAN’T HELP MYSELF (SUGAR PIE HONEY BUNCH)” BY THE FOUR TOPS
The Four Tops had established themselves within Motown long before their breakout success. Initially joining as background singers, they eventually took the spotlight witht their hits like “I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch)” in 1965 and “Reach Out I’ll Be There” in 1966. What set them apart was the distinctive voice of their lead singer, Levi Stubbs. Unlike many other groups of the time that featured tenor leads, Stubbs’ powerful baritone vocals brought a unique and captivating element to their music. This contributed to the Four Tops’ distinctive sound and played a pivotal role in their rise to stardom within Motown.
LISTEN TO “REACH OUT I’LL BE THERE” BY THE FOUR TOPS
“I could never figure out whether Levi was the toughest or the tenderest singer at Motown, so I finally accepted that he was both,” wrote Dave Marsh of Rock and Rap Confidential in 2008, just days after Stubb’s death.
The Four Tops. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys
The rave reviews continued even into 1967 when they performed at London’s Royal Albert Hall. “These incredible Tops swayed and danced and sang their way on to the rostrum with so much happiness and music shining out of them it made you feel good to be alive,” Smith wrote. “Six Negroes in a box behind me were so moved as to leap up and begin a Tamla show all their own, complete with cries of ‘Oh my soul’ and ‘Go kill ‘em, Levi!’ They were hardly half-way through their second number, ‘Baby I Need Your Loving,’ before the thousands of us present were on our feet joining with all the fervour of Saturday night at a Harlem Salvation Army meeting.”
Gordy recognized the importance of cultivating talent and assembled a dedicated staff committed to nurturing artists like the Four Tops. Years later, Gordy remarked, “Life is not nearly as complicated as people make it. See, it’s basic. We got to get back to basic values and basic communication. Two and two is four. And all people want the same things, I constantly say. Each one of us is different though, and I tell artists to bring out your own uniqueness. That’s why you’ll get a Stevie Wonder, a Marvin Gaye, a Smokey Robinson. You’ve got to nurture that. That’s what we try to do. Nurture their difference.”
“If I was a genius of anything, it was bringing out the genius of others, because if they can reach their potential then I had felt that maybe I could reach mine.”
- Berry Gordy
Gordy’s remarkable ability to nurture talent while simultaneously building a prosperous company has rightfully earned him the reputation of a genius.
“If I was a genius of anything, it was bringing out the genius of others, because if they can reach their potential then I had felt that maybe I could reach mine. So in bringing out the genius of others and finding it, sure, it was hard and tough, but your clues will tell you. And then, stopping them from focusing on other things other than what they’re doing.”
Unlike the artists at Motown who benefited from the resources and instruction provided by the label, Ben E. King, the lead singer of the Drifters and known for his solo hits like “Spanish Harlem” and “Stand By Me” in 1961, did not have the same support system. While on tour, King learned firsthand the significance of having confidence as a celebrity.
“I got a chance to go to San Remo to do a festival. I was sitting there waiting to perform when a bunch of kids ran in,” he recalled. “I got up and ran away, looking for a safe place.”
Ben E. King. Illustration by J.D. Humphreys
King needed an intervention. Frankie Laine, an Italian-American singer who had been performing since the 1930s and gained popularity in the 1950s, offered his advice to King. At 51 years old, Laine was a seasoned music veteran who understood the challenges and obstacles that artists faced in the industry. His advice was particularly significant because King’s background growing up in the South had exposed him to the harsh realities of racial discrimination, including being chased by white kids before and after school.
“He [Laine] said, ‘Let me explain something to you if you want to survive in this business,’” King recalled. “Whenever someone approaches you for an autograph, I don’t ever want to see you running away again. Don’t ever run away from someone who appreciates you for being talented.’”
King, a baritone bass singer, found himself thrust into the role of lead singer for the Drifters. The incident occurred when King was teaching the song he had written, “There Goes My Baby,” to fellow Drifter Charlie Thomas. Suddenly, Jerry Wexler, displaying impatience, emerged from the control room and instructed King that if he knew the song, he would have to step up and sing it himself. This led to King’s accidental ascent as the lead vocalist, forever altering the course of his musical career and the Drifters’ sound.
“Being solo was the most frightening experience to go through. Nobody to depend on. All of me, or nothing. I was so nervous. I’d sweat on stage.”
- Ben E. King
“Being solo was the most frightening experience to go through,” he said. “Nobody to depend on. All of me, or nothing. I was so nervous. I’d sweat on stage.” Determined to excel as a solo artist he did as he was instructed by his manager including keeping his eyes opened while on stage. This seemingly simple instruction carried a deeper meaning, urging King to fully engage with the audience and embrace the energy of the moment. “I’d hear the applause and think all is well.” King drew inspiration from his musical idols such as the Flamingoes, Penguins, Spaniels, and Clovers, whom he had admired and emulated as a child. King honed his craft by studying the performances of esteemed artists like Lloyd Price, Sam Cooke, and Brook Benton and “collected bits and pieces from all three of them” to use for himself.
LISTEN TO “STAND BY ME” BY BEN E. KING
Motown’s artists, armed with the confidence and polish gained from charm school and stagecraft lessons, were well-prepared for the opportunities that came their way, including appearances on national television programs. In the racially divided 1960s, image held particular significance for Black artists, as television platforms were predominantly reserved for white performers. Variety and music-performance shows were driven by ratings, advertiser demands, and expanding the demographic, aspects that perpetuated white privilege.
The Ed Sullivan Show, which premiered in 1948 on CBS, gradually started featuring Black artists during the 1950s. Ed Sullivan himself championed showcasing Black talent to help them gain exposure and recognition. Each television appearance became a crucial opportunity for Black performers to reach mainstream America, requiring them to not only possess exceptional talent but also look and act the part. This is where the teachings of Maxine Powell and Cholly Atkins became invaluable for Motown’s artists. They understood the importance of making a lasting impression on the viewers in their living rooms, as they could no longer rely solely on the radio airwaves. With their meticulously crafted image and polished stage presence, they aimed to captivate audiences across racial boundaries, challenging stereotypes and breaking down barriers through their exceptional performances.